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Shelly and James Chapter two I went into the bathroom and took my shower. I was in there for longer than either of them, wanting her to have some time with John alone. I thought that when I came out I would get to see the real passion on her face again. When I got out, they were sitting on the bed dressed. As I got dressed Shelly filled me in on the plan. John and I were talking and he came up with an idea. He wants us to go to this little place he found the other night and dance a bit. He said he wants me to act like a first class slut so he can show me off to a couple of guys he knows. I thought it would be fun. Are you sure Shelly? This could lead to more than you may want to try or could handle. John promised that nobody joins us unless we both agree to it first James. I would like to act the slut part in public again too. Can we go with him? I was torn. This hadnt been my plan at all. There was a chance that Shelly would end up in a gangbang by going to public places and acting like a slut. Or possibly getting gang raped. I still wasnt sure if we could fully trust John either. I finally agreed, but not without some trepidation. My fears were numerous, but mostly about Shellys safety. I knew I wasnt going to lose her now, I just didnt want her to get hurt with our playing around like we were. Shelly had modified her dress straps and they seemed longer now. In front the cut on her dress was almost showing her small tuft of pubic hair on her well trimmed pussy. In the back, well, the top of her ass crack was plainly visible. The top of dress had the thin material of the straps starting just at the top of her nipples too. She was right on the edge of indecent exposure standing in the motel room. We went out front and grabbed a cab. This bar was a bit farther away than I had thought. When we got there I saw that it was in the red-light district. Hookers were on the street corners and there was an adult theater right next to the place John was taking us. We walked into the bar, Shelly on my arm as John led. He went clear to the back of the room and found a nice booth on the back wall. It was a bit off by itself with the exception of one booth on each side of it. There was a couple of people dancing on the small dance floor and about eight men at the bar drinking. They looked like businessmen on travel. Shelly sat next to me and her hand was in my lap. Her fingers were rubbing my cock through my pants as she looked around the place. John had gone to get us some drinks. A few men walked by and gawked at Shelly. I could see that they were wishing they were sitting with her like I was. John came back with our drinks. As he set them down he asked Shelly for a dance. She got up and they headed out on the dance floor. The song was a slow one and as they hugged in close to each other I could see him whispering to her. Pretty soon she stepped back a tiny bit and John spun her around with her back to his front again, just like he had in the other bar. Shelly had her eyes closed as John began to stroke her body with his hands. He fully explored her from top to bottom as they swayed to the music. Shelly did the over the shoulder kiss thing again and this time, as they kissed, John began to pull on her dress, tugging it up her body. Shelly leaned out just a bit, barely keeping contact with his mouth. Her tongue showing once or twice. I thought that John would quit pulling her dress up long before he did. When he stopped my heart was beating very fast. I could see, from where I was sitting, Shellys pussy lips. He had pulled her dress up almost so the bottom hem was on the top of her hips. Shelly turned into his body, facing him and I could see her whole butt. Johns hands were both on her ass cheeks and as I watched, he spread them apart, showing her tight little asshole. I could see that it was open about the size of a half dollar from the earlier action from his cock. John then took her farther out on the dance floor and pretty soon a crowd of men were standing there watching them. I could hear them telling Shelly what they would love to do with her as John held her ass, still spreading her wide open to their view. I had a hard on that wouldnt quit now. This was so hot, so dirty, so nasty. Shelly was tonguing Johns neck and then running it up to lick his lips before plunging into his mouth. She would pull out and start it all over again. John kept working on her, dancing and showing her body. He was talking to her, whispering in her ear as she held onto him. Pretty soon Shelly turned her head to look around the dance floor at the men that were catcalling to her. As I watched, John stepped away from her and holding her dress in each hand, he began to pull it up even higher. Suddenly, Shelly bent at her waist and her dress slipped right off of her. She was naked, on the dance floor with ten men yelling and whistling at her. John tossed her dress in my direction and took Shellys hand. He began to twirl her around and as he did he danced her around the perimeter of the floor. Pretty soon the men standing along the sides could reach out and touch her body as she passed by them. After John had let all the men touch her breasts or ass or even pussy in one case, he danced her back over to me. He handed her off and told me to show him a few moves. To top whatever he had just had her do. I was a bit clumsy at first since I didnt know what to do, but I soon found out that it wasnt me that had to have the moves. Shelly whispered in my ear to guide her over by the men again. I danced her over and as we got close she leaned out away from me and the men were able to feel her up one more time. They were all getting hotter and hotter. I could tell that Shelly had decided to go a lot farther that I had ever dreamed she would and as I held her I realized that I wanted to see her go there too. I had a voodoo like feeling course through my body as I thought of all those men touching her. We danced around the floor and then started to go around again. One man stepped up and asked to cut in. Looking into Shellys eyes I saw that she was willing. I stepped away as a total stranger took my naked wife and began to dance with her. His hands touching and grabbing her all over. After he got around another man took her. They all took turns like that until every man in the room had danced and touched my wife. The last man brought her back to me and I took her hand. John came up and fingering her pussy, he turned to face the other men in the room. Anyone want another type of dance? I think shes ready. A chill hit me as I understood his offer of the different type of dance. He led Shelly over to a strong looking table. As if by magic a foam mattress appeared with a blanket. John laid Shelly back on top of the mattress. He took her legs and moving them around a bit he soon had her spread wide open. Her ass was right on the edge of the table, and her head was just off the other end. Shelly laid her head back and a man stepped in close to her. He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. His hands were tugging on her nipples. Shellys hands were on his crotch and pretty soon his pants were undone. My wife had undone his pants and was slipping his cock out so she could suck him. John was holding her legs apart yet and one man came up to take one leg from him. Pretty soon another man had her other leg. John had his hand on her pussy fingering her. The man at her head had pushed his cock down her throat. Shelly was moaning as this stranger, the second one tonight, fucked her throat like it was her pussy. His cock was long but thin. I would guess that he was ten inches long. Shelly was taking the whole length into her throat and sucking on him hard. I saw her tongue slip out and caress his balls as his cock would hit bottom. Some guy had stepped in between her legs and was pushing his cock into her pussy. As he began to fuck my wife, John came to stand by me. I hope you are all right with this. It was Shellys idea at first. I didnt know if we should do this or not, but she really wanted to try something like this. What do you think? Oh man, this is wild. I cant believe that Shelly, my wife Shelly, is laying there being fucked by one guy and sucking on another. I only wish I had a video camera to tape this. Bartender has one. He is filming from right over there. See? My wife was getting her first gangbang, and it was in a public bar, and to really top it off, she was being filmed as it happened. I talked to the bartender and made him promise to give me the tape when he was done. As rough as some of the men in the bar seemed to be, they were very gentle with Shelly. Of course there were one or two who treated her a bit rougher than I would have. I heard her being called slut and hot whore. It seemed that the more names and derogatory things they called her, the hotter she got. I could hear her begging as one cock would leave her throat to be replaced with another. Her voice was cracking at times, probably from all the cum she was swallowing. I sat at a nearby table and just watched as ten men continually used my wife. She often had cocks in her hands as well as her pussy and mouth. Her chest was heaving at times from the combination of cocks stroking in and out of her. After a while the men either got tired or took a short break. Shelly sat up, cum literally running out of her pussy in a stream. Someone stepped in between her still spread legs and placed a cup under her pussy. Everyone watched as the cup filled up, almost to overflowing. The white cum looking almost like milk. He held the cup up in front of her and offered it for her to drink. Shelly took it from him and with a little nod to all watching, tipped it up, pouring the contents down her throat. I couldnt believe it. My wife, swallowing the cup of cum that had ran out of her pussy after her being fucked by ten different strangers. After she drank the cum, I saw her tongue slip out between her lips and she began to lick the cup clean. The bartender had stepped in close and gotten this nasty act all on film too. I had a raging hardon by this time. John helped her to stand and then we both walked her to the bathroom so she could clean up a bit. She was in there quite a while, and just as I got worried about whether or not she was ok, she came out. Still naked, she sexily walked back to that table, swinging her hips in exaggerated motions. When she got back to the table, she turned slowly around, looking at all the men staring at her. Her smile lit up her face as she jumped up to sit on the make shift bed again. Her hands were on her pussy as she spread her legs wide. Mmmmm . . . anyone up for seconds? I have another hole that could be used too. I would like to try three men at a time. Any takers? Shocked, I sat there realizing that she wasnt through yet. She was wanting three cocks at a time in her body. I couldnt believe that this was the same woman I had married eight years ago. She had surprised me totally this day. Several men lined up. Shelly got one to lay on the table. Once he was comfortable, she crawled up to straddle him. Her hands went around his quite substantial cock and guided him into her pussy. Once she had fully taken all of him, she turned her head to tell another man to climb up and get in her ass. This guy almost jumped up on top of her he was so excited at her offer to him. Man, I have never had a womans asshole. I have always wanted to fuck a chick in the ass and now I not only get too, but the chick is one of the most beautiful babes I have ever seen. I must have died and gone to heaven. He lined up his cock, the head of it right on her tight little bud. She reached back and with one hand on his stomach, she let him press into her. Someone came up with some lube that they had found and the guy rubbed a bunch on his shaft, as he held the head just inside her asshole. The guy underneath her had been stroking his cock in and out of her the whole time this was going on. He was moaning a bit now. Shelly turned to look at him then placed her lips on his. I could see that their tongues were tangled up in each others mouth. Hands appeared on her breasts, rubbing and massaging them. The guy at her ass had just managed to get half of his cock into her tight hot hole now. Shelly reached around him, taking his hips firmly in her hands and jammed him hard into her ass. That motion caused the man in her pussy to lose it and he began to cum hard in her now very much tighter pussy. He rammed inside her hard and held still as his hot cum flooded her pussy. The man in her ass was now stroking in and out of her in long slow strokes. Shelly was moaning and urging them both to fuck her hard. The guy underneath was trapped now as the other man took Shellys ass on a hard ride. John was sitting next to me watching all of this. He looked over at me and smiled. I have never seen a woman as hot as Shelly. You are one lucky son of a bitch to have a wife so sexually free and so beautiful too. I envy you James. I really do. While you were showering tonight we talked, and Shelly told me how much she really loves you. Man, I wish I could find a woman that could love me as much as she loves you and still be the slut that she is. I never knew that she had the capacity to do this inside her John, not one little hint ever showed the whole time I have known her. I am flabbergasted at her sexual appetite tonight. I never in my wildest dreams ever thought that she would want to be in a gangbang, or even fuck another man. Women surprise you once in a while dont they? Hell, people surprise you too. Notice how nice these guys are being to her? Not too rough, not mean. They are loving her slutty attitude as much as we are and dont want to spoil it. Yeah, amazing. Far different that some of the stories I have read about couples that have done this. I hope that tomorrow we are all right with what happens tonight. She is a bit . . . well, drunk. Shes not as drunk as you think James. She even told me so. She wanted you to think that the alcohol had a lot to do with her slutiness tonight so that she had an out in case you had problems with what she did. She was worried that you would not like what she desired deep inside. Our time in the motel room made her realize that she wanted to experience more than she had so far. What do you think now? I think that she is the most beautiful woman I have ever known, inside and out. I love her so much and actually, I am very happy with the outcome of this night. You see, once I fantasized about something like this happening with us. I had given up on us ever doing it though. It seemed like a far fetched, impossible dream. I am so glad that we have walked on this path now. Maybe it wont be the last time for us either. All I know is I dont want to lose her. I really do love her. I dont think you are going to lose her James. Matter of fact, you may have just guaranteed that she loves you more than you ever would have gotten her to love you. She was worried that you were getting a bit afraid of this whole thing, just when she was wanting to press on to bigger and better things. After I took my shower I could see that you two had mended a possible break in the fence before it became a problem. Yeah. I was worried for a bit that I had lost her. I know now that I am the center of her thoughts and love, more than I believed. We got that straightened up and now I can relax and watch her have fun. I have learned so much tonight. I want to thank you too John. You helped to make this possible for both of us. We watched as Shelly took on eight of the ten men in a row. Soon all of the men were just worn out. Shelly laid on her back, cum showing all around her ass and pussy and face. She looked at me and then held her arms up. I got up and went over to her. We were pretty much alone, only John was nearby. She looked deeply into my eyes, searching for something, some sign of what I was feeling. I knelt between her legs, my arms on each side of her, and my lips soon closed over hers. I didnt notice the cum all over her face and on her lips. I didnt mind the of the cum in her mouth either. I was concentrating on my love and my need to connect with her at that moment. Her arms went around my back and hugged me tightly. We kissed for a long time, and then when I pulled away to look at her, I was surprised to see tears running down her cheeks. She was crying. I put my hands up to cup her face and looking into her eyes I asked why. Shelly, why the tears? Why are you crying? Oh, I dont know James. I guess that I am so happy that you are not angry with me and that you still love me even though I have acted like a dirty slut all night. I mean, you didnt expect me to be fucking more than you and John and then I went and fucked a whole gang of men in a public bar. Strangers, that took me right in front of you. I never even asked them to wear condoms or anything. I have been a dirty slut. A whore. Something else too. I . . . I . . . I really loved it. I loved each cock that fucked me. I loved having a cock in each of my holes. I loved looking around to see you watching me, not being mad or angry with me, not being sad, not being hurt. Thank you James. Thank you so much. Oh honey, I do love you. I was amazed at the sexual feast you provided for strange men tonight. The way you ate and drank cum and fucked them was . . . I . . . it . . . wow. That is all I can say I guess, wow. You arent mad are you? You arent going to leave me now? No. I love you. I love the new you most of all. I love the fact that you opened up and found a new sexual level to play on. You arent going to want to dump me for someone else now are you? Someone with a bigger cock or better stamina? No chance of that James. I love you too much to want to ever try to find someone else. You are everything to me. Even after fucking all these different men, I only love you. I only love you James. Then, it appears that my wife, my loving and caring wife, is also my slut. Umm . . Im not meaning that in a bad way, I like the fact that I have a slut wife. Hmmmm . . . Im your slut wife. Slut wife. It does have kind of a ring to it doesnt it? Yes. I would love to be able to call you my slut wife whenever. As long as you dont feel hurt by that name. I always wanted a slut wife though. Well, now you have a slut for a wife. A slut wife I am. Speaking of which. Get those clothes off, I need you. Now. I stood up and began to strip. As I did Shelly beckoned John over. You get undressed too. I want one more double sandwich fuck before quitting for the night. John, I want you to fuck my pussy. So you get naked and lay down here. James, I want you in my asshole. Hurry up. I need it now. John was undressed before I was, even though I had a head start. He laid back on the table and Shelly climbed up over him. She took his large cock and lowered her pussy down around it. She took him in one fast drop. Her breath shot out of her as she bottomed out on his shaft. She began to bounce up and down on his cock as his hands went to her breasts. He grasped them, guiding each nipple in turn to his mouth. As his tongue would caress a nipple, Shelly would moan. He began to suck on her nipples then. Each in turn as before, but the sucking was much harder. Shelly was moaning loudly and then I heard her urging me to hurry up and get my cock in her asshole now. She was begging for me to fuck her ass, and I was so hard hearing her beg me to do her like that, my cock was almost ready to explode. I got up behind them and placed the head of my cock on her brown bud. She relaxed it somehow and I slid right in. Her ass was open to my thrust and she shoved back onto me as I pushed forward. I fell into her asshole and found it to be a bit looser than I had thought it would be, the I remembered that I was not the first to fuck her there tonight. I could feel the slippery cum of other men lubing my shaft as I began to fuck her fast and furiously. We soon got into a rhythm and we had Shelly moaning loud and strong. Looking over her shoulder I could see a light somewhere off to the side. I glanced up and saw the bartender filming us. He caught the whole night, even after everyone had left, too tired to go on. Then he had stayed to get us on film too. Shelly looked over at him and then opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue, licking her lips, she gave him the message that she had one hole available yet. He set the camera on a tripod, aiming it carefully, and then undressed. Shelly took his very large cock into her mouth and soon had him fully buried in her throat. He grabbed her hair and began to literally fuck her mouth hard and fast. I felt Shelly tense up and then begin to orgasm hard. We all started to fuck her faster and harder and as she came, it built and built until she was in never-never land. Her orgasm lasted for quite a while, perhaps a few minutes as our cocks rammed into her various holes at a fast pace. I felt Johns cock sliding along mine as we took opposite strokes. It was a different and very sensual feeling. When Shelly began to cum her pussy and ass tightened up quite a bit and it caused both John and I to begin to approach our orgasms as well. The bartender was still rapidly fucking her mouth and throat. It was something to see her lips tightly around that huge cock as it slid in and out of her, shiny with her spit. I felt Johns cock throbbing and realized that he was cumming. That knowledge with the sight of my wife sucking a huge cock like she was right now, caused me to cum too. I could feel the temperature of her ass going up as my cum flowed into her. John and I finished and then slowly pulled out of her holes. She was still going like crazy on the bartender. John slipped from under her as I stood up. I was in a trance as I watched the bartender fucking her mouth and listening to her moans. I could tell that her moans were causing vibrations on his cock and pretty soon he let loose with a large load of cum. Shelly swallowed and swallowed but was not able to keep it in her mouth. I saw a trickle of cum leaking out of each side of her mouth. A trickle that became a river. Her hands were up around her cheeks, trying to capture all of that which was getting by her lips. John, seeing a that cup she had drank from earlier sitting on the table yet, held it up and managed to catch most of what leaked out. After the bartender was done cumming he slipped his cock out and rubbed it all over her face. Shelly was trying to catch it with her tongue and it looked like she was wanting it back in her mouth. She licked on his cock and after a bit, she managed to get it back down her throat. I could see that he was getting hard again. It grew longer and longer, Shelly still working it over. As soon as he was rock hard again he moved behind her. Taking his cock in his hand he aimed it at her still open ass. Shelly looked over her shoulder and reaching back, spread her ass cheeks wide open. I could see inside of her at that moment a sight that has stuck in my mind ever since. My cum was there, just trickling out of her in a small white stream. The head of his cock covered her hole completely and as he pressed it against her opening, I could see that she was going to be stretched a whole lot more. Shelly held her position as he slowly worked his cock into her ass. When he was about half way inside her he held still, looking at where they were joined. Shelly, still holding her ass cheeks wide as she could moaned and then begged for his cock. Mmmm . . . baby, give me all of it. It feels so good. Youre stretching me wide honey. Come on, fuck me. Fuck my ass hard you bastard. Oh yeah, Im going to fuck your ass hard all right slut. First you have to prove to me you want it though. Shelly looked into his eyes, her need was obvious. She was really wanting his cock to be buried in her and now. I could see that she was trying to find the right words to get him to fuck her hard and fast too. Please. I need your cock. My ass is begging for it. Please, fuck my ass hard. As she said that she was trying to shove her ass back onto his cock. He would just maintain the distance with her body so she couldnt get any more inside her. I could see that Shelly was getting worked up more and more. I was afraid that she was about to promise this man the moon to fuck her ass. She proved my fears right just a second later. Mmmmm . . . Anything. Please fuck my ass now. What was that slut? What did you say? Anything, I ll do anything to have you fuck my asshole hard. Please, Im begging you. I will do anything you want. Anything I want slut? You will do anything I want if I give you this cock? YES! I will do anything you want. You will be my slut for . . . As he began to say this he looked at me, judging how I was going to react and what I would say. I could see he was weighing how far he could push not only her, but me too. You will be my slut for one week. Anything I want you to do, anytime I want you to do it, regardless of the time or place? Shelly balked at this. She looked desperately at me. I saw she was wanting me to smile or give her some kind of idea to let her know I would support her. I thought about it then broke in. Twenty four hours as your slut. How about that? Well, she is your slut so I guess I will have to deal with you instead then huh? I want her for one week. Starting on a Monday and running until the following Monday. One week as my anything goes slut. Twenty-four hours, take it or leave it. Shes begging for my cock right now. How about three days, twenty-four hour ones. That would be seventy-two hours as my slut. Cant do it. Twenty-four or not at all. Man, come on. I wont let her get hurt or anything. Forty-eight hours then? And you can be there the whole time. I looked at Shelly and saw that she was about to cry with her need. She shook her head yes as I mouthed yes or no. Seeing that she was desperate and neither John or I would be able to fill her at the moment, I turned to the bartender and said; Ok. Forty-eight hours, Im present at all times, she doesnt get hurt in any way. Otherwise, she is your slut for that forty-eight hours. With those words he drove his cock fully into Shellys asshole. Her face contorted for an instant with the surprised ramming of her tender bottom, but that left almost before he had plunged all the way inside her. Ok slut, I will have you for forty-eight hours. You will be my slut and do anything I tell you to. That includes fucking any and all people I order you to. Dance how I want you to. Act how I tell you to. You will be a first class, gangbanging A number one slut. MY slut. Forty-eight hours. I want you next Friday night at eight. Right here. Your time will be up at eight Sunday night. You are mine for all of next weekend. Now, cum for me slut. I want to feel your asshole grab my cock and milk out my cum. Then you can clean me up and go home. Get lots of rest too. You will be busy next weekend for sure. Shelly was working her ass back and forth along his monster cock as he spoke to her. On his telling her to cum she began to really shove herself on his shaft. Her mewls and whines coupled with her moaning caused him to start to orgasm. Shelly, seeing that he was cumming, began to shove harder and faster until she too began to cum. Her head came up and back, her long hair covered her face as he began to ram in her. His hands were on her hips and pulling her hard onto his cock as she shook from the beginnings of her cumming. Together they came. Shelly cumming as hard as I had seen her this night. Her nipples were purple and hard, sticking out about an inch now. Her pussy was flowing juices and cum drenching the makeshift mattress. He just kept ramming her ass until he shot off. As he came he held her tight to his body. I could see his balls swell and jerk with each shot of cum he put in my wife. Shelly was shaking her head side to side and back and forth moaning but unable to speak any words. Ohhhh . . .mmmmm . . . .Gaw . . . fu-fu-ohhhhhh . . . mmmmmm . . .yes . . . mmmmmm . . . She collapsed on the table, her face to one side. I thought she had passed out for a second, then I saw her move around. Looking over her shoulder at the bartender she brushed her hair back out of her face. Licking her lips she gave him a look that made me a bit nervous. He leaned down and taking her head in his hands, put his lips on hers. Kissing her hard he held her head still. I could see that his tongue was in her mouth feeling around. Shelly closed her eyes and accepted his kiss. His cock still in her asshole. He broke away, pulling out of her. He got up and walked around to her head, his cock still a bit stiff. Softly holding her head, he placed the head of his cock on her lips. Shelly, after glancing at me for an instant, opened her mouth and swallowed his cock. Fresh from her asshole, covered in cum, she swallowed him. He let her lick, suck and nurse on his cock. She soon had him ready to go one more time. Letting her head lay back so that it was lower than the table, he began to fuck her throat one more time. He rammed in and out, not being too gentle about it. Oh yeah. You are such a good slut. Taking my cock and cleaning it so well. You are such a good slut to open your mouth and take me all the way like you are. Your husband is watching his slut wife get her face fucked and loving it too. Get ready slut. Im going to spray you all over with my white juice. Oh yeah. Mmmmm . . .great slut. My slut next weekend. Here it comes slut. Take it all. With that he pulled out of her throat, and jacking his cock with his own hands he sprayed his cum all over Shellys chest and face. He got her covered heavily then taking his cock he wiped around her face gathering up cum and fed it into her mouth. Shelly, being the dutiful slut she was, licked and sucked him each time he placed it on her lips. After a bit he turned and made sure of the promise of her being his slut the next weekend. Here next Friday at eight right? Yes. I am to be present at all times too. Right. You will enjoy it I am sure. No pain. No rough stuff. Maybe a lot of sex. Maybe lots of people. Maybe some public stuff. No lasting harm though. After all, I may want to have a shot of having her again someday. Remember, no rough stuff or pain. She may be your slut for forty-eight hours, but she is my wife, my slut wife, full time. We left after Shelly rested up a bit. Catching a cab back to the motel room. John came in with us and we all crashed. I woke late in the morning to the sounds of people fucking. Looking over to the other bed I saw that Shelly and John had been up for a bit. John was behind Shelly, fucking her doggie style as she held herself up on all fours. She was meeting each of his thrusts with thrusts of her own. Her breasts were flying all over as they met hip to bottom. John glanced over at me and smiled. I shrugged my shoulder and got up, going to the bathroom I showered, and when I came out, John was dressing. Shelly crawled up to me, still naked, on the floor, on her hands and knees. Ill see you all later. I have some business to attend to today. Can we meet again sometime and play some more? I really enjoyed your beautiful wife and your company last night. You have our number right? Yeah. Ill give you a ring tomorrow, okay? Sure. See you around John. Oh yeah, I really want to thank you for the great time you showed Shelly last night and this morning too. Anytime. Thank you for sharing her with me. I will always remember this as the time I had the most beautiful woman in the world. You have made memories for me that I will always have fun recalling. John left. Shelly had crawled up and taken my cock in her mouth. Sucking me, deep throating me. I had my hands in her hair, letting the feelings of her lips and tongue wash over me. She kept sucking me until I was close to cumming. I pushed her away and taking her hand, pulled her up and into the bed. I laid next to her, wanting to hold her and have a nice gentle fuck. Shelly had other ideas though. She rolled over on top of me and once again began to suck on my cock. Her head moved up and down, faster and faster. Her lips would grind down on the base of my cock as she bottomed out and then she began to moan loudly. I was right, her moans caused a vibration to make my whole cock tingle. She moaned twice and I began to cum. Shelly held her mouth over my cock and took all I had to give her. She never lost a drop either. Afterward, I tried to give her relief, but she stopped me. Today is just for you James. I want to repay you for all the pleasure you gave me last night. For letting me live a dream. For allowing me to be a slut for many men. For letting me be a slut again this coming weekend for a stranger. This whole day is going to be for whatever you want me to do for you. Your wish is my command. I truly and deeply love you James. I am so lucky to have such a loving and giving husband. Last night you made my dreams come true too Shelly. I dont need you to repay anything. I loved watching you have a great time just as much as you had a great time. Please, I want to do for you today at least James. Please, allow me this? Well, ok. I love you too much to argue with you. Im yours for the day. I hope that you are mine for life James. Of course I am your always Shelly. I will always be yours. I love you too much to not want you always. Shelly pushed me back down on the bed, as I had raised up to have the short conversation with her. Her head at my crotch, working me up to full mast again. Once hard, she slipped up over me and taking my cock in her hand and looking me in the eyes, she lowered herself down. I felt my cock entering her, and realized that she was choosing her ass over her pussy for my cock. I laid there as she let my cock invade her ass. I was sure she had to be very tender there, what with all the action she had there last night, but she just kept going. Afterward, and I had cum one time in each of her holes, she laid in my arms. Her head on my chest, her fingers playing with my body as we talked. Have you thought about next weekend and the bartender James? Are you going to be ok with my being his slut for forty-eight hours? Well, Im not real sure that I like it too much, but I promised him and at the time you were about begging me to do whatever so he would fuck you. I just hope that he doesnt push you beyond what you can stand. I am just real concerned for you and your safety Shelly. The whole idea excites yet scares me at the same time. His cock is the largest I have had. I know that he is bigger than John. I dont want to hurt you in anyway though. Perhaps we both need a safe word or something so we can tell if things are getting too far out of hand for the other to take. What do you think? A safe word? Yeah, that is a good idea. That way Ill be able to tell if you really need me to step in and stop things or not. I dont know what that guy will want you to do, he did promise to not let it get too rough or let you get hurt, and that I will be there the whole time. In the future though I would rather we were in control more of any deals like this. Im sorry James. I was just so hot and horny by the time he started then quit. I was desperate. I really needed to get fucked at that moment. I should have never let him maneuver us into promising him anything. It is all my fault. Well, I could have held to the original twenty-four hours or even flat refused his demands all together. I am as much to blame as you. Theres just something about the whole thing that was exciting me, and you too. Perhaps the idea of him making you be his slut and do things that we may not have ever thought of. Yes, I know what you mean. I was thinking of what he may have lined up for me to do. The public stuff, well, youre going to think I am a real slut James, but the public stuff like we did last night, it made me so hot. I felt so nasty yet desired. I cant really explain it other than to say it really, really turned me on to be exposed, fucking in front of strangers, and getting fucked by strangers too. I know. It . . . that is to say . . . well . . . it turned me on a whole lot too. To see you being fucked by guys that we didnt know, the cum everywhere, just the whole trance like thing. God I was turned on last night. I was afraid that you would find me to be sick or twisted at my liking you acting like such a slut. But I was turned on by you acting that way. I had spoken fast for fear that I wouldnt be able to say it slowly. I was a bit wound up inside, partly afraid that Shelly wouldnt like this knowledge of my darkest desires. She looked at me then, looking at her feet she spoke quietly. Well James. You should know that I also had some dark nasty things I wanted to do. Part of them I did last night. I was afraid that you would think I was a very nasty and dirty slut. I was so afraid that I would lose you if you found out what I thought of at times. The sexual things I wanted and in a few cases, still want to try. This last day has been a learning curve for both of us. I am glad that we have tried some of this stuff out and enjoyed it. At the same time I know now that we may never be able to go back to the way things were. Do you think that will cause problems in our marriage now? I hope not Shelly, but one never knows. I just dont want you or even me for a matter of fact, getting so drawn into this that we decide we dont want or need the other. There is a very fine line between pleasure for both of us and pleasure for just the sake of it for oneself. I love you so much. I dont want to lose you to a new lifestyle, whether you or I should decide to go farther than the other would want to go. Thats why we need a safe word. It may or may not work, but at least at the moment of the turn for too far the other will have the knowledge and know that there is a choice to make. A serious choice. We talked some more then got up. Dressing we decided to keep the room another night. Shelly was still sore from all the workout she had last night so we toured around town like tourists. Going into shops that we had never been to.

Surprise Honey Chapter 10 I woke up later that day. It was around three P.M. I got up and brushed my teeth taking that foul taste of morning breath out of my mouth. I splashed some water on my face, checked for anything out of place. This was my morning ritual with the only difference being it was after lunch. This being retired like I was at my age was going to have some problems I could tell. I needed something to occupy my time for at least several hours a day. I went out in the bedroom and got dressed. I decided to wear my Dockers and a polo shirt for a change. I noticed that something was different on board. Finally I realized what it was. The quiet was almost overpowering. I walked around the upper deck and saw nobody. I then went down to the lower cabins. At Julie and Anne's room I hesitated before slightly opening the door. I saw Carl, Anne, Julie and Jan in a pile on the bed. They were fast asleep, naked, and bodies intertwined. I didn't see May anywhere. I headed back upstairs and went to her cabin. I knocked, waiting to see if she was in there. After no answer I once again started to go through the whole boat. I found May in the kitchen, making up a tray of snacks. I stepped in and gave her a hand, wanting to have some time alone with her. She was cheerful and even teased me a bit. "Oh there you are...getting old huh ol' man? Couldn't keep up with us young'uns?" "Hey, you guys wore me out today. I needed to get some rest. I haven't had this much sex ever before. Give me a break May." "You know what they say Bill...no rest for the wicked." "Oh, so now I'm wicked? I can see it now, wicked Bill and his party ship international." "International party ship? Don't you wish. I think you are becoming too used to getting your way. I should lock you in the engine room and put you on bread and water rations." "Bread and water? How about juice and pussy? Man cannot live on bread alone Captain Bly." "Well shiver me timbers matey...you do have an attitude don't you? Well, I know just the thing to take you down a peg or three." May was smiling, as was I. I loved our verbal interplay and her smart aleck like attitude. I found myself comparing her to my late wife and discovered that even though I still loved my late wife, May was a total and new type of love. I finally was able to put my past to rest and see a future that might not be so clouded. May had an inner peace and strong personality that was not unlike my wife had been. She also had that something else, something akin to the prowess of a wild tigress. We delivered the food and drink to the lower cabin then went back to the kitchen to talk and snack privately. Julie and the others were coming around as we left the room Anne smiled at me with tired but sparkly eyes. Julie gave me a little peck on the cheek as I bent over to set the tray down on the table next to where she was. As we walked back to the kitchen, I took May's hand in mine and just held it. She looked at me and then rested her head on my shoulder. I felt young and alive as I took a deep breath of the fresh sea air and looked at the mountains plunging into the ocean right out in front of me. I could see glaciers in the distance, blue white and very cold looking. There were little chunks of ice floating past in the tidal current. Far in the distance I saw a cruise ship sailing off to ports unknown. Entering the kitchen, May stopped me, turning to hug and then kiss. I let her tongue enter my mouth, her arms around my sides, hands rubbing up and down my back. Her lips were crushed against mine so hard it almost hurt. Our tongues tangled and darted around, searching out each other. She broke our kiss. I noticed then that she had tears forming in her eyes. They didn't seem to be hurt tears. More like happy tears. I had to be sure though so I mentioned them to her. "What's wrong May? Why the tears?" "Oh...I'm just being silly. Nothing is wrong. Everything is just...well...I'm just really happy right now Bill. Happier than I have ever been." "Oh. That's a good thing then isn't it?" Laughing she brushed her fingers through my hair, tousling it. "Yes...a very good thing you goof. A very great thing." "Would you like to live here?" "On the boat?" "No...Well unless you thought you would like to. I meant live here in Alaska?" "Hmmm...I think it would be great Bill. I love the scenery and the coolness of the days. I even think the rain would be great too." 'I have been thinking." 'Oh-oh. Now we're in trouble. Thinking huh? What about?" "Us, here, everything. I really want to marry you May. I also want to buy some land up here, close by. I would really love it if you would live with me as my wife and everything." "Oh...Bill...I would love that, but are you sure? We've only known each other for such a short time. I-I may have done some things that you won't like...I..." 'May...anything you may have done in your past is just that. Your past. Don't dwell on that. Live for the future, the future with me. I want you May. I want to marry you and live with you and share my life with you." "Oh, Bill. I don't know what to say. I know that I love you and you love me. I-I just don't know." "May, don't let my wealth or anything else come between us. I love you. I want you. You love me...right?" "YES. Of course I love you. I already told you that the other day." "Then it's settled. Lets find a place up here, maybe remote, and build our lives together." "What about the girls and Carl? What are your feelings about them?" "Well, I love Julie and Anne. Yes, even Jan. Carl is a good friend I think. But it's you I want to marry May." "No, you misunderstood me Bill. What about all the sex and things? I don't want you to give up anything for me." 'I don't understand. What are you saying May?" "I'm saying that I know you have liked have all the sex and stuff with Julie, Anne and Jan. I don't think that you have to give that up necessarily. I wouldn't mind if they stayed with us too." I hadn't thought of this. May wanted us to all stay together. I was a bit surprised. I had figured that we would all go our separate ways, of course with visits like old friends. May had thrown up a possibility that I hadn't thought of. I knew that May had seemed to enjoy being with the other ladies. Her eyes had been so sparkling as they enjoyed each other each time. It had turned me on too to be honest. I didn't want anything to come between us though either. I was a bit unsure of what or how to bring this up with the others. May was looking into my eyes. She saw my hesitation as being a negative. She gave me a bittersweet smile. "Well, I guess they wouldn't have to be with us. I just thought that you had enjoyed it all so much that you wouldn't be able to settle for just lil' ol' me." "No, that's not it. I just don't know how to bring this up with the others. I want you to be happy May, and I know that you sure seemed to enjoy having fun with the girls." "Oh. Well we can just talk to them silly man. Tell them what we are thinking and let them decide what they want to do." May hugged me and was smiling I great big smile. I knew I had just made her very happy. Deep inside I wondered how it would be living with four women so sexually alive as these women were. I could tell I would definitely need to have a stock of vitamins on hand in order to keep up with them. We ate a nice snack and talked quite a while. After cleaning up and a little touchy feely at the sink, we went down to the other room. Everyone there was up and had eaten. They were semi-dressed, talking and laughing together. "Hey where have you two been? We waited for you but you never came back down. We went ahead and ate. Good lunch May. Thank you." Julie had a look to her that told me she figured that May and I had been having a little roll on the side somewhere. If she had only known what we had been talking about she may have had a whole different way of teasing us. "Hey, May and I have been talking. We are thinking of getting married." As that sunk in Anne, Jan and Julie squealed and jumped up surrounding May. They were hugging and kissing her. May was overwhelmed as each girl congratulated her. Carl looked at me and smiled. He stuck his hand out and I took it in mine. "Congratulations Bill. I hope you and May are very happy and have a long and prosperous marriage." I thought I detected something akin to loss in his voice. I was not sure, and I really didn't know what he was thinking about behind those words. He did seem genuinely happy for us though. After everyone settled down we sat on the bed. May began to tell them what we had been talking about. Her news was taken with a quiet group stare. Then Anne started the questions. "You mean you guys want to buy or build a place up here and live? You want us to stay with you?" "Yes." May was smiling and her answers were short and to the point. I could see Anne and Jan exchange glances. Julie had slipped in next to me and she took my hand in hers. "Dad, what about school?" "Well, we both think you and Anne should go. As you know I will pay for you both to go and when you have breaks you can come up here and stay if you want." "May, how do you feel about this? You know that we would probably end up having sex quite often if we were here. Would you be ok with that?" "Julie, Bill and I talked about it and I talked him into it. I want you to all stay here with us." Looking down and blushing a little bit May continued. "I have found out that...well...I like making...ummm...making love to you Julie. You and Anne and Jan. It has been one of the best sexual things I have ever done. I really enjoyed loving you guys." Jan was looking at me and started to say something. Then she stood up. Her hands were busy with a napkin that had been lying on the corner of the bed yet. "I don't know. I mean I am just a cook. I never thought that we would...that I would be...why would you want..." May took Jan's hands in hers and began to lightly massage them. She looked into Jan's eyes and then put a hand up to her hair. Running her hand through Jan's hair she began to speak quietly and soothingly. "Jan, Bill and I would really love for you to stay with us. We both want all of you to stay with us. We could live together as one big happy family." "Oh May, I think that would be wonderful. Bill, are you sure you would be ok with that. I mean, you hired me to cook I can still do that. You don't owe me anything more than that. This whole trip has been so wonderful and fun for me. That in itself is more than I wanted to begin with." I could see that Jan wanted to stay but felt like she wasn't really part of us. I knew what to say at that point. I had decided that we all needed to stay together, at least for the foreseeable future. We all gelled well and I think we all loved each other quite a bit more than most people would. "Jan, I think that if I can find some land, we can have a real nice home built. I think that we should also have a cook, a maid, and perhaps a handy man to keep things fixed up. Then we can all enjoy ourselves how ever we want." May looked at me as I spoke, her eyes conveying her approval of my idea. I had the money after all, why not provide for my new family. We had shared with each other some of the most intimate and private things people can share. Jan had a tear falling down her cheek. She noticed it as it fell from her chin. She quickly dabbed her eyes with that napkin. May moved in close to her and put her arms around her. Carl was looking at me with a questioning look in his eyes now too. I had figured that he should stay with us too. Not for me as much as for the girls. After all, I wouldn't be able to keep up with them sexually all the time. "Carl, we would like you to stay with us too. I am going to need some help around here. Besides, I can't be the only man with all these women around. They would put me in an early grave. Wear me out completely. I truly hope you will stay with us." "That would be great Bill, but we will have to have something to do. We couldn't just hang around all the time just eating and having sex. I mean we have to be constructive, do something with some of our time." "Yeah, I figured that. I was thinking that we should have a gym for sure. Maybe a workshop just for you and I to do things in. Never know we could invent something pretty cool. What else should we look at doing?" After this everyone loosened up and talked. We talked for a couple of hours, well up until five-thirty. That is when someone mentioned that it was about time to go get Sandra. We broke up, Anne, Julie, Jan, and Carl going to shower up. May went up to get dinner started so that Jan wouldn't have to rush around by herself. I went out and put the Zodiac in the water. As I headed into the dock to get Sandra a light misty rain began to fall. The mountains were hidden behind it, causing the area to look like it was some mystical spot in a lost world. A small dolphin swam alongside the boat as I tooled along. It was racing me, or maybe just trying to figure out what I was. I watched it closely, in case I had to kill the motor quickly. I didn't want to hurt a creature here. Sandra walked out onto the dock. Her raincoat covered her totally. It looked like an old west duster at first, until I saw the shining reflection of wet vinyl. She got onboard even before I could stand to tie off to the dock. She looked a bit nervous but smiled at me. Sitting down she faced me directly. Her hands on her lap, holding the coat closed over her body. "Hey, how are you today Sandra?" "Fine, Master." "You don't have to call me..." "No, I want to call you Master, Sir. Please, it is something I have wanted to do." "Oh. So, are you my submissive little slave?" "Yes, Master." "You will follow my every command?" "Yes Master." "No hesitations, no questions?" "No Master, no hesitations, no questions." "Then, open your coat wide open. I want to see what you are wearing." "Yes Master." Saying it as she did it, my new 'slave' displayed herself in front of me as we ran out towards the yacht. She had taken a silky nightgown and evidently cut it here and there making up a very sexually pleasing revealing nighty. I could see she had sewn it here and there too. What I saw gave me an instant erection. On her throat she had a small band of lacy material making a choker. The red color of it made her hair, face, and neck stand out like the sun breaking through shadows. Just below these two very thin straps had to work hard to keep the top part of her covered. Her breasts were almost all exposed on top and around on the sides. All that was really covering her was two wide lacy strips of material, lace edging the sides. Her nipples threatened to show on each side. The cut in the front flowed down almost to her crotch. I could clearly see her belly button and just the top of her carefully trimmed mound. The legs had been cut way high on each side giving the bottom a thong effect. I could see the tops of her hips, as she sat, nothing but skin showing. Her legs were encased in thigh-high red stockings, a garter belt holding them up. Her feet were in some very high open toe spike heels made out of red patent leather looking material. Her whole outfit screamed fuck me. I could see her nipples standing out through the material. She had a blush covering part of her skin exposed to my view. I think it was a sexual blush rather than an embarrassed one. She looked into my eyes. I could see she wanted to know what I thought of her outfit. Never having been a 'Master' before I tried to think what a master would say to her. "Sandra, you have done well." "Oh, thank you Master. I am glad you approve." She started to cover herself back up. I stopped her. "Wait. I didn't tell you to cover yourself back up. Matter of fact, just keep your arms spread wide open so that I may enjoy the view my little slave offers me." She quickly put her arms back out. Her coat fully open, her breasts heaving as she did. I could see moisture seeping out of the crotch of her nighty. Her wet spot showing that she was very turned on. We were close to the yacht so she didn't have to hold out her arms so long that they hurt. I could see that by the time we pulled up to tie off, her arms were shaking a little bit. "You may cover yourself now." "Thank you Master. Master, may I service you now?" "Service me? Oh, not right now. I want to be fresh and ready to use you in a few minutes. Just wait until I tell you I am ready." "Yes Master. I will wait until you tell me to service you." I was beginning to really get into this Master/slave thing. I had never felt something like this would be fun, but I saw that I had missed out on something for a long time. Still I knew that I didn't know a lot about being a Master. I had a lot to learn. As we stepped onto the yacht I tied off the Zodiac. I turned to Sandra, my slave and gave her a short command. "Take off the raincoat slave." "Yes Master." Her hands pulled at the coat and it fell from her shoulders. I took it in my hand, by the collar. She stepped out from it, her arms sliding through the sleeves smoothly, revealing her back to me for the first time. I could see her whole back. The nighty had been cut so that it had a very deep V in the rear too. Looking down at her butt I could see the swell of both cheeks just beginning to show. The sides around her legs were cut high as I imagined too. From the rear I could see the sides of her breasts, the nipples just out of sight by a tiny little bit. The lower portion showing as if she were naked. "Put you arms over your head." Dutifully she complied with my command. With her arms over her head her breasts threatened to push out of the material barely containing them. I reached out on each side of her and ran my hands alongside her breasts. My touch brought a shiver to her body. A shiver and a moan. "You have done very well slave." "Thank you Master." My hands continued to lightly massage her breasts from the sides. I then took one hand and ran it down her side stopping only where the material started just above her hip. I then let a finger trace down around to her front. When I reached the deep V in front, my finger was rubbing her pubic hair where it started. Since she had shaved herself there, it wasn't very far from where her clit. She had put her hands on her head, gathering her hair up. Her moan told me that she was extremely turned on by her dress and my actions. "Lets go down and find the others. I think that they will want to see my devoted little slave." I stepped around her and started walking away. She followed me quietly her hands still up in her hair. "You may drop you hands now." "Yes Master." Sandra was being more the slave than I was the master. I could see that there was quite a bit I needed to learn to be a good master. Not ever having been in this type of situation before I wasn't sure. We walked into the lower deck and went to Julie and Anne's room. Everyone was there waiting. I heard several low moans as we entered, Carl's among them. Sandra had come in and taken them all by surprise. She looked so sexy and vulnerable standing there in her skimpy outfit while the rest of the people in the room being fully dressed. "Raise your arms, like before and turn around. Let everyone see you slave." Obediently Sandra complied with my wishes. At my calling her slave Julie and Anne looked hard at me. I smiled and nodded towards Sandra. With her standing there almost naked, arms spread wide; she was showing her subservience to me. "Come here slave. I want you to kiss me." "Yes Master." Sandra stepped in close to me and turning her head upwards slightly, opened her mouth and waited. I bent down and licked her lips in one long slow lick. Then I inserted my tongue deeply into her mouth. She had kept her hands up and out like I had ordered. I put hands on her shoulders and pressed her arms down. As I did, she began to lower herself to her knees. I broke our kiss and watched as she went fully onto her knees in front of me. Her hands were at her sides her face turned up to look into mine. I put a hand on her head and ran my fingers through her hair. She licked her lips and glanced at the bulge in my pants. I could see that she wanted to unzip me and reach in and touch my cock. I didn't say anything though; I just waited, looking at her. The others were watching silently as Sandra obeyed my commands. I could see that Julie was a little bit uncomfortable with this. Why I was not sure. Sandra was beginning to get worked up as she knelt in front of me. I slowly unzipped my pants. Letting them drop to the floor around my ankles, I kicked them off. My underwear was the only thing separating my cock from her lips. Sandra moaned quietly but in the room as still as it was, it sounded loud. I saw a blush shoot across her face as she realized that she had sounded so loud in the quiet of the room. I lowered my underwear, exposing my raging hardness. Sandra moved to reach up for it. "Hands to your sides slave." Looking up at me a bit fearfully, she complied with my command. I could see that she really wanted to touch me. I felt that I had to control this aspect at the moment. May was looking at me with undisguised longing and lust. I think that Anne and Jan were just involved in watching, not believing that Sandra would be so subservient to my wishes. Julie had a look in her eyes. I couldn't tell if it was one of wanting to be in Sandra's place or disgust of the whole thing. Carl had an erection and was rubbing it through his pants. I could see that my slave had worked him up quite a bit. I pulled my underwear down and stepped out of them. With my cock in hand I began to rub it over my slave's face. Around and around it went. She tried to stick out her tongue to lick it until I ordered her to be still. "Slave, I want you to just stay still and accept your masters cock wherever he wants to place it." Looking into my eyes with a begging and wanton look she complied, although I could clearly tell she really wanted to lick and suck me. I continued to rub my cock around her face. I saw her crotch turning darker with moisture from her pussy flooding it. Looking over at Julie, I saw her licking her lips subconsciously. Suddenly I knew that she wanted to be treated as a slave also. May was rubbing her nipples through her blouse as she took in the sight before her. I turned away from Sandra who moaned in frustration. I looked into Julie's eyes. Our eye contact caused her to shudder a bit as she realized that I was going to include her in this game now too. "Julie, come over her. Stand by my slave." Silently she stood, walking over to stand by Sandra. I was glad that I hadn't been wrong about her intent. To be honest I wasn't real sure until that exact moment that Julie wanted to be treated as a slave also. "Take off your clothes, slave." "Yes da...I mean, yes Master." A thrill ran through my body as I realized she was going to do it. She was going to be my slave. May was moaning and now rubbing her crotch as well as her nipples. Carl had sat next to Jan and Anne his hands on his crotch. Jan was licking her lips as Julie stripped. When Julie was done stripping off her clothes I looked at her for a bit. It made her squirm for some reason. Perhaps because of the Master/slave thing I wasn't sure at this point. All I knew was that it caused my cock to throb. I took off my shirt and naked I stood before my slaves. Julie was licking her lips as my cock bobbed in front of her just inches away. Sandra was moaning quietly. Her look had become more desperate when Julie had knelt beside her. "Sandra, you may touch my cock now. With your tongue only." "Yesssss Master." She leaned forward so quickly I almost drew away in fear that she was going to head butt me in the crotch out of passion to taste me. I was just able to hold still. She stuck her tongue out and began to lick me from base to tip. Julie started to lean in to help. "Julie, I didn't tell you to help Sandra. Sit up straight." With a soft groan, Julie sat up straight again. "Yes Master." "That's better. Now, Julie, I want you to finger your pussy." She looked at me, blushed a bit, then her hand moved to her pussy. I watched as her fingers slid up and down those precious lips, the moisture making them shine. Her hips rocked slightly as she started to get into it. Sandra was licking my balls at that moment. I got an idea in my head. "Sandra, sit up straight again." "Yes Master." I could tell she didn't want to. She wanted to take my cock into her mouth and suck on me. I had come up with a different plan for the moment though. "Julie, take your hand and let Sandra lick those fingers clean." Julie looked at Sandra then up at me. Her fingers were still working around her pussy. I could see her hesitation. She was getting so into the moment she didn't want to quit. "JULIE, do it now." "Yes Master." Her soft response let me know that she was complying but not wanting to. Her hand went to Sandra's mouth. Sandra began to lick the proffered fingers. Pretty soon she took one finger at a time and began to suck on them. Julie was moaning as Sandra did her job. I stepped in closer to Julie. I took my cock and began to rub it all around her face just like I had done to Sandra earlier. She stuck out her tongue and began to try to lick me. "Julie, put your tongue back in your mouth. I did not give you permission to lick me." Her look was one of pleasure denied. I could see a flash of argument cross her eyes. Then, it went away. Her submission was complete. Her tongue went back into her mouth as I continued to rub my cock over her lips and around her face. "Sandra, you may lick my cock, Julie, you may lick my balls." They both moved fast to comply with my demands. With two tongues working me over I had to concentrate in order to not cum. I reached down and took a breast in each hand, one of Julie's and one of Sandra's. I rolled their nipples and pinched them firmly between my fingers. With one tongue licking the head of my cock and one on my balls, I was having one hell of a time not cumming. I noticed that Julie had let the hand that Sandra had been licking and sucking on drop to Sandra's pussy. She was fingering it just as she had been doing hers. "Julie, I didn't give you permission to finger Sandra. Stop that right now." She jumped and then quickly moved her hand away from Sandra's pussy. Sandra moaned softly as she did. Their tongues never left their duty on my cock and balls either. "Sandra, you may suck my cock now." Julie looked pained as I told Sandra she could have my shaft in her mouth. I felt it only right since Sandra had been my slave first. I thought for a bit then a wicked idea crossed my mind. "Julie, I want you to kneel behind me now." "Yes Master." She looked up at me with a bit of confusion in her eyes. What could she possibly do behind me? After she got behind me, I gave her the order I had dreamed up just moments before. I could feel the anticipation of everyone in the room at my command. "Julie, you may lick me." "Lick you? Where?" "What did you say slave?" "I-I-mean...Master. Where should I lick you Master?" "Put your hands on my cheeks and spread them. You will see where once my ass cheeks are spread. I want you to tongue it very well too." I heard Jan gasp softly at my words. Julie hesitated only a second then I felt her hands on my asscheeks. Spreading them as far apart as she could, I next felt her hot breath on my tight hole. Then, ever so softly, I felt her first probing lick across it. I almost moaned out loud as she began to lick me back there. Sandra was now taking my cock fully into her mouth and down her throat. I could see her working hard to control her gag reflex. Julie's tongue worked into my asshole, as she got braver and braver with her job. Sandra had redoubled her work on my cock as if to show me that she were the better slave. I was hard put to not cum down her throat as Julie buried her tongue in me. May was stripping off her clothes as she franticly rubbed herself. Carl was looking from me and the slaves over to May then back again. His erection was cramped in his pants and soon he too began to undo clothes. Looking over at Jan, I saw her hand in her crotch and her tongue licking her lips. Before I came I stopped both of my slaves. They moaned and were very reluctant to stop what they were doing. My forcefulness of command caused them to quit right away though. "Sandra, stand up and prepare for my next command." "Yes Master." "Julie, come around in front of me now." "Yes Sir." Sandra had stood up and was waiting expectantly for my next order. Julie came around and stood next to Sandra. Her look was one of total submission to her Master. I looked them over slowly and quietly. Sandra squirmed a bit waiting for my next order. I could see her wanting to have me get on with it. I decided to make her wait some more. "Julie, turn around and bend over at the waist. Now, spread your legs. Good. Now, take your hands and spread your asscheeks." I could see Sandra really trying hard to be quiet and obey me. Her struggle was getting harder since I had ignored her for the moment and was now concentrating on Julie. Julie had complied with my orders very well. Her little brown bud was right there exposed for me to use however I wished. I reached out and ran my finger through Julie's exposed cleft. As the tip of my finger swept across her bud she shuddered with anticipation. Sandra moaned her need as I began to feel Julie right in front of her. I felt a little electrical spike course through my body as I realized that I had two women in my power at the moment, and two wanting to be under my power. Jan had stripped off her pants and was openly fingering herself now. May looked up at me and I nodded over towards Carl. She understood my silent command. She got up and moved over to where Carl sat. Soon she was sucking on his hard cock as he fondled her breasts. Jan looked up at me with undisguised lust. Her tongue was out and going in circles around her lips as she feverishly rubbed herself. I pointed out May's inviting rear end and gave a long slow upward lick with my tongue. Jan picked up on that order and quickly moved to comply. May moaned loudly as Jan's tongue did what I had just shown her to do. Her lick started just between May's legs and ran upwards through that cleft the separated left cheek from right. I saw May settle her bottom back into Jan's invading tongue. Her hips rocked side to side as Jan began to spread those soft yet firm cheeks apart. I returned my attentions to Julie. Her hips were rocking and her body moving, to keep my finger on her little bud. Sandra was almost crying with need now. I could see that she understood that I was teasing her and it was driving her crazy. I watched as she restrained herself from touching herself or diving into one of the people so close by enjoying themselves. "Sandra, come over here." 'Yessss Master." She nearly stumbled in her haste to get next to me. My next command was not expected though. I reveled in her look of shock and then submission. I think I was beginning to get the hang of this Master/slave stuff now. "Sandra, you may lick Julie right here for the moment." I had my finger on Julie's asshole and here shudders at my command almost caused it to penetrate her. Sandra looked at me and then at Julie's bottom. Her tongue shot out as she licked her lips sub-consciously. "Now Sandra, lick her now. Slowly so she does not cum right away." "Yes Master. Slowly as I can. Don't let her cum." Sandra crawled up behind Julie and began to lick her bottom. Her tongue drove into Julie's asshole and she was fucking it as best she could. Julie was moaning loudly as Sandra worked at pleasing me. I moved up behind Sandra as she knelt to lick Julie's ass and taking my cock in hand I began to run it up and down the crack of Sandra's ass. Sandra shivered and then pushed back at me, trying to capture my cock between her cheeks. With Julie's ass cheeks spread by Sandra's hands I could see Sandra's tongue entering Julie's ass clearly. It was the sexiest sight I had ever witnessed up close. I leaned over Sandra to get a closer look and my cock rubbed hard between Sandra's ass cheeks. Sandra moaned loudly and put one hand back there to try to guide my cock into her. I grabbed her hand and moved it back up to Julie's asscheeks. "Keep your hands there slave. My cock is not for you to touch yet." "mmymth Mmthr" Sandra's tongue caused her response to be muffled badly due to her tongue being buried in Julie's ass. I felt a bit of a rush seeing and knowing why all this was happening now. I was the Master. I slipped my hand down and taking my cock in it I positioned the head right at Sandra's asshole. Pushing slightly so she would know what was about to happen and be able to brace herself I hesitated. Before I could push again, Sandra pushed herself back onto my cock, taking me fully inside her tight hot asshole. I was going to reprimand her but I got lost in the feelings of warmth and my needs. I felt my balls brush her pussy as I bottomed out in her ass. My push forward at that moment caused her to bury her face in Julie's ass. Julie pushed back and began to twist her bottom around and up and down. I could see that she was cumming very hard with Sandra's tongue in her ass and hands on her asscheeks. I then saw Julie's hand on her pussy, rubbing herself hard. Sandra was shuddering as I began to ram her ass fast and hard. I could feel my balls rubbing against her pussy on each down stroke and grabbing her hips I really began to pound her ass. I had forgotten about Carl, Jan, and May now. I was concentrating on Sandra and her ass. Hands on her hips driving myself up into orgasm as her tongue continued to fuck Julie's asshole. I reached down and took Sandra's breasts in my hands and using them as handle's I literally fucked her as fast as I could. When I began to feel my cum boiling up from my balls I pulled out. Taking Julie by the arm I pulled her around and put my cock in her face. Without a bit of hesitation, Julie opened her mouth and swallowed my cock all the way. Now my balls were bouncing off of Julie's chin as I fucked her throat. Her lips were wrapped tightly around my cock and felt wonderful. Sandra was still trying to lick and suck Julie's asshole as I put my fingers into Sandra's pussy. With four fingers in her pussy, Sandra started to cum hard. Julie was cumming and my cock buried in her throat started to shoot off. I was worried for a moment that Julie may choke, so I pulled back a bit in order to give her room to breathe. Julie instead followed my cock and kept it buried in her throat. My cum shot out and I felt Julie swallowing as I filled her mouth and throat with my cream. Sandra was cumming still as I fingered her pussy. I took my other hand and placed it on her ass and pushing in two fingers I began to finger her ass. My fingering on both of her holes had now caused Sandra to cum even harder than she had been. I could feel her pussy muscles gripping my fingers and her ass muscles doing the same thing there. Julie was licking and cleaning my cock now, her tongue softly caressing me. Her orgasm finished she was dutifully making sure her Master was satisfied. He was. Very satisfied indeed.

Fishing Days Having been married for over ten years, our sex life had gotten a bit boring. My wife liked sex, but didn't always feel like having sex. I guess that she had to think about it for a bit to get warmed up, and life being what it is, she just didn't think about it too often. I, on the other hand, always wanted sex. Some of our biggest fights had been over sex and her not being available or wanting it more often than she did. My frustration had been growing for the last two years. It seemed that the more frustrated I got, the less she wanted it. Finally, I began to go out on weekends with my buddies, fishing or hunting. Pretty much every weekend I would be out of the house doing something with friends. Cheryl, my wife, didn't care, matter of fact she welcomed my being gone since I wouldn't be pestering her for sex. One weekend I went out to the cabin on the lake to do some fishing. My buddies who were supposed to come out with me didn't make it. I got a call at the cabin about two hours after I got there that Friday night and both of them bowed out. Since I was there, I decided to go ahead and stay and fish anyway. I spent that night getting the boat ready to go out on the lake, and then went into the small town that was nearby to get some food for the weekend. As I pulled up, three ladies came out in a small huddle, laughing and carrying on. They appeared to be around my age and I overheard them talking about the cabin they had rented for the weekend. I stood by as they walked past me and I caught one of them giving me the once over. It was a long and slow bottom to top and back down look. She didn't miss much of my body at all either since I was wearing cut-offs and a T-shirt. They smiled and said hi as they moved past and I just nodded to them. I went in to find the guy behind the counter still blushing from their commentary. I hadn't heard them, but as I paid for the stuff I got he mentioned that those women had embarrassed him quite a bit. Evidently they had been making comments about taking advantage of him in the back of the store, one at a time. He had gotten a bit nervous since they seemed serious, and he wasn't sure how much of what they said was joking. I had arrived at just the right time to cause them to take off instead. I joked with him about the ladies, and then left to go back to the cabin. I put my food away and then made a small supper. I called Cheryl and let her know that I was by myself, and tried to talk her into coming up to spend the weekend with me. As I expected, she begged off saying she had lots of house work to do. "Sam, you know I don't like that place. It's too rustic, too isolated." "Come-on Cheryl, it has plumbed water and inside bathrooms and is even a bit nicer than our home. What is so bad about this place?" "If I come out there you won't leave me alone. You'll pester me for sex constantly. You know I don't like it when you do that." I saw another fight cropping up, so I just dropped it and finished our conversation without trying to get her to come out. I was disappointed, but not surprised. Usual stuff for me by now. I settled in and ate my dinner by the fireplace as it was a cool night, and then went to bed. In the morning, I got up early and went out on the boat for a few hours fishing. I caught some nice trout and took them back into the cabin, cleaned them and tossed them in the freezer. It had gotten pretty warm, so I stripped down to T-shirt and cut-offs again, and then took a walk on the beach. Our cabin is pretty far out and away from all the other lakeside cabins. My grandfather had bought quite a bit of land years ago, and it kept our part of the lake quite isolated. I walked from one side of the property to the other, about two miles in length. It helped to clear my head of the stress that built up over time from the last time I had been out. I saw a boat out in the lake and once in a while I could hear laughter carry out over the water to where I was standing. As I got back to the boat dock, I heard some shouting and looking out I saw that whoever was in that boat, was having serious trouble. It appeared that it was getting low in the water, as in sinking. My boat being right there and ready to go, I jumped in and without another thought ran out to where they were. It was those three ladies and their boat was sinking. Somehow they had managed to hit a rock somewhere and it had torn a long gash in the stern. "Oh, our hero is here to save us. Thank God you came along when you did, or we would have had to swim. I'm not a good swimmer either." "My cabin is right over there, I saw you were having some trouble, so I came right out. I'll hook on to your boat and tow it into my dock. We can haul it there and inspect the damage." "Thank you. I don't know how we hit that rock. We were going along and suddenly POW, knocked us flat on our backs too. I think it may have damaged the motor as well, it stalled right after that and we haven't been able to get it started since." "Hop in my boat, just in case, and I'll tie your boat off to mine. We'll have to hurry, you're sinking pretty fast now." Their boat was getting low in the water and I was worried about making that run to the dock. I took out my knife and had it ready to cut the line should their boat sink too far. I didn't want my boat following theirs under. I made the run in pretty fast considering that their boat was a solid drag on mine, and I put it right on the ramp. One of them had their bilge pump on and as they held the boat in close to the dock, I ran my trailer down and we pulled their craft out. "Your outdrive is gone." "Yeah, I figured that we had damaged it. Can it be fixed?" "I don't think you understand...your outdrive is flat gone. It broke off the motor and is on the bottom of the lake I guess. It isn't there anymore." "Oh no. Is that real expensive?" "Next to the motor, the most expensive thing on a boat like yours is the outdrive. Your looking at several thousand dollars at least. Actually, you may be better off junking this one and getting a new one. The hull is pretty torn up too. From what I can see just like this, your whole stern, outdrive, and motor will need to be replaced. A new boat would probably be cheaper." "Damn. That bad huh? My dad is not going to be happy with me. He expects me to take care of his baby and I just killed it. How much is a 26 footer like this anyway?" "Well, this model is worth around...I'd guess...$40,000.00 or so. Pretty nice outfit for the lake." "Oh shit. Dad is going to kill me. Right after he disowns me." "He may have insurance that could cover it...check and find out. You can keep your boat here at my cabin, I have lots of room. I'm planning on leaving my boat in the water for the summer anyway." "This is your cabin?" "Yeah, my home away from home. I spend quite a bit of time here. Wife doesn't care for it, but it is all mine, inherited. My grandfather built it years ago. Um...you need to make a phone call to your dad? I have a phone right inside there." "Oh that would be great." "You all can come in. I have some beer and soda pop if anyone is thirsty. I need to clean up a bit before I take you girls to wherever you're staying." I had just now noticed that they were all wearing bikini's and they filled them nicely too. My thoughts were on their predicament so I was trying to be helpful. I led the way inside, and pointed out the phone and bathroom to them. I went on into the kitchen and got some pop for all of us and set them down on the coffee table. Cleaning up in the master bath, I heard them giggling and laughing. For having had such a lousy day, sinking their boat and all, I was surprised that they would be so jovial yet. I had lathered up my face with soap, so my eyes were closed, when I felt the cool air of an opened door. Hands began to caress my body as I struggled to rinse my face off. I was in a panic by the time I could open my eyes. Looking around I saw all three of them reaching out to touch me here and there. "Hey, what the hell are you doing?" "What does it look like we are doing? Checking you out. You have a nice...body you know." The way she said that, with that hesitation and all, let me know that it wasn't just my body they were interested in. I could see that I was in trouble here and tried to change the subject. "So, were you able to get a hold of your dad?" As I said that one of them grabbed my cock through my cut-offs and was holding it tight. "She didn't get a hold of her dad, but I got a nice hold on you. You're packing quite a weapon there stud." I pulled away from them all, and then pushed past and out into the bedroom. I knew that I had to get out and away from them as soon as I could. They were the most aggressive women I had ever seen. "I'm married." "Yeah? So?" "Well, you shouldn't be touching me like you are. You're three grown women, you know better." I was backing away from them, trying to get around them without seeming to panic. "We know that we like what we have here. You're a man, with all the right...tools to satisfy us. A girl needs satisfaction you know. I'll bet you know how to do that just right too. Married men are always the best when it comes to sex and stuff." The quiet one began to talk now. Her tone was friendly, but at the same time, edgy. "Yeah, you are quite handsome, and your cock is nice. We've been checking you out. Wanna play?" "Look, you are all quite good-looking and everything, but I have never cheated on my wife in over tens years, I'm not about to start now." "Who said anything about cheating? We don't want to cheat, we want to fuck." "Yeah, we just want to play, and besides we owe you for the tow and rescuing us and all too." The third one chimed in now, having been moving around to block my escape. "Hey you guys, lets get his clothes off and show him how thankful we really are." "Good idea Mandy. Carol, grab his arm. Mandy, take his other one. I'll get his clothes off." I jumped away and ran out of the bedroom with them in hot pursuit. I made it to the living room and one of them tackled me. As I fell I ended up half on and half off the couch. Immediately the other two had my arms held back. I struggled to get loose, but they were able to hold me. As I began to argue with them about this incredible scene Sue, the one whose dad owned the boat, began to undo my clothes and take them off. I struggled a bit here and there, beginning to get worried about this whole thing. How would I ever explain this to my wife? Sue ran off and soon came back with some rope that had been in their boat. After struggling with me, they managed to get my legs, then my arms tied up pretty well. I was spread eagled, and naked in my living room. Three strangers, women, having overpowered me rather smoothly. As I laid there they stood around and talked about my body and what they planned on doing to...well, with me. "Wow, he has a nice cock. Circumcised and everything. Kinda soft, but I'll bet we can change that with some...work. What do you think Mandy?" "Oh yeah. I want to see how big he gets. I hope he is bigger than the last guy we had. That little six incher was disappointing." I wondered about that guy. Had he been a willing participant in their...'fun'? Somehow I doubted it. These ladies' knew what and how to take what they wanted, like they had done this quite a bit before. I could see myself being in the headlines. Dead man found floating naked in lake.' I was in trouble and not sure how much trouble I was in for sure yet. Mandy had begun to lick and kiss my cock, holding it up in her hands as she did. Sue stripped off her bikini, revealing a clean-shaven moist pussy. She moved to straddle my head, and as I looked up I saw drops of liquid hanging on her soft and tender pussy-lips. I knew what was coming, and realized that I had pretty much no choice in the matter, so I resigned myself to participating until I could hopefully get free. Sue lowered her pussy down and soon my nose was rubbing her slit as she began to ride my face. I stuck my tongue out and licked her finding that her taste was quite sweet and fresh. I felt her shudder as the tip of my tongue touched her clit. I couldn't see anything but Sue's pussy up close and personal, so to speak, but I could feel two tongues fighting over my cock. Despite my fears and misgivings, I was soon sporting a hard-on and those tongues and lips were going like crazy on it. Here I was, a middle-aged man, married and faithful to his wife, being taken' like the proverbial hundred pound weakling. They did have to work on me to get me hard so I felt a bit better about everything. I had never figured that a man could be raped...and here I was, proving that it could happen. "If you suck and fuck us real good tonight, in the morning we will let you go. I promise that you will enjoy our fun as much as we do too. No hard feelings? I mean, we know you are married and all, but if you are here and your wife isn't, then you must not be getting enough, ya know?" I couldn't answer since her pussy lips were grinding on my mouth and nose. I just mumbled and as I did she moaned and began to really rub herself on me. Realizing that the vibrations from my mumbling must have brought her close, I determined to get her off fast, and hopefully quicken my ordeal. I began to hum, and as I did her moans became cries of passion. Her legs locked around my head and she ground down harder and harder, causing me to not be able to breathe. I forged on with the humming, in hopes she would cum soon and let me breathe. "Ohhhh...Fuck...yes...YES...YES...God...mmmm....mmmphhh...YES...FUCK..." Her cries were louder and louder, her hips jerking as she came pretty hard. I tasted her juices as she squirted a rather large amount into my mouth. I swallowed as fast as I could and managed to get most of them. Sue collapsed off of me and rolled to the side, her breasts heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "Oh Jesus girls, you gotta try this guy's mouth. He really knows how to eat a girl out good." Mandy, her eyes locked on mine, moved up and straddled my face, just before she lowered her pussy down on me she smiled and caressed my cheek with her hands. "Okay lover, do me just like you did Sue. She has never came like that before and I want to experience that same feeling. See? I told you married guys knew what the fuck to do when it comes to fucking girls." As she said that last part she was lowering down on my mouth. Her thinly trimmed pussy beckoning to my senses. I tasted my third pussy in over ten years, and the second in a matter of minutes. The last time I had eaten my wife had been several months ago on our anniversary. She hadn't liked it that much, nothing for sure, like these young ladies seemed to like it anyway. I felt the mouth on my cock leave and then a warm and wet glove slipped over the head of it and slowly slipped down until I could feel her mound rubbing on my pubic bone. Pussy muscles grasping my shaft and alternately tugging and then relaxing, massaging my hardness. Mandy's eyes were on mine as she moved around on my face, my nose rubbing her clit just right as her moans were telling me. Her hands were behind her and on my belly. Carol, the young lady on my cock reached out and began to caress Mandy's breasts. Mandy's eyes closed as the stimulation from my tongue and mouth, combined with Carol's hands and fingers drove her into a trance. I moved my body to try to get a bit more comfortable and as I did my cock drove up farther into Carol's pussy. Moans were coming from all around me and I just let things go beginning to lose my fears and getting into the act of sex. I closed my eyes for a bit until I felt someone releasing one of my hands. Sue was pulling on my arm and positioning it and soon my fingers were getting wet with warm juices from a very tight pussy. Here I was, getting fucked by one girl, getting my face literally sat on by a second and my hand being guided to the pussy of a third. I forgot about being married, forgot about being at my cabin, and just reveled in the sexual nirvana I was participating in. Mandy began to get close to her climax and I began to hum, just as I had done for Sue. It didn't take Mandy long and she was rocking back and forth hard on my face, cumming exquisitely. She rolled off me, overcome by my humming and moaning laid beside me. Carol, leaned forward and let her breasts rub on my chest as she bounced on my shaft. Her orgasm was approaching, as was mine. I raised my head as best I could and licked her nipples three times before she orgasmed hard and I shot off inside her. Her head ended up by mine, her lips on my ear. "Oh...baby...your cock is just perfect. It filled me completely yet not too much, and it's so big around...you stretched me...mmmmm...God...I want more." "Uh...look, this has been good for me too ladies, but...well...um...hey, I won't say anything to anybody about this...lets call it a day huh? I don't want my wife to find out about this. She wouldn't understand." "Sugar daddy, we aren't done by a long ways...we'll wear you out tonight and tomorrow...you'll need a break from sex after we're done with you. Trust me...we will all have fun tonight and tomorrow. Lots and lots of fun." "But I'm married...it isn't right. Look, I did enjoy this just now, but..." "Then you're gonna love later sweetie. Trust us...we are going to give you one hell of a sexual stimulation tonight." The phone began to ring and one of the girls saw by the caller ID that it wasn't a number they knew. I was handed the phone and a they all sternly stared at me as I answered. It was my wife. "Hi honey. How's things?" "Uh...fine. Just...laying in the living room at the moment. How's things with you?" I was afraid that my wife would hear or be able to tell I had just fucked well, been fucked by three women and was not sure what I should say or do. The last thing I wanted was for my wife to think I had planned or worked this all out in some way. "Are you all right for sure dear? You sound...I don't know...winded. What's up anyway?" "Oh...I was working out. Doing pushups and stuff." "Oh? Since when have you begun to work out?" "Uh...today. I have been thinking that I'm getting out of shape a bit and..." "You? Out of shape? I hardly think so. You've always been in good shape. Who's there with you?" "Um...nobody, I'm by myself." "Are you sure? Sounds like you have three young sluts with you. What's going on anyway, Sam? Who's there with you?" I was stunned and guilty as hell. How she could tell was beyond me and here I was, naked, still tied down, three naked young ladies all around me. I decided to fake it and make like a joke. I was not sure what would happen if she found out, or if these women decided I was telling her too much...I was after all their prisoner. "Yeah...three nympho's grabbed me and took me prisoner. Fucked my eyeballs out. You really missed out Cheryl. It's been great." Her voice began to sound strange. As if it was fading on the phone, but still loud. "So, you admit to fucking three sluts huh? Mandy, Carol and Sue? Did they do you up real good?" "What...you know?" "Know? I arranged it Sam. A gift for you. From me." "I don't understand...why...why would you do something like this? What's going on?" Into the room walked Cheryl. Smiling as she looked at me still tied up, naked and three naked women around me. One of which was just beginning to lick my cock again. I was stunned and shocked. My brain was in neutral running at full speed trying to understand all that had happened. "But...the boat...it was damaged...they were just here visiting...you...the call to her dad...I'm your husband...what's going on Cheryl?" "Relax Sam. I wanted you to have the best birthday present I could think of. I know that you have been upset with me and my low sex drive for some time now. I didn't want you to cheat or go running around on me, with the possible chance of losing you. I arranged for these ladies to um...'catch' you fair and square." "I...but...I..." "But nothing. I want you to have fun with them. I want you to get all the sex you have ever dreamed of. I want you to enjoy your gift. I am sorry that they scared you a bit at first...but I see that you overcame that fear pretty quick." "I would have never cheated on you Cheryl. I would never have done that, or this for that matter." "Sam...I want you to do this. I want you to remember who gave this night, hell, this weekend to you. I want you to be happy in this aspect once. Just relax and go with the flow." "But...wait a minute. Did you do this for some other reason? Are you...have you..." "Cheated, Sam? Have I cheated on you? No. Never. I know that my sex drive is too low for you. I didn't want to lose you. You are too important to me to lose you to some trollop that would steal you away from me with big tits or lots of pussy and then toss you aside later. I can't give you the sex you need or want personally, so I figured that if I arranged for these ladies to take' you, you'd get your sexual wishes fulfilled and I would still have your love and you afterwards. Can you understand that? I love you so I wanted you to have your cake and eat it too...in a open and good way rather than some tawdry cheating way and possibly losing you to boot." "Cheryl...you didn't have to...I wouldn't have cheated on you. I love you. This..." "Sam, you know Julie and Bill are getting divorced right? Did you know that Julie's sex drive dropped off just like mine over two years ago? That Bill had a weak moment that turned into a genuine love affair? That he decided to leave her for his lover? I couldn't let that happen to us. I love you too much." "Bill was always a player though Cheryl. He even hit on you several Christmas parties in a row. You know that their situation was far different than ours." "Not really Sam. Just enjoy your gift. I'll tell you this much...no love bugs, no leaving me...just enjoy your gift and come home to me after the weekend's over." "The weekend's over as far as I'm concerned Cheryl. We're going home together." "Nu-uh big boy...you are staying. You forget...you're kind of tied up at the moment. Besides, I'm going to stay and watch for a while yet." "Watch for a while...YET? You've been watching this already?" "Of course silly. I wanted to make sure you didn't hurt the girls. I also wanted to just see you having sex too...it kind of...I wondered..." "Hey Sam, your wife paid for us for the weekend, and she wanted to watch. I think she may actually like watching you get fucked by the three of us. Since our time is paid for...relax...I want to untie you so we can fully enjoy your body...you do have a nice one you know. I thought your wife was crazy or trying to set you up at first. Now...well...she loves ya buddy...go with the flow." "It has kind of done something to me Sam. I don't know...I'm kind of...hot and bothered. I never knew that you looked so...well...sexy as you fucked." Cheryl was blushing as she told me that she liked to watch me with these women. I was shocked and stunned to quietness. What could I say? My wife had paid for three...I'd guess hookers or at least call-girls to take me and use me. All because she was afraid of losing me? Weird. I just then realized that the lips on my cock hadn't left and I was hard again. When that had happened I didn't know, but there I was, lips locked on my hard shaft. Lips that belonged to someone other than my wife. Cheryl stepped in close and leaned down, lips parting as they approached mine. Lightly at first, then crushing down hard she kissed me. Her tongue shot out and began to explore my mouth. For the first time in a long time, my wife was kissing me like she was hot and horny. I closed my eyes and enjoyed my wife's lips, as other lips caressed my cock. Someone untied my feet and other arm and soon I was enveloped in a sea of female flesh. Lips everywhere, hands touching, rubbing, even pinching. Cheryl was still kissing me, but she was undressing herself as she did. As she got more exposed the other girls began to caress her as well as me. Soon my wife laid on top of me and slowly pushed herself down over my shaft, fucking me like she never had before. Carol had moved to take one of Cheryl's breast's into her mouth, sucking on her nipple. Mandy had the other, sucking in similar motion. Sue had moved around and taking my hand, positioned it on her pussy. I was fucking my wife as two women sucked on her breasts while I was fingering a fourth. Never in all my years had I ever imagined such a scene. And my wife had set it all up on top of it all. Not only that, but she had unleashed some sexual part of herself in the process. I laid back and began to enjoy, for the first time, this whole gift'. Later, after everyone had enjoyed their own release, I was just sitting up against the couch, still on the floor. Cheryl in my arms as the three kidnappers' lounged around us, all still naked. "Well. I guess I should thank you Cheryl. I still don't understand it all, but thank you just the same." "Oh honey, it ended up being a door opener for me as well. I never knew...that is...I didn't know that my gift to you would open into a gift for me too." Mandy moved up and began to caress Cheryl. Cheryl, looking uncertain, glanced at me until Mandy took her head in her gentle hands and pulled her to face her. Cheryl's mouth opened as if she was about to say something and Mandy just put her mouth over Cheryl's and they began to kiss. I was sitting inches away watching my wife with another woman for the first time ever. Well, as far as I knew anyway. I was mesmerized as I watched this Sapphic delight being played out so close in front of me. Soon, my wife and this young lady were wrapped up in each other and exploring each other's body. I moved up to sit on the couch watching my wife as I had never seen her before. Sue sat next to me and began to play with my cock as we both watched. I was still in shock as my wife of over ten years showed me a side of her I had never imagined she had. To see her sucking on Mandy's breasts while fingering her pussy was so intense. Soon they had moved around and were sixty-nining each other. Cheryl was licking and sucking Mandy like she had done this millions of times and Mandy was right there with her too. I was hard as a rock watching this and Sue had now moved to suck me. I had my hands in her hair absent mindedly as I watched my wife...making out with another woman. Carol came to sit by me and she began to kiss and lick my face, drawing my attention away from my wife. I reached up and caressed her fine breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingers as our tongues interlocked with each other. Sue was taking my cock fully into her throat and seemed to love sucking me. I was freely having two women sexually as my wife was engaged with another right in front of me. Our lives had changed in dramatic ways in such a short time. I felt my cum boiling in my balls and knew I was about to shoot off, so I signaled Sue. She stopped for an instant then I felt her slowly take my cock back between her lips and push until those lips were buried in my pubic hair. The feeling of her lips sucking me that deeply coupled with my hands on Carol's breasts and my kissing her so fully caused me to shoot. Sue swallowed and swallowed, never losing a drop of my cum and I was sure I had shot a gallon into her as I came. I know that in reality I only shot probably a tablespoon or so, but it felt like gallons. Sue moved up and as Carol broke away, kissed me on my lips, her tongue shoved inside my mouth. I could taste myself on her tongue, but at that point I really didn't care either way about that. Carol moved down and began to suck on me again, getting me hard. Once I was hard, she straddled my lap and lowered her very tight and wet pussy down over my cock, throbbing as it were, in anticipation. Sue and I kissed for a bit as I played with her breasts and suddenly, Cheryl was there playing with them too. Her lips enclosed my fingers and pressed against Carol's nipples as I looked on. My Cheryl had changed so much in this way. I wondered why this change came about. I began to play with Cheryl's nipples with my free hand as her mouth captured my fingers on my other hand and held them to Sue's nipples. I was mesmerized and fascinated with all this flesh and the feeling with it. Carol was thrusting up and down on my shaft, her wetness enveloping my shaft firmly in its velvety grip. Cheryl moved up and pushing me back against the couch back, she put a leg over my body and moved her pussy into my face. I got the idea quickly. I began to lick and suck on my wife's pussy as she stood in front of me while Carol rode my shaft. Mandy had moved around and was licking my wife's ass and kissing her back as I did the same for her front. Sue was playing with Cheryl's breasts, sucking first one then the other, biting her nipples in little nips and pulling out quite far as she did. Moaning, Cheryl began to shake and quiver as her orgasm rolled over her. I was soon following her as Carol was grinding hard down on me as she came too. I forced my tongue into Cheryl's pussy along with two of my fingers and as I fingered her, sucking on her clit, she came hard as I had ever seen or felt her cum. We all laid together for a bit, Cheryl staying on top of me, her breast's in my face. I was enjoying the rest and the way things had turned out. I had lots of questions for Cheryl, but right now it seemed that they were not that important. Perhaps on the way home later we would talk. I fell asleep, and when I awoke I was alone. The house was quiet. Too quiet. I got up and after a trip to the bathroom I looked around for the others. I was alone in the house. If it weren't for the ruined boat on my trailer down by the dock, I would have thought that I had just had a long and realistic dream. I showered and grabbed a bite to eat. Then, having nothing else to do, I went down to look the wrecked boat over. As I walked down by the dock it dawned on me that my boat was gone. Evidently, the girls had taken my boat out. I hoped that they stayed well away from where they had been when they hit that rock yesterday. I kind of still liked my boat a bit too much to lose it in the same way. As I looked over their boat a pickup with an empty trailer pulled into the yard. An older man got out of the drivers side and a man in a suit out of the passenger side. "Hey...I'm Sue's dad. She said the my boat was...holy shit...she wasn't kidding...she did ruin my baby." "Yeah...she hit some rocks out there...somewhere. I got them in just before the boat sank. It was actually quite close. They are doing all right though." "Hell, I know they are all right. Them girls...wish Sue wouldn't hang around with them. I think that Mandy and Carol are...well...I wouldn't be surprised to find out that they're sluts or prostitutes or the like...know what I mean?" "Oh...I'm sure that they are good girls..." "Then they haven't tried to fuck you yet. Shit...they were hitting on me in front of my wife...got her all fired up too. Damn women anyway. Oh well, that was a year or two ago now anyway. This here's my insurance agent. He wanted to look over the boat and take some pictures of her. Damn girls anyway." "I'm sure it was just an accident. It could have happened to anyone." "Yeah...well it wasn't just anyone. It was my baby and my daughter. No boat for the rest of the summer...damn. I was planning on doing some fishing too." "Hey...look, if you want...you could use my boat. You'd have to gas it up and take care of it of course, but you are more than welcome to use mine." "Really? What do you got? Hope it ain't a row boat or skiff. I have some friends I like to take out time to time you know?" I was a bit put out by this guy. He seemed to think that I would only have a small boat when in fact, mine was a bit bigger than his. My grandfather had always had large boats here and I had kept up that tradition. Mostly because trading in a large boat for another large one was simpler and cost effective. Right about then Cheryl and the girls showed up. My boat, all 36 feet of her looked to be in good condition. As they tied up, Sue came up and told her dad what had happened. There was a bit of yelling, then the agent talked to her. Evidently he must have said something to placate Sue's father because he suddenly got quiet. They loaded the wrecked boat on the other trailer and left. "Dad was mad until he found out that the insurance was going to pay far more than he had in his baby. He'll be able to get a bigger and better boat now. Of course it will take some time. Did you really offer to let dad use your boat Sam? That's awfully nice of you." "Uh...well...he seemed so disappointed and all. Besides, how often will he actually use it?" "Oh, not too often. He has his buddies he likes to take out on the lake time to time, about once a month or so I suppose. You are a nice guy you know that? Good thing that Cheryl is married to you...otherwise I'd be working to catch you." Embarrassed, I went inside and busied myself in the kitchen. Cheryl came in and since we were alone she began to talk to me. "You're not mad at me are you Sam?" "What? No...I'm not mad. I was confused and a bit worried for a while, but I'm not mad. You seemed...well...I've never seen...that is...I was surprised that you would..." "Me too. I have never felt quite like I felt at that moment Sam. It seemed...well...right. I loved it too. You won't be mad if I decide to stay and...uh...well..." "Oh honey...I'd love it if you would stay. We can do so many things together. It will be great." "I meant to stay with you and the...um...girls. You know...the sex? I want to stay and have more fun like we already have had." "Oh...yeah. Um...at the risk of sounding kind of dumb...you're not going to...uh...I'm not losing you to..." "Oh Sam...no...I love you too much to leave you for anyone. Besides, as good as it feels to be with another woman, I love your cock too much to give it up. Honey, you're stuck with me." I relaxed. I had begun to think that maybe she was going lesbian on me and would want to leave me for some other woman. Cheryl, despite her late lack of wanting to have sex, was still my partner and best friend. I loved her too.. We had a light lunch and then I discovered that all of us were going to finish out the weekend at the cabin. I was to be throughly fucked and put away soft and wet. As Cheryl put it...and the others were quick to agree. It came out that Cheryl knew Mandy from where she worked and together they had worked out the details for this weekend. My wife had been worried about us and our lack of sex due to her lower drive. I tried several times to explain how that made no difference to me and that I loved her anyway...but it fell on deaf ears. They were too busy playing with me and getting each other off too. I spent the rest of the weekend in delight and fun. I learned several things about my wife I never knew, that she never knew about herself for that matter. I also had some great pointers on oral sex for women, having lots of practice over those days. On Sunday, as we readied to leave for home, the girls all drug me into the house. There, standing naked in the bedroom was Cheryl, looking more beautiful than I had ever seen her before. She opened her arms up to me and the others pushed me over. As Cheryl began to hug, kiss, lick, caress and undress me, the others quietly left the room. I spent two hours with my formerly almost frigid wife, having the best sex we had ever had. She begged me to take her, she was vocal and insistent. She even demanded that I take her anally too. In the most cautious way I could we had anal sex for the first time. And I found out that not only did I like it, so did Cheryl. Just as we finished up, the others came in and naked, began to play with us. Late that afternoon we all straggled out to the two cars and made plans for the next weekend. The whole summer ended up being a learning experience for Cheryl and I. At one point I even watched as Cheryl had two other men, at my arranging. Sue and Mandy had helped me make the details possible, and it turned out to be the best weekend ever. I found out that my love for my wife included letting her have others just as she had let me have other women. Together we explored our limits and love. Now, our relationship is fuller than it ever has been before. We don't get with others quite as often, but we still do time to time. Mostly we enjoy each other and have wonderful intimate times alone. It isn't for everyone, and matter of fact, a few years ago I would have had serious problems with it all. Now, and how my wife arranged it all, my eyes have been opened and my heart as well. Cheryl is my life, my love, and my best friend. Till death do us part.

Title: Slave Patty Author: Darwin Part: 1 Summary: Patty receives an introduction to the sex slave lifestyle and an invitation Keywords: slow, Mdom, bbw, FF, MF, humil, BD, reluc, slave Slave Patty Copyright (c) 2010 by [email protected] (slow Mdom bbw FF MF humil BD reluc slave) Chapter 1: Patty is a Fatty Patty Sullivan ate the snickers chocolate bar in defeat. A small part of her mind was well-aware that eating sweets like the snickers was a big part of her problem. But dieting didn't seem to help and at 23 Penny weighed almost 250 pounds even though she was only 5' 6". She had once been a pretty blond-haired, blue-eyed girl and she still retained pretty features, but all men noticed when they saw her were the rolls of fat and a triple-chin. Once, she had had a "fellow traveler" in her involuntary segregation. When Patty had started at Humbard-Settle, Janet Weber had trained her and the two had become close friends. They both had the same figure (curvy, but quite overweight), the same fashion-sense, and the same sense of humor. Janet was several years older than Penny and had "gone to seed" (actually, "gone to The Cheesecake Factory") a bit more. Penny did not like thinking bad things about her friend, but once Janet had ripped a seam while bending over, and Penny thought to herself, 'I WILL staple my mouth shut if I ever get that bad!'. But the truth was that Patty had little self-control. In her mind, Penny was sure that the fact that neither Janet nor herself had had a boyfriend in a long, long time was due to their weight problem. And, at this rate, it didn't look like either of them was likely to get married. Sometimes she railed against a world prejudiced against over-weight people. But, most of the time, she just drowned her loneliness in Haagen-Dazs and Kahlua. So, Penny was extremely interested when Janet seemed to start losing weight rapidly. A couple years after Penny had started working with Janet, she noticed that Janet had lost weight. Clothes that had been tight--a blouse that Penny herself had bought for Janet--now seemed loose. Janet just said "Oh, thanks" and acted like nothing was going on. She avoided discussing it and denied that she was dieting. But, it continued: week after week, Janet would come in on Monday looking thinner and also more fit. Patty couldn't get over her friend's transformation but Penny was feeling even fatter and less attractive. Janet had naturally curly brown hair, to which she added an artificial reddish tinge. As she lost weight, her high cheeks, full lips and hazel eyes stood out more -- she really had a pretty face. Adding insult to Penny's injured sense of friendship, as most of Janet slimmed down, her breasts slimmed only a little, perhaps one or two minor cup sizes. Briefly, Penny worried that Janet was sick and that that was the reason for her silence. But as the weeks passed, and Janet was clearly getting fitter as well as thinner, Penny could not believe that Janet was seriously ill. But it was weird how Janet refused to admit that she was dieting, or indeed, that she was losing weight. Whenever Patty would raise the subject, Janet would change the subject or ignore her. Another weird thing was that Janet had stopped having lunch with her. Janet would eat at her desk now and she was secretive about her food. Penny had a hard time examining Janet's food closely, but she always ate a lunch that she had brought with her and sometimes it seemed like granola, while at other times Janet had fruits or vegetables. As this went on, Penny was, frankly, getting increasingly angry with her friend. It was wonderful that Janet was losing weight and it's a free country if you want to pretend that it's not happening. But whatever Janet was doing was working great! Janet was looking thinner but also more toned and fit. And Penny was hurt and angry that her friend kept her weight-loss secret from her. Months had passed and Janet was now quite svelte, as compared to Patty. By this time, Patty hardly felt that Janet was her friend anymore. They still talked but Janet was very closed about so many things now; it was like she was a different person. Men in the office certainly acted like a new girl had been hired. For example, a guy from a department at the top of the building would walk a file down, rather than putting it in inter-office mail, and then he'd stay to chat for a minute. Penny saw a married man take his ring off before he went over for an overly-long consultation with Janet and Penny overhead more than a couple guys ask Janet out, but she always refused. Penny was envious and desperately wanted to know the secret of her new-found fitness, but despite repeated attempts to raise the subject, Janet refused to talk about it. Then, one Tuesday, just before quitting time, Janet came over to Patty's desk. "Patty," she began as she looked around to make sure not on could hear them, "you noticed how I have changed over the past few months... I lost weight and ... everything, and ... I... well... I wasn't permitted to speak of it before now. But now I, um... well, He said I should talk to you about it." "Oh, no..." Patty lied. "Well, yeah, I noticed how you... You look great now! I wish I looked so good!" In that instant, she felt like things were back to normal and she was talking to the friend she had always known. Janet smiled, but only half-way. "I know. He asked me to see if you wanted to come meet Him." "Who is 'he'?" Penny asked. "Um... He is the reason for my weight loss and... well, everything." she said with a nervous smile. "I'm not permitted to lie about this but I can't talk about it here. Do you have any plans for tonight?" "I... yeah..." In fact, Penny's TV show was on tonight, but she was intrigued. "No. I mean, I can get together. You mean, like, meet him tonight?" Janet smiled but she also looked a bit perturbed. "Let's talk after work," she said. "I just have a file to finish, I'll be ready to go in 5 minutes," she added brightly, and then she was gone. Penny finished her work and waited for Janet to finish her's. Soon they were headed down to the street and Janet was making small talk about insignificant things. When they left the building, Janet lead Penny a couple doors down the street and pulled her out of the bustle of the sidewalk into a doorway. "He is going to meet us over there, in about five minutes," she said, pointing to a pub across the street. "If you like," she added. "I... um... well..." she wore a pained expression. Penny tried to interrupt, but Janet shushed her and dropped her bomb, "I have to tell you who He is -- He is my Master. I am his slave." "What do you mean, 'slave'?" Penny asked. "He owns me, I am His. He tells me what to do and I do it. I submitted myself to Him a year ago. That's why I have lost all this weight." Penny was bewildered. "You mean, he's some kind of weight-loss guru?" Janet's pained look got deeper. "I am his slave... his sex slave," she said very carefully, "He is my Master. I live in The House with Him... whatever he says, I do. My life now revolves around pleasing Him. I... I told him that I missed being your friend and he commanded me to speak to you about this. He wants to meet you. He... wants to invite you to His House." She looked up and down the street. "I have to go now and wait for him. You have to decide if you want to meet him. There isn't much time." Penny was bewildered and flabbergasted, but she looked Janet over as she spoke and the fact was that Janet looked great; Penny wanted to meet this 'Master' who had done such magic for her friend. She also missed being friends with Janet and didn't want that to stop. "Sure," Penny said at last, and although she tried to smile and act light-hearted, she wondered what what she was getting herself into. Janet's eye's lit up and a wide smile crossed her face. "Oh, that's great!" she said. "Only we MUST hurry!" and she grabbed Penny's arm and hurried her across the street and into the pub. It was dark inside but Janet seemed to know just where to go, navigating to a back room with a door marked "private". She opened the door and pulled Penny in. The room was a pleasant sitting room. There was a low table next to an overstuffed chair and scattered around the chair were some cushions. On the other side of the room was a dining table and six chairs. Just to the side of the door was an armoire. "You can sit on any of the cushions," Janet said, "NOT on the chair. I... I have to get ready." She looked like she wanted to say more but at last she said simply: "Oh, please don't judge me until you know the whole truth." Then she started to hurriedly disrobe! In a flash, she had taken all her clothes off -- even her bra and panties -- and placed the folded clothes in the armoire. She took out a black leather collar and wrapped it around her neck. Then she took some chains from the armoire and locked them around her ankles. She then hobbled over next to the big chair, dropped to her knees, then forward so that her face was on the carpet. She thrust her hands between her legs and seemed to fasten handcuffs. When Janet was done, she was locked in her chains, on her knees, with her pussy and ass high in the air and blatantly on display. Janet was helpless, with her wrists locked tightly near her ankles. Penny was shocked, but a bit amused as well. She had to admit that her friend looked good naked. Penny, herself, was very self-conscious and she would have died of embarrassment and humiliation if anyone had seen her naked and so, "on display." Despite herself, Penny walked around behind Janet to get a better view. Janet's ass was firm and full without being flabby and she had removed every trace of hair from her pussy area. Penny was a little shocked to have such an unobstructed view of Janet's labia and asshole, but it also made her excited. Just then, an older man, dressed in the food-stained whites of a cook, burst into the room and went straight over to Janet. He was surprised when he saw Penny. "Evening, Miss," he said with a nod of his greying head and an awkward smile. Then he pulled out his cock, which was hard and already long. Using her hair as a handle, he pulled Janet's head off the carpet, up to crotch level. Then he started thrusting his long cock into Janet's mouth. For her part, Janet seemed eager to suck the old man's penis. Penny couldn't take her eyes off the spectacle of Janet and the old man. Absentmindedly, she sat down in the chair. Soon, the old man was mercilessly fucking Janet's mouth, pulling all the way out and then thrusting all the way home, so that Janet's face was smashed against the greying hairs of his belly. "That's it whore," he finally spoke, "Swallow my cock. I'm going to feed you some dinner." Penny was, if possible, even more surprised when the door opened and a tall man dressed all in black entered. Three steps behind him, there came a naked woman. She had long red hair and she wore only a black leather collar, like Janet's. Also like Janet, she was trim and fit and utterly denuded of any hair below her eyebrows. Her face was hard to see, because she was staring at the floor, but she looked quite attractive to Penny. The man in black crossed the room to Penny and smiled broadly at her. "You must be Penny Sullivan? Welcome! Janet has told me all about you and I know that she is very happy that you are here." "Thank you," Penny said shyly, she still wasn't sure why she was there. "Did Janet mention that you aren't supposed to sit in that chair?" the man asked with twinkling eyes. "Oh!" Penny jumped out of the chair. "I'm sorry!" she said, her face turning red. "Don't worry," the man said with an even broader smile, "But if you could please remember--it's a matter of some importance--did she mention to you that sitting in this chair was forbidden?" "No," Penny lied. "I thought she said I could sit anywhere." The tall man doubted Penny, but he let the matter drop. "So, you will join us for diner, won't you? The food here is simple but excellent!" "Yes, thank you," Penny said. "These others..." he gestured at the two naked slave girls, "call me Master Quin, but you may address me simply as 'Quin'" he said with a smile. Penny started to ask a question but Quin had turned to Janet and said, "Finish Old Tom, my dear, I'm sure we're all very hungry." Immediately, Janet started humming or moaning and Old Tom threw his head back. "Oh God, oh God," he cried over and over. After about a minute of this, he switched to "Oh God YES! OH GOD YES!" and then his body seemed to undulate and his thrusting became leisurely. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and Janet thrust her tongue out in pursuit. It dawned on Penny that Janet must have swallowed the old man's jism. The thought bounced back and forth in her head. On one hand, it was disgusting but it was also hot to see her friend do something so wickedly intimate and subservient. Old Tom let go of the slave's head and she toppled back to the carpet. He put away his shrunken manhood and then Quin helped Old Tom up from his knees. "Did she do a good job, Old Tom?" Quin asked. "Oh yes Sir." Old Tom looked happy but sheepish, "As always Sir." "Well, let me introduce our guest. Old Tom," Quin said, turning towards Penny, "This is Slave Janet's friend Penny... Penny, this is The Blind Dragon's culinary genius.. the man responsible for our feast tonight." Old Tom bowed slightly and smiled. Penny didn't know what to do, so she bowed also. "You two put on quite a show for Penny." Quin grinned broadly. "Oh, I'm sorry miss," he said while turning bright red. "Not at all, not at all," Quin admonished. "I appreciate your entertaining both girls for me." "My pleasure, Sir," said Old Tom, "But I better get back to the kitchen and see to dinner. The soup is ready, shall I bring it in?" "Yes, please," Quin answered and Old Tom dashed out of the room with as much speed as he had entered. As Quin was seating Penny at his right side, Old Tom was back bearing rolls, two bowls of soup, and some other items. Quickly and expertly, he laid out settings for Quin and Penny and served the soup. "Cream of summer vegetable with meat" he said and was gone. It smelled delicious to Penny. "Ah, Old Tom's cream soups are always a treat," Quin said and started in on the soup. When he was almost done, Penny noticed that he took a roll, broke it in two and dipped the halves into the soup. But he did not eat the rolls, he placed them on an empty plate. As Quin and Penny were eating, the two slave girls knelt by the big chair. Penny wondered when they would eat. Maybe that old guy's sperm was all Janet would get for dinner? That seemed incredibly harsh. "So, I'm sure you have questions," Quin said, seeing her gazing at the kneeling slaves. "Oh," Penny was suddenly shy of this man. "No, not really." "Oh come now," Quin admonished, "You want to ask about your friend and being a slave and what all this means. I can see it in your eyes." This made Penny blush because he was exactly right. But she still felt shy around this man who had such an effect on her friend. "Maybe later," was all she said. Quin was undeterred. "You see, I am a modern-day slave owner. Presently, I have three slaves. You know Janet and you see Cecily there with her," he waved his arm toward the slave girls. "They have submitted themselves to me. They are my slave girls to order and discipline... and enjoy. Their only concern in life now is to please me." Quin laughed at Penny's expression. "Yes, sex too, especially sex. Janet will tell you that she especially likes the sex. I think that's a main reason why she stays, aside from her promise to do so. But the other reason," Quin was suddenly thoughtful, "is that girls like Cecily and Janet don't like to make decisions. They don't like risks or uncertainty. They become stressed very easily." And what he said was true. It dawned on Penny that, even more than the weight loss, the biggest change in Janet over the past several months was that she seemed quite serene. Penny had just noticed that her friend had a lot less to talk about, but really, she no longer complained about different stresses. Quin was still talking, "See, that's the beauty of slavery -- slaves don't make decisions. They don't decide what or when to eat, they don't have to decide where to live or what to buy. If a problem arises, they simply tell me. I make all those decisions for my household. Janet doesn't even have to make work decisions. She simply obeys my directives, and if she has a question, she texts me and I tell her what to do." Quin was growing animated, and Penny tried to listen but she was noticing how piercing his blue eyes were and how handsome he was. "You noticed her weight-loss and her fitness, didn't you?" Penny was startled out of her reverie by his question. She had rather liked listening to his voice. Luckily, the answer was simple enough. "Yes, Sir," she said. "Why do you call me Sir?" Quin asked. But then he answered himself: "You like what you hear. You are think that you would like this. I see that. Very well, you may call me 'Sir' but you may not call me 'Master'. If you do so, you will be punished." "Yes Sir." "Tell me, Penny, have you ever been with a woman? I mean, have you ever kissed a woman? Or licked another woman's pussy? Or wanted to do so?" "No, Sir, I have never kissed a woman or anything with a woman. I don't think I ever was attracted to a woman but there was a boy in school that I liked and I told a friend of mine that I would... be with a woman, if that boy asked me." Just then, a man, a stranger to Penny, came in bearing dishes. He quickly served salads and appetizers and removed the soup bowls. He ignored the plate prepared by Quin and he didn't even seem to notice two naked women kneeling by the chair. Quin, meanwhile, had walked over to Janet. Now he easily lifted her up and brought her to the table. He set her down kneeling on the far end of the table. "Heel", he said and instantly Cecily jumped to her feet, scampered over to Quin and dropped to her knees at his right hand. "Up on the table, Cecily. Kneel facing Janet." Cecily immediately rose and climbed onto the table to kneel facing, almost touching, Janet. "Kiss," said Quin and the two slaves began to kiss. "Open your mouths and use your tongues," Quin commanded. Instantly, both of them opened their mouths, tilted their heads, and kissed like lovers. Penny was a little surprised at this turn of events. She found herself wondering what it felt like to kiss a girl. She had never been attracted sexually to Janet but now the thought of being the one kissing Janet.. or Cecily, turned her on. She reflected that she certainly had never been kissed like that before, by anyone. "Here," Quin said to Penny as he dug a key out of his pocket, "use this key to unlock Janet's shackles." Penny walked to where Janet and Cecily knelt and continued to tongue wrestle. Penny heard them both moaning quietly and the wet sounds of their kissing. She felt her own pussy getting wetter at this spectacle. It was hard to get her fat hands between the two girls. She turned to look at Quin. "Try going underneath her backside," Quin suggested. Penny went behind Janet and indeed, she could see the cuffs but to put her hand through, she would brush Janet's labia for sure. She looked at Quin. He was tapping a finger against the table impatiently. With a sense of submission, Penny snaked her hand under Janet. Penny's hand and arm brushed against Janet's pussy and she felt how soft Janet's pussy was and how wetly excited she had become; the juices wet Penny's arm, but she stuck to her task and fit the key into one cuff and unlocked it. Doing so, however, caused her arm to twist and push against Janet's pussy. Janet ignored this, neither rising not lowering herself. Penny pulled her arm out and turned to return to her seat. "Did you remove the shackles completely?" Quin asked pointedly. "No Sir," Penny said and turned back to Janet. She slid her arm underneath her friend's soft, wet pussy and worked the key into the other hand cuff, then the ankle cuffs, which were a lot easier. Then she removed the chains and returned to her place. "Was that satisfactory, Sir?" she asked. "Yes," Quin replied through a mouthful of salad. "Please, eat your salad. The next course will be here shortly and we haven't even touched the appetizers. Blind Dragon crab cakes are absolutely renowned!" As Penny began on her salad, Quin addressed the slaves again. "Sixty-nine race. Janet, you take top." The two slaves lay down in a 69 position with Janet on top. Penny was shocked to watch her friend performing oral sex on Cecily. Penny wondered what it was like to kiss another women there, what it smelled and tasted like. And then she wondered what it was like to have the gentle roughness of a girl's tongue to run over your clit and up and down one's labia. Quin was watching Penny closely as she watched Janet and Cecily. "Like the show?" he asked with a smile. "Oh..." Penny didn't know what to say. "Yes." She ate her salad. Soon Janet started writhing on top of Cecily. She moaned loudly and it was obvious that she was climaxing. Still Cecily vigorously tongued Janet and Janet continued to writhe and moan on top of the red-headed girl. "Two points for Cecily. Now Janet, you owe her two free style orgasms." "Between my legs," Cecily ordered Janet, "Use your mouth and both hands." Janet got up and knelt between Cecily's knees to bring her to a pair of climaxes. She seemed to be using both hands and her mouth on Cecily. For her part, Cecily beamed at Quin and Penny. She twisted her erect nipples and breathed hard. "Oh yes, Oh yes, make me cum you slut," she hissed. Cecily came hard on Janet's face, moaning loudly and saying nasty things like "Tongue harder slut" or "Next you're going to do my ass, slut!" Penny ate a crab cake -- this was way better than television. True to her word, when Cecily came down off that climax, she turned around to present her backside to Janet's face. "Spread my cheeks; I want your tongue all over my asshole," she ordered. Soon she was saying "Yessss" and making little sounds of pleasure. "Now fuck my cunt with your fingers," she ordered. "No turn your hand around... Ah, that's perfect. Now rub my clit. Ahhhh. NOW! NOW with your tongue, fuck my ass. Fuck my ass with your slut tongue you lazy... Ah, Ah! AH God yesssss." This went on for three more crab cakes and then Cecily climaxed hard and long with Janet's busy tongue in her ass. Holding Janet's face tightly in her ass, she collapsed onto the floor and rubbed her privates against the carpet while riding her climax, which lasted a full two minutes. "Bravo!" Quin clapped for the slave girls. "Come beg for some crab cake." Instantly Cecily was on her knees making plaintive guttural cries with her mouth open and her hands behind her back. Quin fed her small bits of crab cake directly from his fingers. She would take it from his fingers and rub her face against his torso while chewing and swallowing; then she was back to begging again. Janet, exhausted from the sex, was slower but was soon on her knees with her hands behind her back and making submissive begging noises for her bits. The two slaves playfully tried to nudge each others head's away from Quin's hand. The two slaves then took turns dancing as Quin and Penny ate the rest of their dinner. Quin thoroughly charmed Penny during dinner. It was obvious that he had learned much about her from Janet because he inquired about her family and friends and discussed shared interests. It was also clear that he was an educated and well-traveled man of great experience and wisdom. After dinner, Quin said, "Penny, you are every bit as pretty and charming as Janet said you were. I know Janet misses you a great deal and now that I have come to know you, I understand why. Would you be interested in joining my household as a slave? I can promise you that you will look and feel better, just like Janet, and I think you will enjoy being my slave and that I will enjoy owning you." Penny didn't know what to say. She was certainly tempted. Quin saw that she was coming around and proceeded. "No need to answer now. Come home with Janet tomorrow, or any night this week, OK?" "Ok," Penny answered, she felt like going with Quin now. "Now then," Quin said forcefully, advancing on Janet, "Is it true that you failed to warn Penny that she must not sit in my chair?!" "No, Master!" Janet replied quickly; Penny could see her tremble. Penny suddenly felt very nervous. "Penny says that you did not warn her!" Quin said loudly and firmly. "Why would she say that?" "I don't know, Master," Janet said evenly but quietly, "Maybe she didn't hear me." Penny was in a quandary; she couldn't correct herself now, but she was fearful of what was coming. She started to sweat. "Janet, bring me the Number 1 crop," Quin ordered. Janet went to the armoire and removed a crop. Then she put it in her mouth, dropped to her hands and knees, and crawled to her Master. Out of the corner of his eye, Quin could see Penny getting visibly upset. 'Ah ha!' he thought to himself. 'Or, maybe not. Maybe she's just not cut out for being a slave after all... Well, best to find that out at once.' "Thank you," Quin said to Janet as he accepted the crop. He whipped it through the air a few times; It made a fearful whizzing noise. Penny could imagine how much it must hurt to be hit by it. She got even more upset and nervous for her friend. "Assume whipping position!" Quin ordered. Janet immediately knelt down, then lowered her face to the carpet. She stuck her hands straight up, over her head. Her ass and sex were prominently displayed and accessible. Her toes were pointed and just touching; her feet lay flat on the ground. Quin turned to Penny. "There are Masters and slaves that love this part best, but I am not one of those Masters. But when a slave fails her duties, it is my job to help her to improve herself. I take this very seriously. It is fortunate that Janet slipped, so that now I can show you a little of the discipline a slave might endure." Quin turned back to the prostrate Janet. "I would never discipline a slave without reason and Janet rarely slips, so we are very fortunate, indeed." Quin raised the whip high... "Wait!" Penny interrupted. "I.. I'm... I think she did warn me." Quin turned to Penny, very slowly. "Sorry?" "Now I do remember that she did tell me not to sit on the chair." Penny was very nervous now. "I.. It slipped my mind." Quin said nothing for several heartbeats. He simply stood over Janet, holding he crop and staring at Penny with those piercing eyes of his. Penny cast her eyes down. "I'm very sorry. She told me not to sit in your chair but I forgot and when you asked, I got confused and I... Don't whip her, she told me." "Penny, earlier you said quite clearly that Janet did not tell you..." Quin paused for dramatic effect. "... Either you were not telling the truth then... or now." Quin felt that he knew that she was lying now, and he wanted to make Penny squirm. Penny looked down at her friend, naked and prostrate with her ass up for whipping. "I... lied before because I was embarrassed that I forgot. Please don't whip her." "Well..." Quin said slowly, "If you were one of my slaves, I would have to discipline you for lying to me." Quin paused for that to sink in. "But since you are not one of my slaves, you must ask me to discipline you." Quin paused again. He could see Penny's mental anguish on her face. "If you do not ask me to discipline you, I will whip Janet." Penny looked down at her friend. She started to get teary. "Oh, please don't whip her," she sobbed. Quin was impassive; he was quite familiar with tears; they were, he knew, a good start. Quin raised the whip over Janet's pale ass. "Say 'Please, Master Quin'" Quin said evenly. Penny sobbed "Please, Master Quin..." "'...Please discipline me for lying'" Penny sobbed and turned away. Quin brought the crop down hard on Janet's ass with a sharp crack. Penny's facial expression was like it was she that was struck. Her eyes were big and round, her mouth open. All sobbing was temporarily ended. "One!" Janet called out clearly. Her face held a grimace, but she didn't otherwise cry out. "'...Please discipline me for lying'" Quin repeated. "Oh God," Penny started sobbing again. She could see an angry red mark appearing on Janet's white ass. "Oh God, please discipline me." "Strip!" Quin replied. Penny hesitated, so Quin raised the crop high above Janet's ass again. Penny started fumbling with her buttons. "I will give you sixty seconds," Master Quin said, "and then I whip Janet once every three seconds until you are naked." Quin looked at Cecily, "Count seconds!" "One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand,..." Cecily began counting. Penny began wildly clawing at her clothes. At 30 seconds, she was trying to get her panty-hose off. As the seconds ticked down, she ripped them to get them loose. She fell down and tugged the tangled ruins and her panties off. At 50 seconds, she only had her bra, which she quickly undid and, with a single second remaining, she flung it off and sat their naked. "You're a beautiful nude," Quin said admiringly, "I wish I had an easel and paint right now but maybe I'll paint you later. Now, you must stand up." Penny clumsily regained her feet. She felt 90% awkward, 10% sexy, being naked in front of this mysterious, handsome man and his two sex slaves. "Now, bend down from the waist and pick up each garment, one at a time." Penny turned her ass away from him and started to bend over as ordered. "Stop!" Quin commanded. "I want to see your ass when you bend over. Turn around... that's it. Ok, now proceed." Penny bent down and picked up her panties. "Fold it and put it in the armoire over there." Penny did as he requested. Quin watched her walk over to the armoire with the panties. She was too heavy, but she carried herself with grace. "Now the next item, quickly." Again, Penny bend over at the waist and offered him a view of her ass, then she folded that item and put it in the armoire. A few more times and she was done. "Now, Penny, assume whipping position." Quin ordered. "The same position as Janet, right next to her on the carpet there." Quin waited while Penny joined her friend on the carpet. Penny tried to mirror her friend's pose. "Straighten your arms... Good. While you are being disciplined, you MUST hold this position. Especially, you must not move your hands nor your feet and you must hold your bottom up high in the air. Understand?" "Yes, Master" Penny replied quietly. Her eyes were wet, but she had stopped crying. A large part of her mind wondered how she came to be naked, waiting to be whipped on the ass. She felt humiliated. But a small part of her wondered what it felt like and she wondered if she looked as sexy as Janet did, with her ass in the air, and whether Quin thought she was sexy and whether he wanted her. It was silly, but she wished that she had gotten her private parts waxed, so she would be 'all there' like Janet. "Very good," Quin said while idly stroking Penny's exposed bottom. "Your toes need to touch at the tip like Janet's," Quin corrected her. Penny made her toes touch. "I have decided that your offense requires seven strokes," He said, "But there is a problem. On the one hand, you committed these offenses, Penny, and your bottom should suffer all seven strokes. On the other hand, you have not yet been initiated.. you are not yet mine to discipline. I had thought to whip Janet in your place, since I own her and may do as I please... But you have begged me not to whip her. What do you think I should do, Penny?" "I..." Penny thought about this for a moment. She didn't want to get whipped at all... Oh, sure, a small part of her mind wondered what it felt like. She also did not want to have her friend punished in her place. "Ahhh..." Suddenly, she had a flash of inspiration. "Sir... Master Quin, I think you should do as you please with me and slave Janet." she said in her meekest, most subservient voice. "Oh, my!" Quin explained, "You are a perfectly clever girl Penny! That is exactly the correct answer and since you have been so clever and so submissive, I award you a point and reduce your punishment by a stroke. You each shall each have three lashes upon your behinds. And... let's see if this makes it interesting... Cecily, here will kiss you between strokes. Now, you must count each stroke and if you miscount, or fail to count, then we will start all over again." Quin motioned Cecily over and the girl came and knelt at his feet. Quin immediately smacked Penny's ass hard with the crop. The sharp 'Crack!' shocked Penny and it was followed by a wave of pain. Penny was unable to prevent herself from crying out in pain and surprise. She managed, however, to keep her pose. And, after the initial shock, she realized that it had surprised her more than it hurt her; actually, less pain than she had feared. As she was processing this first blow, Quin waited impatiently only a heartbeat and then said, "Penny, did I command you to count each stroke?" "One!" Penny said quickly. "Sorry, too late." Quin replied firmly. "Because you did not count that, we start over... You need to carefully listen when I explain something and do exactly as I say." Quin then bent down to Cecily and whispered "Tongue her asshole" and then, gripping Cecily's head by her hair, he guided it between Penny's ass cheeks. Cecily had to spread Penny's cheeks but she started tonguing Penny's asshole vigorously. Quin watched closely, he couldn't see Penny's face but he knew that she would enjoy this sensation, although in some girls it was so dirty that they couldn't accept it. As Quin predicted, Penny eagerly forgot about how dirty this was as she soaked up the naughty pleasure of it. Quin brought the crop down on Janet's ass. "One!" Janet said loud and clear. Quin then pulled Cecily's head off Penny's ass, then farther way when she kept holding Penny's ass cheeks apart. Quin smacked Penny hard across the ass again. Quickly, and without regard for Cecily's comfort, he shoved her face back into Penny's ass. "One!" Penny called out. "I'm sorry Penny," Quin said. "That was stroke two. You and Janet are sharing strokes, so you would say 'Two!' on the second stroke. We start again, please try to pay attention." Penny felt frustrated and her ass hurt! But she held her tongue, merely moaning a bit. It was hard for Penny to process, like wanting warm but having cold and hot; except the smacks, though they hurt badly, were not entirely without warmth and Cecily's tongue on and in her anus was pleasantly hot and felt heavenly. Quin removed Cecily, smacked Penny's ass as hard as he could, then jammed her face back onto Penny's ass. "Ahhh! One!" Penny screamed. Quin then immediately repeated this maneuver. "Ahhh! Two! Oh my God that hurts!" Penny screamed, but Quin watched carefully and she did not move her hands or her feet. 'Very good', he thought to himself. Quin then removed Cecily's ministrations but struck Janet instead. "Three!" Janet called out. Quin then removed Cecily again, counted a few heartbeats, then moved her back onto Penny's ass without striking her. Then he pulled Cecily off and ran his finger over one of the stripes across Penny's backside. Quin could hear Penny inhale but she didn't call out. Quin took the opportunity to run a finger down Penny's ass crack and across her sex and clit, then back up, between her pussy lips and into her pussy. She was soaking wet. Penny gave a little gasp when he did this but otherwise remained still. With one hand still in Penny's pussy, he idly slapped the crop down on Janet. "Four!" Janet called out. Quin started sawing two fingers in and out of Penny's pussy. With his other hand, he ground Cecily's face into Penny's ass. Then he struck Janet again, while flicking Penny's clit with his thumb. "Five!" Janet called out. Quin them removed his hand and Cecily's face, silently counted to 30, re-attacked Penny's ass and pussy, pulled them off for another 30 seconds. He kept this up for about eight minutes. He knew what this was like for Penny. She had one painful stroke left. Each time the stimulation was removed, there was the double-barreled pang of loss and dread; loss of the stimulating fingers and tongue and the dread of another painful smack on the ass. Each time she waited for the pain and relived the previous blows. Each time she felt instead, after a while, the welcome kiss upon her anus and the probing tongue and fingers. After the eighth time Quin repeated this treatment, Penny's muscles started contracting and although she was fighting hard not to break form, she was still thrashing slightly. Her breathing was ragged. Impressed that Penny could climax during a whipping (albeit with more rimming than blows), Quin rubbed more vigorously on her clit and gently tapped Cecily on the ass and whispered "More" to the slave. Cecily worked even harder on Penny's ass. Soon Penny was obviously climaxing. Quin kept up the stimulation for about a minute. Then he pulled Cecily's mouth off Penny's asshole and administered the last blow as hard as he could. "Six!" Penny squeaked. "Ow!" Janet immediately spun around and crawled two steps to kiss the crop still in Quin's hand but Quin ignored her for the moment. "Very good, Penny" Quin said. "You were terrific! You have made me very excited now. I would like to have sex with you; if you would like that, turn over onto your back." Quin didn't wait for an answer and started to disrobe. Penny was still very turned on from everything... being coerced into stripping, lying down with her ass in the air, the whipping, Cecily rimming her and Quin finger fucking her. This was literally the sexiest thing that had ever happened to her and she was floating on a cloud of pent-up lust and desire. Without hesitation, she flipped onto her back and spread her legs wide apart. Quin slipped a condom onto his erection and then lowered himself onto her. Penny was almost a virgin. She had had sex exactly twice before. The first time was with a cute boy after a party in high school. The boy was a little drunk but very horny. While walking her home, they detoured into someone's yard and started necking. The night was warm and Penny was wearing a skirt and soon the boy's hands were rubbing her sex through her panties, then under her panties. A few minutes later, he pulled down her panties, bent her over a low fence, and started fucking her. He only lasted a minute before pulling out and cumming all over her ass. He then left without a word. The whole episode made Penny feel dirty, although she had replayed it endlessly while masturbating over the years. Penny's second time was with her prom date, a slightly homely boy. She had made sure he had protection and they had clumsily "done it" after the prom but it was entirely unsatisfactory. Penny had gained even more weight after high school and there hadn't been any other men. So, this time was like a dream. She was extremely turned on from the orgasm and also from the whipping. She basked in his words 'You were terrific!' and 'You have made me very excited'. Quin's weight her felt like the greatest thing ever, until he put his member inside her and THAT seemed like the greatest thing ever. She felt like he was filling a void in her. Then he started pounding away at her pussy. He fucked her vigorously for about 10 minutes before he gripped her even more tightly and bent down and bit her neck gently. This sent her over the edge and she climaxed again while he fucked her with wild abandon and then came himself. He lay on top of her and waited for his racing heart to slow down. "Squeeze my cock," he ordered her and she tried to do so. "Very good," he said. "Each time I squeeze you, you squeeze me like that" Then he squeezed her shoulder and she squeezed him. Then Quin pulled her hands over he head and squeezed her wrist; she squeezed him. He kissed her mouth and while he did, he gently squeezed her nipple. She squeezed his cock again, although her pussy muscles were getting tired. Rolling off her at last, he laid on his back. "Penny, I'd like you to watch this," he said and he pulled her head onto his belly, facing his dick. It was almost completely flaccid now, and the full condom hung down. "Cecily, remove my condom and dispose of it for me. Janet, clean me off" Quin ordered. Cecily pinched off the condom and slipped it off. She then squeezed all the cum out of the condom into her mouth and immediately swallowed the cum. Then she turned the condom inside out and licked it carefully clean. Once she had carefully cleaned the condom of all of her Master's cum, she threw it away. Janet, meanwhile, was licking her Master's cock like a cat cleaning her kitten. Once Janet had cleaned the cum and pussy juice off his member, she licked around his member, cleaning Penny's pussy juices off him, including off his public hair. She kept licking until she was sure that he was totally clean. Then she went to kneel next to Cecily. Rising, Quin helped Penny to her feet and over to the table. "If you please, it is actually against the rules for your to wear clothes in my presence. You may get dressed before you leave here." He got dressed quickly. "I wish I could stay longer, but duty calls... I had a wonderful evening. I would love it if you would submit to me so we could do this all the time. I know if would make Janet very happy as well." Quin grinned a charming smile. Penny was a bit lost, such a strange offer but she felt like she'd just been asked to the prom by the handsomest boy in the class. He drew her up from her chair and kissed her hard for what seemed to Penny to be a long time before he left without another word, bringing Cecily with him. Janet came and sat down next to Penny and the two hugged. Penny said, "They're gone now, let's get dressed." "Oh no, no, no!" Janet looked horrified, "We are not permitted to dress until it is time to go. But we can go at any time. Master Quin left me here to talk to you. What do you think of Him?" "Oh, it was strange at first but he's cute! And nice, except for that beating." "Master is the kindest man I've ever been with or known. Even when I am bound, I never fear that he will ever really hurt me. In fact, I feel safest when I am with Him. I know the whippings are painful, and he is firm, but it's right what he said... I've never known him to strike a slave without reason. And six lashes! ... you have no idea how lenient he was being! Cecily or I would have had a dozen each night for a week if we were ever caught in such a lie to him!" Penny thought about this. Quin did seem kind in a way, but it was hard to reconcile that with her throbbing ass. "Did you enjoy Master fucking you?" Janet asked and Penny blushed. "I can tell from your face that you did! Well, I wish you would come join us and you would have lots of sex with Master. You would have to submit yourself to Him and be His slave, but I love being His slave. I was never this happy before. The only thing that I miss about my old life is being your friend. But if you came to Him, we would be together all the time. You and I would share everything and I would be so happy!" "What is it like being a slave?" Penny asked. 'I cannot believe I am asking that question!' she thought to herself. "Well, Master owns three slaves, me and Cecily and Dawn. So, there are three of us to carry out our duties. We all live with Master in The House. Oh Penny! You will not believe The House! It's more of a mansion than a house, it's like something you see on TV, I love just being there." "Anyway," Janet continued. "We do what he wants. I follow all of Master's rules and I never have to worry about anything. I used to worry all the time, but now I have no stress. You have no idea how good that feels! What a weight lifted off my shoulders" Janet stood up and turned around, like a model. "And look at me! I feel better about myself than I ever have.. Ever! All Master's slaves are usually naked in The House and in His car... like you saw Cecily. Well, before I would have died of embarrassment but now it's sexy. I love showing off my new body. I love it when he looks at me. To be honest, I love it when he shows me off to other people, even strangers." "What do you mean, 'shows you off to strangers'?!" "Oh, it's fun. About once a month, Master throws a fetish ball. All his friends come and they bring their slaves. All the slaves pitch in to do the work, like cook and serve food... And we also entertain; I do a lot of dancing, or sometimes He'll declare an oil wrestling competition and us slaves will wrestle nude in a vat filled with cooking oil. That's a lot of fun, but you really have to scrub afterward to get all the oil off. Generally, all the slaves are on display during these balls. And, I know that sounds weird, but I LOVE the balls. They are so much fun!" "Do you.. I mean... you're a sex slave, right? What ..." Penny was blushing. She didn't know how to ask what she wanted to know. "So, I have sex!" Janet said with a smile, "Mmmm, usually, lot's of sex. Almost always it's what we call 'in-house' meaning Master or His slaves or Master's guest." "What about... I thought that old guy was raping you, until..." "Oh yes, Master Quin allows that when we come here as a favor. In fact, we slaves cannot refuse any reasonable request of Master's guests and I guess Old Tom counts under that rule." Penny thought about this for a minute. "But Cecily... I didn't know you... well, I mean, it's not bad if you like other girls, but..." "Well, Master usually fucks me a few times a week. but do the math: one Master and three slaves... I have sex with my sister slaves more often than Master Quin, but I don't feel like I am a lesbian, or even bisexual. Whatever Master commands, I have to do; it's part of the bargain that makes the sexy, stress-free me that you see today!" Janet giggled. "And, I have to admit, when Master commands me to have sex with a woman, I get turned on. I think I'm a little addicted to girl orgasms! Oh my God, you have no idea how good it feels to have a woman go down on you! So soft... gentle... and a girl knows how to wind another girl up and make her pop." Janet blushed. "I would never, ah, 'kiss a girl' if Master didn't command it, but I'm not embarrassed to say that I am eager when he does command it. The other thing is: He's usually watching and, I love performing for Him." Janet looked at Penny and saw her nipples were erect. She decided that the time was right. "Ah, this is a little embarrassing, but Master ordered me to try to seduce you and make you cum... and, as I just said, I don't hesitate when ordered... this isn't something I mind doing." Janet wore a guilty smile. "He wants you to know what you're getting into, but since you're not His slave, he can't order you to do anything that you don't want to do." Janet started caressing Penny's thigh, "For what it's worth, I think it's a good idea to try it and see if you like it. And..." Janet started caressing Penny's stomach, "if you don't mind, it would make me happy to fulfill Master's order." Penny didn't say anything, but her nipples seemed to get harder and she closed her eyes. Janet leaned over and started kissing her friend's neck, then her shoulders and above her breasts. Then she kissed and sucked on Penny's nipples. Janet pulled Penny's arms over her head, "Often you'll have sex in this position." Janet kissed Penny's elbows, then ran kisses down her arms and across her breasts. Then she kissed down Penny's stomach to her thighs. Janet pulled Penny's hips, so that her pussy was on the edge of the seat and she pushed Penny's legs wide open. Then Janet kissed her hips and her thighs and legs down to her toes. Then Janet began kissing random places on Penny's body while her fingers lightly caressed Penny's labia and pubic area. Finally, Janet ran wet, sucking kisses down Penny's thigh to her pussy and began to kiss Penny's pussy. She ran her tongue over Penny's labia and the skin between her pussy and her anus and Janet even kissed Penny's asshole. Janet then concentrated on Penny's pussy and worked hard to make her cum. It only took about five minutes for Penny's cries to grow from "yes, yes, oh yes" to "YES! YESSS! OH GOD YES! DON'T YOU DARE... YESSS! OHHHH! DON'T STOP!" and trying to pull Janet's head against her crotch to drive Janet's tongue deeper into her pussy. A moment later she came hard and fairly loudly. She didn't release Janet's head for a few more minutes. "Oh my God!" Penny said. She still had one hand on Janet's head, holding her face in her crotch. Panting, Penny asked Janet, "Am I a guest like Old Tom?" Janet's voice was slightly muffled, "I gesh sho." "Then I command you to do that again," Penny said happily, "but this time, I want your tongue up my ass." Janet thought about this for a fraction of a second and decided that Penny was absolutely right and it was her duty to fulfill any reasonable request - and, for a slave girl, rimming your friend's asshole and then licking her to another orgasm was a very reasonable request. She got to work. Penny wrung four orgasms out of Janet over more than an hour. At that point, she'd had more sex with Janet than anyone on the planet. Penny would have made Janet do more, after all, when is the next time she might have this golden opportunity? But Janet's tongue was clearly flagging; it had taken her almost 20 minutes to drive Penny to her fifth climax. Drunk with pleasure, Penny seriously considered whether she should try to kiss Janet's pussy. But, she figured that she'd get lots of practice doing that soon. But Janet looked so forlorn and worn out that Penny started fingering Janet's pussy, which was extremely wet. Soon Penny was driving her most of her hand into Janet's pussy and strumming Janet's clit with her thumb. As Janet got closer to release, she didn't yell, she hissed and moaned softly and writhed. Penny had never watched another woman climax and she was fascinated how Janet's body moved and how erect her nipples were. Gently, Janet pushed Penny to the floor and straddled her face "Kiss it!" Janet kissed. Tentatively, Penny stuck her tongue out. The taste was not unpleasant. Janet was rubbing her pussy against Penny's face, especially her clit against Penny's chin. Penny shifted her mouth to catch Janet's clit and sucked hard, the way Janet had sucked her. Janet's body tensed and her breathing became ragged and she made a low, sweet moan. Her climax continued for over a minute. Then she leaned down and licked Penny's face clean. "Come to Master's house with me tomorrow." Janet murmured in Penny's ear. "Submit yourself to him and we can do this all the time. I miss you Penny... Promise me that you will come Home with me tomorrow night." "Ok" Penny agreed with a guilty smile. She would do it. She would be a sex slave and lose weight and fuck Quin whenever she could and lick girl's pussies the rest of the time.

Blackshaft - 2-06 - Pride (Adults Only. Copyright@Rama. 2013) Eglin City. Night. He had picked the lock of the door and stepped out into windy rooftop of the tower block. The moon was clear giving Vern Kobe a good, clear vision of the city. His black skin shone as he took the long sight from the satchel he had put over his shoulder. The wind felt cold as the black man walked to the east side of the roof and surveyed the large area of park far below. He hunched down and looked across to the building he'd come to look at, then lifted the sight to his eye. Turning the zoom he snorted as he found the apartment he was looking for. "Not so safe, motherfucker." he said to the air. The Storme Building. Penthouse. Night. Family, he thought. That's what you can't plan for. Howard Storme was trying to take his mind off yet another article in those hated gossip magazines. The business tycoon had spent too many years building this little empire to let his damn daughter wreck the brand. He looked across the city to the lit-up facade of the Lime Building. The ungrateful little cow wasn't answering her cell. Was she in there tonight, he wondered. According to the scandal mags she was spending a lot of time there recently. A football player one night, a baseball player another night, another big-name the next night... All of them black. Was she going through every black star in the city? And why there, in HIS building? Didn't she know what the word loyalty meant? "Tiffany, Tiffany, Tiffany..." he muttered and turned away from the window. The cream and ivory furniture filled the room. Some of it was painted gold to match the edgings of the room and the ornate displays that were made up of the golden ornaments. One table held a large, gold, curved clock. In a couple of the corners stood gold statues. The decor in the apartments other rooms was along the same lines. It was upfront and honest to Howard Storme. It showed who had the money and so who had the power. Howard Fucking Storme. He had helped build this city. Storme Industries had shaped how this city was today. And Storme Industries was Howard Storme. If it had his name on it, it would be a success. This city owed him. Hell, the country owed him. He was the American Dream. Howard Storme had made the business what it was. He had made careers and broke them. Never fuck with the Howard, was something he would tell people. It was an ethos he had spoken about in his presentations and business lectures. Don't take no for an answer and never let anyone fuck with you. That disrespectful little asshole from that third-rate TV network on the east coast would learn that when the lawyers were through with him. Every night he'd been calling a liar and questioning his `true' wealth. Little shitbag would learn.... Corrine Allen's Apartment. Night. Kacey watched the deep, passionate kiss between Corrine and Danielle Holmes. She watched as their hands held each other close, the women's bodies pressing together. The young woman felt a thrill deep down inside her. Danielle had taken her out three times to various places. Each time they had simply been two women out for a drink. There had been some advances from males but every time she saw a man looking over she stopped looking. Finally Danielle had come right out with it. "As men go they weren't bad." the black woman had told her. "Nothing wrong with a little nameless fun." Kacey had told her she was just nervous. After that the woman had simply smiled and then took Kacey home. "So miss me?" Corrine asked as Danielle was taking her cases into the main bedroom. Kacey looked at the older woman. "Yeah." "What's this about you trying to drag my girlfriend around the bars?" "I never!" Kacey replied. "She was the..." Corrine laughed as she threw her coat on one of the couches. "I know. But it would be good to loosen up a bit." She dropped her voice. "You got a chance at a life now. Take it." she told Kacey. "Get drunk. Get laid. Be young." "Get laid?" Kacey asked incredulously. "I'm not your mother." Corrine smiled and hugged Kacey, putting her mouth to her ear. "Forget Alison. Forget all that vigilante crap." Corrine kissed Kacey on the cheek and stepped back. "I missed you too." Danielle said from the bedroom door. Kacey watched as Corrine looked at her black lover and saw the change in her face. There was a lust there. "I'll bet." Corrine smiled and winked at Kacey. She leaned towards the young woman. "Could you..." she whispered then smiled. Kacey got the message. She headed into her room and came out with her coat. "I'll go out." she smiled. As she walked out the door, Kacey saw Corrine being led into the bedroom. She stared at the door after closing it. She could picture them kissing and touching. She could see them fucking in her mind. Those full white lips around Danielle's black pussy. She knew about the sex toys that were kept in the drawer under the bed and could picture that big, black dildo being stuffed into the wet pussy lips.... Kacey forced herself to turn and walk away... * Kacey had gone to a movie. She couldn't remember what it was about all she could remember was pushing a hand down the front of her jeans and making herself cum as she thought of Danielle and Corrine at home. Getting back she saw the women sitting on the couch, both wearing robes, their hair wet, as they ate a chinese meal that had been delivered. "Hey, kiddo." Danielle called over as Kacey walked in. "We kept you some." "Nice time?" Corrine asked. "Went to the movies." Kacey replied throwing her coat off and picking up her share of the chinese meal. "What'd you see?" Danielle said. "Oh, some action thing." "Sounded good," Corrine said with a raised eyebrow. Kacey just shrugged and saw Corrine's hand resting on Danelle's firm, dark thigh. "Look, it was long trip," she continued. "I'm going to bed..." A look passed between Corrine and Danielle. "I'm feeling a little tired again myself." Danielle said as Corrine stood up. "Might join you." As the two women headed back into the bedroom, Kacey felt alone. She put the TV on and watched the news as she ate. All the time she couldn't get the thoughts of the sex going on behind that door out of her head. After an hour she went into her room and looked through the growing collection of DVDs she was gathering. All of it hot, naked lesbian porn.... Lying back she undid her jeans and found the small, quiet vibrator she had bought. As she watched a blonde being kissed by two other women, both wearing strap-on dildos, she put the small vibrator between her legs and gently made herself cum. The blonde straddled one of them and lowered herself down the hard rubber cock, then began riding it. As the blonde kissed the woman under her Kacey watched the third woman, a brunette, come up behind her. She had seen this one so many times now but loved the expression on the blonde's face as the second cock entered her ass. She wondered what it was like to feel those two cocks inside at once.... Warehouse. Office. Night. Once upon a time he had been a somebody. He had known people. He had been a rising name in the city's mental health services. The legal firms or the city would call on him to examine their clients for the sake of society. Professor Harlem Jonas had been the go-to guy to deal with the crazies. Just one word and he could put someone away for good. He had seen those psychiatrists who courted the media and wrote their books about healing the world or would do their `celebrity' clinics shows and found them disgusting. They were wasting their talent and education. Instead of stroking the egos of those pompous hollywood whores they should be healing the world around them. But the general public seemed to disagree. Harlem had written one book - The Mind: Intelligence Unleashed. After all those idiotic publishers had turned it down he had tried self-publishing. Two thousand copies had sat unsold despite his every attempt to sell them. Book fairs, e-sites on the web, not one copy had gone. The public had decided. And it had decided it was made up of idiots who wanted books about Z-list celebrities or sad little serial killers. In a way it was the public who had sent him on his path in life. During the case of Marlon Dukes, the `Spring-Break Slasher' who he had diagnosed and recommmended a life-long treatment behind bars to Dukes own lawyers, he found out that `famous' TV psychiatrist, Alan Toulson, was also acting on the lawyers instructions. Only he had said he could `cure' Marlon Dukes. And being a famous TV shrink, the lawyers had went with his advice. Harlem had watched that fraud work his magic in court and, sure enough, Marlon Dukes was sent to a special facility where Doctor Toulson would `cure' him. And all in front of the TV cameras. Harlem knew it would end well and it didn't. One day the cameras were turned on and there was the good doctor's body sitting behind his desk while his head was on the shelf among the TV awards on a shelf in his office. Marlon Dukes was arrested and accused then the police came arrested Harlem himself. He protested in court and denied all the charges. he denied ever visiting the place. The fact they had security footage that seemed to show him on the grounds and fingerprints on various bottles and needles didn't mean he had killed the fraud. He sat and listened to the three other so-called psychiatrists who declared him mentally unsound and could only shake his head as they tried to claim he had another side to his personality. An ego-driven side that was meant to be more sociopathic. As he heard a jury of his lessers announce him guilty he saw the truth. Professor Harlem Jonas was only true intellectual. He was a single glittering truth in a sea of dullards and idiots and morons. It was an necessary act to escape from the very same high-security hospital he had sent so many true sociopaths and psychopaths to. It was vital act of social necessity that he start removing those same idiots who had been responsible for trying to imprison him. They had merely been scared of the true sight of intellectual superiority in him. He saw that fear as he hunted them down. One-by-one. Every single one of them were no smarter than a lab rat when he threw them into his little tests. He saw that fear and realised that he was the true nightmare. He found the knight's helmet in a shop that belong to one such little rat he tested. As he put on the make-shift knight outfit and looked in the mirror he saw the image he was looking for. The dark blue cape and black plastic body suit looked just right in the shadows. The Nightlord had been born. That was also the night he met them. The Queen and the Princess. Harlem... No, Nightlord had escaped that night. But with a new understanding. Over the next few years had been caught, that was inevitable but that was the cost of science. The world just didn't understand yet. He met those very individuals he had been so judgmental on and had to admit there was a purity to what they did. The one called Smiler in particular. No matter what they tried Smiler never changed. Then they all started dying. All the pure ones. Even Smiler was killed. Someone had finally understood the rules. Nightlord had taken his chance and escaped yet again but this time he disguised him in his skin. The helmet was gone. The thin face with deep intelligent eyes got him through life. The killings of those `villains' had made a change in the city. Even the Queen was appearing less. Life was just that. Life. He found himself using his intelligence to make his way back into the criminal gangs. Only as a chemist he could help others until he had placed himself in the right position and then come out and declare himself the new king of crime. Nightlord would be triumphant. Opening his eyes, Harlem looked at the office door. It had been a long day testing the newest batch of party drugs. All nice and legal but still with that kick that would bring them back wanting more. He had chosen to sleep in the office on a cot. Or had until some noise had woken him up. Harlem got up and crept towards the door. There were guards around the building. He opened the door and peered out. Blinking he took in the sight. Seven bodies, the guards, all tied to chairs. Their faces were slashed into bloody grins. All the way from ear to ear... "Was wondering were you where." Smiler said, walking to one of the tied bodies. He dragged it next to another of the dead guards. "Be a chum and help me put them in a circle, would you?." * "Gang hit?" the uniformed cop next to Commissioner Gregg suggested. She had came down specially when she heard about the details. Forensic teams had swept through the building already but she and every other cop knew this area was another of places that the growing criminal gangs were taking over. She looked at the plastic sheeting that was draped around the centre of the warehouse. The tables with drug-making equipment was visible through it. "No." she said quietly. The cop looked at her. The badge said their name was Mendez. He looked barely old enough to shave. She looked at the slashed grins on the faces. "Not a gang hit." she said, feeling sick to the stomach. She had ordered a departmental restriction on the news of Smiler's return. But there was no way she could keep that in place. She had heard the news was already the worst kept secret in the department. "It's ready, Commissioner!" a forensic officer called over. She turned away from the gruesome scene and headed to one of the desks where a laptop had been set up. Next to it the label that had been left tied to the disc was in a plastic bag. Three words, that was all. `PLAY ME, ALICE'. Gregg nodded. The screen came to life. There was that grinning maniac again. "Now I want to make a complaint, Commish." Smiler said from the screen. "I had reported a missing person and you have done nothing about it." Jane Gregg was aware of the cops gathering around her. "Nothing! What kind of service is that for the good taxpayers? Now you know who I'm meaning. Old Scarlett Queenie herself. I know everyone needs a vacation but it's been over a year now. Seven days and there'll be another little present for you. Byeeeeee...." The screen went blank. "Commissioner?" one of the cops asked. Jane Gregg felt the sickness get worse. "Commissioner, I'd heard... I thought he was dead?" another cop said. "He's not." she told them. "Commissioner?" another cop said and Gregg turned to the woman who was running into the building. "These have started to appear." she added and handed Gregg the flyer. Beach Mansion. Front Room. Day. Smiler sat on the antique chair and clapped his hand together as the news told him just what he wanted to hear. "...city awoke to the sight of flyers and posters on walls and windows." the blonde bimbo reading the autocue said. "The posters are asking for the return of Scarlett Queen with the offer of a three million dollar reward. It has been discovered the number is in fact the phone number of the Mayor. We have to point out that the number has now been changed after the system had crashed when it was flooded with calls." "Just doing my civic duty, baby!" Smiler declared as he opened another can of beer. Corrine Allen's Apartment. Kacey's room. Day. "So far, there has been no comment from either the Mayor's office nor the Police Department, especially in relation to the smiling symbol that apparently signs the posters. A symbol that was used exclusively by the notorious killer, Smiler." Kacey could only blink as she watched the news. Her mind was full of questions. He was dead. The Smiler was dead. She had seen his body. He couldn't be alive. She was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and laughter filling the hallway. Corrine was back from her shopping trip. Corrine and Danielle. She stopped herself from saying anything and snapped up the TV remote then switched it off as the two women entered the living area. Kacey looked at Corrine, so filled with happiness as she kissed Danielle again. She had been doing that a lot recently. Kacey saw the little glances and touches they gave each other. Any excuse led them to go into the bedroom where Kacey would just stare at the wall and imagine what was going on. She could see them kissing and rubbing, their heaving, panting bodies together. The old instinct was still in her though. She felt the need to... To do what? Put on a dumb costume and chase a ghost. It was probably just a stupid joke. Yeah, just a dumb, stupid joke. Kacey put a breath and stepped into the main room of the apartment. "Hi." she said and saw the women had their arms around each other. Corrine's hands were cupping Danielle's ass. "Hi, babe." Corrine smiled. "Find any good deals?" Kacey asked and watched as the two grown women fell into giggles. "Oh, yeah." Danielle told her. They were like schoolgirls, Kacey thought. Corrine had seemed to change since she had got back from her business trip. There was a youngness to her. She was still the mature business woman-slash-CEO but she seemed like a teenage girl when she was with Danielle. Suddenly Corrine whispered to Danielle and looked at her expectantly. Danielle pulled away from Corrine and took her hand then led her towards the bedroom. Corrine made sure she picked up one of the bags from the pile that had been dumped on the floor. As the door closed and Kacey heard the giggles from the other side she knew she should get her coat and go out. That would be the decent thing. She had seen the name on the bag. `VALENTINES'. One of the biggest chains of `adult' stores in the country. Lingerie and marital aids. Sex toys. Kacey knew she should go out. But instead drifted back into her room and looked at the separating wall between her bedroom and theirs. Stepping back she sat on the bed and undid the buttons of her jeans. Pushing her hand down the front of her panties, Kacey moaned as she thought of what they were doing in there. Kissing, touching. Undressing. Fucking. She lay back on one elbow and slipped a finger into herself.... Hotel room. Evening. It was so fucking easy these days, he thought as Verne Kobe buried his hard, black cock deep into the white woman he'd picked up in corner bar an hours ago. They were all so fucking easy these days. He couldn't remember her name but didn't care. The 30-something bitch would be gone in another hour or two. There was a wedding ring on her finger so she'd go somewhere. But she'd go with his cum inside her. She was on her back, her legs wrapped around his naked body as he held himself deep inside her. "Oh, oh, oh, god...." she gasped and he felt her hands grip his ass cheeks. She was pulling him into her. The married bitch was wanting it bad. He gripped her chstnut brown hair with both hands and looked her hard in the eye. "Say it." he told her. "Give it to me!" she demanded. Vern smiled and pulled back only to slam his cock forward again and again and again. "Say it!" he ordered. "Give it to me!" she told him. "GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE IT TO ME!" He slammed in one last time and felt his balls explode, forcing his cum deep into the bitch's womb. The woman cried out in pleasure and he felt her cunt flooding with juices as he filled her up, making sure he sent his cum in as deep as possible. Rolling off her her lay back, gasping as the woman just looked at him with a smile on her face. She rolled onto her side and gently cupped his balls and cock in her hand. She squeezed him gently. "Damn, woman!" he told her. "You on heat." "I love black men." she said softly. "Your husband know that?" "I'm divorcing the prick." He looked at her. "And?" "I love black men." she smiled. "This ain't the start of something sweet." he told her. "After you leave that's it." "I know." The woman kept massaging his cock and balls in her hand. The softness had been stopped and he felt himself getting hard again. "I don't care." "How many black men have you fucked?" he asked with a smile. She thought for a second. "Lots." "Lots," Vern repeated and shifted as he felt his cock growing nicely. Her fingers gripped the shaft, easing the skin back. "I got an idea." he grinned and pushed her head down. "Why don't you use that pretty mouth of yours to get me really hard again and then I'll fuck you again." "Oh, baby," the woman smiled then licked her lips. She slid down and moved between his legs where she placed her hands at the base of his stiff cock to hold it up then pushed her lips down the shaft. Vern moaned as he felt the warm wetness of her mouth and put his hands on the back of her head. "All the way," he told her as she started working her mouth up and down his shaft, filling the room with wet, slurping noises. The bitch was good at this, he thought. That was something he took these days. All the bitches loved a soldier boy. Plenty of women would spread their legs for a soldier boy. It was something he supposed. The army had shafted him and the rest of his company so he was shafting every bitch he could back. Especially the white ones. The sound of choking made him look down and he saw he was holding her head down hard. Her nose was crushed against his belly. His cock was pushing into her throat. Vern released her and watched as she shot up, gasping in air. "Oh, man." she said. "I thought--" "Shut up," he grinned and grabbed her head. He shoved her back down onto his cock, watching as she stuffed in hungrily into her mouth. He slowly started moving his hips up to meet her face. "That it." Vern smiled and wrapped her hair in his fingers then yanked her head back. "Now lie back and spread those legs again..... * The bitch was pure slut. Vern had unloaded his balls into her a third time before he told she had to go. She looked disappointed as put her clothes on ten left. She scribbled down her phone number and left it on the bedside cabinet. "Anytime, baby." she told him as she left the room. He picked up the paper with the number on it. Normally Vern would have binned the number but she had a slutty quality he thought might be worth going back to. A couple of times anyway. In the meantime he had business to deal with. Still naked, Vern got off the bed and went to the wardrobe. He opened it and got out the long case that was stored in there. Opening it, he glanced over the contents then closed and locked it again. It was time to go. He got dressed then left, making sure there was nothing left in the room that would identify him. Getting downstairs at the reception he paid in cash for the room and looked at the sweet looking asian girl behind the desk. Shame, he thought. Still, if he came back there might a shot at her. Big if though. If was successful the plan was to leave for good. Tiffany Storme's apartment. Hall. Evening. The phone rang. On the floor the shoes had been kicked all the way down the hall. The phone rang again. And again and again. It clicked straight through to messages after five rings. "Hi, this is Tiffany, I'm REALLY busy right now so leave message and I'll see you later." The phone clicked. "Tiffany, honey. This is your father. Pick up the phone.... Now.... I'm serious. I want to speak to you.... I NEED to you.... Jesus Christ, Tiffany!" * Tiffany Storme was in ecstasy as the phone clicked off. She was on all fours on her bed and sandwiched between two big , strong black men she and her friend Holly Davison. She felt the two thick cocks throb and pulse in her ass and cunt and smiled as she looked at the satisfied expression on Holly's face. Holly was sitting naked in the large wicker chair in the corner of the room. She watched as Holly slid a finger up her pussy and slowly fingered herself. "This rich bitch tight!" the black man in her ass said. "Fuck, yeah, bro!" the one in her cunt agreed. "This rich bitch want FUCKED!" she cried out. They just grinned and Tiffany cried out as both black cock were suddenly pushed deeper into her. She gripped the bed and looked into the eyes of the man under her. She felt a hand grab her hair and her head was pulled up. Tiffany found herself looking into the lust-filled eyes of Holly who pushed her fingers into Tiffany's mouth. Tiffany tasted the pussy juices on the fingers and sucked hard on them. She saw Holly smile then the fingers were pulled out and replaced by her hot lips. Tiffany returned the kiss from Holly and pushed her tongue against Holly's. The women pulled back and looked at each. There was lust in their eyes as Holly cupped and squeezed Tiffany's right breast. "I wanna lick the cum from your pussy..." Holly said, not taking her eyes from Tiffany's. "Mmmmm...." Tiffany smiled. "FUCK, YEAH!" Tiffany heard from behind her and felt the cock in her ass being drawn back. "UUUuuuhhh!" she groaned as the cock slammed back into her ass. As it drew back she felt the one in her cunt slam forward. Holly knelt on the bed in front of Tiffany and held her head in her hands. They didn't break off looking deep into each other's eyes as Tiffany felt both thick, black cocks pistoning into her fuckholes. They were oblivious to the grunts and groans and cheers of the two black studs pounding into Tiffany. * Rooftop. Evening. The wind was cutting as Kobe stepped out onto the rooftop. It was the best place for the job. He pulled the thick coat around him and headed to the side of the building that overlooked the park. He looked across the city park then at the last sign of the sun as it gently sank way. Soon it would be dark and just the right light for him. Kobe sighed and put the case down. He opened it and looked at the broken down rifle inside. It was time. * Tiffany Storme's apartment. Hall. Evening. Tiffany looked down and kissed the black man under her as Holly was whispering to the black stud pounding away in her ass. Suddenly she felt him pulling back until he popped out and looked up to see him moving round. The thick cock came round in front of her face. Fresh from her asshole. Tiffany looked up to him and saw the smile on the black man's face as he bobbed his cock in front of her. She felt a hand on the back of her head and saw Holly was pushing her towards it. All the time the cock in her cunt slid in and out, in and out. Nice and easy. His hands rested on her hips. The look on Holly's face said it silently. Do it. Do it... Tiffany Storme, rich little celebrity socialite, opened her mouth and took the big, black cock that had just been filling her ass into her mouth. Looking up again she saw the black man grabbing Holly by the hair and kissed her. As they kissed Holly just kept pushing Tiffany's head on. The black man's hand grabbed her hair and pulled her towards his cock. She felt the cock in her cunt thrusting in faster and clamped her lips around the cock in her mouth... * Rooftop. Evening. Slow your breathing, he told himself as he remembered his training. The rifle was long. It was a black market gun that had disappeared from a military delivery. It wasn't one of those weapons. Not those one. This one worked. Kobe knelt and peered through the long-distance scope. He zeroed in on the window and lowered his breathing, getting control. * The Storme Building. Penthouse. Evening. Howard Storme looked at the filthy gossip magazine again. This was the worst thing yet. He looked at the frame of the video that had been printed. Yup, that was his darling little princess. Dear sweet Tiffany. The girl who would take over from him. And there she was in a dirty little sex tape. Looking right in the fucking camera no less! This the last straw. First thing tomorrow he would see the lawyers and get the will changed. If she wanted to.... He grabbed his cell. He was still her father, god damn it. * Tiffany Storme's apartment. Hall. Evening. "YEAH!" Tiffany heard Holly's cry as the two big, black cocks were slamming into her now. the stud under had pulled out and was kneeling behind her having slapped his hands on her hips and pushed himself back into her cunt. The stud in front had her head in both hands and both men had started thrusting and pounding and ramming into her cunt and mouth again. The man had then grabbed her arms and pulled them back, leaving her knees the only support she had. Glancing to the side Tiffany could see Holly back in the chair, legs spread and fingering her furiously. The cocks felt so damn big inside her, forcing their way down her throat and up her cunt. "Fuck!" the stud behind her cried out, driving in again.... "Uuh, Yeah..." the stud ramming down her throat replied as he smashed his hips forward. The cock slammed over her tongue and back down her throat then stopped. He gripped her head holding his cock down her throat. "Fuck the bitch hard, bro!" he laughed. The phone started ringing again.... * Rooftop. Evening. Nice and easy, Kobe thought, feeling his heart calming down. The bastard was right there. Right there in the crosshairs of the rifle. Now adjust for wind and drop and control the breathing.... * Tiffany Storme's apartment. Hall. Evening. "This Tiffany Storme. I'm a bit busy right now," the answer machine said from the hall. "Message me after the beep." BOM! BOM! BOM! The headboard of the bed was banging against the wall as the black stud fucking Tiffany from behind upped his pace into her. The stud down her throat had grabbed her hair with one hand and had the other hand under her chin. He was sitting back and had hooked her mouth open so his large, dark balls had popped into her mouth as well. All the time the black man behind was fucking and hammering her down the cock in her throat. "Tiffany Storme, this is your father! You will speak to me!" "Not right now she won't!" the stud behind her laughed as he slammed forward, forcing her face to squash against the other black man's belly... "....uuuu....hhh....u...u....uuuuu.....!" Tiffany felt her face get hot as she started gagging on the cock that seemed to be filling every inch of her throat.... * The Storme Building. Penthouse. Evening. "TIffany!" he said, looking across the park that spread out below his penthouse. "I am your damn father and you will pick up this phone. I am sick of reading about your... TIFFANY!" Howard yelled as the tears welled up. "I am so glad your mother isn't alive to see you now...." * Tiffany Storme's apartment. Hall. Evening. "You haven't heard the last of this!" Howard Storme's voice yelled before ending the call. Tiffany had barely heard him, she was too busy trying to breath when the stud pulled away from her throat and she gasped in air. He slid off the bed and she watched him grab Holly. "Let's go, bitch." he smiled and pushed the blonde onto the bed. next to Tiffany. "On your back," the other one told Tiffany as he pulled out. Tiffany rolled onto her back obediently and both girl spread their legs for the black men. Both of the men sank their cocks deep into the two hot, wet cunts and began fucking again. The two white women looked at each other and held hands as they smiled. "Come on." Tiffany told the men as she wrapped her legs around her black stud. She locked her ankles together. ""Don't you fuckin' stop." Holly told her man, letting Tiffany's hand go and putting her arms around his neck. She pulled him down onto her. * Rooftop. Evening. "Now," he muttered as he breathed out and squeezed the trigger gently.... * Tiffany Storme's apartment. Hall. Evening. The women kissed the black men hungrily as they fucked. They looked deep into their eyes. They were gasping as they were gettign closer to climax.... * The Storme Building. Penthouse. Evening. The glass seemed to explode in front of him making Howard jump back and rolled over the leather couch. Landing he looked over the back of the couch and saw the glass had held but for a single bullet hole in the centre of the web of fractured glass. Suddenly two more shots hit the glass in close proximity punching a larger hole through the toughened glass. "Shit!" Howard cried out and scrambled away to the side of the room. He grabbed the penthouse phone and hit the zero button. "Security!" he yelled looking back at the fractured glass. "SECURITY!!!" * Tiffany Storme's apartment. Hall. Evening. "Uuuuhhh..." Tiffany was gasping sharply as the black man slowed down his thrusting, going good and deep inside her. "Jesus!" Holly cried out beside her and Tiffany looked over to see the blonde in the throes of orgasm as the black man kept thrusting into her. He suddenly slammed forward and arched his back. "Aaahhhhh!!" he gasped and Tiffany knew Holly was being filled with hot, thick cum. She turned back to her stud and took his face in her hands. "Make me cum!" she demanded.... * Rooftop. Evening. How... Kobe looked up in surprise. He'd had the son of a bitch dead! That bullet should have.... He looked back through the scope. There was something wrong with what he saw. Details were just off. Furniture around the holes in the window seemed to be in the wrong place. Just... "Fucker!" Kobe spat as he recognised the glass. The glass was a special security glass that made things look it was just off to the side of where it actually was. "Bastard." he said as the sound of sirens could heard from across the other side of the park. He got up and quickly started to break the gun down. It was time to go. * Tiffany Storme's apartment. Hall. Evening. "Uuh! ...Uuh! ...Uuh!...Uuh!" The pleasure exploded throughout her whole body and Tiffany clung onto him as he continued rocking into her. As she came she suddenly felt the hot rush of thick cum explode into her own pussy. She slapped her hands onto his ass and pushed them forward. It felt so fucking good...! As the foursome lay there panting and getting their breath, Tiffany and Holly looked at each other. Holly smiled. "Swap?" she asked. Tiffany smiled. The night was still young. She caressed the ass of the black man going soft inside her then stroked the firm shoulder of the man on top of Holly. "Swap." she said.... END OF PART ONE.

Blackshaft - 1-05 - Lines part 4 - Season Finale A revenge plot is stopped. A grateful woman is saved. And an enemy is dealt with. St Ignatious. Principle's Office. Day. Susan Corralli looking at the desk and couldn't get the picture out of her head; Caroline Wyatt's legs spread wide as that black... teacher was... She could picture his bare buttocks as they thrust. Then there were the sounds. The deep, gutteral sounds. They thought they were being quiet but they were grunting like animals. Animals aren't quiet. As Miss... No, as the WHORE defiled this office and spat on everything that was right and had been built up over the years. Susan was NOT racist. But there were limits. Being friends is fine, being work colleagues as well, but what sh had seen and heard happening in this office, on this desk...? No. The whore was not born black, her mother was obviously not born black, her father was not born black. She could hear the treacherous sounds from the so-called principle in her head as she stood there. "Okay," Caroline Wyatt said. "Two weeks, not a problem." Susan looked at the white traitor behind the desk. She even looked different now. Wyatt wore her hair down and Susan noticed the cleavage on show now. The woman was dressing sluttier. Her body language was looser as well as her language with the odd profanity slipping in. She had noticed how Caroline Wyatt was letting things go. The students' language as well was looser. And in front of the Principle who refused to acknowledge it. It had happened again this morning as she followed Wyatt coming in. Some of the supposed young ladies were talking about sex and using words they shouldn't have. Wyatt simply smiled and walked straight passed them. It was almost like she was supporting them when she smiled. The thought made her feel sick. "I'll see about getting a temp." Susan said. Caroline Wyatt sat back. "Don't worry about it. It's a good chance to give some of the girls some work experience." Susan swallowed, horrified by what they might see or hear. "I really think--" "Don't worry, the place'll still be here when you get back." Caroline smiled. "We'll try not to destroy it too much. So go. Enjoy your vacation." `Try not to destroy it too much,' she heard and Susan felt like screaming it was too late but that would have made the slutty whore suspicious. She needed to get away from here and tell people. Tell the trust who helped fund this place what was happening. Susan slowly forced a smile on her face. "Okay." she said. "Thanks." Caroline leant her elbows on the desk and smiled again. "You're young." she said. "Have fun. get drunk, get laid. To quote the song `Enjoy Yourself, it later than you think'!" "Yes... Miss Wyatt." Susan said, forcing each word out. "In fact, it near the end of the term." Caroline added. "We're just kicking our heels right now. So when you finish today, just start it tomorrow and take an extra week." "An extra week?" Susan asked. "An extra week. Don't say I'm not good to you." "Thank you." the secretary said flatly. "Oh, and could you update the files on Isabella Brunelli. She's left us." "Left us?" "Apparently there was some family trouble. They've moved back to Sicily. And when you get back to your desk, could you give Mr Jameson a call. I'd like to see him." Susan felt the sick feeling return as she saw the slight smile on Caroline Wyatt's face. She also noticed the whore's breathing seeming increase at the mention of his name. "Yes, Miss Wyatt." she said and walked back to her desk. She put the call out, feeling ill at mentioning his name, and updated the Brunelli file. Then waited with a sense of dread. She saw the door open and he walked in. The fucking nigger had an attitude in his walk as he came in. He pointed to the door of the principle's office and she nodded with a fake smile. Just keep up the act, Susan told herself as he pushed the door open and stood there. The smile on his face was wide. She could say it then. FUCKING. NIGGER. With the FUCKING WHORE. Susan Corralli let the false smile drop as she watched the FUCKING NIGGER step inside and slowly close the door.... * Two weeks later. Howard Poulson's Apartment. Kitchen. Evening. "The case is dead." Detective Howard Poulson said into the cell phone as he folded the slice of buttered bread over. "Open but effectively dead. We can't find them. Any of them." "I suppose they must have run." IronRod said from the other end. "I suppose." Poulson said, sniffing at the simmering sauce in the pot on the stove. "Are we ever going to find them?" the detective asked, dropping some more basil leaves in. "One of life's great questions. Who knows?" Poulson looked at the newspaper. The headline simply read; TEFLON TESINO KILLED. Two weeks ago. Apartment on Millar Way. Morning. The door crashed open, the lock finally smashing out of the wood of the frame. Police officers in body armour poured through. "POLICE!" the lead officer yelled. He flattened himself against the wall, keeping the semi-automatic rifle trained ahead of him as more armed officers started sweeping through the apartment. "Clear!" one called out. "ARMED POLICE!" Another door crashes open. "Clear!" "Clear!" Yet another is smashed open. "ARMED POLICE!" "Clear!" Detective Howard Poulson gripped his handgun as he listened to the repeated calls of `clear' while he stood waiting. He looked over to the huddled figures of the commander of the SWAT unit and the Commissioner as they were looking over a map of the building. "There's no-one in there." an officer in body armour said walking out of the apartment. "Nothing." he added. "Boss?" Poulson called over to the Commissioner who was looking over. "Your call." Commissioner Jane Greggs said. "Okay," Poulson holstered his weapon and walked into the apartment past the now relaxed armed officers. He whistled as he saw the place. Spacious, with a panoramic view of the city. The furniture was cream and white and looked expensive. As did the pictures on the walls, all original paintings or numbered, signed prints. "I thought these assholes were college kids?" he said amazed. "That's what their ages say." Commissioner Gregg said from behind him. "You sure we got the right place?" she asked. "Cos if you're information is wrong, you're pay'll be getting reduced for the next twenty years." "It's correct." Poulson said. "Seven different sources pin-point this place." "And it's owned by Carlo Bructanni?" "It's the address he gave the last three times he was arrested. The place legally belongs to Masimo Brunelli." Gregg shook her head. "Brunelli? And the Bructannis?" "The rest of the familes are going to be pissed." Commissioner Jane Gregg could only smile as she thought of the chance she finally had. All the years the five familes had been running crime in the city and she could only watch as suspects walked from courts or witnesses suddenly forget their own names never mind statements. This might be the perfect chance. "Tear it apart," she said. "All of it." All she needed was one little thing that could tear them apart. The bank robberies had done plenty of damage by removing their cash resources. There had even been incidents were mob enforcers had gone to collect `insurance' only to be given their own treatment. "FIND ME SOMETHING!" she yelled to the officers as they paired off into separate rooms. Two weeks later. Howard Poulson's Apartment. Kitchen. Evening. "Lot of bodies have been turning up." he said. "Have they?" IronRod replied flatly. Poulson could swear he could hear the grin. "I've been kind of busy." "Not catching up on the news?" "Nah." Two weeks ago. Apartment on Millar Way. Morning. "Detective!" Poulson stopped going through the drawer in the walk-in wardrobe and went through to where the voice had called from. The bedroom was as plush and rich-looking as the rest of the apartment. The mob like to show off the money, he thought. "You found something?" he said walking up to the young uniformed officer who called him. The officer stepped back and Poulson smiled as he saw the contents of the bottom of chest of drawers. Three shotguns and some rubber masks. Green Gremlin, Dark Avenger and a clown. The masks were all used in the robberies. "Well?" Commissioner Gregg asked breathlessly looking in. "Here." Poulson said and Gregg walked in. She looked at the open drawer with the guns and the masks and smiled. If there was one thing the mob could never forgive was being fucked over by one of it's own. Two weeks later. Howard Poulson's Apartment. Kitchen. Evening. "Lots of arrests, enough bodies." Poulson said. "It'll calm down." IronRod told him. "After all, Chicago survived something similiar." "I suppose." Poulson replied and looked at the newspaper. Under the announcement of one of the cities most untouchable criminals there was a picture of a beaming Commissioner Jane Gregg taking questions as another mob boss was being dragged from his home. He noticed the new extension of the shopping mall on Chaykin had started. The ground had been dug and foundations were in place. "Talk to you later." IronRod said. "Sure." Poulson smiled and put the phone back where it came from. He took a bite from the buttered bread and went back to the sauce. One week ago. St Ignatious. Playing Fields. Evening. Finally he had got in touch with her. It had been a week since she had talked to that dumb fuck of a boyfriend. A week since she had told Carlo to deal with that dyke Emma Agnews. Isabella Brunelli looked at the phone again. How many fucking times had she called and got no answer? A hundred, two hundred? And what happened to Agnews? It was a fact she wasn't at the school. That bitch Wyatt had told everyone she was on leave. So even if Wyatt was lying about the dyke that didn't explain Carlo not seeing to tell her juicy details. And what does he do? Texts her! Fucking texts her with a be there message! Well she was here, so where the fuck was he? She found his number and hit the dial button again then listened as it rang. And rang. And passed onto the voicemail. Again. "Fuck!" Isabella spat and threw the phone down. It was no use trying his `crew'. She couldn't raise them either. Not that she wanted to talk to them as they were all balls-for-brains pricks. It it wasn't violence or sex they were useless. "Fucking asshole," she muttered. It was the arms that surprised her as she felt the cloth clamp over her mouth and nose. "MMMMmmmm...." "Shhhhh...." the male voice hushed in her ear as Isabella smelled the chemical in the cloth and slowly slipped into darkness. Darkness. She groaned as she woke up and felt the metal cutting into her wrists. Isabella felt her ankles bound together. "Oooohhh..." she groaned and gave a gasp as the light hit her eyes. Someone was trying to scream nearby as she got used to the light and blinked. In front of her was a bald, fat slob in a vest. he smelled bad. "Anyone tell you that you stink?" she asked. The slob slapped her and she grunted before hearing the muffled cry again. A quick glance around told her she was in a small office. What looked like a warehouse was outside the broken windows. "Where is he?" the slob demanded. Isabella looked at him."Who--" "Was I talking to you, slut!" the slob said and slapped her again. "STOP!" the cry said and she recognised it. "I DON'T FUCKIN' KNOW!!!" Isabella looked up as the slob moved and saw the man near her. His eyes were black and he was bleeding from his nose. She could see the bruises start. "Daddy..." she gasped. "WHERE THE FUCK IS HE!!!" the slob yelled and marched towards her father, Silvio Brunelli. Isabella could only watch as the slob pressed a gun to her father's right thigh and pulled the trigger. BOOOM! As her father screamed in agony, Isabella could only join him in screaming.... Dirt Road. Night. The driver pulled the truck in behind the others and yawned as he looked at the city lights before him. He saw the headlights in the side mirror and looked at the co-driver. "He's here." he said. The co-driver looked down at the metal box at his feet and felt a sense of relief that this was finally being off-loaded. He opened the door and saw the driver of the car get out. A curvy female figure dressed in black walked up to him. "Hey, baby," he grinned at the black woman. "Not a chance," she told him. "C'mon..." he said, jumping down. "You got plenty of willing whores back there." she said. "Where's the cargo?" "Shit," the black man said. "Can't blame a man for trying." He heaved the box out. "Where'd'you want it?" The woman lifted the box from him easily. She walked away holding it under one arm as she held her other hand up giving him the finger. He smiled, looking at her. "Hey!" the driver called out from the cab. "Your turn to fuckin' drive, Casanova! Wake me up when we get to Tribeck." Warehouse Office. Night. Isabella had never seen anyone being shot before. She had never seen the pain. It wasn't like the movies. "STOP IT!" she yelled as the slob pressed down on the bleeding gunshot wound in her father's thigh. She watched him beg for it to stop. He was crying, the tears running down his bruised cheeks. "STOP IT! STOP IT! STOPITSTOPIT!!!" The slob stopped but didn't take his eyes from her father. "I believe you, Silvio." he said. "You don't know where that little fuck is, do you?" She watched her father shake his head. "Please let Isabella go..." he begged. "The where's the money?" Money? Isabella blinked. "I'm telling you, it wasn't us!" her father said. "YOU FUCKIN' LYING!" the slob yelled in his face. "THE COPS FOUND SOME OF THE NOTES! THEY FOUND THE GUNS! THEY FOUND THE MASKS! AND THEY FOUND DNA FROM THAT CUNT'S BOYFRIEND AND HIS GANG IN THEM!" Isabella saw the slob pointing at her. "Carlo?" she said. The slob turned and looked at her. "Yes. Carlo." he said. "You're feeding his cock, where is he?" "I don't know..." Isabella said quietly, shaking her head. Silvio straightened up. "Don't you dare--" The slob punched him. "Let's try again, bitch," he said, walking towards her. "Carlo was helping steal from his friends. And he was hiding the gear he used in a place owned by you're daddy there." Isabella swallowed hard. "They found some other DNA." the slob smiled. "Cunt DNA." She blinked. Isabella had spent some nights at Carlo's place. Fucked him there. "I don't know where he is." she said. "You get anything yet?" a man said and Isabella looked at the door. The man was wearing a suit. Lucio Genarro. Even she knew how powerful he was. The head of the familes. The fucking Godfather. The slob looked back at her father. "He says he doesn't know where the little bastard is. I believe him." Genarro nodded. "So many years," he shook his head. then bent down and looked at Silvio. "We were friends. Remember how we used to boost trucks? We built this together, you remember that? And you stab me and everyone else in the back!" "I don't know a fucking thing about this, Lucio. I swear." Silvio was crying now. "They're laughing at us. Two of my guys got the shit kicked out of them by some shopkeepers last week. Shopkeepers! And what makes it worse was they were lying there and they were tossed a dollar. A FUCKING DOLLAR! To help them with their fucking taxi fare! You made us all a fucking joke!" "It's not me..." Silvio pleaded. Genarro looked at him hard. "I swear I don't know...." Genarro broke off the look and took a breath. Isabella saw the gun in Genarro's hand a second too late. BOOOM! The gunshot echoed around the warehouse as she saw her father fall to the side. he crashed onto the floor and she blinked as the blood slowly pooled out from under his head. Isabella screamed again.... Warehouse Office. Night. The slapping finally silenced her. As Isabella found herself being turned away from the body of her father, she was gasping for breath. She was aware of Genarro walking out and heard the door close. The slob was in front of her again. Just her and him and... "Where's Carlo?" the slob started. "I don't know." she wept. He slapped her again. "I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW!" Isabella screamed in the slob's face. The slob grinned and Isabella saw his rotten teeth. She started breathing through her mouth. "Your Momma was a prime bit of cunt meat in her day. A lot of the boys had a taste." Isabella gulped, feeling sick. She looked away from him only to have her head wrenched back to his eyes. "You're a devious lying little bitch, ain't you?" he said, breathing on her. "Well, no more lies. You're going to tell me were you're boyfriend is, and then you'll tell me where the fucking money is. Because I don't believe your daddy there knew anything, and I know you're boyfriend knows everything." Isabella shook her head. Her whole body was shaking. "Yes. DNA, bitch. And I know he was fucking you. And until you tell me where he is, you're gonna pay his debt for him." "I don't know where he is!" Isabella said again. "Guess I get the first payment then," the slob smiled and Isabella felt sick as he licked his lips. "I don't know what you're talking about. I have any money..." she cried. "All those bank robberies," the slob smiled. Isabella looked at him, surprised. "Coming back to you now, huh? How many tricks you gonna have to turn to pay all that money back?" She looked at her father's body and shook her head. "No. I don't know anything. Shoot me instead!" "You got a debt to pay!" he said as the door opened and two more men walked in "You bring it?" the slob asked and Isabella saw one of the men pull a metal ring that had a leather strap on each side and a cell phone from his pocket. Isabella saw it was her phone. "Don't want you biting anything you shouldn't." the slob grinned, taking the phone. "I always wanted to fuck this bitch." the other man grinned. "No! Please, no!" Isabella cried, tugging at the rope and the handcuffs. "Don't do it, please..." The slob smiled as he pressed the dial button and put it the phone to his ear. "Oh, the voicemail. Again. This prick's been on voicemail all fucking week!" the slob sighed. "I hate these things. Hey Carlo, you little prick, just to let you know your girlfriend's gonna pay back all that fucking money you stole from us." He turned and put the phone down next the two men behind him as they undid their zips before putting it up to his ear again. "CARLO!" Isabella screamed. "FUCK'S SAKE, THEY SHOT DADDY! CARLO, THEY'RE GONNA RAPE ME! CARLOOO!!!!" The slob tossed the phone in a corner. There was a grin on his face as he turned back to her, undoing his trousers. "Payment time, cunt..." "CAAAAAARLLOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" Isabella screamed......... The Hogan Dam. Night. The car stopped and the door opened. The black woman stepped out then opened the trunk and looked at the metal box. She felt the power from it and quickly undid the clips holding it closed. She opened the box and saw the red light that was emitting from within the tightly meshed cage inside. The woman licked her lips and felt deep throbbing between her legs. Quickly she picked up the cage and felt the warmth of the shifting red light. She took it to where the small boat had been left and rolled the cage in. She got into the boat and started rowing. All the time the light seemed to keep drawing her eyes to it. The throbbing between her legs was getting more urgent. After five minutes she decided she was far enough out. The woman rolled the cage towards her and tipped it gently into the water. She quickly rowed back to the shore side and hid the boat. There was no-one around. As she got into the car she undid her trousers and pushed a hand own between her legs. "Mmmmmmm....." she moaned as she found her clit. She gripped the wheel of the car with her free hand and bit her lip as the climax erupted inside her. "AAAAHHHH....." One week later. St Ignatious. Front Office. Morning She had tried calling and emailing the various trust members but had no replies. Things were in trouble in seemed. Various trust members had been too busy, or she'd been told to tell the Principle. "There are channels for this!" was one response. For three weeks Susan had been trying to get someone anyone to listen to her. But no-one seemed to care. Susan could still see that whore giving herself to HIM. She had seen how the students looked at him with the same lust. That same want to betray their upbringing. It was only when HE had arrived that the place changed. The talk had changed. Susan looked at herself in the reflection on the computer monitor. She was 25, and knew they would laugh at how she sometimes complained about things on TV or in the newspapers, but that was how she was brought up. Some things are just the way they should be. Some people shouldn't mix in certain ways. It was down to her to save the school. To save those young women from that nigger. Susan put her bag down on he desk and looked at the Principle's door. She took a deep breath and walked towards it. The secretary knocked on the door. "Come!" Susan opened the door as an image of the whore with her legs spread flashed through her mind. She stepped in. Caroline Wyatt looked up, smiling. The whore, Susan thought seeing the blouse showing cleavage and took a breath. "How was the vacation?" Caroline asked. "I need to say something." Susan said. Caroline blinked. "Sounds serious." she replied. "I know." Susan said simply. "You know?" "I know about you and th--Mr Jameson." Susan said, not wanting to use the actual words she wanted to say. "And?" Caroline shrugged. "And?" Susan stared for a moment. She expected there to be some sign of shame or something. But just saying `And'? "Do you know what he has done to this place!" she said angrily. "He was having sex with Emma Agnews! In the cupboard! In the school!" Caroline Wyatt slowly stood up and looked at her secretary. "You need to calm down." she said. "AND HE WAS HAVING SEX WITH YOU ON THIS DESK!" Susan yelled. "Maybe you should take another week off..." "You know what I did when I was off?" Susan said. "I told everybody on the trust what you were allowing..." "I know." "...and how you were..." Susan stopped. "What?" "I know what you were saying to the trust." Caroline said. You might have you head up your ass thinking this place is the whole world but it isn't. Haven't you been watching the news, with all those arrests?" "Don't change the subject--" "This school was mob-owned!" Caroline told her. Susan shook her head. "You're trying to--" "I have saved this school!" Caroline added. "The mob ran the trust and are running away. This school was a built on drugs and violence. Well, that life is very short. Yes, I fucked Taylor. On this desk, in my bed, anywhere I of he wanted. Your precious trust was RAPING this city! Thy were running out of money, and now they are just fucking running! That's why you were ignored. They're on the run. They never gave a fuck about this place. It was a front to them, that's all. Well, Taylor knows people who care about this place and THEY are the new trust. I know about Emma Agnews and I don't care! If he wants to have anyone in this school, I will let him." Susan blinked at the principle. "Taylor is a man. I am a woman. And you are a silly little girl." Caroline shook her head and walked round the desk. "You think you see a nice boy, you marry him and live together in happiness. Happily ever after?" "Don't try and--" "How many girlfriends has your father been seen in the papers with?" "Shut up." Susan told her. "Your mother over her illness, sorry but let's be honest, her suicide attempt?" Caroline asked. "I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU AND THAT FUCKING NIGGER!" Susan yelled. Caroline paused, smiling. "You want him as much as the rest of us." she said and Susan slapped her. Caroline felt her cheek and slowlt rurned back. "You watched us," she said quietly, "you saw that big, black cock slamming into me and you wanted it. Go and ask him. I don't mind. You want him to take you over the desk? No problem." Susan stepped back, realising her hand was raised to hit again. "You... whore..." she muttered with disgust. "You want that big nigger cock pumping away inside you. Admit it." Caroline said. "Those big, black balls filling you with hot cum..." Susan Coralli looked at the lust in Carline's eyes and saw the principle was rubbing herself between the legs. "You are crazy," she breathed and ran out. As she ran she heard the laughter come from the office. "YOU FUCKIN' WANT IT, TOO!" Caroline yelled after her. * It was only when she was halfway down the long, secluded drive of the grounds she stopped, braking the car and catching her breath. She looked around her, realising she had never looked at the place. She looked at the grounds and saw how spacious they were. Susan saw the building in the car's mirror. She turned back and thought how wonderful it looked. How safe it seemed to feel. Had felt, she corrected herself. The stonework had been cleaned a few years ago, giving it the look it must have had when it was first built. She could name every room behind those windows. Susan stopped as she saw the window on the first floor. The Whore's Office. For a second she thought she could see a figure standing there, looking out. Just a shadow she told herself. The whore would be telling the nigger everything. They'd laugh and then.... Susan felt the sadness inside her as she thought of the whore now in charge of the place. Susan turned back and looked at the road that lead to the gats and city beyond. The nigger had won. For now. The thought of him and the whore together was too much and she felt the sadness change to anger. She'd make someone listen. She would come back and drag that whore out by the hair. Someone would listen.... St Ignatious. Back of the playing fields. Evening. Emma Agnews had gotten the phone call two hours ago. Taylor had told her where to go and when. "What about Wyatt?" she had asked. "Don't worry about her." he told her. And now she was making her way through the trees around the back of the playing fields. "Taylor?" Emma called out and heard a gasp. Emma stopped moving and listened carefully. More gasping. She crept towards the sound. Probably one of the girls with their boyfriend, she thought. Where was Taylor? She stopped again, listening to the gasping. There was something familiar about it. Something.... Emma moved forward then stopped as she saw them. Taylor Jameson, the black saint who'd saved her was standing there, a white woman in a achoolgirl uniform was on her knees in front of him with her hands behind her back. Taylor was gripping the woman's head as his hips were thrusting towards her face. The woman was making gagging sounds. "...ahhhh...." he gasped. "Real good at that. ain't you?" "Ghhhhh..." the woman replied. Emma pressed herself against a tree and watched as he yanked the woman's head back and looked down at her. "Dirty little bitch," he smiled. "Mmmm..." the woman moaned. Emma watched as Taylor grabbed his cock and gently slapped his huge, black shaft across the woman's face. She felt a dull throb begin between her legs as she watched them. Taylor continued to slap his cock across the woman's face as he talked to her. "You want this black fucker inside you?" he grinned. "Hmmmm...." the woman moaned in response. Emma saw Taylor rubbing the large head of his cock over the woman's face. The woman reveled in it. Emma gently rubbed herself as she continued to watch. She couldn't take her eyes off the black cock as it played over the other woman's face. She looked up and found herself meeting Taylor's stare, eye-to-eye. "Come on over and get, Emma!" he said The woman looked up then followed the black man's eyes. Emma suddenly knew why he had been so certain. Caroline Wyatt , in the uniform and on her knees looked round and saw her. Emma felt herself jump as she wondered how the principle would react to her being there. She watched the principle slowly turn back and begin kissing the big, black cock in front of her. "Come here," the black man smiled. Emma couldn't stop herself. She slowly stepped out from behind the tree and walked towards them. Caroline Wyatt was moaning softly as she sucked on Taylor's cock. "Everything's cool." he told Emma and pulled her towards him. He kissed her gently. "It's all fine." he smiled, staring deep into her eyes. Emma felt the throbbing between her legs become overpowering. "Isn't it?" he asked. "Yes." Emma and Caroline said together before realising they'd done so. Emma looked down at and met Caroline's eyes. She saw the smile and how small the woman's hand seemed against the thick, black shaft. "Yes." Emma said again, glancing at both his cock and down the principle's exposed cleavage. "It's all fine." Caroline licked her lips and pushed the cock towards Emma. "Welcome back," she said. Emma lowered herself to her knees and reached for the cock. It throbbed under her touch and her fingers brushed against Caroline's. She looked at the woman and saw her smile. "It's all fine," Caroline said and Emma felt a hand touch her thigh. IronRod looked down at the two white women. So easy, he thought, remembering how Caroline Wyatt's pussy felt as they watched the video of Emma at the Lulu Club. Caroline was grinding down in his cock as they sat in her office and watched Emma kissing the girl. She was leaning forward onto the desk slowly circling her hips. "That gets you so hard, doesn't it?" she'd asked, not taking her eyes from the security footage. "Course." he smiled, gripping her hips as he pushed his hands under her raised skirt. "Two hot women getting it on?" He slid a hand to her crotch and felt her clit. Caroline moaned as he gently rubbed it. "Rubbing each other..." He rubbed harder and Caroline moaned louder. She was pushing herself up and down his shaft, wanting him deeper inside her. IronRod stood up suddenly and pushed her across the desk, staying inside her. He pulled back then slammed his hips forward driving his cock into her balls-deep. Caroline gasped as he fucked her, taking his time as he wanted to enjoy the white pussy around his cock and the footage from the lesbian club... Too fucking easy, he thought again and saw Emma begin to move towards his cock. "Wait." he said and saw the disappointment on her face. "You gotta do one thing first." "What?" Emma breathed, slowly stroking the thick, black cock in her hand. "You've got to swear the oath." he told her. "The oath?" she asked. "The oath." Caroline said with a smile. "You have to swear the oath." "I swear to uphold the truth," he said. "Say it." Emma felt her pussy pulsing with lust for the cock in her hand. "I swear to uphold the truth." she smiled.... * IronRod watched them strip. Two fine-looking white bodies, willing and eager to give themselves to the black man, or woman. He smiled as Emma lay on the ground and slowly spread her legs. Her pussy was shaven. The lips glistening with cunt juices. Caroline gently stroked Emma's thighs and lay beside her. Suddenly Emma rolled over and kissed her. Caroline froze for a second but soon melted under Emma's lips and returned the kiss. She felt fingers gently push down between her thighs and opened them. He removed his own clothes an watched as the two women kissed and fondled each other. He stroked his cock and looked up. It was a pleasant night. The cloudless sky meant the grounds were lit by moonlight. The school was perfect. Private and secluded. Blackshaft controlled it and it could be used to launder all that cash they had. And then come the next term, there would be all that young white pussy so eager to learn. No so-called mafia to get in the way. No precious mob princesses or their boyfriends to try and blackmail or fuck things up. IronRod saw the two women were staring at him. Or at his cock. He eased the skin back letting the head shine in the moonlight. the women looked at each other. "I got plenty for both of you." he told them and walked towards them. Both the horny white women spread their legs open. Too fucking easy, he thought, grinning.... Watkins Shopping Mall. Extension Site. Portable Office. Morning. "I go on vacation for a couple'a weeks and I come back to six fucking accidents and a fucking break-in!" the foreman said, looking at the guy he'd left in charge. Some asshole called Hoffa, of all things. He picked up his hard hat and put it on before standing up. He grabbed the plans and walked out. Hoffa started to follow him but he stopped him. "You have paperwork to do." "Boss..." "I was away." the foreman said, waving his finger at him. "You should have had this shit done by now. You're certain nothing was taken?" Brenner nodded. "Yes, boss. " "It's just you don't break in without taking out, you know?" the foreman said. "Nothing was taken." Hoffa said again. "It was probably kids." "Kids..." the foreman muttered. "Nothing was added, was it?" Hoffa took a breath. "I am sick of you lot making fucking jokes about my name" "Easy," the foreman told him. "Maybe you should have taken the vacation." "I'm just fucking sick of the mafia jokes, that all." "Okay, I'll talk to the guys. Tell them you--" Hoffa stopped him, pointing at him angrily. "I'll talk to them." He opened the plans. "What one was done two weeks ago?" "Number four." Hoffa said. "The concrete set?" "Yeah. It's ready." The foreman opened the door and looked at the building site. he could see where pit number four was. A truck was reversing back to pour on the next layer of concrete. He didn't know why Hoffa was complaining so much. It's not like there was really any bodies buried out in the site....

Blackshaft - 02-02 - The Revengers An Apartment. Afternoon. "Wonderful the technology these days, ain't it, Sal?" Smiler looked round at the body of the old man that sat in the large armchair. A bullet hole was clear in the forehead above the two open and dead eyes. He turned back to the large wide-screen TV and eased his finger off one of the buttons on the duel joystick controller in his hand. A moderately sized box was under the TV with wires leading to the back of the screen. "Look at the graphics on this thing! You'll love this." Smiler continued. "So damn life-like." On the screen a gate was getting nearer. A guard was waving from the barrier. "We just ease it back..." Smiler pulled left joystick back slowing the speed to a stop. "It's just like we're there,Sal." he grinned. "You remember that Pacman game you had in the store. I was never off it. I thought the graphics were so cool." He glanced back at the corpse again. "And then you threw me out. Just as I was so near the high score. The top of the table, Sal, and you throw me out. Spoilsport." The guard had started to come closer. "So you are kinda to blame for who I am." Smiler said. The guard had stopped. "If you hadn't thrown me out, I would never have burnt your store down." The guard's face was screwed up. "I would never have been busted and might never had this life of crime. So it's all you, Sal!" The guard started backing up, a look of surprise on his face. "Look at those graphics" he laughed. "That guy looks like he's shitting himself!" Smiler hit the action button on the controller and the image was suddenly frozen with a message that the connection had been broken. He turned and looked at the corpse again then placed the controller of the games console in the dead hands. "I got to thank you for saving me from a boring life. Thanks, old pal!" Smiler told the corpse and patted the cheek. He took the note and the small stapler from his pocket and snapped the note to the forehead of the body. Smiler picked up his hat and the silenced handgun. The gun was still warm and the cordite hung in the air. He began whistling as he walked out, leaving the TV on and the corpse bathed in light from the screen. *************** Three days later. Ewing Drive. Evening. "We should be long gone by now," the black man in the back seat of the car complained again. "Shut up, I told ya." the driver, the second black man snapped. "We ain't leaving till we get that shitbag." The third black of the trio didn't take his eyes from the house they were watching. "We do this, Creole," he said to the black man in the back. "We get out. Like Homie here says. The shitbag gets it." Creole sighed. It had been three days since the riot had blown Darkgate wide open. Someone had blown the gate and caused all the cell doors as well as ALL the doors to unlock. The riot had lasted seven hours with prisoners finally grabbing cars and other vehicles and smashing their way out. The papers were still full of it. Seems half the prison had got away and the cops were struggling to catch up. He leant forward. "So what's the plan?" Homie didn't take his eyes from the house. It was set in a nice neighbourhood by the looks of it. Full of nice houses with nice families. No fucking ghetto for these people. "We wait." he said. Creole sat back. They were pushing things. They could have been halfway across the country by now. A light from the house made him look and he saw the figure walking out and heading for the car. "We get him?" Creole asked. "Wait." Homie said as the car started then slowly eased out and drove in the opposite direction to them. Creole looked at Homie. "He's getting away, man." "No he's not. Look at this. Found it when we wrecked the staff shit. It was in his locker." Homie smiled as he handed over a picture. Croele took it and moved to the side so the lamp light would shine on it. The picture showed a woman sitting in a garden wearing sunglasses and a bikini. She was fair haired and had an average figure The woman couldn't be more than her mid-forfties. Not bad looking, he thought. "Who is it?" he asked. Homie looked back with a grin. "His fucking woman." * Catherine Delman could scream. She watched the biggest mistake of her life just ignore her as her husband, Greg Delman walked out `to go to work'. She knew what he was doing. He was going to work so he could fuck that young slut of a secretary there. Twelve years of marriage, pissed down the toilet because of that little whore who worked in admin. She'd seen the pictures from that private detective she'd hired. Pictures showing her worthless husband at that whore's place when he'd told her he had to got to work because of an emergency. She'd tried to bring the matter of their marriage up but every time he would just change the subject. It was the final straw. There was so much they had to talk about but he just found excuse after excuse to avoid it. They had been trying for children once but according to him the problem had to be with her. They never went on holiday, because of `work'. "Greg Delman you fucking bastard," she muttered and stepped into the shower. She turned on the water.... * "We doing his bitch." the third black man was called Kayne. "Shit, I ain't up for rape," Creole shook his head. "We ain't doing no rape." Homie told them. "Shit," Kayne muttered. "You know how long it's been since I had a woman." "That racist motherfucker going to learn he ain't the only bastard that knows how to scare." Homie smiled as he showed them the knife and took the ski-mask and gloves from his floor. He looked at the other two black men and nodded as Kayne slipped his mask on. Creole finally pulled his on and followed the other two as they quietly got out of the car. * The water felt good. So warm and welcoming on her skin. She could see that slut at the prison. All those men and she has to go after her husband. Cunt. Catherine squeezed some bodywash into her hand and lathered it up before covering her arms and belly. She bent down and washed her legs leaving her pussy to last. The touch of her fingers on her slit made her smile. Catherine eased a finger inside herself. That was something else her darling husband had been lacking in. `Too tired, honey,' was the most used excuse. Probably not too tired for that slut. Once they were a real couple. All she needed to do was look at that crotch of his and he'd be ready for action. "Mmmmm...." she moaned thinking about the times they used to have. Remembering how he felt inside her. "Mmmmmhhh..." Catherine had her eyes closed as she was gently fucking her hand.... * "Shitty lock," Kayne said as he gently forced the lock of the back door. Her eased it open quietly and listened. Then motioned to Home and Creole to follow. He slipped inside and waited as Homie then Croele crept in. Kayne quietly closed the door and put the chain on. They were in the dark kitchen and Homie kept an eye on the hallway. The water heater was humming. Creeping into the hall he heard water running upstairs. "Bitch is upstairs." he whispered. "Remember, no names." He looked around and took in the surroundings. It was a regular house with the usual shit. Nice pictures and nice decorations. Moving past the main lounge he saw the large widescreen TV and Blu-Ray set-up. The idea wasn't to rob the place but wreck it. Fuck it up, shitbag, he thought. It ain't worth taking but it's worth destroying. I know where you live, you racist cocksucker. We know where you and your nice, white wife lives. Homie stopped at the pictures on the wall of the hall. There he was with the woman in the picture he'd found on the bottom of a locker. He put a finger to his mouth and pointed upstairs. The two black men slowly followed him up the sides of the stairs, making sure they avoided any that might too loud when weight was put on it. * "....aaaahhhh...." Catherine moaned as she came and took a breathas she just enjoyed the feel of the warm water on her skin. She took the bodywash and squeezed some more out. Quickly she rubbed it all over her body and turned into the stream of water, lifting her face and washing the lather off. * Homie gripped the knife tightly as they got closer to the room where the sound of water was coming from. He was smiling under the mask. The bitch was going to get it good. She was going to jump. * Catherine washed her breasts slowly, enjoying the feeling of her wet, soapy hands on them. They were the real thing. No silicone crap there. She wondered if the bitch at work had breasts like these, or were they just fake like all sluts. Probably bought by one of her past boyfriends, she told herself. * They slid into the bedroom and looked at each other as they saw the clothes that had been thrown on a chair. Kayne could feel the hardness starting between his legs. They might only be scaring the bitch, but he was getting some pussy after. * Catherine washed the bodywash from her skin. The slut might be young, she thought. But can she really fuck? Youth is nothing without experience. Catherine knew what a good fuck was. and Greg hadn't given her one of those in three years now. Maybe the little slut will give him something nasty. She smiled at that. The idea of Greg trying to explain where that STD had come from. Maybe it would give her the excuse she needed to kick his ass out and get someone who appreciated her. * Homie stopped. The bathroom door was open wide enough to let him see the bitch. She was something else in the flesh. A nice figure, a shapely ass and sweet tits by the looks of what he could see. Maybe Kayne's idea had some merit, he thought as his cock slowly started to get hard..... * She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and began to dry herself off. Yeah, Greg, hope you get some nasty disease that makes your dick drop off, she thought. Catherine ran the towel down her legs and put it back over the towel wrack. She pulled the bathroom door open and stepped though. The arm grabbed her from behind and felt the strong grip around her throat. Catherine saw the other two figures in the room, both masked and opened her mouth to scream. The sharp edge of the blade touch her cheek. "Scream and it'll be the last thing you do, bitch!" the man holding her told her. His voice was deep and angry. Catherine swallowed the scream. "P...please don... don't...." she muttered. "Jewelery's in the box." "Thanks, bitch," the man holding her hissed in her ear. "Now what else you got?" Catherine remembered she was naked as she felt his free hand sliding down her belly. His fingers stopped just abover her neatly trimmed pubic hair. Oh, shit, they were going to... "Please don't hurt me," she begged, feeling the tears well up. "Please..." As she said it Catherine felt something behind her. The man was getting an erection. Oh, Jesus.... "Get the phone!" the man behind her barked and one of the others grabbed it. "Rip it out!" She watched the phone was ripped from the wall. "Here!" he continued and Catherine was shoved towards the third man. "Watch the bitch." She was grabbed and shoved onto the bed as the othet two left the room. "Please don't..." she begged again, this time looking the man charged with watcing her in the eye. "Don't rape me, please." "We'll do what we fuckin' want, bitch." he replied and Catherine could hear the sneer under the mask. ` * "Jesus, you see the tits on that?" Creole said as he was hustled from the room. "And fucking naked!" "What?" Homie asked. "You never seen a white bitch naked before? Now go around the house and every phone rip it from the wall or take the card from it. When that fuck comes home, he is going to find out what fear is from his bitch." "So what are going to do with her?" Homie patted Creole on the shoulder. "Scare the fucking shit out of her. I told you. Meanwhile, get all the fucking cash you can. That fuck owes us something." * There was something about his eyes, Catherine saw as she sat on the bed, trying to cover herself. He had not allowed her to put on a robe. The man reached towards her and pushed her arm away from her chest. "Shit, you know how long it's been since I seen titties as nice as yours?" he said. Catherine felt scared. Naked in front of a stranger in her own home. She was going to be raped. No. Gang-raped. "Long enough." the man nodded. "Part those legs, let me see that pussy." Ooh, fuck. She swallowed hard and slowly parted her knees. "Wider." he told her. Catherine closed her eyes as she spread her legs wide. "Like it trim, huh?" he said. "I like a nice, trim pussy." Catherine gulped. "All the better for fucking you." The bastard, she thought. If she could just get out and... "Been too long." he told her. "Now I had a bitch like you, I would fuck that sweet body every night." What, did he say too long? Were these men....? She had heard about the riot and prison escape. Were these animals some of the men from that? They had somehow found out where Greg lived and, oh jesus "What do you want?" she said quietly. "Hmm?" he asked and leant down to look her in the eye. She saw he was black. "What do you want?" "What do you think?" Catherine swallowed again. "You're from the prison aren't you?" "Are we?" The fuck was grinning under the mask. She knew he was. "Look, if you're going to rape me, just do it!" she spat and threw her legs open. "Come on!" * "COME ON!" What the fuck...? Homie heard her voice downstairs and started up. He ran into the room and saw Kayne, his arms crossed, in front of the woman who had her legs splayed wide open for hiim. Kayne looked at him. "Come on!" she looked at Homie then Kayne. "Just fucking rape me! You're going to do it anyway! So get it over with." Homie walked around the bed and slapped her across the face. "You ain't in charge here, bitch." he said and looked back at Kayne who simply shrugged. Catherine felt the sting in her cheek and saw the other man was black too. Was the third? Three black men. Three black escaped prisoners. They had to be. And her. Naked. White. Female. And the wife of one of their guards. Three black thugs. "If you're going to..." She stopped. The idea of three black strangers and her was making her feel strange. Not strange. Something else. Something deeper. The prison where that bitch was, she thought. They were from there. An image of her husband, Greg fucking that little whore over her desk popped into her head. Fucking her while she herself was left in danger with three black animals. He'd just walked out, not bothering to look back. The hatred for him grew. Greg couldn't care less. The truth was she'd been feeling horny for months now and Greg wasn't doing it anymore. It would be over in minutes and she'd have to finish herself off after some dumb excuse. Yeah, serve the bastard right to come home and find it wrecked and as for her? Catherine lay back on her elbows and spread her legs. "Come on." she told them. "You're from the prison, aren't you? How long has it been since you had a woman?" She looked at them hard. "You're going to do it anyway. So do it." Footsteps came from the door and Homie and Kayne looked up to see Creole standing there. Homie was aware of the hard-on he had. The white bitch was demanding it. It had been two years since he'd sank his cock into a pussy. God, he needed to get some.... "Bitch ain't saying no." Kayne told them. Creole blinked. "But..." "But what?" Catherine told them. "Either do it or get the fuck out!" "Do what you want." Kayne told the two of them. "I'm taking the bitch." "Ooh..." Catherine watched as he unzipped the denims. A sense of panic hit her. They were going to actually do it! Oh, Christ. Oh, fuck. Ooooh... She watched the black cock being pulled from the denims. Something deep inside her made her keep looking. "Oh, that's...." "Shut the fuck up, bitch!" the black man told her shoving her back onto the bed. "You want it? You get it!" ...Big, she thought. It looked so big. She looked at the man's eyes. There was a determination in them. A hard, cruel determination. She felt the head of his thick, purple-black shaft pushing at her sex lips. Something was telling Catherine she should be fighting him. She should be screaming and scratching him. She should be.... He was inside her. She stared up at him, panting hard as the shaft throbbed. Her pussy walls were juicing up. Had it been so long her body wanted anyone, she thought. Her own pussy was stretching to accept this black thug. This was so wrong. So damn wrong, but... She felt him pulling back, leaving the fat head inside her. "AAH!" she gasped as he thrust forward and she felt his length filling her pussy. "Aaaahhh...." Kayne chuckled, looking down at the white bitch. It felt good to sink his cock into a pussy again. Especially a wet, white pussy. "You ain't in charge, bitch." he said and slammed his cock deep inside her again. She was mouthing something, still looking deep into his eyes. There was something he'd seen plenty of times before. Every bitch showed in in their eyes. They might be saying one thing, but their eyes were saying something else. God, she mouthed... Oh my god... Oh my god.... Catherine wanted to scream but that thick, black cock just felt so good inside her. It had been so long since she'd felt so full. He stopped inside her and Catherine felt his cock gently throb. It felt so hard. She watched as the black man looked towards the man at the door then back down to her. "That's one wet cunt." he told her. "You're asshole husband not giving you enough?" Catherine just lay there gasping for breath. Her pussy was wanting to feel that cock start to move again. "So fucking easy." Kayne said and looked at Creole. He started gently thrusting into the white woman. "Search the house." he heard Homie say and glanced back Homie had his cock out and stroking it hard. "Unless you want some of this." Kayne smiled and looked down at the woman. The hard face was gone. He could see the pleasure there instead. Catherine closed her eyes as the first real orgasm that wasn't self-induced in years hit her. He'd only started and was making her cum. The cock felt so deep inside her. Fuck Greg. Fuck that little slut. She slid her hand onto his ass and pulled him down on each thrust. He stopped suddenly and she opened her eyes to see the black man inside her standing in front of her. The third man had gone. "I'm doing this properly." the black man said as he started pulling his clothes off. She saw the other man doing the same. Their jackets went, then the shirts, then the trousers and shorts. They were standing in front of her naked except for the masks. She looked over their muscular bodies, looking at the dark tattoos on their dark skin. Then stopped at the two dark, hard cocks. "Hands and knees, bitch." the man between her knees told her. Catherine slowly turned over and crawled to the centre of the bed. "Shit, look at that ass." she him say and yelped when she felt him slap her ass sharply. The other black man was in front of her and grabbed her hair with both hands. "Open your mouth, whore!" he ordered and she slowly opened it. The black cock pushed at her lips and forced it's way in as she felt the bed take the man behind her. The familiar round shape pushed at her throbbing pussy lips and she felt him enter her from behind easily. How wet was she? She felt two strong hands slap onto her hips and then the cock pulled back. She felt the cock in her mouth waiting as the hand gripped her hair. "HMMPH!" Both cocks charged into her suddenly. The one in her mouth forced her jaw open wider as the cock in her pussy started pounding away. "Hell, yeah!" the black man behind her cried out as he started pushing his whole length into her, his balls slapping against her thighs. She heard the man in her mouth laugh as he pushed his cock along her tongue and found the back of her throat. She gagged, but all he did was push back in.... * Creole sat on the steps as he heard the sound coming from the bedroom. No rape, he'd said. It was not going to be rape. "White fucking whore!" he heard Kayne say. "Aaaah!" Homie gasped. "Balls deep, man!" Kayne said. "Yeah, man!" Homie replied. A loud slap of skin. "MMMMMMMHHHH......" "Who's in charge, bitch!" Homie said. "MMHH-MMH...." "Who's boss here!" Kayne demanded. A loud gasp came followed by hard panting. "Who's the fuckin' boss?" Homie said. Shit, shit, shit, Creole thought and headed downstairs. He'd just search the house. He stopped and adjusted his cock. The thoughts of that white woman upstairs was getting him hard.... * "MMMHH.... MMMHHH!!!" Catherine was suffocating as she felt the black hands grip her hair and pull her head down his huge, black cock. He'd forced his shaft into her throat and held it there. "GGUUHH!" She started slapping a hand on the bed then on his thighs, wanting him to stop and pull back. She heard the laughter from behind her and felt the cock in her vagina slowly withdraw. Suddenly her head was yanked from the black man in front and she found herself casually toss onto the bed. She couldn't take her eyes from his cock and saw it was shiny and slick with her saliva as she coughed, getting her breath back. The black man moved towards her and grabbed her head again. He put his face close to hers. She saw his eyes were full of the same cruel, dominant look the other man had. She just knew in that moment that they were from the prison. The phones were out of action and the windows were double-glazed and near sound-proof. Catherine was at their mercy. They could do whatever they wanted to her.... The feeling came over her suddenly and she felt the pleasure explode throughout her body. "Oooh..." she gasped, looking deep into the blac man's eyes. "UUUUUuuuuuuuhhhh...." Catherine was having an orgasm! Her whole body was trembling as she felt the throb-throb-throb of pleasure. "Jeee-Zuz!" Kayne gasped as he watched the white woman's body quiver on the bed. "What the fuck d'you do! The bitch just came!" Homie knelt up, looking down at her as her hand went between her legs. He nodded proudly. "Who's the boss, bitch?" he asked again. Catherine gasped in short, sharp breaths as she couldn't believe how she just climaxed. She gently rubbed her eager pussy lips. "You..." she mouthed." "What you say?" Kayne said. Catherine looked up at the black man who's cock was slick with her saliva. "You are." "Bitch knows her place!" Homie grinned. He grabbed her leg and pulled her round on the bed then pushed between her legs and looked down at her. "You know you're place." he told her and reached down, grabbed his cock and found her pussy lips with the hard head. "Don't you?" he asked. Catherine felt the head probe then rub up and down her pussy. She wanted to feel it push against her, to push between those lips and fill her up. She want to feel him inside her.... * Creole had found all the money he could. There was also the usual things they could sell like the silverware and if they were out in time and had the right numbers they could use the credit cards. He made his way back up the stairs and stopped as he realised how quiet it was. Except for the soft squeak-squeak-squeak of a bed moving. He had been in prison for breaking into houses. Nothing violent. Nothing sexual. Inside he'd heard the boasts of how many women some of the guys had `fucked'. They had all said it was with the woman's consent and the bitches had lied. Creole steeled himself as he walked into the bedroom and blinked. They were naked. The woman was underneath Homie and had her knees up as he gently thrust into her. Homie was face to face with her. The woman was staring at him. Not crying. Not fighting. Not trying to push him off. Her arms were around his neck. "Shit, man, you missed something," Kayne said from the other side of the room. "My man just looked at her and she came!" "Huh?" Creole said confused. "AAAaaahhh..." Homie grunted, driving his hips down and rearing up. The woman's hands slid down his back as she closed her eyes and let out a soft moan. "Mmmmhhh...." Homie moaned then knelt back. Creole saw the thick shaft slip out from the white woman's pussy. It was obvious he'd cum inside her. She just lay there, smiling and rubbing her slit. "Just the usual shit," he told Homie. Homie got off the bed and Creole saw Kayne climbing on. He crawled up between her legs and looked down at her. "Open wide, baby." he told her. The woman just lifted her knees and Creole saw Kayne push inside her. He began fucking her immediately. "Usual shit?" Homie asked. The woman was looking up at Kayne, her hands rubbing his waist as he thrust into her. Creole gulped. The woman was into it. "Hey!" Homie said, snapping Creole out of his gaze. "Usual shit?" "Yeah. Money, credit cards..." His gaze drifted back to the action on the bed. "Safe?" "....eh..." "What about a safe?" Homie said. Creole snapped back. "Oh, eh, can't find anything." Homie walked to the bed and pulled the woman's face to him. "You got a safe here, bitch?" he demanded. Kayne stopped fucking her. "Don't stop..." she pleaded. "You want this, you tell us about the safe." Kayne told her and slowly pulled back from her. "No!" she shook her head. "Downstairs! A loose bit on the kitchen floor." "How's it open?" Homie asked. "14-22-19-G." she said and looked back at Kayne. "Please. Don't stop." "Told you the bitch knew her place." Homie said to Kayne and looked back to Creole. "Well?" "On it." Creole said, feeling his own cock getting hard. He back out of the room and headed downstairs. * Catherine moaned as she felt the hard, black dick slowly sinking back inside her. Right now she would give anything to keep feeling that hot, throbbing shaft deep inside her. It felt so good as it pushed deeper and deeper inside her. "....uuuuuhhhhhh...." She closed her eyes and concentrated on the hard cock that was slowly building up speed as it thrust into her.... Suddenly he stopped, forcing every inch he could inside her. Catherine opened her eyes as she felt the explosion of hot, thick cum inside her. She slid her hands down and gripped his buttocks, two hard, jerking mounds of muscle as she felt him him filling her. Catherine groaned as she felt the waves of pleasure building up in her body. It was the best sex she'd had in years. She wanted it. She needed it. And Greg? Fuck Greg. Let him have the little whore in the prison. Catherine opened her eyes as she felt the black thug pulling out. He slid off the bed and high-fived the other black man who knelt then crawled onto the bed. There was no foreplay, no games. He pushed himself inside her and smiled as she wrapped her legs around him. He felt so good inside her as well. Catherine looked up at him and gasped as she slammed his whole length into her. "Find it?" she heard. The third thug was looking at her. Catherine could see the lust in his eyes as she felt the second man thrusting into her. "Get it later." he said and she could hear the smile under the mask. "After I've had some of that pussy." She felt the rising pleasure inside her and knew the orgasm was coming soon. Three black thugs were going to take her. Use her. They were going to fuck her and she was going to enjoy every second of it. She couldn't think of a better way to get back at Greg.... Three Days Later. A Police Car. Evening. Kayne had heard that the other two had been caught. So much for plans he thought looking out the back of the cop car. the two cops in front were saying nothing as they were taking him back to the prison. Or they should have been. The car stopped at a fancy looking iron gate then drove through them when they opened. "Where the fuck you takin' me?" he said, then blinked as he saw the large metal sign beyond the gate. "Hey!" he yelled. The sign had read something like `St Ignatious School for young women'..... "Shut up!" one of the cops said back. "A man's got a deal to offer you!" Two Weeks Later. An Apartment. Morning. Jane Gregg walked through into the front room of the apartment. She wasn't in a good mood. They had only found half the convicts that had escaped from Darkgate. The detective looked up as she stared at the corpse. Gregg smelled it before she entered the apartment. The natural process of decay had started. That was what had finally got the neighbours attention. "Commissioner," the detective, a female who looked older than her years, said. "There was something I needed to see?" Jane asked, looking at the note attached to the forehead. It read two words; `PLAY ME', in a crayon scrawl. "Yes," the detective nodded. She picked up the controller from the arm of the chair. "There's no fingerprints on it. But there is this." She went through the console's menu system until she accessed the video section. The TV screen was suddenly filled with the face of a dead man. A grinning dead man. "HELLOOOOOOOO, COMMISSSSHHHH!" Smiler declared from the large TV. Jane Gregg just stared, her blood running cold. "He's dead." she said finally. "I know. I'm dead. `Cept I got better. Seeing as your watching me watching you it means you found my old pal there. Well, not an old pal really. Sal was a old son of a bitch. No real sense of humour." "He is fucking dead...." Jane said again. "Anyhoooo." Smiler sat back, rubbing his gloved hands. "To business. It was me. I blew up that van at Darkgate Prison. And it was me that hacked the rather crappy prison computer system so all the gates opened when they were told to lock shut. I mean, an old Commodore 64 would've made a better system. And I used that wonderful box down there to trigger the whole thing. The toys these days!" Smiler grinned. "Now you have maybe noticed what I have. Things have got a little dull around here. A certain high and mighty person has..." He waved his hands dissmissively. "...Well, vanished. Not only her but her little girlfriend too." Smiler beamed from the TV as he moved in and filled the screen. "It's been over a year now so let's just face facts. They are gone. And I have looked. They have fucked off and found a nice little secluded place. Somewhere they can 69 each other to their lesbo delights. Anyway, Commish. On the off-chance you might know how to find her, you naughty girl, tell the Queen her number one fan is back, and to get her face out of that hot teenage pussy---" BOOM - BOOM - BOOM - BOOM! The TV exploded as the bullets crashed into it. The gunshots echoed around the room causing other officers to pull their weapons until that saw the person responsible. Holding the smoking gun was Jane Gregg with a hate-filled look on her face. "Why can't he just fucking DIE!" she spat. "Commissioner....?" the detective said quietly but saw Jane Gregg storm out of the room. Nine Months Later. Eglin City Hospital. Day. "YYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" The scream from Catherine nearly split Greg's ears as she started the short, quick breaths she had been taught. She was gripping the metal sides of the hospital bed and braced herself with the metal stirrups that held her legs up and apart. "HU! HU! HU! HU! HU! JEEEZZZZUS FFFFFUUUUCKINNNNN CHRRRRIIIIST!!!!" she screamed. "Okay, Cathy." the female doctor said from between her legs. "Keep pushing!" "Keep pushing, hon--" Greg said as he wiped the sweat from his wife's brow. "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU ASSHOLE!" Catherine told Greg, shocking him a bit. "Don't worry," a nurse said to him. "It's just the stress." Catherine lay back, a grin across her face and grunted as she pushed again. "FFFFFFUUUUUCK!" She had lied to him all those months ago. Greg had come home and found the house turned upside down and the safe was emptied. She told him and the police that the three men hadn't touched her. They'd threatened to but hadn't put a finger on her. The shock had brought Greg closer to Catherine and seemed to fix their marriage. He was more like the man she used to know. The slut was gone. "Okay, here comes baby! The head's coming. Just keep...." The doctor fell silent and exchanged looks with the other medical staff. "What?" Greg asked. "Just keep pushing, Cathy." the doctor said quickly. A nurse looked at the doctor and mouthed two words to her. The doctor quickly shook her head and mouthed back a single word. "What is it?" he said again. "OOOOH GOD, COME ON! UUUUHHH!!!" Catherine pushed again. "Nothing." the doctor shook her head, a little too quick. "What the hell is wrong, doctor!" Greg leapt to the bottom of the bed. "What's wrong with the...." "OOFFH... OOFFH... OOFFH..." Catherine blew on each push. She could see the look on her husband's face. A look of confusion. "....black?" Greg muttered staring at the large black head pushing through the stretched, pink lips between his wife's spread thighs. He looked up in shock at Catherine. "Black?" he repeated. The grin spread across the Catherine's face as she panted hard and continued to push her new black child into the world. "You...? Black...?" he started. "FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!" She was grinning as she screamed at him triumphantly. "FUCK YOU....!!!!" Catherine Laughed.... THE END

Now. Eglin Police Department. Interview Room 06. "No woman was safe." Stephanie said. "And he didn't even try to hide it. In a way I felt sorry for his wife. She had to have known." Moors' eyes narrowed. "The wife knew about his affairs?" she asked. "She had to have." Stephanie said. "Didn't stop you," Watts said, "from sleeping with him?" Stephanie looked down at the table. "Not my greatest moment." Moors took a note. "You're saying that maybe the wife...?" "She had a reason for getting him," Stephanie shrugged. "But Emma, that's his wife, she wouldn't be able to do this." "Then who?" Watts asked. "There was a teller, name of Samantha." Stephanie shrugged. "She would talk big. How she knew these big people, how they weren't to be fucked with - her words." "Wrightson slept with her?" Moors asked. "Yes." "Before you?" Watts asked. "Yes." Stephanie said again. "These people that weren't to be fucked with." Moors shrugged. "Just talk?" "Maybe not." Stephanie said. "She would turn up late, pull a lot of crap that other people would get fired for. She never did. Any disciplinary action would quietly be dropped." "And this was unusual?" Watts asked. "Very." she replied. "It's a bank. Stuff like that has to be seen to be being done. It was noticed." "And the staff affairs weren't?" Watt asked with a smile. Stephanie looked at him. Fuck you, she thought. Fuck you up the ass... Three Weeks Ago. Wayling Bank. Day. The new start was blonde, pretty and 21. Stephanie knew who that prick would be going for next. Samantha-fucking-Lammie. She looked at the tight skirt around the little bitch's hips and the blouse with just enough buttons undone to show off the fuck-me cleavage. Cunt, Stephanie thought. A message popped up her computer as she watched the little cunt leave. `Store room. Now.' it said. * "Who's my bitch!" Stephanie heard in her ear as she was bent over the photocopier. The black woman stood up behind her and pushed the thick, rubber, strap-on even further inside her. "Who's my fucking bitch?!" Claudia demanded again. "I am!" Stephanie gasped, gripping the machine under her. "That's right..." Claudia grinned and began fucking the white woman... Claudia's Apartment. Night. "AAAUUUUHHHHH!" Stephanie, kneeling and face-down, gasped as she clawed at the bed. Claudia bent over her and Stephanie felt the full, black breasts press against her back. The strap-on the black woman was wearing was buried deep inside her ass. Her ass felt so raw, despite the lube. Her stretched ass... "Shhhhh..." Claudia hushed her and reached down between Stephanie's legs. Stephanie felt the fingers gently finding and stroking her clit as that thick rubber, shaft eased back. She closed her eyes and let the orgasm rip through her... * "Course, that one doesn't count." Claudia told her as they lay side-by-side in bed. She was still wearing her `cock'. "Huh," the white woman replied, snuggling up to her lover. "It ain't a real black cock." Claudia said. Stephanie looked at the black woman. "Only a real one counts." "But my ass is--" Claudia put a finger to Stephanie's lips. "Only counts if it real. And you might not be able to handle a real one." Stephanie pulled back. "I could handle a real one!" she said. "Like the ones on the computer?" Claudia lay back, her hands under her head. The `cock' flopped down onto her belly. "Those big fuckers?" "I could handle one of those!" the white woman protested. "Nah..." Claudia shook her head. "Yes!" Stephanie said back. "This is a stick compared to those fucking branches," the black woman said, nodding to her strap-on. "I..." Stephanie started, straddling Claudia. "...Can handle..." She grabbed the black `cock' and pressed it against her pussy lips. "It!" she finished, sinking down the black shaft. The black woman laid her hands on white thighs on top of her and pushed her own hips up to meet the white slut's pussy... * Flat on the bed, Stephanie gasped as she felt the thicker strap-on stretching her asshole that bit further. "Mmmmmm..." she groaned, her eyes glued to the TV screen that faced the bed. On it a red head was sucking off two black men, first one than the other "Big, black, fucking nigger cock in your ass." Claudia breathed in her ear as she slowly fucked that white asshole under her. "Black fucker opening you up..." The redhead slowly licked up one cock, from the balls to the tip... "Nnnnnnnhhh...." Stephanie moaned as bit the bed under her. She felt Claudia's hands on hers, the black woman's legs pinning hers down. And that black cock gently pushing in and out of her ass. Red turned and sucked the other man's balls into her mouth... "Yeah, you a dirty, white bitch..." Claudia told her. "Big, nigger cocks fucking you..." "Yeaaaahhhhh...." she gasped. "Riding your white ass..." One of the men grabbed Red's head, pulling her back. He pushed his massive black cock into her mouth. He groaned as he slowly began to fuck her lips... "MMMMmmmmmmm..." she moaned as the pleasure rose up inside her, feeling that `cock' in her ass and watching that big nigger face-fuck the redhead.. "Insiiiide meee..." "Wanna feel a big, black inisde you?" Claudia moaned in her ear, sinking her own `cock' back in. "You wanna feel that fucker inside you?" "Uuuuuhhh, God...." "You want those black fuckers inside you, bitch?" Claudia breathed again. "Yeeeeesssss...." Stephanie groaned and climaxed yet again...!!! Two Weeks Ago. The Club Noire. Night. The club was hot. Claudia had told Stephanie to dress `sexy'. She had. A black mini-skirt and top that plunged down to reveal her cleavage. One slip and she would be topless. Claudia was dressed just as hot, in tight, blue leather trousers and a bikini top that complimented those fine, dark breasts. "I've never heard of this place," Stephanie said as Claudia pushed her way to the bar. "It's a private club." the black woman told her and ordered. "I'm a member." Stephanie looked around her and realised for the first time that there wasn't a white man in the place. All the men were black. The women were an even collection of black, white, asian, blonde, brunette... But the men were all black The music was pounding as the lights went down a little more and she saw huge screen blink into life. Black figures on white backgrounds filled them and started fucking! "Hot, ain't it?" Claudia smiled, pushing Stephanie's drink into her hand, then quickly stroked the white woman's left breast. A spotlight lit up a stage to one side were a white blonde who looked no more than mid-twenties was dancing. She was dressed in nothing but a tiny, bikini that glistened in the light. "Keep watching." Claudia told Stephanie. Out of the darkness behind the blonde a figure stepped onto the stage - a tall, muscular, black and male. Who was naked! Stephanie felt herself flush as she stared at the cock between his legs. She felt Claudia slide behind her, and press against her. A hand slid down the front of her skirt and Stephanie let herself rest against her female, black lover. The blonde started to gyrate against the black man, rubbing her small, white ass against his huge, black cock... Stephanie felt fingers reach her pussy lips. She wasn't wearing underwear, as Claudia had asked her too. The black man had began to dry-hump the blonde, pulling her back by the hair and playfully slapping her ass... "...uuuuhhh..." Stephanie moaned as the fingers gently rubbed. The blonde got down on her knees and grasped the black cock. She slowly started working it... "You like that, don't you?" Claudia whispered. The cock was growing.... "He's so big..." Stephanie gasped. ...Getting harder... "You're so wet, right now." Claudia breathed and tenderly kissed Stephanie's neck. The blonde began licking the black cock, getting really hard... And long... And thick... "Oh, my God!" Stephanie gasped, in shock at what she was seeing - a live sex show! The black man pushed the blonde's head back and pushed the head of his hug, cock towards her lips.... "He's gonna fuck her right there," Claudia whispered. The blonde accepted his cock, slowly sucking on it to cheers and whoops of delight from the crowd. "...oooohhhh..." Stephanie groaned as the mixture of a sex show and those fingers now pushing into her seemed to excite her. The black man just stood there, hand on his hips as the blonde gave him a slow blowjob, licking up his hard cock... "...mmmmm.." Stephanie moaned. ...Kissing his big, full, black balls... "Fuuuhk..." Stephanie groaned as the fingers found her clit. The blonde slowly stood up, then smiling at the crowd, eased her bikini bottoms down then off, and kicked them into the crowd. A huge cheer sounded as she knelt down. The screens suddenly changed. Every one of them showed the action on the stage from different angles, in wide-shot and close-up... "That big, black cock's gonna nail that sweet, white pussy," Claudia to Stephanie. "In front of you." The black man grabbed the blonde by the hair again and pressed the head of his cock down between her buttocks. The screens showed it sink down till he found his target. And pushed... Stephanie gasped as she watched the huge, black phallus slowly push into the small blonde. "...aaaaaaauuuuuuuUUUUUHHHH...." the blonde moaned, arching her back as she accepted the massive black cock... "...hhhhhaaaaaaa..." Stephanie moaned, watching the stage, imagining that huge cock moving inside the blonde, filling her, spreading her open. A second hand slid down the front of her skirt and Stephanie felt Claudia grinding herself against her. The black started to fuck the small blonde, going deeper inside her... Stephanie responded to Claudia's moves, meeting them, but not taking her eyes from the action on the stage. "Ooh, God!" the blonde gasped as the fucking became harder... Stephanie bit her lip, the dry-humping and fingers now probing her pussy working their own magic. The black man was pounding into the white blonde, in time to the music, driving hard and deep inside her willing pussy... "I'm cumming..." Stephanie gasped quietly and felt the fingers and grinding become harder. The blonde started shaking. "Aaaaaahhhhh...." she moaned as he eyes rolled upwards. "Bitch jus' CUM!" a shout went up and the room cheered as one screen went into a close up of her face as the blonde gasped out her climax. The words `CUM-CAM' flashed at the bottom as the music got harder and faster. "Fuhhhk..." Stephanie moaned as she watched the blonde's fucking go in time to the music. Harder... Faster... Deeper... That black stud did not stop, just carried on pounding into her and began slapping her ass to the crowds delight as she rode out the rest of her orgasm. Stephanie let out a sharp gasp as she felt her own orgasm start and hoped she'd managed to keep it quiet. "Hhhaaa.... Haaa..." she gasped again and looked away from the stage to see one black man smiling at her. Everyone else was watching the sex show, all except him. Her eyes met his and he nodded , looking her up and down. Suddenly Stephanie felt embarrassed, like a schoolgirl. She tried to move but found Claudia was holding her tightly. "We've been-- "Seen." Claudia said, and Stephanie heard the smile in her voice. "Good-looking nigga, ain't he?" "...uuuuuuuuhhhhhh..." the blonde on stage moaned as the black man inside her continued fucking... "I..." Stephanie started as she felt Claudia loosen her grip. Suddenly she was being pulled around and found herself in a kiss with Claudia. "They got private rooms." Claudia told her. * The Club Noire. Private Room. The bed was round. The light was low. They were naked. Stephanie let her orgasm out loud as the black woman's tongue played with her clit and she felt the finger thrusting inside her. "UUUUUUUUuuuuhhhhh...." the white woman panted as her body bucked.... Claudia kissed up the panting woman's body, finally meeting her face-to-face. She licked her lips and smiled. "Mmmmm," she moaned. "Delicious." "What is this place?" Stephanie asked. "Private club, told you." "But there were no..." she started but let her voice drop. "No what?" Claudia asked. "You know?" "White men?" Stephanie nodded. "Then it wouldn't be called Noire, would it?" Claudia smiled. "But that girl was white." Stephanie said. The black woman smiled again. "There were other white women out there." "Private club." Claudia told her, getting up. "Private rules." Stephanie watched her walk towards a wardrobe and open it. Her eyes widened as she saw the array of sex toys hanging inside it. Handcuffs, whips, masks, leashes, dildos and strap-ons of different lengths and thicknesses. "Now," the black woman smiled. "What am I going to fuck you senseless with?" she purred... * Stephanie was handcuffed, her hands behind her back. She'd had her third orgasm of the night. She lay there panting as she saw Claudia standing next to the bed, still wearing the thick strap-on. The black woman had a remote control in her hand and switched on the large screen on one wall. The stage in the club filled it and Stephanie saw a naked brunette straddling a equally naked black male, riding him to the encouragement of the crowd. She looked up to see Claudia smiling at her. "I got an idea." the black woman said. * The Club Noire. Stephanie felt so hot in the gimp mask and felt the dog collar around her throat as she knelt on all-fours. Other than them she was naked. Suddenly the black curtain opened and she saw the high-lit stage ahead. On the screens the black figures were fucking again. Claudia walked ahead quickly ad tugged on the leash. Stephanie crawled out behind her. and the crowd cheered. She couldn't quite see them, thankfully. They were just figures in the dark. hey were going to watch her get fucked like she had watched that blonde get fucked... Stephanie felt a hand grab her hair and pull her head back. She gasped as she saw the screens change and saw Claudia kneeling behind her, the strap-on just like a proud cock. Stephanie smiled as she saw herself, the gimp mask hiding her face but it was her, about to be publicly fucked. She felt the thick head pressing down between her buttocks and saw the screens change to show every angle. "Mmmmm," the black woman smiled and Stephanie felt the head pushing at her pussy lips. The white woman moaned and the crowd started to cheer... * Claudia's Apartment. Dawn. "Always knew you were a bad bitch." Claudia told Stephanie as they drank coffee. They had only left the club an hour ago. Stephanie was sitting on the couch as Claudia settled down beside her. "Only question was how bad?" "Beats karaoke." Stephanie nodded with a smile. "How bad?" the black woman asked again. "What do you have in mind?" Stephanie purred, moving closer to Claudia. "Getting that fuck at the bank." The white woman stopped and looked at Claudia. "Who, Allan?" "Get him where it hurts." Claudia said. Stephanie blinked. The idea was tempting. "How?" she asked. "When does the security truck come in?" the black woman said. Now. Eglin Police Department. Interview Room 06. "So you're saying it was this `Samantha'?" Moors asked. "You mentioned the mob, and she liked to talk tough--" "See, we think we know who the insider was." Watts told her. Stephanie kept her face frozen. "Not all the camera were put out of action." "Oh?" Stephanie smiled weakly. "There was one." Moors added. "Still working." "Recording everything." Watts said. "All in bright technicolour." Moors smiled. "It's even High Definition," Watts smiled now. "Good..." Stephanie said... One Week Ago. The guards came through first, rapidly followed up by the suited black men. Six of them, all wearing suits and latex masks of superheroes, and all were armed with handguns. As the door was slammed shut and bolted, the delivery guards were shoved on the floor and told to lay there. Screams started but were silenced as five of the robbers walked up and down pointing their guns in the people's faces. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" one in the mask of the Dark Avenger yelled out. "BE COOL AND YOU WILL ALL BE SAFE! WE HAVE A SMALL WITHDRAWAL TO MAKE AND HOPE TO BE OUT OF HERE SHORTLY! IN THE MEANTIME, THE ALARMS HAVE BEEN CUT. THE PHONELINES HAVE BEEN CUT. NOW, ALL CELL-PHONES, KICK `EM ON THE FLOOR! NOW!" Stephanie was just glad there was no customers in at this time. The bank was closed for both training and the twice-weekly pick-up of access cash. She watched as various cell phones were slid onto the floor, then picked up and put into a bag. "NOW WOULD THE BOSS PLEASE STEP FORWARD AND INTRODUCE THEMSELVES!" the `Dark Avenger' yelled. Stephanie looked round to where Allen Wright had been standing and saw he was... Gone. Bastard. Fucking coward! The door was opened quickly and a seventh, smaller robber walked in with three large holdalls. This one wearing an Ultimo-Man mask. She looked back and found herself looking down the barrell of a handgun. "I--" she whimpered. "That be you, right now, I guess." the `Dark Avenger' said. "You go with my man, Miss Dep-uty Manager." The smaller robber grabbed Stephanie by the hair and pulled her through a door to her office. "Please, don't kill me..." Stephanie begged. The robber pushed her over the desk and put the gun down next to her. Stephanie looked at it. "My bitch," the robber said and Stephanie looked back over her shoulder. Claudia! "......" Stephanie opened her mouth but Claudia put a gloved hand over it. "Six big, black, fucking niggers out there. With big. black, nigger cocks..." she whispered and went back to the door. She whispered something to `Dark Avenger' who turned back. "You're in charge!" he told someone and stepped into the office. "You gonna fuckin' talk now, bitch!" he said and slammed the door closed as he strode in. Stephanie looked up at Claudia/Ultimo-man. "This is where you find out what you've been missing." Claudia said, opening the wall safe that held the main safe keys. "That's right." `Dark Avenger' agreed and Stephanie heard a zip being undone behind her. She looked back and gasped as she saw the real, live, black snake being pulled out behind her. It looked like one of those big. black cocks she saw on Claudia's computer... * "UUUNNNHHH!" the first cry came and the staff and robbers looked at the door together. "UHHHHHH....!" "FUCK YOU, BITCH!" they heard. Under the masks the robbers were grinning. "YOU GONNA WISH YOU TALKED NOW!" The staff looked at them, then back at the door. "You fucking bastards." one woman, a young, pretty blonde, muttered at the robbers. She shut up as a robber in Green Gremlin mask put his gun in her face. She saw the lust in his eyes... * Stephanie gripped the edge of the desk as she felt the big, thick, black cock pushing deeper inside her pussy. Her first proper black cock. Big and black and throbbing and much bigger than any other cock she'd ever had. Especially that tiny prick of a manager. That was small but this black fucker... It was so damn big. Claudia was right. She started getting wet as soon as he had yanked her skirt up and ripped the panties aside. "THE KEY, BITCH!" the `Dark Avenger' demanded. "NO!" Stephanie grinned, playing along, and felt his strong hands slide along the sides of her hips... The slap on her ass was sharp, and loud enough to be heard outside the room. "AAH!" she yelled as the `Dark Avenger' started to fuck her. "THE FUCKIN' KEY!" her `rapist' demanded as Stephanie felt his cock finally sink all the way in. She could feel his balls against her skin. Thank god she was on the pill... * "FUCK YO--!" They heard another slap silence their Deputy Manager. "What the hell is he doing to her!" another teller wept. "Same thing you'll get, if you don't shut up." `Green Gremlin' said, still eyeing the pretty blonde teller. She was blushing, refusing to meet his gaze. "UUH, GHHOD...." "....Uuuuuuuhhhh....." they heard the deep, male groan and knew just what happened. "Bastards..." the blonde shook her head, rocking back and forth slightly. "--od, girl." they heard and looked as the door opened and `Dark Avenger' strode out proudly, doing up his trousers. "Who wants the bitch next?" he announced. * Stephanie was gasping as he had pulled out of her and shot his load over her ass. "Just a quick one now," he told her. Her pussy felt so stretched by his thick girth. "Good girl." he said loudly behind her and stepped out. The door slammed closed behind her and Stephanie looked back to see the `Green Gremlin' standing there. Slowly he was unzipping his trousers and she gazed at the new black cock. Just as big, and just as thick as the `Dark Avenger's'. "Oooh, my..." she gasped, then slowly started to smile. "TIME TO LEARN SOME FUCKIN' RESPECT!" he declared and stepped forward to the grinning white woman.... * "NO... NO... NO... NO...!" they heard her cry... * "...PLEASE, DON'T!" Stephanie yelled as she lay back on the desk, her legs spread. "NOOOOOUUUUUHHHH!!!" she cried out as her second black man pushed the fat head of his wonderful cock into her wet, swollen pussy lips. Stephanie lay back and held onto the desk as the black man started thrusting, a wide grin on her face... * "STOP!" they heard her cry. "DON'T....!" "UUH!... UUH!... UUH!" "PLLLLLEASSSSSE!!!" Another SLAP! "JUST GETTIN' WARMED UP, BITCH!" They heard her grunts... They heard her pleading groans for her `ordeal' to stop... `Dark Avenger' was watching the staff very carefully. Some wept, some shook their heads, but none of them did a fucking thing. It was all going to plan. Just like the rest of the jobs. He saw one of the staff. Small, pretty blonde... She was staring at the door like the rest but there was something different in her face. * `Green Gremlin' was grunting like an animal as he bent over and pounded his cock into Stephanie. She felt him drive deep inside her before slowly pulling back and SLAMMING it in again. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..." she muttered as she felt the orgasm building. Stephanie locked her eyes on his and saw the pure, animal lust in them as he pulled back again. She reach around his neck and pulled him down. "Do me, you big, black motherfucker!" she whispered... * "UUH! UUH! UUH!" Claudia heard the loud male grunts from the office. She was getting claustrophobic under the mask as she dragged the first bag towards Stephanie's office. Kicking the door open she stopped at the sight of the white bitch, legs and arms locked around her `rapist', servicing a green masked bull. Stephanie seemed to be whispering to him as he `raped' her. She dumped the bag into the office and remembered the time. Claudia headed for the safe again. * "Harder... Harder, you black fuck!" `Green Gremlin' heard her urge him on and suddenly pulled his shiny, wet black cock from the white woman's slippery pussy and broke away from his `victim'. He was panting as he looked down at her, her skirt around her waist, the panties torn aside now. Her eyes were full of lust as she licked her lips and pushed a hand down to her pussy. Teasingly she rubbed herself then slowly eased her wet lips apart with her fingers. The `Gremlin grinned under his mask and headed around the desk, grabbed her hair and pulled her back. The bitch was a good as he had heard. He grabbed her blouse and ripped it open.... * They heard the ripping. "You bas--" one male hostage started and stopped as a gun was pressed against his head. The door opened and another satisfied robber walked out. The `Dark Avenger' saw the blonde's breathing was getting shallow. The bitch was getting off on what she thought was going on! * Stephanie was lying there, wiping the cum from her exposed breasts. He had came over them, pumping that glorious, shiny, thick shaft that was slick with her juices right over her face. She had felt the warm, thick seed splatter over her bare skin. "Mmmmmm... she moaned softly and rubbed the warm, black seed into her skin like it was a lotion. The door opened and she saw the next robber, the larger of them all,.This one wearing the mask of the `Hunter'. He was smiling in his eyes as he closed the door. "Bad girl." he said. She smiled, opening her legs... * "UUUUUUUHHHHhhhh...." they heard. The staff were no longer looking at the door anymore. They didn't want to look. The `Dark Avenger' nodded at the `Green Gremlin' who nodded back. They both saw blonde teller looking at them with disgust and... There was something else in those pretty eyes. Something of the animal... * "Bend over," he told her and Stephanie did as she was told. She stood up and turned, bending back over the desk. She opened her legs and braced herself to finally get that cock inside her. She heard his trousers unzip, heard him step forward, then pushed herself back to meet that huge member... * "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH...!" The staff looked at the office as they heard the scream. * "...HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Claudia heard it as she finished stuffing the second bag full of money. She looked back and smiled... * "HAH!... HAH!..." Stephanie was panting hard as she felt her ass stretching beyond anything Claudia had managed to do. He had gone straight for her ass. "Too much... Too much!" she gasped, her ass feeling like it was about to rip. `Hunter' pushed her down. He ignored her cries and pushed further into her, his shaft forcing her tight ass-ring open. "HMMM!" "HAAAA!!!" she cried out again, slamming a fist onto the desk... * "AAAAAHHHH!!!!" Claudia pushed the door open and saw the pain-wracked face of Stephanie. Tears were streaming down her face. She looked at Big Daddy as he slowly pulled back. Claudia dumped the bag down and knelt in front of the white woman. Too big, Stephanie mouthed. "He's too big!" she gasped. The black woman stroked the reddened face and hushed her. "Only the first time, honey." she said and stood up, then held the white woman down. Claudia nodded to the man. "Take her ass, Black Daddy!" she hissed. * "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!" The scream echoed around the bank.... The blonde closed her eyes... * Black Daddy gripped Stephanie's waist and drove his hips forward. The white slut screamed as his hard cock forced the last resistance of her asshole out. He rammed every inch of his monster, black cock into the raw hole. "YEAHHHHH!" he roared... * "The fuck..." one of the male staff muttered and made to stand up. `Green Gremlin' shoved him back. The man stared at the grinning, green face and backed down... * Claudia looked at Stephanie's panting, gasping face. She saw the tear-stained make-up, the silent, pleading movement of lips. Stephanie felt herself going limp as that huge, black cock rammed in and out of her raw asshole. She grabbed Claudia's hand and held it as the head forced it's way inside her. * All the robbers had spotted the pretty, blonde teller. It was obvious she had just came while her boss was being `raped'. Her name badge read `Sam'. The door opened and the `Hunter' finally walked out, zipping his trousers up. "Next man in!" `Dark Avenger' said.... Now. Watts seemed to take great pleasure in opening the laptop and switching it on. "This may be difficult to watch," he said as Stephanie watched as he took a disc from the back of the folder and slid it into the slot on the side of the laptop. "It's video of your rape." She watched the small pointer change and turn as the two detectives just kept watching her. The media player started up and filled the screen. Stephanie watched nervously for a couple of minutes then looked at them. "I was raped and you show me it. I was there!" she said. Watts turned the computer back and he and Moors blinked as they saw the screen filled with the face of a non-descript white blonde as she licked her tongue around the fat head of big, black cock! "You gonna fuck me, Big Daddy?" the blonde teased. "What the fuck--" Moors spat. "Climb on, baby-doll." a deep voice said "I was assaulted!" Stephanie told them. Watt blinked in surprise as he stared at the computer. "That was the disc!" he told Moors as she looked at him. "You sick fucks!" Stephanie leapt up, knocking her chair back. "I'll climb on good, Daddy," the blonde smiled. Stephanie marched to the door. "You two are fucking twisted!" she told them, finding the door locked "Jesus..." Moors gasped. "That was the disc!" Watts said again and slammed the laptop closed. "LET ME OUT OF HERE NOW!" Stephanie yelled "Ooooo.... yeah," the blonde's voice came from the closed computer. "So big, Daddy....So, fucking big..." Moors grabbed the computer and threw it against the wall. The blonde was silenced. Stephanie looked at the angry detectives. "I said, let me out. Now." she stated angrily. * The sunlight felt good on her face as she stood outside the police station. Stephanie had gotten her apology from the Captain himself. Fuck those cops, fuck them all. She watched the yellow cab pull up and the dark face inside looked out. "Geller?" the deep voice asked. She stepped forward, recognising it, and got into the back of the cab. As it left the police station behind it, Stephanie smiled. "They said there was a camera still working." she said. "Not one of yours." the taxi driver told her. "Probably from the bank's real owners." "The mob?" The driver glanced at her in the mirror. "Who else?" Stephanie leaned forward, stunned. "They'll kill me!" she told him. "Those fucks been riding on a big rep for a long time." the black driver said, turning into an alley. "They might have money, but they got fuck-all power." "They'll still kill me!" Stephanie repeated as the taxi stopped. "They'll see that and kill me!" The driver turned. "They'll be too busy with that dumb white boss of yours." he smiled. "Allan?" "For a money man, he don't know how to cover his own embezzlement." the black man said. "What?" she asked, confused. He stopped the cab and motioned to her to come up front. Then watched as Stephanie climbed into the front seat. "What do you mean?" "Man was moving a lot of money around. A lot of money." the driver shook his head. "Once the new cops on the case start looking into it, that's what they'll find. His name authorising a shit-load of cash to be moved off-shore. That and the fact he was leaving quickly, what do you think the mob will figure it as?" The door behind her opened and she looked back to see Claudia slide in. "How'd it go?" the black woman asked. "They had video." Stephanie said. "Taken care off, right?" Claudia smiled in the mirror. "She's worried about the mob." the black man said. Claudia smiled again. "They're busy chasing a certain white asshole." "But--" "But he will tell the cops everything he knows." Claudia told her. "The family will go into witness protection. The mob'll be fucked up the ass, and six months down the line the only risk he'll have is getting caught fucking one of the neighbours' wives in wherever the hell they've moved him to." Stephanie sat back and looked at the black man. She saw the muscular torso under the open shirt and thought it through. Allen was running, Allen's name on the cash being moved. "He's fucked." she said simply. "But the camera, the disc. The detectives looked sure..." The black man just smiled. "We took care of it. We're everywhere." "We?" Stephanie asked. "We." Claudia said, behind her. "Who's `we'?" Stephanie asked again. The driver looked at her. "Blackshaft, baby." "Blackshaft?" "Blackshaft." Claudia smiled. "They own the Club Noir." "You can switch it, the video?" she asked. He shrugged. "Weren't nothin'." the black man said, reaching for Stephanie. "Now what do you say?" She smiled as he gently pulled her head down towards his crotch. "Thank you." she said and opened her lips. "Call me Daddy, baby." he grinned. "Black Daddy." Claudia smiled again. Stephanie felt the bulge in his trousers. "Thank you, Daddy..." she said. "Who's Sam?" he asked suddenly. Stephanie looked up. "Sam?" "Sam. One of the tellers. Blonde. Sweet little ass on her. She was getting off on your, eh, `punishment'." he smiled. "Was she?" Stephanie said, curiously. "Yeah, who is she?" Stephanie smiled. Samantha Lammie. A lazy little bitch, fresh out of collage, who thought she could get by on her looks and ability to cock-tease. Little cunt got off on her `rape'? Stephanie knew just the man who could teach her a lesson. "Daddy want to meet her?" she purred. "Not just daddy, baby..." he smiled, and pushed Stephanie's head back down towards his crotch as he saw Claudia, in the mirror, sitting in the back, simply smiling... END

Blackshaft - 2-07 - Black Night part 3 (Adults Only. Copyright@Rama. 2013) Patrol car. Evening. Officer Bryce was bored. Rumours were all over the place about Headquarters and from what he had heard half the force were at the the Deputy Commisioner's place. Well, what used to be his place. So far the night had been quieter than normal. No fights or complaints or any other shit that people moaned about. The woman smiled at him as she passed the patrol car and he nodded back, replying with a smile. She sauntered on by and he looked at the sweet ass that was swinging into the night. She was wearing a short skirt that seemed to caress the whole firm-looking ass. He could imagine looking at that ass as she bent over the front of the car, that skirt slowly sliding up and over and he felt the stirrings in his lap. The driver's door opened and his partner, Officer Kale slid in behind the driver's seat carrying the two paper bags. Kale dropped one bag into Bryce's lap. "Where the fuck were you?" Bryce said. "There was a queue." Kale replied pulling the box of fries from the bag. "A queue?" Bryce looked closer. "Fifteen minutes in a queue?" Kale looked at Bryce and smiled. "Busy night." he said through a mouthful of fries. "Bullshit." Bryce looked back and saw the woman with the ass walking around the corner. He shook his head and opened the bag then looked in. Slowly he took the burger from it, unwrapped it and looked at it. "What is this?" "Double cheese, with onions." Kale said as he chomped down on his own burger out. "No onions," Bryce sighed. "No fucking onions. I hate fucking onions." He threw it back into the bag and opened the door. What a night, he thought. Horny as fuck and now given fucking onions to eat. What a fucking night. Bryce slammed the door closed and walked to the front door of the small all-night diner. Walking in he saw the queue of people and only two people working in the kitchen behind the counter. He sighed to himself. What a fucking night.... The Cave. "Here's the rules, Princess." the grinning maniac told the bound Kacey Sutton as he walked over to the wrecked computer and took a revolver from the bag he had kept the iron bar in. Smiler walked back, emptying the chamber of bullets then sliding one round back in. He pressed the muzzle of the gun against the still head of Jane Gregg as she lay on the floor. Kacey sobbed as she saw the bloodied mess that was the Police Commissioner. Smiler looked down and shrugged. "She's still kicking, I can see the blood bubbling from her nose. Or was that her mouth, I'm not too sure. Her make-up's a little fucked up." he tapped the gun on the blood-matted hair. "Now I'm thinking a little Russian Roulette. Start with one bullet and I'll ask the question. You tell a lie and I pull the trigger. But if it is the lucky bullet we don't want the game over too soon." Smiler stood up straight. Then pushed the muzzle where the base of Gregg's spine was. "Let's start here." "....no..." Kacey wept. "Did you kill Scarlett Queen?" Smiler asked. "...Please stop..." Kacey begged. "Wrong answer." he said and pulled the trigger. CLICK! "Lucky day, Commish. Shall we try again?" "I DIDN'T KILL HER!" Kacey screamed at him. "Lie, Princess." Smiler said and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked empty. "You sick fuck..." Kacey muttered. "Wrong answer again," the smiling manic sighed and pulled the trigger again. BLAMMMM......! The gunshot echoed around the cave and Jane Gregg gasped in a pained cry. Kacey blinked in shock as she watched Smiler tutting away to himself as he opened the chamber and slipped a second round in. "Guess she'll drive a wheelchair from now on." Smiler said. "Never did Ironside any harm." "Yo..." Kacey shut her mouth as she got the `game' now. Smiler pressed the gun against the Jane's spine in the middle of her back. "Let's play again." he grinned. Diner. Evening. Bryce stood in the queue and finally had enough. The grumbling was getting louder. He looked around the place and saw no other member of staff except for the two harrassed boys working the kitchen. "Hey!" he called to them. "Is it just you two?" "The rest are on a break." one of the boys said weakly. "Where, fucking disneyland?" one of the customers said. "Good question." Bryce agreed. "Where are they?" "I was told..." the boy shrugged. "Fuck this." Bryce broke way from the queue and marched up to the door that said `STAFF ONLY'. He slammed his hand onto it and walked through. The small corridor looked empty but he walked up to the first door on the left and shoved it open. The two members of staff shot to their feet. One no older than the boys in the kitchen, the other was a girl. She slid in front of the boy and licked her lips. "Christ," Bryce shook his head, before saying, "The manager." "That's me..." the boy offered and saw Bryce looking at his lap. "Get it zipped." Bryce told the boy and pointed at the limp, pale dick that was hanging there. The so-called-manager put his dick away then zipped himself up. "Fuck's sake." Bryce shook his head then looked at him. "Now get out there and start serving." He wondered how easy it was to become a manager for this place. The boy was spotty and didn't look old enough to shave. He moved aside and let the `manager' out. The girl followed him but Bryce stopped her. "How old are you?" he asked. "Eighteen." she told him. The noise of complaints was coming from the kitchen. She pointed to the door. "I should..." "What were you two doing?" Bryce asked, looking at her. The name badge said Trisha. She was nice looking girl. Probably working her way through college, he thought. "Nothing." Trisha said. "He your boyfriend?" She shook her head. "Just your boss?" Trisha shrugged. "Who you give blowjobs to?" Her face went red. "I should go." she said, not meeting his eyes. "Fuck `em." he smiled. She looked at him. "What?" "Fuck `em." Bryce said again. "Somebody fucked my order up. I'm looking for compensation." "I..." Trisha looked down and saw the bulge in his trousers. "What kind of compensation?" Bryce shrugged. He looked up and down. "I got a fucking hard-on you wouldn't believe. How about you help me and I forget about complaining about this place's service...." Trisha stepped back and sat on the toilet seat as Bryce stepped forward. She put a hand on the bulge. "You promise?" she said. "I'm a cop, honey." he smiled. "Cross my heart." She umzipped his trousers and smiled as he pulled his cock out. "So far, so good." Bryce closed his eyes as he felt her lips and tongue wrap around his hardening shaft. He held her head and gently began to move his hips bac and forth, easing his cock further into Trisha's mouth. "Trish--" he heard the `manager' behind him and looked back. "She's busy, zitface! Fuck off!" he told the boy. "Y-Y-Yes, sir..." Bryce could have laughed as he watched the spotty little asshole run back into the kitchen. Looking dow he saw her watching him. There was smile in her eyes. He gripped her hair with one hand and held the base his cock with the other. "Just keep sucking, baby." Bryce smiled. She sucked him back into her mouth, not taking her eyes from his.... Beach Mansion. Front Lawn. Evening. The sleek car skidded to a halt and Corrine Allen and Danielle Holmes leapt out. Corrine ran up the small flight of stairs that led to the front door but was stopped by Danielle. Corrine looked on as Danielle held up the small pistol she had brought with her. "Where did you..." Corrine said. "I work for the cops, Corrine." Danielle told her as she made sure the safety was off. "I go first." Corrine let the black woman go ahead and the two women saw the door was ajar. Danielle motioned to Corrine to stop and stood to one side as she pushed the door open by pushing on a lower part. The gunshot exploded against the double doors and Danielle threw herself back then smashed her way in rolling onto the floor. Corrine gently crept forward and saw the shotgun pointed at the front door then at Danielle who was standing against the other door, both hands around the pistol. "You--" "Shh!" Danielle told her and pointed to the wall panel that was wide open. It was then that Corrine saw the damage around the hallwway. The table had been smashed and day-glo smiley faces were painted all over the walls. She looked to Danielle who was on tip-toe as she made her way out of the shotgun's line of fire to had for the open wall panel, first stopping as she motioned to the floor between the open doors to the main room. Corrine saw the wire that was stretched between them. Danielle swept her own gun forward, stopping with a grunt. Corrine followed Danielle and saw the assault rifle tat had been set up like a shotgun. Danielle looked to Corrine. The black woman turned and started making her way to the open wall panel. "Wait." Corrine whispered. "There's another way." Danielle looked at her. "I built them." Corrine said. "There a way down through here." Danielle watched as Corrine stepped over the wire and ran around the main room to the assault rifle. She quickly removed the magazine feed and jerked the wire out. Then Danielle stood up, keeping an eye on the open panel as Corrine felt her way down a section of the wider wall in the room. another panel silently popped open and swung back into darkness. A dim light went on and Danielle walked up to the new doorway and looked down at the barely lit stone steps. She looked at Corrine and saw the sheepish expression on her face, wondering if it was guilt. Danielle put a finger to her lips telling Corrine to stay quiet then started walking down the stairway. Corrine followed her as quiet as she could. Patrol car. Evening. Bryce wandered out with his burger and got back into the patrol car. Kale was finished with his burger and fries. "You look kinda relaxed. You gonna say a fucking queue?" Kale said. "Nope," Bryce smiled before taking a bit from the burger. He swallowed it. "Damn, forgot the coffee." he said. "Could you go and get me some, ask for Trisha." "The hell with you," Kale said. "Dude," Bryce took another bite. "Trust me. Ask for Trisha" "Unit 14, come in." the radio called out. Kale reached for it but Bryce stopped him. "The hell with that, just go ask for Trisha." he said again. "If this is one of your jokes," Kale warned as he got out and headed into the diner. "Unit 14, come in please. Come i--" Bryce switched the radio off as he looked to the diner and saw his partner being let in through to the staff door by Trisha. "Don't say I do nothing for you, man." he said and started on his burger.... The Cave. Smiler was waiting. He had heard the shotgun and ran to the bag, getting an small machine pistol from it. He ran around and backed into the shadows around the corner from the stairway that led up to the hallway. He made sure the extended magazine was in the gun and stepped to the side, aiming it at head level. "Come and get it, little piggies." he muttered under his breath, smiling as he heard the sobs from Kacey. "Come and save the Princess." The engine roar filled the cave before Smiler saw it. He looked in surprise as the van roared from the tunnel and braked. The driver's door slammed opened and NightLord stepped out firing. Smiler ran but cried out in pain as a bullet hit his shoulder. NightLord marched towards the computer, stepping over Kacey and changing the magazine of the gun to a full one then pointed it as he made his way around the side of the smashed computer. He bent down and dragged Smiler into the open. NightLord jammed the gun between Smiler's eyes. "What did you do?" he demanded. Smiler clutched his shoulder and smiled. "Chaos, anarchy and a little Russian Roulette." he replied. "Did you forget the punch?" NightLord pulled the hammer back. "There's no chaos. No anarchy." he said. "They're fucking their brains out, but that it." Smiler blinked and looked at him puzzled. "Nothing is happening, you grinning idiot!" NightLord yelled. "That means you fucked up not me." Smiler started to grin again, coughing as he shifted slightly. "You made the `nightmare powder'" "You changed it," NightLord stated. "I changed nothing!" Smiler gasped in pain at his shoulder again. "The bombs were mine, the drug was yours. You always were a third rate bad guy!" "I was--" "You were a joke!" Smiler yelled at him. "The rest of us laughed at ya! The cops laughed at ya! You couldn't frighten a fly from a flytrap." NightLord shook his head. "You piece of --" The gunshot echoed around the cave and NightLord gasped as her felt his leg going dead. He saw the black woman walking towards him and lifted his gun but she fired again, this time hitting him in his shoulder. He fell backwards with a cry of confusion and pain. Corrine ran to Kacey then saw the bloody mess of Jane Gregg. "Holy..." she gasped. "Help her," Kacey sobbed. "Danielle!" Corrine yelled as she crawled over to Jane Gregg. The woman's eyes were half-shut. "DANIELLE!" she yelled again. Danielle picked up both guns from NightLord and Smiler and ran over, keeping them covered then saw Jane Gregg. "Oh, Jesus..." she gasped. "Oh, sweet fucking jesus..." "Help her..." Kacey said again, rocking back and forth.... Beach Mansion. Hallway. Evening. The black man had stopped the red sports car behind the one already there. IronRod stood in the door way looking at the shotgun. The cry echoed up from the open wall panel. "Danielle....!" IronRod quickly ran past the shotgun and headed down the stone steps. The Cave. "What..." Danielle knelt down and looked at the broken figure of Jane Gregg. "We need 911." she told Corrine who was kneeling on Gregg's other side. "What did he do?" She said and stood up. "Corrine, call 911!" Danielle yelled and felt the gun in her hand with it's satisfying weight. "You sick, twisted, bastards." she muttered then saw the tall, dark figure on the stone steps. "I told you he was still alive!" she yelled at IronRod. "I FUCKING TOLD YOU HE WAS ALIVE!" IronRod looked over the scene and then at the chuckling form of smiler. Danielle lifted her pistol and was beginning to charge to where Smiler lay. IronRod caught her and prized the gun from her hand. "Just see to..." he said and looked at where Gregg lay. Corrine looked lost as she bent over Jane. "Danielle..." Corrine said weakly. "She...." Danielle ruched back over and knelt down. She looked into Jane Gregg's face and her now lifeless eyes. Danielle and Corrine's eyes started to fill with tears. Kacey's weak voice made them look over and she understood. She went into a ball, sobbing to herself as Corrine rushed over and started working on the bonds that held her. IronRod walked over to smiler and looked down at the grinning man. "I killed you." he said quietly. Smiler started laughing. "I got better," he said. "But, seriously, you know how many sickos there are out there, who like to dress up and be somebody, like a queen or a princess... Or a joker?" IronRod said nothing, just kept looking. "Lots and lots." Smiler told him. "Maybe I'm someone else. Maybe I'm dead. Maybe this is someone's huge dream. Maybe I'm just another fake Smiler. Maybe you did kill the real one. Who knows?" The gunshot boomed and Smiler jerked to the side, a look of surprise on his face. He and IronRod looked to where the shot came from. Kacey was slowly getting to her feet, the gun that NightLord had in her hand. Smiler saw the blood on his chest. "Oooooh," Smiler gasped, gripping the left side of his chest as blood leaked out. "Killer's back..." "I didn't kill her! She left!" Kacey told him and pulled the tigger again. And again and again. IronRod stepped back as Kacey emptied the gun into Smiler. "DIE, YOU SICK FUCKING...." She stood there, the clicking empty as the pulled the trigger. Then collapsed onto her knees and began to sob again. Corrine went to her and took the gun off her then put her arms around the young woman. "BOOOOM!" Smiler's voice filled the cave and everyone looked at the TV screen. Smiler's face filled it with a wide grin. "If you look at the city, you should see a rosy glow in the sky. That was part of the Strang Gas Plant. If the plan has gone according to... plan. Now let's start the clock again!" They watched as te screen changed to a series of numbers. "Thirty minutes and counting..." Smiler's voice teased... IronRod turned and rushed up the stairs. Running through the hallway he looked out at the night skyline. In one part of the city there was a large glow. In the direction of where the gas plant was. IronRod turned and ran back down to the cave. Danielle was looking at him. He leapt onto Smiler and saw the light in the eyes fading. The grin stayed there. "See... You... Roun'..." Smiler breathed. "Nigger..." IronRod watched as Smiler's head slumped back, the smile finally slipping. He looked up as he heard the low chuckle and saw NightLord. "What the fuck you lookin' at..." NightLord coughed. "Get me a fuckin' ambulance..." "Danielle," IronRod said. "Get them upstairs." He turned and saw Danielle still with Gegg's body. "Danielle!" he snapped. "Get the others upstairs!" The black woman muttered and looked at Jane Gregg's body one last time then stood up and went to Kacey and Corrine. She coaxed them to their feet and led the women upstairs. IronRod looked down at NightLord. "Thirty minutes to what?" he asked. "I need a... an ambulance!" NightLord demanded. "I'm dying here!" "Thirty minutes to what!" The wounded man coughed up some blood. "I'm dying, man..." he said. IronRod stamped his foot onto the injured shoulder. NightLord screamed as the pain exploded. "THIRTY MINUTES TO WHAT???" IronRod yelled..... "AAAHHhhhh....I...." NightLord gasped as the black man took his foot off the wound. "I got fuckin... rights..." NightLord screamed in pain as IronRod pressed down the wound again..... Alleyway. Night. Helen knew she should be screaming. She should be yelling for help as the two big, black strangers were kicking the shit of her date. His name was Steven and Helen couldn't believe she wasted a new outfit on him. He'd been a dick all night. And for him she'd spent money on an expensive top and skirt, she thought. If it wasn't trying to be the big shot in the restaurant or the act that got him where he was right now. Telling two big, black security men on the nightclub door that he could get them fired if he wasn't let in. Two minutes later and two big black motherfuckers were showing Steven how much influence he had. She should be running, Helen told herself. Should be.... "What the fuck..." a deep voice said from behind her. Helen felt a deep tremble in her belly and just knew he was black before she looked back and saw another big, black motherfucker standing there. This once was wearing a suit. "I said, the fuck!" he yelled and the other two stopped. "Shitbag was givin' us dis." one of the black men said. "Shitbag doin' jus' that." the other one said. As she watched those black men land more kicks into the dick all she could think of was the huge bulge down the front of the suit trousers. "Shitbag's learned his lesson." the new arrival told them and she saw them back off. She knew she should check on him, demand they get an ambulance, the cops, anyone but Helen couldn't take her yes from the muscles that were barely held under those tight t-shirts. The three black man had not looked at her once and felt a bit of anger. The third man walked past her and looked at... What was his name? "Get a car and dump the asshole at a hospital." the man said then turned and looked at her. "Ma'am." he said. "I...." she started but felt her mouth dry up. "This asshole with you?" he asked. Confused she looked at her date then back at the strong bodies of the security men and the man who was obviously their boss. "Fuck, no!" she said. "Well, picked him up and well..." The black man in the suit looked back to the others. "Get the fuckin' garbage out of here!" he told them and Helen watched as the two black man picked her asshole-of-a-date up and took him out of the alley. "You need to be more choosy, baby." he told her and started back inside. Helen stopped him, making an effort not to look down. "Could I get in?" she smiled nervously. He stopped and looked at her. His eyes scanned up and down her body and she felt very nerve in her body flare up. "we got rules..." he shrugged and Helen put a hand on his arm. "And rules...." he continued. "Rules can be..." she smiled. "Bent?" "Bent?" Helen shrugged. "I'll be honest. I was hoping for something `more' tonight." she said. "Something more," he repeated, not pushing her off. "More." Helen smiled and licked her lips. It had been a few week since she'd had any fun in the bedroom and hoped that asshole would have delivered. But, the small voice in her head was telling her, she should walk away, call the cops, call someone. That voice was getting smaller. Another one was getting louder. A voice that was telling she needed to get some fun. The deep voice of the black man in the suit had given that voice more strength. She could feel the tingle between her legs. The black man just smiled at her. "More..." she said again, this time undoing a couple of buttons on the top. * It had been a few years since she'd done this to get into a club. Over ten years from her teenage years when she had, occasionally, given a handjob or, once, a blowjob get into a club. Now she was that age again, haunched down and looking incredulously at the huge black snake in her hands. The man was fucking HUGE! Two hands long with some to spare. His balls seemed to swell up when she pulled them from the trousers. How much cum, she wondered.... "Tell you what," he told her. "If you can swallow that whole thing, you can get in everywhere, VIP, the whole place." Helen gulped and loked up at him. "Everywhere?" she said. He smiled. "Everywhere, baby. I'll throw in drinks for free." Her pussy started to throb as Helen realised she was slowly beginning to stroke the huge, thick shaft in her hands. Not taking her eyes from his she stuck her tongue out and tasted the the slit on the head of his cock. Then slowly opened her mouth and pushed the head in. Christ, he was thick. She kept looking up as she pushed forward and felt it sliding over her tongue. As Helen felt the tip come to the back of her throat she gagged slightly and realised there was still more cock waiting to enter her lips. "...mmmhhggg..." He smiled down at her then stroked her head. "You can do it, honey." he told her. Relax, she told herself. Relax and just open your throat.... "...hhhgmmm...." Helen gagged as she forced her head forward and felt the thick head of the black cock pushing into her throat. "...hhggh!" "All the way to the balls, baby." the black man gasped. Helen slid her hands around his hips and grasped his ass. She felt the hardness of muscles and suddenly thought how good it would feel those muscles pounding into her. She felt two strong hands cup the back of her head and start pushing. "...mmmmggghhh...." "All the way, baby," he said. Helen suddenly coughed and gagged but the cock didn't budge. The two hands grabbed her hair then spread out and she felt his hips pushing forward towards her. "..GGHhhh..." "More, baby..." "Gggghh!" "You can do it..." "Hhhggg..." "All of it," "...HHHhhhhgggg...." Helen bent forward, realising it was the only way she would fit the whole thing in. Suddenly she felt the tickle of his pubic hairs on her throat. So close, she thought. So fucking close.... "HAH!" he gasped. She felt the shaft forcing her throat open. The two hands were gripping her head and he started thrusting into her face. Suddenly her nose was crushed against him and the two huge, full balls were flat against her chin. "Hah...! Hah...!" He was grunting as she felt him fucking her face. The air had finally ran out from her lungs and Helen was gasping and gagging. Her chest and face burned but the black man didn't let go her head. He didn't stop thrusting against her face, grinding against her. "....gggggg..." "All of it, bitch!" he said and pressing against her hard. "AAHHHHhhhhh...." She felt the explosion in her throat as the thick, hot cum flooded her throat. She was drowning in it before she felt the thick cum back up till it spilled from her lips and dripped down. The black man roughly pulled his cock from her mouth and yanked the coughing, gasping white woman's head back by the hair. She knew deep down that he was the boss. "Well done," he smiled down at her. "You're in." Helen finally got control of herself and wiped her mouth and chin with a her hand. She licked the cum-smeared palm and savoured the taste. The looked up and smiled her thanks. She stood up and found herself being taken by the hand through the emergency door into the club. The first things she felt was the heat of the place then she heard the moans. Then as the black man led her into the main room she stopped. Te dance floor was a sea of bodies. Naked, heaving, thrusting bodies. The throbbing between her legs became harder as she watched men and women fucking in every way possible. The beat of the music was accompanied by those moans and she saw the origin. A young woman, naked was bent over the turntable as the DJ slammed his cock into her from behind. Her moans were being broadcast to the whole club. The black man pulled Helen across the room and through a second set of doors were she saw two more powerful black security men on either side. In front of each of them was a young clubgoer, on her knees, sucking and licking on each man's erect cock. The men nodded to the boss and he took Helen past them. "Welcome to the VIP lounge," he smiled and took her through a second set of doors. On the small stage at one end three white women were on all fours as behind them three black men were slamming into them hard. A naked blonde woman was walking up and down the front of the stage, cheering and clapping them on. She was carrying a microphone. "YES, FUCK THOSE BITCHES!" the blonde yelled into the micrphone. The centre of the room was empty but for the brunette on her back, her legs spread wide for the black man on top of her and thrusting away. Around the sides of the room the various tables were busy with humping. sucking groups. Helen noticed all the men were black. The women were black, white and asian. A roar came from the centre and Helen saw the black man rearing up. She could see his cock in her mind's eye, buried deep in that young pussy, pumping it full of hot, thick black cum.... "ANOTHER VIRGIN NO MORE!" the blonde yelled out as the audience cheered. Suddenly one of the men on the stage yelled out and sank back. He stood up and Helen saw his cock, still hard, glistening with cum juices. There was no condom. He'd filled her up with his cum. He made his way off stage to cheers and helen saw the young woman in the centre was opening up for another black man. "Hold on, people!" the blonde said and put the microphone to the woman, a redhead, in the middle of the stage who was now full of cum. "COME ON, FUCKERS!" she grinned. "How many so far?" the blonde asked. "That was number FUCKING TWELVE!" the woman yelled out. "THIRTEEN! I WANT THIRTEEN!" The blonde stood up. "WHO WA--" A young black man raced up to the stage. He was already naked and hard. ""NUMBER THIRTEEN!" the blonde cheered as she held his hand up. "What's your name?" "JEZUUUUHHHHZZ!!" one of the other women cried out, bucking and shaking. The redhead looked angrily at her as she sat kneeling. She lay back and spread her legs, patting her moist slit. "THAT BITCH ISN'T WINNING! I'M THREE ORGASMS IN FRONT! MAKE ME CUM, NIGGA!" she yelled and the black man was between her legs in a second. Helen was pulled away to the bar where the boss gave her her first drink. She downed the champagne and smiled at him. Another yell from the stage told her someone had finished. Suddenly the boss nodded to her and headed to the door. "Your not going..." she said. "I'm working, baby." he said. Helen turned and found herself looking at two naked black males at a table. Under it were two naked white asses wiggling back and forth. "A little over-dressed, ain't you?" a deep voice said and Helen turned back. The black man was a nude as the rest of them. His cock at half-mast. "Just got here." she said and smiled. "Hi, honey." a black woman came behind him and looked Helen up and down. There was a wedding ring on each of them. "You're a sweet-looking piece. And still got your clothes on." "My wife likes to watch." he said. "At the start." the black woman added. What the fuck was happening, Helen wondered as she looked up and down the naked black couple. There was another cry from stage as another load of hot, black cum filled wet, white pussy. Was this place a sex club? "You with anyone?" he asked. Helen shook her head. "They got private rooms here as well." the black woman said, walking around so she was behind Helen. "Just be the three of us..." "I've never... I'm not..." Helen said. "With a woman..." The black woman suddenly put her arms around Helen. Her hands slid up and cupped her breasts. "It takes a woman to know how to really make a woman cum. And it makes him so fucking hard...." Helen saw the half-mast black cock was becoming more full-mast.... "FUUUUCK!" came a cry from the centre of the room. "Unless you'd like an audience...." the black woman whispered and nodded to the centre where the young woman was slowly turning over, gasping for breath. Helen's pussy was on fire. She kept looking at that black cock getting harder and bigger in front of her and wanted to feel it inside her, pounding, slamming, thrusting.... But in public? In front of all those people? The black woman gently squeezed and rubbed her breasts, twisting her nipples. Helen closed her eyes and moaned softly. Then felt lips on her and opened her eyes to see the black man in front of her, his lips brushing against hers. She nearly came right then and kissed him back. The kiss was broken back and Helen opened her eyes as she was pushed against the bar. The black woman pressed her body to Helen's then kissed her. "Well?" the woman asked suddenly and Helen looked deep into her eyes. "....yes..." she gasped. "...but... But in a room..." "Oh, baby..." the woman grinned. She looked over Helen's shoulder and reached around. Helen saw the key in the black woman's hand. The black couple led her to a dark corner where she saw a curtained-off door. Opening it, she saw the corridor with a half-dozen doors on either side. One of the doors opened and three black men walked out, smiles on their faces. As Helen walked past the open door she saw the naked redhead on the bed in the room. She was cum-stained mess but smiling as she rubbed her trimmed pussy. The couple took Helen to the metal door at the end of the corridor and pressed the button next to it. The door opened and they stepped into the elevator. Helen saw there were four floors. As the doors closed she saw the black couple eyeing her. The man was stroking his hard cock and she felt her pussy throbbing in anticipation. She could imagine how wet she was. The doors opened and she saw the long corridor of more doors. She followed them until they stopped at a door. The woman unlocked it and stood aside as Helen saw inside. It looked like any hotel room she'd been in. "After you, baby." the naked black woman smiled. Helen looked at the man and his cock. It looked so hard and long and thick.... She walked into the room, listening to the black couple following her.... Beach Mansion. Main Room. Night. The screams were audible even next to the window. The glow from burning gas plant rose and fell. Kacey sobbed. Danielle and Corrine held her between them. "It had to be done." Danielle told Kacey, looking at Corrine. "What he did...." "I... I..." Kacey said between sobs. "I didn't kill Alison." "We know." Corrine told her. "That was..." she looked at Danielle. Danielle stared at Corrine then lifted Kacey's head and looked at the young woman. "You did what was necessary. You did something what Alison refused to. You don't lock up a mad dog, you kill it before it kills you. That sick bastard should have been put down years ago." "He just kept hitting and hitting and then... The smile as he..." Kacey started and Danielle pulled her closer. "You put the dog down, that all you need to think about." Danielle told her. "It ain't gonna be biting anyone else. No-one else." "How is she?" IronRod said from the door as he worked his fingers over the cellphone's keys. "She'll live." Danielle said. "She's a tough one." Looked at them, then nodded. "Good." he said then put the phone to his ear. "D'you get the list? Good.... Yes. it's time." Danielle looked at him. Then turned to Corrine. The white woman seemed to swallow then took over holding onto Kacey as Danielle stood up. IronRod looked at her. "It's not over yet." TO BE CONTINUED....

(Adults Only. Copyright@Rama. 2013) Beach Mansion. Day. The mansion didn't look any different. The tall, dark and imposing facade still looked as cold to Kacey as it had the day she had walked away from it. Funny how tings change. She could remember how excited she'd been the first day she'd seen it. It had been a castle to her younger eyes. But then, things change. Appearances aren't what they seem. And people lie. Kacey had been brought here to help her, but instead she had been turned into a soldier. A soldier in a war that could never be won. The grass around the mansion had been cut as the grounds were still looked after by the company. But the building itself had been left alone. "I've never been inside a mansion." Danielle said from the driver's side of the car. Kacey just sat there in the passenger seat looking at the building that she once called home. "You want to see the inside?" Kacey asked, failing to hide the nerves at being back here. "You'll be disappointed." "What, a place like this?" The young white woman fingered the long, black metal key. A thought hit her. Could she remember the code to shut off the alarm? Three-eight-h-g... Three-Eight-d-e... Kacey slipped a hand into her coat pocket and took out the folded sheet of paper. She opened it and looked at the note. The words meant nothing now. It was an apology that was worthless. She turned it over and found the code on the back. "You okay?" Danielle said quietly. Kacey looked at the black woman as she stuffed the old note back into her pocket. The feeling of disappontment was welling up again. "If you want to wait until Corinne comes back from Italy..." Kacey shook her head. "No." Corinne had had to leave on business. She'd be back in time for the Kacey's first board meeting. "No. I should have done this sooner." Kacey opened the door. "You want to look inside?" Furrier Apartment Complex. Day. It had happened again. Another blank hole in her memory to wonder over. Laura Petry kept the ripped blouse closed and had been thankful her skirt was in one piece this time. The first couple of times she had been near naked and somehow had managed to make her way home without being seen by anyone she knew. She had learned how to handle these situations now. She had thought about calling the police but in all honesty she didn't `feel' violated. Strangely her body had felt.... Yes. It had felt satisfied. There was a calmness in her mind as she had wondered about what happened to her. Laura had even figured a way to make sure she could get back into her place now. She kept a key behind a false bit of the doorframe. It wasn't obvious but it meant she shouldn't be locked out. But so far she had never lost her own keys. Yet. The memory blanks had only really been happening for the last six months. She could be at her desk in the lawyers' office where she worked, or sitting in a bar, or just relaxing in a bath and the next thing she knew she was snapping awake somewhere else in the city with her clothes ripped or near naked. Laura hd thought about going to a shrink but the truth was she felt a little ashamed of what she might have to tell them. She thought she knew what was happening. It came back to her in her dreams possibly. This time she had been having a quiet drink at a bar with some of the other lawyers when it had hit her. Laura got the key from her bag and unlocked the door. Slipping into her apartment, she let go of the blouse and sighed with relief. The torn blouse hung open, her bare, white breasts gently rose and fell as she took some deep breaths. Looking down she muttered a curse under her breath at the sight of the ruined top. She liked this one, too. And what the fuck happened to her bra? Beach Mansion. Main lounge. Day. The secret panel was open. It was one of the various doors that opened to passages that led down to the cave network under the grounds, where Kacey had spent a lot of time growing up or it felt like she did. The blackness of the stone passage beyond looked cold. It seemed to fit the way she felt about those years now. All wasted putting on stupid-looking suits and following a fanatic. How many times had she nearly been killed? Too many. And for what thanks? Nothing. They had to stay `secret'. And what had the effect on her been? She could take on a grinning maniac with enough weapons on them to level a building but put her in a social function or even simply walking down the street and she couldn't stop feeling nervous. Kacey heard the footsteps coming down the stairs in the main hallway. "Jesus, it's big." she heard Daniella Holmes voice as she hit the button behind the bookcase again and watched the door silently slide shut. She walked into the hall and smiled weakly as she saw the black woman at the bottom of the stairs. It was more like a hall to Danielle's eyes as Kacey led her into the room. White dust sheets covered everything. The mantle above the large, empty fireplace was empty. There was spaces on the walls where there used to be paintings. The more valuable items had been moved into secure storage. Now it just looked empty. Souless. Cold, even. It felt cold. Kacey muttered something. "Hmm?" Danielle said as she looked out the tall windows that stopped a metre from the ceiling. The land around the house looked so quiet and lifeless. "Just a house." Kacey was repeating to herself. "It's just a house." "Must have been a bitch to heat." Kacey snorted. "We were...." She about to say `always in the cave' but stopped herself. Danielle didn't know and besides that was a lifetime ago now. Or it felt like it. "We were never that bothered about it." she said instead. Danielle turned to her. "So any idea of what you're going to do with it?" Kacey sighed and looked about. "Not a fucking clue." she said finally and looked over as she heard Danielle gasp. There was a grin on the black woman's face. "My god, you swore." she said. ` "Oh," Kacey felt her face burn up in embarrassment. "I'm sorry." "Don't be." Danielle told her as she walked around the room. "It means you're human. I work with cops, you want to hear those cocksuckers." Kacey smiled, them laughed. The first time she'd really let go. "Jesus." she said. "I can't believe I wasted so many years here." Danielle walked up to the young woman. "Look." she said, putting her hands on Kacey's shoulders. "I don't know what Alison's problem was. I know about the parents dying thing. But you can't let that affect you. " Danielle looked around. "It's just a house." she said. "A big fucker, but it's just a house. And it's all yours." Kacey looked at the black woman. There was a warm in her eyes. "What you need to do relax and learn to enjoy things. You could try shoes." "I don't know..." Kacey smiled and felt a finger on her lips. She felt a charge as the dark skin stayed there and looked into the soft, warm eyes looking at her. "I got the next few days off. Tonight we are going out and have some fun." Danielle looked at her. "And you are going to do what you are told. Or else you will be going across Auntie Danielle's knee." Kacey blinked as she resisted the urge to open her mouth and suck that finger in. "Yes, auntie." she smiled. "I think we can go now." Laura Petry's Apartment. Furrier Apartment Complex. Day. The shower had felt good. Laura felt clean again as she dried her chestnut brown hair. The phone had three messages from the office. She was running late again and would miss the first two appointments. That meant another talking to from the dick in charge of the accounts. She could hear it already. Clients, yadda-yadda-yadda... Professionalism, yadda... Must do better, etc, etc.... What could she tell him? Had a little black-out, sorry. I slept in after.... After what? What the hell did she do after it hit her? Beach Mansion. Day. "Any ideas?" Danielle asked as she started the car engine. "Of?" Kacey asked, looking at the mansion from next to Danielle. "The house, what you'll do with it." The black woman eased the car forward and turned the wheel. "It's too big to go to waste." "I don't know." Danielle turned the car round in the wide driveway and started heading towards the distant gate beyond the trees. "Children's home, something like that?" "Maybe."Kacey was still looking at it in the wing mirror as Daniella picked up speed. Going home, Kacey thought. Not there. Home. She didn't see the figure watching the car leaving from the large lounge windows. She didn't see him lick his lips then smile as the two words left his mouth. `Hellooooo, Princess....' Laura Petry's Apartment. Furrier Apartment Complex. Evening. She slammed the door closed when she got home. Final warning, that little turd had told her. Laura threw her briefcase down the hallway and kicked the wall. He wasn't even a good manager, never mind a decent lawyer and he was telling her how to do things! She had brought in money into the firm and what had he brought, other than problems for everyone else with his power trips. Maybe she should just quit and set up on her own. Get some help for the black-outs and become her own boss. Screw all the little pricks like him. Laura headed into the front room and poured herself a glass of vodka then added a twist of lime to it. Emptying the glass she started making a second one when the thought came to her. "Yeah, why not." she said to the room. "Fuck the lot of them." The back of Harley's Club. Midtown. Evening. Jessica Anderson had never felt so horny in all her young life. She had sneaked out the back of the club and was waiting for the young stud who had caused her pussy to start getting wet. She had felt him rubbing up against her as she danced with Mel, her best friend. She should have pulled away but didn't as she felt his hands on her hips and felt so naughty as he began dry-humping her on the dance floor. She looked back and saw the smooth black face. The urge to kiss him came over her and she turned back to see Mel was getting similar treatment from another black boy. The stud behind her was getting hard. She could feel him through the pants. It would her 21st birthday on the coming Wednesday. Mel was pushing herself against her black stud and had her hands behind her right where his crotch would be. They had come prepared tonight. On the pill and a couple of condoms each that had been Mel's idea of an unofficial present. Go out, pick up a couple of hunks and fuck their brains out, she said. There had been some attempts from wannabe-Romeos so far but nothing that got the girls' juices going till now. Jessica pressed herself against her hunk, letting him smell her perfume. `Noire' had been another present to herself. Not the most expensive but nice enough and it seemed to get plenty of attention in her direction. She felt his lips on her neck and turned round to let her lips kiss his. His hands slid down her body and cupped her buttocks. She moaned into his mouth and looked into his dark brown eyes. Looking back she saw Mel wink at her then be led off into the crowd. She'd seen that look on her friend's face before. It said one thing; gonna get laid, see ya... She looked back at her black hunk of man and put her arms around his neck, putting her lips to his ear. "I am so fucking wet right now," she whispered and felt him pull her crotch against his hardness. "Be out the back." he said into her ear and the feeling of his hot breath on her skin sent her senses into meltdown. "Five minutes." They pulled apart and she watched him move off. Jessica quickly headed for the back door. And that was were she was now. She was checking her cell phone, sending Mel a really dirty text about what was going to happen to her when she heard the back door open. The black hunk fell through followed by three white men. She saw the knife in one man's hand and opened her mouth to scream when she was grabbed by another of the men. She recognised one of them as being a guy she and Mel had told to back off an hour ago. He kicked the black man in the back and she heard him groan in pain. "Go ahead and scream, he gets his throat slit." the white man told her stepping over the black man who was holding his torso and moaning painfully. "Nobody." the white man said to Jessica. "No-body ever says no to me!" Jessica shook her head. "Ple--" He grabbed her throat and and pressed his face to hers. "Shut the fuck up." he told her and motioned to the third man who handed him the knife. Jessica was shaking as she felt the point running down her cheek. He pulled her face to his as she heard the dull thuds of kicks and cries of pain from the ground. "A few drinks that was all, then a quick fuck, whatever." he sneered at her. "But you get all snooty and tell me no then choose to practically fuck him right there on the dance floor. I have had with sluts like you." Jessica yelped out as he grabbed her hair and jerked her further down the alley. He stopped and she felt the tears start as the knife was pushed down between her breasts. "I did--" she started to say but cried out as he twisted her hair painfully. "Shut up," he warned her and she felt the blade pressing against the flesh of her right breast. "Now you can strip or I can slice this dress off you, what do you want?" "I-I-I'll take it off...." Jessica said. "Go get the car." he called back. "We're going to a little party. Ain't we, baby?" Jessica started to shake her head and cry.... Commissioner's Office. ECPD Headquarters. Day. "...in yet another horrific attack and gang rape that left the victim in a serious condition and another person also hospitalised. Police have requested that anyone who saw anything should contect them urgently." the blonde news anchor said with a serious face. "Coming up, we will be talking about the worrying rise of attacks that have happened recently and asking just what is behind these horrifying occurances and what should be done about them...." Jane Gregg sighed as she turned the new TV off. She sat on the edge of her desk and looked out the window at the city skyline. There was another call from the mayor when she'd gotten into the office. Another veiled threat. What could she tell him, that people act like shit and they will always act like shit? How about that they were following several lines of inquiry? That might work for the press but the mayor? No way. After the disappearance of Scarlett Queen, she had expected things to get a little worse. But instead they got better. Much better. The police department was handling it all, as they should have been doing. Now things were going back to the ways they were. Attacks were up. Rapes were up. Racial incidents were up. Gun sales were rising as the police were being accused to not doing anything. But what could she do when officers came back with no witnesses and any suspects had to be released. It was the same across the board. Just cause TV cop show might solve a case in forty-five minutes by using forensic technology that actually didn't really exist outside of multi-million dollar labs doesn't mean every or even most cases get solved that way. How many times had she seen disbelieving looks on peoples face when she told them it took a couple of weeks to get forensic results back, not the length of a commercial break. "Commissioner?" Gregg walked around the desk and hit the button on the intercom. "Yes, Monica?" "Captain Daniels is here for his appointment." Richard Daniels, one of the departments shining stars. She had sent him to one of the worst performing precincts in the city with the simple intention of turning it around. So far he had been doing a fine job. Things were looking better across the board at the 12th precinct. "Send him in." she said, smiling for the first time all morning. 18th Precinct. Interview Room 04. Day. Laura sat and looked at the man on the other side of the desk. He was a thin man, his black hair was greying and receding. Not ugly but not handsome either. His name was Wallace Hollcroft. She'd tried to refuse the case when she looked at the file. She would be the third lawyer this asshole had in the three hours since he'd been arrested. Each time he'd come up with some kind of excuse to demand a new one. Four hours ago he had walked into the station and told the desk sergeant that he'd killed his `whore of a wife'. Cops had visited the apartment at the address he'd given and had found his wife, dead, and stuffed into the fridge in the kitchen. "Mr Hollcroft," Laura said, looking at the short reports in front of her. He'd told them to check the fridge as he didn't want her to `stink up the place'. Forensic people were going over the place but as he'd already admitted it, and the knife had been left in her. There wasn't a lot she could do. Odds on the fingerprints would just confirm everything. "Mr Hollcroft..." she said again. "She fucked a nigger." he said plainly. "You fucked a nigger?" Laura looked at him. "Excuse me?" He didn't move. "You ever fucked a nigger?" "I don't..." she shook her head, confused. "What do they teach you all in law school these days," Hollcroft muttered. "Have you ever spread those lily white legs of yours and let a dirty nigger inside your cunt? You understand that?" "I am not going to accept this behaviour." Laura told him and stood up. She picked up the file and pad in front of her and walked to the door. "That'll be a yes." she heard him say behind her as she opened the door. "You tell them I want a decent, white, male lawyer!" Outside she saw the three cops just looking at her. Three powerful-looking black officers. They seemed to give her a long look. She shrugged. "You heard him." she said and walked to where the toilets were. Corrine Allen's Apartment. Kacey's Room. Day. Kacey held up the short, silver dress against herself and looked in the mirror. It was short with two thin shoulder straps. Danielle had brought it back as a surprise. "It'll look good on you." she heard Danielle say and spun round. The black woman stood in the doorway. "Try it on properly then let me see. For a minute Kacey thought the black lesbian was going to wait and watch her undress but at the last second she closed the door, leaving Kacey alone. Kacey gently touched herself between the legs as she suddenly felt a little disappointed. She blinked clearing the feeling from her head. Danielle was a friend. She owed Corrine so much and needed to put the feelings away. Maybe getting out was the best idea. Go out and enjoy herself. She threw the silver dress on her bed and started to take her jeans and t-shirt off. 18th Precinct. Women's Toilets. day. Laura finished drying her hands and gave herself a look over in the mirror. Those cops were definitely giving her a look. What right had that little fuck have to talk to her that way? She could fuck anyone she wanted. Black, white, yellow with pink dots if she wanted. "Racist motherfucker." Laura turned to the voice and saw the black female cop by the door. "Hollcroft?" she asked. "Course." the officer walked to the mirror and looked herself over in the mirror. "The first lawyer was black. He didn't like that. The second was white guy who told him to take an insanity plea. Motherfucker did not like that either." "He admitted killing her." The black officer turned and Laura saw the name badge read `Meathers'. "I was one of the officers who found her. He butchered her and shoved her in the fridge like she was just meat. You don't want to see where he left the knife." She leaned back against the wall. " I don't know what he's trying to do. I say execute the motherfucker right now. It's all he deserves. Be thankful you're not handling this one." Meathers paused then pushed herself off the wall as she changed the subject. "You were in the Bar Ellis, weren't you? Three night ago?" Laura turned away, unsure. "Maybe." she said. "You were. Some of us were there as well." Officer Meathers walked up next to Laura and looked at her. "I saw you leave with those three guys." Officer Meathers smiled. "Three black guys...." Laura said nothing, just felt the familiar throb between her thighs as she just looked in the mirror. "Look, you want to show that sick fuck how worthless he is?" Laura looked at Meathers. Her eyes were blue and seemed to be looking deep into Laura. "I mean really show him. None of his rights will be breached. No-one's going to touch him." Meathers pointed to her head. "I mean get to that asshole up here." "What's the idea?" Laura asked. Corrine Allen's Apartment. Kacey stepped out and walked into the middle of the large front room of the apartment. The dress felt so light on her a she slowly spun round in front of Danielle. The black woman just looked up at her and smiled. "You look beautiful. We might need some security to keep those horny boys away from you." Danielle said. Kacey felt her cheeks burn as she blushed. "I don't know..." Danielle stood up and pushed Kacey's face up. Kacey felt herself being drawn to the smooth, black face that looked down at her. "I mean it. The only question is where do you want to go?" 18th Precinct. Interview Room 02. Day. Laura looked at the black man who sat on the other side of the desk. He was one of the cops she'd seen earlier. One of those strong-looking ones. She didn't look at the one-way mirror along one side of the room. A quick look at the camera in the upper corner of the room told her it wasn't recording, just as Meathers had promised. Both her and the female black cops had watched discreetly as Hollcroft had been dragged into the side room that was used to observation next to the interview room. The cop was already in the interview room when she went in. Hollcroft was right in that small observation room there now, handcuffed to a chair. "So you gonna get me off?" the black cop said. He was sitting back in the chair, his hands clasped in front of him. A big, black fucker of a man. The throbbing between her thighs had gotten more urgent. He was the `client', she was the lawyer. Simple. "Charges are bullshit." he told her. "Maybe." she said and licked her lips. God, she felt hot right now. Hot and horny. "No maybe about it." he smiled. "You see my friend?" "Yes, I saw the officer." "And?" "The price was a little high." "What, a little head is too high?" the `client' smiled. "Don't BS me, baby. I know you'll suck a black dick in a second. That's all you had to do. I know you did it, too. You got down on your knees and you sucked that brother's balls dry." Laura felt the urge growing between her legs. She saw the grin on the man as he had said it. She thought she heard a sound come from the other side of the mirror. "Maybe I did, but what can you give me?" she asked. He stood up and unzipped his pants. He looked at the camera then pulled the long, thick black cock from inside them. Laura gasped as she saw him hold it in his hand, seeming to balance it. The sight of the dark-skinned cock caused her to get wet. She bit her lip as he slowly started to stroke it. "The city's already paid you. I pay you this way. You ain't the first white bitch that's been paid this way." Laura couldn't stop looking at the black cock. It must have been eight or nine inches in length and even halfway hard yet. "Well, payment's up front of course." she said, standing up and feeling the juices dripping from her pussy. Laura walked around the desk and put her hand around the black man cock. She looked deep into his eyes as she began to pump it. The crash from the other side of the mirror was loud and she looked at herself. The expression on her face was of pure lust as she stood there with a growing black cock in her hand. The fight on the other side dulled down and carried on into the corridor. Laura hadn't let them cock go once as she looked back at her `client'. "You still want to get off?" she smiled at him. 18th Precinct. Stationary cupboard. "Huh... Huh... Huh...." Laura listened to the grunting in her ear as the black cop rammed his thick cock up her pussy. They were fucking against the metal shelves, his hands holding her up by her ass as she had her arms and legs firmly wrapped and locked around him. "Uuuuh, god, that is so fucking good!" she told him. "Uuuuh, fuck...." he moaned sinking as much cock into her as possible. "You want it?" She grinned feeling his cock deep inside her. "I want it." Laura gasped. Suddenly he lifted her off his cock and she felt herself being lowered down. She looked at him. "I want it, baby." she pouted. "And you'll get it." the black man grinned. "All over that pretty face of yours." Laura grinned at the the thought of getting his cum all over her face. She unlocked her legs and dropped down onto her knees, looking up at him. Laura reached for the shiny, wet and rock-hard cock but smiled as he slapped her hand away and grabbed her hair, pulling her heard back. "Hands behind you!" he ordered and Laura felt the thrill from the severity of his voice go right between her legs. She looked at him as he slowly started to pump the thick, black shaft above her face. "Come on," she told him. "Do it. Cover my face. Cover my slutty face, you big, black motherfucker..." "You got a dirty mouth, bitch." the cop grinned, pulling the skin all the way back, all the time keeping the glistening head of his cock just out of her tongue and lips reach. "Got a dirty mouth with a slutty face. Cover me with fucking cum, you fucker. I want to feel that hot cum all over my slutty face..." The cop sniggered and pulled her head back a bit further. "Just another white whore, ain't you, bitch?" he told her as she reached up with her tongue only for him to pull his cock back. "Know what we do with white whores?" "What?" laura grinned as she pushed a hand down the front of her skirt. Her pussy was dripping as she ran her fingers up and down the lips. Dipping a finger inside herself she suddenly gasped as the orgasm overtook her body and she let out a moan, closing her eyes as she revelled in the waves of pleasure... "Fuck, look at you cum..." she heard him say. Laura felt his lips on hers and then his tongue plunged into her mouth as he took her head in his hands and kissed her hard. He pulled away and she opened her eyes. He was looking deep into her eyes. "Heard all about you and those three brothers." he said and she remembered them. The slutty pleasure of being used like a fucktoy as two big, black cocks were plunging into her throat and pussy at once. That was before she straddled the third black guy and was riding him like a whore when she felt one of the other two pushing his cock at her asshole. It felt to tight as that thick cock forced open her ass. She cried out as both black studs began hammering into her holes. Only to have her head grabbed and the third guy shove his newly hard dick into her mouth! Laura was as happy as a slut in gangbang. Hell, it was a gangbang.... "Heard all about it." she heard and opened her eyes again. The black cop was looking down at her with grin. "What do you do?" Laura asked, plunging two fingers deep inside herself. "With what?" "With a white whore." she grinned and tried to catch that hard, black cock that hovered abover just out of reach. "Throw you in lockup." he said. "Then we fuck your brains out..." Laura pushed her fingers in knuckle-deep. "We?" she groaned. He smiled. "We. "Oooohhh...." "And it don't stop at three...." Laura moaned and squealed as the cock suddenly aimed at her and the eye exploded as thick, white, hot cum rained all over her face and hair and even splattered her clothes. She sank back on her knees as the black cop smeared his load over her face, she sucked the head in and ran her tongue around it, enjoying the salty taste of his cum. He pulled back and pushed his cock away, zipped up and and smiled. "Bye, baby." he said and walked to the door of the cupboard. Laura was gasping as she watched unlock the door and walk out. He didn't look back once. She blinked as she remembered where she was and stood up, pushing her clothes back in place. Finding a box of paper towels she cleaned up her face and straightening herself up. Laura walked out of the cupboard. Laura Petry's Apartment. Furrier Apartment Complex. Evening. The water felt hot as she opened her eyes. Laura yelled out as she jumped out of the shower and found herself looking at her own bathroom. The frosted window showed it was getting dark. The last thing she remembered was... Was what? Visiting a client. That was it. Creepy little bastard. He'd done something that meant she remembered leaving then.... Nothing. She could remember nothing. But there was that feeling of satisfaction again. Whatever happened had left her feeling calm. Laura turned off the shower and dried herself off then walked naked into the hallway. She saw the clothes she put on that morning on the floor. Picking them up she noticed the blouse and skirt had stains on them. She ran her fingers on them and noticed how dry they were. The looked like... Jesus, what had she been doing. She'd seen enough semen evidence to know it. Had she been raped? There was no sign of her panties. For a moment she had thought she didn't put any on this morning, but then remembered it clearly. She didn't feel sore and there was no bruises on her so... Was she drugged? The answering machine was blinking at her. There was four messages. Laura pressed the play button. "Message one. Two-twenty-four PM.," it told her. "Laura? Where are you?" the office dickhead demanded. "Laura, when you get around it get your ass into the office. That's another appointment you've missed." The machine clicked. "Message two. Two-forty-seven PM." the machine said. It was him again. "Laura. I am not fucking around anymore. There are plenty more lawyers who can do your job. And what I am hearing about your behaviour recently means I am not happy. I want you in the office A-S-A-P!" Click! "Message three. Three-thirty-one PM." Laura sighed as she heard his voice again. "You don't call me in the next twenty minutes, you are in so much shit." The time on the answering machine read 19:54pm. * Laura sat on her couch, her hands clasped in front of her, as the black police woman looked at the semen-stained clothes that were laid on the coffee table in front of them both. She was still nervous as she waited to the women to say something. "You don't remember what happened...?" Meathers asked. Laura had found a card with her name and phone number in one of her pocket. After checking that Meathers was a real cop she had called her and asked her to come over. "Your name is familiar but..." Laura just shrugged. "You can't remember us talking?" Laura looked at the woman and shook her head. "I think I might have been..." She paused. "Drugged then..." Officer Patrice Meathers sat back and looked at the white woman. "This is the first time you've experienced this?" Laura shook her head. She started to tell the female officer about the other times. About waking up and finding she had a hole in her memory. She felt the tears start to well up as she got it out at last. Suddenly the cop put a hand on her arm and stopped her. "Three night ago," Meathers said. "You were in Bar Ellis. You remember that?" Laura shook her head. "I know you were. I saw you. What about three black guys?" Again Laura shook her head. Patrice Meathers sat back and just looked at the white lawyer. "Hon," she said finally. "You weren't raped. I can say that with certainty. I don't what the problem is but I know that." "But..." Laura looked at the clothes. "You weren't raped today either." the black woman told her. "What can I tell my work?" Meathers just sighed. Laura bent towards her. "I probably going to get fired. If I wasn't raped. Then that means..." she said and pointed to the clothes. "That meant it was consensual. I was cons..." "Look." the black woman said quietly. "I may know someone who might be able to help." "A shrink," Laura sighed now. "Not exactly." the cop replied. Corrine Allen's Apartment. Evening. "You look..." Danielle started as Kacey walked out from her room in full make-up and ready to go out. She looked at the young woman. Everything was perfect. The dress, the hair, the shoes. "You look beautiful." "I feel nervous." Kacey confessed as she looked at the black woman who seemed to radiate beauty and confidence. "It's just a bar." Danielle walked up to Kacey and put her hands on the naked, smooth shoulders. "Maybe I should get some cops to provide and escort." she said and Kacey looked at her. "We'll need protection from all those boys you'll attract. Oh, honey, need an education so bad." Kacey felt a sinking feeling as she heard the word `boys'. All she wanted to do was put her arms around Danielle right now. "Now, you ready?" Kacey took a breath and nodded nervously. With that she watched as Danielle turned and picked up her purse. Kacey couldn't take her eyes off the curvy figure of the black woman as she headed for the door then quickly headed after her. Evening. Officer Meathers had refused to tell Laura where she was taking her. They were in the police officer's car as she was driving them out of the city. The buildings had been replaced by trees and winding country lanes. Meathers turned the car and stopped before a tall gate. Laura peered at the sign in the growing darkness. She had trouble making out the wording. As the gate opened and Meathers drove the car through the gate she turned to the black woman. "Did that say `school'?" Laura asked. THE END.

Rama - Blackshaft - 1-05 - Lines The Lime Building. Samantha White's Apartment. Morning. The alarm was soft. A gentle ringing that slowly nudged Samantha Awake. She took a deep yawn and stretched where she lay then looked at the sleeping curves of the hostess named Amanda next to her. She smiled as she thought of the fucking she'd gotten from the woman. Amanda had slammed that dildo in deep. Sam gently touched her pussy lips and remembered the thick, black strap-on that had pounded into her last night. The sun was streaming in though her window as she reached for the BlackGen phone. It was the latest toy from one of Lime's sub-companies. A phone that did everything; calls, e-mail, messaging, internet, picture and video. The vibrator option even felt good against her clit. Shame it couldn't make coffee after it made you come, she smiled as she switched it on. There was the usual round of messages; people to call or message back, no spam shit as usual. So far so good. The security on the system was proving every word the tech-geeks had said. There was one message from Adrian Lime. Samantha tapped the screen and read it: `Re-Breach. They can't find anything. No threat. Start stage 1.' `A', it was signed. Adrian Lime. Samantha switched it off and looked at the clock. 06:09am. She looked towards the sleeping Amanda. Let her sleep. Sam thought and lay back. She thought of the young woman at the lab. The hunched over figure. It was obvious what she was doing to herself. Sam smiled and looked at Amanda again. She switched on the vibration function and turned over in the bed, sliding the phone under the covers. Amanda opened her eyes and smiled as she felt the vibrations from the phone being held between her legs. She looked at Samantha White, her boss, and her lover and smiled at the pleasure between her legs. "Morning." Samantha said, feeling those smooth thighs start to part. It was breakfast time.... Beach Mansion. Kacey's room. The costume lay on the floor. The leather cape, short coat and trousers had been thrown over a chair. The plain white bra and panties was on the floor Alison was wearing a white robe, her hair still wet. The shower had felt good after being down in the catacombs. She needed the time to think. She knew what she needed to do now. Things were clear for the first time in a while. She looked at the sleeping form in the bed again. Much clearer now. Alison turned around and headed for her own bedroom. Very much clearer... Corrine Allen's Apartment. Morning. Corrine Allen finished drying off and pulled on the robe as she looked across the park. To one side she could see the lex - the Lime Building, she reminded herself. Beach industries had a new rival in town. As CEO of Beach Industries she'd seen other businesses come and go. They always had ambitions to become bigger, better and more powerful, but... they didn't. Corrine poured her morning decaf coffee and looked at the sunlight casting across the trees. 42 years of age and running the biggest company in the city. That fact always made her wonder if he was dreaming. Who'd have thought it? Corrine thought of the little shithole town out west she'd been brought up and smiled. The computer on her desk beeped and she walked round to view the latest messages. The usual business stuff...and one from Alison. Finally, she thought. It had been days since Alison had been in touch. Carl's death was probably the cause. There had been nothing an the news about the city's vigilante which always was good. She'd been trying to get Alison stop the caped avenger stuff for a couple of years now. Corrine could see how Alison was starting to drag Kacey down that very same path. The kid should be studying or getting drunk or worrying about boyfriends. Having a proper life. Not dressing up in leather and putting her life on the line for a city of people who'd never give a shit if you needed help. She'd seen Alison become wrapped up in the persona of Scarlett Queen, to the point there was no real use in her having any role in the company. Corrine couldn't say she wasn't guiltless in aiding her though. How else was Alison expected to get the vehicles and the gizmos she used? All custom made and all done through Research & Development, or put under failed or scrapped business projects. The numbers looked nice and legal and hidden. And at least she could be sure Alison was protected in some ways. Corrine tapped on the message and read it. "Jesus..." she breathed and ran into her bedroom to grab some clothes. Lilgrove. Mid-west. Morning. The streets were empty as the humvee turned the corner. The driver, a heavy-set, bald, black man, looked around him. The place was a damn ghost town. Another town that fell to the last economic downturn. The shops had been boarded up and there was only the occasional car parked and dusty. The street lights had long stopped working. The weeds were beginning to claim the cracked streets. He cruised the humvee down the street and thought he saw a dog move round a corner. The buildings looked useable, he noted. If there was anyone left here, they'd be easy to deal with. What was it the mob used to say, that the desert had a lot of secrets? "Well?" he said, stopping the vehicle outside a run-down supermarket. The name read `AL ART'. Two overgrown `W's were propped against the boarded up front. The white man beside him peered at the electronic tablet in his hands. He was older. His hair had turned white with his age. "We keep going this way, Mr Callam." the older man said. "Another half an hour after we leave the town should be the hot spot." The black man named Callam thought he heard the child-like excitement in his voice again. He pressed his foot down and sped the vehicle up past an old motel building. Beach Mansion. Kacey's Room. Morning. Kacey stretched and lay on her bed in her bed. For the first time she was aware she remembered her dreams. She, Princess, was running towards the screams but so were others. She heard the footsteps around her, the screaming was changing though. It was becoming more gutteral and raw. More animal. She kept running, panting as the screams were getting closer. No, not screams. Cries. Cries that meant something else... Turning a corner she found a dead end. The walls were too high for her grapple but she heard the footsteps catch up and spun around. They were black, and naked, and getting hard as she simply blinked at them. Each cock was as long as her arm and their balls were massive. Beyond them on a rooftop a dark figure watched, the cape blowing in the wind. "Alison!" she called out. The figure didn't move. He-she-it just watched. The black men were walking towards her and Kacey backed up against the wall. "Alison..." she repeated as the cocks were within touching distance. She could feel the throbbing between her legs. Her pussy was aching as she gazed at their growing cocks. Each man grinned as he pulled the skin back. She saw the thick heads and her eyes trailed down to their heavy balls again. Looking up she saw more black men, more black cocks in front of her. Each and every one of them growing thick and hard. The figure turned and walked away. "Alis...." she gasped as the men surrounded her... She had woken up at that point. Her pussy was throbbing. Kacey couldn't resist gently rubbing herself. She gently fingered herself back to sleep. But the dreams continued. Only she was naked this time, except for the mask and a short cape. She was on that desk, on all fours, the black man behind her, fucking her, calling her every degrading, filthy name there was; bitch and cunt and slut and whore. And she was loving it! Looking up she saw the figure of Scarlett Queen watching from the doorway. Her face was unreadable. "Ohhh, God, Alison..." she moaned. Then saw Scarlett Queen turn and leave again as a second black man blocked her view, his cock long and hard. "Do the bitch!" the first black man said as he grabbed her head. She knew just what to do. Kacey cried out as the orgasm flooded her body and woke up a second time. She realised she had climaxed in her sleep. The sun was high. It was after nine o'clock. She rolled out of bed and pulled on a robe. The costume was were she'd thrown it last night. She make a quick check before getting breakfast. Kacey went down stairs and opened the body of the clock in the hallway. She pressed the button at the back and saw the panel in the wall open. The smell caught her first. Something had been burning. She ran down the stone steps and stopped. The car had been smashed and burnt out. The main computer was smashed as was everything else that could be. Smoke was coming from the wardrobe were the array of suits were kept. They had been burnt. Her bike was on it's side, the tyres ripped, the headlights and body a mass of dents. "What..." Kacey gasped. "Mind where you step." a dark-haired woman in a long, blue coat said and Kacey looked round. Corrine Allen was walking round from the rear of the massive computer. "That's several million dollars down the toilet." Corrine said, looking at the computer. "Hi there, Kacey." Kacey blinked. Corrine was someone she didn't really know too well. They're paths hadn't crossed too much. She did know that Corrine was one of the small group that knew her and Alison's secret. "What happened?" she asked. "I'd say," Corrine said, picking up a piece of circuit board. She sucked in some breath thinking of the cost of just that bit alone. "I'd say what I'd feared most." Lilgrove. Mid-west. Morning. Callam stopped the humvee and looked to the old man again. "Close enough," the old man grinned and opened the door. The black man sighed as the old man jumped out and he got out himself. The desert was a desolate place. Great, he thought. The town was a dot in the distance. The old man was turning around when he started walking along, not looking up from the computer tablet in his hands. "I'll get the shovels, sure." he said and opened up the back of the vehicle. picking up a dirty shovel he started following the old white man. Yeah, he thought, you act the Massa, and I'll do the old slave shit. "Here!" the old man said, stopping. Callam looked at the ground then at the screen in the old man's hands. The land dipped down a good ten feet in an oval shape. "Here?" Callam asked. "Yes, here." the old man replied, smiling at the black man. Yes, Massa, Callam thought to himself as he trudged down to the bottom of the dip. The Cave. Morning. "I should have recognised it." Corrine said, sitting in a chair. She looked at the slender figure of the young girl. No, the young woman who now was wandering around the cavern with her arms crossed, looking at the damage. "After Carl's death, she changed. Not getting in touch. Not even to say hello. Not returning calls or emails." Corrine thought of the email she'd received. How it talked of everything was being destroyed. How Alison had decided to end it after `being useless'. How she couldn't do it anymore as well as a list of instructions. Kacey was still holding the letter Corrine had found on the keyboard of the smashed computer. She looked at it again. the threw it aside and ran towards the stairs. "Kacey!" Corrine yelled. "I need to check something!" the young woman yelled back as she sprinted up the stairs. Corrine looked at her, thinking how she'd grown, and how many years had she lost to this obsession of Alison's. "Christ!" she muttered sinking back down in the seat. She looked over at the letter and went over to it. She picked it up and looked at it. `Kacey,' it read. `I'm sorry for wasting your life. You are young enough to still have one. Everything is yours now. The house, the company. Corrine has everything you'll need. I am so sorry for nearly ruining your life. Don't do what I did. Enjoy your life. Alison.' On the other side was a list of words and numbers. Passwords and account numbers. "You could have fucking told her to her face." Corrine said angrily and put the paper in her pocket. Beach Mansion. Alison's Room. Morning. Empty. The room was empty. Kacey pulled the drawers open. Empty. Everything was empty. The passport and some of the clothes were gone. Kacey sat on the bed and opened the bedside cabinet drawers. It was just rubbish. She slammed them shut. "Kacey." Corrine said and Kacey looked up at her. She was standing in the doorway, looking at the room with it's open doors to it's emptiness. "Gone?" Kacey nodded with a sniff. Corrine nodded and sat next to the young woman. "I should have called you." Kacey said. "I should have called round." Corrine replied, then took the letter from her pocket. "You'll need this. Passwords and accounts." Kacey took it and looked at the letter again. "Where is she?" "Christ knows." Corrine said and put an arm round the young woman as the sobs started. Lilgrove. Mid-west. Morning. "Too. Fucking. Hot." Callam panted as he dug down. The hole was a good six feet down and he had thrown his coat and shirt up leaving him bare-chested and sweating. They had found the layer of something when he started digging up dirt that was coloured a muddy red. A quick check of a Geiger counter comforted him he wasn't going to fried by this whatever-it-was. "That's it. That is got to be it!" the old man said from above. "That is no a natural colour." No shit, Sherlock, Callam thought and lifted the shovel again. The asshole must also have a professorship in stating the fucking obvious. He started digging again. "So many years I have waited for this. So many skeptics." the old man continued. "I knew there was something curious about this place. My peers will be eating so much humble pie when I publish this. Oh, yes, they will." The shovel hit something solid with a clang. It felt as hard as bedrock. Callam lifted the shovel and saw the ground was... glowing red? "Professor?" he said, grabbing the Geiger counter again. It was still only registering background radiation. "I present this and will watch them all grovel... What?" the old man asked and peered over the edge. Callam had pulled more red earth away. The rock was large from the small surface area he had cleared. And all of it was glowing red. He grabbed the counter and took both that and shovel with him as he climbed out of the hole. "It don't look of this earth anyway." he said, getting his breath back. He threw them down as he got out and sat down. The sun was a killer here. Then got the phone from his coat. He called the number he had and waited. "We found something." he said when it was answered. "Right where the professor's satellite said it would be.... Red and glowing and seems not to be radioactive, thank christ.... `Kay." He held the phone out to the old man. "Hello?" he said, taking it, the excitement in his voice. "No. Thank you. If it wasn't for you... Nothing I have ever seen before in my life...Yes...Yes..." Callam found the small GPS device in his coat's other pocket, pressed it and tossed it on the ground before throwing some normal dirt over it. He looked at the old man. "Of course. And I want to thank you for believing in me." the professor said and held the phone towards Callam. "The GPS register?" he asked and waited a moment. "Good. We can convert some of the building in the town for use. It hasn't been used in years by the looks of it.... See ya." Callam closed the phone and picked up his shirt and coat then started walking out the dip. "Could you bring the rest?" he asked. "The least I could do." the old man said, buzzing with excitement. Yeah, Callam thought. He led the old man back to the humvee and opened the back. The old man caught up. "So when do I get to announce this?" he asked. "Never." Callam said and aimed the gun. He fired twice. He watched the old man slump back slowly then fall. There seemed to be a look of surprise on his face. "Jeez," the black man sighed, picking up the shovel. "More God-Damn digging..." Two Days Later Eglin Police Dept. Commissioner Gregg's Office. Evening. Jane Gregg checked the last report of the day and put the papers in the drawer with the rest of the files. Things were still quiet. Normal. It had been what, getting on for a week since Scarlett Queen walked off that crime scene. No sign of her after that. No one had reported any sign of her. There had been whispers about the Princess, but she too had seemed to vanish. Maybe for the best, she thought switching her computer off. The door opened and Gregg looked up to see her secretary, Danielle Holmes standing there, coat on and bag in hand. "Home time?" Jane asked. "Of course." the black woman smiled. "The city can look after itself for a while." "Yeah," Jane sighed, and grabbed her own coat and bag. Eglin City. Apartment. Night "HAH-HAHH-HAHHHH!!!!" Caroline's whole body was shaking as she felt her pussy flood with cum juices and she rode the orgasm. Her legs were wrapped around her new teacher's bald head as she clutched at the bed, thrusting against his face. He looked up at her and Caroline gasped as she felt his tongue roll up her pussy again. "YES! YES! YES! YES!" she panted, her back arching as she enjoyed the ecstasy inside her. All it had taken was a couple of laps from his tongue on her clit and she was cumming like a whore. Not exactly the behaviour of a girls college principle, IronRod thought, tasting her juices before sliding his big, black hands down Caroline Wyatt's naked white thighs. His fingers stopped at the plump pussy lips and gently eased them apart as he clamped his mouth around her cunt and pushed his tongue inside her before heading back up to her clit. "JEZZZUUUHHHZZZ!!!" she cried out as her hips thrust against his face. Two days IronRod had been at the school under his `white' name of Taylor Jameson. He was the new english teacher. His class was all female, all white and all ready for womanhood. The first night after classes he had called on one of Blackshaft's bitches, Tiffany Storme. She had been the one who told him about the school. She'd told him about the exclusivity of the place, and that only the elite could afford to send their girls there. She had also told him about the number of girls who whispered about their parents `employment' and it's questionable legality. "They were `connected'". He had shoved Tiffany onto her knees not giving her the chance to speak before pushing his cock into her mouth He fucked her good and hard that night... `Connected' meant Mafia. Those pricks always had a racist edge to them. The plan had come quickly. Connections in the police department gave them the banks that had always been suspected as being mob fronts, so they hit the banks, and took the pricks money. They were still taking the pricks money, one bank at a fucking time. Blackshaft bitches were growing in number too. Bank staff who were low paid or being treated like shit agreed to open their banks as well as their legs to fuck over their employers. And the mob? They were pissed. but with the cops also looking into the banks after they'd been hit, they couldn't do a damn thing. They had people out asking but what was there to find. The cash was well hidden and it wasn't like the mob could check serial numbers. They were being shown up as the pissy little assholes they were, trading on a hollywood image of long ago. But when Tiffany told him about those rich bitches at her college who teased about their `connections' the next part of the plan came so easily to him. And if it was played right...? He thought about those girls in his class. Thought the way they looked at him as he walked in front of them. They were young and ripe and eager. They made his cock hard... Caroline Wyatt was gasping as she lay there when he pulled back and stood up next to the bed. She just lay there, rubbing her pussy, and gazing at his impressive black cock. "So big..." she panted... "Yeah." IronRod nodded as he slowly stroked it. "So black," she muttered. "Yeah..." he smiled, moving between her legs and pushing that so big, so black cock inside her. Caroline Wyatt moaned as she wrapped her arms and legs around the black man as he began thrusting into her.... St Ignatious. Principle's Office. Morning. "Anything else, Suzy?" Caroline asked, sitting behind her desk. They had gone through the schedule for the day, a usual mix of paperwork, pupils and parents. The three Ps Susy called it. Suzy Corralli was a mousy sort. A young woman who had attended the school but had shown a love for the place that extended to getting a job there too. Caroline looked at the strangely conservative and smartly dressed young woman. "We'll be needing the final paperwork on the new teacher, Mr Jameson." Suzy said, standing up. Caroline clicked her fingers. "Slipped my mind." she said, smiling "Miss Wyatt," Suzy said nervously. "Employing him before.... Well, if someone queries his qualifications?." Caroline smiled at the 26 year old and wondered what age Suzy thought she was. "I admit it's a bit quick, but we needed a teacher and..." She thought of his cock inside her. "And he presented himself." "Yes, of course, Miss Wyatt." the secretary nodded. "I'll get right on with that paperwork." Caroline grinned. "It's merely a formality anyway. What do you think of him?" Suzy seemed to go red slightly. "He seems....okay." she said. She watched Suzy leave and opened a drawer, taking out application form. Taylor Jameson had filled out everything properly, writing was legible and neat. His history looked fine. All she had to do was phone the schools and referees he'd put down and run him through the state's Criminal Records Check. She looked at his picture. Bald and black and strong looking. Caroline touched it, running her finger along his lips. She could feel him inside her now. That big, black cock throbbing, moving deeper, filling her.... He'd proved a man of his word so far, pulling out before he came. She remembered running her fingers through the thick, white cum that had sprayed across her belly and tasting it. He tasted so good. And he stayed hard, a first in her life. Every man she'd met had cum and went limp. But not Taylor. He had stayed hard last might. That led to another first last night. She swallowed. Caroline closed her eyes and thought of the feel of the large, black cock in her mouth. Every pulse and throb as his thrusts became harder. His fingers gripping her hair as he thrust, getting closer to the back of her throat. He had stopped as she gagged but Caroline was going to show him she was better than that and wrapped her arms around his hips. She wanted to taste his cum. She wanted it inside her somehow. He didn't say anything but she knew when he was ready. She pulled her head back and clamped her lips around that wonder dark, fat head as the delicious, thick, hot cream flooded her mouth, some of it dribbling down her chin. She had savoured it, rolling it about her mouth before finally swallowing down every drop she could.... "Aahhhhhh...." Caroline gasped and opened her eyes as she shuddered and felt her pussy spasm. She'd just came! Just thinking about him and she had cum! Her panties were damp, she could feel it. A smile crossed her lips as she put the form to one side and patted it. Later, she thought, deciding to get on with something else. St Ignatious. Secretary's office. Morning. Suzy looked at the door of Ms Wyatt's office. She thought she heard something. But shook her head. There was something different about the principle these days. Something... Well, this new teacher was here in a manner that was completely against rules. There had to be checks. The school had an image and a prestigious one. Her mother had brought her up that way. Image was everything. It was respect. The Corralli had an image to uphold. And this school was part of it. Politicians send their girls here, businessmen sent their girls here. This place wasn't a state school and it would never be a state school. Besides, this Mr Jameson was a rarity for this school. Not just black but also a man. The staff had been predominantly female for as long as she could remember. Put a male in and things could get distracting. Her parents had been quite explicit with her when she had been sent here. St Ignatious wasn't a place that wanted segregation but it did have standards. And boys were not as mature as girls. Sometimes, her father had told her, the old ways are the best. Suzy sat own at her desk and thought about it. The ethos of the school had changed since Mr Jameson had arrived a few days ago. She had noticed in the staff rooms if he walked in. The female staff members always seemed to be looking at him. It was the same with the students. The talk was of the new teacher. She remembered one conversation she had overheard in a toilet. A filthy, expletive-filled, conversation that centred on his penis and what the speaker would do with it! Suzy shook her head and cleared the memory of it. She sat down and decided to get work on the memos first. Work was best right now. Lilgrove. Day. The sun was still too damn hot, thought Callam as he stood in the centre of the old town's square. It was nearly time. The town was home to fifty workers for now. To the north a makeshift camp had been set up around the dip. The survey work was being down now. the red rock seemed to bigger than he thought. A line of trucks were ready and waiting to start taking the rock out. The Old Home Motel had been opened up, after they had gotten some generators in. A local shop had been turned into stores. "Boss!" Callam turned towards the motel. The short black man was waving from the door. "Done?" Callam called over. "Tuned in every room." the workman said. Callam turned as he heard the engines and saw the two buses come round the corner. The waved and they pulled over in front of him. The door opened and he watched women come off. "Ladies." he smiled, looking them over. Some were good looking. Some, however, no amount of booze would improve them. The women looked around them, the disgust evident. "What the fuck is this shithole?" a blonde in a mini-skirt and low top said. "I might be wanting more money." another said. "Get in line, honey." one added Callam listened to the grumbles from the group and put his hands up. "Ladies, I know it ain't much. You're only going to be here for a few days and we got TV, working showers and an open bar." "Now you talking." an brunette in too much make-up and trying to be younger than she was grinned and Callam wondered who was going to be `lucky' enough to get her. "Also, if there is anything you want while your here, just let me know and it will be provided at no cost." Callam looked and saw that seemed to placate them. For now. The driver of the first bus pushed past the women and handed him an envelope. Callam opened it and read the contents. He saw the workman standing at the motel's doorway, his mouth open. "Ladies, if you head over to the motel, me and the drivers will get your bags." St Ignatious. English Room. Day. They sat in rows. Blonde and Brunette, there was a couple of redheads and some black haired among the class of prime, young pussy. And every one of them were looking right at him. IronRod sat behind his desk, looking at the class of girls that he was meant to be teaching english to but in reality was thinking about how he could fuck every one of the little bitches. How did real teachers manage this shit, he wondered. He understood those who succumbed to the temptation. So much white pussy to enjoy... "Sir?" He sat up and looked at the cute little brunette in slim, stylish glasses. "Yes... eh..." he started, thinking about her pert breasts. What was her name again? "Carina, sir." she smiled. Fuck she looked so damn fuckable, he thought, forcing himself to stop looking at her chest. IronRod wondered if he'd found his weakness. Young white college girls! "Yes, Carina?" he said finally, feeling the blood rush betwen his legs. He could imagine those full lips sucking on his cock. "You were saying about Othello?" she nodded. "Oh, right. Sure," he smiled. Suddenly thankful he'd actually read it. Understanding it, though... Thank god for the internet. "Othello," he started again... Robinson Street. Apartment. Evening. Holly looked at herself in the long mirror. She looked so good with her hair down and naked but for the large glistening diamond necklace that was cradled snuggly between the top of her breasts. That was something she loved now. She was a woman. She had womanly loves. Like big, fat, expensive diamonds. She looked at the little collection she had collected now. The diamonds, rubies and other gems winked at her from the dressing table. There was other wonderous jewellery down in the armoured cars that had been stashed in the make-shift drive-in garage in the building. She's watched those sweaty black Gods knock down the walls and get the trucks in then she had opened her legs and fucked each one of those men. That was the difference. Smiler had never given her anything like this stuff. Even if she asked him for it, he would just cackle and tease her with the idea before throwing it away, telling her she didn't `get' it. She remembered when he had a milion dollars in a warehouse. Holly, Giggler then, had dreamed of the things she could buy. The Smiler walked in. She remembered the burst of flames from the flamethrower and wept as she watched the money burn. Every wonderful cent of it going up in smoke and ash as he laughed! She saw the madness then. She `got' it. Money and jewels were nothing to him. Holly had realised she was just another plaything, someone to mess up. Holly smiled as she fingered the diamond. She messed him though. She remembered the pain-filled puppy-dog eyes he put on when he saw the cables running from the chair he was strapped in and realised that pain in his ass was the metal pole up it. The large black man had been kind enough to let her run the show. She enjoyed Smiler's begging. Watched him piss himself, then hit the switch.... The doorbell rang and she pulled on a dressing gown, putting the diamond back in it's wooden box with some of the other gems. Holly walked to the door and opened it. That same kind black man stood there, undoing his shirt. He already had his impressive black cock out. Good and hard and ready. "Hi," Holly smiled sheepishly. IronRod pushed her back and stepped into her apartment.... St Ignatious. Dorm Room. Evening. "That nigger is no teacher," the blonde said. The girls looked at Isabella Brunelli. She was the `leader' of her little group. Something that was in the blood. She was the daughter of Carmine Brunelli, a much maligned businessman. Her mother had always told her the authorities were simply racist to the italians and all those visits from various cops were the result of plain jealously. Isabella knew the truth though. Her mother might be blind to it, but she wasn't. Her father was the leader of the Brunelli crime family. She known it for four years now after her then boyfriend, a fine white italian boy named Paul, had kissed that jew bitch from down the street. One tear-filled session with pappa and Paul learned never ever cross a Brunelli. The family moved out a month later after he'd got out of the hospital. A good italian family moved in then, name of Marsoni. The neighbourhood was pure again, her pappa had said. "I mean, did you see him?" she continued. "He's new?" Donna Turbento, a dark-haired girl suggested, a smile on her face. "Not that fucking new!" Isabella grinned. "You just want to get some," she poked her tongue against her cheek twice and watched her follower blush. "Anyway, wouldn't blame you. It's good to have something different now and again. Did you see how he never stood up?" The white faces around her nodded. "That so-called `teacher' had a hard-on. I think we'll have some fun with Mister Jameson..." the mob daughter grinned. She had just the plan. Isabella knew she was a looker. That and the family connections meant she would be treated like a princess. So this education shit was a bore. Got to have some fun in life, she thought, especially with a pervert nigger.... Eglin City. Apartment. Evening. "HAAAaaahhhhhhnnnnn..." Caroline buried her face in the pillow as she came. She was lying on the bed, still fully clothed, with her skirt around her waist. She ground her pussy down on her hand, trying to force every bit of her fingers inside her. Taylor's file was still on the table were she had left it. She just needed to look at that picture and felt the urge. Caroline rolled over and undid the skirt, pulling it off quickly and kicked it away. She pulled the crotch of her panties to one side and plunged her fingers inside herself again. She started to fuck herself again, imagining it was him. "Hhhhhhuuuuuu...." she moaned.... Robinson Street. Apartment. Evening. "FFFUCK!!!" IronRod yelled, rearing up and felt the explosion from his balls as he pushed his cock deep inside Holly's ass. The young blonde gripped the bed and splayed her legs as wide as she could on her belly as she felt his cum flood her bowels. He had practically ripped her robe off when he stepped in. Just the sight of his huge, black cock was enough and she would do what he wanted. She had heard from Tiffany how he had done something similiar to her. Three guesses as to why.... "Aaaaaahhhhhh...." he gasped, grinding his crotch against Holly so every inch of black cock was inside her.... "How was school today?" she grinned, hearing him pant over her. He was still hard, his shaft throbbing deep inside her ass. "All those sweet, young student bodies..." Holly groaned as the black man bent over her and started fucking her ass again.... Robinson Street. Evening. Suzy Corralli looked around her as she turned her car onto the street. The place looked run down. It wasn't a place a teacher lives. Something about Taylor Jameson didn't fit. She didn't like the effect he was having. Miss Wyatt still hadn't given her the paperwork for him, and she had seen for herself how he looked at the students as he left. More importantly, she saw them looking at him with a similiar glint in the eye. That afternoon she had heard more filthy talk about him. About his big, black penis. Well, if Miss Wyatt wasn't prepared to do anything... There was his car. Suzy checked again. This was definitely not the street he put down on the form. She nodded and smiled to herself. The negro had lied. Or there could be another reason. Suzy parked up and sat there. She'd find out, even if Miss Wyatt couldn't be bothered.... TO BE CONTINUED....

Eglin City Stories - The Horny Housewives Of Mysteria Lane 02 p2 "No, Abbie, I can't make the game tonight." Lea told her friend over the phone. "Something came up..... Nothing serious but I can't put it off.... You know Sarah's got a little problem right now. Bree's coming isn't she? I know she's a snob but.... Look, I'll see you tomorrow." She switch the phone off and tossed it across the room. "NOW FUCK ME, YOU BLACK MOTHERFUCKER!!!" she yelled. Alan didn't move. He smiled up at the naked white woman that was straddling him, with his cock firmly pushed deep inside her. " He watched the woman start riding him. "FUCK ME!" she demanded. Suddenly he moved, throwing her off-balance. He caught her and rolled her under him on the bed. "You giving me orders?" he asked. "Yes!" Lea spat then groaned as she felt the cock sink in deeper. She wrapped her legs around the black man. "Yes, yes, yes, yes...." He sudddenly pulled back. "No..." "You giving me orders, bitch?" Alan demanded now. Lea looked deep into his eyes and saw the dominance staring back at her. He lowered his face to hers. "Are you giving orders?" She stared back and felt small. Lea could feel the strength in his body. Every muscle was tensed and ready. His weight bore down on her. His hands grabbed her hair and and held her head in place. Something about it made Lea so hot. "No," she whispered. "What d'you say, bitch?" the black man smiled. "No." Lea panted, hungry for the cock that was barely inside her. "Please," she continued. "Please fuck me." "Fuck me what?" God, he was going to make her beg for it. Damn, she was so horny. "Please fuck me, sir." she pleaded. "You want my big, nigger cock inside you, slut?" Oh, God, she thought. "Yes!" "Say it!" he ordered. "I want your..." "Say it, slut!" Lea gulped. "I want your big nigger cock inside me!" she gasped. The words seemed to get her hotter for him. "Louder." he ordered. "I want you big nigger cock inside me!" she said, a little louder. "Shout it so you white friends can hear you!" the black man demanded. "I want you BIG, BLACK, NIGGER, FUCKING COCK INSIDE ME!" Lea yelled with a grin, enjoying the sex game. "You know how wet you are?" "Dripping!" Lea panted. "Please, please, master...." Alan smiled. "Master, huh. I like that. Your mine, slut." "Yes. Master." Lea begged. "Just fuck me. Please put it in me! I want you black cock inside me!" "Want it?" he teased. "Need it!" she corrected. "I need you inside me, Al... Master. I need your black cock, master!" "Yeah," Alan nodded. "You a real black man's bitch now." "Yes...." Lea breathed. "Slave for the black man...." "Oh, fuck, yes!" "You do what I tell you, slut!" "Yes, Master!" "You do it when I tell you! "Oh, God, Yes...." Lea could feel the climax building and he had barely moved his cock forward. "I need to cuuummmm..." "Shit, I ain't started yet, bitch." the black man told her. "God...." she moaned. "You gonna cum so fucking much...." "Auuuhhhhh...." "Gonna stick it up your white cunt..." "Uuuuuuuuhhhh..." "Fuck you like a fucking white whore...." he whispered in her ear. "....uuuuuhhhh...." Lea's pussy muscles were throbbing hard, grabbing at the fat, black head that promised to enter her. "Because you're my fuckin' white whore slave...." "Ffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh......" Lea cried as she couldn't stop herself from climaxing. She closed her eyes as the pleasure pulsed through her body. It was short but enough for now. "Please, please, master....." she panted. "I'll do what you want. Just fuck my white pussy...." Alan smiled. "Yes, you will...." he said and plunged his cock deep into her...... * Lea looked in the mirror. The same face stared back at her that she'd seen for for years now. The same person. The same person that last night had talked like a whore, and been used like a slut. She applied the bright red lipstick and looked at herself. How many way did he fuck her last night? How many times had she cum? "That's a real man, Tom." she said. Alan Gould had simply taken her and fucked her. He'd used words to make her cum. "A real fucking man!" She pushed her breasts up slightly and looked at the slut in the mirror. "For a real fucking slut!" she told herself when the doorbell rang. "What the hell happened last night?" Breanne demanded. Every bit of Lea wanted to yelled that she'd been fucked like she hadn't been in years last night. "Family emergency." she said simply. Breanne stormed into the house. "Well, Abbie called me and canceled. I phoned you and couldn't a reply. I hope the emergency was worth it!" "It was an emergency, Bree." "Sure." the woman said. "I've noticed how things have...." Breanne stopped. "You've changed, Lea." With that the woman marched out and Lea watched her storm across the road. She saw Breanne glance towards the Gould house then back at Lea. "Fuck you, Breanne." Lea sneered and pushed the door closed. * "Mrs Colby," Lea heard as she stepped out of the car and turned to see young Jenny looking at her. "Jenny." she smiled. The girl was growing up fast. She looked at the denim cut-offs and t-shirt. It was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. "How's your mother?" Jenny hesistated. "She's okay." A lie, Lea noted. "Look, it's getting obvious, Jenny." The girl looked down. "Situations like this, well, it has to be you're mothers decision. But if you need someone to talk to." "Thank you." Jenny nodded. "How's things with you and Brian?" A change came over the girl. She seemed to brighten up. "Wonderful, Mrs Colby." "Good. You're spending more time together these days." "It's better that way." Jenny told her. "And he's treating you well?" Lea smiled. "Like a queen." she smiled back. "You've been shopping?" Lea glanced back at the bags in the back of the car. "Just a few things." "Want a hand?" "Sure." Lea bend into the car and gave Jenny a bag and the keys to the door. She watched the girl walk up the door. No, she watched a young woman walking up to the door. The memories of her youth came flooding back. Lea picked up the other bag and followed the young woman in. * "Love a big, black cock...." Lea bit down on the rubber ball-gag. She was naked and on all fours. She could feel her black master's cock inside her, fucking her nice and slow as his hands gripped her hips. "Oh, yeah. I LOVE a black cock!" Lea looked at the large TV screen in front of her. On it a blonde was licking and kissing a huge black cock. Alan bent down over her. "So do you." he told her and Lea almost came on the spot. She had spent most of the evening watching the Gould house. She watched Jenny and Brian leave and nearly headed over herself but stopped herself. She waited even though her pussy was eager to feel that wonderful, black shaft inside it. She cried out in joy when the phone rang and heard his voice. It was a simple terse command. "Get your slut ass over here!" he'd told her. Lea tried to make it look like she was calm as she walked over. He was wearing a robe when he opened the door then ordered her to strip as soon as she got in. Lea felt the throbbing begin between her legs as she did as she told. Standing naked before her master she saw him nod. He slipped the robe off and she bit her lips as she saw the strong, black body. The cock was soft but still impressive. He opened a drawer and took out the ball-gag. "Put it on." She blinked. This was something new for her. But the kinky aspect seemed to make her pussy throb harder. Her nipples were stiff with the anticipation of the night ahead. She took the gag and opened her mouth, pushed the ball in then did the strap up behind her head. The black man looked at her and nodded satisfied. "Now get me a beer." he said and went to a couch before flopping down on it. Lea did as she was told. She got a beer from the fridge and turned as the sounds of laughter came from the other room. She took the beer to her master and saw the girl on the TV screen. She was sucking off two black guys in a car park. Alan took the beer. "Good girl." he smiled and spread her legs. "Make me hard, bitch." Lea did. She used her hands to make his cock it's full beautiful size as she listened to the black men start to take turns with the blonde. Her master told her not to look at the screen yet. Her pussy was screaming for the engorged cock in her hands. Lea looked at him with pleading eyes. He sat up and put a hand between her legs. Lea moaned through the gag as she felt his fingers rub her pussy lips. "You one wet slut," he grinned. You want my cock, slut?" "Mmmmm...." she nodded. "You want to watch the movie?" Once upon a time she would be disgusted by porn but something in her wanted to watch that blonde and those black cocks. She nodded again. "Hmm..." "Turn around." her master told her. "Hands and knees." Lea turned and was transfixed as the blonde seemed to be taking the black cock down her throat! "Hmmmm!" she groaned. "That's real fucking talent." Alan said. Lea watched in amazement as the cock slowly withdrew. It must have been ten inches, most of it down her throat! "Real fucking talented girl." he repeated and Lea felt the head of his cock push against her pussy. Lea groaned as it entered her easily. "I'll bet that bitch isn't as wet as you, though." she heard him laugh as he eased his length into her. "Mmmmmmm...." Lea lowered her head as she clamped her pussy around the shaft inside her. "You are the wettest white slut...." he gasped and pulled back. "Hhhhhhuuuuu...." she groaned pushing back against him. He slapped her ass forward. "Nice, wet black dick...." he said and pushed his cock forward against her pussy again. But stopped and ran it up between her ass cheeks. "HHHH!" Lea yelped. The screen was filled with the blonde being fucked. But the cock was up the blonde's ass! "HHHH!" "Tonight, slave," her master told her. "You take it up the ass!" His voice silenced her until she felt the large head pushing against her tight asshole. "Hhhhhhh....." "I own your ass, bitch, remember?" he told her. Lea cried as the pain started. His huge cock felt even larger as her anal hole was being forced open. "You're my bitch!" Tears were streaming down her face as the pain was growing. She slapped her hand on the floor. "MY BITCH!" he told her. "MY FUCKING BITCH!" Lea cried out in pleasure and pain as her ass was broken in that night...... * The poker games were rare now. The atmosphere was frosty. This one was at Bree's house and it was made royal command. Lea had wanted to be with her black master tonight but he was away. That meant Jenny and Brian would be there. Fucking. She could imagine the young woman on her knees serving Brian. Looking at Sarah she understood why Jenny spend every moment she could with him. Sarah looked like shit. Her hair hadn't been washed and the bags under her eyes were looking heavy. Sarah had even brought her own booze and had gone through most of it already. She had folded at every hand. Abbie was just as bad now. The look of disgust as she stared at Sarah was obvious. Abbie hadn't said much to Lea either. The way she played her hands told Lea that Abbie had something else on her mind. She didn't want to be here anymore that Lea did. She watched the latino down her wine with disgust then fill the glass again. Breanne was the exception. She seemed to be oblivious to the atmosphere. "Cake Time." she had announced before getting up and leaving the room. "Fucking cake," Abbie muttered. "Fuckin..." Sarah mumbled, her eyes half-closed. "You are a fucking disgrace, Sarah." Abbie hissed. "Abbie..." Lea sighed. "I have spent too long being too quiet, Lea." the latino said quietly, the anger obvious. "She should be being a parent. Look at her. Fucking drunk." "Am not..." "Drunk most nights. And while mommy's getting drunk what sweet, innocent Jenny doing?" Lea leaned forward. "Abbie." she hissed "She's out fucking that black boy who lives in that house." Abbie told Sarah who had turned away. "Every night!" "Abbie!" Lea snapped. Abbie looked to Lea. "Don't think I don't see it, Lea." "For fuck's...." Lea muttered and stood up. She walked into the kitchen and saw Breanne whistling as she had finished pouring coffees. "Why the hell are we here?" Lea asked. Breanne glanced back. "A nice friendly game of poker with the girls." she said. "Don't you...." Lea stopped as she saw Breanne giving the cake knife a quick polish. She wasn't listening anymore. "Just you go back in. Lea. There's a good girl." the woman told her. Lea blinked at the tone in the voice. Breanne had sounded like a school teacher scolding a child. She realised it ahd always been there. That tone. Breanne talked to all of them with that tone at some time or another. They had just suffered it. Lea shook her head slowly. "You..." she started and fell silent. What was the use? "I'm going home, Bree. I had enough." she said and walked out of the kitchen. She walked past the games table where Abbie whispering angrily to Sarah. Lea looked back and remembered how it used to be until, well, that night. After that they were just going through the motions. Pretending. Maybe the whole thing was just pretend, starting from the day they each moved in. Breanne had been the first one to visit. the first one to make the invite for a drink then to play some cards. Just the girls, she'd say. Just the girls. She'd said the right words to them all. They had felt obliged to make nice with Breanne. In that moment Lea saw the true Breanne. The woman who wanted to see things her way. Who wanted things done her way. Lea should have realised it sooner. The soothing words, the cakes, the friendly card games were all a ploy to keep an eye on them. It was Breanne who had told her about what Ellie had been doing with Sarah and Abbie's men. It was Breanne who had planted that little seed into her mind. And then who had told her about those days when he would disappear into Ellie's house for hours on end. Even what happened afterwards had Breanne in her element. Taking control, making the decisions, telling them what they were going to do. And Lea had gone along with it. They had all been played.... Cunt, she thought and turned towards the door. She stepped out and headed home..... * Lea moaned, spreading her legs as Alan's black cock drove deep inside her. He was on top, his eyes closed enjoying the feeling of her pussy. His thrusts into her were speeding up. Quickly pulled out and knelt between her thighs. A wide arc of cum exploded from his cock and landed onto her belly and tits. Lea squealed as arched her back wanting all of it to splatter on her body. Finally he finished and watched as she rubbed the warm creamy cum into her skin. "Good girl," he smiled. "You get beer for me?" "Yes, sir." Lea giggled. "Then get me some." he ordered and lay back on the bed. She rolled off the bed and grabbed the robe. "You ain't needing that." he told her. Lea looked back at him and dropped the robe back on the chair where it had been. She walked naked down the stairs, feeling her master's cum start to dry on her skin. As she walked past the large windows she didn't care if someone saw her. All she cared about was what Alan wanted. The phone was blinking. Telling her there was three missed messages. She quickly pressed play and walked into the kitchen. "BEEP - It's Bree. Could you call me back. Just a chat." Lea felt the cool air from the fridge on her breasts as she took a beer from the fridge. "BEEP - Lea, Bree again. About you leaving the game last night. Just a little chat. Call me." She looked at the machine. "Lea. I know you're in. What you did was rude and... We need to talk. Call me!" Lea walked up the phone and held down the delete button. The number changed to zero. She walked back upstairs towards the bedroom and her master..... * She watched Brian leaving with Jenny. Alan had called her an hour earlier and told her to `get her slut ass over here at ten'. She was gettign wet as she thought of his big, black cock. Lea watched the car speed off and stopped stroking herself. She got the keys and headed out, locked the door and quickly walked towards the Gould house. "Lea!" she heard and recognised the voice. Breanne. "Lea!" "What?" she replied. "I'm in a hurry." Breanne marched up her. Her face was set in that patronising, know-it-all smile "You've been avoiding me." the woman said. Fuck it. "Yes." Lea said. "I don't like you anymore. Now I ha--" "What you did ruined our evening!" "It was already ruined!" Lea told Breanne. "No--" "No, Breanne!" Lea pointed at her. "None of us wanted to be there. The whole was bullshit, and you know it. It's been bullshit for a while now. Ever since E..." "We don't NOT say that slut's name!" Breanne interrupted. "No, we don't mention her, do we?" Lea said. "Not after what happened. That's what worrying you, isn't? Your... OUR secret is safe, from my side anyway. But don't ever talk to me again. Don't look at me. Don't come to my door. I know you're game now. Goodbye, Breanne. Go and fuck yourself." Lea marched towards Alan's house. She could feel the woman's eyes burning into her back. Yeah, fuck her. She had better now. She had Alan.... * He watched as Lea rubbed the tip of the large cucumber and eased it between her pussy lips. She knelt up on the bed and slowly began to fuck herself with it. "Ooh, God...." "Feel good?" Alan asked the naked white woman. "Yes, oh, God, yes...." Lea groaned. "Push it in deep." he told her. Lea looked hat him with a grin. She pushed the thick shaft of the vegetable in deeper until six or seven inches was inside her. It was easy after the number of time Alan big, thick, black cock had been inside her. "Uuuuuuhhhhh...." she moaned and saw his cock getting hard in the chair were he sat watching her. "How's that feel?" he asked. "Soooo goooood...." she moaned. "As good as my big, black cock inside you?" Alan said. Lea shook her head. "No. Never." "You want my big, black cock inside you again?" "Yes," she groaned. "Always...." "Bend over, bitch." he told her. Lea started to slide the cucumber from her pussy. "Did I tell you to take that out!" he said. She stopped. "You put that back in there....." Lea wondered what was going to happen as she eased the large green vegetable back inside herself. She watched as he crawled up on the bed behind her and shoved her down. "Hands behind your back." Alan told her and Lea obediently put her arms behind her. Her pussy was dripping with the thick cucumber inside her. She moaned. "Horny little slut," she heard him say and felt Alan grab her left arm. The metal snapped around her wrist and Lea heard the rasp of the metal circle close around it then lock tightly. Handcuffed, she thought as her right wrist was cuffed. "Ooooooh, fuuuuuuhhhck...." she groaned. Handcuffed and stuffed, she thought. Lea needed to cum so fucking badly! "Where's your gag, slut?" her black master barked and massaged her bare ass cheeks. "Next to... " Lea gasped, her pussy squeezing against the vegetable inside her. "Next the bed." She felt him moving and heard the drawers opening. They were slammed closed. "Open your mouth." he ordered and Lea did as she was told. His hand grabbed her hair and pulled her up. The rubber ball was shoved between her teeth. "Bite." she was told. Lea bit it, then felt the straps being done up behind her head tightly. She was shoved down again. Lea eyes widened as she felt his finger push into her asshole. She knew what he was going to do! "MMMMM!" she tried to lift herself up but was pushed down again. "You'll get used to it." she heard him say and felt the fat head of that big, thick, black cock pushing between her ass cheeks. "MMMMHHHH!" she yelled through the gag and pulled at the handcuffs. Each move she made just made her pussy muscles massage the thick green vegetable that stuffed her pussy. He'd tear her apart! The doorbell rang and she looked at the door to the hallway. "Fuck that, bitch." Alan told her and started pushing his cock against her tight asshole. "You're all mine, remember!" "MMMMMMMMMMHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Lea screamed as the black cock pushed her asshole open. The doorbell rang again.... "All fucking MINE!" the black man said again and rammed into her ass. The pain was intense as she found herself being double penetrated by her master and the cucumber. "HHHHNNNNNN......!!!!!" "ALL...." he gasped, slamming into her ass. The doorbell rang.... "FUCKIN'......" he continued fucking her and grabbed her hair. "MINE!" Lea was felt orgasm suddenly explode inside her. Her body shook and quivered as the pain and pleasure rocked through every part of her. It seemed to last for ages. She gasped into the ball gag and almost passed out as the black man, her black master continued fucking her. He didn't stop for her orgasm, He didn't remove the vegetable from her pussy, now dripping with pussy juices. He grabbed her shoulders and used her body for his own pleasure, driving that thick, black shaft into her ass. As she came again, the pain had gone. That black inside her ass felt so right, especially when it plunged in and he emptied his balls into her ass.... He gasped for breath as he stayed inside her ass and the strap of the gag open. Lea was breathless, her face flushed from the second pussy-shattering climax. "What are you?" he demanded. Lea lay there, ass in the air and face down. She moved her lips. "What are you?" he repeated. Lea felt his cock going soft inside her. She could smell the sex in the room. "....yours," she gasped. "All yours...." Looking back she saw him kneel up. That smile on his black face showed nothing but satisfied dominance. She was all his...... * She sat up, feeling his huge cock throb deep inside her. Lea was straddling Alan and pushing herself down as she wanted every bit of him inside her. She wanted to feel his balls against her ass and that fine black cock buried into her belly. "Mmmmm...." she gasped. "You want it, don't you?" he smiled up at her, just lying there with his hands under his head. "God, yes." Alan nodded. "You want my big, black cock in your white pussy." "Yes." she nodded and squeezed her pussy muscles around the thick shaft inside her. "Give me you hands." he said and she held her arms out. The black man took her hands and gripped her wrists. Lea gasped as she was suddenly spun over and found herself under him on the bed. His cock was still firmly inside her. She smiled as he smiled down at her, pinning her arms on the bed. "You want it?" "Yes!" she told him. "You know what bareback is?" Lea blinked then shook her head. Alan lowered his mouth to her ear. "No fucking rubber," he whispered. "Up till now I've worn a rubber or pulled out or just came in your ass. Not now." "But I could--" "No fucking rubber!" the black man said again. Lea stared up at him. Something in her felt safe. She should be refusing but something inside her was stopping her. The thought of sex without a condom made her feel excited. It was just like when she started having sex, before the dark, dangerous days. When sex was just fun. The thick, black cock inside her twitched. She could feel the rubber that stretched around the shaft now. It felt wrong. "No rubber," she breathed. "Say what?" Alan asked. "No! fucking! Rubber!" Lea grinned, feeling like a teenager again. "You getting the idea..." Alan grinned and eased his cock out of her. He made a fuss of rolling the condom off and held it up in front of her. Then tossed it off the bed. Lea looked down at the huge black shaft. It looked so much better without the rubber sheath. Alan knelt back and eased the skin back, showing her the fat head of his cock. "....ooooohhh...." she breathed. Alan placed the head at her pussy and slowly pushed it down between the wet sex lips. Lea gasped as she felt the feeling of skin on skin. It felt so right. now. As he entered her again, Alan grabbed her arms and pinned her wrists onto the bed again. Lea moaned as she let his cock slide into her, enjoying the feeling of that hard cock stretching her pussy muscles. * "Put it on." Lea felt his voice more than heard it. His deep, black tone seemed to drill down into the very centre of her being. Alan stood before her, his hand gently rubbing her pussy. She was naked in his bedroom. She moaned as she felt his finger push between the groove of her pussy lips. "I said, put it on!" he told her again and Lea could swear she felt each word go straight between her legs. "Yes," she gasped and took the thick, leather collar from him. Lea put the dog collar around her neck and did it up. She saw the smile on his face and felt pleased as he sped up the rubbing between her thighs. "Good girl." he nodded and held up a pair of shiny, metal handcuffs. "Oooh...." She had got used to the handcuffs, even loved the way they removed and control she had. Lea was slammed against a wall of the bedroom and let out a low moan as her arms were jerked behind her. The handcuffs were snapped on her in a second. The large black man pressed himself against her, his hands gripping her arms. She could feel his hot breath on her neck and cheek. "I own you, bitch." she heard him say. "Uuuuh...." she gasped. "I own your white ass...." "Yesssss......" she accepted. He pressed his cock against her ass. "You do what you told to." "Mmmmmhhh" "You CUM when I tell you!" She felt his hand slide up the back of her neck and grab her hair. "You don't?" he breathed into her ear and Lea squealed as he slapped her bare ass hard. Lea nearly came on the spot. She tried to hold it back. "Oooohh, God...." she panted. "Don't you fucking dare, bitch!" he told her. "Yes," Lea panted. "Yes, sir." "Now. Walk." Alan ordered and jerked her back with her hair. Lea felt the cuffs tight on her wrists as she was walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He turned her and Lea thought she'd cum just then. The slap seemed to give her more cause to cum. "Need to..." she started. "Need to cum..." "Keep moving!" he ordered and walked Lea into the kitchen. He stopped her at the cellar door and opened it. Lea was then walked down the stairs and blinked as the lights came on. She saw the bare wooden table at the bottom. The her eyes moved to the thick mattress on the floor. It was in the middle of four metal rings that were driven into the floor. She saw the wardrobe at the far end and wondered what was in it. Then she saw the camera on a tripod in the corner of the cellar. Once she would have screamed at the situation she seemed to be in. The old her would have. But something was different now. Alan Gould `owned' her. He `owned' her ass and he pussy and her mouth. She was just a sex toy. She would do what she was told. He shoved her onto the mattress. Lea didn't feel scared as she heard the zip of his pants being lowered. She felt excited. She could feel the orgasm building inside her as the belt was undone. Lea looked back and saw him standing over her, his growing, black cock in his hand. "Oooooohhhh...." she gasped and felt the orgasm start. "You know what I told you," Alan grinned. "Uuuu.....Ohhh...." Lea groaned as the pleasure throbbed though her body. The slap on her ass was sharp and hard and just made her cum more. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuuhhhhck....." she gasped as her body quivered with orgasm and the juices ran down her thighs. "You are one dirty slut!" Alan laughed behind her. Suddenly she felt his fingers running up and down her pussy lips again and Lea let out another moan as his weight bent over her. "My dirty... fucking... slut!" he breathed into her ear. Lea came again as her pussy lips were were opened up.... * "....aaaahhhhh...." Standing in front of the mirror, Lea looked over her naked body. She still had something of a figure. Her breasts weren't sagging yet and her pussy was still inviting. Lea turned and looked at her ass. Never did she think she ever get what was on it. But she did. A small tattoo. On her fine ass. Still firm. Still tight. He had wanted it. Demanded it of her. His cock had been buried deep inside that firm, tight ass when her told her to get it.... "....aah....aahhh....AAAHHH..." She heard the sounds coming from Brian's room. "...ooh!... ooh!... ooh!..." Deep, gutteral, animal sounds. She recognised Jenny's voice in among the voices. Brian had one of his `friends' over. Another black kid. Jenny was in there too. The boys were keeping her busy.... Lea had noticed that Jenny was showing as well. Her belly was getting bigger. A smile crossed Lea's lips as she knew what that meant. Sarah was going to be a grandma. She felt sorry for the kid as Sarah had gone downhill in recent months. She never seemed to be far from a bottle of booze these days. It was a shame for Jenny and the kid. But Lea would step up and help them out. She knew what it was to be a mother. A proper mother. It was her responsibility to help bring up the next generation. She heard a slap come from the room. Then a long deep female moan..... That reminded her it was time to get dressed for Alan. Lea turned and picked up the dog collar. She put it around her neck and gently did it up. She stood there again. Ready. She turned and left the main bedroom in the Gould household. As Lea stepped into the hallway and sounds from Brian's room grew a little. She could hear the boys more clearly now. "Yeah!... Yeah!" she heard Brian gasp. "....mmmmmmm...." "You got this little `ho well-trained, bro!" "Fuckin' easy, man." "....mmmmhhhhh...." "Bitch'll do anything!" "Anything?" "Fuckin' any-thing...!" "Baby, suck that dick good..." "....uuuuhhhhh...." "Anything, huh?" "....aaahhhh...." With Jenny soft moans in her ears Lea walked down the stairs and through the kitchen. She walked out into the warm sunshine of the day, enjoying the feeling of the sun's rays on her naked body. The back of the Gould house was enclosed. Trees surrounded the the property giving it plenty of privacy. Privacy that Lea had enjoyed. She had an image to keep. She was studying to sell real estate. She was an upstanding citizen. Here she could be something she never thought she'd ever be - a black man's fucktoy. Alan Gould lay back on the sun lounger. He was naked, the sight of his strong, black body making her feel excited. She could see the long black cock lying flat. She licked her lips. Lea cared for one thing right now. "Lea?" he said, not looking at her. "Yes... Sir?" she replied, aware of how thwe sound of his voice seemed to go straight between her legs. "I need to ask again?" he said. "No, sir...." Lea breathed and softly walked towards the naked black man. She saw he was wearing sunglasses. She knelt down next to him and gently kissed the soft cock, cradling it in one hand. She could feel the life in it as she eased the foreskin back. Soon it would be hard and inside her. Lea could almost feel that hot, thick cum filling her already. She moaned as she felt his hand stroking her ass, the thick, black fingers stopped and rubbed the tattoo. One finger traced along the lines, following them as they spelt out one word. W-H-O-R-E.....

The LilGrove Chronicles 01 - True Love. Part 1 1928. "Get out!" Mary-Louise Parker was startled and peered at her lover as he threw himself out of the brand new Model A Ford they'd `borrowed' four hours ago. The sun was still beating down on them where they had finally run out of gas an hour earlier leaving the pair of them in the desert alone. She was hungry and thirsty and getting fed up with the complaining from Patrick Thomas. The same man who had talked her into their life on the run now. "What? Someone coming?" she asked looking around. A sigh came out as her spirit fell on seeing the lonely dust road in front and behind them. "I ain't taking it anymore! Get the hell out of that heap of junk now. I got a message to send to Mr Ford!" Patrick yelled, taking up a position in front of the car and aiming the Thompson machine gun at it. "Jeee-zuz!" Mary-Louise cried out and scrambled out just as he opened up on the vehicle. RATATATATATATATATATATTATATATATTA..... She hit the ground and rolled into a ditch alongside the old road as Patrick yelled like a demon as he unleashed a stream of bullets into the motor car.. ...ATATATATATATATATATATAT..... He riddled the engine and windscreen of the car until the magazine of the gun was empty. The front tires finally popped and sank down. Mary-Louise looked up from the ditch as he threw the smoking, empty gun away and looked down the road away from the car. She looked at the car with steam escaping from the destroyed engine then felt the fury take over. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR!!!" she yelled running at him. Patrick turned to her and she punched him with a right hook. "YOU COULDA SHOT ME, YOU STUPID MEATHEAD!" Patrick turned and slapped her across the face. "I was thinking I had enough of waiting to die out here!" he told her. Mary-Louise spat at him and aimed a kick. missing his leg as he turned away from it. "I told you to steal some gas on the way out." "The tank was full." Patrick countered. "It ain't mah fault those bastards shot a hole in the gas tank." Mary-Louise kicked the dirt this time and looked around them. "Ain't no use going back that way," he told her. "They just gonna put holes in us as well." "Maybe if you didn't shoot off that machine gun and kill a bunch of folks." she said. "I told them to git down. They didn't git down. Least not quick enough." "Sometimes," Mary-Louise told him. "You can be dumb as bucket of rocks." Patrick looked up at the sun. Then motioned to the way they had come. "You want to go back. You go back then. Stay here. Do what you want. I am getting out of this place. There's got to be something at the end of this road." She watched as he started walking along the dust road. "We ain't got no water!" she yelled. "Or food, you dumb bastard!" "Well, I ain't waiting to die here!" he yelled back. "And least this way I'm getting closer to something, maybe." "God damn it..." Mary-Louise muttered and started running after him. "Hold up for me!" she yelled and caught up with him. "Better than sitting there I suppose." "Damn right it is." Patrick said and took her hand. She felt him squeeze it lightly and remembered why she loved him so much. "We don't find someone soon, we gonna be dark as niggers." she told him, feeling the heat of the sun. "Noon's just passed," he told her. "It'll cool down now." Mary-Louise looked into her man's eyes. Her man. She felt safe again. as long as they were together she knew she would always feel safe. Mary-Louise pushed up on her toes and quickly kissed him on his cheek. She felt the stubble. "You need a shave." she smiled. They started walking... When Mary-Louise Parker met Patrick Thomas he had been cutting wood in her family's backyard. He had come to the door and asked if there was any work going. Her father had seemed to like the work ethic he showed and gave a few jobs around the place. The months passed and Patrick had rented a small room in the town they lived in and was happily getting by as a handyman. Mary-Louise found herself looking out the window waiting for him to come then looking for any excuse to talk to him she could find. Soon the waiting paid off. Patrick would give her sly looks then one day she decided it was now or never. Mary-Louise took him some water and sat down next to him as he drink from the glass. She quickly stole a kiss on his cheek then looked away. She remembered him turning her face back towards him and the feeling of his lips on hers. She also remember the angry cry as her father hauled Patrick away and threw him out. She cried that night, swearing to God they would never be apart. It was three days later they got out of town. Not before Patrick had stolen her father's car though. It was another day before he told her he had robbed the town bank with a handgun he'd stolen from one of the Sheriff's deputies. Mary-Louise had been angry at first. There was no way back now. They were on the run. There was something in that that seemed so romantic though. That night, under the moonlight, she showed him her naked body. And then he made her a woman. When she let him into her, what was he called it, when she let him into her love hole. After that she had told him she'd follow him into hell. That was four months ago. They had robbed three banks now. By day they drove or rode west. So far, there was nothing in the papers about them. Different states, so there was nothing to worry about. As for plans, well, California was the place to go. That was a land of riches. All they had to do was get there. By night they slept in a stolen car or set up camp somewhere. If they were lucky there might be a farmhouse where they could sneak into a barn. They lived. Mary-Louise felt so wonderful, even enjoying the feeling of telling people to, "Git yer damn asses down!" before peppering some bullets into the ceiling. She could only laugh at the looks on those respectable folks at her language. Now they were making news. There was even some decent descriptions of them. The infamy made their nightly fornication even better. Then the line was really crossed. Mary-Louise had stopped the car using the lonely, scared woman act and saw the couple inside. Not much older than Patrick. She pulled the gun and listened as her partner in life and crime joined with a shotgun. They had robbed the couple and ordered them away from the car. That was when the man tried a hero act and got a belly-full of shotgun. But something went wrong and the muffled blast made them all stop. As the hero collapsed, coughing up blood and clutching his guts, the woman started screaming. Mary-Louise saw Patrick smack the butt of the shotgun against her head, knocking her out. Mary-Louise sat in the car as Patrick explained how he had no choice now. The woman could tell people. They wouldn't understand it was an accident. Mary-Louise put her fingers in her ears but still heard the single booming blast of the shotgun. The reality of their situation began to dawn on her. Patrick had been right. How could they start a new life somewhere if they were worrying all the time about an accident being misconstrued. `Sides, she had thought, that dumb asshole had tried to play hero, didn't he? He'd forced the situation. Sometimes people could just be dumb. Patrick and Mary-Louise drove on in silence. Another couple of banks were robbed and another few heroes got an ass-whipping from Patrick. But things had changed. More people were getting dumb. That old lady who had tutted her had deserved being hit. Just `cause the dumb old bat's heart was bad wasn't anybody's fault. She might have keeled over and died next day instead of right there on that bank floor. Yeah, people are dumb, she'd thought. Never know when to shut up and do what they were damn told. Mary-Louise had lost track of time as they walked. From the way the sun had moved it had to have been hours. The thirst was killing her. She needed something to drink. Her lips felt dry and hard. Patrick looked bad, his skin red under the sun and his lips... God, was that how hers looked. They looked like they were cracking. Mary-Louise shook her head and staggered on. All she knew was she was thirsty and hungry and burning up. They were trudging forward and the road had seemed to have disappeared. Looking around there was nothing they could shelter under. No trees, no rocks, nothing. There was no sign of a town or life of any kind. Just hot, dry desert. There were mountains in the far distance. Mary-Louise could only think that they were going to die out here. Well, it wasn't at the end of a rope. And they were together. There was that. Patrick had changed direction and seemed to heading towards a rise in the distance. Mary-Louise stopped and bent over, getting some breath. Her skin was red from the sun. Her thin dress barely covered her arms. "Don't... stop..." She heard Patrick tell her. "Keep moving. Gotta keep moving...." She shook her head then found the energy and pushed herself towards the rise. It took another while before she saw Patrick was crawling up the rise. Mary-Louise collapsed onto her hands and knees and followed him. Maybe this was the hell she'd said she would follow him into. A rope would have been quicker than this. She could have spat in their eyes before she dropped. Finally she arrived at the top of the rise and lay down next to where Patrick was kneeling. The light was growing dim. "You see it...?" he asked. "What?" Mary-Louise muttered. "We can't stop." Patrick told her and shook her. "Look." "I just want to..." she blinked as she looked up. The small town was in the distance. There was lights. Dull specks but that was definitely lights. "People?" "People." he smiled. Mary-Louise pushed herself up then felt herself sliding down. As she rolled she felt the tiredness finally overwhelm her. All she knew was she saw the town in the distance and felt the joy of hope before she passed out.... Her lips hurt as she felt the cool wetness on them. It didn't stop her from trying to drink the water down. She needed it badly now. Mary-Louise reach up and felt her arms trapped by.... "Easy there." a voice said. A soft woman's voice. Mary-Louise slowly opened her eyes and saw the dull white of a ceiling above her. She felt the soft mattress under her. A face came into view. A young woman. Her brown hair was tight back. and she held a sponge in one hand. Mary-Louise opened her mouth and felt the skin on her lips tighten. "...uuuhhh..." "Shhh," the woman told her. "Just rest easy. Don't drink too quick, it ain'y good for you just now." Mary-Louise looked at the woman's soft brown eyes. She saw a comforting look in them. The sponge was placed on Mary-Louise's forehead and gently squeezed. She felt the cool water run down her skin. It felt so damn good.... How long had passed, she didn't know but she slept more than stayed awake. Other female faces seemed to tend to her. There were others though. They seemed to be away from her, staying in the shadows, and whispered to the women then they were gone. Her voice was weak but she finally managed to say something. "...Patrick?" she said, her voice barely more than a croak. A blonde woman leaned over her, the blue eyes asking a question as she put her fingers on Mary-Louise's forehead. "...Pat...rick...?" she said again. "Don't you worry about him." the woman smiled. "You just get better." "What's you name?" the young brown-haired woman asked. Mary-Louise was feeling better. Her lips didn't feel cracked and her body felt more like it should have. She pushed herself up in the bed. "Mary-Louise." she said quietly. "Where am I? Where's Patrick?" The woman sat back in the wooden chair next to the bed. They were in a small room that was modestly furnished. Other than the bed and the chair there was a set of drawers and a wardrobe. From the window she could hear the sound of people and horses. "Patrick, where..." she said again. The woman looked at her and smiled. "Was that who you were with?" she asked. Mary-Louise nodded, feeling her heart racing. "The two of you were found on the edge of town. It is a miracle you were both still breathing." "But what about him?" Mary-Louise said again. "Is he...?" "Oh, he's breathing." the woman said. "Oh, where my manners at? You must still be confused. My name is Laurie." Mary-Louise reached forward and put her hand on Laurie's. "Where are we?" "A place called Little Grove." Laurie stood up suddenly. "You must be tired. I'll let you rest." "Where's Patrick?" Mary-Louise asked quickly as she felt the woman's hand leaving hers. "I want to see him." Laurie stopped and smiled again. "You two sweet? You ain't married." "We were going to California. Going to wed out there." Mary-Louise lied quickly. They had never talked about getting wed. never talked about children. The whole plan was simple go out west and get rich. She felt herself blush as she thought of getting wed to Patrick. "Ain't that sweet," the woman purred and patted Mary-Louise's hand. "Don't you worry none. Just get yourself good and rested." With that Laurie seemed to sweep out of the room before Mary-Louise could say anything else. She watched the door close and blinked as she heard something else. The sound of a key being turned in the lock. Mary-Louise quickly pulled the covers off and realised how naked she was in the bed. She'd been washed while she was out it seemed. Even the hair between her thighs had been shaved back to a thin strip. It felt so smooth down there now. Hell with it, she though and went to the door. It was locked. Panic set in for a moment and she looked at the window. She ran over and, crouching down, looked out. She saw the nails that kept the window shut then looked out at the town. It looked small. A ramshackle place in the middle of nowhere. She looked at the street and saw the horses were mostly pulling wagons. It wasn't the biggest number of people she'd seen. Men and woman walked and talked. Just another town. There was something not right at the picture she was looking at. She needed clothes. Mary-Louise opened the wardrobe and she saw her dress hanging there. The blue floral pattern looked faded, probably from the sun. It had been washed. She looked in the drawers and found her shoes and nothing else. Where was her underwear? Footsteps were coming towards the door. Mary-Louise threw herself into the bed as the key was turned in the lock and she got the covers pulled back over just the door opened. Another of the women walked in with a tray. A bowl and a fork was on it. The room was filled with a meaty smell. "Some stew," the woman said and put it down on the bed. Before Mary-Louise could say anything the woman had left. The key in the door was turned quietly again. Mary-Louise looked at the bowl. It was a stew. The thick meaty chunks were coated in a thick gravy. It smelled so good. As she slowly ate the stew she looked at the door. They had to have recognised for something. That was the only reason for the door being locked. They were keeping them separate until the law would pick them up and... She put the fork down and wiped the gravy from her chin with the back of her hand. Sliding out of bed, she looked out again. She saw it suddenly. It was the men and women. The women were light and dark. The men were just dark. They were all niggers. The women continued to appear, unlocking the door and talking down to her for the rest of the day when she mentioned Patrick. Finally night came and Mary-Louise got out of bed and took her dress from the wardrobe. She pulled it on and put on her shoes. She had to find Patrick. They could get a horse and wagon and be a long way away before anyone else knew. She went to the door and tried it. Yup, she thought. Still locked. Mary-Louise knelt down and peered into the keyhole. It was dark. Maybe the key was still in it. She opened a drawer and grabbed a sheet of lining paper then looked around her. There had to be something.... She saw the skirting board had a gap in it and looked closer at it. The wood here seemed to be weaker. Mary-Louise eased the wood back, stopping as the noise got too loud. She worked slowly, easing the wooden board until it came off. The nails sticking out might be long enough. Kneeling at the door again, Mary-Louise slid the lining paper under the door and angled the board under the door knob. She pushed the board forward until one of the nails was at an angle. She pushed the nail in gently, feeling for a key. A smile spread across her face as she felt something move. Suddenly that something hit the floor on the other side of the door. Putting the board aside, Mary-Louise pulled the lining paper back into the room gently and wanted to shout for joy as she saw the dark glint of metal come with it. She grabbed the key and quietly unlocked the door. A thought hit her. Where was she going to start looking for Patrick? The obvious seemed the answer. There had to be a jail. Every town had a damn jail. That's where they put him, sure. The town didn't look too big so she could search pretty quickly. Find him then find a horse and not stop till California. Yeah, once there they would be wed. It was only right. Mary-Louise eased the door open and peered out. The dark hallway was empty. The only light came from the moon as it streamed through a window. She took off her shoes and started creeping towards the end where stairs led downwards. The arms came out of nowhere. They were strong and hard as they wrapped around her and lifted Mary-Louise off her feet. "You god-damn son-bitch!" she hissed. "I..." She felt the man hot breath on her neck and saw the moonlight land on the skin of the arms. "You can't touch me, nigger!" she told him as she felt herself being taken back into the small room. Mary-Louise was thrown on the floor and looked round to see the negro beaming down at her. No wonder she didn't see him. He was one of the darkest black men she'd ever seen, and near naked. He was only wearing trousers. Her eyes looked at his body. It looked hard and seemed to shine in the moonlight. Mary-Louise suddenly felt weak as she looked at the moonlit black body. Looking up she found herself looking into his eyes. There was lust in there as he looked over her body. The smile on his face got wider. He reached round and took the key from the lock then slowly stepped back. Only then did Mary-Louise remember her intentions and leapt to her feet. But it was too late and she saw the door close then lock. Bending down she saw the moon light on the other side of the keyhole and heard the deep voice from the other side laughing. Mary-Louise just sank down as the thought went through her head. They were in trouble. It was only a matter of time before they'd be hanging from a rope unless she could find Patrick and get the hell out of here. "Shiiiiite...." she muttered..... Mary-Louise had finally let sleep take over and climbed onto the bed and slept. When she woke up she smelled the heavy scent of stew. Opening her eyes she saw the slender figure of Laurie sitting on the chair next to the wall. The brown-haired woman was looking out of the window. "What have you done with my man?" Mary-Louise said, not moving from the bed. Laurie looked at her and smiled. "I understand your worry." the brunette said simply. "But there is nothing, nothing, to concern yourself about." "I wanna see him." Mary-Louise demanded and sat up. "I wanna see my man. And you tell that nigger out there that he don't touch a white woman, ever!" A look passed over Laurie face. A flash of temper, maybe. "I heard about that." "He tell you how he looked at me?" Mary-Louise said. "I saw the lust in his eyes. And I knew what was going through his head. And I know that is against God and everything that is right!" Laurie just looked down and stood up. "The stew is getting cold." she replied and walked towards the door. Laurie knocked on it and Mary-Louise watched as the door opened and the brunette stepped out. She heard the key in lock again. Looking at the tray with the bowl of stew on the set of drawers, Mary-Louise snorted as she slid back onto the bed and crossed her arms. She could wait.... Looking out the window told her a couple of hours had passed when the door unlocked and opened. Laurie stepped in and sighed as she saw the full bowl of stew. "You have to eat." she said. Mary-Louise was still sitting on the bed. "I want to see my man." she replied. "Better yet, you just get that lawman you got to take us to where you want to send us. Then you might have your blood money but we will come back here and kill every man, woman and child in this shit heap town. You picked a couple a' bad folk to play around with." Mary-Louise just smiled then. "YOU HEAR ME, NIGGER!" she yelled. "I CAN SMELL YOU OUT THERE, YOU BLACK APE! YOU GONNA SWING FROM A TREE FOR WHAT YOU DID! AND THAT AIN'T THE WORST WHEN MY MAN HEARS `BOUT YOU MAULING ME, YOU GONNA BURN FOR THAT!" She watched Laurie pick up the tray. "You all gonna burn." Mary-Louise told her. Laurie turned and stopped at the door. "We ain't got a lawman here." she said. "So I don't know about sending you somewhere. You are going to stay. And you will forget about `your man'. You just knock when you get hungry." Mary-Louise saw the smile on the brunette's face as she stepped out felt the anger building up again. She quickly swallowed it. It was all lies, had to be. No lawman? What the hell did she mean `staying'? And telling her she `would' forget Patrick? She would never forget Patrick. Laurie was just like her mother and all those other so-called decent women. Liars, all..... She looked towards the window and heard the sounds of the town beyond. "You all gonna burn," she said. The hours passed. She felt the urge between her legs. Mary-Louise got up and knocked on the door. Stepping back as it opened she was about to rush whoever was on the other side when she saw it was that big goddamn nigger. "I need to go to li'l girls room," she told him before adding, "Nigger." He never moved, never even showed any reaction to what she'd called him. She watched him just close the door. "MAYBE I'LL JUST GO IN YO' MAMA's MOUTH!" she yelled at the door then walked back to the bed. Damn, she needed to go bad. After a minute the door opened and the metal bucket was thrown in, crashing onto the floor. Mary-Louise looked at it in horror. That ape was wanting her to use a damn bucket! The need was bad. Real bad. She looked at the bucket and shook her head. She would not lower herself to use that. That was what that damn ape should be using, not her. "Goddamn it!" she muttered and rushed to the bucket standing up properly then squatting over it. "Damn it. Damn it. Damn it." she repeated and heard the door unlock. It opened slowly and she saw the nigger standing there, watching her take a shit with a grin on his face. "DAMN YOU!" she yelled at him. "GOD DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!" Another white woman appeared in the door as Mary-Louise stood up. "Come here, nigger." she smiled. "Use your tongue to clean up my asshole." The woman walked forward and slapped Mary-Louise across the the face. Mary-Louise looked at her with anger. "You learn some respect!" the woman told her and picked up the bucket. "Or what?" Mary-Louise asked, nursing her cheek as the woman left and the nigger started to close the door. "You gonna get yours with all the rest of them! We gonna make sure of it!" she called after her. The door opened again and the woman looked in, a smile on her face. "We? Who's the we?" she said. "You know who, my man's who." Mary-Louise told her ignoring the smirk on the nigger's face. "Your man?" the woman sneered. "Your man's like all the rest. As long as he balls deep in some pussy he's happy as a dog. And he was very happy last night in mine." she finished and the door was closed and locked as Mary-Louise launched herself at the door. "BIIIIITCH!!!" Mary-Louise called through it. "YOU A LYIN' SACK OF HORSE-SHIT!" Finally after a minute's silence she looked about for something to clean herself up with. All there was was the bed clothes and her dress. She used a sheet from the bed and sat on the bed wondering what they'd done to get this thrown at them. Patrick loved her. He'd told her enough times. After everything they had done together, it'd had been love that had kept them together. More time passed and she thought heard sounds from the other side of the door. Low moaning sounds. Similiar to the sounds she made that night with Patrick. She looked out the window and started to finally see the truth of the place. Black men and black women and white women, young and old. She saw the white women and how they looked at the black men. She saw how they touched them. Some of the white women were pregnant, some walked between negro couples, holding hands with both of them. She saw the children. Dark skinned abominations. Some of the children were white. All girls, it looked like. No boys. No white men or boys. She could feel her belly wanting fed now. She heard it wanting fed. No, she'd wait. They wanted her so they would have to feed her. Mary-Louise would fight them all. She would kick and scratch and bite but she'd get Patrick out from whatever hole they had him in and then they would burn this place down. Her stomach called out for food again but she saw something that made her certain in what she wanted. A woman, dark-haired and not more than her age, was talking to three men - three niggers, she corrected herself - in front of a store. She watched as the woman let herself be mauled by those `men'. She watched as their hands were laid on her body and the woman didn't push them away. Then one of those niggers pulled her towards him and pressed himself against her. She saw what pressed against what and shook her head. They wanted her to become like that whore. The woman suddenly pulled back and Mary-Louise saw her put her hand between the negro's legs. So wrong, she thought. So goddamn wrong... The woman dropped to her knees and Mary-Louise couldn't believe what she was seeing. The whore was taking that big, nigger... What had Patrick called it that night? Dick, he told her when it was inside her love hole. The whore had that nigger's dick out right in the street! Right in front of everyone. Some people stopped and watched. Not with disgust, but with happiness. The older girls were being pointed towards the obscenity. The woman now was kissing that black dick in front of everybody there. Mary-Louise saw one white woman push the face of a white girls towards what was happening. She saw her whispering to the girl. Mary-Louise's eyes kept wanting to wander back to what was happening. She saw the woman's head moving back and forth. The other black men were moving towards the woman now. She saw their hand at their trousers and then watched the woman pull back. That big, black nigger di - thing was shining as she saw it leave that whore's mouth. The crowd was growing and Mary-Louise some of them sitting down. They were kneeling rocking back and forth, their hand between their legs. The woman suddenly stood up and Mary-Louise gasped as she watched her remove her dress then throw it on the wooden decking of the building. The woman was naked and got down on all fours. The black men had their `things' out and Mary-Louise saw them approach the naked harlot. She was having trouble taking her eyes off those big, black dicks. They looked so large... Mary-Louise pulled herself away from the window, not wanting to see anymore. Her belly was quiet now. The only hunger was coming from somewhere else. Lower. She found herself rubbing a hand between her legs, where Patrick had made her a woman. It felt so good but what she had seen was just wrong.... The joy that suddenly went through her body overwhelmed her. Mary-Louise cried out and gasped as her legs shook and her back arched. As the joy sank away Mary-Louise felt the dampness between her legs. She sniffed her hand and smelled the scent from it. She sat on the bed and lay back, listening to the cheers coming from the street below... Her belly was rumbling again. She had trouble sleeping between that the dreams. She was naked and saw those black dicks coming for her as she ran towards a town. She heard cheers and glanced back to see those niggers with their huge nigger dicks catching up. She yelled to the town and found herself looking at the same place she was running from. The women were naked as she looked down the single street. They beckoned her in and she saw that same strong nigger who'd mauled her walking down the street towards her. He was naked, his black dick was hard as he pulled the skin down the thick pole. She could smell herself and felt her legs give from under her. Mary-Louise collapsed on the street and looked up to see him walking towards her as the crowd gathered around them... Her belly rumbled, waking her up. The sun was rising. Mary-Louise rolled off the bed and crawled to the door. She hammered on it twice and waited. After a minute the door was unlocked and opened. Looking at the dark-haired woman standing there, she saw it was the same woman who had whispered to the girl from yesterday. She looked at the hall beyond and thought of the plan she'd had. Wait then but out and fight. She couldn't fight for shit right now. The woman looked down at her and Mary-Louise saw the black man behind her. She looked between his legs and the thought of his dick filled her mind. She cleared it away as she sat against the wall. "Please," she muttered. "I'm hungry." "Of course you are." the woman smiled and left, closing the door. "I'm hungry!" she said weakly as the door was locked. They took their time coming back and when the door opened Mary-Louise looked up at Laurie who was standing there with the tray. The nigger was behind her. She saw the smirk on his face as Laurie put the tray down on the floor. The woman said nothing and showed no sign of any feeling as she closed the door. Mary-Louise looked at the bowl on the tray. The contents were a white-grey mush. But it was food and she grabbed the spoon next to it then scooped it into her mouth. It tasted like it looked but she was hungry and finished it all. A new idea was forming in her head. Another couple of meals then fight her way out. She's have to wait and come back for Patrick but she would teach these bastards not to play around with her. She need the bucket and use that. For the next couple of days Mary-Louise played nice. She still yelled at them but she ate her food and swallowed the humiliation of having to ask for a toilet. She found herself watching the behaviour on the street below with an interested revulsion now. The white women gave themselves to those apes easily. She watched one whore with three of them. That bitch spread her legs and took the nearest one. As one finished another stepped in. She watched a blonde no older than herself kneel down and take four of those thick, black dicks in turn using her hands. She watched her seem to be joyful as her face was sprayed. It was so wrong, she told herself as the woman stood up and walked out of sight, not even washing her face. She saw the admiring looks on the other women. "So damn wrong," she said and realised she was rubbing herself between the legs again.... Mary-Louise found them getting into her sleep now. Her dreams were full of those black apes, chasing her down then... She could remember them like they were real after she woke up. Her love hole was wet after each dream. The next night she heard those sounds from behind the door, like they were right there on the other side. The grunts and moans were loud with pleadings for more. Mary-Louise knew what they were doing. There trying to break her mind. They were trying to make her crazy like them. Well, she and Patrick hadn't got this far for her to betray him. She knew he would stand by her and she would him. They would put up with whatever was thrown at them and win this. The door seemed to be moving slightly in time to the grunts now. Outside the window there one of those orgies going on on. No-one was wearing anything and the whores were acting like animals. On their backs, on all fours, each one being mounted like beasts. She lay on the bed and tried to wipe the images from her head but the groans and grunts from the other side of the door was louder mow. She heard the woman wanting it harder, using that other word to the nigger. She'd heard that word once in her life. An uncle who'd had too much hooch used it and got thrown out of the house for it. The whore on the other side of the door was using it freely. Two slaps hit the door and she heard the whispers full of filthy language. Words that she blushed at hearing. Mary-Louise looked away, putting a pillow over her head to block out the filthy words and filthy noises. But she had trouble ignoring the feeling between her legs. The pleasure in her love hole was making her wet again. She needed to touch herself, to rub it out of her. Soon her own moans were joining the ones from the door as the pleasure was ripping through her body. She thought of Patrick and tried to remember that night. She remembered how he felt inside her, how he sounded panting into her ear as he pushed in and out of her. She thought back to opening her eyes and seeing his face looking down at her after.... Mary-Louise cried out and sat up, gasping for breath. It was all perfect, just the way it had happened. There was the stars, the moon shining down on them and the sheets under their naked bodies. She had opened her eyes and looked up to Patrick and found the nigger smiling back at her.... TO BE CONTINUED.

Copyright (c) Robin Neal, all rights reserved, reposting without permission prohibited PET 7. DINNER PARTY I was lying on my bed reading a few minutes later when Vivian came in. "Good afternoon, Miss Pet," she said tentatively as she headed for the bathroom. I had been nastier to her, if anything, than I had been to Lucy. She was understandably wary of me. I had actually tried to hit her once during a tantrum over a bath I didn't want to take. The punishment Cissy gave me for that one had lasted all night. I didn't want to think about it. "Hi, Vivian," I said lazily. I was still wiped out from my experience in the bathroom. I hoped I hadn't left any evidence. My jumper and other clothes were in the hamper, and I had washed up and even wiped the sticky toilet seat. Now I had on a silk night dress, the first thing I had found in the nearest drawer, and no panties, although Vivian couldn't see that and would probably have said something if she knew. Our maids, always ridiculously proper, seemed to have kind of a thing about panties. I mean, I used to go without them all the time, and it didn't seem like such a big deal to me. But if Lucy or Vivian ever found me without any, even just in my room, they would get this pained look like I was being just terribly naughty and get out a pair and hand them to me, and then stand there expectantly. Sometimes that would trigger one of my fits and I'd start really acting up, but I'd usually just bitch and whine and go ahead and put them on. At least I had some say in the kind of panties I wore. I'd never had the thong kind before coming to the House, but now that I had tried them I liked them. One reason was that they just seemed more comfortable, but mainly I had gotten used to them because I was punished so often and one of the House's most common punishments was spanking or switching. When you have a serious set of fresh welts across your bottom, backless underwear is definitely a plus. Some of my outfits, though, weren't designed to be worn with panties, and in that case my maids seemed to see nothing wrong with it at all, which I found irritating. Why was it arbitrarily okay SOMETIMES? Finally, with Cissy backing them, they had mostly worn me down, since it seemed so damned crucial to everyone. But occasionally I still liked to invent sneaky ways of going without, just to be perverse. Vivian finished whatever she was doing in the bathroom and came out and started to straighten up. The first thing she did was close the drawer I had left open and pick up my uniform pumps from where they had landed. She looked at them critically and set them aside to be polished. Oops. Oh well. I was starting to get hungry and I sat up, my legs dangling over the edge of my bed, and put down my book. "How are you this afternoon, Vivian?" I offered. She looked like she thought it was a trick question. "Very well, Miss Pet," she said. She looked at me curiously, keeping her distance. "Did you enjoy the pool?" "Yeah, it was kind of fun. Did you talk to Lucy?" "Yes, Miss, she said you were feeling well today. She seemed very happy for you." "I guess I am feeling well, Vivian. When's dinner?" "Dinner is at six, Miss," she replied. "You..." A little hesitation. "...will be joining Mademoiselle and two guests in Mademoiselle's suite." She paused, waiting for me to start kicking up a fuss. "Really?" This was kind of interesting. "Not in the Dining Hall? What guests?" "Mademoiselle Shannon and one of her girls, I believe, Miss. Mademoiselle Cissy sent an invitation this afternoon." Nicole! "That sounds neat, Vivian! Is it time to get ready yet?" I was actually getting excited. Vivian eyed me suspiciously. "I think you can start any time, Miss Pet," she said slowly. "I should do Miss Janice's room, then I could come back and help you if you would like to shower now." I almost laughed. Poor Vivian, she was probably wondering if I was an impostor. There had been times when my first reaction to being told to dress for dinner would be to look for an object to throw. Preferably a breakable object, and preferably at Vivian. She was a soft, rounded blonde with bangs and ruddy cheeks, and she was very professional but lacked Lucy's perfect control. I felt sorry for mistreating her, but couldn't resist the wickedness of teasing her either. She was just so... teasable! "Okay, thanks, Vivian," I said sweetly. "I'll see you in a few minutes." "Very good, Miss Pet." Vivian curtsied in a distracted way and turned toward the door. "Oh, Vivian?" I stopped her at the door and she turned back, spooked. She almost ducked. "Yes, Miss Pet?" "You look very nice this afternoon." She stared at me for about five seconds while I beamed at her like a cherub, then closed her mouth and said, "Thank you, Miss Pet," in a totally confused tone, curtsied again and turned and went on about her business with her head cocked at an odd angle. I thought she was going to walk into the wall. I was messing with her SO seriously. Oh, Pet, how can you be so bad? I got the giggles, bouncing up and down on my bed, then caught myself and jumped in the shower. Dinner with Cissy and Nicole and her Lady. Hmmm! I wondered what we were having. Just days ago, I had hated every minute of my life at the House. Weird. Very weird. I got out of the shower, brushed my teeth ( again! ) and dried myself and did my own lotion. Vivian still wasn't back. I felt between my legs critically. Uh-oh. I got out the baby oil and the slim little razor. I was tempted to do it myself, but it was really hard for me and I didn't want to do a bad job. I compromised by shaving the rest of me and waiting for help with the delicate part. When Vivian showed up, she took over in a totally professional way. I could tell she was still amazed by how cooperative I was, but I had never given her any trouble during this particular ritual. There's something about having someone hold a razor blade against your clitoris that makes you want to cooperate with them. I stood in the shower and bent over, facing away from her, legs wide. When she was about halfway done, I couldn't resist. I whispered "Vivian!" and looked at her upside-down, between my boobs, and winked. She gasped, then when she realized she was being teased she went back to her task with a pained expression. She was done in a jiffy, and rinsed and toweled me dry. "Thanks, Vivian," I said cheerfully, straightening up and stepping out of the shower. "I can powder myself. What do you think I should wear?" "You're welcome, Miss. Actually, Mademoiselle sent something." She hesitated. "Ah... would you like to see it?" She was really careful, even though I was behaving so well. I had once grabbed a dinner dress and ripped it, and she hadn't forgotten. "Sure!" I said. I stopped at the closet, wrapped in a big fluffy towel, and stepped into a pair of casual cork-soled mules that I sometimes wore. I slid the closet door open all the way and looked in. "Where is it?" "Here, Miss Pet." It was on a hanger behind my door. I sat on my bed and she pulled off the plastic and held it up for me to see. It was a long, simple-looking sweep of sheer white silk with spaghetti straps, but it sparkled somehow. It was hard to tell more than that on the hanger, but it looked very expensive. Vivian showed me that it had matching shoes, cutaway dress pumps with slim straps and a very severe arch. "Beautiful!" I said. "Wow, look at those heels. I hope dinner's not a buffet!" Vivian put the dress back behind the door. "I trust not, Miss," she said, perfectly serious. I couldn't help snickering, but then I smiled at her fondly. "Come on, Vivian, this is fun! How should we do my hair? Cissy must want this to be a special occasion. I wish we could ask Lucy." For the first time, Vivian visibly brightened. "Would you like to, Miss Pet? I believe she's still in the maids' lounge. I'm sure she wouldn't mind." "Cool!" I enthused. "Go ask her, quick! Um, Vivian?" as she turned to go. "Tell her I said please?" Vivian curtsied and left, totally bemused. That poor girl was going to need therapy if I kept it up. For the next hour and a half, Lucy and Vivian and I experimented and giggled like schoolgirls. Vivian was much more relaxed when Lucy was with us. It was without a doubt the happiest I had been since I'd come to the House, and when we were done I stepped in front of my full-length mirror. Oh. My. God. It had looked simple on the hanger. On me it was right out of a dream. A wet dream. The dress clung like a lover, tight in all the right places. It held my boobs up and together, creating huge cleavage. It scooped down almost to the areolae. It showed slightly outrageous nipple outline. It plunged in the back almost too far, but not quite. It tucked up tight right under my butt, then swept down to the floor, the hem slightly scalloped. A drastic slit showed my right leg to the hip when I moved. It was creamy white with little flecks of dark gold all through it, and it sparkled even if I just stood there and breathed. Underwear was NOT an option. I had simply never seen anything like it, and I said "Oh..." to the mirror in a very faint and dreamy voice. I thought I might cry. Lucy and Vivian stood behind me, arms around each other, and looked ready to cry with me. It was a good thing I didn't start bawling, because I would have wrecked a classic makeup job. Both Vivian and Lucy would easily have qualified for just about any salon in the world. All our maids were like that. Lucy, though, had a special touch. She had taken the fresh blush of my day in the sun and accented it perfectly. Huge, luminous emerald eyes, ripe-peach lips and nails, and angel skin hypnotized me when I looked in the mirror. My shiny copper hair was up in a natural but elegant sweep, with a little relaxed curl artistically bothering one cheek. I stepped up close to the mirror, dropped my lashes coquettishly, and practically fell in love with myself, half drunk on my own musky perfume. I turned around and looked at my new friends. I had no idea what to say, and they knew it. I think my face said enough, at least I hope so. I would never, ever forget this moment, even if it was just a dinner party. At last, I knew what to do. I put one foot behind the other and dropped them a deep curtsy, my eyes on the floor in honest humility. Vivian lost it. She gasped and buried her face against Lucy's shoulder. Lucy kept her proud smile, a sisterly arm around Vivian, but her eyes were sparkling with tears. A knock on the door broke the mood, fortunately. Vivian answered it, wiping her eyes, as Lucy bustled around cleaning up and I started putting things in my little bag. It was one of the duty Trainers, a darkly tan Oriental beauty with china doll hair and boots. She asked Vivian formally if I was in, and then as I came to attention she presented Mademoiselle Cissy's compliments and told me I was expected for dinner. Was it my imagination, or did she pause a second when she saw me? If so, she hid it well, her lovely face imperiously serene. I thanked Vivian and Lucy again and stepped out into the hall. The Lady offered me her arm, and I took it. I was on my way. Cissy's apartment was directly below my room. The residence wings of the House were organized that way, each Lady living in a suite on either the ground floor or the third floor. The second floor ( mine ) and the fourth floor were divided into individual rooms for the girls. Each Trainer had rooms for three girls, although not all of them had three girls assigned at a given time. Cissy had one other girl, my neighbor Janice. She was a pretty ( of course ) blonde, slim and willowy, a year or so older than me. I saw her sometimes, on the way to class or something, and she seemed nice although she was as wary of my moods as everyone else was. We could never talk about Cissy, it wasn't allowed. Cissy never mentioned her name in my presence. I took it that this was customary, and presumed that Cissy spent as much time with Janice as with me, but I really had no idea. I managed to get down the big curving staircase in one piece, and in the east foyer we turned down the hall toward Cissy's. I had been this way many times. Now I was trying to be really graceful and poised, but I could remember nights when I had been literally dragged along this hall by two Trainers, cruelly restrained and on my way to be punished. My memories of those times were dark and confused, and I pushed them away with a promise to myself that I would do better starting now. It wasn't that hard, all I really had to do was WANT to be a part of the House and everything made sense. Unfair? Maybe, but was life fair in the outside world? I was still trying to deal with some very confused feelings about Cissy, though. I definitely felt different about her since the incident in my room a few days earlier and especially since my night out. I was beginning to realize that I hadn't really understood her or how she felt about me. I still wasn't sure I understood. Just because I was changing didn't mean she was going to. Would she still be mean and demanding and unsympathetic toward me all the time? I really couldn't imagine her suddenly starting to act sweet and friendly, she just wasn't that kind of person. And it was her job to train me. But couldn't she at least be fair? So much of my life was about Cissy. If we could just reach some kind of understanding, maybe the House could actually be bearable. Maybe it could be even nicer than bearable? We stopped at Cissy's door. Her name was on a shining brass plate with a little 9 next to it, representing her years as a Lady of the House. My escort knocked, and Cissy's personal maid opened the door. I was introduced and released, and stepped inside, remembering to say, "Thank you, Mademoiselle" to the Lady as she left. She nodded. I stood at attention, my purse in both hands behind my bottom, inside the door of Cissy's parlor as her maid went to get her. I stole a quick look in the wall mirror to my left, desperate to look as good as possible. Fortunately nothing had come undone. Cissy's suite was decorated in a Continental style with understated taste, beiges and pastels with black and gold accents. I could smell dinner. Yummy, I was starving by now. Cissy came in, a vision of a Russian Tsarina as always, aristocratic and cool. She wore burgundy and black, her tall, elegant body enhanced rather than revealed by her tight knee-length skirt, dark stockings and Bolero jacket. A single ruby shone in a bunch of lace at her throat. Her deep brown eyes were serene, faintly amused. She showed absolutely none of the effects from my appearance that the others had. She crossed the room to me and looked me up and down calmly. "You look very nice, Pet. Please come into the dining room," she said in her musical contralto. Every time she talked, you always thought she had a European accent until she finished and you realized she didn't. "Thank you, Cissy," I answered and followed her. I was trying to be graceful and sexy and grateful and charming and dutiful and God knew what else, and I had no idea if I was succeeding. Cissy did this to me every time. How could she be SO in control of everything when she hardly ever DID anything? To me, she seemed magical even at the times I hated her most. Mademoiselle Shannon had already arrived, and I had been right about her bringing Nicole. They both looked great. Shannon was a rather small but well-proportioned redhead with piercing gray eyes and a look of authority, dressed in white silk slacks and a black leather single-breasted jacket. Her movements were quick, energetic and efficient. Everything about her said "No nonsense!" and she had an unusual bracelet, a plain ring of stainless steel polished so bright it almost hurt the eyes. It was far too tight to slip over her hand, and I realized that it must have been welded on. Ouch! Nicole was dressed in an openly erotic style, a painted-on pair of calf-length sheer white tights that laced at the sides and allowed no underwear and no pubic hair, white pumps, and a very sheer gauzy sleeveless white top that tied and left her darkly tanned midriff bare. She looked like anyone could strip her nude in about one second with one hand. Her big nipple rings were obvious under her top. There was a pearl in her navel. Cissy introduced me, and Shannon's reaction was gratifying. Her eyes said "Wow!" at the same time that her lips said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Pet." And this was a Lady! I tried hard to remain demure. Nicole and I exchanged smiles but did not speak, since neither of us had been asked a question. Cissy's maid handed me a slim glass with a little champagne in it and I sipped. As dinner was being set by the personal maid and the night maid, Cissy and Shannon chatted on the other side of the room. The sun was low over the garden outside the French windows. Nicole and I stood at the elbows of our respective Ladies and looked attentive. The conversation was no big deal, at least the part of it I understood. It had to do with acquisitions and programs or something. When dinner was served, I was totally ready. Cissy seated me and Shannon seated Nicole, across from each other at the round dining table. We said our Thank You's and sat with our hands in our laps. Cissy waited until her guest was settled, then pivoted elegantly into her chair and asked her maid to serve appetizers and pour wine. I got about half an inch of white wine, but it was good. There were a lot of forks and glasses and stuff to manage, and one did NOT want to make a mistake at Cissy's table, but Nicole and I kept it together okay. All those hours with Mademoiselle Celine in Etiquette Class were paying off. During dinner, Cissy and Shannon continued to chat, except they occasionally asked one of us a question. None of the questions made any difference, they were just to allow us to be part of the conversation, and to make sure we were paying attention. The topics ranged from the groundskeeping at the House to the upcoming Olympics, and I got the impression that Cissy and Shannon were actually friends, not just acquaintances. They were very at ease with one another. It made the atmosphere more comfortable and I enjoyed dinner a lot. For one thing, it was delicious, although the portions I got, as always, were disappointingly small. Cissy had chosen them in advance with my weight in mind. I wound up getting enough, but Nicole looked wistfully after the maids when the last course was cleared. I had learned a trick that I promised myself I would share with her when we had a real chance to talk. I drank a lot of water with dinner, since I could have all I wanted without asking. As soon as the level in my goblet went down, the maid filled it up. I made sure I drank often and got full faster, and it also gave me something to do. While dessert was being prepared, some tiny, delightful thing that was served flaming, the conversation turned to classes, and Shannon brought up the incident in Cosmetics that afternoon. She didn't know I had been there, and asked Cissy if she had heard any more about it. It seemed that Mademoiselle Kelly was more upset than she had let on, and there were going to be repercussions of some sort. Cissy turned to me. "Pet was there, weren't you, Pet?" I dropped my eyes. "Yes, Cissy." "Did Mademoiselle Kelly say anything about further punishment for the girl?" "No, Cissy. She was still there when we were dismissed." Shannon said, "That was so strange. Do you know if they found her book?" "Yes, Celeste found it," Cissy answered. She hesitated, and I couldn't resist. "Cissy, may I please ask a question?" Cissy and Shannon both looked at me. "Go ahead, Pet," Cissy said after a second. I took a deep breath. "It was hidden in the hall outside her room, wasn't it?" Cissy sat back from the table just a bit and looked at me with an unreadable expression. "Why, Pet!" she said softly. "That is correct. It was behind a display cabinet." I dropped my eyes again. "Thank you, Cissy," I said. "You have surprised me several times lately, Pet. We will talk about this a little more later," she finished, and turned to her dessert. The conversation turned also, to other things, and in a few minutes we were all done. I didn't think the evening would end there, and I was right. Cissy and Shannon decided to have drinks and watch a movie. Cissy got up first and pulled my chair back for me, Shannon collected Nicole and we all went into Cissy's huge bedroom. There was a semicircular sofa in there, as I well knew, and Cissy showed me where to sit and waited until I was settled before she took Shannon over to a wall panel and pushed on it. It rotated just like in the movies and turned into a secret video rack with tons of tapes. Cissy and Shannon talked about what to watch for several minutes, trading suggestions about their favorites, while the maid set out brandy and snifters. Nicole was on the other side of the couch from me and we gave each other a grin. A movie! I hadn't seen a movie since I'd been at the House. This was so cool. It was almost like a date or something. I ate dinner with Cissy all the time, but in the Dining Hall, and it was pretty businesslike even when we had other people join us at our table. I remembered those dinners mostly as opportunities to pick up the wrong spoon and get punished. We had had some private dinners here, just us, and mainly they were when Cissy wanted to talk to me seriously about something, typically something I'd done wrong. They usually ended with me staying the night, too. Cissy and Shannon picked a movie and Cissy loaded it into the machine herself. She did something at a little control panel on the wall and the lights dimmed way down, and the movie started. Her TV was so big it almost wasn't like a TV. It took up half the wall. Cissy and Shannon came to sit between us on the sofa. They sat in the middle so they could talk if they wanted, and I sat next to Cissy, close but in a kind of modest way. She didn't pay much attention to me at first. Shannon was quite different. As soon as the lights were down, she peeled Nicole out of her top and pulled her right up close. She evidently wanted those luscious charms conveniently available. Nicole sighed and cuddled. In a few moments her head was on Shannon's shoulder. Shannon toyed with a nipple ring, but watched the movie. We all did. There was a low coffee table in front of us, with the brandy and four snifters that Cissy's personal maid was getting ready. She served and then Cissy had her leave and close the door. Nicole and I each got a tiny dab of brandy, and I treasured mine like gold. It smelled really good and burned my tongue in a heady way. Cissy was very moderate in her drinking, Shannon even more so. The movie was called "Somewhere in Time" and it was so romantic it almost hurt. I had never heard of it before, but it had Jane Seymour in it and I liked her, she was so sort of classy. The music was beautiful. I got so into it I didn't realize time was passing. When I looked around after a while, there was no sunset left outside Cissy's French windows. Without being obvious I could see that Shannon's hand was between Nicole's legs now, and Nicole wasn't really watching the movie very much. Cissy looked at me and asked, "Are you all right?" in a whisper, putting her hand on the back of my neck. I nodded and asked her a question with just my eyes. Cissy and I knew each other's moods very well, and she nodded and put her arm behind me. I settled my boobs against her, pulled one knee up and cuddled. She smelled like heaven; she always did. After a moment, I put my lips right next to her ear and breathed, "Thank you, Cissy," and felt it with all my heart. She knew I meant the dress and the dinner, and I think she knew I meant the compliment on the terrace too. She slipped her hand down to my hip and squeezed lightly, and I shut up and watched the rest of the movie, very content. When the movie was finished, Cissy and Shannon decided not to watch another. There was some discussion about whether Shannon ( and of course Nicole ) would stay over, and they decided not. During the most romantic parts of the movie Shannon had kissed Nicole several times, and I think she wanted her alone. Thank You's were said all around and Shannon dressed Nicole, who had a dreamy, messy-haired look and very stiff nipples. I stayed in the bedroom while Cissy saw them out. Nicole was on Shannon's arm, melted up against her so close she had trouble walking. Cissy came back in after a minute and messed with the video thing, putting it away. I stood up and faced her, attentive. It wasn't polite for me to stay seated while Cissy stood, and besides I wanted to look good, I wanted her to see the effects of the dress and shoes as much as possible. She knew it and smiled in her faintly amused, distant way. As she did a little more straightening up, she addressed me casually. "Did you like the movie?" "Yes, Cissy. Thank you again." "It was my pleasure, Pet. I enjoyed it also." Then she took off her jacket and sat on a chair facing me, legs crossed and posture perfect although she must have been tired after her long day. She swirled the last of her brandy in her snifter. She did not invite me to sit. "Pet, I believe I know how you knew where the book was, but I would like for you to tell me. Mademoiselle Shannon was very impressed by you tonight, and I told her that I thought you really had deduced it on your own. Is that true?" Her intense eyes fixed me. It was a very good thing I hadn't lied. "Yes, Cissy," I said. "I figured it out myself, or felt it. I saw Cynthia's face when she was waiting to be punished in class, and then I saw her... her panties after she was spanked. I think she wanted to be punished. She did it all herself, on purpose." "She could have done many easier, more private things to be punished for, couldn't she have? Why something so serious?" She was watching me carefully. "Well, if I wanted to be punished, punished really hard, and embarrassed at the same time, I couldn't have thought of anything better than Cynthia did. She really left her Lady and Mademoiselle Kelly no choice, since she had been punished for the same thing before. And she knew she would be caught in class, where everyone would see." Cissy's face was intent, curious almost. "And the location of the book?" "Well, I thought that if I wanted to get to class without one of my books, the best way would be to hide it between leaving my room and being formed up by the duty Trainer. Lucy would never, ever let me go without my books, and Cynthia's maid must be even more careful, since she must have gotten in trouble too when Cynthia forgot her book last time. The Trainer walks behind us all the way to class after we're mustered, and she would see if Cynthia had tried to get rid of it then. It had to be in between, and it had to be pretty well hidden or one of the other girls might have picked it up and brought it or something. Is that about right, Cissy?" "Please try not to start your sentences with 'well,' Pet. It is a poor usage." Her expression didn't change. My face fell. "I'm sorry, Cissy. I know better." "I think your logic is very good, Pet, but that doesn't explain why Cynthia wanted to be punished really hard and embarrassed, as you put it. How may we account for that?" I hesitated. "I think she just did, Cissy. I don't exactly know why, but I believe she just feels that way. Like I... I mean... as I said, I saw her panties after she was punished. She acted like she was really, really being hurt, but I think she enjoyed it." Cissy's voice went softer. "It was very perceptive of you to empathize with Cynthia's feelings in that way, with few clues. It is fairly common knowledge that she is not a well-behaved girl. Tell me, Pet, can you imagine feeling the way you believe she feels? Wanting to be punished and embarrassed, enjoying it?" I hesitated again, and when I answered I was very, very careful. "Yes, Cissy. I can imagine it. I don't think I could ever do it, but I can imagine it if I try." Cissy looked at me, swirling her snifter, with one of her unreadable expressions, for about thirty seconds that seemed like thirty minutes to me. "How was your day, today, generally, Pet?" This was not a casual question, and I didn't answer casually. I thought about it and told the truth. "It was a strange day, Cissy. I've been kind of confused all day, it must be something left over from last night. I feel different, different about the House... I'm not sure why. I haven't sorted it out yet. Most of all, I think, I feel different about myself." She waited and I continued. "I think when I look back on it, it was the nicest day I remember having, maybe ever, Cissy." I hesitated, took a deep breath and said, "Thank you for making it so nice." She looked at me for another few seconds. Then she rose gracefully and drank the last swallow of her brandy and set down the snifter. She went over to a side table and picked up a little velvet box. She held it in front of her as she stepped over to me and my breath caught. It was a jewelry box. "Listen to me, Pet," she said in an even tone. "I said that you have surprised me, and I was being truthful. One of the most important things taught at the House is an understanding of other persons' sexuality. Your thoughts about Cynthia show that you have learned or intuited more than I have realized, which pleases me a great deal. "Your performance during your training experience was very good. Surprisingly good. I was gratified to see you at the pool today. You looked excellent and behaved well. You went to class on time and prepared, and your appearance was good there also. These things have made me happy with you, but they are small compared to your improved attitude with Lucy and Vivian. That is the demeanor of a young lady, and you were not forced to it. I have been waiting a long time for this day. You have far to go and you will have setbacks, but you have a chance to become a very special girl, perhaps unique in the history of the House. Never forget that. This is for you." She opened the box and held it up for me to see. It was a necklace, brilliantly polished gold in the form of a medium-heavy chain. There was no clasp. Instead, the chain ended in two rings, and they were joined by a beautifully-made little heart-shaped padlock, also shining gold. Mounted in the padlock was a huge emerald, cut in the shape of a heart. I was dazzled by its deep glitter. I couldn't see it clearly. I looked again and realized I couldn't see because my eyes were blurred with tears. I looked up into Cissy's face, my mouth making a perfectly round O. I tried to say, "Oh, Cissy." My lips formed the words but no sound came out. While I was still frozen with shock, she took it out of the case and put it around my neck. She closed the padlock and it made a tiny bell-like sound. It was kind of tight, almost like a choker, and the padlock hung perfectly in the hollow of my throat. I proceeded to destroy my beautiful makeup. I had never had a real piece of jewelry. House girls, rarely, had gifts of jewelry from their Ladies, and wore them like badges of honor, fiercely proud. I had never imagined that I would have something like that, and now this... it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Weeks and months of pent-up emotion spilled out of me and I cried and cried and cried, holding my necklace like I thought it might disappear, and my knees gave out and I sank down to the carpet in front of Cissy and cried some more. Finally she said, "Pet," and I looked up at her. Her smile wasn't distant or snide. She reached down and put a handkerchief in my hands. "Please don't get mascara on your dress," she said. I dabbed my eyes and wiped at my cheeks. At last I could talk, and I said, "Cissy, may I ask something?" "Yes," she said in her calm way, watching me. "May I please stay with you tonight? If you don't want to sleep with me, I'll sleep on the floor. I don't want to leave you." The last was almost a sob. She smiled again. "I was planning to have you sleep with me, Pet." "Thank you, Cissy," I said, and I got up dizzily from the floor. I wiggled out of my dress right there in front of her, and laid it lovingly across the back of the sofa. I unbuckled and stepped out of my shoes, setting them carefully by the dress. Wearing only my necklace and with the most perfect posture I could manage, I walked on my toes over to Cissy's bed, turned it down and dug out the shackle from underneath the dust ruffle. I snapped it on my ankle, slid underneath the covers and waited for my Lady. ***** In episode 8, Pet's old bad behavior rears its head. How will she be punished? Will she revert to her former hateful personality?

Marriane's Day (M+F, wife, size) Original story by Arjun Mafaaz Reworked by SHATTIMS --------------------------------------------------------------------- A wife is seduced by two of her husband's buddies while he watches, incredulous. It is a life-changing event for her, and for him as well. This story was posted in ASSTR by Arjun Mafaaz as "Just another day". The email address given with it is no longer valid, so I have not been able to ask for permission to publish my version. I found his story super hot, but the punctuation and run-on paragraphs bugged me. After I cleaned that up I felt it needed a number of other small tweaks, and one significant change in the order of events. Then I decided to add an epilog, which put a somewhat different cast on the story. Honestly, however, this one is still mostly Arjun's. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Sometimes everyday life just becomes a monotonous routine and you just slog through it one day at a time. You know when you are going to be having a good time or a hard time and what's gonna happen during that time. You know not to expect surprises or miracles during those times. If, during this phase of life, something out of the ordinary does happen it really hits you as totally unexpected. Something of this sort just happened to me, something totally unexpected and unbelievably surprising. My name is Peter Brown and I am a happily married man of 31. My wife, Marriane, is 27 and we have been married for 3 years now. Marriane is 5' 2" tall and a beautiful brunette with shoulder length hair, dark black eyes and snow white skin. She has a couple of good sized soft round breasts with really cute perky nipples that become hard and erect when she's in heat. Her body is like that of a goddess, with long and perfectly shaped legs, thanks largely to the gym she goes to regularly. She is totally nuts about having a figure to die for, and I can't say that she's failing in achieving that goal. In short, on first sight you could mistake her for a super model. Marriane and I met when I was 27 and she 23. I worked in a law firm as an attorney back then, and I still do, though in a different firm. At that time Marriane's brother had been arrested on the charges of vehicle theft, and because of that she made several trips to our firm. I was handling her brother's case, and it was love at first sight, well, at least for me. Her brother got off very lightly, largely due to my personal efforts. Anyway, on to our love life, of which there isn't much to mention at the present, but it wasn't always that way. I asked her out for a dinner date and we made love that very night, a night which I will always treasure. It was the start of something really special. Despite our ages we were both reasonably young and inexperienced in matters of sex, but together we had a great love life. I remember Marriane during that time as the hottest lady in bed one could ever imagine. She used to scream and squeal like anything during our love making. I was always the first one to get tired and zonk out. The sex gradually cooled down with the passage of time, and eventually faded away into a sort of nothingness. On the few, and really rare, occasions that we do have sex now it's quite tame, and almost like fulfilling a duty. Marriane has never been into oral sex, and I can't remember the last time she gave me a blowjob. On a few rare occasions, and that also at the start of our marriage, Marriane has allowed me to eat her pussy. I was sometimes able to bring her to orgasm that way, but not always. Marriane comes from a very close knit family, and her soul has all the virtues of love and togetherness filled to the brim. That is, I am sure, why she has never been unfaithful to me. Otherwise, given her passionate nature, my relatively small cock, my lack of skill with it, and especially the recent lack of sex between us, she most surely would have been tempted. There is no way that I can have been satisfying her womanly desires fully. Marriane loves to have her friends come over, loves to chat and gossip with them. Other than that she is happy to be a good and loyal housewife, doing the daily chores and maintaining the house as if it was something really special. We generally have a party at least once a month just to enjoy the company of our friends and dear ones. My friends envy me because of my beautiful wife, and on more than one occasion nearly all of them have tried to make a move on her, but she has always ignored their remarks and moves. Actually, I guess it would be fair to say that my wife thinks my friends are the scum of the earth, and considers herself way above them, especially Jerry and Mark. Mark is my colleague at the law firm, while I met Jerry because he was Mark's friend. Jerry works as a physical trainer in a renowned health organization. Mark and Jerry are both a couple of really hot wired guys, always talking about girls, sex, money, and stuff, and when I am in the mood I really enjoy their company. You can begin to see why Marriane despises Mark and Jerry so much. Being full of kink and sin is one thing, but influencing me, her husband, with such qualities is quite another. She always tries to persuade me to avoid them as much as possible. Whenever Mark and Jerry are around the house Marriane walks around as if she's a Queen. She has an air of arrogance, and she pounces on any opportunity to be rude and unfriendly with them. Both Mark and Jerry call Marriane the 'stuck up bitch' behind her back. Jerry is 30, and one of the fittest males I have ever met, with a 6' 2" frame and an incredibly muscular body. Mark isn't that far behind, and at 32 he's in pretty good shape himself though a bit smaller in height. Mark also has a particularly well built chest and biceps. Both of them are way ahead me in the race of being physically fit. Both of them love to talk dirty and of their recent conquests in seducing various ladies, some of them being the wives of my own friends. At least once or twice a week Mark and Jerry come over and we have a lot of fun drinking beers and watching a game of baseball or basketball on TV. If Marriane isn't around then we really blast off, making jokes and talking in loud voices and sometimes even calling some girls Mark and Jerry know, just to tease them and talk dirty over the phone. On one of those occasions they pulled out a pair of pictures they had in their wallets. The pictures were almost identical, and I wouldn't be surprised if they were taken at about the same time. Each of them was sitting naked on the edge of a bed, with a very pretty blonde on her knees with her head between his legs. You could easily see that each girl was sucking the end of a cock. I couldn't tell how much was inside each blonde's mouth but, from the part I could see, Mark's cock looked like it must be at least seven inches long and reasonably thick. Jerry was clearly even better hung than Mark, his cock being very thick, with what looked like an incredible eight or more inches still exposed. This week Mark and Jerry came by on Sunday at about 10 AM and, since Marriane had gone out in the car to do some shopping, we really started to get into the act. Mark had brought the beer and Jerry had brought a couple of porno flicks. I was quite surprised and somewhat worried when Jerry told me about the movies, since I knew Marriane could come back and catch us in the act. Jerry just thumped my back and said, "Come on buddy, be a man and have some good ol' fun for once." I told them, "I am a man, and I don't have to prove it by watching some dumb porno flick." Mark chimed in with, "Yeah, sure, if you're a real man you can prove that by giving that ice princess of yours a good humping while letting us watch." That made both Jerry and me crack up since I knew Marriane would never let these two dum dums even have a good view of her cleavage, let alone show off any of her really interesting wares. Anyway, after some prodding and poking by both of them the show was put on and the beer passed around. The film featured a beautiful brunette with an innocent face married to a wimp of a husband who couldn't satisfy her with his puny dick. As the film moves on, the housewife finds an opportunity to get screwed by her hubby's best friend and a couple of his buddies. I soon realized that Mark and Jerry had chosen that porno specifically, and that they must be thinking about Marriane and me, and more particularly about Marriane and themselves. As the first man in the flick was shoving his huge cock deep inside the wet and tight pussy of the housewife, I caught both Mark and Jerry looking at the reaction on my face. At first I was feeling quite uptight with their nerve, but as the view focused on the wife's face and the passion written on it, then back to the stud's thick and rigid cock pounding away again and again deep into her horny twat, I started to feel a strange tingling in my loins. As the cock came in and out of the pussy I could clearly see that it was well lubricated by now from the vaginal juices of the housewife. Some of those juices were dribbling down onto her ass making it gleam as the light fell on it. The woman's eyes were wide open and her mouth was open and she was taking in short, quick, raspy breaths in rhythm with the cock plunging in and out of her pussy. In between her gasps as she came and as the stud rammed his cock deep into her pussy time and again she managed to blurt out, "Ooo YE-ESSSSS YESSSSSS ohhh G-GOD unghh S-S-SOO G-GOOD OOHHH OHHHHH P-P-PLEASE DON'T S-STOP OOOOOO AAAAAHHHHH F-FUCK M-M-ME FUCK MEEEEEEE." By now I had a raging hard on which was quite visible and I could hear Mark and Jerry chuckling away quietly. It wasn't because I hadn't had sex for quite some time; rather it was the simple fact of the beautiful and innocent looking housewife in the film cheating on her husband behind his back and loving every moment of it. Then something happened that I could never have imagined. As I saw the housewife's legs wrapped tightly around the stud's back and heard the sounds of the bed creaking each time the man drove his cock deep into her pussy making her gasp with pleasure, the face of my beautiful wife Marriane flashed through my mind. The thought of her getting royally fucked by another well hung man made my heart skip a beat. Just the thought of my ever so faithful wife getting her lovely tender and tight pussy creamed by a huge cock deep inside her pounding away ferociously, making her squeal with ecstasy as she cums again and again, made me come close to an orgasm myself. I knew that if I kept this up I'd cum without even touching my cock and that is exactly what happened. The man in the flick gave the married cheating pussy a few final deep pelvic thrusts with his cock as he came deep inside it, the wife screamed with the pleasure of another mind boggling orgasm, and I creamed in my pants. Mark and Jerry were laughing their heads off by now looking at the growing stain on my crotch. Not only was I feeling embarrassed with the situation, but my mind was going through all sort of mixed up emotions of lust, confusion and shame at having thought about my beautiful wife in such a way. Jerry said, "Hey, man, tell us the truth. Didn'tcha think about Marriane getting serviced like the way this bitch was getting it deep inside her pussy?" I pretended to be quite upset with Jerry and said, "What, are you crazy or something, Jerry? I would never think of Marriane in such a way and for your information I just thought the scene was very hot, so..... I guess I jacked off." "But, Pete, you din't even touch yer cock, man," Mark said laughing. Trying to find an excuse I said, "It's just that I haven't watched a porno for a long time." "Yeah, right," said Jerry. Trying to change the subject I told Mark to put on the other movie. Mark chuckled and said, "Sure thing, Pete." The movie started, but it was just another regular fuck and suck flick and I soon lost interest in it. I excused myself to go to the bathroom to change my pants. As I was coming back down the hallway I heard the distinctive screech of what could only be Marriane's voice coming from the living room. She must have just come in and found Mark and Jerry sitting on the sofa watching the porno flick. I entered the living room with the feeling of impending doom, and there was Marriane as I had seen her many times when she was mad, only this time she had totally lost it. She was screaming like hell, and standing face to face with Mark and Jerry who didn't seem to know what to do about it. "A PORNO FILM! A GODDAMN PORNO, AND IN MY HOUSE!! WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLES ARE YOU TWO? DON'T YOU HAVE ANY RESPECT AT ALL FOR OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES?" Marriane's face was red and her eyes full of disgust as she was waving and pointing while scolding my 2 friends like a couple of school kids. "And WHERE is that worthless husband of mine? The nerve of him! I'm SURE he must have been watching with keen interest alongside you two wankers." It's strange, but whenever Marriane gets angry she looks really sexy with that cute little nose of hers twitching and those luscious lips moving up and down releasing obscenities. She was wearing a cute frilly sort of a casual white dress with red roses and green leaves all over it. The dress only reached down to mid thigh so that her gorgeous legs were tantalizingly displayed. We could all see that she was wearing a white bra beneath the dress, and I guessed the panties must be white too, because that's the way she likes it. She was looking like a goddess standing there in sandals with her hands on hips. Whenever she moved her silky black hair would bounce up and down, and her full breasts would sway to and fro. "Hi, honey," I said sheepishly, knowing full well what was about to come. She turned around and shouted, "HI HONEY, MY ASS, YOU FUCKING PERVERT." Like I said, Marriane does spew out obscenities when she's mad, but rarely have I heard her say "fuck", and never when anyone else was around. "How the DAMN HELL could you have done this, Peter, sitting here like a pervert with your fucked up friends watching pornos?" I could see that Mark and Jerry were getting fed up with all this verbal abuse, and Jerry said, "Hey you should watch your tongue Marriane. I mean, sure, we did something wrong but like, hey, we are sorry. It won't happen again." If Marriane was angry before, she completely lost it after hearing this and walked straight up to Jerry and slapped him hard across his face making him wince with pain. "THIS IS MY FUCKING HOUSE AND I'M GONNA DO WHATEVER I WANT AND I DON'T WANT YOUR FUCKING OPINION." Mark was looking surprised, and a bit angry, too, at seeing his friend being slapped. He just managed to say, "Hey..." before he too had a burning cheek with a red mark after the distinct sound of "SLAP." The porno was still running and a cute little blonde was getting her brains fucked out by another well hung dude. The blonde screamed "AAAAHH OOOHHH ! YESSS....YESSS ! FUCK MEE F-FUCK M-M-MEEEE..." as the huge cock pounded away into her tight little pussy. That was enough to divert Marriane's attention to the TV screen and she kept silent for a few moments watching the girl squeal with ecstasy as she came. When the guy in the movie took out the whole of his extremely big cock from the freshly creamed and wet twat I saw a look of surprise cross Marriane's face. It was quite obvious that she had never seen such an excellent specimen of a cock before. Mark and Jerry were watching Marriane's reaction with great interest and the both of them seemed to be thinking something quite fast. I, too, was quite surprised at Marriane's sudden interest in the movie. She had completely forgotten about continuing her scolding and shouting. As the scene moved on to another couple locked in passionate lovemaking, Marriane continued to watch it with keen interest. Marriane's eyes were wide open as she watched the girl with auburn hair in the film getting her pussy rammed again and again by an erect cock that was long and thick. I noticed Marriane's breathing had picked up a little. "You like that, don't you?" Jerry said with a devilish grin. Marriane didn't say a word, but just walked over to the sofa and sat down slowly. I couldn't believe it, my wife, my sweet and ever so loyal Marriane, was enjoying watching a porno film. Mark and Jerry looked at each other then slowly walked towards Marriane and sat down on either side of her. She ignored them, and was sitting there breathing deeply. I watched speechlessly as Jerry slowly moved his hand onto Marriane's naked thigh and gently started rubbing it in a slow teasing motion. Mark followed suite and placed his hand on her other thigh. Surely, I thought, Marriane is going to strike out angrily any time now, but she just kept her eyes fixed on the pussy and the cock in the film. Jerry now hiked up Marriane's dress a bit exposing part of her white panties. Mark moved his hand up to her breasts, and before long he was squeezing and fondling them at will. Still Marriane kept quite still, her eyes locked on the screen. Jerry was massaging her thigh moving closer to her panties and I watched in complete amazement as Marriane opened up her legs a bit making it more convenient for Jerry. I was suddenly aware of a very hard and almost painful erection that was cramping my pants. Mark was now nuzzling into Marriane's neck, kissing it every now and then. Marriane just sighed and closed her eyes, tilting her head towards Mark. Mark kissed her below the chin and then on the chin, then as Marriane parted her lips he flicked out his tongue and licked her lower lip before enveloping it with his lips. It was the sexiest kiss I had ever seen, with Marriane's slightly lipstick covered luscious lips moving slowly as Mark's mouth ravaged them as if he were drinking honey from her. "Smakkk, sluuurpp, mmmmm......(sigh)." From the actions of their cheeks I could see that their tongues must be probing deep into each other's mouths. Marriane slowly fell back on the sofa behind where Jerry was sitting, with Mark following her down, still kissing her. She was flat on her back with Jerry's hand on her panties and Mark's rubbing her naked tummy beneath the dress as he continued to kiss her. Jerry now pushed Marriane's dress up to her neck while she and Mark continued to kiss deeply. Jerry squeezed her breast briefly through her bra, then began to kiss and bite it. She moaned, and started moving her pelvis up and down against Mark's body. Jerry slipped his hand under her back and unhooked her bra, then slid his hand up under it to stroke her breast and explore her hard nipple. Mark was still ferociously kissing her lips and nose and Marriane was responding hotly as she placed her hand behind his head, pulling him tight against her. Damn! It was the longest and sexiest kiss imaginable. Without taking out my cock I had started rubbing my crotch feverishly with my hand. I watched mesmerized as Mark slid the hand he had on her belly down inside her panties, and began to rub her pussy. Marriane's moans turned into wails, and her pelvis was now jerking violently up and down. Finally Mark pulled away from her lips and started sliding down her body, kissing her chest and belly as he went. That left the field wide open for Jerry, who hiked up her bra towards her neck to join her bundled up dress. In fact her mouth and lower face were covered by her clothes, so I could just see her eyes, which were staring wildly into space. But Jerry's attention was focussed on her breasts, and he attacked them with his mouth, licking all around each nipple and then sucking it deep into his mouth. Meanwhile Mark's kisses had reached her belly button, and she had begun moaning, "Yes, yes, more, more!" Mark was more than happy to oblige, and in one swift move pulled down her panties exposing her shaved pussy. Now Marriane always tries to keep her pussy free of hair, as she once told me that she gets itchy while exercising in the gym if there is any hair down there. Mark's jaw dropped at the sight of the freshly shaved pussy and I must admit it was a very sexy sight to behold. But he didn't stare for long, quickly moving his face towards her pussy and making direct contact with his tongue, resulting in an, "OoOHH!" from Marriane as her body shivered. Mark continued to eat her pussy as Jerry kissed her ripe breasts and nibbled on her perky nipples, which I couldn't help noticing had shot straight out and seemed to be very firm and hard. Marriane was pounding her pussy into Mark's face as he continued with his vigorous licking. "OH ! OH ! OH !" she was moaning with pleasure. I stood there in total disbelief watching my sweet wife approach an orgasm. Marriane had never approved of oral sex, as I have mentioned before, and even on the few occasions that she did do it I had rarely seen her climax. But she was clearly loving this session, courtesy of my two close friends. She was thrusting her hips wildly into Mark's face now, which I could see was quite wet with her vaginal juices. "OOOOHHHH" she moaned much louder this time and a moment later "Y-Y-YESSS ! YES ! YESSSS.......OOOHH G-GOD I-I'M C-C-CUMMING YESSSS!!!" As soon as she had calmed down a bit Mark pulled his face away, and she moaned, "D-Don't stop! Why did you stop? PLEASE....." But Mark had other plans. I watched him undo his zipper and pull down his jeans, releasing that oversized cock of his. It was rigid as a pole, and the knob was purple red with excitement, giving it an almost angry looking appearance. Marriane gasped at the size of Mark's cock. It was at least as big as any of the cocks she had been drooling over in the porn film. Mark put his hands on Marriane's knees and slowly vaulted himself up over her. Jerry moved away from her, and he, like me and Marriane herself, watched with deep concentration as the stiff cock approached my wife's beautifully wet and shaved twat. It took me a moment to register the fact that Mark was going to fuck Marriane. My loving, innocent Marriane who had been a virgin when I married her and who had never seen, let alone touched, another man's cock other than mine. She was going to get fucked by one of my best friends right here in our house on our sofa. I knew I should have done something to stop this from happening but I just stood there in shock and lust unable to move; confused but sexually aroused to a degree I never had been before. The head of Mark's cock made contact with Marriane's throbbing tight pussy. She kept still, very still, passion and apprehension written all over her beautiful face. Mark rubbed his dick up and down her molten pussy a few times before he pushed in slowly. I could see that Marriane's panties hung on the ankle of her right leg and she still had her sandals on with her legs sticking up in the air and her toes tightly curled. Mark's shaft was so much thicker than mine that I wondered how much trouble he would have getting it in, but the answer was none at all. Her slimy cunt was more than ready for it, and he just kept sliding it in and in. God, but it was long! I don't know when, but I had taken out my hard cock and I was stroking it ferociously with my hand. Mark kept pushing in and Marriane was thrashing her head from side to side, the veins in her neck clearly visible with her teeth clenched tightly. With one last forceful plunge he plowed the final two inches into her tight pussy. Marriane came right then and there so strongly that I took a step back in surprise. Mark didn't move a muscle. He just kept still as Marriane came and came. She had wrapped her legs tightly around his back and clenched the sofa so hard with her fingers that her knuckles had gone white. Her whole body tensed as she experienced the most pleasurable orgasm of her life. There she was, my Marriane, with her lips parted and eyes wide open and glassy. I knew she was cumming even though she wasn't uttering a word. She literally couldn't because of the sheer force and pleasure of the orgasm. All she could manage in the final moments of a long and hard orgasm was to twitch her nose and groan, "HNNNGHHH." Then Mark really started to get into the act. At first he drove his cock slowly in and out of her oh so creamy and tight pussy, making her squeal with delight. Gradually he picked up his pace pumping faster and faster, in and out, in and out of her horny twat. Mark was really in rhythm now and pounding away into Marriane's wet tender pussy at a rapid pace. Before lurching onto another spasmodic orgasm that shook her whole body Marriane looked me directly in the eyes as Mark kept ramming away into her. Her pupils were dilated and she was panting and sucking in air at a rapid pace. Her face was flushed and her whole body was covered in sweat. "P-P-PETER....OH ! OH ! OHH G-GODDDD ... H-HE'S F-FUCKING M-M-MEEE P-PETE! ... I'M GONNA CUMM !! YES ... YESSSS OH !! OH AAAAAAAAAAHHH ......." I couldn't believe what was happening. I was looking right into my wife's beautiful eyes as her pussy was getting pounded relentlessly by one of my best friends. Here was my decent wife who loved her family and hated my kinky friends getting her brains fucked out by Mark who she had always considered to be a pervert and with whom she was mad as hell less than an hour ago. I don't think Mark even knew I was there. He just kept pounding harder and harder into Marriane's cunt, and it wasn't long before she was wracked in yet another mind blowing orgasm. This time she was screaming and squealing with ecstasy. "UNGGHHH, UNGHHH.... OOOO YESSS... YES... YES... YES... G-GOD AAAAHHH I'M C-CUMMING I-I'M CUMMING OHHHHHHH ........." I jacked off right then simultaneously with Marriane's climax, shooting cum all over the carpet. My hand was a blur rapidly moving up and down on my leaking cock. She obviously triggered Mark's climax at the same time, because he was gasping and grunting and jerking, but now keeping his cock fully implanted at its maximum depth in her cunt. Eventually he pulled his softening prick out of her, and she gasped and flopped her head back as her orgasm gradually passed away. But of course the show was not over yet. As Mark pulled away from her, Jerry dropped his pants, stepped up close to her face, and in an almost demanding voice said, "Marriane." She opened her eyes to look at him and gasped, her eyes becoming saucers. Jerry had the thickest and longest cock you can imagine, hard and erect. From the picture I had guessed his cock had to be more than 8 inches long, but up close I swear it looked like nearly a foot. And thick! This monster was the size of a very large cucumber. Jerry slipped between Marriane's legs and let the tip of his shaft touch her pussy. She shuddered and moaned, "Ohhh, Ohhh, Ohhh." "You want it in you, you really want it in you, don't you?" he hissed. She seemed incapable of forming words, but she grabbed his neck, pulled his face down to hers, and started kissing him wildly. Meanwhile her ass was moving up and down, shoving her slimy hole against his giant cock head. That was all the answer he needed, and he started working his amazing tool into her. Despite the reaming Marriane had just gotten from Mark, it was obvious that Jerry was having difficulty in entering her pussy. As soon as the huge head of his cock disappeared into my sweet little housewife's shaved cunt I heard her gasp loudly, almost as if in surprise. Then as he began to inch that obscene member into her she began to scream, probably in a combination of pain and passion. She spread her knees as far apart as possible in an attempt to open herself up wider, and that gave me a perfect view of the nine inches of Jerry's cock that were still exposed. HOLY SHIT! I could see her pussy wrapped ever so tightly around that thick cock. Maybe I was imagining things, but I swear I could see her pussy throbbing and moving around Jerry's cock as he kept shoving it in further. He would slowly move out half an inch, in an inch, out half an inch, in an inch, working his way deeper and deeper into her. Yes, there was no doubt of it. She was cumming and cumming. Every time he pulled back a bit cum oozed out of her pussy and dribbled onto her buttocks and the sofa making a large wet spot. I don't know how she took it all, but finally there she was, her tender pussy stretched beyond limits. Even her lower stomach seemed to bulge out a bit with the size of Jerry's cock deep, deep, within her. He just held it there motionless while she continued to cum, jerking and grunting in her passion. Finally she calmed down enough to whisper, "Do it, Jerry, do it NOW!" Slowly he began pulling that incredible weapon out of her, until he had exposed about 6 inches of it, then he rammed it home again. Just one stroke, and she was over the top again. Once again he paused and let her calm down. Then he did it again. Over and over this happened, 7 inches out, SLAM; 8 inches out, SLAM; 9 inches out, SLAM; and her climaxes just seemed to keep getting bigger and bigger. This was beginning to look like a marathon. It was definitely not going to end any time soon. I noticed that Marriane's mouth and pussy were looking pretty much alike, shaped in an 'O'. The tissues of her clit were clinging onto Jerry's thick cock and stretched out whenever his cock came out after a deep plunge within her twat. Marriane was looking Jerry straight in the eyes with a look which could only be described as worshipful. His strokes were coming a little faster now, and she was cumming continuously. She was shouting hysterically with sheer excitement, and I thought surely the neighbors must hear her. But Jerry kept pounding away into her horny pussy never missing a stroke, his balls making a loud noise slapping Marriane's cum soaked ass each time he plunged in. The walls of her vagina had obviously become so distended by now, and the end of it so ballooned, that he no longer had any problem moving freely within her. Partly for the same reason, I am sure, plus the exhaustion she must have been feeling after an hour or more of hard fucking with uncounted climaxes, she seemed to have stopped cumming. Not that she had stopped being wildly enthusiastic about the action; she was still making primitive noises and encouraging him on. "UNGHH UNGHH YES YESS FUCK MEE F-FUCK EEEE YEEEEEESS OOOHHH OOOHHH ....." Jerry had leaned forward and was kissing Marriane passionately and at the same time pounding away deep into her. Marriane was moving her hips in tune with Jerry's thrusts while her legs were locked around his back. Jerry was obviously quite skilled with his cock and he was slowly bringing her back to yet another peak of excitement. And now, at long last, I could see that he was nearing an orgasm himself as his rhythm broke slightly and his thrusts were starting to vary. Suddenly his whole body lurched forward, driving his cock to the deepest confines of Marriane's vagina as he started to cum. His face was a mask of passion as he kept shooting cum deep into her stretched pussy. I had been pumping my own cock furiously, and I echoed Jerry's action, shooting my cum across the living room toward them. As Jerry's cum kept pouring into Marriane's belly she squealed like a baby, and hit yet another orgasm. "YEEEESSS .... YEEEEES ... OOOOOO." Jerry groaned and with one final thrust he delivered the last drops of his cum into the pulsating pussy of my well fucked wife. Marriane gasped and lay quite still as Jerry shuddered and fell on top of her, spent and motionless. He lay there for a moment before Mark pushed him aside, making Marriane gasp as her pussy lost the warmth of Jerry's huge throbbing cock for the first time in an hour. There was a loud 'PLOP' as Jerry's cock exited Marriane's freshly ravaged love hole. Mark then grabbed Marriane's legs and in one swift motion drove his fully recharged cock once again into her cavernous twat. He started pounding into her, but I guess they both must have been hoping for more stimulation than her slimy and distended pussy could provide, because they switched their leg positions, with her legs together and him straddling them. Then he set up a rapid pace into Marriane's hot pussy, and she was responding like a wild cat, scratching his back and lifting her ass completely off the sofa to meet him each time he drove his cock into her. He grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head as he started growling and pumping even faster. It couldn't have been more than five minutes altogether before he was unloading deep in her cunt. As his cum poured into her she climaxed again, shaking and shuddering as if she was out in the cold on a winter night. Just as quickly as Mark had penetrated her pussy, he pulled his cock out of it, and in less than a minute both he and Jerry were dressed and out of the house without uttering another word. I sank down on the floor next to Marriane's face, looking her in the eyes as she looked back at me with a nearly blank face that had a hint of satisfaction written on it. She had spread eagled her legs again, and I could see that where there had been a clean, tight, shaved pussy when this all started, there was now a gaping hole with cum all over it, running down off her body onto the sofa. Just beside her buttocks there was a huge wet stain on the sofa. How long had it been, I wondered. I glanced at my watch and was amazed to see that it was after two o'clock. I tried to think back. I didn't really know what time Marriane had gotten home, but it was not long after we started the second porn film. The guys had gotten there about ten, and the first movie couldn't have been more than ninety minutes. That meant she had to have been home before noon, which was well over two hours ago! She'd been fucking without stopping for at least two hours! After a few moments of silence she got up with some difficulty and gingerly walked off to the bathroom with her panties still dragging from the ankle of her right leg. I noticed that she wasn't walking normally, but instead rather bowlegged. I guessed that with the abuse her pussy had gone through today she would be sore for a week. Well, that's it really. We had a long talk that afternoon and Marriane told me, while sobbing away uncontrollably, that she had lost control over herself badly and that she had never felt so ashamed and embarrassed with what she had done, and that she wanted to forget the events of this day as though nothing had happened. Then she apologized for being unfaithful to me and asked me to forgive her. I said it was OK, and that it was my fault, too, for letting things get out of hand. But then I stuck my foot in it. "I should have stopped Mark and Jerry before it was too late. It's just that when I saw you enjoying yourself so much getting screwed with those huge cocks in your pussy, I just lost control of myself as well, and wanted it to go on and on." I knew I had said something wrong, because after a pause ..... SLAP. Epilog About 7 o'clock that night Marriane told me she was dead tired, and she was going to turn in early. It's no wonder, after what she had been through! She ended up sleeping like a log for 12 hours straight. I spent the evening writing up everything that had happened that day, while it was still fresh in my mind, and you've just finished reading it. I was right about how sore she was going to be. It's now six days later, and she has been walking around gingerly all week. And for the first few nights she told me she was sorry, but she was kind of afraid to sleep with me. She knew I wouldn't intentionally do anything to hurt her, but I might accidentally bump against her in the bed, and she was really very tender. On Wednesday she finally let me sleep in my own bed again, but she certainly didn't make any moves to be romantic, and I knew better than to push it. That all changed last night, Friday night. As soon as we were both in bed she snuggled up against me and started kissing me. I figured it wouldn't hurt to play with her boobs a bit, and sure enough she seemed to love that. Before I knew it she had pulled her nightgown up and was asking me to kiss her nipples. That was really turning her on, and I could feel her pelvis starting to move back and forth and push against me. "What the hell," I thought, and moved my hand down to her belly. Her pelvis was really setting up a rhythm now, so I slid my hand down to her slit. I slipped a finger between her pussy lips and was shocked by how wet she was. Not just wet, but slimy wet. I couldn't stop myself. I just had to get my finger into her fuck hole. Once I got there she started moaning, "More, more", and indeed it seemed that one finger wasn't going to be enough. So I added a second, and then a third, and I couldn't believe how big her hole was. Soon I was ramming all four fingers up into her love canal as far as I could reach. I'd been sucking her tits vigorously during all this, but now I pulled my mouth away and said, "Honey, I want to make love!" "Yes, yes," she said, shuddering with passion. Needless to say, I was more than ready, so I quickly stripped off my PJs and climbed on top of her. What a difference from the last time I had fucked her! Her tight little hole had turned into a big sloppy tube. But I wanted it bad, so I started pumping into her. I was able to get some friction by shifting from side to side, and after about five minutes I built up to a climax. It sure wasn't the hottest sex we had ever had, but it did give me some relief. Unfortunately I think that, weak as it was for me, it was a lot less than that for her. When I came she just gave a little whimper, then kissed me tenderly. This morning she was extremely moody. And bitchy. And antsy. I'm sure she didn't mean it, but she was making the house a living hell for me. She was yelling at me for everything I did and for everything I didn't do. In between yelling spells she was pacing the floor, or going into the bedroom and slamming the door. Then she'd come out later with her eyes red. By noon time I was frantically trying to come up with a good excuse to get out of there. But she solved the problem for me by announcing after lunch that she had to get out of the house, and was going to go for a drive. Boy was that a relief! She was gone for about three hours, and I managed to get the lawn mowed and some chores done around the place. When she came back she was a different woman, She was calm, and quiet, and smiling all the time. She fixed dinner for me, and we chatted over the meal. Once she had taken the dishes out to the kitchen she came back and announced that she thought they could wait until morning. In fact, she said, she was dead tired, and was going to go to bed early. She hoped I wouldn't mind staying up by myself. Suddenly it all came together. Out for a drive; gone for three hours; calm and happy when she got back; dead tired; going to bed early. I knew without a doubt where she had gone. I was feeling terribly jealous and lonely, but who could blame her? She had tried with me last night, but it had been nothing. And that after the mind blowing, world changing, experience she had been through a week ago. She had said that she was going to forget that it had ever happened, but I should have known that was impossible. She would never, ever, forget that Sunday, and for the rest of her life she would ache to experience something like it again. Thinking about that I slowly came to realize something else. She wasn't the only one who had loved last Sunday and would never forget it. Hell, I had come three times while the guys were here, and watching her was the hottest thing I had ever done in my life. Last night was nothing in comparison. And today ... if I had known where she was while she was out it would have been one of the longest and most agonizing three hour periods of my life. I promptly cooked up a plot. Tomorrow morning I would tell her that I wanted to invite Mark and Jerry over. I can just imagine her face turning white as a sheet as she pleads with me not to do it. But I'll bet I can convince her to change her mind. And if I do ... OH, YESS!!

But I'm Married (MFM, oral, share) --------------------------------------------------------------------- Put a bachelor who never flirts with married women together with a faithful wife who is devoted to her husband, and what do you get? Fiery passion, in this case. Both of them are trying to desperately to control their emotions, but will they succeed? And what about her beloved hubby? --------------------------------------------------------------------- What is it that makes a man and a woman catch fire the moment they set eyes on each other? I've heard it called hormones, or pheromones, or just the accidental coinciding of two vulnerable personalities. I'm a scientist, but not in the life sciences, so I don't understand that kind of stuff. What I do know now is that it really happens, because it happened to me. Jan had just been hired, and her manager was taking her around to introduce her to all the people she might be working with. I felt it the instant our eyes first met, but of course I tried my damnedest to keep from showing anything. I couldn't see any visible sign in Jan's face, either, and yet I somehow knew that it had hit her the same way it hit me. Weeks later we talked about that morning, and she confirmed my suspicion. She also said she had thought the same thing I had, that she couldn't see anything in my face, but she somehow knew it had hit me too. I was in development and she had been hired in documentation, so we weren't going to be working especially close to each other, though we would have some contacts. For about a minute, during that first meeting, my mind was reeling with possibilities. I'm single, but I make it rule not to date anyone on my team. Her job was far enough away that the rule didn't apply. Then I saw the rings on her left hand, and rule #2 took over. I'm not the kind of guy who hits on married women. I managed to avoid her completely for a week, but then I was looking something up in our manual to prove a point to a team member and I spotted an error that had been there for who knows how long. Normally I would have just sent an e-mail about it, but I talked myself into believing that this one needed to be handled in person. Which is how I ended up standing in front of Jan's cubicle. "Hi, Jan," I introduced myself, "You probably don't remember me, but I'm on the WhiteWolf development team. My n..." "Your name is Ron," she cut in, "of course I remember you." "That's amazing! Do you really remember the names of all the people you met that morning?" She flushed. "No, I, well, I, I was sort of guessing. You mean I really got it right?" OK, score one for her for a quick recovery. But she obviously did remember my name, and there was something special about that for her, and she nearly panicked when she realized her secret was out. Oops, we're staring into each other's eyes again. Time for a quick recovery on my part. "Sorry to interrupt you, but I spotted an error in our manual. Would you be able to take notes on it, and see that it gets fixed in the next revision?" No question, that was a definite sigh of relief. I wonder what she was thinking I might be here for? "Sure, I can take notes, and see that something gets changed," she said a bit hesitantly, "but I hope you don't think I understand all this stuff yet. I could easily mess it up." I chuckled, "I'll let you in on a secret. Even I don't understand all this stuff yet, and I'm supposed to be the team leader." "Yes, I remember," she whispered, looking down at the floor. "But I think you're putting me on." She was looking into my eyes again. "People say you know more about WhiteWolf than anyone." "No, I'm not putting you on." You don't know it, I thought, but there is no way I would dream of trying to pull anything over on you. "WhiteWolf is a very complicated project, and no one really understands it completely. But don't worry, we always go through a review cycle for manual revisions. If you should mess it up, not that I think you will, we'll have plenty of time to correct it." God, how I loved looking into her eyes. "Yeah, but, since you are so special ... I mean since you are such a key part of the team, I want to do everything for you exactly the way you want it. I mean ... I guess I feel that way about my job in general. You guys are the real power here, I'm just here to help you ... express yourself ... yourselves." Cool it, Ron. Rule #2. Besides, even if I wanted to take this further, this cubicle isn't exactly the most private place. Which led the devil in me to make a most improper suggestion. "Look, I know you want to get off to a good start here, and it can be embarrassing to have some goof show up in a formal review, so if you'd like, you can bring your updated text by my office so I can look at it first." I almost added "privately" but thought better of that. "Oh, would you? That would be wonderful." I could swear that was adoration I was seeing in her eyes. "But first," she suddenly switched to a businesslike faint smile, "you need to show me where the problem is." That I was happy to do, and the rest of our brief meeting was totally above board. The next day, shortly after lunch, I heard a tap on my open door and turned away from my computer screen. It was Jan. I smiled broadly and invited her in. I'd been waiting all day for this, hoping she would show up. One of the perks of being a team leader is that I have a real office with a real door that can be closed for complete privacy. But this time I decided it would be best to leave it open. Our conversation would still be private so long as we kept our voices reasonably low, and the chance that someone might stop by would keep me from trying anything inappropriate. I don't have a desk in my office; just a work counter along two walls. Jan came over beside where I was sitting so she could give me the sheet of paper in her hand. "Here," I offered, pulling a second chair out from the counter, "sit down so we can look at this together." She seemed to hesitate, but finally did as I asked. I read her change through and pointed out one word which was grammatically correct, but not in line with the specialized terminology in our industry. Then I looked up and found her anxiously looking at me for approval. "It's very good, Jan, very good indeed," I said, smiling as I looked into her eyes. "Jan," I added after a moment, "I think we need to talk about something." She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Yes, Ron, I know. But Ron, whatever you're thinking, and whatever I'm thinking, we have to remember," and here she raised her left hand and rested the fingertips against her cheek, "I'm a married woman, and I want to keep it that way." "I know, Jan. I'm not married, but I make it a rule to never, ever, interfere with the life of a woman who is. But I do have to say ... if you weren't married, I would have been hounding you for a date the entire week you have been here." "No, Ron, not exactly. Because if I weren't married, I would have long since said yes, and we would have already been on a date ... if not more than one." "But that," she said, getting up suddenly, "is the subjunctive and, as my English prof would say, we don't live in the subjunctive. I think I'd better go, now." "Jan," I stopped her halfway out the door, "we both know what we cannot, and must not, do. But I desperately want to have a chance to talk to you. Could we meet in the cafeteria for lunch sometime soon?" To try to coax her I added, "That's completely public and completely safe." "I, I, I'd like that," she stammered. "I can't do it tomorrow, but maybe on Thursday?" "OK, I'll send you an IM a little after twelve, and then," I grinned, "we can sort of accidentally end up there at the same time." "It's a deal." She winked at me and was gone. Over the next two weeks we had lunch together, not every day, because that would have been too obvious, but about half a dozen times. Thank god for IM. It let us vary the time we met from day to day, further masking what we were doing. We both knew, and talked openly with each other about knowing, that what we were doing needed masking. It was almost like a virtual affair. As if we were making love to each other with our half-whispered words, covered by the background noise of the cafeteria. We talked about everything: life, and love, and our dreams, and what we had accomplished so far. I came to know her parents, and her sister, and her husband who she loved very much. I opened up about my troubled childhood, and my loneliness, which I had locked deep inside myself, living a seemingly carefree life. We were the best of friends, but friends who desperately wanted to be lovers, and knew it would never happen. One night I worked late, as I often do, and it was dark as I made my way out to the parking lot. The lot was not very well lit, but by that time of the evening the mass of cars had thinned out, so I never had any problem finding mine. Suddenly I saw a too-familiar figure in front of me, and my stomach did a flip flop. "Jan, is that you?" She whirled around. "Oh, thank god, Ron, I was so scared! I heard footsteps behind me, but I was afraid to look. I have never left this late, and I don't think I ever will again." "You're right, you shouldn't. Let me walk you to your car." "Yes-s-s, P-p-please." She was shivering with fright, so I did the only thing I could do. I took her hand to comfort her. She gripped my hand convulsively. "Where's your car?" "It's over there somewhere," waving with her other hand, "it's a red Datsun." "It probably won't look red in this light, but we'll find it." We did, of course, and she sagged against it in relief. Then, to my great surprise, she released my hand and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Oh, Ron, thank you, thank you," she exclaimed in my ear, with her cheek pressed against mine. I couldn't resist, and reached around her waist, pulling her shivering body to mine. "Oh, yes, oh, yes," she breathed, clinging to me. This was the way we were meant to be, our bodies melting together. I knew it, she knew it, we both knew we never wanted it to end. Reluctantly I finally pulled my cheek away from hers, and we stared into each other's eyes. There was no way we could have stopped what happened next. Our mouths came ever so slowly closer together until ZAP! They met and the fireworks began. Some indeterminate time later she finally had the strength to pull away. "Oh, Ron, oh my darling Ron, I'm married, Ron, I'm married! We can't go on like this." "I know, Jan, I know. You'd better get in the car, now, and we'll have to pretend this never happened." "Yes, Ron, but first, just one last kiss, our last one forever." Man, was that ever passionate. Our tongues were thrusting deep into each other's mouths and our pelvises were thrusting together. I realized I was about to come in my pants, and I knew I had to stop this, so I pulled away. "Good-bye, my love. Now get in the car and drive home to Bill, and make mad passionate love to him tonight. Promise?" She was fumbling with the key now. "Yes, I promise. But, Ron ... one thing I won't promise, is to pretend this never happened. I'm going to remember this night as long as I live." "Yeah, me too, Jan, me too." I decided it would be best if I didn't send her a lunch IM the next day, or the day after that. On the third day I was debating with myself on the way to work. I wanted to see her so much! Did I dare? I had only just gotten my system up and connected when she took the lead: Jan - Dinner tonight, 6PM our house. Be there! me - R U sure this is a good idea? Jan - Bill wants to meet you. Promise you'll come? me - You really want to do this? Jan - YES!! me - OK where is it? Jan - 3781 Elm. BE THERE!! me - OK, OK, I'll be there. Jan - I can't wait!! ~~~~~~~~~~ 'This has got to be the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life,' I thought as I turned onto Elm street. 'It's going to be a disaster,' I told myself as I caught an address on the 3400 block. I very nearly turned around at the next corner, but Jan had been so sure she wanted me to come, and I had promised her. She would be furious with me if I backed out now. Ah, there was the house. I parked at the curb and made my way to the door with a huge weight in my stomach. 'You can do this, Ron,' I nearly said aloud as I reached for the doorbell. 'Do it for Jan,' were my thoughts as I waited for someone to open the door. 'Please let it be Jan,' as the door started to open. A man stood there smiling. "Come in, Ron, I'm Bill." "Oh, hi, Bill. I really don't feel like I should be here, but Jan insisted. Is she ...?" I was peering around his head at the empty room behind him. "Nonsense, you're very welcome here. I told her to invite you." 'Right, sure,' I thought. 'You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what I was doing with your wife just three nights ago. Maybe I should tell you right now and watch that silly smile disappear from your face.' By now he'd grabbed my right hand with his and shaken it, then pulled me into the room. As he closed the door behind me he nodded toward the sofa. "Sit down over there while I get you a drink. What would you like?" I'd already anticipated that question on the way over, and had decided I didn't need anything that might cloud my better judgment. "Nothing, thanks, I'm not much of a drinker." His grin got wider. "Me either. But wait, I forgot to answer your question. Jan's in the kitchen, just finishing up dinner. She said she'd call us when it was ready." We stared awkwardly at each other for a moment. I finally decided I should say something. "I'm trying to remember, Bill, if Jan told me what you do. Something about houses, maybe?" I knew perfectly well that he was a architect, and designed homes for some very rich people. But I didn't want him to know how much time his wife and I had spent together. "Well, yes, it is about homes. I'm an architect, and I specialize in designing custom homes." That gave us something to talk about. I commented that their home seemed to have some special touches, and he shrugged, saying it was just a tract home, but he had tried to do a few things to it. That led to him showing me some of the things he had done, and the time went much more quickly than I had expected. Suddenly I heard Jan's voice behind me, "Ron! I'm so glad you're here." I turned around and her eyes fired a passionate hello as she took my hand in both of hers. "Has Bill been bragging about his changes around here? Actually," she amended, turning to him and giving him a quick kiss, "I'm very proud of the changes he's made. Don't you agree he's very talented?" I nodded, and she went on, "but now, guys, it's time to eat. Come join me in the dining room." Wow, she had gone all out. Linen tablecloth, silver serving dishes, cloth napkins, beautiful goblets. It was a round table, and I had expected that she and Bill would sit opposite each other in traditional host and hostess positions. But Jan had pulled a little switch on that, putting Bill and I opposite each other, and herself between us, on the side nearest the kitchen. The food was nothing special, and the dinner conversation wasn't exactly scintillating, but we did manage to get through the meal without any long embarrassing silences. After we had finished the sherbet that Jan brought out for desert, Bill suggested we could all work together to help Jan clean things up, but Jan panicked. "No way! I don't want Ron to see what the kitchen looks like right now. You guys go back in the living room, and I'll just take a minute to clear the table. Then I'll join you, and I have something serious to talk about." Oh, oh. Here it comes. Is she really going to tell Bill what's been going on between us? This could get very nasty. By now Bill and I were back in the living room, and it suddenly hit me that the only furniture to sit on was that sofa where he and I had been talking earlier. It was a big sofa, but I knew he wouldn't sit down next to me, and that meant when Jan came in she would have to sit between us. Indeed I sat at the left end of the sofa and he sat at the right end. Then we just sat there, saying nothing, each thinking our own thoughts. Fortunately Jan didn't take long to clear the table, and she soon bounced into the room. Yes, bounced was the term for it. She was positively giddy. We'd each had one glass of wine during dinner, but that wouldn't have been enough to do that to her, unless she had snuck some more behind our backs. Anyway, she sat down between us, turned and grinned at Bill, then turned and grinned at me. "Now, about that serious conversation. Actually," she giggled, "I don't feel serious at all. I feel high as a kite." "I think maybe you are high as a kite," Bill observed. "You haven't by any chance been drinking more of that wine in the kitchen, have you?" She shook her head. "No, I'm not drunk. I haven't had anything except the one glass of wine during dinner. I'm just very happy, being here with the two men I care most about." Ouch! I couldn't see Bill's face, but that had to hit him hard. "Ron," she said, turning toward me, "Bill and I had a long conversation last night, and I told him about the parking lot Monday night." "Don't look so scared," she went on, seeing my face, "he took it very well. Didn't you, hon?" "I'll admit," Bill put in, leaning forward so he could look at me, "that I was shocked at first, but after a bit I realized this had to be really hard for Jan to tell me. And then it hit me that she was doing it because she didn't want to hide anything from me." "I told him I thought he should know that I was very attracted to you, but that I loved him very much, and I didn't want to lose him, and I would do anything to keep him. I also said I could, and would, control the feelings I have about you." I nodded my agreement. "That's right Bill, I don't know how many times she has said 'I'm married' to me. And while I'm at it, Bill, I have to tell you that I'm very much attracted to Jan, but I've been trying to resist those feelings. I don't believe in messing around with married women, and I certainly don't want to wreck your marriage. What we did Monday night was wrong, and I promise you it will never happen again." "Not," I added when I realized what I'd said, "that we made love, or anything like that. I know Jan would never cheat on you that way. But we did go further than we should have." "I know, Ron, Jan told me everything. So I know you were kissing very passionately at the side of the car, but you didn't get in with her. I also know that you were the one who called a halt to the last kiss, and helped her into the car, and then," at this point I saw a smile flicker over his serious face, "you said she should come home and make love to me." Now his eyes were on her. "And we did. Oh, god did we ever! We made mad, passionate, love for hours that night. And Tuesday night. And last night we made love as soon as we got home, and then talked after dinner, and then made love again before we talked some more." Jan broke in, "And you're not going to believe what Bill told me last night. He told me -- didn't you Bill -- that it would be OK if you and I kissed again, so long as he was right there to be sure it didn't go too far. So I want to do it, right now." and she leaned toward me. "Oh, god, Jan, you know I'd love to kiss you, but I don't think Bill really meant it. And I do mean what I said; I don't want to do anything more to hurt your marriage." "What do you mean 'anything more'?" came Bill's voice from behind Jan's head, as her face filled my view. "Man, I just told you. The last three days our sex has been hotter than anything since our honeymoon. If you kissing Jan can do that, I'd say you're the best thing that's ever happened to our marriage. So go ahead and kiss her!" "See?" Jan said in triumph. "Now you know why I was so insistent this morning," she whispered just before her lips met mine. I still felt this wasn't right, and I couldn't totally get into it, but it sure felt wonderful to have Jan's body melting against mine again. For her part, Jan wasn't holding back. She had rolled toward me and was pressing her thigh against mine, while her breast was rubbing against my rib cage. Her mouth was open and her tongue was probing against my lips. I finally granted it entry and she began stroking in and out of my mouth. The lady was on fire. "Do I get a turn now?" Bill finally asked. "Oh, yes darling!" she grunted as she rolled away from me and toward him. Her kisses seemed just as passionate in that direction as they had been a moment earlier with me. He slipped a hand down to rub her ass, to which she responded by bringing her knee up onto his lap and thrusting her crotch against his thigh. She was wearing a skirt, which was now pulled up exposing most of her thigh. I was staring, mesmerized, my cock throbbing. Finally she pulled away from his mouth and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, and she rolled back to me. I knew better than to put my hand on her ass, but that didn't keep her from pulling her knee up onto my lap and pushing her crotch rhythmically against my thigh. And that wasn't the half of it. Her thigh, thrown across my lap, was grazing my cock through my pants, and as she moved her ass back and forth her thigh was lightly rubbing my inflamed member. Bill no longer existed for me. My mouth was open and my tongue was dueling with hers. I could hear her starting to moan quietly inside my mouth and finally realized there was a hand between her breast and my chest. Bill had rolled over against her back and was working her tit though her blouse. I felt another hand work its way between us, and now he was squeezing and pinching both of them. Jan was out of control, pounding her pussy against my leg and kissing me wildly. "Come to daddy," Bill whispered in her ear, and she obeyed. "Oh, god, Bill, I'm so sorry! You said I could kiss him, but I'm sure you didn't mean the way we were kissing just now ... and touching, too." "You didn't see me stopping you, did you? Don't worry, honey, if you try to go too far I'll tell you. But right now I want you on my lap." This time she straddled him, letting her skirt ride up so far I could see the edge of her panties. She was pounding those panties against his bulge and kissing him wildly as he continued to massage her boobs. Then he unbuttoned her blouse so he could work on her bra. Her moan was crescendoing, and soon become a wail. The lady needs her tits rubbed, I thought, and it was as if Bill was reading my thoughts. He slid his hands around to her back and unhooked her bra, then slipped his hands inside it. Her wail became louder, and then suddenly stopped. "I want to touch Ron again. Just one more, one more time, just a quick one," she panted, and he agreed. She rolled toward me making a guttural growl that was the sexiest sound I have ever heard. She mounted me and started pounding her panties against my giant erection. I wasn't going to be able to take very much of this. But it soon got worse. She wasn't kissing me this time. Instead her head was thrown back in passion as she wailed loudly and continuously. She was hanging on to my shirt as she bounced wildly on my lap. Her blouse was hanging open and her bra cups, with nothing to hold them in place, were bounding up and down. I couldn't resist. I just had to. My hands came up and slipped inside those bouncing cups. I had barely touched her nipples when she screamed, and came. She fell against me and lay there shuddering and panting. It was only then I realized that Bill had once again rolled up against us, and had his hand on her ass. In fact, her skirt was bunched up at her waist, and I could see a bit of her ass cheeks. He must have had his hand there long enough to slip her panties down. Wait ... his hand wasn't really on her ass at all, but under her ass, on her pussy. So that was what had made her come. "My turn," he whispered intensely. "Take off your panties and come over here." She rolled to a sitting position, reached down and pulled off her shoes, then slipped her panties down her legs, letting them fall to the floor. That done, she rolled onto his lap, pulling her skirt up to her waist as she did so. Then she raised up as far as she could on her knees, reached down between their bodies, and slowly lowered herself accompanied by groans from both of them. I hadn't seen him do it, but he must have taken his cock out while she took her panties off, and he must now have it buried inside her. I couldn't believe it. I was about to see them fuck, and strangest of all, I was really looking forward to it. They weren't moving at all, just staring into each other's eyes. She was still breathing somewhat heavily from her climax, but finally leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss, not passionate, and not long. As she straightened up he smiled, and reached for her shoulders. He slid her blouse off her shoulders and down her arms. She slipped her hands out, and he tossed her blouse on the floor. Then his hands went back to her shoulders, and slid the bra straps off. The bra fell to her lap, and soon joined the pile on the floor. Talk about an incredible opportunity! She was almost completely naked, and she and Bill were so involved with each other at this moment that I could feast my eyes on all of her body with no fear of giving offense. Amazingly, I hadn't come when she did. It was probably some rational corner of my mind that knew Bill was right there, and that it would have been very embarrassing. Reveling in her body at this moment I was suspended at an extremely pleasurable point of almost being there, but not quite. I felt like I could hold this level of passion indefinitely, and I willed myself not to break it by coming in my pants. So, in a state of near suspended animation, I watched as they began moving, at first slowly, then faster and faster. Suddenly he twisted her around and threw her down on her back on the sofa, rolling on top of her. Her head had fallen against my thigh, and I froze, not wanting to make any move that would interrupt their concentration on each other. He was pounding furiously into her now, and she was responding by clawing at his back and pounding her heels against his butt. Suddenly it was over, and they were both lying there shuddering and panting. I still hadn't come, but a feeling of total joy washed over me. He'd done it! He'd made Jan come again! Right then her pleasure was all that really mattered to me. This was totally weird, and I knew it, but I didn't care. After their breathing finally slowed, and they had kissed repeatedly with murmured "I love you's", Bill finally raised his head and saw my leg. "Jan, darling, do you know what you're resting your head against?" "It feels like the end of the sofa." "Huh uh, it's Ron's leg!" She opened her eyes and twisted her head so she could look up at me. "Oh, my god, Ron! I forgot all about you! I'm so sorry, we shouldn't have made you watch this. This was terrible!" I shook my head, "Not terrible at all; it was awesome. Actually, watching you two was one of the most beautiful, one of the most intimate, moments of my life. I can't believe you actually let me stay here and watch you. But now that it's over, I imagine you're going to feel like I was intruding. I'm really, really, sorry. I shouldn't have watched." "You had every right to be here," Bill assured me, "without you it wouldn't have happened. So, no, I don't feel like you were intruding. How about you, Jan?" She shook her head, "No, Ron, you just made it more special." "But, Ron," Bill suddenly put in, "what about you? You must be feeling very sexually frustrated about now, unless ..." "No, actually, I haven't," I admitted. "I guess it seemed like it would be too embarrassing to come in my pants, and even more embarrassing to have pulled it out and jacked myself off." Bill seemed to think about that for a bit, and then said, rather hesitantly, "Jan, baby, I'm going to pull out now, and I want you to do something if you feel up to it." "Right now I'd do anything for you, my love." He got to his knees, and then swung his leg off the sofa, standing up. That gave me my first look at Jan's pussy. She was still lying there with her legs spread, either not knowing, or not caring, what she was showing me. My erection quickly became more demanding. Her bush was soft brown hairs, so sparse it hardly hid anything. I could see her swollen lips, and a bit of her clit peeking between them. Her vagina was still hidden from my view because of the angle I was looking from. Bill had retrieved her panties and brought them to her. Realizing how exposed she was, he immediately looked at my face. Caught, I flushed and averted my eyes, but he only chuckled and winked at me. "OK, babe, I want you to roll over on your tummy now. I'm putting these panties under you to catch anything that leaks." "Maybe I should go to the bath..." she started to say as she rolled, but then suddenly stopped with an "Oh!" as she caught sight of the jerking bulge in my pants. "I think you should do something about that," Bill said calmly when he saw where she was looking. "No, Bill, I couldn't. I, I'm married, remember?" "But you would like to, wouldn't you?" "Y-y-yes. very-very ... yes, if I weren't married." "When you and I made love just now, was it as great for you as it was for me?" "Better!" she whispered. "And why was that?" "I, I don't know," but she was still staring at my crotch, belying her words. "Yes, you do too know. Now scoot up a little bit." He grabbed her hips and helped her move forward. "Oh, Ron, I want to do it so much, but I mustn't. Please don't make me do this, Ron." "Of course not, Jan. I wouldn't make you do anything." Her cheek was on my lap now, and I was stroking her bare back. "It would feel wonderful, of course, but I never thought there was any chance you would ever do it, so I'm not expecting it to happen now." "I'm not going to make you do it either, Jan," Bill reassured her, "but I know you really, really want to, and he really, really wants it, and its not like actually having sex. I mean, you know, after all, there's no way he could make you pregnant." "But it's wrong ... it isn't what I promised when I married you, Bill. Oh Bill, oh Bill, yes, I do want to, but I can't hurt you this way. You'd feel like I was breaking my vows if I did this, I know you would, wouldn't you?" "No baby, I wouldn't. Now unzip his pants and do it." Her hand was shaking so much she could hardly get my zipper down. And I was shivering with a level of passion I had never, ever, felt before. It took all my willpower to keep from coming prematurely. Finally she had it out, kissed the tip, and slid it into her mouth. BAM!! Two hours of stimulation were distilled into one moment of climax. I was pumping and pumping like I would never stop. The more I pumped the more she sucked. And the more she sucked the more I pumped. It seemed like it was never going to end. But of course it did finally end, and I pushed her head gently away. She kissed the tip one last time, then turned her head and smiled up at me, a smile with total tenderness in her eyes. No words were exchanged. I was still recovering, and she was still swallowing cum, and besides, anything we might have said at that moment would itself have been a violation of her wedding vows. Instead she rolled back over and looked up at her husband with a haunted, frightened, face. "Oh, Bill, I shouldn't have done that. You've got to be seething, angry, right now. I can't imagine how awful it must have made you feel. This has to stop right now. I'm so scared." "It's OK, honey, I'm fine. Remember, I asked you to do it. Now why don't you go clean up in the bathroom, and then we can talk when you come out." She nodded numbly and started out of the room, wearing only her skirt. I started to suggest she take her other clothes, but thought better of it. "Jan's right, you know," I told Bill quietly after she had left the room. "We did let things get very much out of hand, and we need to stop." "Look, Ron, I just had some truly incredible sex tonight. I got the impression that you did to." I had to nod in agreement with that. "And if you think about it, what we had was maybe half of what Jan had. She said we had to stop, but you know that as long as she lives she is going to remember this night." I nodded again. "And more than that, if it never happens again she is going to feel the ache of having lost it. She is going to feel that again and again. Oh, I know Jan. She'll suppress the ache and devote herself to me. But it will always, always, be an unfulfilled longing deep within her." He took a deep breath and seemed to shift gears. "I want her to be happy. I'm sure, Ron, that you do too. You tell me, what can we do right now to make her the most happy? Stop this, or let it continue?" "Bill," I said slowly, "you're not thinking clearly. Yes, letting this continue would make her deliriously happy right now. Hell, it would make me deliriously happy right now. But I'll bet it wouldn't be long before problems arose. Like jealousy, for example. There's no way you could avoid feeling jealous about sharing her with me, and I could become jealous of you for having so much more time with her than I do. Or how about fixation. I could easily become fixated on her, and feel I can't live without her. And, Bill, you also need to face the possibility that she might become fixated on me. No, the long term prospects don't look at all good." "OK, I admit there are dangers. So," he argued, "we just have sit down together, all of us, and agree that those things might happen, and then all three swear that everything ends immediately if any one of us thinks it should." "But, Bill," I smiled, "I think you just heard two of us say that it should end right now." "That," he stated flatly, "doesn't count. It was an immediate emotional reaction made before we had thought the situation through, and before we had an agreement." Jan rejoined us not long after that. To my great surprise she was still wearing the same skirt, and was still naked to the waist. I suspected strongly that she would still be naked under that skirt, and that was enough to make my cock start to grow again. Bill explained his proposal, and she resisted for quite a while, but finally gave in. Then he turned to me. "OK, Ron, it's up to you. Now that we fully understand the short term happiness and long term risks, are you willing to join Jan and me in swearing that we can let this continue, but break it off completely and immediately if anyone becomes uncomfortable?" "I still think we need something more," I hedged. "Some kind of agreed-upon limits. Jan and I both felt we had gone past the limits a while ago, but it's hard to know if we don't know what they are." Bill nodded. "Well, for one thing, how about if we say you two can't go all the way together. I mean, I don't want you cumming inside her." "God, yes," I blurted out, "I don't think I should be inside her at all!" I turned to Jan for agreement, but she seemed to be lost in a world of her own, smiling a secret smile. "What about it, Jan, do you agree?" "Huh? Oh, yes, I agree with Bill." Now there's a shocker. Is she really saying that she wants me to fuck her, so long as I pull out at the last second? No, Ron, don't get your hopes up. It's probably just that she was thinking of something else and didn't even hear what I said. So she agreed with the only thing she had heard. But, then, what do you suppose she was daydreaming about, and why didn't she add some further limits of her own if she didn't like the ones she had heard? Anyway, what the hell. Who am I to object? "OK, I agree. Do we all swear?" We put all six of our hands together on Jan's lap, and nodded solemnly. "In that case," Jan grinned diabolically, "I think you guys are both overdressed. In fact I think I'm overdressed." She stood up, unfastened her skirt, and let it fall to the floor. Yup, nothing underneath. "So, what does this make you feel like?" she asked seductively, clasping her hands behind her head and swiveling her hips as she made a complete 360 degree turn. Bill grinned at me. "I feel like shucking my clothes. How about you?" Actually I had mixed feelings, because I wasn't sure I wanted him to know just how turned on I was at that moment, and that was going to become pretty obvious without any clothing on. But Jan had now sat down on the floor, and was beckoning us to join her. Guess who won that debate. When we had joined her, she stretched out on her back, spreading her arms wide. "I want a man on each side of me," she said intensely. I rolled up against her, putting my mouth on her cheek, my hand on her rib cage, my thigh on top of hers, and you can judge for yourself where my peter was. She turned her face toward mine and we began kissing. As the kiss became more intense I moved my hand up to her breast and started tracing little circles around her nipple. She moaned her appreciation, and soon started pumping her pelvis up and down. Then suddenly she twisted her head away from me and started kissing Bill. I lifted my head enough to be able to look down her body and spotted Bill's hand once again buried in her pussy. But then I heard her whisper "my nipple" to him, and his hand obediently came up. Her pelvic thrusts stopped at that point, but were soon replaced by a side-to-side motion that was sending jolts of electricity through my cock. Her arm was wrapped around my neck, and her hand was clutching at my shoulder. She started moving it up and down my arm, finally pushing against my lower arm at my elbow. You don't suppose ... I let my hand slip off her breast and start moving down toward her belly. The pelvic thrusts started up immediately. Well, I'll be damned. I kept moving my hand down, past her belly button, and finally to that soft hair I'd seen earlier. At that point she began moaning into Bill's mouth and thrusting faster. I slid my hand down farther, and slipped a finger between her lips, touching her clit lightly. She jerked her head back to the straight up position and started chanting "Yes! Yes! YES!" over and over. Her entire body was moving up and down now as she forced her clit against my finger. ""MORE!! MORE!!"" she was screaming, and I began stroking that little nub from its base up to its tip. "AAAHHHHHHH!" she screeched as she came. "Aaaahhhhhh, ahhhhhh, ahhh." "Oh, god, yes," she moaned when she could speak again. She grabbed my head with her hand and forced my mouth against hers. That kiss itself was almost enough to make me come. It went on, and on, until Bill protested, "Hey, don't I get a turn?" Jan pulled her mouth away from mine so she could respond. "Oh, you'll get a turn all right, and maybe two or three," she promised him, "but first, I owe Ron one, and I think we'll do it this way." She pushed my head down to her breast, where I started kissing and sucking delightedly. Before long she pushed my head down to her belly, which I slathered with kisses. "Keep going," she hissed, "and swing your legs around." I didn't have to be asked twice. I swung around with my knees straddling her head. Her knees were pulled up on each side of her body, and her pussy was sticking up in the air, wide open and ready for action. I licked my way up and down her crack, then went back to her fuck hole and shoved my tongue inside. She started coming immediately. Then I worked a hand around the outside of her thigh and in to where my tongue was keeping her jerking. I pulled my tongue out, and she moaned her displeasure, but I immediately shoved two fingers in to replace it. Meanwhile she had sucked my cock into her mouth and I was pumping it in and out. It had probably been less than an hour since the last time she sucked me off, so I knew I'd be able to hold out longer this time. What I wasn't sure of was how much more I could do for her, and how long she could keep going the way she was. But I was determined to do the best I could. I was pumping my fingers in and out of her cunt and could feel its muscles clenching down on them on every stroke. I let my tongue work its way back up to her clit, and when it got there the real fireworks began. She was jerking, flapping her legs against me, and humping up to meet every thrust of my fingers. I had one more trick in my bag. I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked. She tensed, opened her mouth, and screamed. That did it for me, and I started squirting jets of cum down her throat. That stopped her scream, and she started sucking again, but her arms and legs still held me in a death grip. In fact she could have been dead except for her sucking mouth and convulsing cunt. She wasn't humping, wasn't jerking, wasn't making a sound; just hanging on for dear life with no action anywhere except around my cock and inside her cunt. I soon ran out of cum to pump, but her contractions seemed like they might never stop. At long last they quieted down and her body relaxed. Her arms fell away from my ass, and her feet dropped to the floor with her knees sagging outward. I decided it was time to climb off. Bill was looking at her with concern in his face. "Are you all right, babe?" She slowly opened her eyes, but seemed to be having trouble focusing on him. "All right? ... I don't know." Her voice was totally spacey. "What does all right mean? ... I've been ... somewhere ... somewhere else ... and I don't know if I can come back." "Jan, it's me, Jan, it's Bill. Can you come back for me, Jan?" "Oh, Bill, oh darling, did you see what happened? I don't understand it, I don't know what happened. It's never been like that. Oh god, Bill, please hold me, I need to feel you holding me." She was crying now, and shivering. Bill held her and cuddled her and stroked her back. I didn't belong there. I eased away from them and found my clothes. As I was dressing I caught Bill's eye and jerked my thumb toward the door. He nodded, and turned his attention beck to Jan. I eased my way out the door as quietly as possible. I didn't know what to expect after that. Probably nothing. We had all sworn to break off if there was any problem, and somehow it seemed there had been a problem, though I didn't understand what it was. I kept watching my buddy list the next morning, but she hadn't signed in. I had this horrible fear that she might have quit her job to avoid me. She just had to show up! Not that I knew what I would do when she did. Probably nothing. Finally a message popped up. It was her! Jan - 2+1+BIG1+2 last night. 2 more this morning. me - WOW! I had told Jan there was rumor going around that IM inside the company might be recorded, and we always tried to avoid being explicit. Jan - Just got in, we couldn't stop. me - Is everything OK? Jan - U BET! Can you come tonight? Somehow the choice of word struck me as more than accidental. I couldn't resist. me - R U kidding? I'm about to come right now ... me - just thinking about it. She took a long time to respond, but I understood why when it came. Jan - ;-) :-x8-== :-)x-== :-o8>x :-}8>o -0== :~o8>o-0== :~O8>0== Now THAT'S what I call an emoticon!

The Handyman Gambit (MF, swap, fat) --------------------------------------------------------------------- Two somewhat mismatched couples find new passion when they trade partners. I hope you aren't turned off by the "fat" keyword. It's true that obesity has quite a bit to do with the story, but not in the sense one most often finds in these stories, where a guy has a fetish for fat women. --------------------------------------------------------------------- June was giggling on the phone in the next room. 'She must be talking to Betty,' I thought. Betty is my wife's best friend. They make a rather odd pair, actually; in many ways they are about as unlike each other as you could imagine. My June is quiet, almost mousy, while Betty is outgoing and loud. June is a number of years on the far side of 50 (she won't let me say how many), and Betty is probably about the same number of years in front of that milestone (though that's just a guess on my part). But June has taken very good care of herself, while Betty has let herself go. To put it politely, Betty is more than a bit plump. No, I take that back. I'm going to tell it like it is here. Betty is grossly overweight. She has huge rolls of fat that bounce up and down as she waddles across a room. I swear her waist line must be at least 80 inches. June's waistline has swelled a bit over the years, but at 29 inches it still sets off her large (36-D) breasts very nicely. Betty's breasts, such as they are, are hardly detectable among all the other fatty bulges on her body. Their husbands (that's Tom and me) are also quite a contrast. I've worked at a desk all my life, while Tom has worked outdoors with his hands. That difference in lifestyles is reflected in our bodies. My pale skin is wrapped around a body that weighs more than twice June's 135 pounds, while it's a safe guess that Tom's tanned muscular frame weighs less than half his wife's. I try to tell myself I'm not really fat, and it's true that I'm much trimmer than someone like Betty, but I have to admit my waistline is an unseemly 50 inches. Tom's is probably somewhere around 32 inches. But back to that phone conversation ... I usually don't pay much attention to June's phone calls, but it was nice to hear her laugh, and I was curious as to what might have tickled her so much. I didn't find out, though, because at that point her voice turned more serious. "You mean to say he just sat there? After you explained nicely what you needed?" ... "Bob's the same way. Maybe all men are like that. Or did we just pick the wrong ones?" ... "Well, yes, once in a while Bob does a few things, too, but usually only at his mother's house. He hasn't really done anything around here for years." ... "OK, OK, you're right. I agree, he did a great job on our deck, but that was two years ago. Betty, do you know that he started rebuilding our back fence last fall? That was, what, nine months ago, and he still hasn't finished it!" ... "Yeah, I think you're right, that's the only way it'll ever get finished. What was that ad I saw a while back? 'Rent a husband,' I think it was. Maybe that's what I need." ... "Betty! Shame on you! I didn't mean that way. 'Rent a husband' was just a handyman that would do all the things around the house that your husband should do, but never seems to get around to." ... "That's crazy! I don't know about Tom, but do you think Bob would work any harder at your house than he does here?" ... "Well, yes, you've got a point. They do both seem to get things done at someone else's house. I guess maybe we could try it and see if it works." June giggled again. "I know, we could call it 'Swap a husband.'" Me and my dirty mind. That was enough to push me off into my own fantasies, and I have no idea what they said after that. True, I don't consider Betty a bit attractive, with all that blubber, but hell, I hadn't had any sex for ages, and even Betty would be better than nothing. I guess I should explain. When I say "no sex for ages" I mean literally not for several years. It seems that June finds my weight even more repulsive than I find Betty's. She usually won't even let me touch her, let alone get intimate. And I'm not talking about intimate touches, either. If I try to reach out and touch her arm, she'll cringe and move away. So, you ask, why haven't I gone somewhere else to get some nookie? To tell you the truth, I ask myself that question all the time, and I don't know the answer. Call it an overdose of commitment, or maybe a fear that anybody else I turned to would be as repelled as June is, or maybe I'm just afraid of hurting June. Whatever the reason is, I've been faithful all this time, unless you count the nearly daily fantasies I have as I get myself off. I've fantasized about nearly every woman I know, and now, much to my surprise, I found myself starting to fantasize about Betty. Hell, with her weight it's a good bet that Tom finds her very repulsive. It could very well be that they're not getting any more sex together than June and I are. And while Tom may be going elsewhere, Betty would probably have at least as much trouble as I would in finding an extramarital partner. So in my fantasy she is dying to have sex with someone, anyone. She's so horny that if we were to be alone together at her house she would be climbing all over me and ripping my clothes off! What man could resist a fantasy like that? It took June a couple of days to work up the courage to mention their scheme to me. Naturally, she had no idea that I had overheard their conversation, so I tried to look puzzled and then incredulous. I finally shrugged and said, "Whatever." It's a good thing she couldn't read my mind, or sense the tension in my belly, not to mention other parts of my anatomy. After some calls between the two friends, interspersed with checks back with their husbands, it was finally all arranged. I would drive over to Betty's house at 10 AM a week from Saturday, and at the same time Tom would drive over to our house. We'd stay until 3. The only pay we'd get would be lunch and the knowledge that our own honey-do lists would be shorter when we got home. June was quite adamant on that "only" point. "No fringe benefits," she said, glaring at me. Finally the day arrived, and I drove over to see what Betty had planned for me. No, she didn't rip my clothes off. Instead she started in the kitchen with a cabinet door that was sticking, and another that wouldn't stay closed. Then there was a window that was hard to lock, and several windows that needed washing. You may remember that I hinted earlier that I weigh well over 250 pounds. When I add that I'm only 5' 7" and remind you that I have a very sedentary job, you can appreciate that by this time I was pooped, and my legs and feet were killing me. I kept going as long as I could, but then told Betty I needed a break. She allowed as how it was about lunch time, anyway, and suggested that I lie down on the sofa while she fixed me a sandwich. I told her that at the moment all I wanted was a big glass of water and a chance to put my feet up. She went for the water and I went for the sofa, and when she brought the glass she found me flat on my back with my shoes kicked off and my feet up on the sofa's arm rest. "I hope you don't mind," I said. "No," she giggled. (She giggles a lot; I guess that's why June ends up giggling when they talk on the phone.) "I sometimes get mad at Tom when he does that, but he never takes his shoes off first." "Oh, no, I didn't think. Do my socks stink?" "No, no, I'm glad you took your shoes off. With Tom I'm always wondering what he may have stepped on, and imagining that it's going to end up on the sofa." After a pause she added, "You know, June is always putting you down, but I'm getting the feeling that you're really ... what's the word I'm looking for? ... thoughtful, that's what." I sat up so I could drink the water, and looked her straight in the eyes. "Do you wanna know the truth? I really feel like I have to walk on eggshells all the time around her. It's like I spend half my time trying not to make her mad at me." "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, her hand going to her mouth. "That's exactly the way I feel with Tom." She watched while I drank the whole glass of water, then said a bit tentatively, "Bob ... I know how you must feel when you spend a lot of time on your feet, because ... I know how standing makes me feel. And I also realize you've done a lot of work this morning. Would you ... I mean, I could, you know, like, rub your feet a bit, if you'd like that." "I'd love it," I sighed. I lay back down with my head at the right end of the sofa, then pulled my knees up so she could sit where my legs had been. I dropped my calves onto her ample lap, and she began stroking and squeezing one leg. "Ooh! My muscle's so tight. Push my pants leg up so you can work on it better. Ouch! No, don't stop. It hurts a bit, but it hurts so good. You know what I mean? Yes! Like that." She spent several minutes on each of my calf muscles, then slipped my socks off and started working on my feet. It was fantastic! After five minutes of that I felt like a new man. "Betty, you were on your feet almost as much as I was this morning. Wouldn't you like me to return the favor?" "Would you? Oh, yes, I'd love to have you do it!" I sat up, and Betty kicked her slippers off, pivoted around, and dropped her feet in my lap. She sighed with satisfaction as she lay back and was enveloped by the soft sofa cushions. I started with the ball of her left foot and the tendons leading to her toes; then gradually worked my way back to her arch and her heel. When I started massaging her Achilles tendon she groaned and said, "Oh yeah! I needed that!" I applied some real pressure there, which kept her moaning and asking for more. I finally decided it was time to repeat the process with the other foot, and she was equally appreciative of my efforts there. Next I started squeezing one of her puffy swollen ankles with each hand. That quickly had her writhing and moaning in pleasure/pain. She was wearing a calf-length house dress, but by now her gyrations had worked the hem up to her knees, giving me plenty of room to work without appearing to invade her privacy. So I slipped my hands around her shins and started kneading the bottom end of her calf muscles. "Oh, god, YES!!" she screamed, and kept on with a mixture of whimpers and quiet screams as I tried to work the knots out of her hot, tight, muscles. "Oh, please," she begged, "do what you're doing to the rest of my calf!" So I kept moving my hands farther up. By now she had pulled her knees up and spread them a bit, so I could look right up inside her dress. But I first looked at her face to see if she was watching me. Nope, she had her eyes squeezed tight shut and her mouth open as she panted and squeaked and moaned. So I chanced a quick peek to satisfy my curiosity. Not much to see, actually. Her thighs were so heavily larded that even with her knees apart I couldn't see anywhere close to where her panties presumably were. That should have been a real turnoff, but the combination of her moans and the fantasies I'd been having about her conspired to give me a prominent bulge in my pants that extended from my lap to my belly button. They also conspired to move my hands, without me even willing it, up to the backs of her knees. That popped her eyes open, dropped her knees, and caused her to try to smooth her dress back down where it belonged. "I think that's enough of that," she said. "Though," she added after a pause, "you could give me a little back rub if you really wanted to." "Sure," I said, wriggling out from under her feet, and moving down to a kneeling position on the floor in front of the sofa. "Just roll over." That turned out to be a much harder job than you would suspect, due to the amount of blubber that had to be repositioned and the relatively narrow space available for maneuvering, since at the same time she had to avoid falling off the sofa and squashing me. But at last there she was, with her huge ass pushed high in the air by that monstrous accretion of fat around her belly. I decided to start with her shoulders, and maybe in time work my way up that ski slope toward her ass. As I started stroking and prodding and squeezing the muscles around her neck and above her shoulder blades, her moans (muffled now by her face poked deep into the sofa cushion) told me she was enjoying this as much as she had the action at the other end. I tried hard not to overplay my hand this time. I worked my way very slowly down (or should I say up?) her back, massaging every inch thoroughly. But every inch I successfully navigated seemed to raise my sexual tension a bit higher and make my hard-on a bit harder. About the time I got to the small of her back, or at least where the "small" should have been, she picked up her head and turned her face toward me. I glanced away from my work area and saw her eyes widen. It suddenly hit me -- she was staring directly at my crotch. I think I turned as red as a beet, but I'm not sure, because she wasn't looking at my face, and I sure as hell wasn't looking at my face either. I froze. My hands stopped moving; my eyes were locked on her face. She froze too, with her mouth slightly open and her eyes like saucers, apparently unable to turn her gaze away from that terribly prominent bulge in my pants. Neither of us said a word for a very long time. Finally, in a strangled voice, she croaked, "There's a sash tied at the back of my dress. Untie it." She was wearing one of those wraparound dresses. Very practical, I suppose, for someone whose huge waistline probably varied quite significantly over time. I forced my hands to the bow, and pulled. Nothing much happened immediately, but then she heaved her back up, and the overlapping material across her back started to fall away. "Now," she said with a bit of a quaver in her voice, "you can give me a real back rub. Let me feel your fingers instead of all that cloth scraping against me." The dress had pulled away enough to expose a deep vee of skin, pointing away from her neck. I started there, and gradually worked my way towards her now partly exposed bra strap. As I progressed I pushed the material of her dress away in front of me, gradually widening and deepening the vee. Just as my fingers were approaching the bra strap, and I was starting to think about jumping over it to continue my journey of exploration, she said, "Stop, Bob." My heart sank. I figured this was the end of the line. But then she said, "In the bathroom, above the toilet, there's some lotion on the counter. Get it and bring it here." I jumped to comply, my heart fluttering. When I got back she was still lying in the same position, but there was one obvious change. Her dress was now pulled apart so far that I could almost see where the top of her panties should be, but that wasn't the obvious part. What I noticed immediately was what I didn't see -- her entire back was bared, with no sign of the bra strap. "Get some of that lotion on your hands and start rubbing it into me," she ordered. My thought exactly. I started where I had left off, rubbing lotion into the skin where her bra strap had been. At first I kept both hands moving in little circles close to her backbone, but I gradually made the circles larger and moved them out, until my hands slipped under the dress material and around the curve of her rib cage. Still her eyes kept staring at my pants. I was so horny by now that my cock was jerking in its cloth prison, and still she watched. I slid my hands around farther, searching for her breasts, but she said, "No, don't." So I brought them back up, applied some more lotion, and began working my way farther down her spine. I kept pushing her dress out of the way as I went, until I reached the point where the two sashes that wrapped around her were sewn to the main part of the dress. Did I dare? I tugged gently on one sash, and it slipped out from under her. I tossed it aside, and began tugging on the other. It too was soon freed and discarded. At that point her dress fell away to both sides, and she was naked except for a huge pair of white panties. As I was debating my next step, she croaked, "Put some lotion on my legs. I began working at her knees, slathering the backs of them, and then the lower part of the backs of her thighs, with lotion. "Oh, YES!" she moaned, and pulled her knees apart a ways. I moved my hands to the upper part of her thighs, and started spreading the lotion there. "YES! YES!" she grunted, and the knees spread several inches farther apart. I slid my lotion-slimed hands down the outsides of her thighs. She responded by spreading her knees as far apart as possible and pulling them up under her. Then she demanded, "I want lotion ALL over my legs." I got the point, and started working my way up her left thigh, with my left hand covering the outside and part of the front, while my right hand explored her inner thigh. "AH! AH! OH! OH! AH! AH!" Her ass was bucking in time with her exclamations. Meanwhile my hands kept moving higher and higher up her thigh. My right hand was encountering some resistance now, from the flab of her right thigh pressed against that of her left, despite her spread knees. But still I kept squirming my hand higher and higher, and the bucking and noise became more and more violent. Finally my thumbs reached the edge of her panties, and the side of my finger touched her steaming crotch. I nearly jerked it away. The sensation was like dipping it into very hot water. I had never known any woman to be so hot or so wet. But my reaction was nothing compared with hers. She let out a primal scream that I'm sure all the neighbors heard, and started jerking all over. I could actually feel her pussy lips pulsing through the fabric of her panties. I stopped moving my hands and just held my finger against her pussy while she screamed and jerked. She finally calmed down, and I started planning my next step, which was going to be to worm my finger inside her panties. But before I had a chance to put my plan into action, she suddenly pushed herself up into a sitting position, sitting on her haunches with her back to me. That forced my finger up to her ass, which I promptly started stroking with my whole hand. "Oh my god, what have I done?" Her hand reached behind her to try to pull her dress into a more modest position and push my hand away from her panties. "Oh, Bob, I'm so ashamed of myself." So that was that. There obviously wasn't going to be any more fun today. I pushed myself away and got to my feet. "Excuse me a minute," I said, starting to walk away. "I need to go to the bathroom." I closed the door, unzipped myself, and started pumping as I headed for the toilet. I barely got the lid up before I was squirting like crazy. 'Oh, shit,' I thought, 'I got it all over the toilet seat.' I cleaned up the mess as best I could with toilet paper and hoped she wouldn't notice. Then I waited while my pecker slowly went down so I could pee. I knew if I didn't I'd be leaking so badly that I'd soon have a large and very obvious wet spot in the front of my pants. She was in the kitchen by the time I came out. Her dress was properly fastened again, and she was making me a sandwich. "Do you like ham, and what kind of cheese would you like with it, if any?" I came over close to see what she was doing. The smell from her sex was quite noticeable, but I tried to concentrate on the sandwich. 'White bread,' I thought, 'I never eat that, but I won't complain.' "Yeah, ham is great. What kind of cheese do you have?" "Velveta," (yuck!) "or Monterey Jack." "I'll take Jack." I wasn't sure how long we'd spent on the sofa, but my stomach was definitely telling me it was time to eat. By the time she put the sandwich, piled high with ham and cheese and produce, in front of me I no longer cared about the white bread. She had an even thicker one for herself, that included at least half a dozen slices of Velveta. She also had a huge portion of potato salad for each of us. She obviously had a giant appetite, and realized that I probably did too. She offered me a beer, but we ended up with two tall glasses of milk. As she turned to take the dishes to the sink, I finally snuck a look at my watch. It was nearly two o'clock. "So what else do you have on your list for me to do today?" "There's a picnic table in the back yard, and its legs are loose. Would you mind?" "No problem," I assured her. Rather than just nailing it, I drilled holes and cinched it up with screws. That took longer, but I had the job done and the tools put away a bit before three. "Betty, can we talk for a minute before I leave?" She flushed, but said, "Yes, I guess we should." "I'm going to ask you a question." I had this all planned out. I'd been putting the words together while I worked on the picnic table. "This is a very personal question, but I don't want you to answer it right now. The question is, how long has it been since the last time you and Tom made love? Don't answer that, but I'll tell you how long it's been for June and me. It's been eight long years. "I'm telling you this, and asking, because I know both of us are having some strange feelings about what happened a while ago. But if it's also been a long time for you, as I suspect it may have been, then we really shouldn't blame ourselves so much. I mean, the desires have just been building and building inside of us, whether we realized it or not. "And another thing. From the way you reacted today, I'm going to guess that if it has been a long time for you, then you aren't the one that called a halt to sex with Tom. And I know that I'm not the one that called a halt to sex with June. So if I'm right, and if you think about it, what we were doing wasn't really cheating at all. Because we weren't cheating them out of anything they wanted. "So don't say anything right now. Just think about what I've said. And I hope we'll see each other again sometime." With that I walked out of the door, climbed into my car, and drove home. ~~~~~~~~~~ I started wondering, on the way home, if Tom and June might have had an interlude like Betty's and mine on the sofa. June is pretty prudish, so it wasn't likely. But on the other hand, they are both very attractive, and both have rather unattractive spouses, and they did just spend five hours together by themselves in the privacy of our home, so who knows? I decided to keep an eye out for any clues. There was no unfamiliar car in the driveway or in front of our house when I drove up, so I assumed Tom and I must have crossed paths going home. I opened the door with a cheery, "Hi, hon, I'm home," but got no response. I found her in the kitchen washing dishes. I felt like sneaking up behind her and giving her a hug, but I had learned in recent years to suppress such urges. Any time I tried that kind of thing she would just twist away with an accusatory, "What are you doing?" So, instead, I leaned against the counter a few feet away and said, "Hi, hon, what did Tom manage to accomplish today?" I swear I saw her flush at that, but she recovered quickly and said, "Oh, mostly worked on that fence you never got around to finishing. What did you do for Betty?" "Just a bunch of odds and ends. Kitchen cabinets, windows, a wobbly picnic table." After a bit of silence I added, "So now I guess you and Betty are gonna conclude that your crazy scheme was a good idea." "I don't know," she said very quietly. "I don't think we should try it again." "Oh? Did something go wrong?" "No, no, nothing went wrong at all." She was clearly blushing now, but, hey, maybe it was just the hot dish water. ... Sure. Changing the subject quickly, she said, "It's only 3:30. maybe you could get some work done on the fence yourself." "Sorry, I definitely feel like I've done more than enough work already today. What I need to do now is relax, though the first thing I need is a trip to the bathroom." By now I was pretty well convinced there must have been some kind of hanky panky between Tom and June, but what I saw when I got to the bathroom made me twice as sure. The shower door was wet, and there was a very wet pair of panties hanging on it. No, not sex wet, just water wet. June has this odd habit of washing her panties by wearing them into the shower, rubbing soap into them, then taking them off and rinsing them before hanging them on the shower door. But why, I wondered, did she feel she needed to take a shower this afternoon before Tom left? And why did she think her panties, put on clean that morning, needed to be washed? I decided to make one more check for clues. The odds were good that whatever she and Tom had done may have involved some time on the sofa. I told her (falsely) that when I got to Tom and Betty's house I discovered that my pocket knife was missing. "Maybe it fell out of my pocket in the recliner last night." I pretended to search there, then shifted my search to the sofa. BINGO! An earring. I tracked June down in the laundry room. "Look what I found in the sofa while I was trying to find my knife." I held the earring up for her to see. Her eyes widened and her hand went first to her right ear, then to her left. Sure enough, she was wearing the mate in her right ear, but nothing at all in her left. No flush this time. Instead, all of the blood drained from her face leaving her white as a sheet. "I .. I .. must have dropped it when I sat down to watch TV," she finally stammered, grabbing the earring from me. "With Tom out working on the fence, I decided to watch General Hospital." Now she'd done it. That was an obvious lie, and she was clearly trying to cover up for something. After all, this was Saturday, and even I knew that General Hospital was a soap opera that wasn't broadcast on Saturday. I also knew she'd never figured out how to program the VCR, so she couldn't have been watching a tape. But I decided not to press her any more on the matter right then. She'd just get very defensive if I did, and besides, I needed some time to work out my strategy. So it wasn't until Sunday evening that I brought the subject up, very obliquely. "June, I think I need to tell you something. Yesterday, when I was helping Betty out, I got tired at one point." I grinned at her as I added, "You know how I like to take breaks while I'm working. Well, anyway, I kicked off my shoes, lay down on their sofa and put my feet up. Then Betty offered to rub my feet. That felt really good, so I offered to rub hers. It's not like we had sex, or anything, but it was a sort of intimate moment between the two of us. I just thought you should know, and I hope you don't mind too much." June was silent for a very long time. Finally she said, "I forgive you. And, Bob, I need to tell you something, too. I made up that story about losing my earring while I was watching a soap opera. It actually happened, I'm sure, when ... when ... Tom and I were on the sofa together. I didn't want to admit it to you ... I didn't even want to admit it to myself ... but we were sitting there together. And, Bob," She was crying now, "we ... we weren't just rubbing each other's feet. We were ... we were kissing! Oh Bob, how can you ever forgive me!" By now the tears were running down her face. "I do forgive you, June, and it's partly because I wasn't just rubbing Betty's feet, either. I also gave her a back rub, and I rubbed her calf, and even her thigh." Her eyes widened. "You did? Tom tried to rub my thigh but I wouldn't let him. But while we were kissing he did ... oh god, I'm so ashamed, ... he started squeezing my breast through my blouse, and I didn't stop him. Bob, ... I ... I was feeling like I wanted to make love, ... and I'm sure he wanted to make love, but we didn't, I swear we didn't." "Yes, yes, I know, Betty and I wanted to, too, and we didn't, either." There was another long pause, then I added, "June, you know why this happened, don't you?" "You mean because of our crazy scheme, as you called it yesterday? I told you then that I didn't think we should do it again, and now you know why." "No, that's not what I'm talking about. I'm pretty sure the real reason this happened is because of what's happened to us. I mean, you and I don't seem to have anything left between us. Just think, June, how long has it been since the last time we made love?" I waited for her to answer, but her only answer was to look down and bite her lip. "You see, that's why we were both so weak." "Look at me," I added, then stared straight into her eyes. "If we had a good sex life ourselves I don't think either of us would have been tempted." She averted her eyes. "I'm sorry, Bob, I just can't seem to feel that way about you any more." "Well, then, I'm afraid that sooner or later we're going to end up with only two choices. Either we split up, or we accept that this kind of thing is likely to happen." I let that sit there and sink in for a while, then I went on, "Look, I love you, and I don't want to leave you, but I also want some happiness in my life, and I want you to be happy. Were you happy with Tom yesterday?" "Yes," she said so quietly I could barely hear her, "very happy." "Then I think what we should do is plan another Saturday like this one." "No," she said, very shakily, "We mustn't! I don't know if Tom and I would be able to control ourselves next time." "And I don't know if Betty and I would be able to. But, June, that's exactly what I'm talking about." I forced her to look at me directly as I went on, "If this is the way we're going to live our lives together, then things like what happened yesterday, and things like a lot more than happened yesterday, are just part of what you and I would have to accept about ourselves and about each other." Almost as an afterthought I added, "I've read that some people have decided to live that way and they've been able to make it work." "Yeah, I know what you're talking about. It's called open marriage. But I don't think I'm ready for anything like that. Is that what you want, Bob?" "No, not really. What I really want is a passionate love life with you. But if I can't have that, then yes, I guess this would be the second best thing." "Are you in love with Betty?" "No way! I don't even like to look at her, but please don't tell her I said that! What does turn me on no end, though, is having her turned on to me. When that happens, and it did happen yesterday, I could care less about love or what the woman looks like." "I guess maybe it's a man thing," I went on, "but when I see a woman acting really hot I want her, no matter what I know or feel about her any other time." There was a longish pause, then I asked, "So, June, are you in love with Tom?" "No, I'm not, but the way I was feeling about him yesterday was something else. And when he started squeezing my breasts, ... well, ... I got so hot for him I could hardly control myself." Another pause, then she said, "But we're forgetting the most important part. How do you think Tom and Betty would feel about something like this?" Well, how about that for a quick attitude change? Just a minute ago she was saying she wasn't ready for it. Now she sounds like she's decided to go for it, and we just have to talk our proposed partners into it. "It seems to me you're the one that is going to have to work that out. After all, you and Betty are good friends, while I hardly know Tom." "No way! I can't even begin to imagine how to bring up a subject like that with Betty." "I'll bet if you start talking about what we guys got done on Saturday you could probably steer the topic around. Or else do what I did a while ago, and tell her that you have to confess something. Just keep reminding yourself that she also had feelings that were similar to yours." ~~~~~~~~~~ I don't know how it was done, but the conversation did take place, and on Thursday night June told me, blushing furiously, that she and Betty thought it might be nice if Tom and I worked at each other's houses again on Saturday. I reassured her that it was OK with me, and I guess Tom must have told Betty the same, because at ten o'clock Saturday morning I was freshly showered and on my way over to Betty's house. By the time I got there I had a monster hard-on just thinking about what was likely to happen. Betty met me at the door wearing a robe (and what underneath? I wondered). As she let me in she glanced down at my crotch and said, "Oh, my, you've got a real problem." Then, as soon as she'd closed the door, she looked me square in the eyes and declared, "Last week you made me come. I think it's time I returned the favor. Come on." And she led me to the sofa. "Sit down." Kneeling on the floor in front of me with her hands on my knees, she looked up at me and said, "First I want to tell you that the answer to the question you asked last week is six and a half years. And you're right, it was Tom who called a halt to it, not me. And you didn't ask this, but I'm going to tell you, that there hasn't been anybody else, but I have fantasies about it all the time. "Now, with that out of the way, would it be OK if I undid your belt and zipper?" "Oh, god, Betty! Please do." And she did. "Oh, I want to see it so bad," she shivered as she reached inside the fly of my boxers and grabbed my cock. She tried it pull it out, but couldn't because by now it was considerable longer than the slot she was trying to pull it through. I reached down, hooked the elastic with my thumbs, and pulled it up and away from my throbbing rod, pushing the top of my shorts down to my balls. "Here, do it this way." "Oh, yeah," she drooled, grabbing my cock with one hand and starting to pump while she extricated the other hand from my now wadded up fly. "Oh, I love your wonderful cock!" Actually, my penis is on the puny side, only five inches long and an inch and a half across when fully at attention. But I guess if she hadn't seen any cocks for six and a half years she might even think mine was wonderful. Now that she had her other hand free, she reached around me to pull the back of my pants and under shorts down. Naturally I lifted up a bit to help her do this. The long reach brought her head against my belly, and the lift brought the head of my cock up where it brushed against her lips. I gulped, then moaned, "Oh, god, kiss me!" Kiss me she did, but that was only the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. After kissing and licking the head, then kissing her way down one side and up the other, she started kissing her way down the underside of it. By now I was totally out of control, bucking up and down like a wild horse. "OH, BETTY, I THINK I'M ABOUT TO COME!!" She pulled her mouth away from the base of my cock. "Hey, slow down there big guy. We don't want you coming too soon." She went back to lightly kissing the tip, and with a mighty effort I managed to hold myself back, but the way my cock was jumping around I don't know how she managed to keep her mouth in the right place. Then she solved that problem by wrapping her mouth around my bulb. I was moaning and trembling with passion and my extreme attempts to keep from coming. But then she shoved her face all the way down, taking my cock into her throat, and started sucking! With a rebel yell I grabbed her head and started coming, propelling jet after jet down her throat. It must have been at least two minutes later before I was able to speak. "WOW!" I said, "I don't think I have ever come that hard in my entire life." Betty still had my cock in her mouth. Now she pulled her head up to expose it. It was still upright, still apparently ready for action. "And I," she wondered aloud, "have never seen a cock stay stiff after coming so hard. How do you do that? I know you came, god do I ever know you came, and came, and came." Well, the part about still being hard was no surprise to me. I may be small, but I have always made up for it in staying power. Once, many years ago and long before I met June, I had a lover who was multi-orgasmic to the extreme. I usually came for the first time on about her second or third one, but we would keep going for -- literally -- an hour or more after that, with me never getting soft and her coming every few minutes. There was no way that I could come every time that she did, but I did stay hard, and I kept pumping, and she was able to push me over the edge maybe half a dozen times. I'm sure I didn't have much of anything to pump into her after the first few times, but god, did those climaxes still feel great. Naturally I couldn't explain all that to Betty. I just said, "I guess you've got me so turned on that I may be able to come two or three times." "Oh, my god!" she moaned, "When you came I nearly came myself without even being touched. If you could come again and make me come at the same time I'd be *delirious*!" Was she suggesting that she wanted me to come in her cunt? I guess she could have been thinking of 69 style, or even hand jobs, but I really, really wanted to fuck her. There were practical difficulties, though. The missionary position was out of the question. If I stacked my 50 inch waist on top of her 80 inch waist, even the tip of my poor little 5 inch cock would probably be several inches away from her cunt. Coming in from behind would be almost as bad, what with her huge ass and my fat belly. Maybe if I got her legs pointing straight up and assumed a kneeling position next to her pussy ... That suggested another possibility. But I decided to start a bit cautiously. "So, what are you wearing under that robe, Betty?" She looked at me and blushed, then responded, almost shyly, "Nothing." "Well, then whatta ya say I follow suite. After all, you've already had plenty of time to look at my most private of privates. So, is it OK?" She nodded yes, and it didn't take me long to get my clothes off. "Now," I explained, "I'm going to lie down on my back, like this. How about if you climb on top of me and straddle me. ... Right, like that. Now let your ass come down against my legs. ... Can you move up a little higher? ... A little higher. ... Keep coming. ... Yeah, just like that. Do you feel anything?" "Oh, god, do I ever!! Your jumping dick is rubbing against my clit, and I'm CUUUUMMMMMM...!!!" followed by a long series of screams and unintelligible attempts at words. She finally calmed down a bit, and after much huffing and panting was able to get out a few words. "Oh, baby, ... I have never dreamed ... in my entire life ... that it could be that great! ... Did you come too?" "No, not yet, but I was hoping we could still keep going for a while." "Honey, the way I feel right now we could go on all day and all night and it still wouldn't be too much for me!" She was rubbing her pussy up and down the length of my rod, and from the growing volume of her moans it seemed like she must be getting close to another climax. "I want to be inside you," I plead. "Yes, Yes, YES!" she responded. She was bouncing up and down on me now, so I just grabbed my cock and pointed it where she could sink on it and impale herself. "YeeeeesssssS!!!!" she yelped and went off into another volley of screaming. The difference this time was that I could feel the powerful pulsing of her cunt as she tried to milk me of anything she could get. I was nearly there myself, and without even giving her much time to calm down I started pumping up into her. She met each of my strokes with her cunt and her voice. "Uh, Uh, UH, UH, HUNH! HUNH! HUHHH! HUHHHH!!!" and we both started coming. My cock would puff up bigger than it had ever been before, filling her fuck hole. Then her cunt would squeeze hard, compressing it to normal size. Then I'd puff up again and the dance between them continued, on, and on, and on. I have no idea how long that lasted, but after what seemed like hours it ended, and my prick started shrinking, and we looked at each other with glazed eyes. We were both completely exhausted. She sagged forward on top of me, and we fell almost immediately into a sound sleep. I woke up feeling I was about to fall, and realized I was lying on my side with my butt hanging almost completely off the edge of the sofa. While we were sleeping she had somehow managed to wedge herself between me and the back of the sofa. "Wake up, babe, I'm falling off!" "Huh? .. Wha?" "I'm falling, can't we go someplace more comfortable?" "You're falling? .. Oh, yes I see. It's too crowded here. Can't we go someplace else?" "How about your bedroom?" "Oh, Yes! I want to fuck in my bedroom! Let's go. I want to fuck right now! Take me there and fuck me now!!" So I did, and we did, and did we ever! I decided to try the other position I had thought of, so I put her on her back with her legs in the air. Then I crawled in behind her and spread my knees as far apart as I could, but they were still nestling against her ass cheeks. At least in this position her cunt was way up in the air, so I came up to a full kneeling position and shoved my engorged cock into her gaping hole. She gasped and started grinding against me, but she didn't come immediately this time. Probably because she was still only half awake. It didn't take her long to wake up though. I started thrusting into her cunt, and she started moaning, then grunting, louder and louder. Soon I was grunting too, and going faster and faster. The pitch and pace kept rising, until we reached another one of those mind-blowing simultaneous orgasms. Cunt and cock were dancing just as wildly as they had the first time, and again we lost all concept of time as they pulsed on and on and on. When it finally ended we again fell into an exhausted sleep. This time when I woke up I was starving. And lonely. Betty was not lying next to me. I rolled out of bed, buck naked, and headed for the kitchen. Betty was there, making grilled cheese sandwiches. She looked me up and down, then gave me a huge smile, "Hi there, lover, sorry I went off and left you, but I was starved." "Me too, what time is it?" "You're not gonna believe this -- it's after two thirty. We seem to have slept the entire day away." "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I seem to remember doing a lot more than sleeping." "So do I, lover. So do I!" She dropped the knife she was using to spread butter on the fourth cheese sandwich and came over toward me. She still (or perhaps again?) had on that robe she was wearing when I arrived, but it was hanging open now. She wrapped her arms around my naked body and kissed me. I realized with a shock that it was the first time we had kissed. The kiss went on and on as our tongues got acquainted with each other. Soon we were moaning and rubbing our chests together. "I want you again," she groaned. "I want you too, but we can't. I've only got time to eat and get dressed before I have to leave." Then it hit me suddenly. "Oh, no! I haven't done a bit of work around here today! What will you tell Tom?" "Don't worry about that," she said slyly, "June and I agreed that this was going to be a 'get acquainted' day rather than a work day." ~~~~~~~~~~ When I got home, June was lying on the sofa with her eyes closed. She was wearing a sun dress, with no bra under it, which was unusual enough, but that wasn't what really caught my eye. She was lying on her back, with one hand on her breast and the other resting at her crotch. I had never seen her do anything like that! When I walked into the room she opened her eyes and smiled. "Hi, welcome home." "Hi, yourself. Did you have a good day?" Her smile widened into a beatific grin. "Oh, yes, I had an *incredible* day! How about you?" "Mmm, absolutely fantastic!" Then I added, "On the way home I was wishing SO HARD that yours was too." She looked a bit puzzled. "Oh? Why?" "Because ... I was hoping you'd want to do this again sometime." "Oh, YES, I do! Sometime very SOON! But there is just one thing. ..." She paused, uncertain of whether to proceed. "What?" I encouraged her. "It's the three o'clock time. I .. we .. it was very hard to .. I mean, it would have been better if it was later." "Don't I know it! I think next time we can all agree to make it later." "Oh, YES!" She closed her eyes and started squeezing her breast and making tiny rubbing motions with her fingers on her crotch. "Much later," I added. At that her knees came up and spread apart, exposing her thighs and, to my amazement, her naked pussy. Her fingers darted down there, spread her lips, and started rubbing up and down, up and down. She was moaning and grunting in time with her rubbing. "Or, I know, how about if we made it for all night?" When she heard that her pelvis started pumping up and down and she started shoving her fingers deep into her cunt. "Oh! OH! Ohh! OHH! Ohhh! OHH,OHH,OHH, OOOHHHHooooOOOoooOOOhhhhh...!!!" I took that as a "yes".

Hospice Care (MF, interr, size) Original story by Dick Coxx Rewritten by SHATTIMS --------------------------------------------------------------------- A pretty blonde wife volunteers for a Hospice Care program to help ease the pain of a terminally ill black man. She does much more than she expected. I read this story in Kristen's Collection. The author declined to provide an email address, so I have not been able to ask for permission to reuse the idea or the words I kept. The story had an interesting premise, and it started well. But I found the second half preposterous, as an uptight church-going lady quickly became a total slut with no apparent motivation. I kept the first part with minor changes except for deleting a few paragraphs, then threw out all but a few phrases from the second half. My version is more than twice as long as the original. --------------------------------------------------------------------- There is nothing much more emotionally wrenching than watching your mother die, especially from a prolonged and painful illness like breast cancer. Traci Jones had been very pleased with the hospice care that her mother had received during her final weeks. Hospice care is supposed to help terminally ill patients die with comfort and dignity after all other medical measures have been exhausted. Traci's mom died at the early age of fifty-three and, after a period of mourning, Traci decided she wanted to help other hospice patients, as had the good women who had helped her mother die gracefully. Traci inquired at her church about becoming a hospice caregiver and was encouraged to take the required training. Although Mike, her husband of ten years, wasn't very interested in helping, Traci finally prevailed over him to join her as a hospice caregiver. Traci taught high school by day, so accepted an evening shift as a hospice caregiver. Her first patient was an elderly black gentleman, Malcolm Taylor. Malcolm had recently turned sixty-nine but still had a full head of hair even though it was mainly salt and pepper gray. Malcolm had been a boxer when he was younger. Until his terminal illness he had maintained his aging body with daily rigorous walks and workouts at the gym. Traci and Mike planned to meet their patient before going to Wednesday evening church service. Mike drove their new BMW over to Malcolm's apartment on the other side of town. The patient's apartment was close to being the proverbial "tenement slum", but Traci didn't want to prejudge her new patient. In fact, Malcolm seemed like a very nice fellow despite his being black. Traci didn't think of herself as prejudiced against Negroes, but she hadn't been around black people very much. Because Malcolm was terminally ill with cancer, Traci was authorized to give him some marijuana for medicinal purposes to help ease his constant pain. Malcolm readily took what was offered, as he had been in a lot of pain lately. Mike and Traci's weekly visits to Malcolm went on for several weeks. The old fellow found himself looking forward to seeing the beautiful white wife. Traci was an excellent cook and Malcolm loved what she prepared for him. She brought home cooked food with her on every visit. He especially enjoyed her blackberry cobbler. He was also very grateful that Traci always brought the stash of medicinal marijuana along with her great tasting food. But Malcolm looked frailer with their every visit, and Traci realized that her patient might not live too much longer. "Malcolm," Traci asked one week, not exactly sure how to phrase the question, "is there anything that I can possibly do for you to make your last days here on earth any better?" "Why, yes, there is, Missy." The old black man called all white women "Missy" regardless of their age. "You are such a comfort to have around. I'd like to have you spend the night with me." "Oh, my," she laughed, "you have some sense of humor." "No, I'm serious. I get so lonely at night, and besides, I worry about something happening to me with no one around." "You don't have to worry about that, you have your magic button." Malcolm was very proud of what he called his magic button. It was a little signaling device that hung around his neck on a cord. If he should fall, or have a heart attack, or something, he could press the button, and the special phone in his apartment would automatically dial an emergency support team, then switch to highly amplified speakerphone mode. The person taking the call would try to talk to him, or could listen to his breathing or moans, and could call an ambulance. "Yes, but the person that answers might be a thousand miles away, and what if I'm too sick to push the button? Besides, my magic button doesn't help with loneliness." "Oh, Malcolm, I'd like to help you, but it just doesn't seem right. I mean, it would be if I could convince Mike to stay, but," she looked over at her husband, who was shaking his head as if to say 'no way', "he's just told me he couldn't do that. So you see, it would just be you and me here alone, and I'm sure you understand ..." "I know, it's too much to ask, but you did want to know what you could do to make my last days better, and that is what would help the most." Traci didn't know what to say. The man was obviously very lonely, and in a way she felt good that she had been able to bridge the racial barrier enough that he could tell her what he really wanted. Before she could come up with any words, he went on, "Of course I know you couldn't stay tonight, but would you think about doing it some other night?" Shortly afterwards, they said their good-byes as she and Mike went on to Wednesday evening church services and then back home. Later that night, as his lovely wife was getting ready for bed, Mike said, "Can you believe what that old black codger said? He actually said he wanted to fuck you." "Mike! Shame on you," she replied indignantly, "he said nothing of the kind. Malcolm said that he would like to have me there for the night, not ... what you said. We could just talk, and I could help put him to bed." "I really don't think that's what he meant, dear. He wants to stick his big black cock into your sweet little white pussy before he dies." "Stop it! I don't ever want to hear that kind of coarse language from you again." "That's tough. I'm just telling it the way it is. There are many men out there who would love to fuck you, and you know it. Any black man would give his left nut to fuck you. Black men only want to rape white women. Don't you know that? He wants to fuck you just like every other black man does." "Mike," Traci said emphatically, "first of all, that's a very prejudiced thing to say. Black men are people, too, and I imagine there are as many good black people as white people. Secondly, that old black man is one of the gentlest people that I've ever met. I know he respects me for who I am." "Traci, you are just kidding yourself. Fucking is one of the most basic of instincts. If that old guy can still get a hard-on, he would love to stick it to you." "Right," replied his wife sarcastically. Traci put on her black lace nightgown, turned off the bedroom light and slipped into bed with her husband. Mike had a raging hard-on just talking about the old black man possibly fucking Traci. She must have also been turned on because that night they made the most passionate love that that they had made in a long time, not just once but twice. Mike thought that twice was highly unusual but he loved it. His dick almost got hard a third time thinking about the black man's big cock thrusting in and out of his wife's tight little white pussy. The next morning at breakfast, Traci said, "Okay I'll do it." "Do what?" asked Mike. "I'll spend the night with Malcolm." "What? You're crazy!" "No, I'm not crazy. He's a lonely old man, and he had a dying request, and I'm going to do it." "Traci, honey, you can't do this to me. I'm shocked that you would even consider it, but don't you care about me? How do you think I would feel sleeping alone at home and thinking about him fucking you all night long?" Actually, his little white dick was fully erect and twitching as he said that, but he wasn't about to let her know that. "You're just being silly. Nothing is going to happen." "I don't believe it," Mike replied, shaking his head, "but I know you well enough to know that when you've made up your mind I can't do anything to change it." "OK, it's settled, then. Next Wednesday when we go over we can take both cars. You can stay for dinner, then drive home. I'll go directly to the school in the morning." "No way. If he's going to get to fuck you, I'm not going to hand you to him on a platter. And I'm not going to sit there and watch him drool over what he's going to get as soon as I leave. So you can just drive over there by yourself if you're planning to spend the night." "Oh, Mike, Mike, have you no faith in me at all? I'll bet you just said that to try to convince me not to do it, but it's not going to work." "'Do it', huh? So you are going to fuck him." "You know that's not what I meant," she said, but she was blushing. The next Tuesday when Traci got home she couldn't get Malcolm off her mind. How was he going to react to the idea of her spending the night? What if he hadn't meant it at all, or had had second thoughts? She had been thinking that she would surprise him Wednesday night, but she decided she should call him instead, and let him know what she was planning. Malcolm was surprised, but surprised and delighted. He let her know that he was looking forward to her visit with great anticipation. Traci tried to listen carefully to his words for any hint that his mind was in the gutter the way her husband's had been, but he seemed every bit the gentleman he had always been. The next night Traci got away from school as quickly as possible after her last class. She dashed home to pick up the dessert she had prepared, the clothes she would be wearing the next morning, and the cosmetics she would need. She told herself she didn't want to drive in that rundown neighborhood after dark, refusing to admit the real truth, that she hoped to get away before Mike got home from work. She thought about a bath, but reasoned she could make do with Malcolm's shower. As she was getting things together Traci was surprised to discover that she was feeling nervous. 'You're being silly,' she told yourself, 'it's not like you are going out on a date, or something.' 'Oh, sure,' her conscience told her sarcastically, 'you're just going to spend the night with some guy.' Not wanting to listen to that kind of nonsense, she pulled out a bottle of wine and poured herself a good-sized glass which she drank as she laid out some food for Mike and wrote a note to him. The wine did help; the butterflies were nearly gone by the time she climbed into her car for the drive to Malcolm's place. She didn't want to leave her car on the street overnight, not in that neighborhood, so Traci was relieved when she found a space in the apartment complex parking lot. As she swung her beautiful legs out of the car, she heard a whistle from a black man sitting on the tenement steps. "Ooohhh, whee. Look at 'em pretty white legs. Me and my big 'Willie' here sure 'nuf would likes to see where they meet." Traci blushed bright red at the Negro's lurid comments. She quickly tugged on the hem of her skirt, but not before she had given the man quite a show. She should have worn a longer skirt, or maybe pants. Why in the world had she picked one that only came to her knees? As she walked up the steps to ring the doorbell, she almost lost her courage. 'What,' she thought, 'if Mike is right? What if he tries to rape me, or something?' 'You're being silly,' she told herself, 'the poor man is close to death. He probably couldn't even get it up, and he certainly wouldn't have the strength to force me.' But somehow the thought of him trying to get it up gave her a curious tingle. Traci paused at the door. 'Should I ring, or just go on in? He might be in bed, and I'd hate to make him get up.' But she couldn't quite imagine walking unannounced into the man's apartment, so she rang the bell. The door opened almost immediately. He must have been waiting for her. Malcolm smiled and welcomed her in. "Come in, come in," he said, "I wasn't sure if you'd show. Make yourself comfortable. Let me pour you a glass of wine." Traci thought about the large glass of wine she had already drunk, and she knew that it didn't take much to make her tipsy, but she accepted his offer, and he shuffled off to get it. She settled in on the sofa, and soon Malcolm joined her, sitting close beside her and lighting up a joint. After taking several deep drags on the reefer, Malcolm offered the roach clip to her, but she shook her head. They chatted for a while about various things, as she sipped her drink and he continued to smoke the potent weed. Before long she felt like she was breathing in a thick haze of marijuana smoke, but she knew that it was helping him with his pain, so she didn't complain. She could tell that she was getting a bit lightheaded and giggly, so told herself sternly that this was the last glass of wine for her. What she didn't realize was that it was the secondhand smoke, as much as the alcohol, that was loosening her up. At one point Malcolm shook his head, and said, "Missy, you have no idea how happy I am that you came tonight. I told you when you came in that I wasn't sure if you would come. That's not exactly true. I was standin' there by the door, hopin' you would come, but almost sure you wouldn't." She turned to him, rested her hand on his thigh, and gave him a slightly spacey smile. "I'll tell you a secret. When I was walking up to your door I almost turned around and left." "I'm sure glad you didn't, but why did you almost do that?" "No, it's too embarrassing," she demurred, "I can't tell you that." "Don't be embarrassed. Tonight I jest feel like we're very good friends, and good friends can tell each other anything." "Oh, yes," she gushed, leaning her shoulder against his, "I feel like we're good friends, too." "That's wonderful. So tell your good friend what was bothering you." "Well, for one thing, I've never been," she couldn't resist a giggle, "alone with a black man before. And to think that I would spend the whole night here ..." Then she got very serious. "Do you know what my husband said? He said he thought you might ... you know ... try to take advantage of me." Suddenly she was blushing furiously, and pulled away from him. "I don't wonder," Malcolm said, reaching over and patting her thigh. "I realized in thinking back on what I said that it could have been taken the wrong way. I'm really sorry, Missy, that I didn't say it better, and I hope I didn't cause a problem between you and Mike." With a rush of relief she looked him in the eyes, shook her head and said, "no, no problem. But, oh, I'm so glad you said that!" Her hand went back on his thigh as she spoke, and he rested his on her thigh at the same time. "But, my dear, I think now it's time for me to make a confession. When I started thinkin' about how you could have taken it the wrong way, and then thought about you saying 'yes' anyway, well I sorta' started wondering if maybe you would come expecting ... well, expecting a little more than I thought at first you would." "Oh," she caught her breath. There was that tingle again. And it really was nice to be sitting here so close to him. She stroked his thigh a bit, and the tingle intensified as he echoed that by stroking hers. "We said we were like good friends tonight, right," he asked. "So would it be OK if I said something I really shouldn't say at all?" "Yes, anything," she assured him. "While I was waitin' for you to come, and thinkin' about, you know, what I said a minute ago, well, I started having some feelings in me that I hadn't had for a long time, and I started gittin' sorta' ... you know ... well, excited. I'm really sorry, I shouldn't of been thinking that way about you, but you really are a very pretty young woman, and I jest couldn't help myself. Can you forgive me for having feelings like that about you?" The tingling was getting worse, but she told him of course she forgave him, "Don't worry about it, I understand." "You're so good to me, like an angel that has come into my life, at its very end. Could you do one little favor for me? I jest want you to stand in front of me for a spell and let me look at you." "Of course, Malcolm, you want me to stand here, like this?" "Yeah, but close your eyes. I want to be able to look all up and down your body, but I don't want to embarrass you, and I know you'd be embarrassed if you saw me staring." If he thought he was making this easier for her, he was wrong. She wasn't exactly embarrassed, but she was definitely getting turned on, and having her eyes closed was just intensifying the feeling. But, after all, he deserved a bit of happiness, with all he was going through. She only hoped that he couldn't see her shivering. "Oh, Missy, this is just so fantastic. I can't believe you're doing this for me. Can you cross your arms now? Yes, like that. Now rub your hands up and down your arms. Oh, yes, honey! When you were sittin' beside me I wanted to rub my hand up and down your arm, but I know'd I shouldn't." Oh, God, this was too much. As she rubbed her arms she was imagining that it was his black hands on them, stroking up and down, up and down. "Why don't you move your hands up to your neck, now, and stroke your neck, because I wanted to do that, too. Doesn't that feel nice? I'm imagining how soft your skin feels. ... Now stroke your cheeks. Yes, like that." This was crazy. Why was she doing this? It was like she was hypnotized or something, and had no choice but to do whatever he suggested. "Now move one hand to your mouth, and stroke it lightly, while you move the other one down to your shoulder. Slide your fingers across from one shoulder to the other, right below your neck. Keep doing it, back and forth, back and forth. "You can go a little lower, you know. Let your fingers slide inside your blouse as you push, then out over your blouse as you pull back the other way. Doesn't that feel good?" "Oh, yes, very good," she gasped, imagining his hands on her mouth and stroking her just above her breast. "I'm guessin' you might like to move your hand a bit lower, but you don't feel you could do that with me watching you, could you." "No, no, I couldn't do that." "I'll tell you what. I'll close my eyes now, so I can't see what you're doing. And you don't have to tell me, neither, so you can be free to do whatever you want. Oh, and you can open your eyes now, so you can be sure that mine are really closed." "But you haven't closed yours," she exclaimed as she opened her eyes and looked at him. "No," he smiled, "I was waitin' to see if you were going to open yours. See, mine are closed, now. I promise to keep 'em closed 'til you say I can open them ag'in." Now she had a crazy urge to look at his body. His hands were clasped at his belly, and ... OH, MY! She could see his sweat pants tented out immediately below them. 'Well, what did you expect,' she told herself, 'after the show you've been putting on for him.' One corner of her brain was sending out alarm signals, but she ignored them. They were being swamped by the signals coming from other parts of her body. She really did want to touch her breasts; no she really NEEDED to touch her breasts. And he couldn't see her, so why not? She was soon lost in her passions, stroking and squeezing her breasts with both hands, and so wishing that her blouse and bra were not in the way. She had closed her eyes again, and was imagining that they were his hands working their magic on her. She was shocked to suddenly hear his voice. "Oh, baby, I can tell by the sounds you're making that you're really getting into this. I want so much to be able to open my eyes and see what you're doing. Please, baby, let me open my eyes." Her eyes jerked open in horror, and her hands stopped moving. Had he been cheating? Was he already watching what she was doing? No, his eyes were still tightly closed. He was being a true gentleman. But she couldn't let him see what she was doing. "No, I'm sorry Malcolm, I can't do that. I wish I could, but I can't." "Why, baby? I need it so much. I promise I won't touch you or nothin'." She shuddered and squeezed her breasts convulsively. He needs it so much. He needs it so much. I should let him ... NO! That would be naughty. "Please don't ask me, Malcolm, please!" "Oh, I get it. I'll bet it's because you've got your blouse open, and I could see your bra. Or maybe even your tits. Is that why I shouldn't see?" Traci blushed beet red. "No," she finally got out, "no, it's not that, it's just ... oh Malcolm, we shouldn't!" "I don't see what's so bad about it. When you had your eyes closed I was staring at your boobs, through your blouse, and that's all I'll be seeing now, right? PLEASE, baby, PLEASE!" Her hands were busy stroking and squeezing again, and she was imagining them being his hands, and she was dying for him to see what he was doing to her. "Oh, Malcolm, honey, it's OK, you can look." His eyes popped open, and a huge sexy grin appeared on his face. At the edge of her vision she thought she saw his hands moving, and she was dying to see what they were doing, but she didn't dare look. Her eyes were locked on his, and his were cycling between her face and her breasts. "This is so hot, baby. Now I want you to move one hand down and rub your belly. ... Oh, yeah! ... Now take both hands an' put them on your hips. ... Yes, right there at your waist. ... Now close your eyes, and start sliding them slowly down the side of your body. ... Pretend those are my hands movin' up and down your hips." If he only knew! She was already pretending that every touch was him touching her body. and it was driving her crazy. "Move your hands clear on down past your hips to your legs, and move them back up, then down again. Be careful that you don't go too far, though. You don't want to let me put my hands inside your skirt, do you?" She shuddered. Actually, she'd love to have him put his hands inside her skirt, but she mustn't let it happen. "No, that's true, you mustn't do that." "Right, we have to stay within the rules here. Now slide your hands around to the back of your legs, and start moving them up. Remember, we're pretending those are my hands stroking your legs. Careful, now, I must just barely touch you on the upward stroke. We wouldn't want your skirt to be pulled up too much. Now I can press a bit harder as I move back down your leg. Bring my hands up the back of your legs one more time. Keep coming ... How do my fingers feel, now, stroking your ass?" "No, we mustn't do this. This is naughty." "I'm sorry, you're right. Put my hands back around to your hips, where they belong. It's OK if we move them up and down just a little bit right there, isn't it? ... Now bring my hands around to the middle of your waist, to your belly. Don't go any lower, that would be naughty, wouldn't it? ... Pretend I'm reaching around you from behind, and rubbing your belly. That's safe, isn't it? ... Don't my hands feel nice, stroking you there?" "Oh, yes, they do." "Perhaps just a bit higher would be nice, don't you think? But be careful, don't touch your breasts. Having a man touch your breasts might be dangerous, you know. I mean, I'm sure it would feel very nice, but we mustn't let ourselves get carried away." 'No,' she thought, 'don't torture me this way. I need your hands on my breasts.' "So, what do you think, baby? If I just barely let my fingers graze the bottom of your breast, so we hardly knew it was happening, we could control ourselves, don't you think? We know we mustn't go too far, so maybe just a little bit wouldn't hurt. I mean, it's not like I'm really touching you, we're just pretending. And a while ago you were stroking and squeezing your breasts, so this wouldn't be any more than you've already done, right?" "Oh, yes," she moaned, "that feels so good, so good, so good. I love feeling your hands on my breasts. I mean ... pretending." "I'm going to circle my fingers around your nipples now. DO it! ... Smaller and smaller circles, ... now PINCH!" "OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD!" "I'm going to keep pinching with one hand, but I'm going to move the other down to your belly. ... Yes, like that. Keep going ... lower." "NO! NO! You have to stop. You're almost touching me down there. Please stop, please stop, don't go any further. Oh God, oh God, your fingers are driving me crazy. Please take them away. Please!" "OK, we're going to move that hand back up to your waist. Stop shaking like that. You'll be all right, I promise. But now my hand needs to touch your belly. It needs to touch the naked skin of your belly. Are you going to let it do that?" "Yessss, I want to feel your hand on my naked belly." "OK, unbutton the bottom button of your blouse, and pull the tails out of your skirt. We must be very careful; you mustn't let me see anything I shouldn't see. You have to keep your panties hidden. It would be naughty if I saw your panties." "Yes, that would be very, very naughty. ... Oh, I hope you didn't see that. There was just a little bit there, but it's hidden again now. "Oh, your hand feels so good on my belly. Can I stroke it a little bit?" "Yes, we're going to stroke it, back and forth, and back and forth, and up and down, and around and around in little circles. It's OK, isn't it, if it goes just a tiny bit inside the waist of your skirt? My fingers need to feel your belly button. ... Yes, like that. Oh, God, I wish I could really be touching you, and not just pretending like this. "Oh, baby, I can't stand it any longer. We have to bring my other hand down, and slip both of them inside your blouse. ... Yes! Yes! like that. ... Oh, Missy, my thumbs are itching to move up just a little bit. ... Just a little more. Surely it can't be much farther. ... YES! I feel it. I feel it! My thumbs touched your bra. Did you feel my thumbs touch your bra? Now my fingers need to touch it too. Tell me what kind of bra you have on, so I can imagine what I'm touching." "It's nothing special. Just an ordinary white cotton bra." "Oh, it's special to me. I love touching your bra. Please let me move my whole hand up and cradle your cups in my palms. ... Oh, my wonderful, wonderful baby! You're making me so happy! I don't deserve this." "It's OK, I don't mind a bit. Really, really, I don't. Don't you know I'm enjoying this too? In fact it's really happening to me, while you're just imagining it, so don't you think I'm enjoying it even more than you are? Oh, I wish there was some way I could let you enjoy it even more. Without, I mean, you know." "There is one thing you could do, if it wouldn't be too much. I wish I could see my hands, I mean your hands pretending to be my hands, I wish I could see them right now ... where they are." "That's the least I can do! Here, why don't we unbutton my blouse, like this. Just a few more buttons and we'll have it all. Now you can see your hands on me, see. Oh, your hands feel so good, squeezing me like this." "I want even more. Take your blouse off and throw it over here where I can touch it, and stroke it, for real." "Oh, Malcolm, this is very naughty, but I don't care. I love feeling your hands squeezing my breasts, and at least you should be able to feel something. So here, here's my blouse. Feel it all you want." "Oh, god, I love seeing your whole bra, and the curve of your breasts. No, don't squeeze them right now, I want to look. Put your hands behind your head, and arch your back forward. ... Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Just seeing you is so hot! Now I need to see a little bit of your tits for real. Keep your hands behind your head, but bend forward at the waist. ... Head up now! Look at me. ... Oh, God, I'm in heaven. "Stay bent over like that but take your hands down now. Put them on your knees; on your knees under your skirt. Remember, those are my hands you're feeling." "Oh, Malcolm, oh, Malcolm, your hands feel so wonderful on my legs. What if you moved them up, just a little bit?" "OK, honey, just a little bit, but not too far because that would be naughty, wouldn't it?" "I don't know. Do you really think it would be naughty if you saw my legs? I mean, women wear miniskirts, and shorts, and swim suits, and show off their legs to men they don't even know. Wouldn't you like to see my legs?" "Oh, baby, you know I would! But be careful. You mustn't let me see your panties." "Yes, that would be naughty, wouldn't it. Very naughty. No, no, I mustn't let you see my panties. I mustn't. ... There, now you can see my legs, but you can't see my panties, can you? Please say you can't." No, I can't see your panties. Even if we pulled your skirt up to your waist I wouldn't see your panties, because the way you're bent over I can only see your tits. Your tits would be covering your panties even if you didn't have a skirt on at all. How would you feel about that, honey? How would you feel about not having a skirt on at all?" "Oh, no, that would be too naughty, too naughty." "Yes, I suppose it would be, but is it too naughty that my fingers are rubbing your panties now? Please don't say it is. I love feeling your panties with my fingertips." "But it's so naughty for you to be touching me this way." "Yes, I know it's naughty, but it's not too naughty. Do you understand?" "I suppose you're right, and it does feel so nice." "Of course I'm right. You can trust me. We might do some things that are a little naughty, but we're not going to do anything that is really nasty, now, are we?" "No, we mustn't do anything nasty." "Right, baby, naughty can be nice, but nasty is bad." "Yes, naughty is nice, nasty is bad." "I know something just a little bit naughty we could do. What if we move my hands around to the back of your panties where they can rub your ass?" "That's not nasty?" "No, it's just a tiny bit naughty, and it would feel so nice. "Oh, God, yes, it does feel so nice. I love feeling your hands squeezing my ... squeezing me back there." "Say it, Missy, or I'll take my hands away. What are my hands squeezing?" "My ASS, my ASS, you're squeezing my ass." "Let's try something, just to see. Bunch your skirt up, clear up to your waist. I want to be sure I can't see your panties. ... Yeah, like that, and no, I can't see a thing, so you can leave it there. "Now I'm going to stroke your ass again. Isn't that better, without your skirt in the way? What am I doing, Missy? Tell me what I'm doing." "You're stroking my ASS, and it's driving me wild." "Oh, dear, we can't let you get too wild, now, can we. I think it's time to move my fingers. I want to touch more of your panties, but you mustn't let me touch your panties between your legs, because that would be nasty." "Yes, nasty, nasty!" "OK, not between your legs, but how about the front of your panties up higher, where your belly button is? That would be naughty, but not nasty, right?" "Yes, let's. But it's kind of hard, because my skirt is all wadded up there. I mean, your fingers could go down lower, but that would be nasty." "Yes, I can see what you mean. Your skirt is in the way, and it's making it hard for us to keep from being nasty. We don't want to be nasty, do we?" "No, no nasty." "We just want to be a little more naughty, right?" "Yes, naughty is nice, very nice." "So we're going to have to be a little more naughty just to be sure we don't get nasty. Put my hands back on your waist, outside your skirt." "Why? This isn't naughty at all. I need to feel your hands on my panties, PLEASE!" "Oh, you will. But first you need to find the button or hook that is holding the waist of your skirt. And you probably have a zipper below that, right?" "Yes, it's a button, and I found it." "You may need both hands over there to unbutton it, and unzip." "Yes, I got it. And now we can slip your hands inside my waistband like this, and oh God, oh God!" "True, but I'm not going to do that. I'm going to use my hands to push the waist of your skirt down over your ass." "Oh, but if you do that ... see what you've done? You made my skirt fall off altogether." "Isn't that kind of naughty? Not nasty, but naughty." "Yes, so naughty, so naughty. I feel so naughty." "Now I want to look at you some more, so I want you to shut your eyes. Are they shut? So you can't see how I'm looking at you?" "Yes, they're shut. Are you looking at me?" "Yes, but I can't see what I need to see. I need to see your panties. I know you're feeling so naughty that you want me to see your panties. Admit it. Tell me you want me to see your panties." "Oh, Malcolm, I do, I do, I want you to see my panties." "So stand up, baby, stand up so I can see your panties. Oh, YEAH! Keep your eyes closed, baby, so I can stare at your whole body. Do you feel my eyes probing you all over? I'm staring at your panties, all over your panties, even the part that's between your legs. It's naughty to look at you this way, baby, but it's not nasty. I can look, and not touch. No, I can't touch your pussy, baby, and I can't see it naked. That would be nasty. But it's covered, so I can look at it. Doesn't it feel really naughty to know I'm looking at your panties where your pussy would be if I could see it? Doesn't it?" "Oh, yes, that feels so naughty, I love the way it feels so naughty." "What I can touch is your bra. You already let me do that, didn't you? So now I need to touch it again. Oh, yes, that feels so good to me. Doesn't it feel good to you, too?" "Oh, yes, oh yes, it feels so good. I love feeling your hands on my tits." "I wish I could be touching your skin, rather than your bra. Don't you wish I could touch your skin?" "Yes, but that would be nasty." "I don't know, I don't think so. Touching your pussy would be nasty, but touching your tits is just very naughty. Go ahead, unhook your bra so we can be very naughty. You know you want to do it." "I do, I want it so much, but you're sure it's not nasty, just naughty?" "Go for it. Naughty is nice, very, very nice." "OK, I will. I know this is very, very naughty, but I don't care. ... OH GOD! That feels so fantastic! You're touching my tits. ... Now you're touching my NIPPLES! OH GOD! I love the way you're pinching. I love the way you're pinching. I think I'm going to COME! "Stop it, Traci! You mustn't do that! That would be nasty." "I don't care. I don't care. I don't care if it is nasty. OHHH!" "Traci! Open your eyes this instant! Get control of yourself." Traci opened her eyes and got the shock of her life. Malcolm was still sitting on the sofa in front of her, but now he was stark naked. In her sexually aroused state there was no way she could keep her eyes from zeroing in on his crotch. And such a shaft he had sprouting from there. It was rigid and swaying back and forth, but SO BIG! It must be nearly twice as long as Mike's, and she had never imagined that anyone could have something as fat at that. Her mouth dropped open and she simply stared, fingers still pinching her nipples. "You like it, don't you?" Traci simply nodded, unable to speak. "Kneel down in front of me so you can see it up close," he ordered, and she obeyed. "This is nasty, now, Missy. You don't care if it's nasty?" She shook her head, eyes never leaving his cock. "Nasty is bad. You want to be very bad, don't you?" She nodded enthusiastically. "Then reach out and touch it. ... That's right, you can stroke it. ... Oh, not so fast. We don't want it spurting all over everything, now, do we? Slow and easy. ... That's right. "Oh, baby, my johnson wants to kiss your nipples. You'll let it do that, won't you? Just bend down and push your bra out of the way. First one tit and then the other. "Oh, my, I think I saw a little spasm in your body from that. My johnson is already making you start to come. Shouldn't you kiss it to say thank you?" Traci shuddered and bent down to kiss the tip of the huge black rod. Mike had asked her to do that and she had always refused, but tonight she was eager to comply. "Now it's my turn, baby, to kiss your tits. Up high on your knees, and let me bend forward so I can kiss you there. We really don't need this bra any more, do we. Let's get it out of the way." When Malcolm's lips enclosed her nipples, Traci suddenly found her voice. <B>"OH GOD, ... OH GOD, ... I WANT IT, ... I WANT IT."</B> He pulled away long enough to ask, "what do you want?" She grabbed for his cock and started pumping frantically. "I want it IN me, IN me, IN ME," she chanted, over and over. "Sure, baby," he grunted as he pushed her onto her back and came down on top of her, latching onto her nipple once again. His hand went to the sopping wet crotch of her panties. Her pelvis started jerking up and down, forcing his hand against her. "FUCK ME! ... FUCK ME! ... FUCK ME," she screamed. With her ass bouncing up and down he had no trouble pushing her panties down far enough to expose her glistening cunt lips, but going farther was going to be a problem because she had her legs spread as wide as possible. He solved the problem by grabbing her knees and pulling them up to her tits then swinging around her near leg and aiming his cock directly below her wadded up panties. "Put it in for me, Missy," he whispered hoarsely. Traci didn't need to be asked twice. She reached between his loins and guided the huge black organ towards her widespread pussy. Malcolm eased the tip against her tight opening and began to press forward. At first it appeared that the giant black monster wouldn't fit. Malcolm grunted as he thrust his hips forward in a powerful stroke. Traci screamed out loudly as just the thick knob penetrated her near-virginal opening. Malcolm knew she could scream all night and not bother anyone. Nobody in this neighborhood had ever investigated a scream before. They figured that someone was either getting beaten, or getting the fucking of their life. Traci was about to get the fucking of her life. Indeed, she already was. That huge cock had only just started to penetrate her and she was already bucking as wave after wave of climax hit her. Sex with Mike had never been anything like this. Malcolm took his time: in an inch, then let her scream and buck a bit; as soon as she started to calm down he fed her another inch and she started up all over again. Finally, Malcolm worked all ten inches of his thick black cock into her tight white pussy. As he ground into her, his kinky, coarse black dick hair intertwined with her curly fine blonde pussy hair. This was intermingling of the races at its best. She ached to feel their juices intermingle, too. She needed his cum so bad! He pulled out several inches and then shoved hard. She screamed again, in pure passion this time. Her whole world dissolved. Nothing could survive pleasure this intense, but somehow she did. Oh, God, he was pulling out again. He's going to ... he's going to ... YEEEEEESSS! This time her cervix was flooded with months of pent up sperm, and added its spasms to those wracking her entire body. It was several minutes before her body calmed down enough that her brain could start working. By then Malcolm's cock had shriveled and popped out of her cunt. But with her first semi-rational thought she knew beyond a doubt that her husband's puny white dick would never again be enough for her. She'd give herself to Malcolm as often and as long as he was able. After that ... well, she didn't know what would come after that, but one way or another she'd have to find a big black cock to satisfy her. Maybe that guy outside who said his big Willie wanted to find out where her legs met. She sure would like to find out how big his Willie really was. Her pussy was already beginning to twitch again at the thought of what lay ahead.

It's Only a Game (MF,MF, swap) --------------------------------------------------------------------- Two couples get carried away playing an adult version of a silly children's game. The title is meant to be taken literally. There's not much plot here, but this game that I invented many years ago seems to have some richly erotic possibilities. --------------------------------------------------------------------- It was getting to be a habit, but a nice one. Every Saturday evening we'd get together with Bob and Peggy, either at their place or ours. We'd have dinner together, play some cards, and just enjoy the company. Fran and I agreed they'd become our best friends, and I think they felt the same about us. There wasn't anything overtly sexual about our relationship we were just friends, or so we thought until last week. We'd gone over to their house this time. They both greeted us at the door; Bob gave my Fran a big hug, and I did the same to Peggy. There was nothing unusual in that, we always hugged when we got together and when we said good night. And yet, there was something different about it for me this time. I've heard people talk about perfume being "alluring". Well, now I know what they mean. Whatever it was that Peggy had used that night really turned me on. I flushed and broke the embrace somewhat abruptly. 'Shame on you', I thought to myself. Peggy had fixed a really nice dinner, pot roast with all the trimmings, and had some excellent red wine to go with it. Fran and I usually don't drink at all, but we each had two glasses this time. I don't know, maybe it was the wine, but I kept smelling that perfume and I kept watching Peggy out of the corner of my eye. I'm sure it was the wine that had us all giggling by the end of the meal. After the girls had cleared the dishes we all sat back down for a game of cards. "What'll it be, Hearts?" "Naw, I'm tired of that, how about Canasta?" "We can't, we only have one deck." "Well, we could always play Poker." "But I didn't bring any money," Fran objected. "No problem," I threw in, "we could play Strip Poker." Whatever possessed me to say that I'll never know. The wine and the perfume, I guess. Bob and Peggy both laughed, but Fran looked shocked. "Ted! Shame on you!" "I was only joking," I protested. But then Fran giggled a bit herself. "Do people actually play that, or is it just a joke?" "Oh, I understand people actually do." Bob said. "Hell, I know they do. In fact," he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper "I played it once myself." "You did? And just exactly when was that?" his wife demanded. "It was long before I met you," Bob explained. "In fact I was just a kid. And to tell the truth, it wasn't all that great. I mean, you'd probably guess it was very erotic, and ended in an orgy or something. But it was really mostly just embarrassing." "So, what happened?" I prodded him. "Well, one of the gals did have to take off her bra, and you'd think that would have been a real turn on for the guys, but she was so embarrassed about it that we ended up feeling sorry for her instead." "Did you stop playing at that point?", Fran asked. "No, not really, but ... oh hell, let's change the subject." "Oh, no," we were all pushing him now, "you gotta tell us how it ended." Bob was obviously very reluctant to finish the story, but he finally admitted, "Uh, the game ended when I got cleaned out and had to take off my undershorts. I was dreading it so much that by the time it happened I was totally limp, and everybody teased me about how small I was." We all had a good laugh over that, except Bob, who was quite red in the face. "Well, I guess we can forget about that one," Peggy finally declared, "so what can we play?" "Actually," Bob said a bit hesitantly, "a guy at work told me about game that he said was a lot better than Strip Poker." I was all ears. "All right, tell us more." "Well, OK, but it's kinda raunchy." The girls both giggled. "Hey, we're grownups, we can handle it," Fran threw in. Now it was my turn to be shocked at her, but I didn't say anything. "All right, you asked for it. The game is called 'Peter, Pill, and Mary' for that folk singing trio back in the sixties, but it's really an adult version of the old children's game called 'Paper, Scissors and Stone'." "I remember that," Fran said, "and it sounds pretty boring." "Oh, I don't think you'll find this boring," Bob replied with a wicked smile. "If you remember that game, you do this thing of two people pounding their fists into the palms of their other hand in a rhythm together as they both say 'one, two, three', but on 'three' they may change their fist to another shape. Well, in this version the shapes are Peter, Pill, and Mary. "Maybe you can guess what shape Peter is." We all snickered a bit nervously at that. "Yep, it's the famous Finger." Which he proceeded to produce. "Pill is the birth control pill, which you show as a flat hand, and Mary is, well just a woman, but you show it as an open fist with your thumb and forefinger making a circle like this. It's supposed to represent her c... umm vagina." We all giggled again, even more nervously. "See, the thing is," he went on, "Peter wins over Mary because he can penetrate her." This with a rather graphic demonstration as he made Peter with one hand and Mary with the other, and ran Peter in and out, in and out, of the hole. "See, I told you it was raunchy." The girls were both tittering but trying to hide it. Me, I felt just bold enough from the wine to say, "go on, tell us more." "Well, the Pill wins over Peter, because it can thwart his primary purpose in life." Another demonstration followed, of Peter being stopped by the flat hand. More titters from the girls. "Finally, Mary wins over the Pill, because she's the one who decides whether to take it or not." Bob paused and looked around the table. He was apparently satisfied by what he saw. "Now, time to get started. You and I can go first, Peggy." "OK, what do I do," she giggled. "Just decide which shape you are going with ... Now make a fist and here we go: one, two, three." On three, Bob came down with Peter and Peggy came down with Pill. "OK, you win. That means you get a point. All you have to do is get eight points and you've won the game. Now you do it with Ted." I thought I heard my Fran breathe a sigh of relief at that point. I imagined her thinking, 'That shouldn't be too hard'. But I was quickly diverted to other thoughts ... thoughts of peters and perfumes and cunts. Guessing that Peggy might try the same thing again, on three I opened my hand to be Mary. I looked at her hand, and yes, it was flat. "Ted wins," Bob declared. "You have to name something you are wearing, and let him take it off from you." "You didn't tell us about that part!" Peggy was obviously flustered. I was grinning from ear to ear. "Come on," I said, "what'll it be?" She flushed, but then said, "a shoe". She and Bob were sitting on one side of the table, with Fran and I on the other. Peggy was across from me, and Bob across from Fran. I got up, walked around the table, and knelt beside Peggy's chair. She cautiously slid her foot out from under the table and I slipped her shoe off. "Now what do I do with it?" I asked. "Go sit down, and put it on the table in front of you," Bob replied. "So now it's my turn with Fran, right?" Bob shook his head. "Nope, Peggy keeps playing now until she gets fully dressed again. So here we go, Peggy. Are you ready? One, two, three." She decided it was time for a change in her game plan, and tried Mary this time. But Bob once more produced Peter. "Yes!" he said as he ran his finger in and out of her open fist. "Now what do I get to take off?" "My other shoe, I guess," she said a bit shakily, and he proceeded to slide his chair out, kneel beside her, and remove her other shoe. Then she turned back to me, biting her lip in nervousness. My mind raced. What would she pick? Maybe Peter? I went with Pill, and so did she. "A tie," Bob declared. "Nothing happens, and it's my turn again." One, two, three came up Mary for both of them. Back to me: Mary for me, Peter for her! "Oh my," she breathed as she ran her finger in and out of my hand. "I get to put my shoe back on now, right?" After she did she turned to Bob. Peter/Pill for him/her. She blocked his finger thrust then retrieved her other shoe. "OK, Fran, now it's your turn. Since I did the last round with Peggy, you start with Ted." I turned to her, and our eyes locked. What would she come up with? One, two, three: Peter/Mary. "Do I get your shoe now?" I grinned as I pumped my finger in and out of her fist. "I guess so." I took it off her foot and she turned to Bob. This one came up Mary/Mary, so it was back to me. Peter/Pill meant she blocked my finger, got her shoe back, and it was the end of her turn. Bob and Peggy came up Pill/Peter so he took her shoe off. Peggy and I did the same thing with the same result. I'm sure she thought Bob would never expect her to do the same thing three times in a row, so she did peter again. But Bob did keep his "winning hand", leaving him grinning widely and asking, "Now what can I have?" Both girls were dressed casually in slacks. Peggy was wearing a white blouse with large violet flowers in a pattern on it. Fran had a pale yellow pullover sweater on. I happened to know that she had a lacy white bra under it, and pale yellow panties with a bit of lace at the leg holes. Of course I had no idea what Peggy had under her blouse and slacks, but I found myself doing a lot of imagining. I wasn't even sure what she had on her feet, though I had taken her shoe off twice now. Maybe full length nylons? Maybe calf high? Maybe panty hose? 'Please let it be panty hose' I thought. If so I was going to find out something right now about what she was wearing underneath. "My sock," she said, and slid the leg of her slacks up to her calf so Bob could take it off. He did, and said, "oh, by the way, one more rule. When a guy takes off something that exposes skin he gets to kiss any part of that skin he chooses." He pulled Peggy's foot up and leaned over to kiss the top of it. Now it was my turn again. Oh, god, if I could only win: Mary/Mary. Rats! She turned to Bob: Pill/Pill. Back to me, another chance: Mary/Peter. "I got you," she said, grinning lewdly as she ran her finger in and out of my fist. In and out, in and out! Then she put her shoe back on leaving her with one bare foot and me with a growing erection. She and Bob came up with Peter/Mary and it was his turn to do some lewd simulated "finger fucking". He added her other shoe to the growing pile in front of him. Another big chance for me! Mary/Peter. "I win again," she drooled, pumping furiously in and out of my fist. "so I get to put a shoe or sock back on." "Not so fast," came from Bob. "He doesn't have any of your things, so you don't get to put anything on." "Oh, so then I get a point, right?" "Nope, you can only collect points when you are fully dressed." "That's not fair!" "It's the rules. Now stop pouting, and it's our turn, so let's do it. The game must go on." Pill/Peter: "Oh, no!" She wailed. "Oh, yes," he said intensely and took her other sock off. "There's no way I'm going to play any more. What if Ted wins now? I don't have anything left for him to take." 'Oh yes you do!' I thought. 'OH YES, OH YES!' But Bob's response cooled me off quickly: "Don't worry, there's another rule that comes into play here. He won't be able to take anything off." With that assurance she turned nervously to me: Mary/Mary, foiled again. Back to Bob, and it was Mary/Pill. "Oh, no! Now what?" "Well, I assume you'd rather have me take your blouse off than your pants, right?" "You're crazy, you can't take either of them off until Fran and Ted go home." "Why not? I'm sure Fran has seen lots of bras, and I'll bet Ted would love to see you with your blouse off. Right, Ted?" My face turned bright red, and so did Peggy's. "See, what'd I tell you? But like I said a minute ago, you don't have anything to worry about, I'm not going to take it off. When we get to this point we can't take anything off without first getting dibs on it. So now, I get dibs on your blouse. Like this." And he rubbed his hands up and down the side of her chest, caressing the material of her blouse. She buried her face in her hands. "Come on," he said, "it's Ted's turn." God how I wanted to get my hands on that blouse. One, two three: Pill/Peter. Yes! I came around the table behind her and rubbed my hands up and down the side of her blouse. I was dying to reach on around her and play with her tits, but Fran was glaring at me, and besides, Bob had restrained himself, so I guessed I could, too. "I've got dibs on your blouse!" I said in a shaky voice. "Rats, that means I don't have dibs on it any more," Bob put in. "Come here baby, and let's see what I can do about that." What he did was Mary/Mary so it was back to me. "Phew! I hate to tell you this babe, but if Ted wins this time he can take your blouse off." "So what," she retorted quickly, "I'll bet he can't win." And she was right. We came up Mary/Mary. At least I still had dibs. And unless I was mistaken, Peggy was really starting to enjoy this tease. Bob's turn again: Peter/Mary. "Yes!" he said as he pumped his finger in and out of her fist, "Now I'VE got dibs on her blouse!" He wasn't nearly so chivalrous this time. "Her whole blouse," he added as he moved his hands from her waist up her belly and chest and cupped her breasts. "Bob, stop that!" "Why? I thought you were my wife." "Yes, but we're not alone, and you might give Ted some naughty ideas," said with a coy look at me. Bob just laughed, and then let her go. Peggy turned to me, somewhat flushed. I've got to touch her blouse again! One, two, three: I couldn't look: Mary/Pill. Oh, god, I was in heaven. I was around behind her chair in nothing flat, and my hands went straight for her belly button. She was quivering! I could feel it distinctly through her blouse. My cheek was touching her neck, my nose next to her ear. That perfume! As my hands started moving up to her breasts I looked defiantly at Fran. She glared back with barely contained rage. I stopped just short of Peggy's breasts, and reluctantly returned to my chair. Peggy looked like she wasn't even there. She was staring blankly and not moving a muscle. "Snap out of it, Peg. It's our turn," Bob said. She turned, and mechanically pounded her fist following his lead, but I doubt if she was able to make any kind of real decision. When Bob came down Pill, so did she, probably because that is what she had done with me. So it was back to me, and I already had dibs: Mary/Mary. Shucks, I had guessed she would keep doing the same thing. She started playing faster. Bob: Peter/Peter. Me: Mary/Peter. She gave me a passionate look as she pumped her finger in and out of my fist. Again I had nothing she could take back, but Bob announced, "Sorry, pal, you just lost dibs on my wife." And on the game went. Bob and she came up Mary/Pill, and he played with her breasts. Then I got Pill/Peter, and this time nothing was going to stop me from cupping her luscious globes. I closed my eyes so I couldn't see Fran's angry face, filled my nostrils with Peggy's intoxicating scent, and whispered in her ear, "I've got dibs on your whole blouse," while I moved my hands slowly over her round softness. Incredibly, Bob and I kept on winning. Bob said, "No I've got dibs," as he kissed her neck below her chin and squeezed and pinched her tits through her clothes. "No, Bob, it's me, not you," as I kissed the nape of her neck and kneaded her breasts. I could hear her breath coming in short gasps. Bob said, "Oh god, I want your blouse so bad," as he circled her tips with his fingers. He leaned forward to kiss her, and she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him wildly with much snorting and moaning. They were obviously both horny as hell. But the streak couldn't last forever. She and I came up Mary/Peter. "How'd you like to get some of this?" she groaned as her finger pumped my encircling hand. That broke dibs, but didn't give her anything to put on. Then she beat Bob, so she put a sock back on. But she and I came up Peter/Mary. "Oh, yes I would," I said answering her earlier question as I pumped in and out of her sweaty hand. This time I didn't even try to walk around to her side of the table. I pretty much fell out of my chair and crawled under the table to her foot. I tore her sock off and planted wet kisses from her ankle to her toes. By the time I finally managed to get myself back into a sitting position, Bob had felt her up thoroughly after I don't know what. She turned back to me with her mouth half open and her head moving slowly from side to side. Pill/Mary: "Sorry, lover boy," she whispered as she took back her sock. She continued to win or tie over Bob, and tie with me, until it was his turn again and he had only one shoe. Then the tide turned once more and Bob started winning, while I was still getting nowhere. Finally, when Bob had both shoes and a sock, I came up Peter/Mary, YES! One quick finger stroke into her hand and then I dived under the table, stripped off her other sock, and nearly devoured her foot. While I was still doing that, she and Bob came up Pill/Pill, so she had nothing to do until I surfaced and could try again: Pill/Peter, OH, BABY! I heard her now sultry voice say, "How would you like it if I came around to your side of the table this time." I liked it more than words could tell. I liked not having to stand up and show off the huge tent at the front of my pants. I loved watching her hips swivel as she walked toward me. I nearly died as her crotch came closer and closer to my face. I was in heaven as she kneeled down beside me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and started kissing me. My hands went straight to her tits, and I heard her quiet moan inside my mouth as our tongues pumped wildly into each other. "Hey, slow down!" yelped Bob, and at the same time Fran barked, "Stop that this minute!" Peggy and I reluctantly parted. She went back to her side, sat down, and we kept on playing. Now she was winning, and got everything back except for one shoe that Bob had. Then luck turned my way, and soon I had her other shoe and both socks. Another big chance for us: Pill/Pill, so I got nothing, but neither did she. A bit later I got another chance, and this time we came up Peter/Mary. We put our heads together across the table as I pumped my finger in and out of her oh-so-willing hand. "Let's sneak under the table where the others can't see what we're doing," I moaned, and that's what we did. It didn't work out as well as I hoped, though, what with two jealous spouses kicking us. But I was able to whisper a thought in her ear. "Maybe we should try to get you fully dressed again, and give Fran a chance. If we could get her hot for Bob, we could get away with a lot more ourselves." I won't bore you with all the details, but after about half a dozen more "one two three's" she had both socks and shoes back on, and it was Fran's turn. Fran, however, shook her head, "No, I don't think we should play this game any more." "But you haven't hardly played at all," Bob protested. "I don't care, I don't want to play any more," Fran insisted. But Bob looked her in the eye across the table and said, "oh yes, you do. This is our chance to get even with them." Fran looked intently at Bob for a bit, then turned and glared at me for a while, and finally looked back into Bob's eyes again. "All right," she said, "I will." She and I started, and came up with Pill/Peter, so I took her shoe off. I saw her mouth something to Bob, so wasn't a bit surprised when he won on Mary/Pill and took her other shoe off. Back to me with Pill/Mary and she put her shoe on. Another quick signal to Bob gave him both shoes. What they were doing was obvious, but neither Peggy nor I had any intention of challenging them. On my turn it was Pill/Pill, and she and Bob were ready for the next step. Sure enough, Peter/Mary gave him a chance to "finger fuck" her which they milked for all they could, and also gave him one of her bobby socks. And it gave her a thoroughly kissed foot. She and I came up with Mary/Peter. She giggled as she pumped her finger into my hand, but of course I didn't have anything else to give her. The next round with Bob was a foregone conclusion, Mary/Pill to be specific, and Fran was barefoot. She and I did the Pill/Pill bit, and now the suspense mounted. I didn't see any signal this time, so maybe he just got lucky: Peter/Mary. "Oh *yes*!" he said as he ran his finger in and out of her hand. "Oh yes, *indeed*!" as he reached across the table and slid his hands up and down the side of her sweater. I was surprised he didn't attack the front of her sweater, and I suspect we all were, but he was probably smart to give her a little more time. She turned back to me and I beat her out with Mary/Pill. "Now I've got dibs on your sweater," I said with a wolfish grin. I started with my thumbs on her belly button and slowly stroked upward until my fingers were caressing the sides of her breasts and my thumbs were pressing against their base. "Ted! Stop that," were her words, but I didn't believe them. She turned, a bit flushed, to face Bob across the table. Pill/Mary: she put a sock back on. Peter/Mary: I did the finger bit in her fist, then took her sock and kissed her foot. It was another chance for Bob, but he came up Peter/Pill so he lost her other sock. Pill/Mary with me meant she had both socks on. Then he got one back, and kissed her foot, on Mary/Pill. She and I tied, and he beat her again with Mary/Pill, leaving her barefoot. She beat me, but I had nothing to give her, so she turned to Bob again, biting her lip. It was just a tie. My turn: Peter/Mary! "Oh, yes, honey! I've got dibs on your whole sweater!" She was really blushing now as I rubbed my hands all over her breasts. A tie with him left me grinning evilly. "If I win this time I can take your sweater off." One, two three: Peter/Mary!! "No!" she moaned, burying her face in her hands. "He can do it if he wants to," said Bob with a face that left no doubt that he wanted me to. "But I have to tell you there's another rule that applies here. If he wants to give you another chance, he can." "Please, *please*, give me another chance," she begged. "OK, I will." "However," Bob stuck in quickly, "This means you have super dibs on her, and because she is so grateful, she is really going to thank you. Fran, you're going to sit on Ted's lap, wrap your arms around his neck, and kiss him passionately while he feels your tits up through your sweater." She did, and I did, and her kisses seemed quite genuinely passionate. We finally broke the embrace and she turned a bit shakily to Bob. Mary/Pill: "Yes! Now I get dibs on your sweater again!" he said excitedly. He came around behind her this time, and didn't hold back. His hands cupped her breasts and he started squeezing them. She blushed furiously, but didn't complain or make any move to stop him. Finally he backed away and she turned to me. Peter/Pill: I had nothing for her to take back, but it did mean Bob lost dibs. She and Bob tied, as did she and I. Then he beat her with Mary/Pill. She gave him a wink and a sultry smile. "How about if I do the same thing Peggy did a while ago, go to you this time." Bob's eyes were locked on her breasts and midsection as she swayed her way over beside where he sat, and knelt down. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her cheek against his as he squeezed and pinched her tits. Her face was out of my view, so I had no idea what she might be whispering to him, but little doubt that she whispered something. She certainly seemed to be in no hurry to break away from him. Peggy and I finally suggested that was enough, and Fran came back and sat down. She and I tied, so she turned back to Bob. "You know I already have dibs on your sweater," he said in a tight intense voice. "I know that," she said just as intensely. But they tied, so she turned back to me. Pill/Peter: "Oho," Bob said, "It's super dibs time again!" Fran quickly climbed on my lap, pulled my lips to hers, and started pumping her tongue in and out of my mouth. At the same time she was bucking her chest against mine, her body begging for attention. That I was happy to provide, kneading and pinching her super-hard tits though her sweater. As she finally broke away from me she mouthed something to Bob, and sure enough he got dibs again on Mary/Pill. She actually ran around the table, pulled him out of his chair, and then collapsed, pulling him down on top of her. Not under the table this time, and safely away from any possible kicking feet. She spread her legs then wrapped them around him. Their pelvises were pounding into each other, and their mouths were locked together. After a bit it was my turn to suggest they had better slow down. They reluctantly returned to their seats, and she and I came up Mary/Pill. That meant it was our turn for some wild simulated action on the floor. To no one's surprise Fran followed that by a similar round with Bob. They met on the floor at the end of the table, but this time she took the top position, pounding her crotch against his and bending over for noisy french kisses while he worked her chest with one hand and her ass with the other. When they finally separated she tied with me, and once again Bob "beat" her with her assistance. "Oh YES," he roared. "I've already got dibs on your sweater, so now I take it off." "But what about super dibs?" she asked batting her eyes and licking her lips. "Remember, that's my choice." he explained. "And I choose to take your sweater!" "Whatever," she replied hotly, "if you want it you've got it." "What I really want, I'm not allowed to do right now, but I am going to obey the skin-kissing rule." With that he knelt at her feet and started sliding her sweater up, kissing her belly button and working his way up to her bra. She was panting and gyrating and holding his head against her body. When her sweater got up to her bra strap I suddenly remembered that I had noticed while we were getting dressed at home that her bra was a bit skimpy for what it had to cover. Fran was facing directly away from me, so I couldn't actually see what was going on, but I was pretty sure that Bob must be taking full advantage of that right now, kissing every bit of breast skin he could reach. As for Fran, she let out a moan that gradually turned into a shriek, reached down to grab the sweater under her arms, and tore it off. Then she grabbed Bob hard, clawing at his back. Since they were oblivious to our comments, Peggy and I finally had to separate them physically. He retrieved the sweater from the floor and they both sat down panting heavily. Fran couldn't keep her eyes off Bob even as she did the "one, two, three" with me. I'm sure she had no idea what she was doing, but she came down with what appeared to be Mary. Since I had the same thing, she could immediately focus all of her attention where most of it already was, on Bob. Once again the whisper, and once again he won. "Oh, baby, YES, now I've got dibs on your pants!" She stood, and he was on his knees in front of her, sitting on his calves. His cheek was rubbing her lower belly as he kneaded her ass and slipped his hand in from the back between her thighs. "Oh, OH, OHHH!!" she screamed as he rubbed her pussy through her pants with the side of his finger. When we finally got them settled back in their seats, I figured I'd let her go a little further, so I picked Mary once again, and sure enough, she did too. There was no way she wanted to stop now, so Bob came out ahead again by pre-arrangement. He tore at her zipper, undid the button above it, and shoved her pants down to her feet. She was standing with her hands gripping his shoulders tightly, her head thrown back, and her yellow panties thrusting again and again toward his face. He scrunched down further so he could kiss her thighs. She spread her knees as wide as possible and guided his mouth to the lace next to her pussy. Then she shifted his head just enough so that his kisses were centered on the crotch of her panties. It was only a gasp and a series of shudders, but I'm absolutely sure she came. Wild horses couldn't have stopped Bob now. He threw her to the floor, tore off her panties, yanked his own pants off, belt and all, and landed on top of her pumping frantically. I stopped watching at that point, as Peggy and I dove for the floor at the other end of the table. She unzipped her pants, and kicked them and her panties off. I unfastened my belt and was likewise naked from the waist down in a flash. She pulled her knees up and spread her legs. I crawled between them and started pistoning my wildly jumping cock against her body, searching for her cunt. She guided me with her hand, and I sank my shaft deep within her. I had never wanted anything so much in my life, and when I got it I came immediately. squirting jet after jet into her. When I finally calmed down, she said, "Oh, I did want that, but I wish you hadn't come so soon." "Don't worry, I'm only just getting started," I said. "I'm sorry I couldn't wait, but I needed you so much." Indeed, my engorged dick stayed as hard as ever, and after resting a bit I started pumping again, first slowly, and then faster and faster. She must have already been pretty close herself, because after only a couple of minutes of that she came, screaming. I wasn't there yet myself, but I stopped long enough to let her recover, then renewed my assault. This time we both came together. When I was able to focus again I looked down at her and saw her staring wide-eyed at me. "That was fantastic," she whispered. "Oh, Ted, hold me close." We clutched at each other and kissed passionately for a while, until suddenly she pushed my face away from hers. "God, Ted, this isn't possible! I still feel you so big inside me! Don't you ever get soft?" "Not while I still feel as horny as I do right now," I replied. "I'm so hot for you I think I may be able to come four or five times." "Oh GOD," she shuddered, "that would be fantastic!!" "Let's roll over," I suggested. We managed to do so without losing our connection. She immediately started bouncing up and down on top of me, her knees squeezing the sides of my chest. I decided it was time I got to see a bit more of her, so I unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her bra. She shrugged both of them off, and there I was staring up at her huge boobs, bouncing up and down as she rammed herself onto my shaft again and again. I wrapped my arms around her back and curled myself up so that my face was next to one of those globes. That perfume again! Now I knew where she must have put it. I caught a tit in my mouth as it swung by, and started sucking on it. My hand stole around her ribs to find the other tit, and proceeded to stroke and squeeze and pinch. From the sounds she was making, she was almost there. I slid my other hand down the small of her back to her ass, and crammed a finger into her crack. With a scream she started cumming over and over, wave after wave. That was all I could take, and I joined her. PULSE, squeeze; PULSE, squeeze; PULSE, squeeze. My cock and her cunt were doing a dance that seemed like it would never end. We finally did calm down, and our gasps turned to normal enough breathing that we could talk again. My cock was still inside her, and still pretty stiff. I tried moving it up and down a bit to check, and yes, it was still up to the job. "OH, YES, you're *superman*!," she panted. "I never dreamed any man could do what you have done to me tonight!" "Have you had enough?" I asked. "Ummm, maybe. No, not quite, if you could do just a little bit more." "My pleasure," I said, with a few more pelvic thrusts up into her hot wet hole. "I'd like to be on top again." As we rolled over I caught a glimpse of Bob and Fran, sitting naked on the floor. Or rather, Bob was sitting on the floor with his back against a table leg, and Fran was sitting on his lap with her back to him. They both had expressions of exhausted bliss, but Bob still had one hand on her tit and the other buried in her pussy. They were both watching us, but like I say, I just got a glimpse of them. I was much more interested in watching Peggy. "Now let's really put on a show for our spouses," I whispered to Peggy after I was on top of her. "But this time I want you to keep your legs closed and I'll straddle you." "OK, but first," she said, "I want to take off your shirt so I can feel your chest against my tits." That done, I once again started pumping my rod into her. Her closed thighs made for a lot more friction than I would have had just from the inside of her totally sloppy cunt, and I was going to need all the help I could get. Hell, I'd already come three times within the last hour! But it still felt great, and soon I was pounding into her at a furious rate. And it wasn't long before she forgot her doubts, and was coming up to meet my every thrust while making an indescribable moaning/squealing sound. A mental picture of Bob grubbing in my Fran's pussy kept slipping into my consciousness and was somehow even more of a turn on. Fran told me later that we were going at it furiously for about ten minutes, and that for half of that time Peggy's ass never touched the floor. She just kept pushing it up and up to get me as deep as possible into her. She finally screamed and clawed my back, and her massive pussy contractions brought me to yet another climax. When we came back down to earth at long last we looked to see what the others were doing. Fran was on her hands and knees, and Bob was going at her doggy style. He had both hands on her tits, and she was moving her body up and back, up and back, in time with his thrusts. Then he came with a roar and she responded with her whole body twitching. After they collapsed we all lay there for a long time. Finally I propped my head up on an arm and said, "Hey, Bob, I just realized we never finished that game we were playing. Would it have ended when we managed to strip one of the gals naked?" "No way," he snickered. "There are some more special rules about what happens then, and believe me, it can get wild." "But," he added, "I really like the way we ended the game. How about you?" We all agreed. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Footnote If you'd like complete rules for the game the couples play in this story, send me an e-mail: To: [email protected] Subject: games.txt In the body, just say "Peter, Pill, and Mary". No strings, no spam. I do not harvest email addresses. And by the way, a message formatted as specified is under 1 KB. If you send me some multi-KB message with that topic, or a message with an attachment, I'm going to assume it is spam or a virus, and delete it without reading it. What you will get back from me will also not have any attachments, though it will be nearly 10K long. While I'm on the subject, I've created quite a few erotic games. Since they aren't stories they don't belong here, but I'll send you a list of them with a summary of each if you send me an e-mail with the above subject and "Catalog" in the body.

Ice Storm (MF, swap, cheat, oral, anal) --------------------------------------------------------------------- A swapping experiment that doesn't go at all the way the four participants expected it to go. I found a version of this story on a very disreputable site - one of those where they steal stories, strip off author information and make them available for "free", along with payloads that they try to slip onto your computer without you noticing. Because of that I refuse to tell you where I got it, and I am unable to tell you who wrote it. That latter is a real shame, because this was a very well written story. My only disappointment was an ending that I considered to be weak. As sometimes happens, I set about trying to remedy that, and aproximately doubled the length of the story. Looking at what I wrote I can see that I didn't come anywhere close to the first author's literary style, so I have broken it into an original chapter, where I made only minor editorial changes, and an added chapter. You will discover that the sexual activity is muted in Chapter 1, and goes into overdive in Chapter 2. That, however, is due less to change of author than to the state of affairs I was given to work with. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 1 by unknown author It was 5:30 Sunday morning and I had already been awake for at least half an hour. I had tried to get back to sleep but I was just too keyed up. Nancy, her long blonde hair obscuring the lovely features of her face in the pre dawn light, lay next to me sleeping peacefully. I slipped carefully out of bed so that I would not wake her and went downstairs to the kitchen. I started a pot of coffee, then sat staring out the window toward the brightening sky in the east, while in my mind I kept asking myself, 'How did I let this happen? How could I put my marriage in jeopardy this way?' I had to admit that I had enjoyed myself the night before, but I didn't think it was worth the price I was going to have to pay this morning. This whole thing started last Saturday night when my friend John suggested that we get together for dinner and a movie. That meant that we would all contribute something to the dinner and we would rent a movie. When we got to John's house he took me out to the garage to see the 69 Firebird he was restoring. While we were talking cars and drinking a beer Jill came out and said that she and Nancy would cook the dinner and clean up afterward if they got to choose the movie. John and I agreed to their terms and opened another beer. For dinner we had T-bone steaks, baked potatoes and tossed salad. Along with dinner we polished off two bottles of an excellent red wine. After dinner John and I sat in the living room and started watching a baseball game while the girls cleaned the kitchen. When they finished cleaning up, the girls drove down to the video store for a movie. When Nancy and Jill came back with the video, we waited for John to make a pitcher of whiskey sours in his blender, then all sat down together to watch the movie. The girls had rented 'The Ice Storm'. I they thought it would be a chick flick but I am not sure what I would call it. It was a quirky movie with some strange subplots. The thing I have to tell you about it is that there was a scene about a wife swapping party. The time period of the movie was the seventies, and it was the stereotypical swappers' party where the men all put their car keys in a bowl and the women drew keys to see who they were going to have sex with. That wasn't the climax of the movie, but it did became important to the four of us later in the evening. When the movie was over we sat around drinking whiskey sours and discussing the many strange characters in the movie and how it ended. By then I had plenty to drink and was feeling no pain, and I think everyone else was pretty well smashed too. It was at this point that John said, "What'd you think of that wife swapping party? You think anyone does that anymore?" I said, "I doubt it. Not in this day and age." Nancy said, "You really think not?" I said, "It's too dangerous. You'd have to know the person you ended up with really well to feel safe, not to mention the person that your wife ended up with. There's no way you could know everyone at a party like that well enough to be comfortable about it. And your life is at stake if someone has AIDS." Then John asked me, "Yeah, but if you had the chance to go to a party like that and did know that it was safe, no AIDS, no herpes, or anything like that, would you do it?" I looked at my wife to see her reaction, but before I could see anything in her expression John interrupted me, "Don't look at her. I didn't ask what she would want to do. What would you want to do?" Being that I had way too much to drink, I didn't really think about my answer. I just blurted out, "Well it's always been kind of a fantasy of mine to do something like that, but I don't think I could ever really go through with it." Both women were looking at me like I just shit on the floor, and John was laughing his fool head off. Next John turned to the women and asked, "Have either of you thought about swapping?" I could tell John was ripped. He would never have asked a question like that otherwise. Jill was the next to speak, "Actually, I have fantasized about it a couple of times after reading a story or seeing it in a movie like we did tonight. But it's only a fantasy, I would never really do it." Then Nancy said, "Yes, I've thought about it, too, but I don't think I'd be able to go through with it, either." I was just drunk enough to say perhaps the stupidest thing I have every said, even if I did only mean it as a joke. "Well, we're all friends, maybe we should try it together." I laughed after I said it, and John was laughing with me, but I noticed that my wife didn't even smile. John said, "Well, I am all for it, but I know you would never have the nerve to do it." I should have known that John was baiting me by the way he said that. But in my less than lucid condition I challenged him right back. "Don't underestimate me." This time I didn't look at either of the women. I saw this as a point of honor. John said, "All right, let's do it right now." I said, "I don't think that would be a good idea. I think we have all had way too much to drink. It will have to be another time." "Chickening out already?" John asked I actually was trying to back out of the hole I had dug for myself, but I wasn't going to be called a chicken. "No, I am not backing out. Let's do this next week." Then an idea came to me that I thought would give me some chance to get out of this. I said, "Let's make a game of it. We will come over here next Saturday evening at seven o'clock. When we get here you and I will put slips of paper with our names on them in an envelope. The girls will each draw a slip from the envelope and the one who draws my name will leave with me. That sound okay to you?" John agreed, then said, "How can you guarantee that you will go through with this?" I said, "The same way you can. We will each put up $1000. If one of us doesn't go through with this he forfeits his money." John thought for a minute, then said, "Done!" About then I noticed that Nancy and Jill were both being very silent so I decided that we should probably go home. I knew I was going to be in trouble, but I was still drunk enough to think that this wasn't that big a deal. Boy was I wrong. It started as soon as we got into the car. "How could you? Do you think I am some kind of whore you can just pass around? This is not going to happen, so you better call John tomorrow and end it." The rest of the ride home was more of the same and it continued for an additional hour after we got home. Finally she let me go to sleep. When I got up in the morning I was terribly hung over. My head hurt so bad I couldn't sit up and my stomach was so upset that I couldn't keep anything down. And all the while I was being nagged to call John. It wasn't until nearly three o'clock in the afternoon that I felt well enough to make the phone call. After we exchanged greetings I said, "That was some little party we had last night. We were pretty drunk." John agreed and said, "My head still hurts a little." I asked, "How did it go after I left? You get any flack about the party we planned for next weekend?" As John spoke I felt as if I was being punched in the stomach. "No flack here. We are both looking forward to Saturday. How about you, did you have any problems?" I don't know why, but I lied, "No problems at this end." John said, "Good, because I would hate to have to take your thousand dollars." I said, "Don't worry, we'll be there." Then I hung up the phone. When I turned around she was standing there with a stare that could kill a large animal, and I was the animal she wanted dead. "I didn't hear you tell him that you weren't going to go through with this. What I heard you say was that we would be there Saturday. Why?" I said, "I'm really sorry I got us into this, but I don't know how to get out of it yet without losing the $1000. I need time to figure something out. If I can't come up with anything we'll just have to sacrifice the money." I looked down at my feet for a moment and when I looked up again she was gone. For the rest of the week it was very quiet in our house. She wouldn't speak to me and I knew better than to try to start a conversation. I just wished that I knew what she was thinking. I was worried about losing the money, but I was more worried about losing her, so I was going to leave it up to her to do whatever she felt she had to do. I was hoping that she would at least let me know what she was thinking. All day Saturday, still no conversation. Then finally at 5:30 that evening I found a note, addressed to me, on the kitchen counter. The note just said, "We can't afford to lose $1000. I'll be ready on time." There was no signature. My wife is an attractive and sexy woman and I always enjoy watching as she gets dressed to go out, but this night the bedroom door was locked. I had to shower in the guest bath. By the time I finished my shower the bedroom was open and I was able to go in and get dressed. After I dressed I sat down on the bed for a moment to think about what was happening. All week long, and up until I got the note, the only thing I could think about was how could I get out of this and not lose my money. But now that my wife said she would go along with it I realized that I didn't care about the money. Now all I could think about was that she might soon be having sex with John, and I couldn't really come to terms with that. The idea of leaving her with John for a night of sex was tying my stomach in a knot. I was still thinking about this and suffering mental and physical distress when I heard a voice say, "It's time." For a moment I thought the voice was in my head, then I realized it came from my wife who was waiting downstairs for me. When I got down there I saw she was wearing a short black skirt and a white blouse with black stockings and black high heeled shoes. As I picked up my keys she put on a trench coat and went out to the car. On the drive over to John's we didn't speak. When we pulled up in front of the house I said, "I don't want you to have to do this. Let me just pay him the money and we can forget the whole thing. I love you and I will make this up to you." For a second I didn't think she was going to speak but she finally did. "I am going through with it to teach you a lesson. Next time you think of making any kind of a commitment that includes me you had better be sure I'm in agreement. Also, when this is over, you are going to give me the $1000, because I will have earned it. I intend to see to it that John has an exceptionally good time tonight." I felt like she had just torn my heart out. Before I could recover she was out of the car and headed for the door. John greeted us at the door, lead us to the living room, and offered us a drink. I declined. I wasn't sure I could hold one down. For a moment we all stood there feeling awkward. Jill and Nancy were standing next to each other, both beautiful in different ways. Jill is tall, with short brunette hair and a very nice body. Nancy is a little shorter than Jill with blonde hair that comes just past the shoulder and she also has a nice body. As I looked at the two of them I began to have mixed feelings. If we do end up swapping, I might at least be able to have a good time. If not, maybe I can start fixing the damage I had done to our marriage. John broke the silence. "Well, shall we do it?" With that he handed me a pencil and a piece of paper. As I wrote my name on my paper John did the same on another piece of paper. We each folded our slip of paper and put it in an envelope. John held out the envelope to Nancy and said, "You draw first but don't look at the name yet." Nancy slipped her fingers inside the envelope and drew out one of the pieces of paper and held it in her hand. John held the envelope out to Jill and said, "Your turn." Jill removed the remaining slip of paper and waited to be told what to do next. John cleared his throat, which told me that he was probably as nervous as I was, but I wondered if it was for the same reason. "Now, when I tell you to, open your slip of paper but don't say anything. Just come and stand beside your date for the night. Okay, you can look now." Jill and Nancy opened their slips of paper and looked at each other, then Jill came over to me and gave me an open mouth kiss, but I was a little too nervous to fully appreciate it. When she broke off the kiss, Jill said good night and went and stood next to John. Then Nancy kissed John and said good night, came and took me by the hand and we headed for the door. As soon as we were in the car Nancy said, "Boy am I glad that's over," and she kissed me, then asked, "Are you all right?" I said, "I will be," and I kissed her deeply. We sat there in the car necking like teenagers for about twenty minutes. Finally I said, "We better leave," and started the car and headed for home. When we got back to the house I fixed us both a drink, and as Nancy sat on the sofa I turned on some romantic music then joined her there. I kissed her gently on the cheek and said, "I am really sorry I started this whole thing. I hope you know I was only joking about swapping when I said the four of us should do it, but before I knew what was happening John had me backed into a corner that I was too drunk to get myself out of it. I guess all's well that ends well." Nancy kissed me and said, "I forgive you, and I expect Jill will forgive you, but I'm not sure if things are going to turn out the way John wanted." I was feeling a lot better now. I got up and pulled Nancy to her feet and we started dancing to a Sinatra song. As we danced we kissed and ran our hands all over each other. I put both of my hands on Nancy's beautiful ass and pulled her against me. She responded by pressing against my crotch. Before long we started pulling each other's clothes off. When I had Nancy stripped to her panties I sat her down on the sofa and I knelt on the floor between her knees. I reached up and took one breast in each hand and began to kiss her nipples, then gradually changed that so I was sucking the nipples into my mouth and working them with my tongue. Nancy sat back on the sofa and pushed her hips toward me and started moving her legs in and out. I kissed my way down over her stomach to the top of her panties, then I bent down and put my mouth against the gusset of her panties right over her mound. I began suck her right through her panties. I had them soaking wet in less than a minute. When Nancy started humping her pussy against my mouth I pulled her panties off and went back down on her. The taste of her juices was making me so hard I thought I was going to lose my load. I stood up and took Nancy by the hand and we went up to the bedroom. When we got to the bed Nancy told me to lie on my back and then she went down on my cock. Her mouth felt so good and I was so horny that I only lasted a minute. I yelled, "I'm cumming," but Nancy just kept sucking and when I started to ejaculate some of it ran down my shaft and some she swallowed. I knew it would take me a little while to recover so I went down and made us another drink and brought it upstairs. We sat and talked while we drank. When we finished our drinks, Nancy crawled on top of me and started kissing my chest and sucking my nipples. She continued moving down over my stomach and down to my cock. I was still limp but when Nancy started working on my cock with her lips and tongue she soon had me stiff again. When she had me completely erect she moved up so she could sit on my upper thighs and get my cock inside her pussy. Nancy bounced up and down on me until she had an orgasm, then I pulled her around into a 69 position and we gave each other oral pleasure for quite a while. After Nancy had another orgasm, I got between her legs and slipped my cock into her hot pussy and began slowly stroking us both to one more orgasm. After I came we held each other until we both fell asleep. So here I am sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee at six o'clock Sunday morning. I had just started my second cup when I heard a thump on the front door that meant the newspaper had been delivered. So I got the paper and sat reading until I heard Nancy in the shower. I thought about going up to join her in the shower but decided against it. I just wasn't feeling good about myself yet. Nancy came downstairs with a towel wrapped around her body and retrieved her clothes from the living room, then disappeared upstairs again. When she came back down she was dressed. I fixed breakfast for us, then we just sat quietly reading the newspaper. After a while Nancy asked me if I was all right. "I guess I'm still not comfortable about all this." Nancy said, "Well, get over it or it will drive you nuts." It was ten o'clock when I heard the sound of a car in the driveway. By the time I got to the door I could see Jill and John walking up the steps together. Even though it was a warm morning, Jill was wearing the trench coat she had on last night. As I opened the door for them I noticed she had a small plastic bag under her arm. We all exchanged greetings, and after a few awkward moments Nancy and John left. When John's car was out of the driveway I asked Jill if she was all right. Instead of answering me she tossed the plastic bag on the sofa and then let the trench coat slip off her shoulders and drop to the floor. It took me a few seconds to comprehend what I was seeing. Jill was standing in front of me wearing a black satin bra and matching panties, a black garter belt with black stockings and black high heel shoes, and nothing else. My first reaction was that she looked really sexy, but then it hit me that she had dressed this way for John and not me. The second impact came when I looked more closely. Her neck was covered with hickeys. Her breasts were sitting in her bra like she had put it on in a hurry and didn't care how it looked. More red marks on her belly. Then the thing that brought it all home for me. The gusset of her panties appeared to be wet, and there were spots on her panties that looked like dried cum. The tops of her stockings also appeared to have dried cum on them. Jill gave me a strange smile, held her arms out to her side palms up, and asked, "Do you like what you see?" Before I could respond, Jill turned to go upstairs. As she started up the stairs I noticed that the back of her panties was also wet. When she was half way up the stairs Jill turned to me and asked, "Are you coming?" I quickly followed her upstairs. Once in the bedroom Jill looked at the unmade bed, then at me. I didn't know what to expect next. Jill walked over to me and put her hands behind my head, pulled me to her, and gave me a deep tongue kiss. When she broke off the kiss she pulled away and asked, "Did you like that?" I nodded yes. Then Jill said, "Good. On the way home in the car I was sucking on John's cock. I didn't take it out of my mouth until we pulled into the driveway." I could see she wanted to hurt me but for some reason it was making me horny. Jill kissed me again and while she did she took my hand and guided it inside her panties. Her pussy was a mess. The hair was all sticky and I could feel cum leaking out of her slit. Jill said, "Feel good? John fucked me this morning just before we headed over here. That's why I don't have my clothes on. He also had his cock in my ass and he came inside there too. What do you think of your whore wife now?" I picked Jill up and carried her to the bed and dropped her on it. Then I pulled her panties off and quickly got out of my clothes. As I pushed my hard cock inside Jill's pussy I told her, "I love my beautiful wife and I will never do anything like this to you again." Then I kissed her deeply as I began stroking my cock in and out of Jill's cum filled hole. I was so hot. I started ramming in and out as fast as I could. I could tell Jill liked what I was doing by the little sounds she was making. Jill had an orgasm just before I let loose with my load inside her. Afterward, as we were lying next to each other resting, Jill said, "Actually, I would like to do this again." --------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 2 by SHATTIMS I was shocked. Trying to cover, I said, "You mean, us make love like we just did, or ...?" "No," she said very calmly, "I mean what we did last night." "I don't get it, I thought you were just trying to teach me a lesson." "I was, but I guess I learned a lesson myself. Being with John was very exciting. I really liked it." "And now you want to do it again?" She nodded, "But don't get me wrong. It's just the thrill of something different, something forbidden. You're the one I love, and always want to make love to. With John it was just sex." I spent some time trying to digest that and finally came out with, "I still can't believe you want to do it again." "Well, I do. But we don't have to if you and Nancy didn't, you know, ... didn't click together." "Oh, we clicked, all right," I grinned, "but it didn't feel exactly right to me." "You just have to think of it the way John and I did. We weren't making love, we were just making each other cum. So how did Nancy react to the whole thing?" "She really surprised me, like she just took it in stride." "So it sounds like we can do it again. Oh, I do hope so. Let's invite John and Nancy over for dinner next Saturday and see what happens." "Well, maybe," I said, a bit dubiously, "at least let's think about it." By now it was getting close to noon, and Jill and I both had a bunch of things we needed to do around the house before the weekend was over. My chores kept me busy in the yard and garage, while hers were inside the house, so we didn't see much of each other until dinner time. But right after we ate she started coming on to me. "I hope you don't mind," she said, "if I leave the dishes until later. Right now I've got something else on my mind." The way she started rubbing her breasts and crotch against me left no doubt as to what that "something else" might be. We didn't bother going upstairs this time. I dragged her to the living room sofa, and had her blouse unbuttoned in a flash. I started kissing and biting her bra as she unbuttoned my shirt. She quickly lost patience with the buttons, and simply ripped my shirt open, letting the buttons fly. She yanked it off me, and started kissing her way down my chest. Meanwhile her hands were working frantically at my belt, pants button, and zipper. I swear she must have had me stripped in five seconds flat. As soon as she had my cock exposed she started kissing and licking it, and once she had me out of my pants she shifted to sucking. Then she did the damnedest thing; she started growling. She was growling deep in her throat while still sucking on my cock. The sound was being transmitted directly into my rod, which seemed to be vibrating like it was a bass guitar string. I let out a bloodcurdling scream, and started humping into her mouth a mile a minute. She suddenly pulled away, leaving me humping the air, but I couldn't stop. She just lay back on the sofa, pulled her knees up to her chest, and shoved her pants down off her ass. Her panties went down at the same time, and I caught a glimpse of two purple, engorged, pussy lips, with her inner cunt lips poking out between them. It was only a brief glimpse, though, because my jerking rod headed straight there like a magnet. It plunged hard into that slimy hole, bottoming out in a single stroke. One shove was all it took, and I was cumming like a fire hose. She was screaming too, and I felt her cunt milking me for all it could get. I don't know how long that went on, but finally my heartbeat slowed and my brain re-engaged. I could feel the rough material of her jeans rubbing against my belly, and realized that she still had her clothes wrapped around her thighs. She even had her bra still on. I had never fucked her with her bra on! Sucking her tits has always been a part of our ritual, and something she always seemed to need to get ready for the big event. Not tonight, obviously! I opened my eyes and looked down at her face, still a mask of passion. But gradually I saw the muscles relax, and eventually she opened her eyes and looked up at me. "Oh, YEAH," she moaned, "that was something else." "You better believe it," I agreed, "I have NEVER come like that!" I saw a twisted sexy smile cross her face. "Think you might be up for seconds? I sure wouldn't mind another round." I started to say, 'no way,' but realized with a shock that I was still inside her, and apparently still fairly firm. I tried pumping a bit to check, and yep, I was definitely still all there. My tentative movements brought a much stronger reaction from her. "Oh, YES, oh, baby, DO it baby, DO it!" "Maybe I can, at that, but first let's get you properly undressed." I pulled out and she straightened her legs, allowing me to push her jeans and panties down and off. Then she raised her head and back enough to reach back and unhook her bra. I grabbed it and pulled it off her arms, tossing it on the floor with the rest of our clothes. She started massaging her breasts and whispered, "kiss me, please, kiss my tits." Now we were back on familiar lovemaking territory, and I was soon taking turns sucking them while my fingers played with her clit. Almost immediately she started humping wildly against my fingers, and making a wailing sound. Every so often she'd break off the wail and say in a shaky voice, "I want it, I want it, FUCK me, FUCK me, FUCK me!" I must say this had an amazingly rejuvenating effect on me, and before long my cock was so hard it was painful. Needless to say, the next time she repeated her plea she got what she wanted. Not that I came in one shove this time, even though she did. I knew it would take me a while, and I settled in for a long crescendo. She didn't seem to mind that, and in fact she came once again while I was working my way up. I stopped to let her recover, then started building again. It may have taken me ten or fifteen minutes altogether, but I did finally hit my peak again. It wasn't as mind blowing as the first time, but it was definitely satisfying. We settled down after that, and even watched TV for a while, but by nine o'clock we were pawing at each other again and Jill said she thought it was time to go upstairs. By the time we got to the top of the stairs I realized that I really stunk, and Jill had cum running down both of her legs from our earlier action, so we decided that showers were the first order of business. She insisted we shower together, and I had no objection to that idea. I watched her scrub her pussy, and that was enough to give me a new hardon. Her scrubbing turned into ramming three fingers up her cunt, and she leaned against the wall of the shower, moaning. "Kiss me, kiss my tits," she gasped, and the moans crescendoed into screeches as I complied. "Now fuck me with your fingers," she demanded, yanking her own fingers out of her cunt, grabbing my wrist, and pulling it where she needed it. A minute or so of that, combined with her own frantic pawing of her clit, was all it took to send her over the edge again. She shuddered violently for a while, then slid to the floor. "Honey, are you OK?" "Oh, yeah, that was a good one. Turn off the water, baby, let's get dried off and into the bed. I seem to remember we had something planned for when we got there." My plans were pretty indefinite, but it turned out she knew exactly what she wanted to do. She shoved me down on my back with my legs off the end of the bed, and climbed on top of me with the sort of roar I would imagine a starving lioness would make. She grabbed my cock, pointed it in the right direction, and slammed her pussy onto it. "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" she grunted, as she pounded against me. "AhhhHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed, and her pulsing cunt muscles told my cock she was doing it again. I wasn't quite there yet myself, but I was fucking close, and I was not going to be denied. While she was still shuddering, I rolled us over violently without losing the connection, and now it was my turn to start pounding. I have no idea how long that went on, but it couldn't have been very long until the dam burst and I was firing cum shot after cum shot after cum shot directly into her cervix. Well, I didn't actually realize where I was firing until it was pretty much over, at which point I could feel her little pucker deep inside nibbling on the tip of my cock. Yes, nibbling. I had never felt anything like that before, and it drove me to give her two more blasts after I thought I was completely drained. Then my arms gave out, and my weight crashed on her chest. After I finally got my breath back I managed to push myself up a bit, and panted, "WOW! You are one hot chick!" Jill giggled and said, "Would you believe I still feel horny? Do you see what kind of a whore wife you turned me into last night? Tell me, do you like me this way?" "Oh, god, YES!" "Then you'd better start making up your mind about next weekend. I may be able to keep going like this all week with you, but by Saturday I think I'm going to need John to recharge my batteries." Those words kept going over and over in my head as we fell asleep. Naturally that led to some really wild dreams. I was watching John fuck Jill; then John and I were both fucking Jill; then suddenly it was Nancy there that we were fucking. I woke up with a hard-on that wouldn't stop and I was pounding it against Jill's thigh. That woke her up, and she pulled me on top of her. No preliminaries this time, just hard sex as I started ramming into her. Actually, it was all still mixed up with my dream, and I was still dreaming that I was fucking Nancy. The thought of that made me so hot that I started cumming almost immediately. That really woke me up and I realized what I'd done. "Sorry, hon," I mumbled, "I was half asleep and having a wild dream, and I didn't realize what I was doing." "It's OK," she reassured me, "I was really enjoying it, but I didn't get there as fast as you did. Do you suppose you could help me go the rest of the way?" "Of course, babe, I owe you that. What would you like me to do?" "Just use your fingers down here," she plead, pulling my hand to her slimy pussy. What a relief. I was afraid she was going to ask me to eat her out, and I think I would have gagged. Not that I have any qualms in general about oral sex, in fact I usually love to do it, but that's before we fuck, not after, if you get my drift. Well anyway, she started pumping her pelvis up and down as I slid two fingers back and forth in her slit. When I moved my thumb up and tapped the side of her clit she jerked and grunted, so I repeated that several times, getting a big reaction each time. I decided to try grabbing it between my thumb and middle finger, and that set her to wailing. "Enough! Enough!" she finally sobbed, "shove your fingers up my cunt." That had her jerking and moaning and clawing at my back. After a bit she managed to get out, "Oh, YES! Oh, YES! MORE! MORE! Another finger, PLEASE!" She was totally out of control by now, and I could barely understand her words as she screamed, "MORE!! MORE!! ANOTHER!! ANOTHER!!" I was now pumping three fingers as deeply as I could into her fuck hole and she seemed to be in a continual state of climax. Finally, in a guttural voice, she uttered the three words I will never forget, "YEEESSS, JOHN, NOWWW!!!" Shocked, I stopped moving my fingers, leaving them shoved deeply up inside her. I could feel her clenching them over and over again. I swear that must have gone on for several minutes, her body rigid but her cunt convulsing like it would never stop. Finally she heaved a great sigh and her body went limp. As I pulled my fingers out I wondered what I should say. I didn't have to think about it long. Guiltily I remembered what I had been thinking about when I came so fast inside her. Obviously I couldn't say anything. Neither of us said a word. We just kissed and went back to sleep. By morning I had a hard-on again, and she was obviously horny, too. It was Monday, and we were usually rushing too much for sex, but this time I decided "what the hell, I can be late once." I took my time and made sure it was as good for her as it was for me. And it was good, but in a "making love" kind of way, not like a "raw sex" experience. It was only when it was all over and we were lying together still joined that her words came back to me: "YEEESSS, JOHN, NOWWW!!!" At that point I pulled out of her, gave her a perfunctory kiss, and got up. I kept wondering which of her two lovers she had been thinking about when she came that morning. That evening on the way home from the office I realized that Jill and I had fucked six times in a period of less than 24 hours. The last time we did that was on our honeymoon. It gave me a whole new perspective on last Saturday night. I wondered what the evening would bring. What it brought was even steamier than the day before. Jill met me at the door wearing a robe. The instant I had pushed the door closed behind me she opened the robe and let it slip to the floor. She was standing there in front of me totally naked, but not for long. She dropped to her knees and started tearing at my belt and pants. She had dropped my trousers and shorts to the floor in three seconds flat. Believe it or not I was already at half mast and climbing fast. She grabbed my pecker with both hands and started sucking it greedily. Her breasts were slapping against my thighs and I don't know how she did it, but she managed to pull one of my legs forward between her thighs. In seconds she was pounding her steaming twat against my shin. Suddenly she pulled her mouth away from my cock, wrapped her arms around my waist, and jerked backward. We both lost our balance and landed on the floor with me on top. "Fuck me! FUCK me!! FUCK ME!!!" she screamed. I was already searching for the hole, and it didn't take long to find. I rammed into her, just once, and she was gone. I could feel her cunt doing its damnedest to milk my cream. I wasn't there myself yet, so I just kept it shoved deep inside her while her orgasm played out. Once she had calmed down a bit I decided it was my turn, and I started pounding into her. I don't think I had ever been so horny before, and I wasn't the only one. It didn't take me long to cum, but she hit her second climax at just about the time I hit mine. When I got my breath back I said, "Jill, baby, that was fantastic! I sure hope you've fixed a good dinner for me, because I've got a feeling I may need all the energy I can get to make it through the evening." "I've got a feeling you're right, she agreed, "and don't forget that after the evening is over you've still got the night ahead of you." I groaned at that, and started pumping into her again. But my iron rod had turned into a soft rubber hose, and it popped out almost immediately. "Hey, I didn't expect you to be Superman," she laughed, "let's get some nourishment into you and then see what you can do." Frankly, I think I turned in a fairly decent Superman imitation that night. We fucked right after dinner, and she came twice before I hit my climax. Then we watched the news and a couple of sitcoms, except that she was sucking me hard during most of the second one instead of watching. This time she came three times, right there on the couch, and when it was over I told her I thought I was done in for the night. "Like hell you are," she informed me, and proceeded to prove it when we got into bed. Oh, MAN, could that woman fuck. And to think we'd been married five years and I had no idea. I started drifted off with a blissful smile on my face. Just as I was almost asleep, Jill sat up in bed. "Oh, god, it's only Monday. That means it's still ...," I could hear her going through the days of the week under her breath, "FIVE DAYS until Saturday. I don't see how I can possibly wait that long to be with John again." "Don't worry, babe," I managed to mumble, "I'll do my damnedest to keep you satisfied." She woke me in the middle of the night, pumping my cock with her hand and pounding her pussy against my leg. I started to roll over onto her, but she stopped me. "Take me from behind," she whispered, getting to her knees with her ass in the air. She'd already gotten my cock hard, so I climbed on her back, found her juicy cunt, and plowed in. After we'd fucked that way for a couple of minutes, she said, "now pull it out and shove it up my ass." "WHAT?" I said horrified. I'd never done that before, not with her, not with anybody. "Do it, please, I need it so bad." "I don't know if I can." "Yes you can, just DO it, damn it!" So I did it, and it was tight, but it went in. I had no sooner gotten it in than she sobbed, "Oh god, yes! Yes! YES! YES! YES, YES, YES, YES-YES-YES YE-YE-YEEEEEEESSSSSSS!!!" I hadn't come, but she seemed to be satisfied and was falling asleep. So I pulled out of her, slipped out of the bed, and went to the bathroom to clean myself up. I wasn't a bit surprised when she woke me in the morning demanding more sex. This time she sucked me for a minute or two to stiffen up my usual morning hard-on. then she climbed on top of me, straddling my crotch, and rubbed the side of my cock up and down her well-greased slit. But it wasn't long before she reached down, positioned me, and sank down onto my shaft with a long sigh. The sigh turned into a series of little sobs as she started jerking back and forth on top of me. The sobs turned into desperate cries. "I want it. I want it. "I need it. I need it. "I HAVE to HAVE it. I HAVE to. "OH GOD! I CAN'T STAND IT! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! "GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING CUM! GIVE IT TO ME ... EVERYWHERE!" At that she screeched and fell on top of me, clawing my back and arms. Man! that must have been one major cum for her, even though she hadn't given me time to get there myself. As she finally calmed down I realized she was crying. "What's wrong, Jill, what's wrong?" "N..n..nothing. It's just all so good. And to think I'll be alone all day. I can't wait for tonight." "So, how about if I do some more right now, something more you'll have to remember me by, and a promise for tonight." "Oh, yes. Please!" I was quite late leaving for the office, but totally satisfied. On my way home from work that night I nearly came in my pants just thinking about what was going to greet me when I opened the door. But when I did open it ... nothing. Jill was nowhere in sight. I thought she might be waiting for me upstairs in the bedroom, but she wasn't. Nor was she in the bathroom, getting ready for me. I was puzzled, but more than that, I was terribly let down. I had become so addicted to the last two days of wild sex that I couldn't bear the thought of her not being there. I finally went down to the kitchen to get a beer, and saw the note. 'I won't be home til very late tonight. Fix yourself a TV dinner.' I stared at the note for a long time, trying to understand what it meant, until finally a horrible suspicion began to creep into my thoughts. Once I had allowed the suspicion in, my brain helpfully reminded me of her words last night: "I don't see how I can possibly wait that long to be with John again." And this morning: "I'll be alone all day. I can't wait for tonight." I had to know the truth, and I called John's house. 'Please let him be there,' I thought as the phone rang. But it was Nancy who answered. "Oh, hi, Nancy," I said, trying to sound natural, "could I speak to John?" "I'm sorry, but he's not here. He called from the office and said he wouldn't be home until very late." The weight in the pit of my stomach got much larger and harder, and I felt like I was about to cry. "Oh, no, Nancy! We have a problem." "What kind of a problem? Where's Jill?" "She left a note," I said ominously, "saying she wouldn't be home until very late." I waited out the long silence that followed. Finally she said, "Well, most problems have solutions, and I think I have a very interesting solution for this problem." There was another brief pause before she added, "So, ... your place or mine?"

Tessa the Toiler, Chapter 7 (M+F+, multi, orgy, con, oral, anal) By Paco Svengali Released 05/10/2006 Updated 08/27/2007: format, chapter heading added Updated 08/13/2010: codes Chapter 7 Take All of Me You what? exclaimed Tessa. Look, I didnt exactly promise that youd be there, but with $5,000 bucks a piece riding on it, I figured that youd have a hard time turning it down. The other speaker was Tally, one of Tessas long time friend and a co-worker in the trade. I mean, come on Tessa, when was the last time you made five grand in one night? Okay, so were going to have to really work for it, but so what? We can take the next night off to recover and still be ahead. Come on Tessa, think about it, will you? Tally was on the phone with Tessa. The two girls had worked gigs together before and now Tally was proposing that she and Tessa work a stag party together. She had been contacted by an old friend of hers who wanted Tally to find a second girl, and the two of them become the center piece for the stag party to be held this evening. Both Tessa and Tally were exceptionally beautiful women, in high demand and very successful in the trade. Because of this, the two hookers were selective with their Johns and rarely allowed themselves to get into situations that Tally was now proposing. They were both 5 4 and had fabulous figures with a pair of tits that made many a man wonder. The biggest difference between the two was the fact that while Tessa was a blue eyed blonde, Tally was a simmering brunette with dark eyes. When the two of them were side by side, people marveled when they saw these two beautiful, contrasting women. Tessa knew that Tally was right. To make a grand for an evening was good, but to do five thousand was fantastic. The only thing was that Tessa knew that they would earn it. Stag parties tended to get out of hand and the girls became nothing fuck holes, to be beaten on and abused. Look, dont worry, Tally continued, Del told me that some of the guys were bringing their wives and girlfriends, if you can believe it. Why any woman would want to come with her boyfriend to a stag is beyond me, let alone why any guy would bring his wife. The main thing is that we wont be the only babes there. There will be enough pussy to go around, or at least I hope there will be. Okay Talley, Ill do it, but if things get too far out of hand, Im out of there. Look its up to you. I just thought that I should give you the first crack at it. Hell, there are other sluts that would jump at it for the money. Tessa, in or out, its okay with me. Pausing to think, Tessa answered, No, youre right. Its quick money, and its not like Ive never done stags before, though Christ all mighty, I swore that after the last time Id never do it again. Okay, now that I sold my ass down the drain, give me the specifics. How is it set up for tonight? This is how its going to work. Dressed in nice summery mini shirts and form fitting tops that revealed their excellent figures, Tessa and Talley knocked at the door of the cabin. The cabin was conveniently located far outside of Chicago, just over the Wisconsin state line. Set off by itself, the setting provided privacy that would allow for any kind of activities that would normally cause problems if located near other homes. The door was opened by Del who was the guy that knew Talley and was responsible for setting up this evenings stag party. Come on, girls. Theres more coming, but some of us just couldnt wait and have already started, he said as he stepped back to allow the two women entrance. As Tessa and Talley entered the main room of the cabin, they immediately understood what Del was referring to. Standing around the sofa was a couple who turned to greet the two girls. On the sofa was another couple. This is Jack and Marie. Guys, this is Talley and her friend, Tessa. Since I saw that you girls were out numbered, I called these to in for support, Del said, indicating Tessa and Talley. Thats Rich and my wife, Carol, he continued as he nodded his head at the couple entwined with each other in a large couch. The couple were kissing and groping each other, oblivious to those around them. Rich had his hand in Carols blouse and was caressing her tits while she rubbed the budge in his pants. "So you guys going to fuck right here in front of us, or what?" chuckled Del as he shook his head that the two. Carol looked up at her husband and smiled while unzipping Rich's pants. "Yes, we do plan to fuck. Do you mind? "Not at all. We love to watch, don't we, guys?" retorted Del. Carol pulled Richs cock from his pants and stroked it a few times. Quickly a pearl of moisture formed on the tip of his cock as she continued to milk it. Then Carol leaned over and sucked it into her mouth, burying her nose into his cock hair. She was giving him a fabulous blow job, sucking down her throat as she bobbed her head up and down his length. Carol sat up and quickly slipped off her shorts and panties. Looking down at Rich, she huskily said, Just hang on, Rich. Youre in for a ride. Your cock is all mine and so is all the cum I can pump out of it. Shit, baby, whos stopping you? Rich grunted up at Carol while he stroked his prick as he watched her remove all her clothes. Carol climbed up on the couch. She straddled his lap, knees on each side of him, and taking his cock in her hand, she guided it into her pussy as she lowered her ass, shoving his cock into her steaming cunt. Reaching to the back of the couch for stability, Carol started to fuck Rich with the same intensity which she had when she sucked him off. Her ass was lifting up and slamming down as she impaled herself on his engorged cock. Rich reached around the humping woman and dug his fingers into the cheeks of her ass, guiding her and controlling the pace. Leaning forward slightly, he let one of his fingers slip between the crack of her ass in search of her asshole. Finding it, he massaged the opening, but never penetrated her. Everyone watched transfixed as Richs prick disappeared into Carol. They could see her cunt lips suck on his cock as she came up off of it. Their juices were coating his prick, foaming white as she rode up and down on him. Grabbing her by the hips again, Rich rolled Carol over onto her back. He climbed on tip of the withering woman and proceeded to pound into her hard and fact. Carol was squealing like crazy at his efforts. Her legs were pinned to her chest, flattening her tits. She was jerking her head back and forth, her eyes glazed over in ecstasy. Tessa looked over at Talley. She couldnt believe what was going on. This wasnt a stag party, this was an orgy that needed a few more girls! Christ, she and Talley hadnt even gotten all the way into the cabin, and here they were watching some guys wife being fucked by some other guy. Jesus, thought Tessa, when this heats up, what the hell was she and Tessa expected to do? Her question was quickly answered. Go ahead, Talley. Get in there. Help those two out, said Del as he broke the concentration of Tessa and Talley as they stood watching the couple on the sofa. Get them going. You know your business. See how far you can push those two. Looking at Del, then at Tessa, Talley stepped over to the fucking couple. Give it to her, Rich. Fuck the bitch, fuck the living shit out of the slut, she chanted to the withering couple. Shove that big cock up her. Hey bitch, tell him how much you love it. Tell him to shove it deep into your belly. Hell, this is what she was here for, wasnt it? Talley put a hand between Richs thighs and grasped Carols pussy, letting Richs cock slide up and down her hand. When her hand was good and moist, Talley rubbed her middle finger over Carols asshole, lubricating it. When it was nicely oiled, Talley bent her arm down and slipped a finger inside of Carols asshole. Come on, Rich, fuck the bitch in the ass. Let me help you, encouraged Talley as she worked her finger in and out of Carols rear. Bending further down, she spit on the withering womans asshole to lubricate it, then grabbed Richs cock and guided the slimy pole to her sphincter. Carol was back on her shoulders with her ass in the air when Rich started to feed his cock into her ass. At first he met resistance, then with almost a pop, his prick slipped passed the entrance to her rectum and he then proceeded to work his engorged shaft deeper into her bowels. When he was all the way in, he started fucking her hard and fast. With her mission accomplished, Talley started to rub her hand over Carol's pussy and clit, making Carol scream with a mixture of pleasure and pain. Her whole body was responding to the cock pounding her ass and the fingers working over her clit. Suddenly Rich let out a loud roar as his body went rigid and he started pumping cum deep into Carol's bowels. Carol responded to the cum entering her ass by hitting her own orgasm. She gave a scream and her whole body started to quiver as she was racked by spasm after spasm slamming through her as Talley kept up the continual assault on her clit. Just as the two fuckers started to run down, there was a ringing of the door bell. Going over to it, Del opened it. Come in, folks. It seems that the party has already started, he said to the two couples standing in the doorway. Turning to the rest of the group Del announced, This is Steve and his wife, Diane. The other two are Kevin and Jody. Turning back to the four, he said, The knock out blond is Tessa and the ravishing brunette is Talley. And you know the rest, I believe. Thats Jack and Marie, but youve met before, and you know the two scumbags on the couch who couldnt wait and had to fuck each other. Looking at the gather group, Steve said, Kevin and Jody are friends of ours. They know what this is all about, though Jody was a little nervous over the whole thing. So do me a favor, take it easy on her. Blushing a little, Jody said, Oh come on, Steve, Ill be alright. Just dont what to overwhelm you. Turning back to the rest of the group, Steve made like he was sniffing the air. "I smell sex. Have you guys been practicing without me?" Chuckling, Del responded, "Rich and Carol couldn't keep their hands off each other. He fucked her right there in front of us. It was very rude." Again there was a knock on the door. This time, no one waited for Del to answer. The door was immediately opened to admit a woman. Del quickly introduced the new arrival as Donna who was none other than Richs wife. She was a pretty petit redhead with a figure that made minds wonder. She was wearing a pair of short shorts and a blouse without a bra underneath. That was apparent by her protruding nipples. Looking over at her husband, Donna chuckled and said, Let me guess. Those two have been at each other already. Am I right? You know that I always liked that cock on your husband, said Carol as she stood up. Shit, the boy does know how to do a girl. Yeah, I know, responded Richs wife as she smiled at Carol. Donna didnt care if Rich fucked every pussy in the house. She knew that she was gong to try to do the same for all the men in the place. Hey, I couldnt disappoint the girl, could I? This came from Rich. He had his clothes on and was looking at her innocently. Jag off, was the only comment that Donna returned to that shot. Turning to Tessa and Talley, she commented, Thank god for you two. These fuckers are already half hard and looking for some good pussy. Smiling at Del, Talley said, The man knows his way to this girls heart, thats all Ive got to say. She was thinking of the wad of bills that would be in her purse by dawn tomorrow morning. The group stood around, letting the excitement slowly build up. Two more couples joined the gathering, Chuck and Marge along with Dave and Gretchen. In each case, the women looked like they were ready to get rammed by as many men as they could while their husbands kept leering at Tessa and Talley. Talley looked over at Tessa and gave her a wink. Both knew that they were going to be well used before this night was over. What do they say, rode hard and put down wet? Yep, they were going to be sore come morning. Steve looked at the two girls. These two are open game, right? as he walked around Tessa and Talley. You want it, its yours. Shit, you just fucked my own wife, and youre sniffing for more. Christ, man, I dont believe you, said Del as he looked over at the two whores. You can have them, but you got to show us how. You cant just go off in a corner and fuck them. I dont get it. What do you mean? Stepping over to the wall, Del turn on a spot light in the center of the ceiling while dimming the rest of the lights. I rigged this up so that we could get a good look at a starring couple. Come on, Steve, grab a hank of hair and make her smile. Knowing that his cock was already stirring in his pants, Steve reached over and grabbed Talleys hand. Come on here, honey, he said as he pulled the willing woman into the spotlight. Lets show these assholes what we can do. Leaning down, Steve locked his lips onto the waiting Talley. She returned his kiss, enjoying the fact that the man was willing to take his time and not just jump into her pants. Everyone watched as they opened their lips let their tongues touch. Then Steve began to suck on Talleys tongue as she held it out to him. Laughing, Talley did the same for him. All the time Steve held the whore close to him, letting his hands work down her back until they covered her buttocks. Holding them, Steve began to hump his groin into her crotch as if they were fucking. The crowd started to call out to them in encouragement. "That's it Steve, go to it," someone called out. "Come on Talley, suck his tongue," one of the wives said. Steve let go of Talleys ass. Reaching down, he pulled her skirt up until her panties were exposed. Talley wore thongs that ran through the crack of her ass and left her buttocks visible for the whole world to admire and desire. Grabbing her ass, Steve gave it a hard squeeze as he pulled Talley against his groin without breaking away from their tongue sucking. Now reaching up to the waist band, he pushed her thongs down her thighs until they dropped to the floor. Steve and Talley continued kissing, their bodies heating up, grinding together and projecting a sexual tension to the entire room. Soon every couple in the room was kissing and moaning. Hands went up dresses and fingers went into panties. There were five rock hard cocks tenting pants. Letting her mini skirt drop back down, Talley slid to her knees and began to rub her hands on the front of Steves pants as he worked up to a giant hard on. She squeezed the bulge, outlining his stiff pole for the crowd to admire. Her hand stroked the encased cock lovingly and soon the front of Steves pants began to show a stain where his prick leaked pre cum. Steve moaned and pushed his hips forward, enjoying the sensation as Talley worked away at him. Letting go of him, she reached up and pulled his zipper down. The room became silent in anticipation as the Talley reached into Steves pant and struggle to pull his long, hard cock from its hiding place. When it popped free, everyone grasped. It was huge, only semi hard and hung down like a fat sausage. Go ahead Talley, suck on it. This came from one of the woman in the audience. With a moan, Talley wrapped her fingers around it as far as she could. She held it up for the group to see, then brought it to her lips. The room was silent, everyone waiting to see if she could get her lips around the monster. They all watched as she sucked the large head, holding the shaft in her hand. Looking down at the kneeling slut, Steve watched her suck on the head of his cock as she stroked the shaft. Go on, baby, suck on it, he moaned. Reaching down, he grabbed Talleys head and began pumping his hips into her face. Off to the side, Del stood along side of Tessa. He could hear her breath become excited as she watched her friend suck off the huge cock. He could feel the heat of her body as he pressed his tight against hers. He slowly reached over and placed a hand on her thigh, then began to slowly rub up and down on it. The only response Tessa could make was to groan. In the center of the room, Steves excitement was growing as he worked his hips, driving his cock faster and faster into her mouth. He held her blond hair in his hands, enjoying every moment of the blowjob that the whore was giving him. As he pulled back, his rod glistened with Talleys saliva. Groaning with excitement, Steve didnt know if he could hold back any further. Just as he thought that he was about to explode in Talleys mouth, she pulled away. Talley looked up at him with a wide smile. Holding his cock as she sucked on it, she turned her head from side to side, making sure that the whole room enjoyed the sight of her lips around Steves prick. Finally she stood up and put her hands on Steves shoulders. You ready with that fucking pole of yours? she asked. Anytime, bitch, he responded. Holding him by the shoulders, Talley pulled her self up and wrapped her legs around Steves waist, hugging his neck with her arms. Her mini pulled up around her waist, revealing her naked ass. Del hand slipped under Tessas skirt and gradually worked its way higher until it reached her cunt. At first he was caught off guard when he realized that the bitch wasnt wearing panties. As an involuntary moan escaped his lips, his fingers moved between her legs and found Tessas swollen sex lips. He thought he might cum in his pants when she eased her legs apart, giving him access to her dripping hole. In the center of the room, Steve reached down and grabbed his cock while reaching around Talley with his other hand. Holding her in the small of her back, he guided the purple head of his cock toward her cunt. Everyone in the room held their breath as they saw him place it against her dripping lips. With a lurch of his hips, he began to spread her with his meat. The watchers moaned as the swollen head began to stretch Talley wider and wider until, with and audible gasp from the room, it slipped passed the resisting lips and passed into Talleys drooling love tunnel. Oh shit, she whimpered as she felt Steves cock begin to slide into her body. It felt special this time because she could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on them. She knew that every man was going crazy watching her husband as he fucked her and every woman was dreaming that Steve was fucking them. Del felt Tessa push her hips shiver. She reached down and put her hand over his. Guiding him, Tessa forced his finger between her lips and into her cunt. Still holding his hand, she began to fuck herself on his finger as it pressed deep into her body. He could feel ever inch of swollen flesh inside her vagina. He moved his finger around, touching every spot he could reach. Her warm juice coated his finger and ran down his hand. Talley began to move up and down, slowly increasing her speed as Steves pole buried itself deep inside of his wifes cunt as he guided her with his hands on her ass cheeks. White foam streaked Steves penis as he worked their juices into a lather. Suddenly, Steve emitted a loud bellow. Everyone saw Steves knees buckle as his cock apparently unleashed a torrent of cum into Talleys twat. His neck muscles strained as he slammed her down onto him, burying his cock to her as deep as it could go. Talley responded with a groan as she too was overwhelmed with her own climax. She felt her lovers cock expand and jerk within her cunt as he sprayed into her womb time after time. Her tunnel began to fill quickly and soon his thick juices began to leak out of her and run down his balls. As they came off their high, Steve and Talley realized that no one said anything about their performance. Then looking around the room, they realized why. Piled around them, the rest of the couples were either already naked or in the process of becoming naked. The gathering had degenerated info a free for all orgy. It seemed that several other men had arrived, and now some of the females present had to do double duty. Over to the side, Tessa and Del had removed all their clothes and stood facing each other bare assed. Tessa pushed him down onto the many pillows that were strewn around the room. Looking up, he loved the sight of her naked body hovering over him, the lust in her eyes adding to the wildness of the evening. "Fuck me Del! Fuck me!" With no more than that, Tessa sat down on his prick. Del felt it slice upwards into that silken pussy-passage nearly robbing him of his senses as it did. He grasped her by the hips, and pounded his cock into her as fast as he could, feeling the silk lining of her pussy engulf his cock. Hey, that looks good. Looking up, Del found Talley standing over them. Looking from one woman to another, Del knew that he had picked right. While the coloration of the two were slightly different, one blonde the other brunette, both had magnificent bodies. Their tits were firm and full with ripe nipples crowning them. Their waists were slim and their asses made for grabbing. Yes, the guys really owed him one for finding these two. Still covered with a sheen of perspiration from fucking Steve, her thighs smeared with his cum, Talley wasnt wasting any time as she knelt down facing Tessa and straddle Dels head. Looking up, he was greeted with her full, ripe cunt lips. Eat me, Del. Suck on me, she said as she squatted down on his face, offering her pussy to his lips. Taking his hand from around Tessa, Del pulled Talleys hips further down and began to eat her cum filled pussy. While it tasted slightly salty, her reaction to his tongue made it worth his effort. Oh shit, oh shit. Eat me, Del, Talley whined as she reached over to Tessa and held onto her for support. Vaguely aware of the much activity taking place all around him as his cock rode in and out of Tessa, he saw Rich out of the corner of his eye as he carried his enormous erection over towards them. "Bring that monster over here!" Tessa ordered him. "I want to lick that fucking thing!" "Me too!" Talley said as she ogled the enormous prick swaying back and forth between Richs legs. Coming up to the threesome, Rich offered his cock to the two panting women. Not rejecting the offering, Tessa and Talley both began licking and caressing Rich's monster penis while Del slowly and easily slid in and out of Tessas twat while he ate out Talley. Coming up for a moment from between Talleys thighs, Del looked around the room and smiled. Off to one side, he was pleased to see Jack enjoying a good fuck with Carol. She was thrown over the back of an arm chair, her ass sticking out. Behind her, Jack beat his meat into her. Smiling to himself, Del enjoyed the sight of his wifes magnificent orbs gently swaying to and fro beneath her as Jack pummeled her pussy from behind. Donna was down on her hands and knees, getting it from both ends. Del smiled again. Her mouth latched onto Dave's prick, sucking it wildly, as Chuck mounted her from behind. Old friends of his, the two men had apparently come in without Del knowing it. That meant that their beautiful wives, Marge and Gretchen, were around here somewhere. The moans and groans that were coming from the threesome filled the air with sounds that punctuated the intensity of what they were experiencing. Looking over in the other direction, Del saw Kevin had joined Diane along with Steve. She was down on her knees doing her level best at the moment to suck both men off simultaneously. He watched her as she attempted to insert both pricks inside her mouth was amazing. However, even more amazing was the sight when both men exploded. Their pricks jerked simultaneously and they began spurting loads of cum into the waiting womans open mouth. Diane didnt flinch. Instead, she beat each mans shooting pricks as they began pumping her mouth full of their combined jism. So copious was their pumping pricks that it was far too much for her to handle. Diane allowed the sticky substance to roll from her mouth and down her chin where it dropped frothy white onto her breasts. Christ, thought Del, this is going to be one of those good nights that you talk about for years to come. Rich had been watching the same things that Del was. The sight of the withering couples around him triggered his own orgasm. Grabbing his cock in one hand, he put the other on Tessas head to keep her still. Then with a groan that was more like a cry, his ass cheek clenched as his balls bounced, and the first load of cum erupted out of the tip of his prick. Unlike Del and Kevin, Rich wasnt so picky about his target. His exploding cock spewed cum across Tessas face, onto her cheeks and chin, into her closed eyes, reaching up into her hair. Talley, seeing Tessas face covered with Richs jism and reacting to Dels continued eating of her pussy, went into convulsions herself. "Oh shit! I'm going to cum soon too. And it's going to be a hard one!" she announced. Still on the floor with Tessa riding his cock while he continued to eat out Talleys drenched pussy, Del grabbed her hips and began to devour Talleys hard knot of feminine pleasure protruding down from her succulent lips. Swollen and glistening with her juices, he drew that sweet nubbin of flesh between his lips, sucking it. As he did, Talley cried out in pleasure, her ass jumping in response to his lips. Del heard the sudden intake of pleasured breath as Talley allowed herself to begin the orgasmic tumble towards bliss as his tongue ravished her hot throbbing clit. "Faster! Faster! Oh fuck yes Del! Right there...right fucking there!" Del knew that Talley was about to cum like she never came before. Her cunt was oozing both her own juices, the load of cum that Steve had pumped into her and Dels own saliva. When she came Del knew that it was going to be a gusher. Taking his middle finger, he slipped it up into her pussy and coated with the mix of fluids. Drawing it back out of her, Del placed it against the opening of her ass. Feeling the tip slide passed her sphincter, he shoved it into her asshole as far as he could. Now he had his tongue shoved into her twat while his finger worked her ass. Oh Christ, Im cumming, Talley screamed. Her whole body tensed, her head was thrown back and her mouth hung open while a deep slow rolling groan of pure pleasure escaped from her lips as she cried out in ecstasy. With a final seizure, Talleys cunt erupted with a load of juices that dropped down onto Dels face. Opening his mouth, he accepted the load that came pumping out of Talleys pussy, quickly followed by another. With one final groan, Talley rolled backward, over Dels head, and ended lying on her back with her legs spread wide open for all to see. The female cum seeped from her cunt as she continued to thrash on the floor. "Suck my fucking pussy!" she cried. "Somebody...please, suck my fucking cunt!" Elbowing the gathering group out of the way, it was Tessa that wanted to do the honors. Coming up off of Dels dick, her face smeared with Richs cum, she quickly knelt between her friends spread thighs and locked her lips on Talley clit and drove her tongue into the still pumping love channel. Looking up, Talley was greeted by the sight of the newcomer, Dave, standing over her. By the look on his face as he stood above her and furiously stroked his cock, she knew that he was about to explode. His cock was one of those skinny long ones that went up into a womans cervix when he had it fully shoved up her tunnel. Looking up at him with crazed eyes, Talley said, Go ahead baby, let that thing shoot. Come on, let it go. Just hearing what Talley coax him to do produced an immediate result. Clenching his ass together, Daves prick erupted with several slimy ropes of cum that arched out over her body and covered her tits, chest and stomach with his love juices. Nudging him out of the way, Chuck stood over her and stroked his cock with the intent of adding his load to Daves. Chucks enormous prick was thick veined and swollen as he stood over her a pummeled it with his hand. It was uncircumcised and looking purple as hell. "Oh yeah! Oh fuck yeah! Cum all over me, Jack!" Talley squealed delightedly. "Come on you fuckers, shoot your jism all over my body! Squirt that fuck-juice on my tits, my pussy and my face!" Talley knew that she was going to one hell of a mess by the time this was all over, but she also knew that if she and Tessa worked it right, besides the five grand that Del had agreed to, there world be one damn big tip thrown in for good measure. Chuck didnt disappoint her. Arching his hips forward, gob after gob spewed out of his hose. Rope after rope of slimy cum gushered out of his balls and through his prick, splattering on Talleys stomach. Now all the men moved over to stand around the withering whore who was already coated with several loads of cum. They stood around her and beat their cocks, pointing there rigid dicks at her as she lay there encouraging them to shower her with a cum bath. Even some of the other women had gotten involved. Donna knelt down in front of her husband and began to stroke is cock. Rich had just creamed Talleys face, but his cock was not down and out. With Donnas massaging, it quickly regained its former stiffness. Pushing Tessa out of the way, Jody stroked Kevins cock while aiming it at Talley pussy. Go ahead, Kev, shoot it on her cunt. Go ahead, drop the load on the bitchs pussy, she muttered as she stared transfixed in anticipation of the coming event. Kevin did as he was told. With a sudden jerk, his cock again spurted and a load of cum shot from the tip of his prick. It draped up to Talleys navel, streaking down her stomach to her drooling pussy. Then Steve soon stepped up over Talley. As Diane's hand beat his meat, he took delight in aiming it directly at Talley's tits, the one area not covered with slim. From the actions of the men before him, he was rock hard, his balls turning blue from the excitement. With a groan, Steve sent his load arcing through the air, adding to the cum already covering Tessa. Rolling over onto his knees, Del smiled. His face was still covered with the load of slime and cum that Talley had dumped on him when he ate her out. Coming to his knees, his face covered with the load that Tessa had dumped on him before, Del smiled. Now it was his turn to return the favor to Tessa. He moved closer to her head. Looking at him as he came up over her head, Tessa quickly reached out and grabbed his cock. Crazed with lust, she wrapped her lips around it, sucking it furiously, making his knees wobbly. Knowing it was his turn, Jack came up to Talley as she sucked away on Dels cock. All this time he had watched man after man squirt gob after gob of cum on Talley. Now it took all his will power to hold back. Watching him with his struggle, Tessa came up behind him. Reaching a hand between his legs, she cupped Jacks balls in her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. That was all it took. With a wailing groan, Jacks prick erupted in a stream of cum that added to the continuing mess covering Talley. Rope after rope of cum shot from the purple head of his cock. He leaned over her tits as his prick disgorged thick copious amount of sperm that literally made her nipples disappear beneath the blanket of white thick jism that he poured over each of her aroused tits. Talley continued sucking on Dels cock as Jack added again to the mess covering her. The cum puddle in her navel. Some of it ran down her sides. Still she continued sucking Dels cock as Tessa let go of Jacks withering cock and moved behind Del. Just as she did with Jack, she began to massage Dels balls. This time, she added something new. Reaching further under him, she let some of Talleys saliva cover her finger. Moving back, she slipped a finger between Dels ass checks. Del could hold back no longer. He felt cum boiling in his balls as Talleys mouth began to take its toll on his control. Im going to cum, he warned between his teeth. Then, his cock swelling and his balls riding up in their sack, the first load of cum left the tip of his cock, and he began to fill her mouth with his spunk. He shot wad after wad into her waiting mouth as she kept stroking his pole, trying to get every last drop from him, but not swallowing. Drained, Del gave a final squeeze and let the last of his cum seeping into Talleys mouth. Exhaling, he collapsed next to Talley and panted to regain his breath. Knowing that she must have been a sight, Talley sat up and looked around. As everyone held their breath, she opened her mouth and let Dels saved up cum pour out and drool down her chin, falling on her breasts and stomach, adding to the ever growing layer of white sticky cream that coated most of her entire body. All this time, Rich stood just off to the side letting Donna whack his cock off. With a squeal from both husband and wife, Rich unleashed his spunk. Even though he had already fucked Carol and dumped a wad down Tessas throat, he still stunned everyone by blowing off better than any man before him. His ass tightening, his cock erupted. As Donna continued jacking him off, Rich pumped streamer after streamer of fuck juice all over Talley's already glistening form. Spurt after spurt left his cock, arched out over the waiting whore, and splattered on her already soggy torso. "Holy fucking shit!" Del complimented, watching Rich's prick continue to shoot. "Man, and I thought I came a lot!" he added appreciatively. Talley was actually holding out her hands catching whatever traces of his cream didn't land on her directly. She then massaged what she did catch onto her legs, stomach and breasts, though they already were coated with more cream than anyone could imagine. She was covered with cum. It was smeared across her tits, her stomach and oozed down her crotch and pussy. Some of it was streaked across her face and hair, while other wads covered her thighs. Knowing that this would really set everyone one off, Tessa stepped over to Talley. Placing her body over Talley's, Tessa began sliding herself back and forth as well as side to side against her body. The whole room stood stunned as the slim blonde worked herself against the brunette beneath her. There was so much cum-butter oozing between them as they thrashed against one another on the floor that it began making sucking sounds as they played and squished against one another crazily. Slowly the two whores came to a rest. Looking down at her, Tessa opened her mouth and kissed her friend on the lips, their tongues playing with one another. The kiss was strictly between the two of them event though the room was filled with couples watching them. Shit. Look at those two sluts, chimed Carol as she looked at Tessa and Talley withered against each other on the floor. Those two love getting gang banged. Come, Tessa, said Chuck as he stood over the pair. His cock was back up again, and this time he wanted to feel a pussy wrapped around it. Looking at Tessas sweet ass, he knew who he wanted to perform the honors. Looking over Tessas shoulder, Talley smiled at him. You looking to do some damage to my sister here? You like what you see? Yeah, I like what I see and Im not the only one. Come on, you two. Del said that you two could outlast a whole fucking army. Lets find out. Coming to her feet, Tessa looked at Chuck, then down at his prick. The sight wasnt bad. With his huge uncircumcised pole, she knew that he could give a girl a real ride. The front of her was shinny from the cum now glazed over her torso, Tessa sauntered over to the bar, making sure her ass wiggled as she went. Sitting up on a swivel chair by the bar, feet on each side of the stool's ring near the bottom, and knees spread apart as far as possible. Her front was soggy with cum, and her pussy on display for all to see. She looked at the group. So far she and Talley had earned their keep, but the real grunt work was about to really start. Smiling, she saw that she was having an effect on her audience as the well-used men began to show signs of life as their cocks began to respond to the show she was putting on. Looking over and noticed that two more couple had joined the group. Without even being introduced, the four newcomers stood off to the side and removed their clothes. They were in their thirties, all trim and fit. Tessa realized that the men would provide more a needed lift to the gathering. Shit, she thought, she was hoping that the men would be worn down. Now the count was up to over 20 people with two fresh guys added to the pot. Talley stepped up to Tessas stool. The sight before their eyes was enough to make any man cream in his pants, if they had any pants on. Both naked and smeared with cum, their bodies soft where it should be soft, firm where they should be firm, Tessa and Talley knew that they made a magnificent pair. Tessa had been spinning slowly on the stool, exposing herself to the crowd of men as Talley stood naked at her side. Both women sported flowing wet bald snatches for everyone to see, and Tessa didn't hesitate to rub her cunt lips and clit while she was smiling to the gathering. Her uninhibited attitude was irresistible, and served to make the cum refill the emptied balls of the men. So you guys want to fuck Tessa and me? started Talley said looking at the crowd around them. Well since you dumped on me and should be running on empty, Ill bet Tessa still can suck your cock dry without any problem. There was a general groan from the group as Tessa spread her legs even wider, her hand massaging her pussy. Yeah, guys, think of me as a warm up. Shit, Tessa will put you in a hospital by the time the night is over, and she is really looking forward to it, arent you baby? The two whores had done this before. One did the hawking for the other, working the men up, egging their cocks to full standing attention. You be, Talley. Look at those cocks. God damn Im going to love getting fucked. Shit, Im dreaming of cum drooling out of me. The slutty talk continued to work on the men. "Now, let's all get on the same track here, guys. What I'm telling you is, you're duty is to make fuck Tessa silly. Fuck her as hard and fast as possible, and as much as possible. I want to see that snatch of hers reamed wide open, and when this is over, I want to see a hole on her that I can sink my fist into. Is that clear?" A roar from the group confirmed that Talley was having the desired effect on them. Tessa shivered and broke out into a visible sweat. Her eyes narrowed, and her breathing increased to accentuate the nipples that were now hard as little rocks, and dying to be molested. She continued working on her clit which was now showing from between her cunt lips. "Not only are you to fuck her good, I want you to know that I want to see, and hear, her cervix being penetrated, and loads of squirted directly into her womb. Those cock heads should be popping in and out of that tight little cervix, and when this is over, she should be open enough for me to shove my arm up her to the elbow. I want that cum gushing from her cunt, and filling her to the brim. Is that clear?" Another loud roar for the men. Come, Talley, let me give her a shots, said on of the on looking males. Im going to shove my cock so far into her that its going to put a dome on her head, said another. Im going to split you open, you fucking bitch. Tessa was withering on the stool now. She was audibly moaning while her bare cunt was dripping in anticipation of her impending rape. She was flush with heat and was rubbing her bare snatch. Massaging her breasts and clit at the same time, she seemed to lose all inhibitions and control as she let out a low guttural whisper, "When are we going to fuck?" in a tone that expressed her obvious impatience. Come on, guys, lets fuck the little bitch, This came from Del as he stood there whacking his meat. Several of the men quickly came up to Tessa and grabbed her. Throw her ass on the coffee table, said one of them. Holding her carefully, they laid her on her back in the middle of the table. Without any hesitation or any preliminaries, one of the new men plunged his rock hard dick deep into Tessa's juicy cunt. "God, yes! Fuck me! Fuck meeeee!" she shouted as the man pumped for all he was worth, and in less than two minutes was flooding her insides with hot sticky sperm. Tessa climaxed almost immediately upon being entered and didn't come down from her mountain as the next fucker plugged her hole. The scene was repeated, and another load of semen ropes was placed deep within her. Up next was Norb, one of the newcomers, who boasted that he was a full 12 inches when hard, and they could all see that every inch was ready to go. Someone through a pillow to prop up Tessa's ass, giving Norb a good angle as he slowly pushed into her wet pussy. Tessa gasped as the tool hit her cervix, then, holding the him by his ass cheeks, she thrust her hips up while pulling him down, and "pop" he pushed through to enter her womb. "Holy Shit!" Carol exclaimed as she could almost feel herself being stabbed by the monster. "Where did he put that thing?" "He's visiting my eggs as we speak" Tessa said panting and feeling his balls resting against her asshole. She moved carefully to stretch her precious inner chamber door, keeping his cock head inside her womb, but moving back and forth to produce the deadly friction. It was more than Tessa could stand, and she let loose with another raging climax as she felt her womb being widened by the expanding cock before it flooded her inner depths with cum. Squirt after squirt of hot cum pumped into her and caused Tessa's eyes to roll in her head as she tossed from side to side. "Alright, don't wait! Next up," the yell came from Talley who was busily watching the action while pumping the cock of the next guy in line. When Norb stepped away from between Tessas thighs, Talley guided the thick bat she was holding into her sister's open pussy. Without a moments hesitation, the newcomer began to beat his meat into Tessa cunt, grunting every time he hit the bottom of her pussy. He seemed to take vengeance on Talley by pounding her unmercifully. As with Norb before him, Tessa kept working her cunt muscles on the mans cock, milking it with every stroke. Suddenly he could take no more of it. With a groan that was almost a whimper, the mans teeth clenched as his balls jumped and his prick unloaded the first of the many gobs of cum. Grabbing her by the hips, the man buried his pole in Tessas cunt and held it there, not stroking it but instead letting the cream fill pour into the back of her channel. Tessa sat up with the intention of catching her breath, but before long was back on her back with another long hard prick in her cunt. Not having had the pleasure until now, the man blasted her within minutes with pent up sperm that seeped from around the seal formed by his cock and Tessa's pussy lips. The next, another massive tool of about 11 or 12 inches, slammed easily to full length in her hole. This time the transition through Tessa's cervix was easier to manage, and she soon settled into a tight popping rhythm as the long bat sunk its head into her womb. She came loudly as another good load of spunk was delivered deep and filled her womb with the seed of a man. Another man immediately took his turn in Tessa, and madly pumped another load into her womb. Man after man followed, each spilling a very forceful load in Tessa. Soon all the men had the pleasure of fucking the good looking blonde, each one trying to make a complete wreck of her. As Tessa tried her best to stand, she had to be held up by two men at her side at all times. Her knees barely supported her as the cum flowed from her pussy and down her legs, this being collected by Del into a margarita glass every time she spewed forth another gusher. As Del collected the spilling sperm from Tessa's pussy, she turned just long enough from the hands that were mauling her breasts and whispered to Talley, "I wonder how open I am by now. Reach up and see in you can feel," and she spread her legs in a wide gesture like she was straddling a horse. Instead it was Del who reached up as all watched, and easily slipped three, then four fingers inside Tessa. Tessa was so slimy and wet that Del was able to narrow his hand and put it into her cunt until his fingers reached another hole. This he knew to be her cervix, through which he easily slid one, then two fingers through. The tightness of the ring was amazing, but Del could fit two fingers past with ease and, then, to his surprise, three. Del could feel a gush of mixed fluid seep over his hand which he extracted and let drip into the glass. He repeated the feat again and again with the same results, only each time his hand pulled out even more hot cum mix which Del caught in the glass which was now more than half full. Del heard Talley stammer, "Look what you've done. You've drained her pussy. Now I guess we'll just have to refill." And with a laugh, they got ready for another round of getting fucked. Oh no your not, exclaimed Talley as she sat down on the coffee table across from where Tessa had been hammered. I want some of these cocks for myself, the brunette said as she rolled onto her back, holding her thighs apart. Reach between her legs, Talley grabbed her cunt lips and pulled them apart. Come on you assholes, try this pussy if you really want to feel something tight, she dared the staring men around her. Being egged on by her companion, Tessa knelt down in front of the table and reached behind herself and grabbed her ass. Pulling her buttocks apart, exposing her asshole, she said, And if you guys are looking for m ore fun, try back here. Hey, God damn it, what about us? This came from Carol as she grabbed out for a nearby dick. You think youre the only one with a pussy? Yeah, you bunch of jag offs, what about the rest of us? question Marge as she leaned against a chair, rubbing her naked pussy. Alright men, said Del as he smiled at the women who stood and watched the first around, but now wanted their share of the fucking. Guys, we got a job to do, so lets get to it. That signaled a frantic continuance of fucking, this time of both of the whores. Tessa and Talley were both fucked with renewed lust along with the other women. It was the kind of experience that defies description. Two beautiful women, both in excellent shape, being ravaged by a room full of men that the wives had no intention of bringing under control. Men would stagger from one of the wives and onto either of the whores, fuck them, then with a few minutes of rest go back and continue fucking another one of the women. No one was left out this time. Del watched as both Tessa and Talley had their bodies fucked and filled with other men's sperm. He watched as unusually large cocks invaded their bodies in virtually all holes, but mainly in their cunts, the walls of which were stretched beyond belief. The massive rods had difficulty at first, but soon turned to easy going, followed by almost a loose fit. The men used their tools in laughter, knowing that they were making the two whores go crazy because they were forcing their cocks easily past the slut's cervixes, and directly into their wombs. The meat that at first only penetrated 9 to 10 inches, now were being thrust their full length of 10 to 12 inches into their wombs, and popped continuously back and forth through the constricted inner orifice as they were reamed out to wider and wider dimension. The men forced Tessa to take their meat using extreme treatment, the same as one imagines in an actual rape. Two would hold her legs wide while others would pound her mouth, cunt and asshole without concern for her comfort or pleasure. Men would straddle her in scissors fashion in this position, and alternately plunged their massive tools in her pussy and ass with continuous strokes, each time rotating their cocks similar to the way one would when using an electric drill to widen a hole, then spewing their seed deep into her. The night was filled with frantic intercourse, and the assurance that both women were inseminated with sperm directly into their wombs. Tessa and Talley were one continuous orgasm. At the end, both girls had full bellies, and Tessa was overflowing with semen. Tessa was raped unmercifully for a total of three and a half hours straight, and, near the end was being penetrated by two cocks at the same time in her pussy. Del from time to time would collect as much cum from the womens pussy as he could. He would approached a just-fucked woman, prop her up, and let the potent cum that didn't stick inside her flow from her cunt into the awaiting margarita glass in his hand. Tessa lay collapsed on the padded coffee table, her body convulsing in uncontrollable spasms, and her pussy raw and red as hacked meat. Both girls bodies were covered in sperm, and their hair matted with the white goo, and both had holes so wide that Dels hand easily slid inside, allowing him to explore past their cervix into their wombs with his fingers as they lay looking at him. Talley had the opportunity to experience some good face fucks and butt fucks, so semen was flowing abundantly from her ass as well as her cunt. Tessa had been pretty much confined to pussy fucking, but had been serviced in her mouth and ass to the point just before ejaculation, when the men would pull out and plunge their poles into her womb where they squirted the stuff. The difference between the two at this point was that Talley was still able to walk and talk, and Tessa was the picture of a fucked zombie who was barely coherent. Talley made her way around the room, still naked and flowing semen from her cunt and ass as the other couples staggered out of the room looking for a place to rest and regain their energy. Her inner thighs were smeared from the leaking cum as it oozed out of her lower orifices. The sight of the whore as she paddled around the room started to make Del feel horny again. Out of the corner of his eye, Del saw Steve strolled over towards Jack. Jack was on his knees between Carols wide open thighs as she sat on the edge of a chair, his head was buried in her pussy, his tongue working on her clit. At first Del couldnt figure out what Steve was going to do until he saw Steve reach around Jack and grabbed the slurping mans cock. Del at first wondered if Jack knew that it was another man that was now stroking his firm member. He held his breath as he watched Steve slow lower himself in to a spooning position, his prick tucked between Jacks ass, his legs rubbing up against Steves own legs, and his hand stroking Steves growing cock. If Del was concerned about Steve reactions, his concerns were put to rest as Jack raised his ass and undulated it against Steves groin, and giving Steve a better chance to beat on his reddened meat. "Oh yeah, fuck him!" Donna cried delightedly. "I've always wanted to see that!' she added enthusiastically. As Steve eased his prick inside Jack's ass, he continued to beating Jacks prick simultaneously much to Donna's obvious delight. "Oh please, someone...come fuck me in the ass!" she pleaded. Kevin smiled as he looked over to the woman as she stood there watching the action in front of her, her fingers rubbing her own cunt lips. Get down on your knees, bitch, he said to the masturbating woman as he came over to her. Let me ream that sweet ass of yours. With a smile on her face, Donna knelt down comfortably amongst several pillows propping her ass in the air. Reaching behind her, Donna grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled the apart exposing her tight looking asshole. Coming up behind her, Kevin inserted the tip of his straining cock inside the sweet puckered opening of her ass. Holding her by the hips, he aimed and pushed. At first the womans dry asshole wouldnt give. Then with a sudden squeak from the kneeling woman, Kevins prick pushed passed the resistance and began to bury itself in Donnas bowls. "God, I want to feel that too!" Tessa exclaimed. "Come on Del, you look like you're ready again!" Del was. Watching everything that was taking place around him had his senses reeling with unbridled lust. His and was wrapped around his own cock, beating it as he watched all the action around him. "Let me suck your cunt while Del fucks you," Talley suggested. Del was certainly up for that, in more ways than one. It was going to be his turn to work these to gorgeous women over. Situating themselves in a cozy little '69', Tessa lowered her pussy over her friends face. But she didn't stop there. With Talley's hard clit protruding up from those soft lips, Tessa bent down and captured it between her lips, strumming that nubbin with her tongue. Del came up behind Tessas inviting ass. Kneeling down, he pushed the sucking Tessa forward and he reached down and cupped Talleys head in his hand, raising it up. Come on, bitch, lubricate this thing or Im going to dry fuck your friends ass and tear her guts out doing it. Lifting her head, Talley sucked Dels cock into her mouth, in and out a few times, getting the pole glistening with her saliva. Thats it, baby, Del gritted between his teeth as he felt Talleys tongue the underside of his engorged cock. Pulling his prick from her mouth, he aimed it at Tessas inviting puckered opening. "Just fucking shove it in!" Tessa declared as she quivered in anticipation, spreading her knees even further apart so that she could lower herself to Talleys waiting lips. Grabbing Tessa by the hips, Del took his glistening prick in one hand and guided it to Tessas waiting asshole. He felt her tiny ass fight against the intrusion before suddenly giving way. As he felt his prick slide deep inside her bowls, Talley's hand reaching up to cup his tight balls giving them a gentle squeeze as he began to slowly trust in and out of Tessa's hot, tight ass while Talley sucked in Tessa's clit, tonguing it for all she was worth. Oh shit, came from along side the threesome. It was Marge. Suddenly Rich was on his back along side of them, and Marge dropping down onto his erect pole, burying it quickly inside of her love tunnel. "Come on Norb...shove that cum-fucker inside my ass too!" she said over her shoulder to Norb as he stood there stroking his cock. Not missing the opportunity for such and event, Norb obliged the bouncing woman as she continued to ride Richs cock. Without a moments hesitation, he jammed his cock between Marges ass and shoved it into re rectum, not giving a second thought of tearing her apart. From the look on Marges face though, she was feeling no pain. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open in a silent scream as Norb buried his cock to the hilt in her ass. They soon found a workable rhythm that was driving Marge insane with pleasure. Rich would fuck in, with Norb soon following, thrusting his prick inside Marge's ass. Along side of them, Del continued to enjoy the two whores. His prick continued to stroke the depths of Tessa's ass, while Talley was having a field-day below him as Tessa sucked on her clit. Talley often reached up to briefly toy with Dels shaft while chewing on Tessas swollen pink pussy lips. Off to one side, Marie had made her way over towards the bar. Del watched as she returned, the long end of a beer-bottle being gently inserted inside her pussy. Standing next to him as she masterbated herself with the bottle, he was delighted at the sight before him. Looking at the woman, her knees bend, her hand working the bottle in and out of her cunt, the lips widespread, it was a novel treat to see the bottleneck slowly fucking in and out of her sopping wet cunt. Marie was beside herself with erotic lust. Most everyone was doing something they'd only previously fantasized about, let alone ever do. And fucking herself with the bottle while everyone else watched was one of Marie's. "Look at me! Look at me fuck my pussy with the beer bottle!" she declared drawing nearly everyone's attention to her. "Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit...I'm going to make my self cum with it too!" she moaned, slamming it fully inside herself, convulsing wildly as wave after wave of pleasure consumed her. The sound of Carol moaning in what could only be the beginning of her climax drew his attention briefly away from that fucking beer bottle. Jack was still busily licking her pussy, his fingers just as busy finger fucking Carols ass as it drove her to an orgasm. But what had occurred since Del last looked in their direction, was that now Jack was beginning to loose control as Steve pounded his ass and stroked his dick at the same time. "Faster! Faster! Faster!" Donna was yelling at the top of her lungs as Kevin slammed his cock into her asshole time and time again. With her eyes glued to the spectacle of Jack's prick once again spewing cream as Steve worked away on it, she tumbled over the edge into ecstasy. Like domino's stacked against one another, the sounds of one person's orgasm seemed to trigger yet another and another as one by one, the orgasmic tiles fell in a near constant rapidity. Del felt Tessa's ass muscles suddenly clench tightly around his prick locking it in a vise-like grip that triggered his own orgasm. And though he doubted there was much left to bathe the inside of her shit chute, he nevertheless felt a wonderfully tingly sensation as his cock exploded in orgasmic bliss. Talley too moaned, grunted, and somehow erupted with one of her infamous pussy-squirts', shooting it all over Tessas sucking face. Too exhausted to remain as he was, Del fell away from Tessa's ass collapsing beside her on the floor. Gradually the entire room settled into a near silent sleep as everyone there collapsed just as he had done, exhausted, spent, and thoroughly satisfied. It was several long minutes of nothing more than one or two still trying to catch their breath before anyone actually spoke. At the end of the evening when all was collected from her and her sister, Talley took the glass that Del was saving the cum in and turned to Tessa, "Ok, kid, time to drink up." Tessa barely knew what was going on when she took the glass and proceeded to drain its contents down her gullet. She paused several times to savor the juices and swished the hot sperm around her mouth before deftly swallowing the thick living fluid for all to see. Del smiled to himself. It was a moment that all would remember. To be continued . . . .

Tessa the Toiler, Chapter 6 (MF, oral, con, anal) By Paco Svengali Released 04/23/2004 Updated 08/27/2007: Format Chapter 6 - Fatherly Love "Tessa, you've got to be kidding. You're the hottest pussy in Chicago, you're planning on going with Jack to the Caribbean where you're going to cost him a bundle, and you're actually dating another guy who thinks your Miss Apple Pie. Honey, give me a break!" The speaker was Tally, Tessa's best friend and another hooker. Because of their life style, they could be honest with one another, and often supported the one another when the need arose. They had worked double dates together and exchanged johns, but setting business aside, they were also close as sisters. Both Tessa and Tally were exceptionally beautiful women. Both were 5' 4" and had fabulous figures with a pair of tits to make any mortal man want to cum in his pants just thinking about them. The biggest difference between the two, and when they were together it was breath taking, was the fact that while Tessa was a blue eyed blonde, Tally was a simmering brunette with dark eyes. When the two of them were side by side, people marveled when they saw these two beautiful, contrasting women. Now they sat at lunch, dining alfresco, and catching up on gossip and laying out plans. "Tessa, what are you going to do about Dan? You haven't even let the guy get to first base. He's still being treated like a boy scout. Shit, he thinks you're the real thing, like you're someone who he could take home to mother. Honey, you're a hooker, and you're headed for a real mess. You're going to get hurt and you know I'm right." "Look, damn it, let me have my dreams, let me enjoy it while it lasts," responded Tessa with a sigh. "I know that nothing will come of it with Dan. His family is wealthy, if not prominent, and eventually I going to have to break it off. Christ, he comes from Highland Park. I've probably been laid by half the town." "Tessa, sweetheart, look at us. We're both hookers. We make great money, live very nicely and enjoy what we do. Hell, some would accuse us of being nyphos because we when we're with a guy, we like to get off with them. We just don't lie there and let them use our pussies as a sperm depository. "But some day, Tessa, we're going to start to show our age. It's going to catch up with us. That's the time when we can think about settling down. We'll be sitting on a damn nice bundle of money by that time. We can move to another town and start over where everything will be new and fresh, or we can stay here and hope for the best, but the best better be with some middle of the road guy, not the type we're used to now. After all, when you have the city's wealthiest as your clients, you limit yourself when you hang it up." Tessa sat there and listened. She knew that Tally was right. She had started to see Dan as almost a joke. The only problem was that Dan wasn't laughing. He was treating Tessa as a girl whom he wanted to be serious with. He made some advances, but when Tessa held him off, he treated her with respect. A guy will only be this way when he wants the relationship to get serious. On top of it, Tessa was dreaming dreams of Dan, starting to think of him in a serious light. With this in mind, she knew was setting them both up for a pile of pain. "Okay, enough lecturing for one day," said Tally as the waiter come up to the table. "What do you have going for yourself today?" "Got a call from a guy. His name is Maury." "Yeah, I remember that one." The waiter took all this in without blinking an eye. Tally handed him her credit cart and he went off. "He said some guy by the name of Ben would be calling me. It seems Ben is an old friend of Maury's. Maury asked me to set up a date with Ben when he called. The call is probably sitting on my answering machine right now." "Business always calls. Do you have to get back right away? We can stop at Saks and do some damage to our American Express if you have the time." "I better get back. If this guy is a friend of Maury, that means that his has a good roll of money to play with, and he'd be a good addition to a girl's book. Come on, I'll walk you over to Michigan Avenue, then be on my way." The two girlfriends left the restaurant and headed over to Michigan Avenue. For all those passing them by, they looked like two beautiful women doing what becomes two beautiful women, shopping and helping support the economy. "Hello," came from the other end. "Hello, is this Ben?" "Yes this is. And who is this?" "Tessa. You left a message on my answering machine." "Tessa, thanks for calling me back. Say, Maury thought I might give you a call. He gave me your name. I was thinking that we could get together possibly, you and me." "Sounds fine with me, Ben. If Maury gave you my name, I'd like to meet you." "Great. Now how would you suggest we proceed?" Tessa laid out a plan for the two of them. Ben would hop a cab and get a room at the Hyatt just off of Michigan Avenue. What he didn't know was that Tessa set it up so that all she had to do was walk across the street for the appointment. She would give him and hour, the join him. "Sounds good, Tessa. Say, I hope you don't mind, but I'm not what you'd call a kid anymore." "Ben, don't worry about it. I'll just treat you like a sugar daddy, if you don't mind. Anyway, I've never met a man who didn't want to seduce a girl young enough to her his daughter." "Hell, Tessa, you could be my granddaughter if what Maury tells me about you is correct. See you in an hour." The door was opened by a man in his fifties. He was a little over six foot with distinguishing gray hair and a body that was still in shape regardless of its age. "Tessa?" "Only if you're Ben," replied Tessa smiling at the man. With this guy's looks, Tessa thought, he doesn't have anything to worry about. Hell, at his age he should know how to do it and leave a girl screaming for more. "Come on in." Ben smelled the scent of her hair as she passed and admired the shapely figure. He was glad that he finally worked up the nerve to do this. Tessa was right about Ben. He was at that age where he realized that he had better fulfill any of his dreams because age was catching up with him. He had better get his flings in soon while his body would still let him. "You'll have to excuse me, Tessa. I haven't done something like this since I was a kid in the service. I mean, with someone other than, well you know, my wife. And, yeah, I still remember it." "Don't worry, Ben." "I mean, I feel a little nervous, and yes, maybe feeling a little guilty. But, hell, when you're about to bed a girl, and you're still a very young girl to me, who is probably younger than your own son, I guess man would be nervous." "Ben, as I said, quit worrying. With your looks, I'll be there's many a woman who wants to bed you. As to the guilt, well Ben, let's forget about your family right now. There's just you and me for the next few hours." Looking over Tessa shoulder, Ben remarked, "I love my wife, Cynthia, and we have a fine son. I'm real proud of my boy. He's joined my firm, and he'll take over when the time is right. Yeah, I guess that I should feel a little guilty being here." "Look, Ben, I don't want to cause you any trouble. If you want to call it off, I won't be offended." Hearing that, Ben was startled and looked back to Tessa. "No, sweetheart. I getting old and just once, just this once, I want to forget all that I'm supposed to do, and do something that I want to do. As long as no one finds out, I want to act like a teenager once more. I want to make a fool out of myself." Looking at Tessa, Ben asked, "This is you're turf, Tessa. Maury told me you were one of the best. Tell me, how many times do you think I could do it? I mean, how many times came I get it off, if you know what I mean." "Ben, first I know what you mean and, secondly, as you said, this is my turf. Let me ask you one thing, you got a two or three hours to spare?" Feeling the thrill of what the next few hours may bring him, Ben's breathing increased in anticipation. "Tessa, all I have to do is catch the 6:30 and I'll be fine." Smiling at him, this was the first time that she would have to work against the clock, Tessa asked, "So tell me about the last time. Why do you remember it after all these year?" "We were in Korea and on leave. We went to a cathouse and I got myself a real beauty. It seems that the Orientals love their baths. I spent the whole evening getting wrinkled from the water and having my pipes clean so many times that my balls ached for the next week. Jesus, that was something." Laughing, Tessa said, "I'm in trouble. How am I supposed to overcome memories like that?" Stopping to look into the older man's eyes, Tessa smiled and said, "You good enough for a triple header?" "Tessa! You're dreaming if you think that you can get me off three times before I have to go. Hell, I'm in my mid fifties, not my teens. What the heck do you think you can do with this old fart?" Tessa came up to Ben. Without a word, she put her hands around his neck and kissed him, letting her body press against his. Ben felt her breasts press into his chest and her hips come up against his groin. So lush was her kiss that he couldn't help himself. He grabbed her by the ass and pulled her against him, letting her feel his growing member. Breaking the kiss, Tessa gyrated her hips and said, "My goodness, Ben, do I want to look down? So much for you being too old, if you ask me." Stepping back, Tessa quickly removed her outer clothes, leaving herself standing in front of Ben in only her demi bra and thong. Neither of the garments left anything to the imagination. "Well," she asked, "are you willing to rob the cradle? Come on over here Ben, let Tessa do her magic on you." Before Ben knew what was happening, he found himself standing in his shorts, the front of which were bulging outward from his half swollen cock. Going over to the bed, Tessa free her breasts from her bra, then turned and stripped the covers off. Climbing into it, she cupped her tits in her hands. "Ben, come over here. I need some love. Kiss them. Go ahead, suck on my tits." If Ben had any thoughts of his wife and son, they soon vanished as he looked at this beautiful blonde, lying in bed, offering her tits to him. With a groan he climbed into bed with Tessa, his hand holding his erect cock, which was still trapped within his shorts. Coming up to her, he looked down at her offering. Her tits were full and firm, crowned by full nipples in the center of ripe areolas "Come on, Ben, suck 'em. Go ahead, they're yours." Ben bent down and ran his tongue across first one, then the other nipple. They were firm and responded to his ministrations. He took one of her hard buds between his teeth and sucked it into his mouth while running his tongue over it. "Ben, baby, don't quit. It feels wonderful," Tessa implored as she responded to his actions. Her hips came up off the bed, and her warm young thigh pressed against his leg, running up and down it. Ben looked down and said, "You have nice legs, honey," as he reached a hand out and placed it on her knee. With heavy breath, he was aware of the heat emitting from her as he moved his fingers down Tessa's leg, rubbing them as they went, until they brushed against the elastic of her tiny thong panties. Her legs automatically opened at his touch, inviting him to explore her further. Ben had stopped nuzzling Tessa's tits. He leaned on one elbow looking down at the blonde, watching her face as he began to explore her body. " Ohhhhhhhh, Ben!" she moaned, spreading her trembling legs even further apart. By the time Ben's fingers reached her prominent little mound, Tessa's ass was squirming around in circles. "You like that, don't you, Tessa? You like me touching your little pussy?" panted Ben. He could feel his cock, trapped between the bed and his body, hard as a rock. "Yes! Oh, God yes, Ben! I love it!" whimpered the young girl, hunching her hips up against his probing fingers. She lifted her mouth to his, and Ben kissed her full on the lips, excited by their soft and pliant fullness. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and Tessa's was right there to meet it. God, thought Ben, Maury was right. Tessa was a whore that knew and loved her business. He didn't know how much this was going to cost him, but it would be worth every dollar of it. Ben slipped his hand firmly between her thighs, stroking the soft puckered lips of her pussy through the thin silk of her thong. He felt the dampness of her leaking cunt. Tessa responded instinctively by groaning and squirming her hips even more. "Christ, Tessa, your pussy is so hot!" he groaned as he cupped her tiny, quivering mound completely in the palm of his hand and continued to massage it. "Oh, Ben, you make me so wet. Take my panties off. I want you to touch me. I want your fingers in my cunt." Ben couldn't believe this was happening. He quickly move between her legs and began to remove her thong. Tessa tried to help as much as possible by lifting her thigh perfect ass off the bed as Ben tugged at the waist band. Finally he managed to peel the thong over her hips and down thighs. Impatiently, Tessa kicked the tiny wad of cloth from around her ankles and spread her thighs wide apart. Ben caught his breath as Tessa' cunt flowered open before him. It was beautiful. At light blond fuzz covered her mound, failing to hide the puffy pink lips of her compact twat. With no hair to truly hide it, her narrow pussy slit stood out like a long gash, glistening with moisture. Tessa smiled. Reaching down between her thighs, she parted the lips of her cunt with both hands. As Ben watched in stunned silence, the pink innermost folds of her pussy were revealed. Her prominent clitoris peeked out, begging for his lips. "Do you like what you see, Ben?" she moaned softly to him. "It's fantastic, Tessa. I've never seen such a beautiful sight in my life," he mumbled almost to himself as he stared at the offering before him. Ben reached out to touch her, dipping his fingers into her hot wetness of the Tessa's gaping cunt. She responded by emitting a low deep moan as his finger stroked her aroused cunt. "Ben, that feels so good, so fucking good. Go ahead, put your finger all the way up my cunt, baby. Shove it in." Ben couldn't believe what he was hearing. Feeling his heart beat roaring in his ears, he inserted a finger between the Tessa's drooling pussy lips and pushed tentatively. Tessa's pussy seemed to suck his finger into it, clasping his finger in a warm, wet grip. She groaned with pleasure as it entered. Tessa humped her crotch up against his hand, gasping for breath, wanting even more penetration. Ben was turned on by her brazen lust. "More, Ben. Give me more," she panted as she squirmed her pussy against his invading finger. "Tessa, you're a real hot bitch, aren't you!" "More, Ben. More. Please." Ben inserted a second finger into her tight twat, quickly followed by a third. The only reaction that he got from Tessa was a squeal of delight as her hips rose off the bed to meet the invasion. Tessa's almost hairless pubes looked like a baby's mouth sucking at his fingers as her pussy lips puckered and pouted and slobbered around his plunging digits. Tessa's lithe young body was jerking and quivering with lust. "Fuck me, Ben! Fuck me with your fingers! Make me cum," she cried. Tessa's hips were bucking wildly up off the bed as Ben's fingers stabbed into her. His thumb felt for her clit, rubbing the hooded little bud with varying pressure. Little Tessa went wild! "Oh shit, I'm cumming. God damn it, you're making me cum1" Tessa came alright. She came hard, very hard, her cunt spasming and twitching around Ben's stabbing fingers until he thought she was never going to stop. He could feel the juices running from her, across his fingers and down his hand, smearing up the bed. Jesus, though Ben, here he was with a whore and who was getting it! The whore, that's who! Maury said she was a whore who loved her work, and sure as hell, Maury was right. Coming back to reality, Tessa ass quit convulsing and slowly came to rest as her orgasm passed over her. "Ben, you were wonderful." Throwing her arms around his neck, she pulled him to her. Tessa opened her mouth and kissed him hungrily, ramming her demanding tongue repeatedly down his throat. Ben returned her passionate kisses for as long as he could, finally pulling his feverish lips from her hot, clinging mouth. Looking down at his still enclosed cock, Tessa reached for him. Her fingers caught his shorts and pulled them down, only slowing as she worked them over his erect pole. Tessa gasped for breath as Ben's prick sprang into view. "God! It's beautiful! And you're worried about your age? Hell, Ben, if half the guys had something like this between their legs, I'd be paying for it, and not the reverse," she said, staring at the thick, blue veined pole sticking up from between his thighs. "It's my turn now," she said as she reached for his member. "Let me suck on it, baby." Ben was more than happy for her to suck his cock. He was beginning to believe that this gorgeous sexy bitch was going to make him cum like he had dreamt. Right now, her hot mouth on his prick would do just fine! His fingers were still inside her cunt, and as Ben looked down at her juicy slit sucking gently on his fingertips, he had idea. As her mouth went for his cock, he held her back, looking into her sparkling eyes. "Tessa, slow up, wait a minute," he said. "What do you want, Ben?" she asked as she wrapped her fingers around his throbbing cock. Ben smiled as he extracted his fingers from her pussy and ran them over Tessa's conical breasts, rubbing the hard nipples between his greasy fingers until the Tessa began to shiver and moan softly. Ben then ran his palms down over the curve hips, cupping her firm round, ass cheeks in both hands. They were incredibly firm. "Tessa," Ben grasped, "I want to suck your cunt, baby, while you suck me off! Get up over me." Tessa came to her knees and straddled his face with her crotch, spreading her legs apart so that her pink pussy lips gaped open only inches above his face. She reached down and grabbed his throbbing prick as it stood up like a totem pole, and positioned the bloated tip between her hungry lips. She loved the taste of a hard male cock. She opened her mouth wider, wrapping her lips around the head of Ben's engorge shaft. Slowly Tessa began to move her warm tongue up and down Ben's shaft as it slid slowly between her lips. She sucked him into her mouth until her throat was filled with his entire cock. As Ben felt Tessa's mouth envelop his stiff cock, he grabbed the cheeks of her firm ass with both hands and pulled her hovering cunt down onto his waiting mouth. A muffled moan escaped her lips as Ben's eager tongue contacted her gaping slit and brushed over her swollen clit. He dragged his tongue slowly across her swollen cunt lips, up one side of her cunt and down the other. He flicked his tongue back and forth across her clitoris making Tessa's hips quiver at the sensation. The room became filled with loud, wet slurping sounds as Tessa sucked greedily on his glistening cock. Ben ran his tongue back and forth between Tessa's cunt lips, getting her so excited she her hips until his face was buried in her slit and then she wiggled her juicy pussy all over his face. His hands cupped her firm buttocks, pulling her cunt hard against his open mouth as he thrust his tongue deep inside her drooling slit. He heard her gasp and felt her mouth increase its wonderful suction on his jerking cock. Tessa's pussy opened and closed around his tongue as he used it expertly as if it were a small stiff prick, deep within her fuck hole. Ben's tongue found her hard, quivering clit again. The tiny bud was stiff as a little cock, and throbbed and pulsed between his lips as he sucked it gently in and out of his mouth, just like Tessa's lips were doing to his cock. Ben could feel every ridge and valley of her mouth as his cock slid ever deeper between the girl's lips as she swallowed his huge throbbing organ to the very base. Her tightly stretched lips worked vigorously up and down the slick pole, covering every inch of its hard length with her warm, slippery saliva. Ben had made the hot little whore cum on his fingers like she'd never cum before, and Tessa was determined to return the favor by making him in her lovely mouth. Her lips were unbelievably tight around his prick, and Ben couldn't fight the urge to jerk his hips up off the bed, fucking his massive cock deep into her juicy warm mouth. Tessa was an expert cock sucker, and she knew exactly how to use her mouth on the male organ for maximum pleasure. On the upstroke, she sucked for a while on his fat, purple knob, sticking the tip of her tongue into the tiny slit in the head of his cock. Before too long, Ben felt his balls begin to expand urgently. "Oh shit, Tessa, baby! Christ! Here it comes! Suck it hard! I'm going to fill your gorgeous little mouth full of cum!" Tessa sucked greedily as Ben's hot jism began to spurt from the jerking tip of his cock. The thick, salty fluid filled her mouth and some of it leaked out the side of her mouth, running down Ben's balls. Tessa had to swallow and enjoyed the saltiness of the cream as it ran across her tongue. "Ohhhhhh! God! Fucking Christ! Suck it, you gorgeous little fuck! Take it, baby! Eat it all!" Cum kept oozing from the corners of her mouth as Ben's orgasm began to subside. Tessa lifted her lips from his cock for a second, and with a ropy strand of cum hanging from her lips to his prick, and she licked her lips of the last of his cum. Holding Ben's cock, Tessa licked the shaft dry, and then continued sucking gently on it, keeping it hard. She didn't want him to go soft on her just yet. If she was to get him off three times, she still had a way to go. His cock had felt so good in her mouth, but now it was time to feel it slicing into her juicy slit. She turned around and lay on top of him, rubbing her tits and cunt over his sweaty body. "Jesus! You're fantastic, baby?" said Ben as he let his hands slide down over her back. He filled his hands with her ass cheeks, rubbing and kneading the firm round globes as she squirmed deliciously against him. "I'm hot alright!" replied Tessa, rubbing her juicy cunt against his belly. "I'm hot for big cock, Ben! Will you fuck me now? It's hard again. I can feel it throbbing against my pussy! Please put it in and fuck me, Ben!" Tessa smashed her lips to his and kissed him passionately, sucking his tongue into her mouth. The young whore's 's hips moved in tiny humping circles, rubbing her wet, gaping cunt up and down his cock, leaving a thin, shiny film on him. "Okay, Tessa! I want to fuck you! Get down on the bed and let me see that pussy of yours." Tessa rolled off his chest and lay panting expectantly beside him. Her long, slim legs were drawn up, exposing her cunt to him. Ben groaned at the unbelievably sexy sight. Her pussy lips gaped sweetly open, revealing the moist, pink interior of her juicy cunt. The dark hole just below her prominent clit held his gaze. Tessa looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Ohhhh, Ben! Do you like what you see? Quick, fuck me, Ben! Fuck me.... Please!!" Tessa encouraged him, and her tiny hips humped seductively up at him. "Yesss! Oh God how I want your pussy!" hissed Ben scrambling rapidly between the girl's wide spread thighs. His cock was raging, fully hard, sticking out from his hairy groin like a baseball bat. The bulbous purple head and pulsing veins along the massive shaft fascinated her. Looking at it, Tessa smiled and thought that with a pole like that, Ben could satisfy any woman, regardless of her age. She smiled and swallowed as she watched Ben's huge cock advance towards her gapping cunt. She instinctively spread her legs wider, offering her slit to Ben. Ben resisted the impulse to ram his shaft deep into her tight, juicy gash. Instead, he used the tip to slowly probe her outer lips, smearing their juices over her cunt in anticipation of his penetration. Tessa caught her breath as she felt as his hard, fat cock press urgently between the moist lips of her pussy. Holding her breath, Tessa reached around and grasped his ass cheeks with both hands as Ben panted above her. "Oh Jesus, Ben! For Christ's sake put it in me. I want to feel you. Come on and fuck me! Ohhhhh!" whimpered Tessa as she squirmed her crotch frantically up onto his teasing cock. "You want me to fuck you, Tessa, don't you?" grinned Ben as he continued running the tip of his cock up and down inside the tight, wet lips of Tessa's drooling little snatch. "Yes! Yes! God, yes! I want it so fucking bad, Ben! Come on! Shove it in! Fuck me, please!" she panted knowing that the chanting of a woman begging to be fucked added to the male's excitement. The hard pressure of Ben's cock head rubbing slowly against her inflamed clit was getting to Tessa and soon she was whimpering and writhing beneath him, urging him on, begging him to fuck her. "Open your little legs as wide as you can for me!" Ben asked of the withering whore underneath him Tessa did as she was asked, spreading her thighs until her pussy gapped open before his swollen prick. Ben pushed forward a little, stretching Tessa's quivering cunt lips until the tip of his cock lodged suddenly into the entrance of her tight, juicy fuck hole. As the thick, round knob began to penetrate cunt, she humped her hips up at him. Ben resisted the impulse to plunge right in and instead enjoyed the exquisite pleasure he felt as her cunt lips closed tightly around his knob. Tessa looked down between her legs as Ben's huge cock pressed further into her pussy and gasped, "It's beautiful, Ben. Your cock is so beautiful. God damn, I want it." "And in a couple of seconds, baby, you're going to get all ten inches of it stuffed right up that hot, tight, juicy cunt of yours!" "Oh, yes, please!" cried Tessa as she urged him on, shamelessly reaching down and spreading the lips of her pussy with both hands. She moaned and gripped Ben's huge, bloated cock with one hand and guided his prick into her drooling twat. Ben looked down and watched her lubricate his cock by rubbing it expertly up and down through her juicy lips. "You ready, sweetheart?" Ben grinned. "Uh, yes, yes! Shove that mother fucker in me, Ben," she moaned, masturbating her erect little clit with the tip of her fingers. "Christ kid, you were born to fuck, you little slut!" Ben said as he began to push forward with his cock. It slid into her tight, slippery cunt a lot easier than he expected. They both looked down and watched as her pink, hairless cunt lips stretched and parted, and Ben's long, thick cock sank slowly but surely into her tight pussy. "Put it in and fuck me!" she squealed as she arched her hips up off the bed to give him easier access to her cunt. Ben grabbed her by the waist and hunched forward, burying his raging prick the rest of the way into Tessa's pussy with a single, solid thrust of his hips. Tessa gasped loudly and lifted her little ass with her legs spread wide, her eyes unfocused and her lips parted. She moaned as Ben's big prick sliced between her pussy lips and drove deep into her belly. He kept shoving his cock forward, stopping only when the head of his cock came against her cervix. Tessa's breathing became increasingly labored. Grabbing Ben's arms, she started wiggling her ass up off the bed in an attempt to skewer more of his pole into her hot gaping cunt. Ben pulled almost completely out of her gripping pussy, and then slammed his hips forward, ramming his big cock back inside of her as far as it would go. "Oh Tessa, you little slut," he gasped. "You like my big fat prick way up there, don't you baby?" Tessa's could only grunt and wither under him. Her cunt was filled with ten long inches of hard, throbbing cock and she was enjoying every second of it. Tessa made whimpering animal noises as Ben stabbed his prick repeatedly into her creaming pussy. Her shameless cries and moans of pleasure combined with the wet slap of her thighs on his, drove Ben on. His cock swelled and throbbed within her, growing ever bigger as he plunged deeper and deeper into the Tessa's tight, heaving belly. "Fuck me, Ben!" she breathed hotly. "Oh, it feels so good! I love fucking! Your cock feels so big and deep inside me. Come on Ben, give it to me!" Tessa raised her legs high and wrapped them around Ben's waist. She bucked hard, meeting his savage thrusts stroke for stroke. "Ahhhhhhhh, baby, you're the best!" Ben groaned, feeling the girl's bubbling insides grip his cock like a vice. He couldn't believe the effect Tessa was having on him. He hadn't had a fuck like this in years and years. Ben was thrilled and aroused beyond anything he had ever experienced before in his whole life. Even in her prime, his wife never put out like this. With each thrust, hot pussy juice bubbled out from around the base of Ben's cock and dribbled down between Tessa's thighs, coating her smooth young ass with a slick film of shiny moisture. In no time at all, her ass and the couch beneath it were saturated with her warm seeping juices. Ben's cock felt as if it was going to explode inside her belly at any second. Ben's balls quivered and swelled with the impending release. Knowing that the end was near, Ben hunched low over Tessa's squirming body and pumped hard, feeling her hard nipples sliding deliciously across his chest. Within a few seconds her whole body stiffened, and Ben felt Tessa's cunt contract around his cock as she came. Her eyes flew open and so did her mouth in a cry of ecstasy. She tried to scream out her pleasure, but Ben covered her parted lips with his own, tonguing her mouth as her jerking young body took care of the fucking for both of them. Tessa's blue eyes were unfocused and glazed over with passion as she felt every nerve in her body as wave after wave crashed through her. Her mouth was open and little animal grunts of pleasure escaped her lips as Ben kept on fucking her, driving the very air from her lungs. "Aaiiiieeeeee!" she cried, then in a wild rhythm to match her body's wanton jerks and twists, "Uhh! Uhh! Uhh!" Then Ben felt his own climax approaching. Tessa's cunt was spasming around his cock so tightly, he couldn't hold back any longer. Pinning her shoulders to the bed, he closed his eyes and concentrated all his feelings into his cock. He pounded his rod so deep into her cunt that the tip was pushing into her cervix. With a lusty growl, he knew that nothing could stop the massive explosion of cum that he knew would be bursting out of his swollen balls. Another few thrusts and Ben was there. His hips thrusting forwards and his cock began to spurt to the very depths of Tessa's cunt. "Oh, sweet Jesus, fuck," he cried as his balls jumped, releasing the first load. He shuddered and gasped, feeling the load travel up his cock and jerk inside Tessa's tight cunt, sending thick wads of scalding cum exploding from the his prick. Ben gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he hammered his boiling cum deep up inside her. Tessa fucked back thrust for thrust. Her pussy felt so deliciously tight around his cock. It was well oiled, slippery and greedy, the tight satiny walls squeezing and tugging at his meat. In no time at all the professional whore was cumming again, gurgling with delight as she creamed all over his pistoning prick, sending even more slim over his balls and down the crack of her ass. Ben rode his orgasm to the end. As his balls slowly drained, he could feel Tessa start to regain her control as her orgasm reached its end. Inhaling, he pulled his cock from her pussy, leaving a rope of cum still connecting the two. Looking down at Tessa's snatch as he knelt between her outstretched legs, he watched their intermingled juices leak out of Tessa's cunt. He couldn't believe it, this beautiful woman had sucked his balls dry twice now, and he had a feeling just looking at her smiling face that the day wasn't over yet. Tessa sat up and gave Ben a quick kiss on the cheek. "With a stud like you, a girl gets a damn heavy workout. This woman smells like a whore, if you ask me. Why don't you stay here while I get some of this goo off me." Ben smiled and watched as Tessa bounced off the bed and headed into the bathroom, her ass rotating as she walked. Her body was covered with a silken sheen of sweat and had a slightly pink hue to it. Soon he heard the shower running and her splashing. Lying there in the bed, naked, Ben rubbed his stomach. It was still firm and flat. Not as firm or flat as when he was younger, but, by God, after the last few hours he knew that he still had it in him. Remembering their earlier conversation, Ben again thought of the time he was in the service and the night in the whore house. Thinking about it made his cock give a slight, all be it weak, twitch. Getting up, Ben went into the bathroom. The shower was just a stall equipped with regular curtains. Ben could see nothing of Tessa but heard her humming as she splashed round enjoying herself. Coming up to it Ben pulled the curtain aside and looked in, and was greeted by the sight of Tessa rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, her head tilted back, her breasts thrust forward. His gaze wandered down Tessa magnificent wet body covered with a slight slick of soap, and his cock gave a slight jerk in response. Jesus, he didn't believe what Tessa could do to him. "Can you spare some room in there, lady?" Smiling without opening her eyes, she had heard him enter the bathroom, Tessa said, "Come on it, Ben. There's room for all in here." He stepped in, his body wetted by the water. Tessa turned her back to him as she washed away the shampoo that trickled into her face and eyes. In doing so, she presented Ben with her beautiful ass. He touched her shoulder and she responded with a wiggle of her entire body. He then put his other hand on her hip, then brought his first down from her shoulder and wrapped it around her waist. Holding her by her belly, Ben pulled Tessa to against himself, her back nestled into his chest as his cock pressed into the crack of her ass. "I love it!" he whispered harshly into her ear. "Yes, I can tell." Tessa tilted her head back and opened her mouth for a kiss. Ben bent down and locked his lips on hers. They snaked their tongues together causing his cock to continued to grow as it snuggled between her firm ass checks. Tessa turned to face her lover. They kissed again as her arms went around his neck and her body plastered against his. In response, Ben placed his hands on her hips and pulled her into his groin, letting his cock press into her mound. She lifted one of her legs to part her tights just enough so that his cock could push between them. Now resting the length of her labia, Tessa lowered her leg and captured his cock between her thighs. Remembering Korea and one of the many pleasures he had experienced there, he slid his hands from her hips to her ass. He dropped his hands to the bottom of her ass cheeks and grabbing the soft, yet firm flesh, he pulled her buttocks apart thus allowing the running water to run over her exposed asshole. "I was just going to soap myself down when I was done with my hair. You know where I could get some help?" "Maybe" "Wash me?" "Of course," he smiled. "Okay." How any man wouldn't want to touch every part of this woman, he couldn't imagine. Ben reached for the washcloth and bottle of soft soap. Wetting the cloth, he squeezed a healthy amount of the soap into it. His eyes never leaving hers, he started to circle the cloth on her chest. After a few moments, Tessa's chest was rich in a thick lather. Working his way down, Ben soaped her firm tits, her nipples hard and erect. He stroked the cloth over the swollen buds as they grew in response to the attention they were getting, until they were like two ripe raspberries. He then proceeded to her belly, then on to her sides from her hips to her arm pits. Tessa giggled when he washed under her arms and her body twitched at the sensation. Through all this, Ben's cock continued to grow until it stood out from his groin in rigid anticipation of where his hands were to go next. Ben squatted down on his haunches and proceeded to wash her slim thighs that had gripped him minutes before. As he stooped and washed her, he couldn't help but catch his breath from the sight of her pussy, which was inches from his face. Ben couldn't help himself even if he wanted. Gripping the back of Tessa's thighs while still holding the cloth in one hand, he pressed his face into her beckoning pussy. She responded by bending and parting her thighs as she braced her hands on the walls of the shower. His tongue sought out her pussy. She tilted her hips even further giving him better access to her cunt. He eagerly responded by licking her outer labia, the darting his tongue between the lips and licking her inner labia. Moving up her slit, Ben found her clit and began to suck it between his lips as he rubbed the tip of his tongue across it. Tessa responded with a twitch of her hips as her breath became ragged grasps. Ben licked down to her opening and pushed his tongue inside her as far as he could, then turned and twisted it inside of her. He then dragged his tongue up along her entire slit until hr reached her clit again. Ben repeated this back and forth motion causing Tessa to throw her head back and start to make animal like sounds of pleasure. Coming back to his feet, he asked, "Do you like that?" Tessa was too aroused to be able to answer clearly. With her eyes still closed, she could only manage to shake her head to acknowledge the pleasure that he had given her. "Turn around," he instructed her. "It's time for your back." Obeying him, Tessa turned and leaned up against the wall of the shower as the water streamed down on the two of them. Enjoying the sight of the firm, smooth muscles of her back, Ben squeezed more soap into the cloth and began to scrub her back. He did not spend too much time there. He soon squatted down again and began to wash her ass cheeks, letting the cloth slip between the crack of her ass as he sought her puckered rosette, which brought a grasp from her. Ben quickly stood up, set the cloth off to the side and began to rinse the soap off of Tessa. Thinking that he was done, she started to turn. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "No, Tessa, stay. I'm not done yet." Squatting back down, Ben reached for her ass cheeks. Gripping them, he pulled her buttocks apart, exposing her asshole. "Go ahead, Ben. Do it," she whispered to him. Ben leaned forward and planted a kiss on each buttock as she pushed her hips back to meet him. "Spread you legs, baby," he told her. Obeying him, Ben reached under her and slipped a finger into her cunt. Kissing her ass, he let his fingers massage her clit, then let it slip between her cunt lips. As he massaged her cunt, driving his finger deeper and deeper into her pussy, her whole body relaxed until his middle finger was buried as deep as it could go. All the time, he continued to kiss and lick her ass, inches away from her anus. Working his finger in her cunt, Ben leaned in between her buttocks and planted a kiss on her asshole causing Tessa to emit a groan of ecstasy. He then began to lick her anus, stopping for time to time to push his tongue inside of the brown rosette. Suddenly standing up behind her, Ben took one of her hands that was bracing her against the wall and brought it down to her pussy. "Go ahead, baby. Play with yourself. Go ahead," he coaxed her. Ben took one of his fingers and placed it up against her asshole. Tessa tensed a little, but as his finger slipped into her ass, she relaxed as she felt it entered her. Ben pushed until his finger was buried in her rectum to the first knuckle. Sliding back to give a second finger more room, he proceeded to push two fingers up Tessa's ass, then pumped them in and out. Tessa's knees began to weaken as Ben continued his pumping of his finger in and out of her asshole. "Ben. Oh, Ben," she managed to get out. "I don't know how long I can stand it. Oh Christ, it feels so good." Reaching for the cloth, Ben held it over Tessa's rear and let the soap run off it and down the crack of her ass. Then he squeezed it over his cock, soaping his swollen pole. Putting one hand on her hip and holding his prick with the other, Ben positioned the tip of his cock at her asshole. Using the soap as a lubricant, he pressed into her bowels. Reluctantly the tip of his cock slipped through the tight ring of her asshole. Ben stopped to let Tessa get used to the feeling of a cock shoved up her shit chute. Then taking a second breath and holding her by her waist with both hands, Ben steadily shoved his cock into her ass until his stomach was stopped by her ass cheeks. Tessa squirmed and jerked her hips around like her life depended on it, helping Ben work his cock deeper and deeper into her chute. "Oh, yeah, you gorgeous little bitch!" he growled. "Work those hips, baby! Come on, that's it! Yeah, fuck me with that hot little ass of yours!" "Oh, harder, Ben!" she pleaded as she worked on her pussy with her own fingers. "Do it harder! It feels so good! Shove it in me." Her ass stroked Ben's cock like a sucking mouth, giving the shaft a good squeeze with her muscles each time she lifted her hips to meet his driving prick. A steady moaning came from her softly parted lips while Ben fucked her hard, pounding her hot ass with a series of deep, powerful thrusts. In addition to the slap of his belly against ass, Ben's prick made loud squelching noises in her asshole as he slammed in and out of her frothy rear with all the strength that he could muster. Tessa began to buck her hips back at him in wanton abandon as she was aroused by the huge cock in her ass and the massaging of her fingers on her clit. She began to twist her hips and ass, keeping perfect time with his deep, pounding thrusts. Ben felt Tessa's asshole grip him like a fist. When he pulled out of her, she reared forward with her hips, keeping the tip of his cock tightly gripped within the tender, sucking ring of her anal passage. Then when he drove into her ass, she slammed her ass backwards to drive his cock up her rectum as far as it would go. "Oh, yes, just like that! Oh yes, yes! You're fucking me so good!," moaned Tessa as Ben stepped up the speed of his thrusts. In turn, Tessa pumped her hips up at him like a machine, fucking him right back. Then it hit Ben. He thought his balls were going to explode. His nuts jumped and his cock swelled, then a gush of cum erupted from his cock and spewed deep in Tessa's bowel. It was quickly followed by another, and another, as he proceeded to pump another load out of his well worn nuts. Tessa now held onto the wall, her own pussy forgotten. She felt his cum leak into her rectum while she kept up the stroking with her hips. She wanted Ben to cum for the third time even if she had to offer her ass as a sperm depository. And she knew that Ben would remember this fuck session as fondly as he did his stint in the service. Ben's hips slowly came to a halt, his cock still up her ass. He stood in the shower letting the water run across his torso as he felt his cock start to thither in Tessa's rectum. With one final squeeze of his balls, the last drops of cum seeped into Tessa's ass, and he stepped back, letting his cock slip out from between her ass cheeks. Turning to him, Tessa reached up and kiss him. "And what were you worried about, Ben?" she asked as she reached for the cloth. "Was it something to do with your age? Didn't think you could put out, did you? And how old are you?" she asked as she lathered Ben's limp dick and washed it clean. "Do you realize that you just fucked me three times as well as made me cum twice? And you were worried! Hell, I'll bet your wife walks around with a big smile on her face, you stud, you." "Tessa, I don't know how I can thank you. How great you made me feel." "Honey, you weren't the only one that feels great." Rinsing themselves off, Tessa reached over and turned off the water. "Now, Ben, you get out of here. Dry off, put your clothes on and get going. You have a train to make." "How will I ever repay you/" Ben asked. A half hour later, Tessa looked around the room to make sure that she had left nothing behind. Smiling, she turned around and closed the door as she went out into the hallway. Ben didn't need an answer to his last question. Thinking of the roll of money that was now tucked into her purse, Tessa smiled. Yep, she and Tally were right, if you stick with the best, you get rewarded the best. To be continued . . . .

Sharing Family Vol10 (Mff, cons, anal; ff, lez, ws, fist) by Paco Svengali Released 08/06/2007 Synopsis of The Sharing Family Paul and Laurel Sharing along with their two teenagers, Brian and Jennifer, enjoyed the family gatherings, especially when the gatherings centered on fucking one another. After the first incestuous family orgy, Jennifer and Brian were amazed as well as delighted to learn that their parents were a part of a swingers group and the group was looking to expand its membership to include the off spring of the members. Assuring their parents that there would be no problem with doing so, Brian and Jennifer threw a pool party for their friends that resulted in a wide open orgy. During the free for all, Brian and Jennifer told the others about the swingers club and who the members were. While surprised that their own parents were a part of it, none of the teens found the idea unacceptable. Many of them went to bed that night thinking of what it would be to lay or get laid by their own mother or father. In fact, some of them not only went to bed dreaming about it, but skipped the dreaming part and actually went to bed with their parents and got fucked for their effort. For the remainder of the week, many of the families in the neighborhood were going to bed earlier than usual. However sleep was not on the menu. In addition, there seemed to be more sleepovers than usual. Chapter 23 Jumping the Gun (Mff, cons, anal) Paul was excited. This coming weekend was the introduction of the second generation of swingers into the club. He and Laurel were responsible for setting the whole thing up and they intended to make it an event that all would remember. It was late in the afternoon and he came home early to work on some of the plans and to make a few phone calls that he did not want his whole office listening in on. Coming through the door, he heard some noises coming from up stairs in one of the bedrooms. With everyone excited about the coming events, it wouldnt surprise him if he found one or another of his family getting laid. Going up the stairs, he came to his daughters room. Knocking, he stuck his head in. Whats going on, guys? he asked as he looked in. Sitting on the bed was Katie, youngest child and only daughter of Bill and Julie. Bill was his college roommate. The two of them were the founders of the swingers club. Bill met and married Julie while they both were still in school and it wasnt long after that when they both realized that they enjoyed an open life style. Over the years Paul had spent many wonderful hours with his cock buried in Julie. Now he was looking at their youngest, sitting on the bed, a book in her hands. Were just cracking the books, dad, said his own daughter, Jennifer, from the small desk set off to the side. Were the only ones home right now. Brian is still at school, and mom is out shopping. Shell be home soon. Okay, Ill leave you two alone. I want to take a quick shower, then make some phone calls about this coming weekend. Stopping, he looked over to Katie. You guys looking forward to it? His eyes moved over Katie. A slim, blue eyed blond, she had the same body as her mother. Medium sized breasts, but firm. And if she were the same as her mother, she would have wonderfully pink areoles topped with ripe nipples. If Katies oldest brother was 18 years old and her middle brother was 17, Katie had to be 15 years old. Just the thought of how young the pussy was caused Pauls prick to twitch in his pants. She would make a great romp in the sack. Jez, and am I, said Katie. Dad and my brothers have been fucking mom and me ever since the pool party. But I am dying to see some of the other cock. Listening to mom, its got to be something. God, Id swear its taking forever to get to the weekend. As she spoke, her eyes ran up and down Paul. In talking with her mother about the swingers club, Katie learned that she and Paul enjoyed each other for over 20 years, going all the way back to their college days. She also learned that Paul had a great cock and knew how to use it. The idea of waiting until the weekend to get into his pants seemed foolish to her. Smiling, Paul said, Ill bet those apes loved it. Christ, your dad is the randiest guy Ive ever met. Turning to leave the room, he added, Im off. You guys keep going. After he was gone, Katie turned to Jennifer. Uh, Jen, is it really necessary to wait until this weekend? I mean, well, just suppose that something were to come up. I mean if the opportunity came along . . . well I think you know what I mean, dont you? Katherine, dear, do you think Id encourage you to try to drag my own father into my very own bed and fuck him? Im shocked. This latter was said with a giggle. Actually, I was thinking of scrubbing his back for him . . . and any other part of him that came into reach. Without saying a word, Katie got up off the bed. She was in a loose blouse and cargo shorts. In one swift motion she unbuttoned her blouse, slipped it off and threw it into the corner. She wasnt wearing a bra. With on quick swooped, her shorts and panties followed. Looking to her friend, Katie asked, Do you think hell like it? Shit, if he doesnt, come back here and Ill take care of you. Oh yeah? Look bitch, even if he does like it, you and I can have a go at it later. How does that sound? Like I said, youre a real bitch. Thanks. Sauntering bare-assed out the door, Katie heard the sound of the shower from down the hall. Following the sound, she passed through the master bedroom, pushed the door open and entered the bathroom. She was greeted by the sight of Paul in the shower. The glass was clear, giving her a good view of the man. The older man had his back to her. He was in good shape and with a nice, tight ass. This bought a smile to her lips. Hearing a noise, Paul turned and saw the girl standing there examining him. Looking at her naked, he was right in comparing her to her mother. Not large breasted, Katies tits were still a good handful with fine pink, puffy areoles capped by nipples that now responded to her growing excitement. Her waist was long and slim. Her mons was cover with a fine silken dusting of pubic fuzz that left nothing to the imagination. Her cunt lips clearly visible. This was one pussy that wouldnt ever need to be shaved to be shown off. As she came over to him, Paul pushed the shower head off to the side and opened the door. Without saying a word, the girl stepped in to join him. Putting her arms around his neck, Katie reached up to his lips and kissed him, running her tongue across his teeth. In response, Paul put his arms around her, sliding his hands down her back to her sweet ass, then pulling her hips against his groin. She could feel his half-hard dick as it pushed against her mons. So far, neither had said a word. Lifting her leg up, Paul slide his hand down to so that he could hang her leg over his hip, and then ran it up her thigh and to caress her cunt lips. Feeling s shiver pass through her body, Katie whispered, Gee, Mr. Sharing, youre getting awfully fresh. Katie, you dont have any idea how fresh I intend to get. Yeah, but me first. Taking the soap in her hand, the teen moved around Paul and began to lather his back with the wash cloth. She ran it across his shoulders, then down his entire back, coming to his buns. With a deep inhale she soaped up one, then the other buttock. Twitching her cunt in anticipation, she slowly worked her sudsy finger between his cheeks until one of them felt his wrinkled anus. Going slowly she worked her fingers over the nether opening, sometimes stopping to let one of them tickle his asshole. Pulling out and squeezing the suds from the face cloth into her hand, Katie then reached all the way down and cupped the older mans balls. Paul almost blew is nuts when he felt the girls hand holding his gonads. His prick was now solid, sticking straight out from his groin. As Katie worked his balls in her slick hand, his knees began to shiver from the effect she was having on his body. Reaching back for her, Paul pulled Katie around so that he could get his hands on her. Taking the wash cloth, he first began by lathering her shoulders and arms. Looking down at her body, his prick aiming at her navel, he admired her tits. . Pauls scrubbing moved downward, lathering her upper body and his hands caressing her firm breasts, feeling her hard nipples respond to his touch. Bending down, he kissed her lips as he squeezed and massaged her tits. Katies response was to drive her tongue into his mouth. Continuing his downward journey, he rubbed soap over her belly. Just before he approached her mons, he turned the girl around and began on her back. He ran the cloth over her firm back and reached the top of her ass. Admiring its beauty, his hands caressed her ass while spreading suds across her two firm mounds. Running soap up and down the crack of her butt, he wanted nothing more than to drive his cock up her young ass. Turning her around once again, Paul ran the soap down her front again but this time not stopping at the top of her downy bush. He slowly lathered up her pussy, his finger caressing her wet slit. Katie responded to his touches by sending her tongue into his mouth as far as she could. As he worked on the teens pussy, the older man noticed that her cunt wasnt wet from the water. The oilier wetness that he felt on his finger could only come from within the young girl as she responded to his fondling of her body. Breaking the kiss, Paul grasped Katie by her shoulders and let the water wash the soap from her body. Moving her back against the shower wall, he slowly slid down to his knees. As he passed the girls tits, he gave each one a lick and a nip with his teeth. In response he heard a quick intake of breathe. When he was all the way down, he let his tongue probe the girls navel as he ran his hands from the girls slick waist, over her hips and down her legs, enjoying feeling the firmness of the youthful body. Knowing what was coming next, Katie raised one of her legs and threw it over the older mans shoulder so that her pussy was all but pushed into his face. Appreciating the sight that was being presented to him, Paul smiled as he admired the light down that covered the girls mons and the fullness of her cunt lips. The water twinkled off her fine pubic hair and drops fell from her twat. Looking carefully, he could see her clit sticking out from between Katies inner cunt lips. Go ahead, said Katie as she reached out and put her hand to the back of his head. Suck on it. Give me your tongue. Feeling his prick throbbing between his legs, Paul reached back and grabbed Katie by her ass. Pulling her even closer, he let the tip of his tongue reach out and tickle her love bud. Feeling her muscles in her ass jump, he started to run his tongue over her bud, twirled it around and lightly nipping it with his teeth. This elicited a whine from Katie as she felt every nerve in her body respond to his sensuous tongue. Leaning back against the shower wall, Katie pushed her hips forward, giving Pauls probing tongue easier access to her quivering cunt. Inhaling, Paul shoved his tongue passed her inner lips and into her cunt as far as he could. Curling it, he tickled her love passage causing the girl to almost loose her footing in the wet shower. Holding her tightly by the hips, the older man used his tongue the same way he would use is cock, fucking the tight cunt for all he was worth. His actions drove Katie to such ecstasy that she couldnt hold herself up. Slowly she began to slide down the wall. No, baby, well drown if you keep going. Get up. Turn around, Paul gasped as he pulled his probing tongue out of her. Looking slightly wild eyed at him, Katie turned around and used the wall to help herself up. Just as she stood and reached for the shower bar, she felt Pauls hands clutch her hips. No, no. Stay the way you are. Paul was still on his knees. As he held the youth, her delicious looking ass was staring at him. Leaning forward, he planted a kiss on her wet ass cheek, first one, then the other, and finally ran his tongue from the bottom of her ass crack to her tail bone. Feeling excitement course through her body, Katie shoved her ass out and reach around to hold her cheeks apart. Looking at her butt hole, Paul blew on it causing Katies body to jerk from the incredible sensation. The youths innocence did not expect what happened next. Pushing her hands away and holding her ass cheeks apart with his own, Paul started to run his tongue from the girls perineum upward toward her asshole. He circled Katies anus slowly, his hands spreading her ass as wide as possible. Now Katie realized what Paul was going to do. Waves of pleasure surged through her body when she realized that the older man was gong to actually lick her asshole. She found herself shivering in anticipation. Pulling back, Paul looked at the girls asshole as the shower spray rained down on the both of them. Leaning forward, he thrust is face between her ass cheeks and slid his tongue into her anus. Oh Christ, the girl whined, her legs shaking in response to what was being done to her ass hole. Feeling her reaction, Paul let his probing tongue work her butt hole over relentlessly for a minute or two. The girl found herself right on the verge of an orgasm as she grasped for breath, nearly falling as her legs began to give out under her. Finally showing mercy to the youth, Paul pulled back. Coming to his feet, he held her by her hips and now ran the head of his engorged cock down the crack of her ass. Stopping for an instant at her asshole, Katie held her breath expecting him to plunge into her bowel with is shaft. Instead he let his dick further down until it reached her sopping wet slit. When he reached her cunt, he immediately bent his knees to get a better angle, and then pushed his cock into the youth. Katie was so wet from his actions to her ass that he slid his entire prick into her in one stroke. Even with the slickness of her cunt, she was incredibly tight, her cunt feeling like an oiled glove around his prick. Ohhh, Christ, the girl moaned as she arched her head back when she felt the man fill her with his cock. Paul began an incessant pounding of Katies pussy. Her tight hotness gripped him as he grabbed the teen by the hips, burying his cock as deep into her as he could. Like an animal, he began humping her from behind, slapping against her ass when he was deep inside of her. Looking down, he admired the quiver of her ass cheeks ever time he came up against her. Suddenly, without warning, Paul stepped back and pulled his cock out from the grasping cunt. No, groaned Katie as she felt herself deflate from the vacuum left in her cunt. Dont stop. I want it. Fuck me. Oh please, fuck me. Dont worry, honey. Im going to give it to you, but not in the way youre expecting. Hell, youll get enough of the straight stuff over the weekend. What I have for you is something Ive been dying to do to your ass for a long time now. Grabbing his cock, the older man aimed it carefully at asshole. With the other hand on her hip to hold her, Paul nestled the tip of his prick up against her dark rosebud. Still slippery from her cunt, he gave one quick push. At first there was resistance to his invading pole. The suddenly the head of his cock learched passed her ass muscle and pushed into her bowel. Now grabbing both hips, Paul began shoving his cock up Katie shit chute. Oh no!! the teen cried as she felt Pauls cock move deeper and deeper up her ass. I cant do this. Youre too big. Youre going to tear me open. Katie head slumped forward as she felt her ass hole spread open with the invasion of Pauls prick. Continuing to hold her, Paul began to stoke his cock in and out of her ass. He noticed the girls legs begin to shiver as she responded to the attack on the butt hole. Just like fucking her cunt, the slapping sound of the joining began to echo in the shower as he shove his meat into her, his legs and abdomen slamming to her ass cheeks. Reaching around, Paul found the girls tits. He loved the feel of her cool, wet tits, nipples erect in his hands as he buried his cock into her back end over and over again. Hum, it even makes my mouth water just looking at you two. This came from Jennifer who had slipped into the bathroom and was now leaning on the edge of the sink watching the two. She had striped down to her tong and had a hand down the front of it, her fingers working on her own pussy. Told you he was good, didnt I? The only thing she got back from Katie was a grasp for air as she looked at her friend. Katie looked over her shoulder, her mouth hanging open, her dazed eyes staring back. Hang on, dad, dont blow your load. Let me get in there. You two are having all the fun. Slipping her thumbs into her thong, Jennifer pulled down and stepped out of them. Grabbing the handle to the shower, she swung it open and joined the two. Reaching up to her father, she planted a quick kiss on his lips. Get going tiger, she said to him. Fuck that little bitchs ass off. Looking down at Katie, her fathers dork buried up to the hilt in her ass, Jennifer smiled. Told you he had a big one. How does it feel? Huh? If you think youre getting a good one, give me a few minutes and youre going to know what an ass pounding really is. Looking back at her father she said, Get going, I told you. I want the bitch near tears when you cum. I want to see cum leaking from her asshole, and dont worry, Ill make sure you have enough to pump. Fighting to hold back, Paul watched his daughter reach out to the bar of soap. Taking it into her hands, she proceeded to lather them as she kept her eyes on Pauls face. Okay, you two, get ready. Stepping behind Paul, Jennifer reached down and gently covered his balls with one of her soaped hands. Leaning up against him, she slid the other between the two of them, searching in the crack of his ass for the butt hole. Okay, daddy, get ready. With one push, her finger entered Pauls ass. Ass hole to ass hole, everyone is going to get it. At first Paul couldnt make out what was going on, his prick slamming into Katie, his ball ready to blow and now Jennifers finger probing his own ass as he rode in and out of Katie. He then felt a second finger join the first. Then suddenly it hit. Jennifer found and began to massage Pauls gland. His mouth dropped open as the sensation of Jennifers fingers began to work on him. He almost lost his balance as his legs became weak. He could barely keep his cock pistoning into Katies ass hole. He grabbed her hips and held on tighter. Ahhhh! came from his lips. He was going crazy, loosing control, ready to cum like he had never done before. Beneath him, Katie didnt know what Jennifer was doing, but she could feel the reaction she had on Paul. The teen swore that his cock grew even larger than it was before. She, herself, was almost finished. If either of the other two expected her to be able to holdback, they were dreaming. Pauls prick pounding into her hole pushed her to the edge of an orgasm. She was ready to cum with or without the others. Wrapping his arms around the teen, Paul shoved his prick into Katies ass as far as he could. The first wave of cum blasted from the tip of his cock and flooded her bowel. Without even a moment to catch his breath, the second spasm blew out of his balls, through his engorged cock and spewed into Katies ass. In back of him, Jennifer could feel his balls jump and his ass clench as wave after wave hit her father. Her ministrations on his gland were having the effect that she had heard about. His orgasm was like one that she never saw before. He looked as if he was about to loose complete control. Again she felt his body spasm, each spasm forcing a long rope of cum into Katies hole. Feeling load after load pumped up her shit chute, Katie went over the edge. Now it was her turn to join Paul. Her body locked in total pleasure as her asshole locked around his attacking prick. Her pussy joined her ass as she was racked by waves of pleasure. Jennifer had heard of what would happen to a man when his gland was massaged as he came, and she almost could feel the loads of cum emptying into Katies ass. Without petering out, she watched as her father spill load after copious load up the other teens ass. Keeping her hand gently on his balls, she kept working his gland as he kept up the withering pace and poured cum into Katies butt. Slowly the orgasm passed the two. The water still falling off of him, Paul felt completely spent, both his body as a whole and his prick in particular felt exhausted. Sinking down onto Katie, the man grasped for air. Beneath him, Katie thought her whole insides had turned to liquid. Feeling Pauls cock begin to subside and its size decrease, she was able to gain her breathe. Slowly his cock oozed out of her ass. Just like a cork, when Pauls prick slipped out of Katies asshole, cum seeped out of her butt, not a drop or two, but a good load. Pulling her fingers out of her fathers asshole, Jennifer looked down and watched the ooze seep out Katies ass and over her pussy lips. Smiling to herself Jennifer said, Come on, Katie, give it a push. Knowing what her friend was looking for, Katie tightened her stomach muscles and pushed. Instead of oozing, cum squirted out of her stretched asshole and hit Jennifer on her leg. Reaching down with her hand, Jennifer rubbed it between her fingers. Hum, I hope he isnt empty, she thought to herself as she admired the gob of cum as she smeared it between her fingers. Chapter 24 Becoming a Prune (ff, lez, pissing, fisting) Slowly recovering, Paul held onto the shower bar as he tried to regain control over his own body. His legs were still weak from his orgasm. He had never cum like that before. He wondered where the hell did his dear little baby girl learn that one? Come on, Im going to be wrinkled like a prune if we dont get out of here, Paul said. Reaching out, he grabbed a towel and began to dry himself off. Jennifer and Katie both joined him and dried themselves in big, fluffy towels. Hey, you still standing? asked Jennifer to Katie. Smiling, Katie rolled her stomach muscles. I think that Im going to be leaking you dads jizz out of my ass for a while. Christ, I pumped enough into you. My nuts should be the size of two peas! Smiling at his daughter, he asked, And where the hell did you learn that one? Mike been teaching you or was it you brother? Hey, a girls got to keep a few secrets, doesnt she? Christ, you\re becoming one hell of a slut, thats all Ive got to say. Listening to the father-daughter interplay, Katie smiled. The Sharing were always fun to be around. Now with the bed bingo that would be going on in the future, she knew that there would be a lot more fun in the future. Hey, why dont you tell your dad what you warned me about before I jumped into the show with him? And what was that? Paul asked. Jen said that we could go at it later, just her and me. Looking at his daughter, Paul shook his head. Is there nothing beyond you perverted, little mind? Nothing that I can think of, daddy. However, if you come up with something, let me know. Im your girl. Jesus, Paul muttered as he wrapped the towel around himself and headed out the door. If you two dont mind, I still have those phone calls. Im going to put some clothes on and get going on them. Try to keep you mischief to a minimum. Looking at Katie who stood there bare-assed, rubbing her now well used buns, Paul said, Sweetie, your mom and dad can be damn proud of you. Im sure this weekend is going to be great for you. Youre going to have a line of guys looking to lay you. You were great. Great, Mr. Sharing. Im glad you liked me. And Jen was right, you got a dork that would make a horse jealous. Honey, I dont know about that, but thanks for the thought, he replied as he headed off to his bedroom to put on some clothes. Looking at her friend, Katie smiled and asked, Hey, you mean what you said earlier? What do you mean? About me. You know, about having a go at it, just you and me? You serious? Yes. This came with a bit of a whisper in Katies voice. Okay babe, you want to, Im willing. Hell, I never turned down a good orgasm. Looking over her shoulder at the shower, Jennifer said, Well we had lots of fun in there, lets keep it up. Come on, get in. Wait. I got to take a pee. Wait a minute. Dont be so quick. Just cross you legs for now and get in here. Jennifer entered the shower, turned it on again and reached for the soap. Christ, she thought to herself, Im spending so much time in here, Im going to look like a prune. Looking at her friend, Katie wondered about not taking a pee. As perverse as she was finding Jennifer to be, she was wondering if she was thinking of a yellow shower in addition to the two of the making out with each other. Looking at Jennifer made Katies crotch feel warm. Jennifers hair was wet and plastered to her head. Her large breasts swayed under the stream of water, the nipples at full attention. Come on, girl, get in here. We can spoil each other. Heck, no ones going to give a fuck what we do. Katie smiled at the thought. She opened the shower door and stepped inside. Jennifer stood with her back to Katie, displaying her fine ass. Turning around, Jennifers nipples touched the slim blond girl. They were stiff, and felt smooth and silky to Katie. Come on, lets be girls. Let me wash your hair. It will feel good, offered Jennifer. Okay, responded Katie. It would be fun and enjoyable. Turn around, said Jennifer. Turning around, Jennifer got a good look at Katies slim, ripe body from behind. She had a nice ass, two full ass cheeks and long, shapely legs. Jennifers nipples stiffened even further as her eyes ran up and down the others slippery wet body. Taking some shampoo in her hands, Jennifer began to rub it into her girlfriends wet blonde hair. Her erect nipples snuggled into Katies back and rubbed lightly on her soft skin as she worked the shampoo into the other girls hair. The feeling of Jennifers nipples running across her back felt marvelous to Katie. Her pussy began to needed attention so badly she had to restrain herself from fingering it right then and there. Jennifer finished washing her friends hair and now it was her turn. She turned Katie around. Their naked breasts slide into each other. Jennifer put her arms around Katies waist pulled her even closer so that both of their mons came in contact with the others. Katie gasped and also wrapped her arms around the Jennifers waist. It felt natural and wonderful. She couldn't believe how silky Jennifer felt against her own smooth skin. Come on, its your turn to do mine, said Jennifer as she slowly moved her body against her friend. Reaching over, she quickly pushed the shower head off to the side and knelt down in front of her friend. Go ahead, let it go. Katie just stared back at her. What? Lets go what? You said you had to pee, didnt you? Jen, are you serious? You want me to pee on you? You got to be kidding? Come on, Kate, let it go. Piss all over me. Hell, no ones ever done that to me and I want to try it. Come on, what do you have to loose. Its me thats getting pissed on, not you. Shaking her head, Katie turned and fully faced the kneeling Jennifer. Okay, you want it, here goes. Squeezing down on her bladder, at first a trickle escaped her which soon turned into a solid stream. Katies piss shot out of her and rained down on Jennifer. Beneath her, Jennifer felt the warm spray hit her. At first Katie was spraying across her chest and tits, but as the stream became stronger, it arched up to her face. Leaning forward, she opened her mouth. God, you fucking slut, laughed Katie as she watched her piss pour into the open mouth of her friend. As her mouth filled, Jennifer let it flow out of her mouth and down her chin, raining across her tits. Tilting her hips, Katie was now spraying her piss up fully into Jennifers face, then up to her forehead. Bowing forward, Jennifer let the piss cascade down into her hair and swooshed over her whole head. Katie was amazed at her friend. How many girls wanted to be pissed on? Laughing to herself, she looked down. What was she laughing at? Here she was, pissing all over her friend, amazed that someone would want that to happen, yet she was standing in he own puddle of piss as it flowed off her friend. As she felt her bladder slowly empty, her pissing weakened and the stream crossed back down Jennifers face and body. Turn that shower back on us, said Jennifer as she felt Katie running out of pee. First letting the water rain down on her head, she slowly stood and let the water slosh off her body. Coming to her feet, she quickly kissed Katie before turning around to give her easy access to her hair. Jennifer pushed her butt backward into Katies crotch. Where were we? Ah yes, your turn to do my hair, she said. Lathering the other while thinking of what just happened, Katie began to shampoo the Jennifers hair all the while aware of the girls ass crack rubbing her silky pubis. It felt soft and warm. She finished her hair and Jennifer turned around and clasped her hands around Katies back again, enjoying the feel of their breasts touching. Leaning forward, Jennifer kissed the blonde girl, slipping her tongue into her month. Letting her hands slip down Katies back, she grasped her ass, pulling her mons forward. Leaning to the side, Jennifer gave a nip to Katies ear, then her shoulder and began to work her way down Katies wet body. First the tits received kisses and nuzzles, then a tongue into her navel and then, down on her knees, Jennifer let the tip of her tongue run across the front of Katies cunt. Moving her hands to Katies hips, Jennifer held the girl tightly, extended her tongue and began to probe the others pussy. Katie found herself leaning against the wall, her legs spread open, giving Jennifer access to her pussy. Pulling back, Jennifer pushed Katies hips around. Come on, let me see that ass of yours. Ill bet my dads cum is still leaking out of it. Turning around and putting her hands against the shower wall, Katie caught her breath. Jennifer never ceased to amaze her. Forcing Katies ass apart, Jennifer let her tongue probe the slim blondes ass. Jesus, Katie though as she felt her body again respond to a tongue poking at her rear, these Sharings are great at working a persons backdoor. Jennifer could keep this up all day as far as Katie was concerned. Jennifer continued her anal probing. The rim was very tight and had a rough and pleasing texture. She pushed her tongue in the asshole as far as it would go, but it refused to open. She kept sticking her tongue in and out until it weakened. Spreading the rim with her fingers to make it wider, Jennifers tongue popped passed the tight anal ring and into Katies dark depths. Katie loved the probing and rubbed her clit while the other fucked her asshole. Moving her hand between the blondes spread legs, Jennifer brought her finger tips together and pointed them towards Katies cunt. Slowly she eased her hand into the tight channel, rubbing the clit with her thumb as it pushed passed the sensitive nub, then pushing further into the slick passage while never letting up on probing Katies ass with her tongue. Katie couldnt believe the effect that Jennifer was having on her. Her legs spread wider as she came up on her toes, opening her pussy even wider. "Fuck me!" she screamed down at Jennifer. "Harder!" Jennifer complied and pushed fingers right into her pussy. With her fingers disappearing into Katies pussy, Jennifer grabbed the other girls hip to hold her tight, and then drove her entire fist into the blondes tight cunt. With her fist buried up to her wrist, Jennifer fucked her lovers pussy and tongued her ass at the same time. Katie was so aroused that her clit was poking out from its hood and was sensitive to her every touch. After a few minutes Katies tiny, pink pussy was dripping juices down her thighs. Her muscles began to tense, and her cunt tighten over the invading fist. Letting out a low whine, Katies orgasm began to take over her body. Her legs buckled slightly and her body began to quiver. "Oh yes, there! Like that," she gasped. "OH Yeah! Ohmygawd! Oh... My... Yesss... God! Oh!" she screamed as she held on the shower wall, her ass bouncing up and down with Jennifers fist. Quickly pulling her tongue out of the withering asshole, Jennifer drove a finger right up Katies rectum, stroking it in and out. Using her finger as a dick, she began to gently fuck Katie's ass which only served to perpetuate her orgasm. With her head thrown back in a silent wail as the orgasm began to subside, Katie slid to the floor taking Jennifer with her. Turning to face her lover and freeing up her ass and pussy, Katie leaned forward to Jennifer and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. You have a body made for giving pleasure," Jennifer breathed as her hands stroked down Katies torso. "I've never done this sort of thing with another woman. It feels so exquisite," Katie responded as her own hand moved over Jennifers hip, then slowly down her lower abdomen to cup the mound of her friends pussy. Come on, you have me all wiped out, panted Katie as she worked her way back to her feet. Leaning against the shower stall, she sighed, Jen, don't think I've ever cum that hard. You sure do know how to get a girl off." She put her arms around her friend and when their lips met, her kiss no longer held any reservation. It was hot and passionate and filled with urgency. When their lips finally parted, she whispered, "Let's finish up here and take this little passion play to the bedroom where there's some room." The two girls dried each other off with a couple of big fluffy beach towels and as they stepped out of the steamy warmth of the bathroom, Jennifer took Katie by the hand and they made a run to her bedroom. By the time she pulled down the covers on her bed, the chill air had their nipples puckered up into hard little knots. Jennifer dove in under the comforter, scooted over to the far side of the bed and held the covers up for Katie to join her. Katie slid in between the cold sheets and snuggled right up next to her warm, lush body. Who needs men, thought Katie to herself as she snuggled close to her friend. Then thinking about it, she smiled to herself. She needs men thats who, but a girl like Jennifer makes a fantastic substitute. Hummm, she thought, I wonder what it would be to get into bed with my mom? To be continued . . .

Sharing Family Vol11 (FMm+, cons, inc, anal, oral, orgy; fMM, cons, oral) by Paco Svengali Released 08/16/2007 Synopsis of the Sharing Family Paul and Laurel Sharing along with their two teenagers, Brian and Jennifer, enjoyed the family gatherings, especially when the gatherings centered on fucking one another. After the first incestuous family orgy, Jennifer and Brian were amazed as well as delighted to learn that their parents were a part of a swingers group and the group was looking to expand its membership to include the off spring of the members. Assuring their parents that there would be no problem with doing so, Brian and Jennifer threw a pool party for their friends that resulted in a wide open orgy. During the free for all, Brian and Jennifer told the others about the swingers club and who the members were. While surprised that their own parents were a part of it, none of the teens found the idea unacceptable. Many of them went to bed that night thinking of what it would be to lay or get laid by their own mother or father. In fact, some of them not only went to bed dreaming about it, but skipped the dreaming part and actually went to bed with their parents and got fucked for their effort. With the barrier now down, a full meeting of the swingers club was called for the coming weekend. Since Paul and Laurel were in charge of membership expansion, they were the ones overseeing the event. Chapter 25 Membership Drive (FMm+, cons, inc, anal, oral, orgy) Paul was nervous. He and Laurel had laid everything out and if things went as planning, this was going to be a night to remember for the members of the club. Paul chuckled to himself as he looked at his lovely, slim wife. Boy, was she going to be in for a surprise. As they grew and expanded in the early days, so did the financial well being of its members. As a result, they reached a point in time when the membership became too large, they pooled their money a purchased a sizable piece of property that was secluded from prying eyes. They built a building on it that more resembled a lodge. It featured many bedrooms each with expansive bathrooms and a large common room. It was designed for easy maintainability, yet afforded all the luxury that one would want. The property itself faced on the ocean and had a private lake set back in an out of the way location. The ocean frontage boasted of a fine sandy beach and was blocked off on either side by large outcroppings, resulting in a beach that was very private. If that were not enough, it had a large in ground pool. With the help of their two kids, Paul and Laurel laid out the plans for this evenings events. He realized that once things start to go, there was no controlling the direction of events, but he did want the gathering to start in an auspicious manner. This was the night that all the young teenagers were to join with their parents and friends in an open meeting. Once things got going, it was understood that anything goes providing that the persons involved were there of their own free will, and could accept or decline any offers made. It sounded just fine, Paul thought, but he was wondering how he would be feeling the first time he watched his 17 year old daughter get fucked by some other guy. Would he act a casual and approving as he preached? Time would tell. As the cars arrived and people got out, Paul and Laurel greeted everyone at the front door. Hey, guys, come on it, said Laurel as Del and Carol came through the door. Paul was especially pleased to see them. Well, not necessarily Del and Carol, but their three daughters who were in tow. Come on it. Jesus, Del, this is going to be interesting for you. Three god damn women and your wife Jesus, youre supplying a harem for tonights events. Clucking, Carol responded, Actually the poor guy is going to appreciate the re-enforcements. Ever since your pool party, the girls have been jumping their father all over the house. Christ, hes been so busy with them that Im feeling neglected. Okay, get a hold of Chuck and Marge, laughed Paul. They can throw their two boys into the fray, but make sure that they go after mom, and not the girls. Thats alright, Mr. Sharing. Were planning on going after some of the other men around here tonight, quipped Chrissy as she squeezed her shoulders together, accentuating her unbridled breasts covered with a simple blouse, unbuttoned almost to her navel. Thanks for the help, said Carol. But Ill still take the two boys. Hell, what woman wouldnt want to get fucked by to studs like Pat and Andy. Turning to her family, Carol said, Come on girls. Lets see what Paul and Laurel set up for us for tonight, as she passed through with the rest of her family and went to put their stuff into their bedrooms before joining the rest of the group. Looking at the three girls pass him by, Pauls crotch gave a jerk. The three girls, Cheryl, Chrissy and Cathy, took after their mother. There wasnt a man in the club who wouldnt try to fuck one of them before the night was over. All were blonde and fair as could be. They were wearing simple clothes, short skirts or short shorts, with a simple top. And that was probably all that they were wearing. The last thing that was important for this evening was clothes. What was that all about? asked Bill as he came through the door. Del is being worn out by his in-home harem, laughed Paul. He and Bill were roommates in college. They were also founding members of the swingers club. It wasnt long after Bill and Julie were married while still in college that they both realized that they enjoyed the open life style. And who could you trust better than an old roommate. Why am I not felling sorry for the poor guy? asked Bill rhetorically. Come on over here sweetheart, Paul said to Julie. The two were always close, Paul thinking of Julie as his sister since he came from a family of all boys. Of course, Paul also thought that she was one of the best fucks after his own wife. Now looking at their youngest child and only daughter, Paul grinned and asked, Okay youngen, you think you can match your mother this evening? Katie was like her mother, tall and slim, blond and blue eyed, with tits that were small and firm. Why dont you ask my brothers? she responded. And while youre at it, you didnt mind banging me earlier this week. Katie was referring to events that happened earlier in the week when Paul came home and found Katie with his youngest daughter studying. Before he knew it, he ended up in the shower with the slim blonde, fucking her for all it was worth. Whoa! Hey, youre squealing on us, said Paul with delight. He knew that this youngster was going to go right to the top of his fuck list. As the word of the incestuous encounters began to spread throughout the club, Paul had called his old roommate to ask what Katies attitude was to the open life style. Bill laughed at Pauls anxiousness. He assured him that Katie was a great fuck, just like her mother. It was confirmed earlier in the week when Paul succeeded in getting humped by Katie in the shower. Get on in there, Laurel told the group. Stash you stuff in your rooms and join everyone in the ballroom. The only ones were missing is my brother, but then Jackie is always late. The ballroom that Paul referred to was not named for a dancing activity, but rather for the sexual activity. Or they decided to stay home and screw each other, commented Julie. No, I was talking to Susan and I know that she was hot as hell to come tonight. I think shes dying to see some of you senior cocks in action. This came from Bill Jr., the older of the boys. Jesus, what are we raising? asked Julie as she rolled her eyes. All you guys think about is fucking. Uh, mom, what are we here for? asked Katie. Okay, point made, answered her mother. Get in there, guys, Paul said. Were going to get going soon, as soon as John, Jackie and the girls get here. Looking out the door, he heard a car drive up. Wait, its them. I recognize their car. A few minutes later, Paul stood in the middle of the common room surrounded by the parents and their off spring. He smiled to himself as he watched everyone eying the person next to them. Fathers were ogling the teenage girls, while the mothers were smiling becomingly to the boys. Not that any of the teens minded. Paul could almost hear the wheels spinning as the young fresh teenage girls looked at the crotches of the old men, estimating what laid beneath, as their wives standing along side let their straps slip and their buttons become unbuttoned, exposing what treasures they had to offer. Okay everyone, let me have your attention. We all know what were here for, but before this evenings events begin, lets go over the rules. Its total open season for anything that you want to do assuming that the other person or persons are in agreement. There will be no forcing or coercing someone. This last applies especially to us older folks. Remember that the kids have as much say so in what they do or have done to them as anyone else. Looking over the gathering, he continued. When Laurel and I were discussing this evening, we wondered how best to get things going. You know, something a little more original that hollering Lets fuck. This earned Paul a little chuckle from his audience. For many of us, this is the first time that were going to swing with the younger crowd though weve thought about it, thats for sure. With that in mind, Laurel and I thought that we would start this evening off with a little seduction . . . a little temptation, if you will. Moving to the middle of the room, Paul stood before a circular bed sitting on a slightly raised platform. With gentle lights beaming down on it, the bed made a perfect stage, viewable by everyone in the room. Continuing with his introduction, Paul said, For us older folks, the idea of having so young of a group of people join the club has been a wish come true. How many times have we looked at our own sons and daughters and imagined them spread beneath us, heaving in ecstasy, sharing an orgasm? Hopefully, the young folks have the same type of fantasy, that of having sex with one of us adults, whether it be a parent or someone else. Well, tonight our dreams will be fulfilled! Looking around the room he continued. As I said, m wife and I talked about how things should be kicked off. And just to show us what lies ahead, let me start the evening in a bit of a formal way. Ladies and gentlemen, in this case I will definitely add of all ages, let me introduce to none other than my own dearly beloved wife, Laurel. Soft music began to play from the speakers spread around the room. From an open doorway, Laurel entered the room and approached the raised bed, swaying her hips seductively. As she waded through the waiting audience, a murmur rose up. She wore a thin silky top that fell just below her crotch. Tied around her waist, it was thin enough to show her full nipples through the silk, but without being obvious. Covering her sex was a stringed thong which left her buttocks completely exposed under the wrap. Both the teenagers and adults couldnt help be catch their breath in anticipation of what was under it. All this was supported by lean, beautiful legs that were the envy of every woman watching her. Paul smiled. He knew that every man in the room was getting an erection looking at his wife. Laurel was lean wasted with full tits. Like her daughter, her breasts were full, crowned with nipples the size of gum drops when aroused. They were now aroused. Reaching the bed, Laurel stepped up onto it. Slowly letting her top fall open, she kept her tits covered as she ran her hands all the way down her legs and back, exposing her ass just to drive everyone crazy. Without noticing, Brian approached the edge of the bed, facing his mother from behind. The boy was wearing only a towel draped over his lions. The rest of his body was there for all to see. It was one of youth. His shoulders were broad, his stomach flat. There wasnt a woman that didnt want to reach out and pull the towel from around his waist. Without a word, he joined his mother on the bed. Coming up behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and caressed her neck. Reaching further around, he slowly pulled the top off and let it fall, exposing her magnificent tits. Laurels sex remained covered by the thong. However, it was so small and thin that it left nothing to the imagination. Everyone could see her cunt lips through the fabric. It was also obvious that her mons was shaven bare. Spinning his mother around, Brian locked his lips on hers, and began frenching her as he held her in his arms and lowered her to the bed. Once on her back, Brian began to work his way down Laurels body, across her chest, nuzzling each nipple as he went, across her firm stomach, frenching her navel, and down to crotch. Reaching her mid section, he pulled the thong down her long legs and threw them off to the side, leaving her pussy exposed for all to admire. Moving between her thighs, he made to start sucking on her pussy. Suddenly Laurel came up to a sitting position. Pushing her son back, she reached for his towel and pulled it off. It was what all the women were waiting for. Brians cock sprang into view. It was only half erect, but it still scared many of the women in the room. It had to be at least 10 inches when erect. Reaching down, Laurel took it into her hand and began stroking it. Smiling at what was going on, Brian put his hands hips and let Laurel work on his rod until it stood fully erect. At that point he leaned forward, kissed his mother again, and pushed her onto her back. Lifting her legs, Brian spread them until her pussy was completely open for all to see. Bending down, Brian began to lick and nip at his mothers exposed clit. Everyone could tell that it was having an effect on her by the way her breath became short and her hips twitched. Spread wide open, with dozens eyes on her, Laurel could feel her twat starting to react. She could feel her pussy start to cream as he kissed and sucked on her cunt lips. He sucked his mothers meaty lips into his mouth as she strained her hips toward him. Then he drew her swollen clit into his mouth and thrust a finger into her cunt at the same time causing a small orgasm to shoot through her. Laurel responded with a low moan as her hips continued their rocking motion in response to her sons eating her pussy out. Grabbing her by the back of her knees, he pushed Laurels legs back against her torso, exposing her completely. His tongue continued its assaulted her pussy, playing across her clit, spreading her cunt lips so that he could probe into her love channel. Dropping down to his mothers tight asshole which was now completely exposed to him, he stab his tongue into it, adding to her enjoyment. Little shocks of pleasure shot up Laurels spine as his tongue probed between her legs. She knew that she was going to cum soon and wanted to feel Brian's cock in her before it happened. She wanted to feel him filling her cunt with his big meat. And she knew that everyone watching wanted the same thing. "Oh Brian, do it now! Plow me with your cock! I need it, baby! Fuck me, fuck me NOW!" You know, bitch, that I'm going to fuck you hard, don't you! You want me to pound my cock into you till you scream for more?" The language brought smiles to many of the onlookers. They knew that mother and son fucked each other, and it was done on an even playing field. Laurel wanted Brian to fuck her for real with all the accompaniments including saying what was actually on their minds. Laurel could only moan as she let the pleasure spread over body. "Fuck me, baby, fuck me!" Fuck you mother, was the only thing she could think of, the only thing she wanted! Go ahead, hot nuts. Fuck the bitch. Looking up, Laurels eyes meet Pauls. He stood over her head, bare assed, holding his hard cock. As planned, they wanted to show that the Sharings were ready for family action. It was going to be father-mother-son scene for the opening event. Without saying another work\d, Paul leaned forward and filled Laurels mouth with his cock. His hands held his wife down by her shoulders, keeping her firmly in place so that she couldn't move or speak. He started to pump his cock into her throat, bouncing his balls off her forehead. Laurel felt Brian stop sucking on her engorged pussy as he came up on his knees. Suddenly his massive cock rammed into her cunt and began to plow away between her legs. Laying on her back, one cock fucking her cunt, another cock jammed down her throat, the best Laurel could do was to garb on to the side of the bed and enjoy what was happening. Laurel felt completely full, front and back. Waves of pleasure built up deep inside her cunt and started to spread throughout her body. The cock in her pussy finally withdrew, only to be jammed back into her with a hard, deep thrust. Her body tensed and arched in pleasure. Brians hands grasped onto her hips so keep his mother in place as she thrust ass back onto the cock that was stuffed into her cunt. Only muffled moans escaped her lips as Pauls cock kept his wife from crying out. She was still filled with cock from both sides. Paul was still fucking her mouth with slow insistent strokes. His hairy balls were slapping against her as his cock was thrust deep into his wifes throat. Suddenly Brain pulled his cock out of his mother. Move over, bitch. I want you on top of me so that I can watch your tits bounce as I fuck you. Paul stepped back, pulling his own cock out of Laurels throat. Brian quickly lay down on the bed. Taking his mother by her waist, he held her over his throbbing prick. With one smooth motion, he shoved his cock up into her wet pussy. No sooner had Brians cock hit the back of her womb, than Paul grabbed her by her hair, bent her head back and fed his cock back down her throat. The two men continued once again to ravage the woman, pounding her with all their might. Paul looked down on his wife on her knees. They had planned this out together for the most part, but Paul had added some variation to it without telling Laurel. Surprise and spontaneity always made for better performances. It seemed to Laurel that the two men slowed their pace down a bit. The reason was soon evident. Approaching her from the rear where she couldnt see him, Todd came up behind them and dropped to his knees. He was naked, his cock already hard from watch the action from the sidelines. Taking one of Laurels ass cheeks in each hand, he spread her wide open, exposing her asshole. Leaning forward he opened his mouth wide open and stuck his tongue into her anus, frenching her chute. It was evident from her reaction to this new invader that Laurel was both surprised at the tongue up her ass, it wasnt a part of the plan, and enjoying it none the less. She wasnt sure who it was, but she knew that he had a talented tongue. Squirming her ass around, she enjoyed to luxurious feel of her butt hole being massaged. Reaching around from below, Brian spread his mothers butt as wide open as he could. Feeling the tongue withdraw from her ass, she felt the hot cock sliding between the cheeks of her ass. Though she was well lubricated from being eaten out, Laurel tensed in sudden realization of what they were planning to do. She squirmed and tried to arch her ass out to give better access without losing the cock still buried up her cunt. The big cock moved to Laurels ass, and she could feel the head slowly forcing its way into her tight backside. She groaned and cried out as much as she could considering the fact that she had a cock in her mouth. Then without warning, the big cock head was pulled away from her tight hole. At first she didnt know what was going to happen next. Then she felt something touch on my ass again, but this time it was not a cock. Instead it was a finger, thoroughly lubricated. Laurel felt it slide into her rear as it spread the lubrication around her tight opening and across the inside her ass, adding to the saliva that was already there. The finger that was lubing her ass felt great to Laurel. She began to enjoy it and relaxed as it was thrust in and out of her rectum. She could feel her shit chute opening up from the stroking. Then the finger pulled out of her and was replaced by Todds cock though she still did not know who was at her backdoor. Laurel could do nothing except to take the cock that was forcing its way into her backside. She felt her ass being forced open as the head of that huge cock started to slide into her ass. She moaned in pain and pleasure as she slowly but steadily felt her ass being penetrated until she completely stuffed with cock. Slowly the pain gave way to pleasure as she got used to the size of the invader. Then slowly it started to withdraw until just the head was gripped by her ass ring. As it pulled out, Brians cock, waiting patiently, responded by pushing onto her strained cunt. As the two cocks began to work together, one pounding into her as the other pulled out, Paul also picked up his speed at fucking her mouth. He thrust it down Laurels throat until his hairy balls bounced against her chin. "God, do you look sexy!" Paul whispered. "You love cock, don't you? You can feel that big meat sliding into your ass, can't you? You want to be fucked like this all the time, I can tell. Tell me how you like it, baby! Tell me how much you like our cocks!" Laurel pulled her husbands cock out of mouth and cried out in pleasure as another thrust into her ass hit deep and heightened the orgasm that was close to breaking over her. "Oh yes, baby. Fuck me! Fuck my ass with that big, hard cock! I need it! Shove that cock into my pussy. I need to be fucked!" Hang on baby, youre still not done, her husband whispered to her. In unison all three cocks pulled out of her simultaneous. Spinning her around, her ass was jammed down onto Brians cock. For the first time she could see who had been fucking her up the ass. Smiling at the now well worn woman, Todd grabbed his cock and shoved it up her pussy. The two youths quickly had their in and out rhythm back, giving Laurels ass and cunt a working out. Lean back, baby, Paul told his wife as he fed his rod back passed her lips and into her mouth for more throat fucking. Her head was thrown back and he was sliding his hot rod between his wifes lips just like he was fucking her pussy. She could feel his balls slapping against the top of her head with every thrust. They were tight and full, and Laurel knew that he was going to be shooting his load very soon. Now starting to feel exhausted at the beating she was taking, Laurel look around the room for some relief. At the corner of her eye she could see all sorts of sexual activities going on around her. But thats not what startled her. It was the man and boy on either side of her, both naked and stroking their engorged cocks. One was Mike, Jennifers boyfriend. The other was Chuck, the husband of one of her girlfriends who she grew up with. This dbut was really going to be a full rollout of every option available. All they needed was a woman to cover the gay aspect and it would be complete. As Mike and Chuck approached the bed, each took hold of one of Laurels wrists and pulled her hands to their stiff cocks. She knew what was expected of her. She hungrily grasped them in her hands and began to whack them off. Their pricks were already slimy from their pre-cum, and her hands rode over them easily. Now Laurel was taking care of five cocks, her husbands in her mouth, Todds in cunt, her sons up her ass as she sat on him, and one in each hand. She was being fucked silly and was loving every minute of it! After of few minutes of this, Laurel felt Pauls cock harden in her mouth, and she knew he was going to cum. He slipped his meat from between her lips and groaned between his clenched teeth, God, cant hold it. Im cumming! Suddenly she was bounced upward as Brian pulled his dick from her ass and rolled out from under her. Looking around herself, she was surround by four men pounding their dicks, while a fifth still fucked her pussy. From over her head, Paul threw his head back with a deep groan and let his cock spray his load all over his wifes body. The first load arched over her head and splattered on her tits. This was followed by two or three more loads. As Paul began to run out, strings of cum shot onto her chin, covering her lips and dripping into her hair. His cock spasmed again and again as he drained his sweet cum on her face! Let me, cried Brian as he lifted his leg and strattled Laurels stomach, shoving his ass back against Todd who was still fucking her. Pumping his cock, Brian spurted gobs of cum onto her stomach, chest and tits. Load after load erupted from his prick as he squeezed every drop out of his balls. Chuck and Mike could not just stand there and watch without being driven over the top. Both men held their cocks over Laurels tits as they felt their own orgasm hit. Her face and torso were covered with ropes of slimy cum as four men dumped their loads on her. She couldnt take it any longer herself. With Todd pumping away at her pussy, her orgasm hit. The muscles in Laurels hips tensed so hard that she was surprised she didn't do serious damage to the cock that was invading her pussy. Instead, Todd kept fucking her, never missing a stroke. She wrapped her legs around his hips and arched her back, thrust her pussy against the boy who was fucking her like she'd never been fucked before. No sooner had the first wave of pleasure had subsided when another, even stronger one hit her. Paul was cradling Laurels head as she was being plowed by Todds pounding cock. Her entire body was rocking back and forth with each thrust. She was grunting and moaning with every deep intrusion into my tight pussy. "Cum for me, baby!" Paul was whispering in her ear. Show the fuckers what a Sharing can do. Let them know that youre the best fuck in the house. Let that cock in your twat do it for you! I want the whole room feel you cumming. You're going to be fucked till youre delirious!" Spasm after spasm racked her body as she keep cumming. She was almost out of control, but Paul held firmly onto her until her orgasm began to subside. Finally, Laurel felt the cock fucking her pussy pull out and slap against her cum-smeared belly. It twitched and a silky stream of cum erupted from the head. It arched across her stomach and landed between her tits. Laurel forced her head up to watch it add to the loads of goo already smeared on her torso. She could see Todds balls as they contracted and forced more cum out of his cock. Exhausted, her head falling back, Paul ran his cock over her lips, the head roaming over his wifes chin and around her face as it dribbled the last bit of juice on her. You bastard, she said lovingly to her husband. Your tricked me. You told me one thing to get me up here, then did another for the group. Dont worry. Something tells me youre not too mad at me. Hell, no, Im not. To get fucked by three guys at once and dumped on by five? Not bad for an old broad like me. Jesus, I must be a mess. Dont worry. I have an answer for that, smiled Paul as he look up from her smeared face. Following his gaze, Laurel saw Jennifer standing at the foot of the bed along with Katie. Neither had a stitch on. Were here to help you get cleaned up, mom. Kneeling on the bed, the two teenagers began to lick the cum off of Laurel. Paul, you got to be kidding! she said to her smiling husband. Looking around he said, No Im not, not that it will arouse anyone. Christ, look at this, will you. No one was watching the scene on the bed anymore. Instead there were bodies all over the place, fucking, sucking or in the middle of some other sexual activity. Some women were doing one-on-one, others had multiple partners. Young were fucking old, old was fucking the young. Over in the corner, Julie and Carol were sixty-nining it with each other. In a sofa by the fireplace, young Jessica was sitting on top of Rich, facing him, and slowly burying his cock in her pussy. On the floor at their feet, Bill knelt over Cheryl while eating her out. On the other side, Tommy had his mother bent over a chair and was fucking her from behind. Well, I guess everyone gets the idea of whats going on this weekend, Paul thought to himself as he watch his daughter and her friend finish licking Laurel clean. Chapter 26 Filled Up (fMM, cons) Smiling down at her father, Joy watched him fucking the daylights out of seventeen year old Jody, Brians girlfriend. Over on the bed, her mother, Marie, was getting doggie fucked by another seventeen year old, David, while Bruce, who was one of the adults and a long term member of the swinging club, was feeding his cock down her throat. Joy shook her head. Between her two brothers, Todd and Tommy, and her dad, her cunt was plugged so many times over the last weeks that she couldnt keep track of how many times she was laid. Who would have thought that her quiet family was really a bunch of sex maniacs? Joy, like her mother, was a short blonde with large boobs that were crowned by fat nipples. While many women who were short and large breasted were also on the tubby side, this did not apply to Joy or Marie. They were both blessed with slim waists and good looking legs. As a result, Marie was always one of the popular targets at these gatherings, something that she had warned her daughter about. Completely nude, Joy squeezed down on her pussy and felt cum leak out of it. She had just been fucked by Sam whose wife and daughter were of the same body type as Marie and herself, short with full breasts, except that they were the brunette version. Sam was quickly followed by Billy, the oldest son of Bill and Julie, and who was in several of her high school classes. Wanting to wipe her pussy clean, Joy headed up the stairs, planning to use the bathroom in her familys bedroom. Moving down the hallway, she ran into John and Jody, the latter was Mikes girlfriend. Looks like youve not been a wallflower, sweetheart, said John as they approached. Whose be boffing you? asked Jody. Hope you left some for the rest of us. Well if its a load youre looking for, Id swear I have a couple of gallons of the stuff in me. As to the source, it belongs to Sam, Patricks dad, and Billy. They both were running on empty when I got done with them. Ho, listen to that humble statement, chuckled John. And what do you think you still have in you? asked Jody as reached over and cupped his balls in her hand. That grunting I heard coming from you was related to the cum you were pumping into my twat, if Im not correct. Girls, I might be old, but Im not dead. Ill bet that with a little effort some sweet young thing could coax a load out from these poor old tired balls of mine. Dont take that bet, ladies, came from Del as he came down the hall. Ive seen that fucker pop four in a row in an hour. The crazy s.o.b. is a walking jizz factory. Looking down at the well hung cock that John supported, Joy admired the sight. Four in an hour, you said? Reaching out she grabbed Johns cock. You done? she asked Jody. With him, yes? Right now I need a drink of something. You can have him, but let me know if he can do it again so soon, said Jody as she headed off, leaving the two men with the girl. Deal, said Joy. Mind if I watch. Im curious if he really can do it again so soon too, asked Del. Del had his wife and three daughters to work on him. Now if he was the one who ran out of steam this evening, everyone would understand why. It would be a case of enjoying home cooking too much. Come on, John said taking Joy by the hand. Lets just step in to this bedroom and find out if Im the real thing. Pulling Joy into the bedroom, John reached down, cupped her ass and kissed her. With Joy working on his tonsils with her tongue, his dick sprang back to life in no time. Giggling and smiling with sheer lust, Joy's eyes focused on the massive erection which was dangling before her. Kneeling down, she reached out with her right hand and grasped its base, then offered it a couple of quick pumps. Next, she cupped John's balls with her left hand and gently ran her thumb over and across the ultra-sensitive flesh. John, as could be expected, was quickly in pure heaven. Reaching up, Joy cupped her tits in both her hands and took Johns swollen prick between her cleavage. He responded by humping his hips, fucking up and down between her tits. She watched his bloated cock-head vanish in her smooth cleavage, then come sliding back out, leaving a trail of slim between her grasping tits. John tit fucked her for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of those encompassing tits on his dick. Suddenly her head went down as his prick loomed up from her abundant cleavage, and she took the flaring cock into her mouth. Enjoying the reaction that she was having on the older man, Joy let out a gagging noise as wrapped her lips around Johns engorged dick. Letting go with her tits, she sucked it all the way to the back of her throat and then bobbed her head back-and-forth on his cock in a slow, steady speed. Enjoying the sight before him, Del stepped behind Joy and sunk to his knees. Reaching around her, he cupped and squeezed her breasts with his hands while he let his hard-on press against the teenagers bare ass, slipping from time to time between her buttocks. John continued to groan as Joy sucked his cock, slowly but surely. Her alluring blue eyes stared up at him, glazed over with passion and lust. He wasnt sure how long he would last, but he knew that when it came, he was going to be blowing a solid load done Joys throat regardless of how many times he had already cum this evening. Joy continued to deep-throat Johns cock-meat, taking it all the way down her throat. His balls were bouncing off of her trembling chin as she sucked him all the way in. "Ohhh, Jesus! Suck my cock, baby! Take it all... fuck, that's fantastic!" panted John as he fought for control. He drove his prick in again as far as it could go making her gag, but she took it gladly. She then sucked back up to the prick-knob, her hot, clinging lips scraping down his cock-shaft. From behind, Del kept one hand on Joys tit while he buried the other between her spread thighs, rubbing and frigging her moist pussy. Joy worked her pussy against Del's probing hand, while still deep-throating John's shaft at the same time. Knowing the effect she was having on John and wanting to taste his cum, Joy increased the tempo of her head-bobbing motion, while she also heightened the speed of her tongue as it swirled and slid around John's erection. This hot combination caused the older man to let out an even louder groan than before. He put his hands on the back of her head and helped her keep the rhythm up as he felt his legs begin to weaken. Come on, cum in my mouth, she begged through her lips. Give it to me. Her pleasure was choked off as John rammed his cock back into her mouth, fucking her face. It wasn't too long until he screamed out. His orgasm hit him. Johns prick swelled and throbbed, then began erupting loads of cum into her mouth. He held her head firmly while ramming his hips forward and jamming his shaft down Joy's throat. He moaned with lust as spurt after spurt of hot, gooey cum was jettisoned into the blonde's thirsty mouth. Joy bobbed and opened her mouth as wide as she could, taking his cock into her throat balls-deep, then pulling back to hold just the cock tip in her lips. John continued to shoot jets of jizz as he plunged back in, spilling more spunk out as he whipped his prick back. This continued for several seconds, until the sensation of his orgasm quieted down. Finally, he was drained and slumped back, groaning. John continued slowly pumping his hips back-and-forth, emptying the last of his balls into the young woman's mouth. Joy, who loved the taste of cum, more than welcomed the thought of this older man dumping his cum in her mouth. Even after he'd finished, Joy kept on sucking, ravenous and voracious, still pulling a few last gooey threads of cum from his cock although he had stopped spurting. When she was certain that she had drained his balls dry, Joy pulled her gooey lips from his cock-knob and used her tongue to gather up the sweet spunk that had spilled from her lips and run back down onto his balls. Del watched from behind, amazed that Joy could have such an effect on John. Del knew that when it was his turn and the blonde youth wrapped her lips around his cock, he too would be in for a great blow job. Still pumping one of Joy's breasts with one hand and massaging her pussy with the other, he leaned over and whispered into her ear, Ready for another load, you little bitch? Without any hesitation, Joy let John's cock drop from her mouth and turned around toward Del. The sight of her brought a smile of lust to Del. With her moist lips closed but her cheeks puffed outward, the teenager stared passionately at Del as two gooey strings of hot cum oozed out from either side of her mouth. It was very obvious that the busty blonde still had John's cum stored in her mouth. She hadn't swallowed it yet. Joy smiled just before she swallowed the entire mouthful and licked her lips with her tongue. With two gooey strings of sperm still dangling from her chin, she used her fingers to scoop them up, then inserted them into her mouth and sucked each dry. Finally, Joy looked up at Del and smiled once again. "You are one hot, fucking girl," he told her, in a quiet but direct tone. The blonde's gaze shifted down toward his cock, which was fully erect. "You're kind of hot too," came her response, as she smiled in a teasing way. "She definitely is fucking hot," John offered, as he took a deep breath before stepping backward. His cock had deflated courtesy of Joy's tongue and lips, but the desire was still running rampant throughout it. "Fucking hot." Joy looked back at John and giggled, then focused her full attention upon Del. She gazed down at his rock-hard cock and sensually licked her lips at the sight. "I gotta fuck you, baby," Del gasped, enjoying the glorious sight of Joy before him, completely nude. "I was hoping you'd say that," the blonde grinned. Joy put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him flat on his back. His cock was fully-erect and stood up like a flagpole. Joy then positioned one knee on either side of his hips, just before she lowered her moist pussy to his bulging shaft. Looking down his stomach, the older man had the pleasure of seeing his rod aiming straight up into Joys tight cunt. "Sit on my cock, honey," he grunted. She smiled lewdly. "I thought you'd never ask," giggled the little blonde as she worked her cunt lips over Dels rod. Grasping it by the base, she positioned the head of his big cock in her tiny opening and slid slowly down. As the wedge-shaped cock-head sank in, they both moaned, Del at the tightness of her hot, snug little pussy around his shaft, and Joy at the incredible thickness of his cock as it stretched and filled her young cunt. John watched as Del's long, thick veined cock disappeared up Joy's tiny cunt. She slid down until his cock completely stuffed her. His prick was buried and his balls were ballooning below her taut little ass. As she sank down, grinding her hips, the trim cheeks of her young ass opened up, revealing the pinkly-puckered bud of her little asshole. Joy started to lift and lower her slim young hips, fucking Dels cock with an urgent, adolescent rhythm. "Easy, baby... nice and slow," Del hissed. He held her by the ass, restraining the girl from moving for a moment, then letting her slide her pussy up and down on his prick, but only slowly. Joy pulled her cunt up to his knob, balanced there for an instant, then pushed back down and took all of his pole up her tight little cunt. When his cock re-appeared, it was soaked with her cunt juices while her cunt lips were pulled outwards as she raised up. Her lovely young ass swung from side to side, grinding and churning, giving John tantalizing glimpses of the teenager's pretty little asshole as the creamy cheeks spread. Joy was getting hornier by the second. Her breathe was getting shorted as she worked on Del's big cock, sliding in and out of her tight pussy. She tried to fuck faster, but the older man held her down by her hips and stopped the sliding motion completely for a moment, holding his prick buried deep inside her. She could feel it throbbed and twitched in her. She thrust her tits into his face and he sucked her swollen nipples. He dipped a hand under her belly and fingered her clit. That was the last thing her body could handle. With a sudden scream, her body when into spasms as her orgasm hit. Her eyes opened wide and her head went backwards. Her whole cunt was racked with a climax that took control of her entire body. Seeing Joy loose complete control, still holding her by the hips, Del quickly rolled her onto her back. Reaching down and grabbing her legs, he threw them over his shoulders, opening her cunt up as wide as possible. Now he let loose with all his might. Pounding her pussy like a battering ram, Del drove into her as fast as he could. He couldnt last. His balls jerked and let loose the first load of cum deep into her slit. It was quickly followed by gob after gob of hot, thick cum. Holding himself deep inside of the teenager, he emptied his balls, spasm after spasm, until there was none left. Collapsing onto the panting youth, the two lovers just lay on the floor trying to catch their breath. Shit, you two guys almost wiped each other out for the night, commented John as he stood there admiring what he had just witnessed. He was stroking his rod which should have been limp from all expectations. Still panting from the pounding she took, Joy looked over at John. Jesus, I dont believe it. How the fuck can you get it up again so soon? Slowly coming to her knees, then to her feet, Joy eyed John. Holding her pussy while trying to stop the ooze, she said Forget it. I came here to get cleaned up. Now look at me. Both men looked at Joys fingers as cum oozed out of her pussy and down her thighs. Baby, smiled Del, you sure do look beautiful to me with that smeared up pussy. Hell, youre a walking advertisement for you own desirability. Think of it this way. If youre so full of cum, it means that a lot of guys were hot to fuck you, you must be damn good. Shit, the blonde moaned as she cupped her pussy in both her hands and staggered off to the bathroom. With that thought process going for me, I should be in the hospital by the end of the night. John and Del just looked at each other and smiled. Not that she would end up in the hospital, but they both knew that this would be the first of many trips to the john for Joy before the night was over. To be continued . . .

Sharing Family Vol12 (fM+, cons, oral; fFFMM, cons, sm, enema) by Paco Svengali Released 09/04/2007 Updated 11/25/2007: enema nozzle Synopsis of The Sharing Family In the beginning, Paul and Laurel Sharing along with their two teenagers, Brian and Jennifer, enjoyed the family gatherings, especially when the gatherings centered on fucking one another. Jennifer and Brian were amazed as well as delighted to learn that their parents were a part of a swingers group and the group was looking to expand its membership to include the off spring of the members. Now with that objective achieved, the two teenagers were joined by their own teenage friends, the sons and daughters of the members of the swingers club, in a weekend orgy at the clubs private lodge. The lodge itself was on an 80 acre secluded piece of property. It had a building on it that resembled a lodge. It featured many bedrooms, each with expansive bathrooms and a large common room. It was on the ocean and had a private lake also. The ocean frontage boasted of a fine sandy beach and was blocked off on either side by large outcroppings, resulting in a beach that was very private. If that were not enough, it had a large in ground pool. This first weekend with the teenagers was proving a huge success. All parties were enjoying the sucking and fucking, both old and young taking it every way they could. Chapter 27 Star Attraction (fM+, cons, oral) Stepping out onto the back patio, Laurel enjoyed a deep breathe in the fresh air. Things were going great so far; the evening was living up to everyones hopes. As Laurel passed through the lodge just now, she saw Marge astride Brians cock, riding it with abandon. She spied her daughter also. Jennifer was on her hands and knees, gobbling Bruces dick while her own boyfriend, Mike, was giving it to her from behind. Mike was the son of Bruce and Maryanne who she and her husband knew since college. Standing by the patio in her birthday suite, Laurel took in the scene around her. The evening was lovely with temperatures in the mid 70s. It was a situation where everyone could enjoy the outdoors and not have to worry about putting something on to stay warm. A lot of the group was out here enjoying the nights air and taking a dip in the pool. Looking over the group there was not a stitch of clothes to be found, just as it should be. Looking around Laurel saw some of the group were engaged in sex, while others were just sitting or standing around visiting one another. Under the tree, in one of the lounge chairs, she saw Eleanor getting fucked by young Andy while her husband, David, stood there and watched. In the pool, 16 year old Amy held onto the side of the pool while Bill fucked her from the rear. From across the pool, Laurel heard some commotion. Looking over. she saw a group of people standing around watching something in their midst. It was probably a couple putting on some kind of show for everyone. What do you think is going on? asked Marie as she came up to Laurel. Dont know, but it sounds like someone is getting it, answered Laurel as she looked at the gathering. Hey, rather than just stand here and wonder, why dont we go over there and check it out. At this point I need to be a looker rather than a fucker. Christ, with all the new cocks running around here, Im going to be sitting on a pile of ice for the next week just to ease the beating my pussy has taken tonight. Come on, you poor suffering thing, you. Edging around the pool and stepping over couples getting it on, Marie and Laurel approached the circle. Both men and women, young and old, were watching what was going on in the middle. At first Laurel couldnt make out what was happening. Pushing through the watchers, Laurel made out that it was Katie who was down on her knees, sucking on her own fathers cock. Bills cock was engorged, but his daughter had no problem taking the whole thing down her throat. Watching the two, Laurel couldnt figure out why everyone was standing around watching them. Was is so unusual for a daughter to be giving a blow job to her own father, especially since this probably wasnt the first time the teen had done it? Bill threw his head back and grabbed his stiff cock as he pulled it from Katies mouth. With a grunt, he aimed his prick at his daughter and let cum shoot from his cock. Pumping his rod in his fist, load after load smeared across Katies face, dribbled down from her chin and onto her breast. Holy shit, said Marie as she stood along side of Laurel. Will you look at that little slut? I just hope she saves some for us. At first, Laurel didnt understand what Marie was talking about. Then it hit her. Looking at the youth, Laurel realized that it wasnt perspiration that she was covered with. No, the little slut as Marie called her, was actually glistening with cum. As Bill finished cumming all over his daughter, he stepped back and was quickly replaced by Rich, another of the fathers. Laurel watched in amazement as Katie grabbed Richs dick and proceeded to suck him off until his balls exploded. Pulling it from her mouth, she pumped Richs prick until he sent streams of jizz onto her face. Rich was quickly followed by yet another, this time the teenager Patrick. The same thing was repeated after Patrick blew his load, this time with one of the older men. Katie brought the man to an orgasm through a combination of jerking him off and blowing him. When he came, his load was mixed in with cum that was already smeared across her face and chest. Looking around, the two women saw that there would be no end to the volunteers. Most of the men watching the spectacle were standing there with their cocks rock hard. If they were not stroking it themselves, then a woman would be obliging him by either kneeling there blowing him or stroking his rod. Christ, by the look of it, Katie was preparing to drain every last drop of cum for the entire male population. Laurel and Marie stood and watch the girl suck one cock after anther, sometimes taking the load in her mouth and letting it oozed down her chin onto her tits, and other times pumping the cock onto her tits directly. All the while she was smiling and enjoying the whole event. Once and a while, one of the men or boys who were watching couldnt hold back. He would stagger up to Katie holding his straining cock in his hand. Katie would reach out and grab their cock, curling her fingers around the shaft. Keeping her lips around the cock in her mouth, she whacked off the prick in her hand at the same time. When the newcomer came all over her, he would stagger back to where he was. She would then return to the current prick that she was in her mouth and continue on where she was before she left off. When Maries own husband stepped up in front of Katie, Marie let out a chuckle. Lets see what the old boy can do. He sure looks like hes seen better days, she said to Laurel as they both smiled. From the looks of it, Jack had been a busy man. His hair was a mess, he had cum stains matting his pubic hair, and his dick looked red as if it had seen a lot of pussy. And it was only half hard. When he came up to Katie, she quickly fed his dick into her mouth and began to work on him. It became apparent that Jack was pretty well used up. Rising up on her knees, Katie sped up her actions and pistoned Jacks cock into and out of her mouth as fast as she could. She then brought a hand up between his thighs and slid a finger between his buttocks. Jack reacted to this. He grabbed Katie by the back of her head and shoved his cock as deep into her throat as he could while the girl probed his asshole with her finger. Watching Jacks reaction to the finger up his ass, everyone watching knew Katie had found his gland as was massaging it, causing the older man to go over the edge. The teenager smiled as she sucked Jacks cock into her mouth and held him there as she worked on his asshole. Then, slowly moving her head back, letting his dick slide out of her mouth, Katie loosened her lips and let Jacks thick cum spill over her chin. At the sight of this, everyone gasped. She made Jack shoot a load even though it looked like the only way he could get it up was with a split to hold it. Smiling, Katie began to pump her head, fucking the long cock with her mouth as a steady stream of semen poured out of her mouth and onto her tits. Laurel and Marie watched in amazement as Jack groaned and sprayed a thick river of semen onto Katie when she pulled his cock out of her mouth. His shaft sprayed cum all over the youth, soaking her shoulders and tits. Katie moaned with delight as she felt the hot semen hit her skin. Finally spent, the older man laughed and staggered backwards on shaky legs, holding his totally limp dick in his hand for all to see. At this, the crowd cheered. Using the finger up the ass technique, Katie worked herself through the next six men. Immediately taking the full length of their cock into her throat, she would slip her finger up their asshole, making each one of them groan and almost instantaneously dump their load into her eager mouth. One after another, she pumped them dry. Slowly the volunteers were diminishing. She was going through all the men and boys, using them up. Finally it looked like there was no one left that felt that they could get it up. Come on, guys, she said between cum soaked lips. Anyone left, or do I have to play with myself? Looking at one another, Marie and Laurel didnt believe what they were hearing. This girl is going to be the master slut of the night. Laurel was willing to bet that there wasnt a man who hadnt been sucked off by her. You got two more, then I think you worked through the whole stable, and some of us guys even twice, and I think a one or two, three times. It was Tommy speaking. He was standing along side of Katie, his cock hard and his eyes eager. On the other side of her was his older brother, Todd. The two boys were the oldest of Maries three offspring. Nudging Marie, Laurel said, Looks like Katies got your whole clan. All except you and Joy, and I better keep an eye on you. Christ, youd do something like trying to lick Katie clean. Hold it, Laurel, Marie responded. Who the hell got licked clean by her own daughter earlier this evening? Yeah, but I wasnt a complete mess like this. Youre right. Excuse me, I got carried away with my opinion of you. It was only five guys that dumped their load on you, not a whole army, Marie joked as she rolled her eyes. A low groan brought her back to the present. Looking over to where Katie was, she saw the girl begin to stroke Todds dick. Katie felt the cock in her left hand beginning to throb and expand from her slow stroking. Looking up at Todd, she smiled sexily, running her tongue over her lips. You going to give me a present? You ready to give me that load of cum you have rolling around in those balls of yours? Can I suck it out for you? She grinned as he nodded urgently. You want to cum in my mouth? she teased as she licked the knob of his dick. Todd responded by pushing his hips forward, shoving his rock hard cock between Katie's lips. She matched his thrust with a forward movement of her head, taking the long shaft deep into the back of her throat. The youth didnt last long. His hips began to buck as his semen rocketed up his shaft, spilling thickly into Katie's sucking mouth and throat. Pulling her lips back slightly to make room for his gift, her mouth filled to overflowing. Todds hips jerked as his prick pumped load after load into the girls mouth. She looked up at the Todd in amazement as his cock continued to jerk and pour hot cum into her mouth. When her mouth became full, she let his cum spill over her lips and poured onto her tits, cascading over her chin and onto her chest. Suddenly she felt something hit her from the other side. Goo splashed on her face from her right side. Katie realized the Tommy had given up on waiting for her mouth. Climaxing, his cock began to shoot, spraying a thick river onto her cheek and neck. Katie stroked him faster, urging him on as she directed his ejaculation towards her face. Pulling her mouth off of Todd, she turned slightly and captured the last of the Tommys spray in her mouth, taking his cock deep and sucking him off. She smiled as he groaned his appreciation and she leaned forward, taking his entire cock into her throat as a reward for his patience. Holding her face steady, she allowed the boy to slowly fuck her throat as he came again and again with the same force as his big brother. The last of his cum spilled down her face and joined the other loads smear over the top of her torso. This was one thing no one expected. That one of the teenagers would suck off every man there tonight, it would be one of those events that become a part of the folklore as it is retold time after time. And Bill and Julie, Katies parents, could be proud of her. Chapter 28 The Dungeon (fFFMM, cons, sm, enema) Most everyone was done for the night. Done in more ways than one. Theres only so much sperm to be sucked out of the male organ, and by the middle of the night, most of it had been suck out and was now residing in some womans body. Whether it was in the pussy, an ass or stomach was irrelevant. The issue was that there was no more to be found. Or was there? Sitting out by the pool, Jennifer looked at her mother. Mom, is it true what I heard? Christ, around here, the more bazaar, the truer is probably is. What did you hear? There a room downstairs where things can get weird. Honey, weird describes most of the evening, dont you think? I mean, were sitting here at the pools edge in the middle of the night, mother and daughter, both nude under out pullovers, having been fucked by how man different men? And you heard about a weird room! Laughing with her mother, Jennifer responded, Mom, one of the guys says that he heard from his mother that there was a room where, if you misbehaved, you were punished. Not anything serious, the punishment that is. You know, some leather and spankings, and so on. Umm, were moving along a little quicker than your dad and I expected. Yes, theres a room. Your Aunt Jackie loves it, both the giving and receiving. The giving and receiving, what do you mean? Well your Aunt Jackie is a bit known for her kinky side. With her big butt, she loves anal action whether its something up her ass or someone working on it. You know, getting spanked. Jesus, I once saw her take two guys up her rear. Now think about that for awhile. So the room really exists, does it? Hey, dont make a big deal of it. Yes, theres a room with a few SM toys, but its not a ritual type of thing. Its there if someone wants to try something different, thats all. Youre not going to be enslaved or come out of it with any scares, or anything crazy like that. Its your basic 101 SM. Hmm. Id love to try it. Ive been fucked every way and by every guy here Id swear. But doing a little kink would be fun. Pulling herself up, Laurel said to her Jennifer, Come on, Miss Cum Bucket, lets go find your aunt. Shes the one that we need. Shell get us going. Dont know about tonight, but she can help us. The two women walked across the patio, heading towards the house. Seeing her brother, John, Laurel called to him. Hey, you know where your wife is? Yeah. Shes in the kitchen right now. Hurry and youll get her before some guy drags her off to the pantry. Thanks. Hurrying into the kitchen, Jennifer and Laurel found Jackie sitting on a stool in a blouse and panties, eating, Jack, we have a curious candidate for downstairs. Raising her eyebrows, Jackie looked at Jennifer. You mean, you want to play daddys little bad girl, do you? Come on, Aunt Jackie. After tonight, why not? Its okay with you? asked Jackie of Laurel. Remember the rules any thing with anyone as long as everyone agrees, and no one can get hurt. With a smile coming to her face, Jackie looked at the clock on the wall. Jen, you wait here until the hour. Laurel, come with me. Were going downstairs and getting everything ready. Do you have any special requests to you introduction to SM? Naw, Ill leave it to you two guys. You know what would be fun. Fun? Yeah, we know what would be fun. This latter was said by Jackie as she looked at Laurel with a knowing eye. Come on, lets get downstairs. Well fix this one up, just fine. Remember, until the hour. Jennifer walked down the stairs to the basement. She was very nervous as she stepped onto the room where Jackie and Laurel were waiting for her, both completely nude. Facing her in the middle of the room was a strange contraption. "This is a punishment bench, Jennifer," said her Aunt Jackie. "You'll be making its acquaintance in a few moments. First I want to see you out of those clothes. Come on, strip down, completely. Get rid of the pullover." "Come, come Jennifer," said her mother. "There's nothing you've got under there that we haven't seen before as well as everyone else in the house." Jennifer pulled her the pullover over her head revealing her beautiful teenage body with its ripe tits, slim hips and shaved pussy. "Hands on your head young lady," said Aunt Jackie sharply. Jennifer's hands dashed to the top of her head at the command, leaving her body completely exposed. Her breasts were firm but round with rose colored nipples and surrounding areola that were currently crinkled erect in excitement. Both older women's eyes were drawn directly to the teenager's bare protruding pubis. God, Id love to be that young again, sighed Jackie as she looked at the teenager before her. Laurel chuckled. Then to her daughter, "Ok, lie on top of the punishment bench, face down." Laurel and Jackie placed Jennifer over the bench so that her head and feet were lower than her bottom. Jackie moved around her niece, fastening the leather straps across the small of her back and around her wrists. With the leather straps fastened, Jennifer's upper body was now completely immobile. Jackie moved around the wood and leather restriction table and lifted Jennifer's legs and placed her knees over the strategically placed pegs. This left her spread open and more exposed than ever. Jennifer's view was restricted to the leather pad for her head but she could imagine what she must look like to her mother and Aunt Jackie. Her breasts hung freely below her given the design of the bench to leave her body unsupported from her shoulders to her belly. Her nipples were still hard, achingly hard as they pointed her breasts at the floor. The view from behind would be even more interesting. With the pegs and leather straps now holding her legs splayed wide apart, Jennifer could feel the air in the room waft across her spread open inner pussy lips. At least it was just her mom and aunt. In fact, looking from behind, Jackie and Laurel could see not only Jennifer's pussy lips but also between them. With no pubic hair to obstruct their view, even the tip of Jennifer's clitoris could be seen peeking from its hood. The erect clitoris and obvious moisture on the pink extended lips of Jennifer's pussy made it obvious that she was aroused by her predicament. Looking further up, Jennifer's buttocks could be seen spread wide open thanks to the over-extended position of her thighs. Her anus was light pink and crinkled shut. She probably doesn't even know it's on display, thought Jackie with a smile. Well she will soon enough. "Laurel, should we use one of these?" asked Jackie, holding up a ginger suppository. "What is it?" asked Laurel, curious. Jackie ripped open the foil packet and let Laurel smell the ginger. "It will get very hot," she said in low voice, smiling. Laurel's eyes widened in understanding. "Jennifer," she said, "Do you know why you're being punished?" "Yes, Ma'am," said Jennifer. "I know I was a bad girl and I promise never, never, never to do it again." Jennifer was willing to play along with the two adults in this game. "Well since you admit to being a bad girl, we think that it warrants a good enema." Jennifer head came up. An enema? This is something that she was not thinking about when she heard about the room. "First though," said Laurel as she patted her daughter's smooth buttock, "Your aunt is going to prepare your bottom for your enema with something that will be probably uncomfortable. 'What was this?!' thought Jennifer as she tensed up. Jackie was standing now between Jennifer's spread thighs and holding the 1 1/2" ginger suppository in her fingers. She watched the young girl's anus clench tight at her mother's warning. Jackie tickled the tip of the slippery capsule directly into the center of the crinkled anus. "Relax it Jennifer," she said. Jennifer could feel the cold slick sensation of something touching her bottom. 'What was it?' she wondered. Jennifer forced herself to unclench her bottom and as she did so Jackie smoothly slid the first inch into her anus. Rolling the end with her fingers she twirled the half-inserted capsule in the tight opening to the girl's rear passage before pushing in completely. Using the tip of her finger now, Jackie slowly pushed the suppository deep into Jennifer's rectum with a twisting motion until her finger was buried to the hilt in her rectal canal and she could just feel the tip of the suppository with her finger. Jackie slowly pulled her finger out leaving the melting capsule deep in Jennifer's rectum Taking a step back, Jackie waited for the caustic suppository to take effect. Jennifer would feel it first on the ring of her anus, she knew. It took about a minute. First Jennifer squirmed for a moment then Jackie and Laurel watched as the teenager's toes curled and her thighs squeezed the wooden pegs holding them apart. Jennifer let out a low moan as the effect of the ginger began to take effect. "Owww Mommy it's hot, take it out!" cried the young girl in a plaintive voice. The two older women watched Jennifer's anus now clench and release in a 'winking' motion as the deep seated ginger began working through her bowels. We'll be back down in a few minutes to continue," said Jennifer's mother in reply. Let that thing take effect before we go any further. Jennifer's barely heard her, the sensations deep in her bottom taking all of her attention. Jackie and Laurel went back upstairs in search of their husbands who were soon found out on the patio. What are you guys up to? asked Paul as he saw Laurel approaching. Your daughter heard about the room downstairs and was hot to try it, answered Laurel. She down there now. "And what do you two have in store for her? asked John. "She's down there waiting for her enema and spanking on that marvelous spanking bench." "Yes, Paul and I were just discussing it. He's going to give me a hand building one for us." said John. "Well it certainly does leave you completely exposed," said Jackie, blushing. Well I wouldn't mind seeing you both on there," chuckled John. "We've got someone on there now who needs her bottom warmed first," said Jackie. "Although her rectum is getting an internal warming with that suppository. When did you start using those?" "About a year ago," said Paul. "They're certainly effective." "They certainly had Jackie squirming when I used them on her," said John. "Yes, I'll bet you liked that view too," chuckled his wife as she playfully punched his arm. Interrupting the chatting, Laurel said, "We came looking for you two guys. Now that we found you, I guess we should head down and finish Jennifer's punishment. When they entered to room they found Jennifer's face was wet with tears. She was miserable. The hot ginger suppository was now completely melted deep in her bowels. She could feel the effects from just behind her belly button all the way out to her anus and her punishment hadn't even started yet! For the last ten minutes the only sound Jennifer had heard was the sound of her own breathing and whimpering leaving her nothing to concentrate on but the discomfort in her bottom. "A little uncomfortable Jennifer?" asked Jackie. Jennifer nodded her head miserably. "Well I imagine you're looking forward to your enema then," smiled her mother. Jennifer could hear the sounds of what must be the enema equipment being organized behind her. "This punishment bench leaves you quite exposed back here Jennifer." said Paul. Jennifer started! Her father was in the room and he could see everything! Jennifer felt the tip of something cool and flat stroke her inner thighs towards her pussy. It was the end of a riding crop that she had seen hanging from the wall when she entered. The flat leather tip struck her naked pussy lips gently and then rubbed lengthwise up her now soaking slit. "I can see what you mean about her pussy being bare," said Jennifer's uncle. "It leaves her even more naked than just undressed. Jennifer's head pulled up like a shot! Her thighs strained as she tried in vain to pull away from her restraints. Her uncle was here! That was his hand holding the riding crop to rub her bare! To make matters worse, Jennifer's pussy was now soaking wet with the build up of cum that was leaking out of it. Now the crop slid higher along her side, making a trail to her left breast. John smacked the tip of her hanging breast gently then again sharply enjoying the sight of Jennifer's nipple crinkling to an even more erect state. You've filled out nicely, Jennifer," said John. Though he held the crop, he didnt intend to use it. They had other things in store for the teenager. The tears were flowing freely now as Jennifer suffered the indignation of being stroked again across her naked nipple by her uncle's crop. As Jennifer laid there, strattling the bench with her ass sticking out, she felt someone else behind her. Not knowing exactly what was next, she felt the cool sensation of a fingertip suddenly probe the entrance of her asshole. With her anus and rectum on fire, she wondered who it was. A cold blob of grease was placed on her asshole and the finger proceeded to lubricate her tight brown entrance. Hesitating on what was coming next, When the four adults descended the steps, they found Jennifers buttocks clenching and releasing in a effort to release some of the agony churning deep in her bowls. Now Laurels finger applied a large blob of ointment to Jennifers anus, and was rubbing it around the brown rosette. They smiled as the teens ass rose up in an effort to seek more of the cooling relief. Laurel smiles as she teased her daughters rear opening with her greased finger. She was rewarded with a moan from the teenager as she firmly drove her entire long finger into the Jennifers ass, continuing until it was in as far as it could go. Putting her hand on Jennifers lower back, she rotated it through a full rotation causing the girl to squirm even more. Gently pulling the finger out and applying more lubricant, she reinserted it deep inside again, twisting and turning as she went. Jennifer felt the finger slip out from her anus and be replaced with something hard. She felt the tip of what must be a nozzle touch her asshole and immediately knew what was in store for her. She felt the tip of the hard, cool nozzle push passed her tight anus and into her bowel. The suppository made her asshole more open, and she was unable to resist the invasion of her rear. Laurel twisted the tip of the nozzle around her daughters ass a few times so that her ass could get used to the feeling before she pushed it in further. As her mother worked the nozzle, Jennifer realized that was a special one, not the type that was used when she had problems as a child. It was shaped differently than the ones she was familiar with. What teenager was about to learn was that this nozzle was a enema nozzle, an enema nozzle that had two inflatable bulbs. When the first bulb passed through the puckered rear opening, it could be inflated. When the bulb that remained outside was also inflated, they formed an unbreakable seal for her ass. Anything entering her bowel would remain there until the pressure was released. Jennifer held her breath waiting for the insertion of the nozzle to begin. Guiding the probe, Laurel fed the instrument into her daughters well lubricated ass. As soon as the first bulb passed the anal ring, she squeezed the inflator at the end of the device, and the bulb inside of Jennifers ass expanded. The youth heard the sound of the inflator at the same time she felt the bulb in the ass expand, soon to be followed by the external bulb. Squealing in protest, Jennifer found her anus effectively sealed. The inflated bulbs pulled her asshole wide open, but with both pushing against each other, the bulbs had formed a seal barrier to and from her rectum. The sensation made Jennifer push at the bulbs, but no amount of effort would budge the bulbs. Her ass was sealed. Now my dear, you wanted to know what went on down here, well youre learning arent you? ask Jackie as she admired Laurels handy work. Looking over to her sister-in-law, she added, Nice piece of work, Laurel. This whole thing is an improvement, she responded. The new bench makes it easier than just having someone just bend over. This puts her read in a perfect position. And with the suppository, getting the enema nozzle up her ass was a breeze. It just slid right in. Listening to the two adults, Jennifer waited the next steps. Okay, here goes. It was her own father that was going to do the actual honors. The teenager shivered in anticipation. Paul undid the clip holding the solution. Below, Jennifer felt the warm liquid flood into her bowels. She knew that she was lucky. If the adults wanted to, they could have used a cool liquid which would have resulted in painful cramps. Now it would be a case of how much she could hold. Okay baby, her father said. Show us how much you can hold. Jennifer whimpered in reply as she reacted to the sensation of the liquid flooding her bowels. Her belly slowly expanded and hung beneath her as the liquid slowly flowed into her. It seemed as if there was an endless gurgling as the bag emptied itself into her ass. An electric shock went through her body as her mother grabbed a hold of the nozzle buried up her bowel. Laurel had closed the nozzle and was detaching it from the bag. Still the wiggling of the device deep inside of her body as the hose was removed caused Jennifer to moan softly and squirm in response. Okay, we got you loosening up inside there. Now lets warm up those buttocks of yours, said Jackie to her niece as she stood directly between her outstretched thighs. "I think we still have your spanking coming. Right, Paul? Go ahead, warm up that ass of hers, he said in reply. Jennifer closed her eyes. She felt something rub across her buttocks. She could tell by the feel of it that her aunt held a hairbrush of some sort as she rubbed the bristles gently across her nieces buttocks. Jackie wandered over the naked flesh of her niece with the bristles of the hairbrush, around each buttock, down the right thigh and back up. She repeated the same thing with the left thigh. At no time did she touch Jennifers pussy. Instead she let the teen tense in anticipation and was rewarded for her effort. The lips of Jennifer's pussy were very puffed out and drooling, expecting to be the target of the bristles at any moment. Jackie reveled in the sight in front of her. The hard-bodied teen was as spread out as her body could allow. Looking down, Jackie was presented with the stretched muscles of Jennifer's thighs spread out as far as they could go. Her buttocks were also spread out due to her overextended position. The end of the nozzle and the outer bulb squeezed up tight against her asshole. Lightly tapping the end of the nozzle that was buried deep in Jennifers ass, Jackie watch her niece gasp at the sensation. The shock wave of the tiny tap ran like a shock wave down the rubber and plastic tube to reverberate deep in her overfull belly. The physical sensations running through the young girl were overwhelming and the spanking now looming in front of her was to add to the whole thing. "Are you ready for your spanking now, Jennifer?" asked Jackie. Come on, Jackie, give it to her. It was Jennifers own mother encouraging Jackie. Without a warning, the first whack sounded sharp across Jennifers buttock. Then without let up Jackie set a furious pace, smacking Jennifers rear until both buttocks were bright red. With each whack of the brush, Jennifer jerked her entire body, making her hanging tits sway back and forth in rhythm with the paddling she was receiving. The entire sensation enveloped Jennifers body. Each smack of the brush was like fire to Jennifer, searing her ass as it was smacked time after time. The warm water was stretched her belly as though she was pregnant. The bench restrained her in the stretched out spread open position, exposing every intimate part of her body for anyone to examine. The ginger suppository and the insertion of the nozzle had left a deep stinging warmth that she could still feel deep in her rectum despite the water that had flowed into her bowels. The sealed nozzle was still inflated both inside and outside, stretching Jennifer's anus as far as it could go. Finally the spanking and the teasing of the nozzle left the youths entire body covered in a sheen of sweat. Laurel, watching her sister-in-law deliver the spanking, was proud of her daughter. Jennifer whimpered and moaned from time to time, but she never really broke down from the beating she was taking. Looking over at Paul and John, she chuckled to herself. If either of their cocks could get any bigger, theyd rupture. Both men watched the scene in front of them in a state of total arousal. Neither had a stitch of clothes on as the stood there and stroked their engorged cocks. Ropes of pre cum drooled out of the tips of their cocks. Suddenly the spanking stopped. Both Jennifer's and Jackies breaths were coming in ragged gasps, the former from the sensations running through her body, the latter from the effort of the spanking that she was administering. Passing a hand over her nieces ass, Jackie could feel the heat coming off of it. Looking down, she could see Jennifer's redden clit. It was erect, peeking out of its protective hood swollen and achingly hard. Taking the brush, she brought the bristles close the shaved swollen mons. Feeling the sharp bristles move down her buttocks toward her wet pussy, Jennifer inhaled in fear of what was to come next. Using the bristle side of the brush, Jackie reached as far up as she could and gently stroked down from the top of Jennifer's bare slit along toward the bottom. This was all that the teenager could stand. "Noooo" moaned Jennifer as she felt her control slipping away. It became too much for her. The bristles dragging along her swollen slit, pulling at her clit, drove Jennifer over the edge. Her orgasm seemed to start deep behind her naval button, deep within her water-filled belly. Jackie tapped her finger against the end of the nozzle as Jennifer's hips bucked and struggled with the onset of her orgasm. Jennifer strained at the ties. She was out of control with her orgasm, screaming as she came. Her cum oozed out of her cunt, her eyes rolled up and she groaned for all she was worth. Her pussy was on fire. Watching her daughter loose control brought a quiver to Laurels pussy. She watched as her Jennifer had an orgasm that was incredible. Seeing Paul fight to maintain his own control as he stood there and beat his meat, she nodded to him. Without any hesitation, he stepped in front of his daughters screaming, open mouth. Grabbing her by the hair, he shoved his cock right down her throat. It wasnt a question of fucking her mouth, but an issue of where was he going to dump his load. With only a few strokes in and out of her mouth, Paul clenched his ass together and let go with a load of cum. Just as it was going to spew out of his cock, he pulled out of Jennifers mouth and let her have it in her face. Pumping load after load, he smeared his cum on her face, in her eyes, on her cheeks, and across her lips. As soon as Paul was done, John pushed him aside. Barely able to hold back, he ejaculated as soon as he aimed his straining cock at his nieces face. Holding his cock, John let loose with his load of cum, adding to the load that was already smeared there. Ropes of cum hung from the teenagers face and pooled on the floor beneath her. Coming down from her orgasm, Jennifer felt like an exhausted whale, her belly extended, her cunt seeping juice from her orgasm. I think we are on the last leg here, said Jackie as she slowly deflated the bulbs and pulled the nozzle out of her niece's ass, gazing at her little jewel of a puckered asshole, a jewel she especially adored, looking so good nesting between those deeply tanned, perky buttocks. "What now? Ready to go?" Jackie asked. What Jennifer tried to do was to hold it in as long as possible. She began to like the feeling when she began to get cramps, the growing discomfort mixed with the certainly that delicious relief would soon follow. "I better go now. Please let me up," Jennifer gasped, turning to looking back at Jackie who just kept tenderizing her bottom. Jennifer was now breaking out in a sweat. "Just a little more," Jackie said wickedly, catching on that forcing Jennifer to retain her enema was part of the excitement. She released Jennifers ties, letting the teenager stand on wobbly, unsteady legs. Her father, Paul, couldn't help noticing that Jennifer, who normally had an athletically-toned, flat washboard stomach, looked as though she could've been a few months pregnant. He realized it was the enema that was bloating her like that, making her stomach suddenly seem so appealingly rounded. Unplugged now, Jennifer immediately rushed to the toilet. Jennifer, always an eager exhibitionist, an idea. She held it in another few moments as she lifted herself off the toilet seat and turned around before lowering her bottom back down, that bottom now facing all four of the adults. Jennifer then reached back to hold herself open, vividly exposing her anus. "Here goes," she said, as suddenly the enema rushed out of her in a torrent. "Oh man, I don't know why, but that just looks so sexy," Laurel said, unable to keep her eyes off the explosive cascade. "Glad you think so," Jennifer said, eager to show off, knowing how obscenely lewd all this was. She was amazed. Finally, after a few false starts and stops, the enema was expelled to the last drop. Now Jennifer reached over to clump up some toilet paper. "Let me," Paul said, grabbing Jennifer's wrist, taking the toilet paper from her. "Let me wipe that pretty little bottom of yours. Lord knows, Ive done it in the past." "Sure, go ahead, wipe my ass, wipe off my shit hole" Jennifer giggled, sticking out her bottom provocatively as her father worked the toilet paper between her buns and wiped her. The whole idea of her father cleaning her ass after she just shit out an enema brought a quiver to Jennifers thighs. There, your cleaned, Paul said shortly. Pointing to the corner of the room, Jackie said, That. Now get over there and take a shower. Youll be good as new. Shortly, coming out of the shower and drying herself off, Jennifer asked, Oh, daddy, that felt so good. What do you have for me next? As she spoke, she reached over to her aunt and squeezed her hand. Oh, dont think that youre done for, interjected Jackie. Theres definitely more to come for you, love. Definitely, said her father as he went over to the door and opened it. Come on, guys. I think round two is about ready to begin. Suddenly a whole group of men came quickly into the room and grabbed Jennifer. Standing overlooking the water, watching the waves lap against the shore, Paul and Laurel stood arm in arm watching the sun rise. Well, we did it, said Laurel with a smile in her voice. What do you mean? her husband asked. Oh, just everything. You think that last night went well? Yes, theres that. The evening itself, then Jennifer taking all that was given to her. But theres more. Now that we have the kids, and the club has a second generation included, everything is looking great from here on out as far as Im concerned. Who would have ever thought that things would turn out so great, agreed Paul. Looking off to the left towards one of the rock outcroppings, they could make out a couple fucking. Isnt that Brian/ Yes, it seems to be, answered Laurel. Looks like hes making Marie a happy woman. Hum, give you any ideas? Ideas? With all this young cock running around here, you still want an old fart like me? Hey you, Im taking about love, not fucking. Come on, take your old wife up to the room and make love to her, will you? Smiling down at his beautiful wife, Paul gently took her hand and guided her back up to the house. Come on. Lets try some of this loving stuff. The End

Warning.! Adult Material - Adult Themes - Adult Content - Warning.! This material is copyrighted. Oscar Hargraves 2011. This is a work of Fantasy and Fiction. It is NOT a true story and is not based on any known facts. Any resemblance between names, places and characters in this story to anyplace or anyone, living or deceased is purely coincidental. The author does NOT support or condone the behaviors portrayed here. This work is copyrighted and you do NOT have permission to copy, post or use this for any reason except your own personal reading pleasure. Copyright Oscar Hargraves, 2011. By continuing to read beyond this point you are guaranteeing: 1.) You understand the above statement and agree to the limitations below. 2.) You are NOT an agent of the government, 3.) You are not affiliated in any way with any law enforcement agency, 4.) You are not breaking any laws in your area by reading this material. The Incident with Pollyanna - MW oral anal reluc Let's call her Pollyanna. That's not her real name of course, but sometimes I like to look back and remember her that way. A woman of intelligence and power, Polly commands the respect of her community. She is a dynamo of activity and organization on any given day. She's also a manager, writer, organizer, supervisor, teacher and leader. Unlike some of the Subs I've read about, Pollyanna is bright, articulate and intelligent. I finally got to meet Pollyanna eight months ago when I was on a trip back East. Now let me make something perfectly clear here. Polly was not a fashion model or a beauty queen. She wasn't the `knock `em dead' raving beauty that so many of the writers today claim to have met. Instead she was what I term a `real' woman. Yes, she carried a few extra pounds, (don't we all?), but what Polly did have was the best attitude and the most beautiful smile that I have ever come across. She could look into your eyes and it felt like she was looking right into your soul. When she saw someone she liked her face would light up, and, it seemed, so would the room around her. The world was a better place when Pollyanna smiled, at least as far as I could tell. We had met online and chatted with one another many times. I had always sensed that there was something special in this lady and I wanted to know more about her but her career and her personal life was far divergent from mine so I never felt we would meet. Then two years ago I retired from the airline I was flying for and took a job as a corporate pilot flying a twin engine Beechcraft KingAir and hauling executives all over the country. One day after I'd been there about 14 months, I was assigned to fly the CEO and his party to a large city near the eastern seaboard. As I was flight planning for the trip I realized that this would put me less than 100 miles from the lady I chatted with so many times on the computer. I quickly logged on and sent Pollyanna a note saying I MIGHT be in the area and was she free to have dinner with me IF I could make it? The flight was uneventful (the very best kind!) and we landed ahead of schedule. The boss said he would be there at least three days and maybe four. Since this was early Friday evening, I was told to be back at the airport and ready to pick them up the next Tuesday morning by 9 AM. I quickly called back to our corporate offices and told the scheduler the situation. He said that it was cheaper for the company to have me stay there rather than fly all the way back and then return next Monday or Tuesday. I, in turn, suggested that I could fly up to a field where an old friend of mine from the military lived about 65 miles away and park the plane there at no charge. Since this would also save the company some money, both in aircraft parking and hotel bills, he was quick to agree. I called my friend and got permission to land and park in his hangar. He also volunteered his extra car for me to use if I wanted to do any sightseeing. This I quickly accepted but failed to mention the only sight I wanted to see was less than an hour away from his home and airport. When I called Pollyanna after I landed she was excited and pleased to hear from me. She assured me that she definitely was free for dinner and was starved so would I please hurry. She said she had to grab a shower and she'd be ready when I arrived. My trip was short and quick and in no time I was standing at her door. She answered my knock and for the very first time I actually laid eyes on this wonderful lady. The key word here is `eyes'. The first thing you notice about her is the sparkle in her beautiful eyes as they dance merrily. Then the large winter coat that was wrapped around her full figure. I will admit though that my eyes did stray and come to rest on her marvelous cleavage and those warm soft mounds of flesh that were partially visible inside the overcoat. As my eyes returned to hers I saw her blush and knew that she had seen my stare. She invited me in and informed me that she was running a little late. She had just gotten out of the shower when I knocked and had thrown on the coat to come to the door. She still had to dry her hair and get her make-up on. As I followed her thru her house and to the door of the bathroom, I quietly slipped the present I had brought her onto her kitchen countertop. I knew of her love for crme liquors and had stopped to pick one up as a special gift. I was pleasantly surprised when she entered the bathroom and removed the coat without closing the door. Her smile was a little nervous at doing this so soon as if she was afraid it would give me the wrong impression, but her eyes watched me and spoke of trust and love as only a true Submissive's can. I won't bore you with the details of dinner. Suffice it to say that we talked about everything. By the time the meal was done and the wine was flowing, we were discussing more personal things. As I drove back to Pollyanna's house I noticed her looking at me in a way that I hoped meant a great weekend was forthcoming! We walked up onto the old porch and I stopped to give her one more chance to bid me goodnight and send me on my way. Instead she unlocked the door and we entered her home without another word. As she closed and locked the door behind us my heart skipped a beat and I walked back over to face her. I stared into those eyes and slowly leaned down to kiss her warm passionate lips. My kiss was returned with interest and I soon had one hand sliding down the outside of the back of her blouse to the small of her back. As I kissed her lips my fingers played a symphony on her spine and danced along her back. Her arms both went around my neck and her kiss became an invitation. I slowly pulled away long enough to look her in the eyes and ask, "Are you sure this is what you want?" Her answer was to lean into my chest and kiss me again. At this point I knew that this was going to be a dream come true. I kissed this lovely woman back with a passion and that passion was fanning the fire that was quickly building in my loins. My hands found the strap of her bra through the fabric of her blouse and began working the clasps. As my fingers deftly unhooked the bra I felt her melt into my arms even more. This woman knew what she wanted and I knew that I was about to experience something wonderful and very special. With a shy smile Polly pulled away slightly and lifted her blouse over her head. Next the bra slipped from her shoulders freeing those wonderful large breasts with their firm nipples. The shy smile continued as she took my hand and led me off to her bedroom. There she quickly removed her skirt and stood before me with only her panties on to hide her womanhood. I knew from our conversations, both online and on the phone, that she was timid about her body. She felt she wasn't pretty enough, that she was too fat and that no man would want her. Boy I have to tell you; all I could think about was how lucky I was and how much I wanted to show her she was wrong. As I stepped in to kiss her again I felt her hands start to reach between us and unhook my belt. Soon she had my zipper down and a soft warm hand was sliding carefully into my pants. My excitement was obvious to say the least. That hand found my shaft and long soft fingers wrapped themselves around the length of it. As my pants slipped to the floor I released her and unbuttoned my shirt, which I let fall to the floor. My hands were now able to explore her beautiful body. The soft mounds of her breasts felt absolutely wonderful as my fingers ran over them and squeezed their warm flesh. A soft sigh escaped her lips as I pinched and twisted her dark brown nipples and helped them grow even larger. Polly's eyes were closed now and she was standing perfectly still as my hands continued to abuse that soft flesh. Without waiting I leaned down and took one nipple in my mouth while I rolled the other one back and forth in my fingertips. I could feel her heartbeat increase and knew that she was liking this attention. With my left hand on her right nipple and my mouth on the left one, I let my right hand trail down her tummy and across the front of her panties. The heat there was exciting but I knew there was more. My hand moved gently around the back and again starting dancing along her spine. Not hard now but softly and gently accentuating the sensations I was inflicting on her breasts. The hand would travel around her back, down her spine and around to the front again. On one of those trips the fingers encountered a very wet area in the front of the panties. Without stopping my gentle assault on her breasts, I carefully slipped one side and then the other of her silk panties down until they slid below her knees. Then I pushed them to the floor as I carefully backed her up to the foot of her own bed and turned her around. Pollyanna was and is a true Sub. Without releasing my hard cock she slowly lowered herself to a kneeling position in front of me. Her back was straight and her head slightly lowered as she stared at the hard piece of man-meat in her right hand. I noticed her tongue slip out and wet her lips as I took a half step forward. Her mouth opened and quickly engulfed the head of my throbbing member. Pollyanna was an experienced cock sucker who loved her work. Her warm soft lips closed over my manhood and began to move up and down the shaft while her tongue moved about underneath and explored all along the bottom of my shaft. Polly never looked up. With here eyes closed, she now had both hands on me. One hand was holding my balls gently as her wonderful mouth worked on my hardness. She used the other hand to reach around my waist and push or pull my back so that my hips were moving forward and back in time with her head as it bobbed up and down. In no time at all I could feel the heat rising in my loins and I was fighting to maintain my control so I didn't blow too soon in her marvelous mouth. Polly sensed my attempt at control and redoubled her efforts. She was determined to have my seed. On one trip down my shaft I felt the head of my cock slip past the entrance to her throat. The next pass was the same but the third time down, Pollyanna had her nose in my pubic hair. As if it was completely natural and easy, Pollyanna was deep throating me. Her warm lips would slip all the way down my shaft and grip my erection as her head raised back up again. A half a second later she was sliding back down with my hard meat going all the way into her throat. Then her lips would close and she'd repeat the process. I was in heaven. Just when I thought it didn't get any better, she pushed my hardness all the way into her throat and held it there. Then her soft tongue slipped out and she started caressing my balls with her tongue while my cock was planted deep in her throat! That was it. I couldn't stand any more. The heat that had been simmering and rising in my body turned into a volcano. My hot molten lava streamed up the tube racing from my balls up the shaft and leaping out into her mouth and throat. She sensed the flow as it started and bobbed her head up and down to help it while never letting my throbbing cock slip from her throat. I felt like I had exploded inside. I shot one hot load of man-juice deep into her pulsing throat followed quickly by two more. As my third load slid down her throat, Pollyanna pulled back and tightened her lips around my shaft. I knew she had to breathe and forced myself not to grab her beautiful hair and drive myself back down her throat to that place of awesome warmth and sensation. After grabbing a few breaths through her nose and without having her lips ever leave my cock, she was again in motion. This time her mouth was slowly sliding up and down as she licked and cleaned every inch of my slowly dwindling hardness. When her lips finally left my cock and it fell free in the warm air, I felt like I was now within this wonderful lady's spell. I had Pollyanna stand and kissed her firmly to show her how much I had loved what she had done. Then I used my hands to guide her body around until she found the bed behind her and melted down onto it. She slid up a short distance but was stopped by my hands on her knees. Her eyes fluttered open questioningly but closed as she saw my smile. Now it was my turn. My hands slid along the outside of her thighs to her knees and then to the inside of her calves as I lowered myself down and kneeled at the foot of the bed.. My fingers were again at work moving, caressing and playing along her skin. To this I added the soft touch of my breath as I gently leaned forward and inhaled the aroma of this woman. My warm breathing left a trail along her thigh and up to her nether regions where is moved the few tiny hairs above her neatly trimmed pussy lips. I sensed her breathing intensify as my lips found her thigh and my tongue started tracing a path along the inside of her leg. Back and forth, up and down first on one leg and then the other I was carefully worked to build her excitement. Her rapid heartbeat and motions told me that I was indeed getting to her as the tip of my tongue found the top of her love nest and flicked gently at the small hard nubbin that was protruding there. As my hands separated those wonderful thighs, my tongue probed deeper into the heaven that awaited there. Gentle flicks and sharp jabs, followed by swirling motions and long hard deep probing with my tongue soon had her wreathing on the bed. My thumb and forefinger held her open while my experienced tongue stretched and reached for, but not quite to, he `G' spot. The combination was enough to send her over the top twice in rapid succession. Before Polly could recover from her second massive orgasm I climbed on the bed and drove myself fully into her hot wet cum-box. She grunted as I drove myself home and then wrapped her arms around me. The velvet glove that is her pussy wrapped itself around my hard cock and immediately started squeezing it in a rhythmic manner as her after shocks coursed through her body. Again I looked into those glorious eyes and saw so many things there. Love, trust and longing were there, as well as her submission and desire. As I kissed her passionately I began to thrust in and out of this woman whom I had waited so long to meet, I knew I was going to have trouble controlling myself and my orgasm. Already I felt the need building and the desire to shoot a huge load of hot man-juice deep into her waiting loins. I was determined not to do this until I was sure she was cumming again too so I worked slowly, concentrating on moving side-to-side and up and down as well as in and out. I lifted one hand off the bed and started to squeeze one of her lovely tits while I suckled hard on the other one. The moans that were escaping her mouth told me that I was on the right track and soon I felt her hips join with my mine in that age-old rhythm that has driven men wild since the dawn of time. Now her feet were back on the bed and she was using them to raise her hips and meet each of my thrusts with a counter-thrust. Her tight pussy would open to allow me access and then squeeze shut as I tried to withdraw. The result was a milking motion on my hard cock that had me ready to cum in a very short time. As Polly's head rolled back on the pillow and her breath got shorter I knew she would soon be on her way to that place that only a woman can go. I carefully continued to work on her soft lovely breasts, first sucking one nipple and then the other while I drove myself in and out of her hot womanhood. It soon became clear that her orgasm was rapidly coming. With a renewed vigor I started to drive myself even harder and faster into her tight cunt. I raised myself up on both arms to allow her to breathe and to get better leverage as I drove my hard cock into her with wild abandon. Faster. Harder. By now the bed was rocking back and forth and bouncing the headboard off the wall with an awful thunking sound. That sound only partially covered the noise of my hips as they slapped into hers and I drove my hardness deep into her body. Just when I knew I couldn't hold out a second more, I felt Pollyanna start to shake and shudder. Her pussy gripped my raging cock like a soft vice and her eyes rolled back into her head as she shot up the ladder of her climax and burst through into Nirvana. As she was reaching her peak I felt the heat of my desire begin its trip from deep in my loins. It came racing up through my throbbing cock and shot out in huge spurts coating the inside of her womb with hot sticky man-cum. I held my cock there, deep in her body and enjoyed the sensations of filling her with my love-seed. As we both came sliding back down into reality I felt that warmth and glow that only comes with total satisfaction. Day two: Saturday Pollyanna woke to a pleasant surprise. I had made us both a breakfast of crisp bacon, eggs over easy, toast, juice and, of course, lots of coffee and had it ready when she woke up. Since we had never made it to our dinner date last night and had barely had to energy to shower before collapsing in bed, we were both famished by now and ate hungrily. After breakfast we dressed and went out for a ride so she could show me around the town. I have to admit that I don't remember much of what she showed me. I was too busy just staring at her and reminiscing about last night. When we stopped for a late lunch at a small restaurant where everyone knew her, she introduced me as a `friend who had stopped for a visit' and everyone seemed very pleasant. By 3 PM we were both tired and headed back to her house. We decided to watch some TV but there was nothing on we wanted to see. Soon we were snuggled up on her bed and she was dosing off to sleep. Polly came awake about 7 PM with a start. At first she couldn't figure out why she wasn't able to see anything. Then she tried to wipe her eyes and found that her hands wouldn't move! She quickly realized that her wrists and ankles were securely tied to the corners of her bed frame and she was lying flat on her back, blindfolded and helpless in the middle of her own bed. I watched her lick her lips and try to decide whether to scream, call out for help or wait to see what would happen. The latter seemed to win out as she visibly calmed herself and waited to see what would happen next. Like I've mentioned, Polly is an intelligent woman with smarts and savvy. We had talked online several times about some of the BDSM things that we liked and wanted to try. In `real life' she is always in control and smart enough to be both a great leader and a friend to her employees, but she had said that she liked being a bedroom Sub/slave. Now I wanted to see if she would be willing to take that further and try something new. I watched the emotions flick across her face as she assessed her situation. There was no panic, no screams and no crying. She quickly assumed a `wait-and-see' attitude. With a slight smile I watched this from the comfort of my chair. I was slowly spinning the handle of the small feathered toy I had in my hand. Careful not to make a sound, I watched and let Pollyanna stew for some time. She didn't know if I was in the room, in the house or completely gone and I think this was what started getting to her. When I had determined her stress level had risen enough, I very quietly got up and approached the bed. With just the very tip of the feather in my hand I started tracing lines along her body. Soft, slow gentle motions produced a feeling similar to a large housefly walking on the skin. This I moved about never working in the same place for long and being sure that she could not predict where it would come next. After about 10 minutes of this I very quietly picked up my whip that I had waiting on the bedside table. Now understand that my whip is not for pain, at least this one isn't. This is a leather whip which is made of soft red suede and has about 20 laces. These laces now replaced the feather tracing lines around on Polly's lovely soft skin. As they moved across her breasts I noted the hardening of her large areolas and the way her nipples seemed to jump out with excitement. Her face and neck were now included as my attention moved about her helpless form. As the tips of the whip slid slowly across the lips of her labia I noted that her excitement was already evident from the moisture there. Now I replaced the whip with my fingertips. Slightly more pressure but only just enough to touch the skin and heighten sensations. Fingers traced paths around her nose and eyes, down her smooth throat and across her lovely breasts. Now they worked their way down along her belly and towards her nether-region. Never moving fast but not quite stopping either. The inside of her thighs received special attention as I moved in closer and enjoyed the pleasure/pain that I saw on her face. Gently I leaned in and flicked my tongue across her hard nipples. This got an immediate reaction as a long gasp escaped her lips. Using the very tip of my tongue I traced a line down her tummy and around the outside edges of her labia. Careful not to touch the pussy itself my tongue continued down along her left thigh and then back up. This was followed by an identical treatment of her right thigh. By now Polly was wreathing and begging. Her skin was on fire and her nerves were at the edge. Desire was evident in her every move as I worked my magic on her poor body. She was begging for me to fuck her, begging for me to put my fingers or my cock into her, begging for release. On the next pass my tongue moved across her hot pussy and flicked the hard exposed nub of her clitoris that protruded there. Polly jumped and wreathed some more. When I did this again I lingered a few moments and flicked her clit back and forth with my tongue. Then, without warning, I stiffened my tongue and drove it deep into her hot wet box. In seconds poor Pollyanna was out of control. Her senses that had been on fire before were now running on overload. Her body bounced and seethed as my tongue worked inside her and she would have been begging still but she couldn't catch her breath enough to speak. In only moments her orgasm was upon her. I reached up and softly pinched her nipples as the flood of emotion and sensations washed over her and she reeled off in ecstasy leaving a shaking then limp body behind on the bed in front of me. I was carefully lapping up every delicious drop of the wonderful nectar that had been streaming out of her beautiful cunt. Slowly, softly I continued to do this until every drop was gone and she was completely clean. As her after shocks subsided I watched as this beautiful woman returned from her first climax of the day and gasped for breath. Giving her only a few minutes to recover, I started playing with the engorged lips of her pussy again. My fingers worked across the top and then one at a time started to spread her open and enter her hot wet box. With two fingers inside her I reached up and quickly slapped her on the tummy. The shock of this caused her to flinch and buck which drove both fingers into her as far as possible. These I now bent upward and folded in such a way as to find her `G' spot. Now I flexed both fingers back and forth; sometimes together and sometimes separately. The result was an immediate reaction. Polly's poor pussy started to lubricate even more with her hot juices and her body was again wreathing about in the restraints. Now my fingers were going in and out as well as moving around inside. Her body, which had never fully recovered from the last orgasm, was now well on it's way to another. I knew this was going to be a big one. Polly was taking a long time this time to build up this time. I was pretty sure that she was on her way to a massive climax that would completely take over and use all of her energy. I continued my assault on her tight little cunt with one hand while the other found her nipples again. This time I crawled up on the bed alongside her bound body and started to kiss her panting lips while I regaled her tight box with my fingers. As I leaned down and sucked one of her hard nipples into my mouth rolling it around with my tongue and chewing ever so softly on the areola under it, I gently and carefully slipped my smallest finger under her box and began poking gently into Polly's tight back door. We had talked before about the one time when a Dom had tried anal sex with her. He had pushed her over and jammed his meat into her virgin asshole with no lube and no preparation whatsoever, expecting that as a Sub she would simply take this treatment and do what he wanted. She had told me how much that had hurt and how she had cried for hours after that terrible assault. She had also thrown him out and never seen him again. I was determined to show her that it didn't have to be that way and she could enjoy being used there too. At first she tensed up just a little but then the other sensations that were flooding her senses took control and she relaxed allowing my finger to slip all the way into her ass. During this time I had not let up my attentions on her tight pussy. My fingers bent and curled as they drove in and out of her. As I felt her orgasm growing and building to its peak inside of her, I opened my mouth and gave her my first order. "Cum!" I told her. "Cum now and cum hard!" That was all it took. This was the final straw. The dam burst and Pollyanna started gushing out her reply. I believe she would have been screaming but her breath was ragged and short. Her hips bucked against the invading fingers within her hot wet cunt and sensation overwhelmed her body. Polly was shaking and bucking as her climax peaked out and she slipped over into a state of mental and emotional bliss. She had entered that Nirvana that only a woman can find when she is totally and completely satiated and satisfied in every way. Day Three: Sunday I was awakened Sunday morning around 9 AM by the smell of hot coffee and fresh biscuits. I could here Polly singing to herself in the kitchen as she shuffled about making our breakfast. It struck me as funny when I realized she was singing `Devil Woman', one of my all-time favorite Marty Robbins songs. I stayed on the bed listening quietly for several minutes thinking about this woman and the way she made me feel. My little friend was awake too, with my thoughts affecting him, so I slipped out of the bed and headed for the shower. After her huge climax the night before Polly had simply collapsed and fell into a deep sleep. I had covered her up as I snuggled up to her back. When I finally fell asleep we were cuddled up like two spoons with my arm over her and my hand holding her breast. I noted the damp towel in the bathroom as I turned on the shower and slipped into the stall. Obviously Polly had gotten up earlier than I thought. My shower didn't take long. I lathered up and washed my hair; then I rinsed off quickly and stepped out onto her shower mat. Just as I did, I heard the door open and Pollyanna was standing there with a fresh hot cup of coffee for me. I smiled and dropped my towel as I reached for the cup and her eyebrows went up in mock surprise. Well what did she expect? She's was standing there with a thin, almost sheer nightgown on with her gorgeous tits sticking straight out at me. One look and my little friend was raising his head for a look too! Polly smiled seductively and said that breakfast was ready. Then she turned and walked out letting me glimpse the nicest little wiggle of her cute ass just before the door slid closed. That glimpse and her smile started more ideas spinning around in my mind. In no time at all I was dry and heading for the kitchen, coffee cup in hand. When I arrived I found that my place was set and a breakfast with those wonderful biscuits was already on my plate. Needless to say, I dug in with enthusiasm. We ate and talked and laughed. I loved the twinkle in her eyes when she looked at me and the way her hair shadowed her face just enough to make her look beautiful. Gawd, I was thinking; I'm really beginning to fall for this lady. Everything she did was a turn-on to me. After breakfast Polly started to wash dishes while I worked on my third cup of coffee. She was about halfway done when she suddenly turned around as if she had made up her mind about something and sat back down across from me. She sat there and looked into my eyes for several seconds before saying anything. I sensed that this was one of those times when silence, at least on my part, was golden so I said nothing and stared back into her face. Finally she broke the stare and looked down at her hands in her lap. "I don't exactly know how to say this," she stammered. I sat there and said nothing, waiting for her to get up the nerve to continue. It seemed like an eternity passed but I'm sure it was only a minute or two. Then Polly looked up again, looked deep into my eyes and said, "I want you to fuck me in my ass." Now it was my turn to not know what to say. Lust was already running through my thoughts as I remembered that cute ass wiggling in front of me this morning. Yeah I know some guys would say it was too big, but I didn't think so. In fact I thought it was gorgeous! Then the other memories came flooding in like a torrent of flood waters rushing in to ruin everything. Polly and I had been writing and talking for several months. She had told me about the one and only time that she had had anal sex. It seems this creep that called himself a Dom had been having sex with Polly for awhile. One day, without warning and without preparation he had simply bent her over and rammed his hard cock up her virgin ass. When she had screamed and begged him to stop, he had only laughed and continued to use her. By the time he was done and pulled out poor Polly was in severe pain and crying. Luckily she is a smart woman and saw the writing on the wall. She never allowed that fool to get near her again and made sure to pass the word out on that website that he was no Dom. She had told me that she would never let that happen again and would never do anal sex; at least not for a very long time! So you can imagine my surprise and shock when she said this to me. Polly was still staring into my eyes waiting for some sign from me. As my head reeled and my thoughts gathered back into my skull, I realized just how scared she looked right now. Without a word I pushed back my chair, got up and walked around the table to where she was sitting. I looked down into her beautiful brown eyes that were so full of emotions right now as her mind raced with the reality of what she had just offered to do. I put out my hand and waited as she took it and stood up. I pulled her close to me and held her wonderful body as she shook ever so slightly for several minutes. Then she seemed to relax as if she had made the decision to go through with this no matter what. She was definitely one of the bravest women I had ever met. A thousand thoughts all try to crowd into my head at once. Polly knew how much I liked anal sex. We had discussed this many times online and even once or twice on the phone as we talked late into the night about how she should do this, but what now? I knew about her bad experience and I knew she was hoping (praying? depending on? afraid of?) it happening again. I thought quickly about my overnight bag. Yes there were several condoms in there and I was pretty sure I still had a tube of anal cream that desensitizes the skin. That would be okay if she had some good lube to go with it. The problem was getting her to relax enough to even try this, because I was sure she was scared and nervous. If she didn't relax then we would have a repeat of her past experience with Dom X and I most definitely did NOT want that. All of this and more flashed through my mind as I looked into Polly's eyes. Now I saw the trust there. The fear was there too and no small amount of trepidation, but I knew she really wanted to try this. I wasn't sure if she was doing this for her own reasons or if she felt like she owed me something for the past 36 hours and wanted to pay a debt. I only knew that this would be a one-time, chance-in-a-lifetime shot at something that I had wanted since I stepped through her front door. I led Polly back to her bedroom where I started kissing her again. She was returning the heat of my kiss two-fold and soon my little friend was rising up to see what was going on. I guess he knew he would be needed and wanted to get ready. My hands slid down Polly's back and across her round ass. Then they traveled back up her sides with one stopping at the small of her back to massage the tight muscles there. The other one continued up and the fingers slid through her hair pulling her head even closer to mine as she opened her mouth and our tongues danced divinely together. Now my mouth was working its way down along her neck and then to those two wonderful boobs that I loved so much. Polly raised her arms and let her lacy nightgown slip to the floor. The her hands were behind my head pulling me closer to her breast as I suckled and licked on one then the other with abandon. My hands were still roaming all over her body, sometimes gently and sometimes firmly, working to heighten her sensations. Pollyanna released her kiss and slid slowly down my body kissing my chest and stomach as she went. When she arrived on her knees, her soft fingers wrapped around my manhood and started to caress it. She opened her mouth and, using the very tip of her tongue, began to tease the head of my cock with tiny flicking motions. Then her eyes looked up into mine and she slowly and carefully swallowed my entire length down her throat. She closed her eyes and began sliding up and down my shaft using her talented tongue to lick and move about the underside of my cock while she moved her head up and down the shaft. In a very short time she had me fighting for control so I wouldn't download a huge cum-shot into her hungry mouth. At this point, with some regret, I reached down and gently removed my throbbing member from her mouth. I helped her stand up and then laid her down on her back across her own bed in such a way that I could return the favor. I started out by licking and nibbling my way down her body paying extra special attention to those two wonderful tits that I had grown to love. I worked my way down her legs and finally across her hot pussy lips that were already dripping with desire. My tongue slid between her labia and traced circles around the inside before finding the growing bud of her clit. I slid that hard nubbin into my mouth and sucked it gently while my tongue continued to dance about inside of her. I was thoroughly enjoying the reactions I was receiving as Polly arched her back and tried to force even more of her hot dripping pussy into my mouth. By this time I knew Polly was really turned on so I carefully slid one hand around and began using my finger in her pussy. When that finger was wet and slippery I would take it down to the brown puckered hole just below and run the finger around and around there. Then back up for some more lube and repeat the process. The first time I did this I felt Polly tense up as my finger worked around her anus, but she soon relaxed and continued to enjoy the treatment my tongue was giving her hard clit and wet pussy. On one trip my finger slipped inside that backdoor and started to work around inside. Gently.... Very gently I moved about, stretching her ever so slightly and getting her to relax and enjoy the feelings. By the3 time Pollyanna had gotten over the initial shock and had relaxed enough to start enjoying the feelings, she was well on her way to a huge orgasm. I continued to work my tongue inside of her sweet tasting cunt while the fingers of one hand pried her lower lips open to give my tongue even better access. At the same time I slipped one hand out from between her legs and reached across the bed to the night stand. My hand worked its way into my case there and extracted the tube of cream that was near the top. Without missing a lick I removed the cap and squeezed a generous portion of the cherry flavored cream onto my finger. Then that finger eased back into position and began applying the cream in and around her tight rosebud with that finger finding its way deep inside of her ass and working the cream all around the inside of her opening too. Now it was time to get her relaxed while the desensitizing cream worked its magic. I renewed my oral assault on her pussy and started licking her with a fervor. My tongue flicked her clit and I dove in and drove my tongue deep into her hot box trying unsuccessfully to reach her cervix inside. Polly was thrashing around on the bed now moaning and humping against my face. Her hands had come down and she had a hold of my hair pulling me deeper into her as she wreathed and climbed her way to a heart-stopping orgasm. Then it was upon her. Her legs went stiff and then flexed as she grabbed my head even tighter and came hard. I continued to use my tongue around the inside of her womanhood doing everything I knew she liked to make this a huge orgasm. When her climax finally stopped and she was having those little `after-shocks' that a woman can have after a really good orgasm, I slipped out from between her legs and looked up at her. Gawd she was beautiful. There is nothing prettier than a woman with that glow about her that comes from a experiencing a huge climax. I knew I couldn't wait too long. My little friend was not interested in waiting either as her danced and throbbed below. I carefully rolled Pollyanna over onto her stomach and let her legs slip off the end of the bed. Her wonderful ass was poised there in front of me just begging to be fucked. I knew that while Pollyanna was still off in Nirvana from the huge climax she had just had, I had a better chance of getting into her lovely ass without hurting her. Quickly I reached into my bag again and got one of my lubricated condoms. I was sure this would make me slipperier and less likely to cause pain as I went in. With that on, I lined up behind her and took myself in hand. Using my hand to guide my throbbing meat stick, I carefully lined the head up with the entrance to Polly's almost-virgin asshole. I pushed slightly and felt the resistance there as her asshole puckered and spread trying to accommodate my girth. That cream must have been working because I soon felt the head of my dick slip through and into her dark tunnel without causing her to cry out. I stopped long enough to calm myself. I wanted to drive into this woman and use her hard and it took all of my willpower not to do just that. She knew what was happening and by now the glow and wonderful feelings of her orgasm were being replaced by the feeling of fullness as I pushed slightly deeper into her behind. Slowly and ever so carefully I worked my love-rod deeper into poor Pollyanna as I felt her butt loosen its tight grip and relax ever so slightly. When I bottomed out and felt my pubic hairs against the cheeks of her ass, I stopped and stayed motionless for several moments while Polly adjusted to the feeling of my hard cock deep in her nether region. Then I pulled back slowly feeling the exquisite sensation of her asshole gripping my cock like it didn't want it to leave. With only the head still inside, I started back down pushing more and more of myself into her bottom. This I repeated at least ten times going as slowly as I could force myself to do and each time allowing poor Polly to adjust to the sensations. After ten (maybe twelve or fifteen?) times I received a wonderful surprise. As I was slowly pushing back down into Polly I felt her raise her hips slightly and push back into me. Then she turned her head to one side and asked to go a little faster please. I was more than willing to accommodate this desire and I started to friction in and out of her beautiful ass faster and then faster still. I was also feeling her humping up against my driving pecker as she tried to push her ass up and get my meat ever deeper into her tight butt. Now more than ever I wanted to let loose and just fuck her tight ass without mercy. And now more than ever I forced myself to control my speed and not hurt her. I was so wrapped up in what I was doing that I didn't hear her at first when she asked me to cum. Then she said it again. "I want you to cum in my ass. Please cum inside my ass and fill me with your hot spunk." That was it. I couldn't wait anymore. I started fucking her beautiful ass for all I was worth. Pollyanna grunted a couple of times and shifted her position slightly as I increased my speed and drove ever harder into her tender brown hole. I was so close but I wanted to hold out longer. I wanted to feel that wonderful tight sphincter as it opened and closed around my throbbing cock. I wanted this ass-fuck to last forever. My seed was rising up from deep in my balls. I felt it as it pushed upward and started its journey and I felt it as it rushed up my shaft. Then I felt it as it streamed out of the head and shot deep into her hot brown tunnel coating the sides with my cum. I kept fucking her ass and driving my cock into her as my need was fulfilled and a second short spurt of man-cum followed the first into Polly's sore abused ass. As my orgasm finished and I spun back down to reality, I realized that Polly was lying there smiling at me. She hadn't cum or had any kind of an orgasm; that would be too much to ask from her on the first time, but she did seem to have enjoyed the anal sex and that smile told me that she might be willing to do this again too! My muscles seemed to give out and I collapsed on the bed alongside of her with only enough strength to roll over and hold her in my arms. In moments I was dozing off. I vaguely remember the soft touch of Pollyanna's hand in a washcloth a few minutes later as she removed the condom and washed me off. I awoke again just before noon to the sounds of Pollyanna busy at her computer. She had a string of songs playing on the computer `jukebox' and was working humming along to the music. I noted that she was dressed this time so I quickly donned my clean clothes from my overnight bag and walked out into the dining room where her computer sits. When she saw me she smiled and asked if the `old lazy bones' had gotten a nice nap. I assured her that I definitely had and I was now famished. She stopped what she was doing and said she'd make something right away. As she got up to go to the kitchen, I stopped her, wrapped my arms around that body that had given me such pleasure and smiled at her. I said that since we were both dressed, why didn't we just go out? She thought that was a marvelous idea and skipped into her bathroom to brush her hair and add some morning make-up. While Polly was doing this, I thought about where we should go for lunch. I had wanted to take her someplace special but this didn't seem like the right time for that somehow. When she came back into the room a few minutes later she had this wonderful smile on her face that absolutely melted my heart. I decided right then that I would do almost anything for this woman if I could just keep seeing her somehow. We headed out in her car with the windows down and the warm breeze blowing in our faces. I told her to pick a place and she surprised me by driving into the local drive-in restaurant. We parked away from the other cars and ordered burgers, fries and cokes like a couple of teenagers. We talked about everything there in that burger joint parking lot. I asked for her feelings about me and was she glad I had come this weekend. She smiled in that special way she has and the twinkle in her eyes gave me my answer before she opened her mouth. I also asked her if I had done anything to upset her or make her afraid. I was concerned about this since I remembered becoming quite aggressive a couple of times when I was turned on and fucking her. She assured me that I was fine, she was fine and she had enjoyed being the object of my lust and desires. As we ate I decided to ask her about something else I needed to know. I hedged a little bit but finally came right out and asked her if she had enjoyed the anal sex. She confided that she was pretty nervous about that at first and that she was glad that we had gotten her so excited and made her cum before we tried it. Now she felt that she really didn't mind the anal sex so much and wasn't nearly as scared of it because we did it that way. In fact she thought that maybe we should try it again before I left for my plane tomorrow! The rest of the conversation centered around our thoughts and desires for the future. Needless to say, we went back to her house that afternoon and continued where we had left off. For the rest of that day and night and into the next morning I spent every waking minute with lovely Pollyanna in my arms. We made love in the kitchen by the stove and in the dining room with her lying on her table and me standing at the end. I had her on her knees in the living room while I watched the Weather Channel that night. She sucked and licked and loved my hard cock while I tried to see what flying would be like Tuesday morning. Of course we did it in every position, in every hole and in every way we could think of in her bed that night. Day Four: Monday morning: Monday morning came around all too soon for me. I rose and snuck into the bathroom without waking Polly. Then I made a quick trip to the kitchen and started some coffee for us. When I returned to the bedroom I stopped for moment and looked down on this lady that had changed my life so much over the past three days. She was asleep with her long hair around her face and the soft smile of an angel on her lips. I knew we didn't have a lot of time since she had to get to work sometime this morning. I leaned down and kissed her softly. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at me with a look that felt like someone had just turned on the sunshine in my life. Then she said, "Good morning darling" with her soft voice that made me want to melt. I slipped my arms around her and kissed her as I held her tight. Our kiss turned passionate and soon I felt my desire rising like a volcano in my soul. I rolled onto the bed beside this lovely lady and took her in my arms while I continued to kiss her sweet soft lips. I wanted her again. I was fighting it because I knew she needed to get to work, but I wanted her so bad. My desire must have been quite apparent as my little friend rose up to greet her too. I kissed her and then started to pull away saying that I knew she needed to get going or she'd be late for work. With an impish smile she asked me what time I had to leave to get back to my plane and pick up the boss. I told her that I could leave anytime before four and I'd be just fine. Her smile grew even bigger as she reached over alongside the bed and picked up her phone. She told me that her assistant could handle things today and she was just going to take the day off to see how he would do with out her! Footnote: I returned to my friend's house and spent the night there having a couple of drinks and talking about old times together. He noted that I seemed distracted and I told him I was concerned about the weather for the trip home. In fact I had called the weather service and gotten a weather briefing that I could expect a few clouds and no turbulence at my chosen altitude going West. That poor weather briefer had to repeat parts of his briefing a couple of times because my mind was elsewhere. The next morning I did my pre-flight inspection twice to be sure I hadn't missed anything and chastised myself for not being 100% into my job. I used the short flight back to pick up my boss and his party to become a professional pilot again. When the boss climbed in and I swung the door closed he asked if I had a good weekend or was I bored to tears. I assured him that my weekend was just fine and I wasn't bored at all. In fact I had visited an old friend not too far away and made a new friend too. Little did he know just how special that new friend was to me!

Blind Date by Telephoneman. 'Please Dad!' My son pleaded. 'Do your own dirty work.' I replied for the fifth or sixth time. 'It's not my fault. It's Tess's. As usual.' He moaned. Tess was his older sister and as was usual with my eldest child, she was trying to organise his life for him, whether he appreciated it or not. This time she had arranged a blind date for her single brother and had bullied him into agreeing to meet one of the sisters of a work colleague of Tess. I could hear her oft-repeated excuse for her meddling. 'He's twenty-five and needs a woman in his life.' Steve and I agreed with Tess in that a girlfriend would be a nice addition to his life, but where we disagreed, was her role in the process. 'I forgot Stoke were at home tonight.' He continued moaning. 'Stoke' was Stoke City FC, his main passion. I was not too surprised he'd forgotten; when Tess 'persuaded' people, they soon became so bewildered that they could easily forget their own names never mind anything else, plus our local football team rarely played on a Friday evening. At first, he was just going to stand the poor girl up but I wouldn't hear of that. I insisted he turn up, even if it was to explain that it was all a mistake. Steve was too much a coward for that, and, it also meant that he would have to miss the start of the match. Instead my son was trying to talk me into meeting the girl and apologising for him. 'You usually go down the Museum on a Friday anyway, and that's almost in 'castle.' He explained as if I didn't know. Our nearest town was 'castle, short for Newcastle-Under-Lyme, not the famous Newcastle of the Geordie's in the North East but a small town at the north edge of the English Midlands. My weekly visit to the Museum wasn't the cultural event it sounds, as the Museum is the name of my local pub and lies just on the outskirts of Newcastle's town centre. Eventually I gave in and agreed to meet his blind date and offer his apologies. To be truthful, I did feel just a little sorry for him because even I knew how hard it was to stand up to my daughter at the best of times never mind when she considered that she was 'helping' you. 'You owe me big style!' I cried after him as he ran out the house just in case I had a change of heart. 'Cheers Dad! I won't forget!' I laughed inwardly. Steve will have forgotten before he reached his car. Ten minutes later I rang his mobile phone. I could almost hear his sigh from here as he realised who it was. 'You haven't changed your mind have you Dad?' He asked dejectedly. 'No! But a name and place where you're supposed to meet might prove useful.' I said laughing at his discomfort and our mutual forgetfulness. Steve laughed too. 'Sorry Dad! I suppose you're right, although the idea of you walking around town asking girls if they're waiting for a blind date has a certain appeal to it.' 'Don't push it.' I said more sternly than I felt, as his comment was typical of our families' sense of humour. Steve then told me that the girl's name was Mandy and he was supposed to be meeting her below the Clock Tower in the high street. She was tall with long blonde hair and would be wearing a red top. Not much, he admitted, but it was all he knew. Ninety minutes later I was standing below the said Clock Tower looking for a young woman that met Steve's description of Mandy. A few matched the tall blonde bit, but none stopped long enough to warrant approaching. The only woman who was hanging around was quite petite with long dark hair, although she did have a red top on. She was also obviously waiting for someone so after ten minutes I tentatively approached her. 'Mandy?' I asked. She looked up at me; I was nearly a foot taller, and said. 'Steve?' The question in her voice echoed my own. 'No, but I am here on his behalf.' I explained. 'Ah! That explains why I didn't think it was you.' She said, her voice now strong and confident. 'I'm Claire.' She saw the puzzlement in my face and went on with a small laugh. 'I'm here on behalf of Mandy.' We talked for a few minutes with me explaining who I was, and truthfully why I was there and not my son. Claire laughingly told me that she was here for almost the same reason; Mandy didn't have anywhere else to go, but felt that she too had been bullied by HER sister into meeting Steve. Mandy was a shy girl, who had a thing for another man and although she had yet to do anything about it, she did not want to spoil her chances by being seen with someone else. She had been stood up in the past and did not like it at all, so she had no intention of doing it to someone else and had persuaded Claire to come in her place. 'Why you?' I asked. 'First, I'm unattached and secondly Mandy knows that I have a mind of my own and that I'm quite capable of telling a man to "piss off" if that's what's required,' she smiled before adding, 'and it usually is.' I returned her smile, but I was old enough and, I believe, wise enough to know when to keep my mouth shut, besides I was not too old to remember what young men are like around attractive women, so the comment was probably well warranted. 'So what were you hoping for tonight?' I asked, more to make conversation than the desire to know. 'Hoping for? I suppose a nice meal with good conversation and an attractive man to look at.' She answered with a grin. 'What I expected was some lout, looking for a quick lay, for the least outlay.' Once again I found it difficult to argue with her expectations but was compelled to try and defend my sex. 'I'm sure some men are like that but I'm sure Stephen isn't.' As I spoke I saw Claire's eyebrows rise so I corrected myself, because I actually thought my son was just like that. 'OK! He's not that bad.' I was enjoying talking to this young woman, so I decided to prove that some men were honourable, if not many young ones and of course, prolong our conversation. 'I'll tell you what,' I began, 'how about two of your hopes instead of your expectations?' 'Sorry?' Claire responded, unclear as to my meaning. 'As an apology for my sex, I will supply you with your nice meal and I hope I can provide reasonably stimulating conversation but the handsome face to look at will have to depend on who's sitting at the next table.' This time she laughed properly, lighting up her eyes. Without hesitation she said, 'you're on.' We swiftly agreed that a Thai restaurant a few minutes walk away was the ideal choice, so we set off. Playing the gentleman to the hilt, I offered my arm to Claire and was surprisingly pleased when she hooked her own arm through it with another laugh. 'I've never done this before,' she commented, indicating our linked arms, 'it makes me feel a real lady.' I turned and smiled at her. 'Deservedly so! For the rest of the night that's exactly how you will be treated.' The smile I received was enough to make my evening and I still had the meal to look forward to. Obviously, by now I had also looked at Claire as a woman. As I said earlier, she was slimly built, about 5' 5" tall with long, almost black hair, held away from her face with a silver hair clip. Her lower legs were shapely but her knee length coat prevented better inspection. Her eyes were grey/green and quite large for her elfin face, which itself was beautiful and adorned with minimal makeup. I felt extremely proud to have this young lady on my arm when we entered the restaurant. My one complaint was that no one I knew witnessed the scene. Inside I continued the gallantry, pulling her chair back for her and standing whenever she did. The removal of her coat enabled me to further appreciate her, this time the shapely figure enhanced by a subtly patterned black blouse tucked in a simple black skirt. A slender red belt, colour coded to her lipstick, emphasised her equally slender waist. I also loved the way her hair flowed about her as she moved. The overall effect was pure femininity. I was amazed that she was unattached. On the whole it was a good meal made memorable by the company. I could easily see why good conversation was high on her wish list, for she revelled in it; agreeing and disagreeing with equal passion. She listened as well as she talked; a rare combination. A number of times Claire's laughter and beauty would bring me an envious look from some other man in the restaurant. After ten years of the single life and almost six of complete celibacy, a topic that amused Claire no end, I remembered just how good a woman's company could be. OK! I wasn't kidding myself about any relationship but I did bask in her reflected glory. Our conversation touched briefly on Mandy and Stephen and what we both believed they were missing, but I knew, as I'm sure Claire did, that if either or both had been in our places then it was unlikely to have worked out as well. One of the reasons Stephen had capitulated was because he was told Mandy was blonde with big tits. For all her beauty I knew he wouldn't have looked twice at Claire - his loss. A few times during the evening I almost reached for her hand, as if we were on a real date, but each time I managed to restrain myself. It was as close as I got to overstepping the mark. I learned some, but by no means all, about my delightful young dining partner. She was twenty-six, almost thirty years my junior, single through choice and with no current boyfriend. Although she'd mentioned that when we'd first met, I found that, unjustly, I was pleased about the last snippet. She lived at home with her widowed mother and worked as a graphic designer. When, eventually, we left our table, I insisted on paying and it was only when I explained that I could put it through my company as an expense that she finally agreed to let me. I was delighted when; reaching the street Claire immediately hooked her arm through mine as we headed towards her car. I desperately wanted to ask her out again, but was well aware of the huge age difference. I didn't want to make a fool of myself nor embarrass Claire, after all she had given me no hint of being anything other than passing friends during the evening, so I decided to keep quiet rather than risk spoiling the evening. I would leave our relationship to my fantasies. As we approached her car it occurred to me that I was walking slightly differently; I was standing more upright and had my chest, if not actually puffed out with pride then pretty close. Once more, I was relishing accompanying this attractive, and as I had by then discovered, intelligent, young woman. We talked for a long time at her car, as if neither of us wanted to end the unexpected delight of the meeting. Finally, after thanking me yet again for paying for the meal, Claire reached up and pecked my cheek before getting into her car. She started the engine of her Mazda MX5, a typically young woman's car, opened the window and said. 'Next time the meal's on me!' She was watching my eyes closely as her words sunk in, or to be more precise two of the words sunk in, 'Next time'. When it did, she simply smiled and drove off leaving me standing there with my jaw dropped and mouth wide open. The walk back home was a daze; dare I even hope for something more than an occasional meal with Claire. As usual I dissected my thoughts and analysed them individually. The first thing I worked out that my main attraction to Claire was NOT sexual. I had been without for long enough to know that. I knew that I there was a physical attraction, but no more than I'd had for many other women over the last few years and I'd had little inclination to pursue them. For a reason all my self-probing couldn't fathom I just wanted to be with her, where was irrelevant. As per usual in my life's dealings with the fairer sex I had absolutely no idea what Claire thought or wanted. I was confident enough in her to believe that she wanted to see me again, but the when and especially the why, totally escaped me. A sleepless night left me none the wiser, so I decided to play it cool, or at least attempt to. Of course I failed miserably. Every time the phone went, I dropped whatever I was doing and rushed to it. Logic told me that Claire didn't know my number but it didn't stop me hoping. Typically I had calls from every Tom, Dick and Harry that morning. The only one of those numerous callers worth listening to was my daughter phoning to check on Steve and Mandy's evening out. Initially she was mad at her brother for chickening out but became at first, amused, and finally hysteric with laughter when I explained Mandy's substitution and the following events. I must admit to not mentioning just how much I'd enjoyed myself. My daughter gave me enough stick as it was without me providing more ammunition. An hour later I related the story once more when my son eventually managed to rise, with a similar mocking response. Stephen reckoned I owed him for 'fixing me up' as he called it. We laughingly agreed to disagree on that. The rest of the day passed without note and come the evening I began to think that Claire had, in the light of a new day, had second thoughts. Sunday passed the same and by now I was sure that I would not hear from Claire. I was sad about it, but not upset, as I could not blame the young woman for not following up a date that wasn't, with a man twice her own age. I awoke on Monday morning with my mind half-filled with the cherished memory of Friday, believing that was all I would have of Claire. At work, as at home I have a reputation for taking the proverbial, it is just my sense of humour I suppose, so that day, not being prepared to give my colleagues an easy chance to rag me, I kept quiet about Friday and when asked about the weekend, I claimed it had been as dull as ever, which was true if you did not count Friday as the weekend. I got home, late as usual, to find my daughter and son sitting waiting for me. For my son, this was normal, he lived with me after all, but my daughter, I rarely saw her during the working week. Before I had even had time to remove my coat Tess showed why she was there. 'What did you actually do Dad?' She asked. 'Do?' I asked back, puzzled by her appearance and the question. 'Yes! Do?' She repeated impatiently. 'On Friday!' She explained seeing that I still had no idea what she meant. It took a few moments to realise that she was talking about Friday evening and Claire. The first thing that went through my mind, perhaps helped by my daughter's insistent question, was, 'had Claire complained that I had done something to her?' Before I could think more about that I automatically defended myself. 'Do! I did nothing. I didn't even touch her.' I exclaimed a little too loudly. Tess looked exasperated and Steve was laughing, but he managed to explain. Unlike his sister, and probably because he was male, he didn't assume that I instinctively knew what was in his mind. 'Don't worry Dad. Nobody is saying you did.' He was still laughing and did so even more when he looked at Tess and added, 'and I don't think she would have complained if you had.' Tess too, seemed to find this amusing. 'So what's this all about?' I demanded. After working all day I was not really in the mood for riddles. Tess calmed down a little and said, still smiling. 'Apparently Claire has not shut up about you all weekend. According to Jen, Claire reckons you're the best thing since sliced bread.' 'Jen! And who is Jen?' I asked. 'Jen is Mandy's sister, the one I work with, you know, the one who helped set up Friday night.' Tess then had a little laugh. 'Although, of course! That was supposed to be between Steve and Mandy, not you and Claire. Anyway! Jen reckons that Claire reckons that you're the nicest man she's ever met.' She looked at me then with a grin continued. 'Which of course just means she doesn't really know you yet. That, or she's only knows complete bastards.' 'Cheers!' I said, but for the first time since arriving home I was actually smiling. 'Anyway Dad,' Stephen chimed in, 'just what did you do to have such an impact on her?' 'Yes Dad! What did you do?' asked Tess too. 'Nothing special! We just went for a meal and talked.' 'It must have been more than that,' complained Tess. 'Not really; when we first met she complained about men being after only one thing,' I looked at Stephen and he just grinned inanely, 'so, I did make an effort to treat her like a lady.' 'Whatever it was really worked,' Tess said. 'When are you seeing her again?' 'I don't know.' I answered honestly. 'You ARE seeing her again?' My daughter half asked, half demanded. 'I don't know.' I repeated. 'Do you want to?' Tess asked, serious for a change. Before I could reply, my son said with another grin. 'Of course he does Sis, you should have seen his face Saturday, it was like the cat that got the cream.' I thought for a moment, not whether I wanted to see Claire again, I already knew that, but whether I wanted my kids to know. I knew their amusement was not spiteful so I decided on the truth. 'Yes I would like to see her again. However she is a bit young for me or I'm too old for her, whichever way you look at it.' 'So are you going to ring her?' Tess demanded to know. 'Difficult, as I don't have her number.' I answered sheepishly. My two children looked up at the ceiling, then at each other before simultaneously saying 'Parents!' Tess immediately took her phone out and dialled a number from her phone's memory. 'Hi Jen!' She began, 'Have you got Claire's number?' She waited a few moments then said, 'OK! Talk to you in a few minutes.' I looked hard at Tess and asked, 'Are you sure you don't mind? Claire is younger than you, you know.' 'Cradle snatcher!' was her reply. A few seconds later the tune to 'The Addams Family' filled the air, signifying that her mobile was ringing. Tess grabbed a pen from the shelf and started scribbling on an old envelope. 'Thanks Jen! I'll ring you back when I get home.' 'Give me your mobile!' my bossy child ordered. I complied, expecting her to enter what I assumed to be Claire's number into my phone's memory. This she did, then immediately rang the number, listened until a reply was heard then handed the phone back to me. As soon as I'd stuttered a grunt that was close to 'Hello!' Tess grabbed her brother's arm and pulled him out of the room, shutting the door behind them. 'Hello! Who is this?' Claire's voice asked confidently. 'It's David!' I replied, my spirits rising at the sound of her voice. 'Oh hi! I'm glad you called.' Claire said; her words lifting my spirit yet higher, then adding with a smile in her voice, 'you took your time though! I was beginning to think you didn't want to.' I then had to explain my doubts and worries, all of which were laughed away by Claire. Finally, she, somehow, got me to admit just how much I did want to see her again. I think she was rather surprised, as she went very quiet. So quiet in fact I thought I'd blown my chance of seeing her again. When she did speak, she made no mention of it. 'So what made you change your mind and ring me then?' is what she did say. I explained my homecoming reception and Tess's actions in getting her number. 'Oh damn!' I heard Claire say, 'of course you didn't ring; I forgot you didn't have my number. It felt as if we'd known each other so long I never thought about it.' 'Same here,' I admitted. We chatted for another half an hour about absolutely nothing, when during one of my longer listening moments, Tess and Stephen came back in. Seeing I was still on the phone they both grinned and Tess mouthed the question, 'when are you seeing her again?' Sensing that my attention had left her briefly Claire asked, intuitively, 'are your children back?' I told her they were and after a few more words we agreed to meet on Wednesday evening. When I eventually hung up - acting all teenage by waiting for Claire to hang up first - I felt better than I had in years. Tess, once she knew I was to see Claire again, left with a smug grin. Steve just commented, 'Good on yer, Dad!' and went up to his room. I sat in my favourite chair, only to realise I still had my coat on. I swiftly removed it, hung it up and returned to my comfy chair to contemplate the last half hour or so. Apart from the embarrassment of having my children involve themselves in my private life, everything was good. In fact, I had initially thought 'my sex life' before correcting my own thoughts. For the first time I began to seriously contemplate making love to Claire. I had already fantasised about her but now I was wondering if there was now a chance that something could actually happen. I had now passed beyond fantasy into hope. True, I recognised all the reasons not to, but once in my mind that hope would not leave. Of course the hope also extended beyond mere sex to a proper relationship and I was honest enough with myself to know that, for all the age gap, is what I wanted most, although the erection I was sporting proved physical desire was pretty high too. My arousal was strong enough to need relief, which was provided during a long hot shower. Over the inordinately long next forty-eight hours, I felt like a schoolboy with his first crush, sleeping only in fits and starts and, most unusually for me, my appetite disappeared. Typically, I tried to predict all the possible outcomes, not only for Wednesday itself, but for the short-term future as well (even in my most optimistic scenarios I couldn't see a long-term future for us). It took little effort to work out my behaviour for my 'date'; it would be as before, acting the perfect gentleman. Deciding what I was going to wear proved more difficult until I asked my daughter. Her reply was so typically logical. 'It doesn't matter Dad. You didn't dress up on Friday, besides if she were into 'appearance' in her men then she wouldn't be seeing you. Would she?' So early Wednesday evening, casually dressed, I walked slowly, as I was twenty minutes early, and nervously to the pub where we were to meet. The gentleman part of me had misgivings about meeting her inside a pub, but the twenty-first century woman overrode my objections. I ordered a glass of white wine, not wanting my breath smelling of beer, which was my usual tipple when in a pub; pubs not being noted for the quality of their wines. I sat down facing the door, feeling foolish for being so excited, and waited. To my delight Claire arrived early too, only a couple of minutes but early, wearing the same coat as before, but higher heels making her lovely legs look even better. Swiftly I rose and went to greet her. Her genuine smile on seeing me warmed my heart and helped alleviate most of the butterflies that had been tormenting my stomach. The brief kiss on my lips sent them all back again, this time accompanied by their whole families. 'Hi!' she said in the sweet voice I had rapidly come to love. 'Hi beautiful!' I replied, surprising myself with the confidence in my voice, I'd half expected to splutter. To my further surprise Claire blushed at the complement. 'I suppose that's one advantage of going out with an old man.' She replied. 'Ah! You mean the complement.' I grinned. 'No! I mean the poor eyesight.' She laughed. We continued in the same vein for the rest of the evening, laughing and joking as if we'd known each other for years and there was no generation gap separating us. We ate at an Italian restaurant, once more walking to it with linked arms, where Claire insisted on paying. Again her attire was simple and elegant, this time a short sleeved black dress with a neckline that just showed the merest hint of cleavage, although with her breasts matching the rest of her petite frame Claire was never going to display much in the way of cleavage. It suited me, as, unlike my son, I preferred smaller breasts. Throughout the evening I behaved impeccably, although as we were waiting for coffee I reached across the table to hold Claire's dainty hand. She smiled at my touch and placed her other hand on mine to show me that she approved. It was the first romantic touch that we had shared and I felt my stomach churn as her hand covered mine. The walk to her car was different from Friday's. We had already made plans to see each other again, so this time I didn't need to strut, didn't care if anyone saw us or not, I knew that this fabulous woman was with me, and that I'd be seeing her again, knowledge that was more than enough. At her car I held the door open for her to get in but to my amazement she just pushed it shut and turned to look at me. 'This model behaviour thing can go too far you know!' she stated. 'Do you want to kiss me?' She demanded. Before I could answer, Claire looked at me and in a softer voice answered for me. 'Of course you do. You're just trying to prove that some men can keep their hands to themselves. The problem is that when we have a good man like that, we women don't want him to. Oh! Just kiss me.' I was more than willing to oblige so I leaned back against her car with my legs spread wide and pulled her to me. This way the height difference was marginal and our lips met for the second time. The first kiss of greeting was sweet enough, but now we kissed with a passion that had been simmering for most of the evening. I'd forgotten just how good a kiss can be, not just the taste of her mouth and touch of her tongue against mine, but the physical contact as her body pushed against mine, the smell of her hair; all of this overpowered my senses and left behind just an immense pleasure. When we finally broke off the kiss, we looked closely at each other; both of us a little taken aback by just how much went into that kiss. 'I think I'd better go.' Claire said to my great disappointment. She then cleared my momentary dismay by adding with a grin, 'whilst I still can. Its a good job I'm driving - my legs have gone all wobbly.' She finished with a laugh. 'I know what you mean.' I said meaningfully. 'Thanks for a wonderful evening and you were right as you could probably tell.' 'Right about what?' she asked. 'About me wanting to kiss you! I've been wanting to do that since about an hour after meeting you.' 'It took a whole hour!' she said with simulated disgust. 'I must be losing my touch.' Knowing that she was about to leave and that I wanted to prolong the moment, I took hold of both her hands and gently pulled her to me. With my hands on her slim waist I leaned down to meet her lips. This kiss was as different again as the first, more gentle and loving, softer, our tongues teasing rather than fighting each other, but is was no less pleasurable. Claire eventually pushed herself away. 'Its a good job my Mum's at home or I'd have dragged you back by now.' She laughed. 'You wouldn't have needed to drag me.' I responded. 'True! But I do have to get back. Some of us have to get up early in a morning.' Claire had already mentioned an early morning train she had to catch. 'Ok! I'll let you go.' It was actually another twenty minutes and two further kisses before Claire finally drove off. I walked home, although I'd swear I was floating rather than walking. Apart from a few hours of sleep, I do not a single hour passed without some sort of contact with each other, be it phone, email or text. I finished work early on Friday, so decided I'd have a long soak in the bath before meeting Claire. I shower to keep clean, but I adore the relaxing sensation of a really hot bath. As usual there was little on my mind other than the young woman I was meeting later that evening. It was during that bath that I asked myself if I was already in love her, was it infatuation or just sheer lust. I swiftly excluded the latter, but the remaining choice was harder. I don't recall ever being infatuated before so I wasn't too clear exactly how infatuation affected people and though I was pretty sure that I was NOT in love I was equally certain that it wouldn't take much to take that fateful step. I knew I should tread carefully, I'd been very badly hurt when my marriage broke up, in fact I wasn't sure that I was fully over that pain, so did I want to risk it again, especially, given the age difference that the risk was so much higher. I had suggested that, being a Friday, we go to a club or music pub, of which Newcastle seems full of these days, but Claire declared that she wasn't really partial to the modern music that blares out in these places. She had suggested a Chinese restaurant about a mile outside of town. It was only a mile or so away and therefore easily within walking distance for me, had a good reputation and its own car park, so I concurred. Once more I arrived early for our date but Claire had beaten me to it. She was waiting in her car and almost ran to me as I crossed the car park. Although it took only a few seconds to reach me I still had plenty of time to take in her beauty. She was wearing a knee-length black coat and a skirt or dress underneath as her fabulous legs were on show. My heart quickened in happiness that this lovely young woman was so happy to see me. We kissed as soon as she reached me but both of us held back a little, knowing that the evening was only just starting. I remember the food as being excellent that evening, but how much of that was down to my companion rather than the actual food I'm not sure. The pleasure started as we sat down with Claire removing her coat, revealing a blood red blouse and simple, but short black skirt. Never mind the meal, I wanted to eat my partner. We held hands for most of the evening, apart from when we were making fools of ourselves with chopsticks. We both drank soft drinks, Claire because she was driving; me because I didn't want my memories of her clouded by alcohol. At the end of the meal, as we were waiting for the bill, I asked her, 'Where do we go from here?' I knew the question was ambiguous, I had intended it to be. What I really wanted to know is where, if anywhere, our relationship was heading. If that proved embarrassing for Claire she could answer with a place. She did neither. Instead she reached into her handbag and removed a toothbrush and held it up in front of me. She had a smile, the warmth of which would have saved the Titanic. I felt a similar warmth flood through me and when it reached my heart I knew, without doubt that I loved this fabulous young woman, not because she was willing to sleep with me, but of the thoughtful way she had let me know. I leaned across the table and kissed her with all the love and tenderness I was feeling. It was a lengthy kiss and when we pulled apart I became aware of other people's stares. The kiss was meant as a big thank you but it also had the advantage of giving my ageing brain a chance to think before I was required to talk. Instinctively I wanted to tell her that I loved her, but caution prevailed, as I did not want to scare her off as a declaration of love may have done. I swiftly paid the bill and literally swept Claire to her car. Once in the car we kissed once more, this one took our budding relationship onto the next level. It was soft, yet passionate, the type of kiss that is as much emotional as physical; a kiss that can only occur between two people who care deeply for each other. It told me more about Claire's feelings for me than the toothbrush and its implications ever could. For those brief moments nothing else mattered beyond the woman in my arms and her soft lips pressed against mine. As I reluctantly pulled away the words 'I Love You!' formed in my mind but before I could say anything, Claire, as if telepathic, put a finger against my lips and whispered. 'Not now David! Just tell me where you live and lets go to bed.' We drove to my home in silence, but in as much contact as the car and safety would allow. As we approached my front door I momentarily wondered if Stephen was still at home, but instantly decided I didn't care. If he was then he didn't make it known as we went straight to my bedroom. Claire chucked the overnight bag she'd retrieved from her car onto the floor and turned to me and opened her arms. Swiftly I pulled her to me for a kiss and embrace. As desperate as I was to make love to her, I was more intent on doing things right. I wanted to please my young, soon to be, lover. Once we were in the bedroom and knew what would be happening the urgency left us, well me anyway, I don't think that Claire felt it as much. We kissed, gently, as if we'd been lovers for years, our tongues greeting each other like old friends. Because of the height difference I pushed Claire to the bed and attempted to lower her softly on to it. Unfortunately I failed and we both fell on to it, with me landing heavily on top of my petite partner. We both burst out laughing. I was lying on top of her, my face inches above hers watching her eyes as the mirth expressed itself. I stopped laughing, suddenly filled with a warmth so strong. I recognised earlier that I loved her, but even I was taken aback at the power of love I was now feeling as I looked down on the young woman beneath me. It was a special moment in our relationship, as Claire seeing my look, stopped laughing but retained a gorgeous smile, looked back at me, sensing I think, my thoughts. Once more, I felt the urge to tell her that I loved her, but as daft as it may seem, also felt that this wasn't the right time. I didn't want her to think I was saying it just because we were about to make love. Instead I kissed her sparkling eyes, then her nose before taking each lip, in turn, into my mouth kissing and running my tongue over them. My lips then began teasing her neck and throat, sometimes straying to nibble an earlobe. I undid the top button of her red silk blouse and kissed the flesh that that exposed. The next button followed and the next, until I was kissing the top of her right breast, exposed by her half-cup bra. My fingers continued to undo the blouse as my mouth worked her small breasts, sucking and biting each nipple through her sexy red bra, selected, I hoped just for this moment. Her hands released my head to shake off the now superfluous blouse and reached behind to unclip the bra. My mouth left her just long enough for the bra to be snatched away. I wanted to gaze at the perfect mounds that I'd dreamed about, now exposed to me, but Claire had other ideas, pulling my mouth back to her protruding nipple. The pleasure of vision rapidly replaced by that of touch. Whilst my mouth was occupied with her breasts my hand moved to her leg, just above her knee and below her skirt. I could feel the firmness of her legs but also the hated feel of tights. I rubbed and squeezed, moving my hand to the inside of her thigh, and then moving up under her skirt. My heart was pounding in anticipation when it suddenly beat even faster. My hand had encountered bare skin; she was wearing stockings not tights. Even with the thrill of feeling her naked thighs I still thought about the preparation that Claire had put in to make this night special. I loved her the more for it. I lifted my head from her breast to look at her, my eyes and smile showing my appreciation. Her eyes shone with happiness and for a few moments nothing else mattered other than the loving kiss I had to give her. The urgency within our bodies permitted that kiss only a few brief seconds before demanding that I return my attention to where I left it; my lips returning to her nipple and my fingers tracing a winding but definite path up her thigh. She opened her legs wider allowing me to touch the silk smoothness of her panties. That first touch was electrifying. Claire literally jumped of the bed, even though she must have been ready for it. For me, it was the amazing amount of heat emanating through the sheer garment. As I pressed a finger harder against the silken material I could feel the dampness of her desire. If I was in any doubt to that need Claire rid it by emitting a long and loud moan of pleasure and pushing my head firmer against the nipple I was sucking. I continued to stimulate her pussy through her panties for a couple of minutes before the desire to explore her properly forced my hand up the few inches it required to find the flesh above those brief panties. My fingers then went down again, this time inside the offending material, relishing the relative coarseness of her pubic hair. Unintentionally my finger rubbed against her clit, which was already engorged. Once more Claire jumped and let out an even louder moan. Swiftly I moved my finger away, that pleasure was for later. I moved it to the heat of her sex. Her pussy lips were wet enough to allow my fingers an easy path to her core. Very slowly I inserted my middle finger, appreciating the firm grip her intimate muscles had but adoring the effect that I was having on my lover. As my finger reached as far as it could travel, I felt a totally unfair feeling of jealousy. Claire, understandably, was not a virgin; she had not intimated it but I could not help that fleeting moment of, not anger or true sadness, just a disappointment I suppose, that I would not be the first for her. The feeling lasted no more than a couple of seconds but I did not like myself for it. I started to move my head down her sexy young body, but suddenly Claire stopped me. She sat up, pushed me onto the bed and said. 'Not yet darling! It's your turn first.' She then began to undo and then remove my shirt as my mind was doing somersaults at her endearment. Once my shirt was off Claire began on my trousers, swiftly removing them, my boxers, shoes and socks in one clean movement. Needless to say, but I was rampant, which Claire now turned her attention to. With her delicate hands she stroked my average sized manhood to its full splendour, as it was my turn to throw back my head and moan my pleasure. There was a few seconds of cool air on my cock as her hands momentarily left it. As I registered this I looked up to see Clair removing her panties; she'd had the foresight to wear them over the garter belt. I smiled, as I took in her beautiful body, naked from the waist up. She saw me watching and grinned before positioning herself above my head. Slowly she lowered her hips offering my mouth her pussy, which I gratefully received. My tongue dived straight into her, following the course my finger had taken moments earlier. My mind was suddenly split in two as first I felt her hand grip my rock hard cock followed almost immediately by the wet warmth of her mouth. I both love and hate 'soixante neuf'; I love the closeness, the giving and receiving all in one; I hate my inability to concentrate on both simultaneously. With great effort I decided to focus on giving Claire her pleasure. I was honest enough to know that I'd be blowing my load within a few seconds otherwise. Gripping her skirt clad hips I pulled her further down on to my mouth, sucking her clit between my lips and running my tongue rapidly across it. Her body shook with pleasure and, I think, accidentally she dropped her head, engulfing my whole cock in her mouth and throat. For me this was a first and my earlier decision was put on hold as I savoured the signals my cock was sending to my already over stimulated brain. Recognising that she had the upper hand Claire's mouth and tongue doubled their efforts, forcing my hips to thrust faster and harder to match them. Despite my wish to please Claire it was only a few moments before I was spurting into the depths of her throat. How she didn't choke I have no idea, but truthfully for those few seconds I didn't care as my body ruled my brain. I was immediately drained but knew I had to give Claire the same sort of orgasm that she'd just give me. It took a while before my body was recovered enough to put in my full effort, but in the mean time I just licked her pussy, tasting her excitement. After that and without my own stimulation to distract me, I soon had Claire on the verge as I concentrated on her clit, sucking, gently biting and pressing my tongue hard against it. As I felt my lover's approaching climax, I slid two fingers deep into her and began to bend and straightening them. It was all it took. I could feel her legs spasm as the gripped my head. Claire's orgasm lasted longer than any other I could recall, or it might have just seemed like that trapped between her delicious thighs. The other thing about that moment that will remain embedded in my mind is the overpowering aroma of her excited body. When she eventually came down, she released my head and turned around to lie on top of me. We kissed, the salty taste reminding me of my own earlier pleasure. 'Not bad for an old man!' Claire said, trying to maintain a straight face. I gently slapped her bum, which was still covered with her skirt. 'That the best you can do.' Claire laughed. This time I slowly lifted her skirt above her waist, stroking and caressing her taut cheeks as I did so. Then, halfway through a caress, I slapped her naked buttock quite hard. I kept my hand cupped so it would sound much worse that it was. 'Pig!' She shouted and began to thump my chest aping the damsels in distress in all the old films, which might have worked had she not being laughing so loud. My hands hadn't left her firm arse and as I kneaded and squeezed, my cock began to rise again. 'Pervert as well!' Claire managed to say between her bouts of mirth. I pulled her mouth back to mine, needing my fix of her lips. 'Of course I'm perverted.' I said when we broke the kiss, 'who else, other than a pervert, and an old one at that, could love a minx like you?' 'So you finally said it.' Claire said suddenly serious. As soon as I'd said it I knew that I shouldn't have, but it just seemed so natural. 'I'm sorry.' I began. Claire's eyes showed gentleness I hadn't seen before. 'What are you sorry for? For loving me or for telling me?' My lover asked. The question took me by surprise. 'For telling you of course.' I managed to reply. 'But I already knew, I've known for a while!' Then she grinned, 'probably before you did!' I was lost. 'Then why...' I said, and then stopped not knowing what question I wanted answered. She kissed me quick on the lips before she answered the question I'd been unable to ask. 'Because, I love you too! Stupid! You don't think I'd be lying here in bed with some old bugger if I didn't love him?' My sense of humour was coming back. My eyes must have sparkled a bit because before I could say anything, Claire said sternly. 'Don't you dare answer that!' I didn't bother to ask her how she knew what I was about to say; I'd already noticed it was a skill she possessed in abundance. 'Now are you going to make love to me before I grow as old as you.' Then, something that had never happened before or since but I was instantly erect, no gradual build up but immediate hard on. Claire, lying on top of me was aware, even a little impressed. 'At least someone's awake around here.' She grinned. She then moved until my cock was positioned right and simply slid down my body allowing me to enter the woman I loved for the very first time. The heat that surrounded my cock and the way she used her virginal muscles removed all other thoughts from my head. Slowly at first we made love, joined by our sexual organs and our mouths, until Claire needing more, sat up on my thighs. At no time did she allow contact to be broken. Our lovemaking then became more intense as Claire rode me as if life itself depended on it, which for that moment in time ours did. Despite my earlier release, it wasn't long before I was succumbing to her demanding body again and once more ejaculating deep into the woman I loved. Claire did not reach orgasm that first time but I hopefully made up for that during the long night. Halfway the night, in a moment between sleep and sharing each other, I asked Claire how she knew that I loved her. She smiled and said it was obvious to anyone who looked at me - a point later confirmed by both my children. I asked her to marry me, which unsurprisingly she declined, saying that we should enjoy each other and see what happened. A year to the day I proposed again and this time Claire agreed to become my wife. One other thing! A few months later Stephen and Mandy met at a party given by Claire and myself. They clicked immediately, initially unaware of their missed blind date, and have been together ever since. Telephoneman 2005 Comments / Criticisms are welcome. It is the only payment a writer receives. [email protected]

Its Better than Football by Telephoneman This work is the intellectual property of the author Telephoneman and he claims the copyright. Permission if requested WILL be granted for this story to be posted or archived to any free site. Permission MAY be granted to any commercial or pay site or organisation. Requests for such permission should be sent to:- [email protected] xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx WARNING xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx This is a work of adult fiction and contains descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults and others. If you are under the age of consent where you reside delete this file immediately. If it is illegal to obtain this sort of material where you reside delete this file immediately. Otherwise read and enjoy! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Its Better than Football It was a typical English summers day; in other words it was raining as usual. Being summer the rain was not too heavy and was quite warm. It was ideal weather for football (for those of you across the pond I mean proper football played with the foot i.e. soccer). I was on my round to my mate Doug for a prearranged kick about. It was early Saturday morning, about 8:30 when I knocked at his door. It seemed an age before his mother finally opened the door. Hes gone fishing for the weekend with his dad she said, rubbing her eyes and trying to wake up. Shed obviously still been in bed when I knocked. I knew Dougs parents had split up and he rarely saw his dad. Because we had arranged our morning I was a bit surprised at his change of plan, this obviously showed on my face because his mother added It was only arranged last night when his fathers work plans were cancelled. Oh! was my only comment, as I turned round to go. I was a couple of steps down the path when his mother called me back. I dont suppose you fancy giving me a hand moving some furniture do you as I intend to decorate my bedroom this weekend. To be honest I didnt fancy it at all but I now had little else to do and Mrs. Byrne was nice and had always looked after her sons friends, so I nodded and said Yeah OK! Mrs. Byrne laughed and said, I like the enthusiasm. Come in and Ill get you some biscuits. With that she turned round and walked off towards the kitchen leaving me to shut the door and follow her. Kicking off my boots I followed her, my disappointment lifting when I saw her from the back. She was wearing a silk or silk like dressing gown. From the front with her arms holding it tightly shut I hadnt noticed anything but now that tightness just emphasized her figure, especially her arse. Its shape was clearly defined and to my very uneducated eye she wore nothing under it. Mrs. Byrne did not look old like most of the mums I knew, including mine, but looked more like Dougs big sister than his mum. The fact that she was younger added to the fact she was the only mum I knew that actually had a figure. Id never before noticed how good a figure but then Id never seen her like this before. Like most teenagers, sex was a subject rarely far from my mind, but I can honestly say, up until then none of my mates mothers had ever figured in my many fantasies. Again along with 99% of other teenagers we talked and talked about it, what we would like to do and who to and surprisingly enough mothers didnt once crop up in the who to category. I followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She passed me the biscuit barrel and told me to help myself and asked if I wanted a drink as she was making herself a cup of tea. I declined with a shake of the head, not trusting myself to speak after such weird thoughts. I was beginning to get over those thoughts when she went to the fridge and leaned over to get some milk. Her gown clung tightly to the contours of her body, clearly displaying the taut cheeks of her arse and strongly hinting at the crack between those cheeks. This time I felt my cock stir. Now I had a problem, dressed to play football all I had on was my Liverpool FC top and an old pair of loose cotton shorts with nothing under them. Therefore any arousal would be near impossible to hide. Fortunately I was still sitting at the table so I swung my legs under it. I watched this newly interesting woman make her drink and come to sit opposite me at the table. Because her hands were now occupied with her drink her robe was no longer held in place with anything other than a belt. Although tightly fastened around her waist, the top now formed a distinctive V shape pointing to her covered but no longer hidden breasts. Their shape and size were clearly defined. My lack of knowledge prevented my from accurate comparisons but the strong thought of A nice handful crossed my mind. Again this thought had its effect on my already twitching cock. Some inane conversation followed, the subject of which is forever lost to my memory, before Mrs. Byrne stood up saying she should go and get properly dressed. Thankful that she had gone without noticing by errant member I decided I needed to go to the bathroom and make myself less noticeable. I then crept quietly upstairs to the bathroom. Reaching the top of the stairs I noticed that a bedroom door was slightly open. There were only three doors on the landing and I knew from past visits which was Dougs and which was the bathroom. The open one was the third door. My first thought was to return downstairs and wait, but the winning one said try to look in without being noticed. As I was standing about four steps from the top and the view through the open portion covered about the middle third of the room (to say nothing about being scared to move) I stayed where I was. A few moments later I was rewarded with a view that is still with me today. Mrs. Byrne walked from the right side of the room to the left. She was completely naked! My view was from the back and from her left side. A very brief glimpse of the side of her breast and to this day I cant make my mind up whether or not her nipple was visible, was followed by a full view of her naked arse. It was the first naked woman I had ever seen and bettered all my expectations. She bent slightly to pick up some hidden object leaving just that glorious arse in view before quickly turning round and returning to the right of the room. She turned to her right thus denying me a full frontal view but also eliminating the chance of been seen. Quickly I returned to the kitchen table, now sporting a full erection. I tried to conjure up any image I could think of to get my erection to subside all to no avail. My imagination could not overrule reality, not when reality was that good. Mrs. Byrne came back into the kitchen dressed for work in jeans and a tee shirt. She looked in my direction no gave no hint that she was aware of my predicament. Come on then she said and returned upstairs again expecting me to follow, which of course I did. I got to her room and was told Go and make some space in Dougs room so Ive got somewhere to move my wardrobe and dresser. Glad to be out of her sight I readily agreed, hoping that a bit of hard work will help my erection go down. Ok Mrs. Byrne I said. Half an hour later I had accomplished both tasks, enough room for the required furniture and one flaccid dick. I returned to the master bedroom calling Ok Mrs. Byrne theres room now. Im not struck on being called Mrs. Byrne, it makes me feel old, which Im not before you say anything she said breaking into a smile, call me Sue. Ok Mrs. Byrne, sorry Sue, I replied and then carried on before I realised what I was saying, and I certainly dont think you look old. This made her laugh and laughter made her look even younger. And what do you think I look like? A picture of her naked crossing this very room I was now in sprung to mind, I blushed, both at the question and at my mental image. I dont know but not old. She was obviously enjoying my embarrassment You dont know? Is that good or bad? she asked. Fortunately the embarrassment meant I was not thinking about my cock and had yet managed to avoid even more embarrassment by getting a hard on. Good of course. You look very good, I continued digging myself into an even bigger hole. Very good? Dressed like this? she smiled. A moment later her eyes lit up, I did not know then but she clicked that I was talking about her in the dressing gown. She was obviously aware of what her body could do to the other sex. Like I had not considered her sexually, she had not considered me. Again unknown to me at the time but that moment signified a change in attitude. Anyway, enough of this banter, weve work to do. That put me in my place so I shut up and waited to be told what to do. Ive emptied the wardrobe she said, nodding in the direction of a pile of clothes lying on the bed, so lets get that moved first. We struggled for a good twenty minutes moving the wardrobe from one room to the other. Next job was the dresser, which we decided would be easier if we took the drawers out first. Sue took the top drawer through as I finished positioning the wardrobe. A couple of steps into Dougs room and Sue slipped spilling the drawers contents over the floor. Give me a hand to pick these up will you? she asked. Without thinking a knelt down to pick up the garments only to discover that it was obviously Sues underwear drawer and the floor was littered with frilly bras and panties. Taking a deep breath I started picking up her underwear, trying hard not to register my pleasure at feeling such intimate items. Again I left myself wide open when I paused holding a pair of lace panties, so sheer and so tiny that they could not possibly hide anything. I see youve found my favourite knickers Sue said, dont leave much to the imagination do they? They did a lot for my imagination as I tried to imagine Sue wearing them. The resultant erection was not difficult to foresee. This time Sue did notice but chose to smile and ignore it by getting up and going to get the rest of the drawers. Up until this point I had managed to avoid actually touching my cock but with Sue out the room and me holding her flimsy panties and an erection I could resist rubbing my cock with the panties before reluctantly putting them back in the drawer. David. Can you come here a second Sue cried from the other room. I picked up the last of the spilled underwear and strolled into Sues bedroom. She was on the phone, which Id failed to hear ring, and said Ive got to pop out for a short while, can you manage the rest? No problem I replied. Right, I think Id better get out of these filthy clothes and just take a quick shower she said and walked into the bathroom. A few moments later I heard the shower. Once again my imagination, sparked by the previous glimpse of Sues naked body, went into overdrive. My erection was now nearly permanent and I was amazed Sue hadnt said anything. I was also surprised how quickly I changed from thinking of her as Mrs. Byrne, a mates mum, to Sue a sexy woman. I heard the bathroom door open and Sue shout, Will you pass me that black dress lying on the bed...Oh! And some underwear. I forgot, I cant use my bedroom. Id already noticed the dress when shed added the bit about underwear. I picked up the dress and went to Dougs room for the underwear trying (and failing) to avoid embarrassment. I picked up the first pair of panties and bra that I saw and took them to the bathroom door. A hand appeared round the door grabbed them and the door shut. A few seconds later the door opened again and Sue came out with just a towel wrapped around her. It covered most, but not all of her breasts and came down to a few inches below her bum. Men! You dont wear white underwear with a black dress. She mocked. She pushed past me into her bedroom exposing her gorgeous legs to my view. Quickly realising that her underwear was in the next room she turned and walked right past me to Dougs room and leaned over to select a fitting set of undergarments. My eyes were riveted to her rear for as she bent over I glimpsed her pussy. I could not see any pubic hair and believe me I was looking before she stood up, turned, looked at me with a smile and went back into the bathroom. Some moments later she emerged fully dressed in a short plain black dress. I shant be long she said as she rushed down stairs grabbing a coat on the way out the door. As soon as she was gone I thought about getting those little black panties and using them to masturbate. After a small deliberation I decided against it and went into her room to finish the move. It took over an hour to move everything except the bed (it wouldnt fit) and Sue was still not back, so I started to roll the edges of the carpet away from the wall. It was a heavy-duty carpet and quite hard work. When I had finished I leaned back against the wall with my knees up against my chest. I was remembering the morning trying to put my finger on what had happened, which was everything and nothing. As I recalled various incidents I had absentmindedly pulled up the leg of my shorts and was stroking my cock. Suddenly I heard a noise and saw Sue standing in the doorway. Well we have been busy havent we she said. I noticed that her eyes were looking down at my legs when I realised she could see my cock down the leg of my shorts. I immediately felt it twitch as yet another erection loomed. I slowly straightened my legs and stood up. I looked at Sue and saw that it was her turn for embarrassment. She was bright red, an obvious sign that I was right, she had been looking at my cock. She swivelled round and went first into Dougs room and then into the bathroom, emerging a few moments later now dressed in a skirt and another tee shirt, this one showing some cleavage. At first when I saw her grab some clothes and go into the bathroom to change I was a bit disappointed, as I had hoped to catch a glimpse either down the low-cut front or up the short dress. As I saw what she had changed into my disappointment faded as I took in her new attire. The skirt was not as short as her dress, but not far off, still ending just above her knees. It was the tee shirt, though, that really had my attention, it was tight fitting and as I said, it showed the top third of her breasts. Best of all I quickly realised that she was no longer wearing her bra. Her nipples although not sticking out were obvious. I stared at her breasts thinking of how much I wanted to touch them. Sue could obviously see where I was looking but all she said was. Thanks. Have you got to go or do you want to stay and help me strip this wallpaper? she asked, then added Ill give you a nice treat if you do. Although I assumed she meant money my idea of a treat was further sights of her body. With her exposing her breasts (well to me it looked like exposure) there was no way I wanted to leave even if I had anything else to do, which I didnt. Trying not to sound to keen I agreed to stay. She went to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of water, a couple of sponges and a pair of wallpaper strippers. Wet the paper then scrape it off. I know, Ive done it enough times at home I replied. We decided that I was to do the top half of the wall, as I was the taller, with Sue doing the lower areas. A couple of hours of hard work followed but it was an enjoyable time spent joking with each other. I also had some pleasant views when Sue was directly below me. About half way through we paused for a drink. Sue went to get a cup of tea for her and for me, just ice cold milk. I sat on the floor, very careful not to give Sue another view up my shorts, and Sue sat on the bed in front of me her knees primly together. We were talking about Doug when the telephone rang. With no other furniture in the room the phone was on the floor on the far side of the bed. Sue turned round, leaned over the bed and answered the phone lying on her stomach. From my low vantage point I could now see up her skirt. Her legs were too close together to give me a good view, but open just enough to give the impression that I could see her black panties. She didnt speak much just said Ok a couple of times. She then put the phone back on the floor and rolled over onto her back, sat up and slid back to my side of the bed to where she had been sitting originally. This manoeuvre had two benefits, at least they were beneficial to me. First as she rolled over onto her back her legs opened considerably more giving me a clear view of her panty covered sex. Black panties in a dark area do not give the best view, but it was more than enough for me, and once again I felt my cock spring into life. Secondly as Sue had shuffled forward to the edge of the bed her skirt had ridden right up her thighs, so far in fact that she was no longer sitting on it. Although her legs were now back together I could still see all her thighs and again just a hint of panty. That was Jack just confirming that they are camping out tonight and will be back tomorrow evening. Jack was Dougs father. I seemed oblivious to what she was saying, my attention focused on her legs. My arousal would be obvious if I moved, which I had to, so I turned my back to Sue, stood up and excused myself and went quickly to the bathroom. Once there I had an urgent need to masturbate and started stroking my cock. Dont be all day Sue shouted through the door, I need to go too. So much for my relief so I had a piss hoping that that would help relieve the pressure, which to a degree it did. Because I had other things on my mind I forgot to flush the toilet and when I opened the door, quite abruptly, Sue was standing there with the front of her skirt up around her waist and her hand down inside her panties. Although she moved her hand very quickly and pushed past me into the bathroom that image was as clear in my mind as if I was studying a photograph. The look on her face was one that I did not at the time recognise but I certainly did recognise the panties. They were the little black ones I had held earlier, the ones Sue had said were her favourite. I could see the outline of her hand as she cupped her pussy and I could see the dark curly hairs either side of her hand. My relief had not lasted long I was again hard with nowhere to go to hide it. Sue was quite a while in the bathroom, but even with my inexperience with women, I accepted it this as normal. I did wonder, though, why the tap was left running. I thought the safest bet was to return to the task in hand, that is stripping the walls. After a while, Sue came to join me. She said nothing but I could see that she was flushed which I took as embarrassment. As we continued to work Sue now seemed to be always around my legs working under whatever bit of wall I was on. Once, Sue asked if I was ok. As I looked down to answer I turned from the wall to face her. I saw that her face was only inches from my cock. Yet again my cock responded, Id been hard or semi hard all day and now I was again sporting an erection. Looking down I could see the bulge in my shorts quite clearly. Sue from inches away could not have missed it, and didnt. As I mumbled an answer Sues eyes stayed on my bulge before quickly standing up saying We need some fresh water and scooping up the bowl went into the bathroom for a refill. She came back placed the bowl by my feet and went to sit on the bed. Not on the side had she had done previously but in the middle of the bed with her hands on the bed behind her acting as a prop, and her knees bent with her feet flat on the bed and about two foot apart. This presented an absolute clear view of thinly veiled pussy. I could see the shape of her lips and through the sheer material easily make out her pubes. I had never been as hard as I felt then and made no effort to disguise where I was looking. To be honest I think any effort would have been to no avail. Sue must have been aware of what she was doing, but remained in that position for another few minutes, staring at the ceiling and uttering inane comments about the rooms decoration. At least I think that was what she was talking about, my attention was elsewhere. Right between her legs to be precise. Alright nearly there she said as she stood up. Another ten minutes should see us done Just ten minutes later I was stretching to wet the last bit of paper near the ceiling and Sue was sitting on the floor right by my feet scraping her last bit of paper off. It suddenly occurred to me that from where Sue was sitting and the way I was stretching that she could, once again, look up and see my still semi-erect cock. I didnt know whether she was or not so I tried to carry on working while trying to look at Sue. What actually happened that I dropped the water-laden sponge onto Sue. She screamed and stood up. I could not help laughing until I looked at her and saw that the sponge had landed on her right breast, soaking her tee shirt and making it virtually transparent. An almost naked breast was just a few inches away from my eyes. Try as I might, I could not look away. Sue followed my eyes and saw her exposed breast and shouted with a laugh Happy now? Youve been trying to ogle me all day. Before I could lie and deny this accusation she laughed again and then to my utter delight she reached for the bottom of her tee shirt and pulled it over her head. Im not wearing a soaking wet tee shirt thats for certain. I was speechless, I had hoped for and received a peek or two and was delighted with the wet tee shirt view, but this. About a minute passed with my eyes never leaving her breasts and Sue standing there, smiling and watching the delight on my face. Oddly enough for this minute or so I was not hard. It had all happened to quick to take in. As I recovered normal service resumed and my cock became rampant. Is this the treat you promised me? I grinned. Why! Do you think its a treat seeing my tits. Sue asked, then looking down at my shorts she added Well! That seems to like the view. Anyone would think youve never seen a pair before. I havent I admitted. Wow! A virgin, not many of them around nowadays This was getting a bit too much for me to follow but my body seemed to know what to do even if my brain didnt. I raised my hands towards her breasts, I could not think of them in the derogatory form of tits. I expected her to move back or push my hands away. Instead she moved a little closer allowing my hands to touch her breasts. After a moment of inept fiddling around Sue took hold of my hands and showed me how to caress her properly, moving my hands to where she wanted and squeezing my fingers to show me how much pressure to use. I moved closer, and felt her nipples grow as the palm of my hands gently rubbed them. Soon they were quite hard so I moved my hands away so that I could see them. Beautiful! I murmured. Do you really think so? she asked dont you think theyre too small. Echoing what I was to learn in later life, that no matter how good a womans body was there was nearly always something she felt insecure about. No theyre absolutely perfect. Said this sudden expert in womens breasts. Again nature took over and I started to gently pinch her nipples and pulled my hands up her breasts towards each nipple. To my surprise the nipple became even harder and I noticed Sues breathing becoming slightly laboured. That feels nice. Youre a natural she said. Well as weve finished and youve worked hard, I promised you a treat. So what would you like Sue asked me. I thought hard about the answer, not because I didnt know what I wanted but I didnt know how much I dared ask for. Suddenly I decided I want to see you naked I said. Sue seemed to be expecting this and asked with a smile Just see me? Thinking of the pleasure I was getting caressing her breasts I said And to touch you Where? Everywhere Anywhere special that you want to touch? she said with a huge grin. YYYes Are you going to tell me where? Your pussy I finally said having tried to think of the nicest name for that part of a womans anatomy. And youll be happy with that treat? More than happy I exclaimed, more than happy So theres nothing else you want? she said knowing that there obviously was. I still preferred to settle for what I had rather than risk losing it by asking for anything else. The talk seemed surreal. Here I was standing a few inches away stroking her naked breasts and playing with her delicious nipples yet we were holding a conversation akin to negotiation. Are you sure you dont want anything else? she asked but this time her hand was placed on the bulge in my shorts. You dont want anything like this? she asked. I didnt think girls, ah! I mean women, liked to touch men down there. I mumbled. Who told you that nonsense? My mother I admitted, she says women only indulge in things like that if they have to, and they certainly dont like it. What rubbish. Most women love a nice cock. You enjoy touching a womans cunt dont you? she asked. Seeing my hesitation she remembered that Id never actually done it. Ok, for you, you like the idea of it? Yes So why shouldnt women enjoy men as much as men enjoy women? I had no answer, and many years on still cant nor want to argue that point. Sues hand was on my cock throughout the discussion, her fingers tracing its outline. Youve had a hard on most of the day she laughed and you keep letting me catch the odd glimpse so lets see him in his full glory With that she knelt down and quickly pulled my shorts down to my ankles. If she was disappointed (Im only average in size, maybe even a little below) she hid it well. After a moment looking at my cock she reached out both hands to caress my balls and cock. She took her time stroking, caressing and squeezing my manhood always seeming to know when to pause. Pre-cum was oozing from my cocks tip, which she took great delight in scooping it up with a finger a then sucking her own finger. I was just thinking that I was in heaven and nothing could better this ecstasy, when Sue leaned forward and used her tongue to caress the full length of my cock before taking me into her mouth. I thought I had a great imagination, especially when it came down to sex, but I quickly realised that that was all it was, imagination. The real thing was so much better that Id never experienced anything to compare it to. I still havent. Sues hand held the base of my cock and followed the motion of her mouth as that delicious organ moved up and down my almost painful member. My cock already fully erect when Sue held it seemed, to me at least, to continue to grow inside her mouth. I lasted for a couple of hours, well it seemed a couple of hours to me but was probably less than a minute, before I erupted into her mouth. I seemed to keep coming for longer than it had taken to come in the first place. Sue kept her mouth and hand on my cock throughout, swallowing everything I could produce. I had heard of blow jobs but never give it serious thought, just assuming it was another male fantasy. After all, I struggled to accept that any woman would want to touch my cock with her hand never mind taking it in her mouth. But these thoughts of what this woman was doing were subservient to the physical ecstasy her mouth was giving me. When I was finally drained Sue released my cock give it a quick squeeze and a kiss then stood up. I was leaning back against the wall partly because thats where Sue actions had left me but mainly for the support it give me. How was that then she laughed, was that on your wish list? It was a while before I could even think of responding. That was... I cant even think of a word to do it justice. Ill be honest it wasnt on any list because I didnt believe people actually did that Hell, youve led a sheltered life. I bet my Doug isnt like that she said. I think youll be surprised I thought, but didnt voice it. I was scared that talking about Doug would remind his mum of who I was and therefore burst the bubble. As if reading my mind Sue said Are you ready for the rest of your treat? and laughed at the obvious eagerness my expression displayed. Yes I suppose you are. She said answering her own question. She stepped back from me and slowly reached behind her and unfastened the skirt. With a theatrical pause and with her eyes watching mine, Sue let the skirt drop to the floor. Standing before me she stood, with just cause, proud wearing only those tiny briefs I had held earlier. The sight was breathtaking. Id never seen a naked woman before today only the odd dirty picture. Pictures would, could never, ever do a live woman justice. My eyes followed every contour of her body, from her long dark hair framing an elfin face, the perfect breasts which a few moments ago Id been holding, the flat, taut stomach leading down to her black silk covered pussy. At that moment two things happened that would last me a lifetime. Firstly this body shape, slim with small breasts, would forever be my ultimate favourite. Secondly that a scantily dressed woman was by far sexier to look at than a naked one. The phone rang, instantly breaking my trance. Sue again lay, stomach down on the bed, as she reached over to answer the phone. This view of her near naked body again touched a nerve, sensual rather than sexual, it still aroused my newly awakened senses. Obviously aware that I was watching her Sue parted her legs slightly to enhance an already incredible view. I was oblivious to the conversation that was taking place, with my hand on my cock, which was already quite hard again, I watched this fantastic woman. After she put down the phone, she rolled onto her back and said Im sorry but Ive got to go out Trying to hold back my disappointment I said as I felt my cock quickly wither, What now? Yes now. I am sorry With the petulance of youth I turned round and started to put my shorts back on, feeling truly downcast. Come here Sue said, and I trudged to the side of the bed. She leaned towards me and took my hand in hers and placed it onto her stomach. She then slid my hand down her panties until it was covering her sex. The contrast between her perfectly smooth stomach to the rough pubic hairs to the soft moist feel of her lips was yet another memory to be retained for life. Her fingers were on top of mine and so when she bent her fingers it forced mine to bend as well. This pushed the tips of my fingers into her very moist pussy. Can you feel how wet that is? I nodded agreement. That should tell you I dont want to go but something important has come up she continued, as she withdrew my hand. Look! Ive really appreciated you being here today and your treats have been just as pleasurable to me as they have to you I doubted this but did not interrupt. Do you want to come back this evening? she asked. Yes I almost shouted, all depression swiftly disappearing. and if you want to you can stay the night. She added hesitantly. Do I want to stay the night. Is the Pope Catholic I instantly replied. Ill take that as a yes then Sue said. Your mum doesnt know Doug is away so tell her that you are staying the night at his house Id stayed over at different friends many times so I knew my mum would not even comment, probably glad to get me out of the house. Yeah, no problem. What time? I asked eagerly. Anytime after 7:00 will be fine. Now off you go and let me get ready With that and one last long look at her I made my out to spend the rest of the day in state of perpetual anticipation. Its certainly better than football I thought to myself. That afternoon was to be the longest of my life. I tried everything I could think of to make time speed up but all to no avail. My thoughts were mainly centred on earlier that day when Id seen my first naked woman, not only that, shed actually sucked my cock. Occasionally Id think ahead to that evening and the treats Sue had promised, but that filled my stomach butterflies, better to dwell on the excitement of the past than the future. I remembered peeping into her bedroom as she was changing, Id thought that that was exhilarating enough but what followed was beyond dreams (well actually it was exactly what dreams are made of). I had the longest bath of my life, fortunately with the house to myself or someone would certainly commented. I decided what to wear and changed my mind a dozen times. I finally decided on jeans and tee shirt both actually clean, something that did draw amusement from my mother. At seven oclock sharp I was knocking on Sues back door. Come in, its open, Im upstairs a voice called. Just her voice sent another wave of nervous tension through my stomach. I entered and headed after the voice. Was she waiting for me in bed, what would she be wearing? These and a million similar thoughts jockeyed for room in my over imaginative mind. As I reached the top of the stairs Sue called out from the bedroom In here. I took a moment to try and look cool and then with a confidence I did not feel strolled into her bedroom. The disappointment was as intense as the anticipation had been. Sue was busy putting wallpaper on the wall. In my eagerness for the evening to arrive Id forgotten that the reason Id been in the house in the first place was to help with the decoration. Sue sensed my disenchantment and burst out laughing. Youre too eager, work to do before treats The mention of treats went some way to lift me and I managed to join in with a near convincing laugh Yeah sure! What do you want me to do? Nothing yet. Just sit and watch for when you have to do it. With that she turned around and continued with her work. I dont know about watching Sues work I was to busy examining her body. She too was wearing jeans but with a blouse. The jeans were tight especially when she bent over. A few moments of looking at her fully clothed body did just the same to me as when Id seen her naked. I was hard for the umpteenth time that day. I didnt realise at the time but Sue was treating me to a show. Her bending and stretching not strictly required to achieve her task of papering the wall but essential to her task of enhancing my anticipation. With just over half the room papered Sue put her brush down and said as she turned to face me Thatll do for now My face displayed my obvious delight and expectation but again it was a false dawn. Sue smiled and walked to me and gave me a full lingering kiss before saying Weve still to get the furniture back in. Ive purposely done the wall where the wardrobe and dresser go so lets get started Id kissed a few girls before but the way Sue had made it seem so natural and the tenderness of the kiss itself lifted me to walking on clouds. Another lesson learned for life, a tender kiss could be the most sensual thing we ever do. It can portray more than words ever can. We spent the next hour or so moving Sues wallpaper paraphernalia out of the bedroom and furniture in. Done at last, Sue said to me David Im going to have a quick shower, change and put my face on. Can you open a bottle of wine for us? Theres one in the fridge As I turned to do as I was told Sue shouted and NO peeping What me? I retorted As if! Then realising what she meant by putting her face on I shouted back You dont need makeup it makes you look old Pardon Sue cried from the top of the stairs. Im nearly as old as your mother as she laughed at the absurdity of my remarks. I tried to defend myself Makeup is for young girls trying to look older or old women trying to look younger. Youre neither youre just beautiful I added sincerely. At this point would like to point out that my knowledge of makeup was severely limited. It was a while before I realised that good makeup is good because it doesnt look like makeup. Too many women wear makeup that hides their faces instead of enhancing them. (moan over) A quick shower turned out to be thirty seven minutes. My state of eagerness was the reason for the accurate timing. It was a long thirty seven minutes but worth the wait. Sue came into the room wearing a short black flared skirt and white blouse that superbly showed off her feminine figure. The skirt matched the colour of her long straight hair, which seemed to flow with every movement she made. She had listened and had kept the makeup to a minimum. She stood in the doorway to allow me to appreciate her and for the first time displayed signs of nerves. The look of awe my face carried was enough to tell her that her efforts were well and truly appreciated. Just then the front doorbell rang. Not another interruption I thought. Sue went to answer the door and appeared some moments later with a carrier bag whose aroma betrayed the contents. Chinese! Dinner is served Sue said as she walked towards the dining room beckoning for me to follow. Ive hardly eaten all day and Ill be damned if Im going to cook anything myself Do you like Chinese? she asked. I nodded. With my stomach churning all afternoon food had been out of the question. The fragrant aromas emanating from the carrier bag set my mouth watering. My hopes for the evening were entirely in Sues hands and Id just about got round to accepting that Sue was in no rush to start them off. Of course looking back it had started on my arrival and Sue was orchestrating the evening with the knowledge only experience brings. We sat down to eat at Sues small dining table. We sat opposite each other so I could still ogle the woman across from me. The blouse was buttoned low enough to hint at cleavage without open display. Standing behind her chair and sliding my hands down inside her blouse to the soft mounds of flesh Id enjoyed earlier was the strongest of the many erotic thoughts skipping through my head. Im glad to see you appreciate my efforts tonight Sue said well aware of my train of thought. Now help yourself and on seeing my raised eyebrows added to the food I mean I sat quietly eating whilst Sue talked about her day, at least the part since Id last seen her. Shed rushed over to see her mother over a crisis that only existed in her mothers mind before returning to try to finish the decorating. I nodded my head at what I thought appropriate moments just savouring the moment. My daydreaming was brought to an end when I felt Sues foot touch my leg. Its continued movement up and down my leg showed its arrival was not accidental. My cock stirred immediately. In a state between hard and soft since Id arrived it now started to swell, more so when her foot found its way along the inside of my thigh to rest lightly on my hardening member. I looked up at Sue but she just carried on talking as if her foot was nothing to do with her. I wished Id worn shoes that I could slip off and return the complement but with my boots there was no chance. I took the second option, which was to use one hand for eating and the other to caress the part of Sues leg within reach. Her tights were so sheer it sent a shiver through me. It was yet another sensation for my body to revel in. I rubbed her leg and then massaged her foot, careful not to allow too much pressure on my aching cock. Sue leaned back and her other foot arrived for its share of attention. All pretence of eating left me as I used both hands to stroke and rub her feet. At last Sue gave up the game and let out a tiny sigh of pleasure. Blocked by the table from exploring further I spent several minutes enjoying the feel of Sues feet. The obvious pleasure this gave Sue surprised me, but also acted as a spur to continue. Suddenly she removed her feet to sit normally once again and asked as if nothing had happened More wine? Again I just nodded assent. Sue stood up and came to stand behind me to pour the wine. She stood close, the faintest waft of perfume hit my nose but she stood that close that her breast rubbed my cheek. Do you like that? she asked. Not certain whether she meant the wine or the fleeting caress of her breast I again nodded this time adding a Mmm. Sue laughed and sat down again. Noticing that she hadnt topped her own glass up, I stood up, took the wine and moved behind her. I placed my hand on her shoulder as I leaned over to fill her glass. She turned round to thank me. The smile accompanying the look gave me the confidence to move my hand to stroke her neck. When she did not object I slid it inside her blouse to grip her bra covered breast. She let my hand stay there for an instant before gripping my wrist and slowly pulling my hand out of her blouse. The pressure was downward forcing my hand onto her breast as it was removed. Dont be in such a rush. Weve all night In response I took her hand and echoing thousands of early movies kissed her wrist. Im sorry mlady I said exaggerating a very poor posh accent. As Sue did not remove her hand I kept hold of it as I took my seat. I looked into her face suddenly aware that the description striking was literally true. I continued to stroke my fingers over her hand and lower arm. Accepting, but not truly understanding, Sues desire to go slow I still wanted to move on. I stood up with the intention of leading her into the comfort of the next room. Instead as I pulled her up from her chair I found her in my arms and the only natural thing to do was to kiss her. The kiss started as tender as our first kiss, with my arms gently wrapped around her waist and Sues under my arms with hands on my back. Sue broke the kiss to move her lips to my neck and I learned the pleasure to be derived from places Id never before considered erotic. My cock demanded to be part of this action so I lowered my hands to her firm buttocks and pulled her firmly against my throbbing sex. Whilst maintaining the pressure on my groin I used my hands to explore as much of her body as I could reach. Sue returned her lips to mine, this time with a kiss that was all passion. Her tongue probed my mouth and fenced for control with mine. She began to grind her body against me. Once gain she broke the kiss and with an animal look Ive come to recognise as desire said Ive got no chance of slowing you down until we take care of this problem her hand reaching my cock just in case I was unaware of WHICH problem. She knelt down in front of me, quickly undid my belt and jeans before lowering everything to my ankles. Without a word she gave my rigid pole a couple of strokes with her fingers before lowering her mouth to it. Expecting to feel the stimulating sensation of her mouth I was unready for the different but equally pleasurable feeling of her tongue tracing the length of my cock. Repeatedly her tongue started at the base of engorged cock and licked all the way up; tracing my sensitive head and probing my eye. Just as I began to think Id arrived in heaven Sues mouth covered me. Her tongue continued its action inside her mouth as she sucked me into ecstasy. Looking down at a woman who willingly has your cock in her mouth is such an incredibly erotic sight. We both knew that expecting me to last was not an option. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only two minutes I erupted into her mouth for the second time that day. Ive had many blow jobs since that day but never any as good; maybe because they were the first, or maybe Sue was just the best. Feeling momentarily drained but not wanting to stop I was once again amazed at Sue when she stood up and pulled my jeans back up. Fasten them and follow me. Stumbling as I fastened my belt I followed Sue into the lounge. Do you feel better now? she asked with a grin. Ive never felt better in my life I said. You will promised Sue. Now, where were we? Not following her meaning I just looked dumb. I remember she added and wrapped her arms around my neck and continued the kiss of a few moments ago. Unable to fully comprehend this woman I just gave in and responded to the kiss. As her tongue probed my mouth I felt an odd salty flavour before embarrassingly realising what it was. I didn't care and returned Sues passion. It took a few moments to sink in but I eventually appreciated that without the urgency my cock had added to proceedings I was able to enjoy the kiss and embrace loads more. As we were still standing I guided Sue to the sofa and lay her down across it. Then kneeling at her side I continued the kiss. This time I used my hands and fingers to trace the contours of her remarkable face. Fleeting touches with my lips and running my fingers through her soft hair I embarked on an exploration of her. My tongue and lips followed my fingers as they ranged further. Her neck and ears received their due attention. Her low moans told me I was on the right track. I moved my lips to the part of her chest left exposed by the cut of her blouse. I lingered there long enough to undo the blouses top button. Once more I used my lips and tongue, this time on the newly exposed flesh. I repeated the process until I was kissing the skin between her breasts. I was about to move across and explore one of those magnificent globes when something held me back. Instead I proceeded to undo the rest of her blouse. Following my established routine each button undone was followed with rapt attention her skin deserved. The last button exposed her belly button and this I gave extra consideration. I pulled the blouse from her skirt and opened it fully. I leaned back to view the results of my handiwork. Her upper body clad only in a small lacy bra was open to my appreciation. I looked at Sue lying there watching me appraise her body, knowing that a glowing report would follow. Still looking into Sues eyes I let my fingertips explore the exposed skin. Not so soft as to tickle I caressed her flesh until I at last gave in to temptation and cupped a breast. My hand just covered the small breast enabling me to savour it in its entirety. I could feel her erect nipple pressing against my hands palm. I bent down to kiss the other breast, first concentrating on the skin above the bra before taking her lace covered nipple into my mouth. Nice as it was I wanted the real thing. I placed my hand inside the bra and pushed it down to give access to my hungry mouth. Sues moans were becoming louder and more frequent. As I squeezed her nipple between my lips Sue pushed me away and sat up, reached behind her to unfasten her bra and removed it along with her blouse before returning to her prone position. For several seconds I just admired the perfection before me before Sue gently but firmly pulled my mouth back down to her waiting breast. This action gave me my first hint that Sue was just as aroused as I was. It also gave me the idea that I could slow things down a bit and get my own back for her earlier teasing. Moving my mouth away from her nipple I kissed and licked all round without actually touching it. My hand played a similar game around her other breast. After a while I allowed my tongue to just touch the nipple on its path across her breast. Each touch was rewarded with a moan of pleasure. When I finally took a nipple into my mouth Sues hands went to the back of my head and pressed my mouth further onto her nipple. For the first time I used my teeth, hesitantly at first, but the response demanded more pressure. My hand had ceased its gentle caress and now squeezed and massaged her other breast with a firmness I thought would have hurt but just pushed Sue into louder and louder moans. As her moans got louder her hips began to lift from the sofa. I let my spare hand move down onto her skirt and press down on the pussy below. As I felt her sex below the material I pressed my hand hard into her mound. The pressure was increased by her hips rising to meet my hand. Yes! Yes! Ohhh Sue screamed her body seemed to spasm. Her hands forcing my head hard to her breast and her thigh wrapped over my hand trying to maintain the pressure. To think that I was able to produce such a powerful reaction from a woman filled me wonder. Id heard about womens Orgasms and I felt sure that was what Id just witnessed. The pressure on my head relaxed and Sue pulled me to her lips. A soft tender kiss followed by Sues words That was nice. Thank you made me feel fantastic. I didnt know what Sue was thanking me for. It should have been me thanking her. She stood up took my hand and whispered into my ear Bedtime Excitement, trepidation and so many other conflicting emotions fought for control as I followed Sue up to her bedroom, her naked back contrasting with the short black skirt covering her tight arse. Still holding my hand she led me to her bed and sat me down facing her. She bent over and placed her hands oh either side of my face before slowly letting them trail down my torso. Stopping at my waist, her hands gripped my tee shirt and lifted it over my head. She then pushed me back and removed my boots and socks before urging me into the centre of the bed. There, she straddled my thighs and began to rub her hands over my naked chest. As pleasurable as it was I was not prepared for the shock when she squeezed my nipples. No wonder Sue was moaning when I was kissing hers if it felt this good to her. She leaned forward to take my erect buds into her mouth, coating each one in turn with her tongue. At the same time one hand was exploring my upper body bringing tingling pleasure wherever it went. Sue moved her mouth to mine for a sweet lingering kiss before moving down to lick my sensitive stomach. She tried hard to tickle me, giggling when she succeeded. She then sat back up and undid my jeans before standing up and pulling my remaining clothes off. I lay there naked in front of her enjoying her look of appreciation. She returned to the bed to kneel at my side, her hands tracing lines from my knees to my chest, just skirting my aching cock. As she got closer with each pass my body arched trying to guide her hand to where I felt it was needed most. Heeding my desire, Sue allowed her fingers to lightly touch my balls before continuing up the length of my shaft and despite my urgency back up to my stomach. She repeated her actions, each time lingering longer on my balls until eventually she was cupping them gently in her hand. My cock was harder than Id ever known it but Sue still refused to pay it with more than passing interest. She released my balls to lean and give me another soft kiss. Deciding that Id had enough teasing for a while I sat up and pushed Sue onto her back to return the compliment. I desperately wanted to see Sues naked form but thought I also wanted to see her suffer some of the torment her manipulations had inflicted on me. As Id done downstairs to good effect, I started kissing and nibbling her neck before moving on to her hardened nipples. Not waiting as long this time I moved my hand down over her pubic mound. Sues low murmurs of pleasure accompanied my hands. I let me hand move to her knee where I enjoyed the feel of her leg beneath the sheer material of her tights. This was only a minor break as I moved my hand up the inside of her thigh towards her waiting pussy. Imagine my delight when I touched bare skin just under her skirt. Stockings not tights. Idiot I thought to myself. My fingers loitered as my mind appreciated Sues preparation. Unable to resist any longer and prompted by Sue parting her legs I moved my hand to cover her panty covered pussy. Her panties were silk and once again the contrast in textures greatly enhanced my experience. I could immediately feel Sues wetness as I allowed my fingers to stroke her silken panties feeling her swollen pussy lips below. Id intended to skirt her pussy as shed done my cock, but desire and Sues heavy moaning left me too impatient. Suddenly I couldnt wait any longer, I had to see her full beauty. Moving my hand from her pussy I unfastened her skirt and with Sues help pulled it off. I looked down on how to remove this very sexy but unknown piece of underwear known as a garter belt. Then I noticed that Sue was wearing her panties over her suspenders, This made my decision for me; I removed her panties before holding back to view her virtually naked body. Impatience prevented me from devoting the time that view deserved as I too quickly returned my fingers to her pussy. My inexperienced fingers gave some pleasure to Sue but obviously not enough as her hand came down to lead me in the intimate exploration of her body. She guided me to the entrance of her wet pussy, urging my fingers to enter that pleasure cave. I was delighted to discover the intense reaction when I touched the ultra sensitive bud of her clit. Her hand controlled the pressure I exerted to maximise her pleasure and preparing me for a life of pleasing my partner. I moved my head closer to examine her body and was surprised at the powerful aroma emanating from her wet pussy. Taste me Sue ordered. How could I deny this woman anything, so tentatively I moved my mouth to kiss her lower lips. Her fragrance was overpowering, a drug that Ive been addicted to ever since. Cautiously I let my tongue explore where fingers had been. My hesitancy did not last long as I was quickly engrossed in my task. I tried to force my tongue as far into her wet pussy as it would go drinking the nectar my probing tongue produced. I moved around so that my knees were either side of Sues head so that I had the best access to her sopping cunt. As I was flicking my tongue around her pussy it made first contact with her clit. Sues response was electric, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to retain contact with her clit. I let my tongue circle it before squeezing it between my lips. Sues body was bucking as her hips were raised to meet my attentive mouth. I sucked on her as I ran my tongue over the tip of her clit. She came with a force my young mind struggled to comprehend. My head was pulled gently away and I saw the liquid product of her Orgasm. Quickly I lapped up those juices once again probing deep inside her so as not to miss a single drop. Turn round. I need you inside me Sue ordered. The idea of entering a woman for the first time had me scrambling to do as she bid. Positioning myself between her stocking clad legs I lay down on top of her uncertain of exactly how to accomplish my bodys ultimate desire. Luck was with me as my cock instantly found its goal. With a slowness aimed at savouring the moment I slipped my full length into her waiting pussy. The sensations coming from my cock were so exquisite that I paused to prolong that special moment. Sue let out a low cry of pleasure, which triggered my body to do what is so natural. I began to thrust in and out not quite leaving the warmth of her pussy before plunging deep into her again. Almost immediately I could feel my balls preparing to release their load. Harder Sue demanded. I began to thrust as fast and as hard as I could and it wasnt long before I felt Sue start to buck. With her legs around my waist pulling our bodies together, her muscle starting to spasm she had her Orgasm. Her extra activity triggered my own Orgasm as I pumped my first ever load into a womans womb. I came long and hard as all these new feelings excited my nerve ends. I then collapsed onto Sue totally spent. She pushed my shoulders away from her until my hands either side of her head took my weight. Memory probably comes into play here but the look on her face was as satisfied as Ive ever seen. Not bad she said smiling, but Im sure if we practice some more youll improve. My mind, even in its dulled state, immediately picked up on the words more practice and we. Oh yes I was all for that. That night remains one of my best ever, not only because it was my initiation but because of Sue herself. Sue was as good as her word and many other lessons followed although we only managed one more night together. A year later Sue met someone nearer her own age and our meetings dwindled to an end. In hindsight it took me many years to really value just what Sue did for me that day. She took a boy and returned a man who truly appreciates a woman. It was a gift beyond monetary value, one that Ive tried to preserve and pass on. Telephoneman As usual I appreciate all comments, including criticisms. All I ask is that you tell me your sex (if it isnt obvious) as this will help future stories.

Welcome Home Jenny By Toran (3/31/02) Part One: Breakfast The pancakes were cooked just right little delicate bit of crust on the outside and nice and fluffy on the inside. I grinned. Those traits could be applied to at least a few things that came to mind. I delicately cut a larger piece into two and the table shifted slightly. She had come for me. Of course, I had sent her open-dated tickets and was pleasantly surprised that she had some time coming to her and she would be seeing me soon. I wondered if the other nurses and doctors with which she worked so many hours had any idea how she would be spending her holiday. I reached across the table and got the syrup. You could never have enough syrup. This drew a muffled grunt. She hadnt liked the syrup last time but too bad. You can never get enough syrup. Oh, Jenny had been thinking about those days in London. Soon after my return I got a complete recounting of how she and Sue managed to work their way out of the predicament I had left them in. True to Sue, all it took was a few threats from Jenny to get her to work on the ropes I had left Jenny in. Once free, Jenny had made use of the room for the rest of the night, and, of course, Sue had ridden back to the flat they shared in the box that Jenny had been locked in only days before. I poured a thin line of syrup around the remaining short stack of pancakes and then let the trail of Thick Maple and Honey wander a bit. The table squirmed again and grunted. Well, she was always bragging about her perfectly flat stomach. When Id asked her if I could eat off of it, her smug comment had cemented the idea. Seeing her at the airport was actually the first time Id seen Jenny with any clothes on. Funny thing, that. When she came through the security point at OHare I almost didnt recognize her. The last I had seen this woman, she was stretched spread-eagled naked on a hotel room bed and what a fetching sight that had been. If it hadnt been for business, I would have stayed and plundered a little longer. But the woman that walked towards me in faded jeans and blouse that immediately told me there wasnt a bra beneath, black hair neatly cut, smart glasses and confident smile was almost another woman. All it took was one hug, though and I knew it was my Jenny. I ran the syrup line over her belly-button, creating and overflowing a pool that slowly began to run down the sides of her waist. I walked the line even further, down the clean-shaved mound of her pelvis to the opening of her pussy. I found that if you just have a dab coming out and place it just above the first fold of her pussy lips, gravity will do the rest and that stream will just flow right inside. She squirmed, hips bucking, but the silk ropes that I had chosen for breakfast held her tight. I could imagine the subtle teasing the slow moving syrup was giving her. Thats ok, girl nothing compares to having your balls pulled in two different directions. Shed hadnt told her bosses that she was testing the waters over here in the states. This opened up many many wonderful possibilities. My job took me everywhere and seeing my girl from time to time in London or her hometown of Rhudlan would not be that big a deal. Problem was, ever since I had gotten back to the states, she was all I could think about. I thought I knew her before my trip to England, but there in that hotel room, somewhere between the quiet bath Id given her (she was tightly laced with leather straps, of course, and had dribbled hot wax buttons all over the top half of her breasts Im a sadistic bastard, havent I told you?) and the slow passionate love we made the next morning (the straps having dried were gone and replaced with biting lines of thread, heh-heh) I became quite smitten with her. I reached for a sausage link and followed the line of syrup from her belly button to her quivering pussy lips, smearing syrup and drawing a low moan the whole time. Working the tip past the folds of flesh, I softly entered her with the sausage no hard feat as she was coated with syrup and the wetness of her arousal. Her moan dropped in pitch as I worked the sausage in a slow circular motion, sometimes running the tip along the outside folds, sometimes working it inside and every once in a while, brushing it against her little button. But not enough to get her to come my balls were still angry little men, pissed off at being mistreated so. I could tell she liked my house. She made a few comments about being filthy rich, which I wasnt, not exactly, but her eyes sparkled as we drove down the lane to my front door. My uncle had been a very successful real estate man in Milwaukee. He could look at a picture of the Milwaukee sky line (admittedly nothing of the scale of Chicago or New York, but no slouch either) and point to each building he had sold. It was a respectable number. Back in the early to mid 90s, when Rockford was still expanding along the east side of town in a valiant effort to become Chicagos most westerly remote suburb, my uncle had gotten a great deal on wooded farmland. Of course, everyone in the Midwest knows that you cant grow crops in the woods and thats probably why he got such a good deal. He snapped up close to a thousand acres of rolling wooded land along the Pecatonica river, west of Rockford, with the intent of developing an alternative to the East Side condominium rush. And then Rockford fizzled. She was approaching an orgasm I could tell by the frenzied little thrusts of her hips and the steady ungghh noise she was making from behind the silk gag so I pulled the little sausage out of her and ate it. You cant do that with a cigar eat it, anyway. Her hips strained against the silk I had looped around the tops of her thighs and the whining started up. Oh, bitter tease, the better to repay you, my dear. I smoothed up the remainder of the syrup with another forkful of pancake and slid my chair to the head of the table. Her soft brown eyes looked up at me in that distracted female aroused way that sent a little trickle of warmth to my dick. I ran a hand along the silk packing that forced her lips apart, feeling the firmness of the saliva soaked silk and the softness of lips straining around it. She preferred bodge tape gags for their efficiency. I was an artist at heart and could never get enough of lips forced to deal with the intrusion of a gag. Of course, a womans face covered in tape was sexy enough, but I much more preferred to see cheeks puffed out as they accommodate a fat ballgag, or the corners of the mouth folded back from a tight thick cleave gag. And silk was the best if felt so soft and slick as it filled with saliva. I believe it was called a saturation point. Many of Chicagos businessmen loved the idea of the cheaper deals they could find in Rockford and didnt mind the hour or so commute to the Loop. But that was from the East Side. Tack on an additional forty five minutes commuting time to get from the West end of Rockford to the toll way to Chicago and suddenly the deal didnt look so good. So the land went largely undeveloped. My uncle had a good-sized ranch-style mansion built as a retreat of sorts, but I could probably count on one hand the number of times he and his wife stayed there. They were city folk, the kind that love condos because they wouldnt be expected to cut the postage stamp sized lawn in front. The country was not his style. When he passed, God rest his soul, he deeded the land and house to me. Sadly, I can say that most of my wealth has come from my Uncle in the form of never having to make a house payment. And there was the sizable stock portfolio he left to me, but thats private business. Suffice to say, I worked because I enjoyed it, not because I needed it. I kissed her forehead and looked down the table at my bound lady. I had tied her ankles and wrists, of course, with silk to the heavy oak table my spacious but modest dining hall. Loops of silk ran above and below her nicely sized breasts (more than a mouthful is a waste, as my college roommate had once said). More silk held her thighs and calves to the table. How I loved her calves. She had runners legs and, true to her word, one could eat off her flat belly. But time was a wasting. Dawn was due back from Chicago and shed phoned to say that the surprise was with her. I still had a few things to prepare and it was a beautiful spring day here in the Midwest. Besides, Jenny was all sticky and it would take some time to get her licked clean. Part 2: Meet Teri Shed seen the house, of course, in my tour the first day shed arrived. Small comments about being filthy rich was duly noted and filed under the Punishment Paddling section of the Smart-Mouth slave file. Jenny could put you down with just a few words and she seemed pleased at this ability. I was pleased at her hunger to be pushed further, and that necessitated a visit to my retreat in the woods. That would come tomorrow, until I could think my little plan through completely. Shed luxuriated so far, and even gotten the best of me with the ball-stretching incident (I would never let on that she could slice into my submissive side like a knife in butter she was that focused and efficient that would be encouraging her and I got the feeling that this girl rarely needed encouragement, a little love and snuggling sometimes and that was Sues and my department). In short, shed gotten me to let her tie me down to the bedposts wrists, ankles, balls. The last was the bitch of it. I was still sore from her riding me to one strained orgasm and then riding me some more my dick laced up with leather straps had little choice but to stay hard. Today, she would get a taste of my exercise room. Buried deep in the second level of the basement the first occupied by my wine cellar and those needed things that didnt belong up in the living area the exercise room adjoined the punishment room. My household was not completely strict, but it wasnt a lazy affair either. My two Primaries were Dawn, called One for short, and Teri, called Two (hey, I could have taken the time to come up with elaborate names, of course, but the point was that they served me and in all instances not relating to the real world, they were simply my One and Two servants). Dawn, was my secretary, assistant and an ex. Id met her in college, lived with her, introduced her simultaneously to BDSM, marriage, and Gin. All in that order. It was the last that caused us to part ways. The divorce was messy and I was shocked to shit when she phoned some five years later and asked to reconcile. Id done a little 24/7 with the girl that had turned out to be my second wife we met in an AOL chatroom, figured that the bondage would keep us together, then blamed the other when it didnt. So I was a little hesitant to get back with Dawn. But shed pestered me a bit, then, over drinks, shed made an amazing proposition: She wanted to be my contracted slave. Seems shed been taken by our forays into bondage when we were together and had hit the net hard, having her share of brief encounters. When all was said and done, she still loved me and wanted to be with me and thought the solution would be a slave contract, in which we both benefited from a relationship with one captain, not two. About this time, my Uncle passed away and I came into wealth like rolling out of bed. It seemed like a great idea to staff my little abode with someone who really knew the word servant. We had a little ceremony in the dining hall amid candles and incense and she formally became One. You see, Id been taken with the whole 24/7 thing that I had already planned at least a Two, maybe even a Three, if I found that handling three women was as good as it sounded. I met Teri at a local munch. Id been reluctant to go to anything like that, but Dawn was into intense whipping and I was a novice. We attended a whipping demonstration and the slave that got the worst of it was Teri. Dawn gravitated to her, email addresses were exchanged, and in no time, there was a second ceremony in the hall. My life was changed forever maintaining not one but two slaves was a chore. But the chore had its payouts. Teris primary duties were to do all the driving, except those times when I had to associate with my fellow co-workers (I did most of my work at home, so those times were few and far between) and to maintain the kitchen and housekeeping. With any luck, Jenny would enter the fold. I had a notion that Three didnt suit her shed probably move right to the top of the class. But that was in the future. At that moment, walking her down the steps to the exercise/punishment level, she was still my Jenny, not a silly number. Who knows? Maybe shell never be a number Teri, all 5-5 of her, was strapped into the walker machine. The bangs of her lustrous brunette hair was pasted across her forehead, while sparkling green eyes watched us approach over flushed red cheeks. A servant using the walker learned quickly to breath through her nose as her mouth was tightly plugged. She learned to walk with her arms strapped behind her in the custom armbinder. Last, she learned to keep up the pre-programmed pace, as her little nipples were clamped by their rings to the front of the machine. Both One and Two were ringed in three places one each gracing their nipples, and a neat row of three rings on either side of their pussy lips. The nip rings got most of the work-out, but the pussy rings were great for chastity, not that chastity was a problem when they wore their chastity belts, but the little locks would come out for trips to the outside world. Teris lithe body, a product of the mandatory two hour a day work-out, was covered with a sheen of sweat. She lowered her eyes as we approached, but I caught a sidewise stare at Jenny that was also filed away in the Punishment Folder. I walked up alongside the machine and reached in to tug on the wide band of the four buckled ball gag the girls didnt quite grasp the concept of tight gags and were constantly guilty of letting the things go slack. Jenny was watching the machine closely. It was a basic treadmill with the added enhancements of clips for the nips up front, and a waist cincher / armbinder that stopped the whole thing if the servant fell behind and slid off the back. Of course, the waist cincher had a large dildo and butt-plug fitted to it and the armbinder was spring locked to open at the end of the prescribed workout time. Teri was diligently trying to look straight ahead and it was only me that caught that gleam in Jennys eye. Not taking her eyes off the naked and sweat glistening body striding before her, she asked, How fast does this thing go? Really, can it do a sprint? I took her hand and walked her to the front, showing her the speed controls. Teris eyes were getting wider by the second. Jenny was a distance runner she was a great example of what a beautifully athletic body a female could be by running. Teri, unfortunately, was not running. Yet. So, all I have to do is press this speed button a few times, like this The machines whine went up a pitch and Teri grunted. Her brisk walking pace was suddenly a light jog. The strain on her nips as she fought to keep the thin chain slack was all that was on her mind. After a few moments, in which Jenny contentedly watched Teri struggle to keep the pace shed already been on the machine for over an hour Jenny again reached over and pressed the button a few times. The machine began to hum and a quick look at Teris stretched nipples gave me the idea that the poor girl was getting into a bit of trouble. Teri frantically looked to me and I could see the beginning of tears mixing with the sweat on her brow. Her body was forced into an odd swaying motion by the speed her legs were forced to run and the useless hands lost behind her and unable to provide momentum. I leaned into Jennys ear. Maybe you would like to try this thing. She continued to look at Teri but nodded her head. Of course, you get the full works, I whispered in her ear, my arm reaching around her waist and finding a hard nipple. Sign me up, she said. It was only a few moments and the girls positions were reversed. Jenny had immediately balked at the gag, but after I had the waist belt locked on and its features firmly inserted in both her ass and puss and her arms tightly strapped behind her, she had little choice but to scowl as I methodically buckled the gag tightly on. She also wanted to attach the nipple clamps herself, but I gave Teri this honor. Eyes never leaving Jennys, Teri firmly clamped each of Jennys long nipples, and then tightened the screw a few turns. As Jenny whined into the gag, Teri kissed her gently on the cheek and set the walker to a good walking pace. I leaned into the machine and pumped the speed up to a good run. Im a sadistic bastard Jenny would have to loosen up on the fly. With a sharp slap to Jennys ass, Teri and I went upstairs for a bit. An hour would get Jenny nice and limber. Part Three: Hello Sue While I was busy unstrapping a now weary Jenny from the walker machine, careful not to give her too much freedom she had a long day ahead of her and the next few hours would require she stay bound and relatively docile, Dawn was waiting beyond the security area at OHare. She held a picture in her hand and alternated between peering at the trickle of passengers getting out of customs and the pretty naked blonde in the picture. Finally, her eyes tracking a plainly dressed woman with blond hair cascading over her shoulders, a smile came to Dawns lips and she said, Well, hello, Sue Jennys eyes were fatigued. She was an excellent distance runner in fact, she preferred to jog every day and Id had quite the time keeping up with her as we raced the narrow walking paths meandering through my land. So her battle with the walking-machine-turned-running-machine would have been hers to win, except for the armbinder harness. When you loose the momentum of your arms, youve lost the race. Teri had the body harness all ready to go and it was no time before Jenny was caught like a fly in the spider-web of leather straps that criss crossed her chest and boobs, drew the armbinder tight to her back, and buried the waist-cincher with those wonderful attachments even deeper into her. I added a strap around her knees as a hobble and we were ready to go. Are you Sue? The blond stopped, her travel case rolling up to bump her in the back of the calf. Sue eyed the mousey brown haired Dawn with a hint of suspicion, her eyes traveling down past Dawns large boobs and athletic 5-5 body. Dawn handed her the note Id written and gotten Jenny to sign blindfolded, of course. It was so easy to get someone to do something for you when they were strapped down and held on the brink of orgasm for an hour or so. Sue glanced at the note, reading it only once, then gave Dawn a nervous smile. I guess Im in your hands. Dawn grabbed the handle of the travel case, directed Sue to the parking ramp exit, and tried very hard to suppress a full-fledged grin. Knowing Dawn, it was very easy to see the candy canes and sugar plums dancing in her head at that moment. It was a nippy spring day. Temperature was in the upper fifties nice for an invigorating walk. Quite the bitch if youre strapped and naked and forced to hobble along on bare feet and tired legs. But sometimes it was a bitch being Jenny, especially when I had my sights set on a little sadistic discipline. With Teri keeping a discrete pace behind us, I took the opportunity to teach Jenny how to identify some of the multitude of aviary life we have here in the Midwest. I would have loved to ask her which birds they also had over in Rhudlan, but the poor girl was well and truly gagged and I had the idea that the first words out of her mouth would not have been Robin Red Breast, had I popped the gag out. Still, I enjoyed the walk. I wanted to keep up a brisk pace as I hadnt had my morning work-out and every time Jenny failed to keep up, Teri was right behind her with the crop. The first two swats were really all it took to get Jenny on the right pace, and I suspected that it wasnt just fatigued that caused the third through twenty or so swats that followed the girl may actually be acquiring a taste for the crop. We covered the mile or so distance from the house to the twin silos in little more than fifteen minutes. By that time, Jennys nips were straining from the chill morning air while her tight butt was awash in tiny red crop marks. She glared at me over flushed cheeks, a thin line of drool dripping unladylike down her breast. What a wonderful sight. Oh, its good to be king The Rolls was a special vehicle. What made it special were the subtle modifications Id had done to accommodate its purpose. Sue was about to experience one of the better ones. Dawn popped the trunk and gently stowed Sues travel case inside. Then, with the air of a top-rate chauffeur, she opened the door to the spacious passenger area and helped Sue inside. The instant the door closed Sue heard the unmistakable click of the door locks shutting. Watching Dawn walk around the front of the Rolls, she nervously tested the handles and found that she was, indeed, locked in. Whether that was her first touch of fear is hard to say. Sue was a tough cookie, but utterly subbie at heart. To say that she trusted me would be a joke. But Jenny had written the letter and if Jenny had wanted this, then Sue would accept it. Only Jenny could make Sue do anything and it was Jenny and Jenny alone, that Sue obeyed without question. Dawn made no effort to talk to Sue, as the Rolls slipped into the OHare traffic circle she kept the sliding partition closed. So Sue was left with her thoughts, locked into the passenger compartment of a Rolls-Royce, gliding through American traffic, tired from a long flight, and probably just a little nervous at what her immediate future held for her I popped the lock on the second of the twin silos and the small metal door squealed loudly. The first was a real operating silo. The farmer that owned the land just north of me needed extra storage from time to time and I leased the first silo out to him. Of course, there were a few provisions to the lease, one of which Jenny was about to discover. The second silo was mine and few, save my servants, had ever been allowed inside, for obvious reasons. Standing some hundred feet in the air and roughly twenty feet in diameter, both silos looked like tall torpedoes, ready to launch at the sky. The first held last falls corn harvest. The second held instruments of my world Dawn was an excellent driver and even though Sues initial unease at driving down the wrong side of the road was slowly put to rest, the traffic was a sight. But in no time, Dawn had pointed the Rolls westward and Sue settled in for a comfortable ride. The smoky privacy panel between the driving and passenger compartments slid aside and Dawn smiled back at Sue in the watchers mirror. Feel free to have a drink Toran has seen to it that there is plenty of London Gin and a bottle of tonic in the little fridge just in front of you. Were about an hour out of Rockford. The tonic, of course, was drugged. Mess with a bottle of Tangueray Gin and Ill be forced to kill you. But tonic? Who cared about carbonated soda. By Sues third sip of the Gin and tonic she was feeling decidedly sleepy. Her fourth sip cautioned her to place the glass in the holder in front of her. She never took a fifth sip. And somewhere near the old Shireland Horse Park, west of the Fox River Valley but still a bit east of Rockford, the Rolls took an exit that lead to trouble for Sue The foyer of the silo was actually a few steps up, once you walked inside. I had re-built the inside of the silo so it was basically a round, ten story building. Each floor catered to a different vice and in time, Jenny would visit each. But for now, we were going to the sub floor the one with the ingenious additions added, inspired by non other than the strapped and hobbled and exhausted girl at my side. Jenny grunted as we took the few steps down into the bowels of the silo. Typically, the concrete floor of a silo is at ground level. This was still ground level. What I had done is raise the area around the silo so that you were actually entering the silo at a level above ground. In the time before I met Jenny, I used this open concrete area for storage sometimes when a new piece of torture equipment would arrive and I was just too busy to get to it, it would end up here until one of the girls would literally beg me to get it into operation. But since Jenny, Id had another idea and that one was going to get its trial run today. There were only two things in this lower, dungeon-like area of the silo. A steel stake, sunk in the concrete floor, six inches high with an eyehole in the top, and a knotted rope that hung from the ceiling a few feet from the stake. It was to the stake that I led Jenny and once positioned so her free ankles straddled the rod, I laced her to it with a length of rope produced by Teri number one priority of both my servants was that they carried with them the means to be bound and made helpless. Teri was a rope girl Dawn loved straps. Jenny was looking about the place, not minding the work I was doing to her feet to make sure she would be unable to leave this position in the center of the silo. She was actually surprised when I popped the gag out of her mouth. Working her jaw a little, she managed to get at least one curse out before I motioned Teri to slap her ass with the crop. I leaned in and kissed her. She tasted as good as always and I wanted to continue long after Teri impatiently cleared her throat. That would cost her a thorough whipping later, but with a girl like Teri, you never knew how much punishment was coaxed Dawn went to work quickly. We didnt want Sue out very long as the little camera set into the side of the fridge was to record the rest of her trip to Rockford. Gently relieving Sue of her clothes, Dawn paused to cup one of Sues very nicely shaped boobs and, posing for the camera, licked the nipple to hardness. Carefully, she slid Sue a little to the side of the leather seat and worked the hidden latches on the center seat portion. The cushion was pushed away and Dawn pulled out what looked like a latex sheath, anchored at all sides to the seat frame. Sue was worked into a sitting position directly in the center and then the latex sheet was brought up around her, like a cocoon. Dawn pulled the tight latex up Sues sleeping body, pausing at Sues breasts to work each into separate openings of the sheet that had reinforced wiring around it. With Sues breasts now poking out through the sheet like two fleshy pears the only bit of flesh visible now, save Sues head - Dawn tightened both sets of wire rings, effectively snugging up the latex at the base of Sues boobs. The collar came next. Heavy leather and three inches high, the bottom attached tightly to the latex that now covered Sues body tightly, molding her to center of the Rolls seat. As the last buckle of the collar was locked, Sue started to come around. Wed worked on the timing very carefully, me and the two girls. We knew with relative precision how much drug had to be ingested and how long Sue would be out. Dawn was right on schedule. Wasss thisssssss Sue murmered, slowly realizing that she was snuggly encased in latex. Dawn smiled, winked at the camera and flicked a switch at the base of the seat. Somewhere in the trunk compartment a little machine kicked in and began sucking the air out of the latex cocoon that trapped Sue. The effect was stunning. Very quickly, the latex seemed to melt into Sue and every part of the pretty blondes body was molded to the seat. The openings for her boobs had a wonderful effect as it thrust her two already large breasts out even more. Sue sucked in her breath in surprise, the last of the drug leaving quickly. Panic hit her hard and just as the first shriek of fear started to escape her lips, Dawn swung over and smothered her mouth with kisses. Her legs straddling the cocooned Sue, Dawns hands gently massaged Sues nipples to hardness and it was only moments before Sues shrieks turned to moans, then a contented hum that came from deep in her throat. Later, watching the video, I was impressed at Sues ability to ride one orgasm after the other, all while lost in her tight vacuum bag. As for Dawn, shed hump anything that was wearing latex Toran, what awful predicament have you got me in now? Jennys eyes were sparkling and I could tell she was very interested and very aroused. This girl was amazing in what she would try she was like a mummification adventurer, always seeking new ways to become mummified and loving just about all of them. I put a finger to her lips then motioned Teri to go upstairs to the control platform. Youll love this, girl. Believe me. At a nod to Teri who was now in position, a shiny new metal door in the top of the area, close to the ceiling opened and immediately, a strong flood of corn poured out hitting the concrete floor like water from a burst dam. We watched the torrent for a few minutes as it was making a nice pile on the floor a few feet away from where Jenny was tethered. Jenny slowly turned her head towards me, the smile gone but the gleam in her eyes like a beacon. Well, Ill be fucked. Not yet, dear. I motioned to Teri and three more doors opened around the diameter of the silo and now there were four growing piles of corn, completely surrounding us. It was only a matter of seconds before the first of the corn covered our feet. I leaned into Jenny again, finding her lips and this time she tried as best she could to press her strapped body into mine. The sound of the falling corn was deafening and by the time we had corn up to our knees I wanted to fuck this girl right into tomorrow. Part Four: Cornbread I grabbed the rope hanging from the ceiling and pulled myself up and out of the waist-high corn with all my might. Just like water, the void was filled instantly. Jennys eyes were closed, and she seemed quite calm, considering that she was slowly being buried in corn bound from head to toe with straps and unable to do anything about it. Shed been mummified a hundred different ways, trapped in boxes, encased in expandable foamNow she was being buried alive in a common vegetable. Carefully, so as not to be sucked under like quick-sand, I stayed above the rising corn, using the rope to get me close to Jenny. No sense in trying to talk. She was slipping into subbie space and I was just content to watch. I glanced up at Teri at the controls and she had a pleasant look on her face methinks she would have given a few whippings to be in Jennys place right now Dawn was quite the tour-guide. Not often was she privileged to drive one of my captives around as long as she liked. The plan was for her to have Sue until late in the afternoon, just before dinner, and with this being slightly after mid-day, she was showing Sue all the sights. It was a one-way conversation, though, as Sues mouth was filled with and inflatable latex gag, pumped up so her cheeks puffed out nicely. Totally unable to do anything but breath and move her eyes to the left or right, in response to Dawns pointing out of Rockfords landmarks, Sue was taking her captivity well. Her exposed boobs had turned a lovely shade of pink then red then purple and somewhere around the Belvidere Oasis, Dawn and thoughtfully clamped both nips. As the Rolls swung out along Highway 73 and towards my place, Dawn checked her watch and decided that sightseeing was over she wanted to get Sue up to her room so she could freshen her up before dinner I casually flicked first one nipple then the next, trying to make the most of the few moments left when I could actually get to them. The level of corn was fast climbing up her body. I lay across the top, holding firmly to the rope, pulling myself up continuously to stay above the flood. Jennys face was serene, not at all panicked and I was struck by her complete trust in me. Were the positions reversed and I had Jennys face peering at me as I was being buried alive, I think a few disparaging thoughts would have crossed my mind. It was at that moment, watching her gracefully accept my latest torture, that I decided that I was going to get her something really special, something she would love. I filed the thought away, to act on it later. For now, the corn had just crested her collarbone and I motioned for Teri to cut off the flow. From somewhere deep in the bowels of the second silo, the auger that fed the corn into this silo ground to a halt. The flood out the four doors in this silo slowed to a trickle then halted totally. This silence was deafening. Jenny? Are you ok? She gave no response and a sharp fear struck my heart. I had worried about crushing her there were stories galore about farmers getting caught in one of these and getting dead pretty quickly. But I had calculated that she would not be crushed with this amount. I reached out with one hand and caressed her face, the other hand holding to the rope for dear life I was sure that I would be swallowed by the corn in a matter of minutes were I to loose my grip and try to swim out. She gave no indication of life and my caress turned into a gentle slap. Her eyes flew open and she scowled. Well I was going to say gotcha but after that Ill say ouch, you bastard! I patted her cheek, grinning. How does it feel? I could see she was trying to move under the sea of corn and she did manage some movement in her shoulders were she not bound with straps already, she may have been able to somehow work free enough to get to the rope. Of course, her ankles were tethered to the floor so even that would have been an impossibility. It is like thousands of tiny needles pressing into me at once I cant move much at all. She gave me a glare. You are a bastard. This is not very pleasant. I strained and gave her a kiss. I watched your face, dear Jennifer you are not that discomforted. Beside, youd better get used to it. I started to pull myself up the rope. This is how youll be spending your afternoon. Im going to sew your nutsack to your dick the next time you fall asleep, you bastard! I climbed up onto the platform next to Teri. Two, make a note that Jenny is to be restrained for the duration of her stay at least whenever Im sleeping. Teri smiled, looking down at Jenny. Noted, boss.

DO YOU WANT TO CONTINUE? By Toran (5/20/02) It's the look in his eyes that sends a shiver down her spine. The intensity. She stands naked before him, the cool and dank air of the burial chamber he's made just for her drawing gooseflesh on her skin. Dawn and Teri, Toran's two loyal servants, barely notice her as they scurry around her making final preparations for her burial. Sent to Egypt last winter to undergo intensive training in the rituals and procedures required to completely and authentically mummify her and bury her in her custom made sarcophagus, both girls seem to assume the focus and aloofness of the high priestesses they now represent. Jenny folds her arms across her chest and rubs her elbows to generate heat. All around her, in the bowels of the stone pyramid Toran has built for her nestled deep in the recesses of his sprawling Midwestern ranch compound, the native Midwestern sandstone walls of the burial chamber permeate a wet chill. She looks up into the darkness above her, into the shadows that not even the torches ringing the chamber can penetrate. He loves her. It's there in everything he does. Behind the massive expense of creating this authentic pyramid - the burial chamber and the sarcophagus alone has set him back almost a quarter million dollars it's his understanding that this is her dream, her most sacred fantasy. She closes her eyes remembering a white blanket of snow covered the sprawling world that was Toran's ranch, now a pale silver in the cold light of the midnight moon. Toran rolled over and fetched the carafe of Jenny's favorite brandy. He seemed not to notice the candles about the bedroom had sunk further into their pots over the last few hours, time spent not fucking and hurting and binding, but talking. Jenny's once mint-condition skin had taken on a healthy pattern of welts and whip marks, and his fingers brushed a particularly nasty one adorning her shoulder as he poured her a refill of brandy. She winced and shot him a glare. "Some day, dear Toran, you will get yours." She lay back on her side and slid the down comforter up over her shoulder, covering the wound. He brushed her lips with his and when he pulled away, that there was an intensity in his eyes. Her breath caught in her chest and whether the third glass of brandy was totally responsible or not, a drove of butterflies took flight in her belly. And where they flew they spread warmth. A tingling that got her heart beating fast. "The supreme sacrifice," he whispered, and the words worked the warmth even deeper into her body. To hear the words from his mouth, his eyes boring into her, she willed her hands to raise the brandy glass to her lips anything to break the spell that settled in on her like a heavy blanket. Or the tight wrappings that were the skinny of all her fantasies. She smiled and nudged the bridge of her glasses up higher on her nose. "The supreme sacrifice is when you knowingly and willingly allow yourself to be bound and sealed away forever." Even hearing the words pour from her lips sent ripples through her and she took another sip from her brandy. He frowned, bushy blonde eyebrows furrowed over those intensely piercing eyes. "Forever. Surely she wouldn't last forever." He took a sip of his own brandy. "Not without help, anyways. An interesting problem to solve." He rolled over onto his back, eyes distantly staring at the flickering shadows on the ceiling and she should have rolled atop him then, straddling his body, showering him in kisses, anything to break the train of thought that had started that night. But she lay there, motionless save the glass of brandy that found its way to her lips, and let him think, the fire of dark unease spreading out from her belly nearly consuming her. She had already snuck a hand beneath the covers to gently stroke her throbbing little button, the brandy mixing well with the heady thoughts of forever, fucking forever entombed and helpless - when he stirred and traced a finger along her breast. Is that what you want, Jenny? Would you go that far? His words, spoken softly in the light of the dying candles seemed to carry a power that rushed her almost to the brink of orgasm. She willed her straying hand and dancing fingers out from under the warm comforter and rolled over so she could see his face. Her heart skipped into overdrive when instead of seeing the little smirk of his lips and crinkle around his eyes signs that he was being a smart-ass she saw the soberness of his face, the set of his jaw. He was serious. She giggled a little nervous giggle, staring deeply into his eyes. He had the power to do it. With his money and engineering mind and her medical knowledge and desire it could be done. The supreme sacrifice. How far would she go? Hell, she didnt know for sure. The body, driven by insane desire can agree to many things in the pursuit of pleasure it can endure pain, crushing restraint, endless hours of torture. It can be made a product. From the moment she let the ropes pull her wrists together, she was a product. The first click of a padlock on the chain around her ankle, and she was a product. The pressure of a mouth filling gag, cutting off her speech the only defense you have when hes already tied your body and made you helpless, and you are a product. A product to be dealt with. But this was different. This was as deep you could get inside her. This was the strongest, darkest fantasy she kept locked away daring it to come forward as she wrote her stories about it, almost taunting it, as you would taunt a gorilla with a stick from behind the bars of its cage. But this was real. This was the zookeeper locking you in handcuffs and opening the cage. This was the gorilla having its way with you. This was the first threshold. All she had to do was utter the word that would get him moving. He didnt fuck around. With a project in front of him, Toran was the ultimate in efficiency. And he loved her. This project he would do for her out of love. This was real, very fucking real. Still boring into her with his eyes, he reached for her brandy and set it on the nightstand waiting for her answer. Would she go that far? Would she allow herself to be entombed? Forever? She closed her eyes and felt the blood thundering in her ears. How often does someone give your darkest fantasy life? Yes. she catches him staring at her, his eyes roaming from her face to her taut and straining nipples. She knows that in any other setting, any other time, hes reaching for the clamps. A hard nipple is a shame to waste - one of his favorite sayings. But this isn't any other time. This is her time. All this is for her. "Just another few seconds, love, while I run the last of the code through." He's sitting at the main console, discreetly hidden in one of the ceremonial pallets ringing the chamber. After the last episode in the sarcophagus, its trial run, all controls, from the massive hoist used to move the heavy teak-wood lid, to the complex computer system that would control the flow of air to the sarcophagus itself all are set to Toran's hand. She follows his quick glance to where Dawn is busy readying the oils and perfumes The whip slapped hard across Dawn's back and ass, adding another red line of blood to the criss-cross pattern. The brunette's head bobbed back on her neck and her scream filled the burial chamber. Sweat stood out on Jenny's forehead as she raised her arm again. One of the things Toran had taught her was the effective use of a whip. Her form was still a beginners but she was learning. Dawn's shoulders were heaving as silent sobs wracked her body. Teri was the painslut Dawn was into severe bondage, probably the reason for the immediate and intense rivalry she brought on Jenny. Even though she'd been married to Toran years before while both were in college she in Accounting and he in Engineering her contract specifically made her a powerless servant to her once husband and now permanent Master. To say there was history between Dawn and Toran was an understatement. That's why when Dawn had tried to kill Jenny in her own sarcophagus, severe retribution was called for. In the end, after Dawn was cut down and had been sealed herself for a time in the sarcophagus as punishment, Jenny had felt a pang of jealousy. To be sealed in, not knowing when release would come, if ever "This is a special collar." Toran stands before her, an ornate golden band, three inches thick in his hands. "Let me slide it on." His hands are warm and gentle and she feels a strong surge of something flow through her. It's that warm flock of butterflies again and something else something that is like ice water trickling deep insider her belly, adding to the chill air of the tomb. She is drawing closer and closer, with every moment, every carefully thought out preparation. The collar is surprisingly heavy for its apparent delicacy and the sharp click it makes as the ends are drawn together has a sound of finality. "This is a sound activated collar. It has many features, when activated by the sound in your throat." He backs away, all smiles and reaches for a small plastic box. Jenny runs her finger around the collar lightly, its smooth metal surface so tight, like a second skin it fits her slender neck, all the while eyeing Toran as he slips a small container from the box. He pops open the container and fishes inside, pulling out something jelly-like between his fingers. A smile flashes across her face. Maybe her lover isnt infallible after all. The thought warms her a little stills the trickle of ice water in her belly. This mistake at least, brings things down a little. Ummm, Toran. I cant wear contacts. My eyes are beyond correction from contacts- She stops, his smirk bringing the chill back with a rush. These are special contacts. He reaches up and gently slides her glasses off. Immediately, she is in the blurred and unsettling world shes plunged into whenever her glasses are off. Now, more than ever, a feeling of nakedness and vulnerability hit her and she reaches for Toran, wondering if this all is a good idea maybe they should stop right now and continue with the minor fantasies. The normal mummification scenes shes been doing all her life. But she sees him lean close to her and feels his reassuring kiss. Open your eyes wide. Shes always hated the feeling of anything touching her eyes, but hes both quick and gentle and before she knows it, shes looking at him in half blur, half total clarity. Shes astounded with the sharpness of the world that her contacted eye shows her. Then the sting hits. Her eye waters up and intense pain closes it. Are you ok? Torans whisper in her ear. Here, let me see. But its not the eye that is screaming in pain that he touches, its her other eye she feels opened and quickly covered with the other contact. She looks up at him, confusion flaring, then the sting in her other eye hits her and she almost bends over, palms rubbing and trying to sooth her watering eyes. He pulls her arms away and whispers, These are special contacts, Jenny, with a special saline solution. Thats whats burning. Let them set for a second. They hurt. Shes not used to anything in her eyes and they hurt like a bastard. But soon, as Toran holds her, her naked breasts and tummy pressing into him, the pain does fade. Ive never tried contacts before. I didnt know they hurt so much. Toran pulls back and holds her at arms length. Everything is somehow clearer, crisper every line of his face every detail, every pore of his skin is there. And shes been told that her glasses give her 20/20 vision. These contacts have special features. The most important is that they are a liquid permeable lens they dont require air in the way normal contacts do and that means that they dont require a wetting solution. The special saline solution I used is all they will ever need. That means youll never have to take them out and you can sleep in them. He pauses. In fact, the saline, once set, will bond the lens to your eyes. Permanently. She looks up at him. You mean I cant get them off? His words are cool, almost clinical. They are setting right now. Once completely set, they will be permanently glued to your eye. Theres still time to get them out. Do you want to continue? The cool embrace of the satin sheet was lost from her skin as she lay in his bed - she couldnt move a muscle and he still had a few more rolls of tape to tightly wind around her body. This was his first experience in mummifying her and he already seemed like a pro. Only her head remained free of the med-wrap and tape. The feeling of every nerve ending pounding away with blood restricted flesh was giving her that giddy, tingling feeling and she barely heard his voice, his head inches from hers. Do you want to continue, Jenny? This is your last chance before I treat you like a product. I mean, I could do that now and there isnt anything you can do to stop me. He reached down squeezed her wrapped breasts harshly. But I will always give you a last chance. Every time. After this, you are merely a product to be dealt with. My toy. He held up the thick roll of gauze that would cover her face and entomb her completely. But only if she agreed. Only if she said Yes. He kisses her long and slow, appreciation clear on his face. "Give me your hand." He presses a thin piece of metal into her palm and wraps it snugly against her flesh with thin tape. "This is a transmitter I've designed. It sends a signal to a stronger, more powerful transmitter located in the sarcophagus which will then signal back to the master computer here." He slips a small metal fingertip over her finger, smaller but similar to the heart and blood pressure sensors at the hospital where Jenny works so far far away in England. "Now for your surprise," he says, once again standing back away from her. "Gently tap your fingertip to the metal plate in your palm." She smiles uncertainly at him, trying to read the sharply focused look in his eyes. This same look is the one he wears when he's deeply into his world, the world of gears and computers and engineering problems. Gently she taps the metal plate and her world changes. Almost a dissolving effect, she's suddenly way up in some unknown dark location, looking down. Sudden fear of falling causes her to reach out and she feels someone in front of her, steadying her yet in her field of vision she's high up looking down atthem. The ring of torches circle the massive sarcophagus her sarcophagus. Standing before it is her. Toran is holding her. He turns and looks up, over his shoulder at her. He's waving and grinning. "Tap the pad again, dear." Her world changes again and she's looking at the side of his head as he looks up into the darkness above them, one arm holding her the other waving to a small blinking red light far up. She's back on the ground and her feet almost give way. He turns and steadies her with both hands. "It's your contacts, love. They're tied into the camera system. You can switch views with the tap of the control pad." He fits a similar metal fingertip to each of her fingers. "Just one tap of any of your fingers will take you to a different camera. Try it again." Taking a deep breath and preparing herself for the instant vertigo, Jenny lightly taps the same finger to the pad. Again, she's up in the darkness looking down. Suddenly the view zooms, a hellish rush that again makes her feel like she's falling, and she's looking at her own face from only inches away. "The sensors imbedded in the contacts can read the dilation of your pupils and adjusts the camera accordingly. If you focus on something far away the camera zooms. Move your head." She sees her head begin to move to the right and the camera shifts so she's looking at Dawn, still working with the oils on the far side of the chamber. Again the vertigo slams into her and she twists her head back to where she thinks Toran is. The camera rotates back and she's again looking at herself. "Try another finger." She taps her middle finger to the plate and she's looking at the front of the entrance to the burial chamber. Panning back and around, she sees the outside world, warm and sunny and spring. Tapping another finger she sees the close confines of the sarcophagus, from somewhere near where her feet will be but with a perfect view of the death mask resting there waiting for her. She taps the last finger, her pinky finger and her world goes black. "The last camera isn't in place yet. That's my surprise." She taps the pinky pad again and she's again looking at Toran from her own body. The wolfish look in his eyes, the second before they soften and he becomes Toran again chills her to the bone. The transition is so sudden that instantly she wonders if she's seen the first look there at all that cold, intelligently appraising look "So with an IV and ventilator, you can basically keep the body alive for a very long time." Jenny laid the brandy back on the mahogany nightstand and pulled the comforter up around her. The giddy chill was back. She'd always been drawn to guys who made her feel that way. When a girl was made a product, she was in the hands of her captor. And the darker and more mysterious and dangerous her captor was, the stronger that giddy chill feeling was. There was always something dark trolling beneath Toran's surface. But like the Loch Ness monster, sometimes she'd wondered if it was really there. He was a sadist true, and that was dark enough. But there was something else. Something possibly worse. "Yes, until the muscle cell content goes to hell, you can even snap everything off and they'll get up and walk away from it. But eventually you will get pooling of the blood, swelling, possibility of blood clots and pulmonary embolism. There's calcium depletion which can cause kidney stones. Over time, many of the vital organs will suffer extreme deterioration due to diet alone there isn't an IV in the world that can keep everything the body needs alive and well." She sipped from her brandy again, unable to shake the warm and fuzzy feeling mingled with fear. "But, all in all, I could survive a long time." He raised his eyebrows, a slow smile creeping across his face. "You?" Jenny flushed and took another sip of brandy Toran busies himself again with the last preparations and it is Teri that brushes past Jenny, her white Priestess robe flowing around her. Teri matches Dawns intensity in her feelings for Jenny, except that with Teri, its the other way around. Jenny has wondered in the past that were Toran out of the way, Teri would be with her, maybe fly back and live with her and her roommate, Sue. On the occasions where Toran has allowed Jenny to punish Teri, Jennys gotten the distinct feeling that Teri quite enjoyed it enjoyed Jennys hand in her pain. There was even one night Jenny slid the silk scarf through Teris lips and the brown haired girl accepted the gag with doe-eyed submission. Earlier in the day, Teri had been most interested in fisting and it hadnt taken long for Jenny to find the time and place to introduce Teri to one of Jennys favorite pleasures. Teri lay on her own silk sheets, wrists cuffed to the headboards, legs nervously flexing around Jennys torso. Jenny had gotten her in the mood with little nips to her breasts and neck and now Teris head rolled from side to side in anticipation. Jenny slowly moved down Teris torso until Teris closely cut brown pubic hair was ripe for the parting. Gently, Jenny slid three fingers into the moist outer lips and Teri moaned through the scarf. With her thumb stroking the little nub of Teris clit, Jenny felt the girls pelvis rise up. A fourth finger was added and then the thumb as Teris moans got deeper and louder Dawn pulls Jennys hair back off her shoulders, and none too gently. Now the busty brunette is standing in front of her, coldly avoiding Jennys eyes and laying the tray of oils at her feet. Toran stands and taps a few keys on his console, then comes over. These are authentic oils I had flown back with Dawn and Teri when they finished their training in Egypt. Lets see, this is a mixture of frankincense, myrrh, palm, lotus, and cedar. This is to keep bacteria from setting into the husk of the body. He smiles reassuringly. Of course, you arent a husk. Not even dead. His smile is overly bright as he turns away. Dawn picks up a beautifully gilded bottle and rubs its contents into her palm. Not looking at Jenny, save to see what her hands are doing, Dawn gently, almost lovingly, rubs the oil into Jennys skin. This is just the training shes been given, Jenny thinks. If she werent under close supervision, Dawn wouldnt hesitate to try to get me helpless and hurt me. But the gentle massage continues and as the oil is rubbed deeply into her skin, Jenny begins to feel a warm tingling of her nerves. Methodically Dawn rubs her arms, torso, and is beginning to go to work on her legs when Jenny notices two things. One, not only is her skin feeling more and more numb to the chill and subtle breeze in the chamber, but almost as if the oil has reached her muscle, she seems powerless to move her fingers and even lifting her arms is a battle of her will against her body. And second, Dawns fingers have slowly gone from their gentle nimbleness to a clumsy slapping and rubbing. Its the oil, Jenny thinks, fear rising side by side with a surprisingly strong wave of desire. Its a special oil that numbs both skin and muscle much the way a muscle relaxant would but what if she fought? What if, at the last moment, she was worried she was making the wrong decision, that the supreme sacrifice was too much, even though it both scared the shit out of her and turned her on more than anything? Jenny spooned another strawberry covered with cream into her mouth, looking out at the tree-speckled valley that was Torans back forty. The spring breeze was hardening her nipples even through the thin fabric of her day-dress. She wasnt wearing any sort of bra or panties, as was her custom, and it was only the intensity of the discussion out here on his veranda that kept Toran from doing something about those unattended nips. There are muscle relaxants, of course. You said youve read every one of my stories on the net and you dont know that? She pushed her glasses up higher on her nose and glared at him. Dear, Im just a lowly engineer I dont know squat about whether what youve written in your stories is real or not. I didnt believe for a second that you could have epoxy poured into your throat and survive that. She waved her spoon at him. Shall we break your wrist and see if you dont cry for a shot to deaden the pain and feeling in your arm? Of course, if you wanted to make a girl just a flesh and blood product all it would take is a- muscle relaxant to help you through the rest of it, love. Toran nips at her ear while Dawn steps away, hands useless and numb from the oil with which shes covered Jennys body. Teri moves swiftly to pour a bluish liquid over Dawns hands, a neutralizer, Jenny thinks. Jenny cant move a muscle. Dimly, she can tell that her skin is still sending back information to her brain, but that info is nothing but warm, fuzzy nothing. It is as if her body ends at the collar around her neck. Toran looks deeply into her eyes. The fucking sadist. Do you want to continue? Its all moving so fast. The reality of it again hits her like a run-away train. This is really going to happen, shes really going to be entombed, buried alive. She opens her mouth to nervously ask him something, anything to reassure her that he loves her, that she can trust him, that he wont really give her her wish to make the supreme sacrifice. And as she makes the first sound, her larynx vibrating, the collar comes to life and the only noise that makes it to her lips is a soft moan. Torans smile brightens. Ahh. I didnt know for sure that the collar was going to work. Its keyed to your particular vocal wave pattern and we couldnt do a test without using you. And that, of course, would spoil the surprise. He reaches down and pinches one of her nipples hard enough to send a jolt of pain through the deadened blanket that is her body. She tries to shout at him to stop and is again cut short by the weak little noise that comes out of her throat. Hes grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Very nice. He leans in and kisses an earlobe. Are you feeling like a product yet, Jenny? he whispers. A product about to make the supreme sacrifice? He bites her earlobe softly and she doesnt even try to object with her voice. She just closes her eyes and feels a wave of intense arousal surge through her fueled by the copper electricity of real fear. He pulls back and kisses the bridge of her nose. One moan for yes, two for no. Jenny. Do you want to continue? Eyes still closed, and without hesitation, feeling the wave of arousal smash into her, fear riding the crest like a surfer, she moans once. And is surprised by herself to the core. She should be saying NO! or moaning the equivalent. Hes taken away her freedom with the oils, hes taken away her voice with the collar. What else will be taken away, she cant guess. Unable to move a muscle, unable to scream or beg or get off this run-away train. But she can. And hes seen to that. His continued question, Do you want to continue? gives her the power to stop all of this. Yes, this is her fantasy the big daddy of them all. Yes, he loves her and even though hes surprising her with making her as helpless as possible even before shes bound tight and sealed in her sarcophagus, hes doing everything shes told him about her fantasy like making a complex meal from a recipe, everything about the tomb, the oils, linens, all are hers. And yet And yet, this is the way it will go, she realizes. And he can ask her the question until he is blue in the face because every single time hes going to ask it, shes afraid deep down afraid - theres only one answer she will give him. Shes going to say yes with her lips before, now with her moans. She will never disappoint him. She will never let him down. Even if it means she will willingly allow herself to be wrapped and buried alive. Dawn kneels before her and roughly pulls Jennys pussy lips apart. She glares up at Jenny as she rams a big vibrator between her legs. Toran seems not to notice the look in Dawns eyes. This will keep you company, love. Ive made sure that the impulses are random and the batteries will last a considerable length of time. I didnt think you would object. Dimly, Jenny feels Dawn doing more down there than position the vibrator she recognizes the feeling of a catheter being inserted immediately. The first layer of Egyptian linen is wound around her and as the level of the wrapping, starting at her ankles, which have been subtly padded in between to separate her legs and make the wrapping even more immobilizing - as shes being wound and bound, shes afraid shes slipping into this too easily. She tries to say no twice and at the sound of her two weak moans, both Dawn and Teri stop. Toran hops up from his computer, worry plastered on his face. Are you ok, Jenny? Whats wrong? Hes fumbling with the controls to the collar, to give her her mouth back when she nods her head and moans twice another no. He tries to read her face and if he can read her mind now it is a simple strong thought pulsing through her. Kiss me, just kiss me. Dont stay over there while Im getting ready to go. Just kiss me. And he does. Slow and softly. And his lips continue to suckle and nip and bite and caress hers as Dawn and Teri resume her wrapping. Its Dawns irritated snort from behind that stops the kiss. Jennys body is now completely swaddled in linen. Teri wheels over a large vat that has been hanging over an open fire, the black contents not bubbling but warm. This is a sealing compound, love. Like tar, but not as caustic to the skin. This will seal the second layer of linens to the first. He steps away and brings out a small spray bottle. Open your mouth, love. Jenny tries to get the right questioning look in her eyes please tell me what youre doing now!!! But Toran just smiles at her and waits. So she reluctantly opens her mouth and receives a few quirts of the liquid deep in her throat. Instantly, her mouth is filled with a foul taste and she realizes that her tongue is going numb. This is a local anesthesia. Toran steps aside as Dawn wheels a second table over. Jennys eyes widen at the tubes and machine she sees sitting on it. Tongue numb, body both numbed and wrapped, voice cut off by a sound deadening collar, Jenny closes her eyes and wills the rising fear to let the intensifying arousal win out and take control of her body. Ask me now, she thinks, heart pounding in her chest. Please ask me now and I WILL say no Ill moan it as loud as I can. I see you recognize this. Its Torans voice in her ear, soft and reassuring. Of course she does. Only the last time shes seen one like this is weeks ago in the intensive care unit, keeping an old man alive by doing his breathing. Its a fucking ventilator. And then he does ask. Do you want to continue? Softly, like a snakes tongue flickering out and caressing the air, his voice comes to her. And she has no alternative but to moan her yes. With her throat numbed she barely feels the intubating tube sliding down her trachea to the openings of her lungs. The initial wave of panic at being unable to breath is offset as the machine hums to life and works her lungs for her. She doesnt even open her eyes one last time to see his face as he fits her ears with receiving earplugs or as the first layer of linen is completed, covering her head in a soft layer. Shes betrayed herself again. Theres no way to stop it now, in spite of the fact that she has the power to do so. She wants this as bad as ever and shes scared to death shes going to get it. With her fingers numbed, Toran selects the camera feed to her lenses and suddenly, even with eyes closed and head wrapped, shes seeing the sealing compound from the vat rubbed onto her white wrapped body. And this is when she looses it, the feeling of being Jenny, of being the girl whos most extreme and darkest fantasy is coming to life. Now, even though every movement she sees through her modified ethereal vision is felt with her body, every touch, pull, every wrap of the second layer, every coating of the compound as her body is entombed in three, then four, then five and finally six layers of linen, bulging her once slim feminine form into the images shes seen on the net and fantasized over in the wee hours of the night even though shes both there and not there, shes not Jenny anymore. Shes just a girl whos caught up in something bigger, something darker than her. Bigger than them all. She is making the supreme sacrifice. Torans voice, tiny in her ears, comes to her and even though he describes the gentle way they lift her into her sarcophagus, and the care that is made that shes as comfortable as she can be, now locked in her death mask, and even his soothing tones as he describes the movement of the big hoist as it lowers the heavy lid into place, as he takes care to program the sealing mechanism so that no one, not even Dawn can free her now only him, Jenny watches the live feed from outside as if its a movie, a great movie, a movie that has somehow broken the boundaries of reality and forced its viewer to feel everything. The panic hasnt hit her yet. She can still stop this. Any time she wants to, she can just moan twice and the collar pick-up will transmit her moans to Toran and hell stop this at once and shell be released and theyll all have a big chuckle and maybe, just maybe, shell get the nerve up to do this again, sometime. But she doesnt moan. In fact, she doesnt make a sound. And, as her skin and muscles finally begin to get feeling back, as her body forgets that it is being kept alive by a ventilation system and tube down her throat, and has her fingers lightly tap the metal pad in her palm, the barely imperceptible movement through all the linen and sealing compound switching cameras to give her every view of her burial, Jenny tells herself that this is what she wants. Enjoy it. Savor it. Its at this moment, as she focuses on the feed from the tiny camera inside with her the one that shows her mummified body rigidly trapped in her sarcophagus, a bound girl for which there is now no escape at this moment the vibrator comes to life with the first of its damnable bursts of power. She feels the first uncontrollable ripple of giddy warmth race through her body and the feeling builds and the fear that is racing right along with the warmth only adds fuel to the fire. Forever she could be here forever. Fucking forever. Right when she thinks shes going to crest the mountain and fall into the valley of orgasm, the vibrator cuts off and shes left, wrapped so tightly she cant move anything but her finger tips and even then its barely perceptible movement. She cant breath on her own, shes locked away, a mummy for real The orgasm, frustratingly held off, lingers for a few seconds, waiting to explode inside her. Hurriedly she taps camera pad to the burial chamber, hoping beyond hope that anything will trigger the wonderful explosion inside her. She sees the sarcophagus sitting on the floor of the chamber, while Toran punches the controls on his computer, Dawn and Teri standing by. The massive hoist is attached to the entire sarcophagus now and with barely a tug, it lifts the heavy wooden tomb a few feet. The floor underneath the sarcophagus trembles then and slides away to reveal a huge and gaping black hole. Inside the sarcophagus, sealed in by elaborate locking mechanisms that now not even the hoist could rip the top off, Jenny doesnt feel any movement as shes lowered into the black darkness. Hes going to bury her! Fear fills her now and panic right behind it. Normally, getting wrapped so tight she cant move puts her to sleep. Now, with panic right on her heels she strains every muscle, wildly thinking that there is still a way to break free. And thats when the vibrator comes to life a second time, reminding her body that not only is she close to total panic, theres an orgasm lurking within too. The ventilator, programmed somehow with the vibrator, picks up its pace and now even her lungs betray her as shes forced to take in short explosive breaths to keep pace with her racing heart. She doesnt feel the sarcophagus come to rest at the bottom of the pit and barely sees Dawn swing a long metal chute from the side of the burial chamber. Shes so fucking close to coming now that even the panic is adding gas to the fire and shes going to explode inside her immovable prison. Shes at the mercy of her body and her body is controlled by the vibrator and the ventilator and the bindings and the wooden tomb and the deep pit it sits in and now the steady stream of cement she sees cascading down the chute into the pit over her and just as she realizes that cement really does mean a long time, possibly the rest of her life, possibly forever, this is it, the supreme sacrifice, this is real and why is she going to orgasm when shes suddenly terrified that shes going to be sealed in for real The vibrator cuts off and she moans into her bindings. Are you ok, Jenny? Its Torans voice in her ears. She sees him standing next to his console, staring at a monitor showing her body onscreen. In front of him, Dawn works the chute to distribute the cement evenly as it slowly fills the black hole like a gray lake rising. The cement is one of my surprises, love. I mean, even though Im theoretically able to blow the bolts of the sarcophagus open, what is to keep me from doing it? Dawn thought it up. Not even I can break through cement, at least not quickly. So while no one else on earth can work the bolts without breaking them, besides me, I cant get to you now. Panic and terror rises up finally taking control of her body. She tries to move something, anything. Nothing budges shes caught like a fly in amber. In fact, its like she doesnt even have a body anymore, just random nerve endings that relay back to her brain a tightly confining, inescapable existence. Its only the slow, steady work of the ventilator that keeps her breathing normally. Do you want to continue? There is already hundreds of pounds of cement, a heavy wooden coffin, six layers of linen and sealing compound wrapped around her. Shes sealed in. Totally sealed in. But he can still stop it. She knows it. Hes surely thought of how to get her out, otherwise he wouldnt ask her, now, when shes making the last decision. She has to say no. She has to put a stop to this right fucking now because this is real, this is no turning back. She moans her answer. Yes. The vibrator kicks in just as the cement fills the pit completely, and its panic and fear and arousal and everything that shes ever dreamed about and fantasized about and when she sees Teri, naked, fighting furiously against the chains that bind her, being attached to the hoist and when she hears Torans voice in her ears telling her that every mummified queen has her pets sealed in with her forever and Teri surely qualified as her closest pet, and when she sees Teri, crying around her thick gag, being lowered into the still liquid cement until only bubbles, lazily popping at the surface shows shes ever existed the biggest hardest longest orgasm erupts from deep inside Jenny and as shes powerless to stop anything now, it rolls through her and sends her into satisfied blackness. Toran pulled the last of the rope tight around Dawns wrists, drawing a deep moan and a squeal from the mousy brown haired girl. Reaching for the gag his favorite, as it was big and always made Dawns cheeks puff out his other hand fumbled with the remote to the TV. The big screen was mounted just behind the headboard of his king-sized bed and was used only for this purpose. As he buckled the gag tightly into place and slapped Dawns belly to get her up on her knees, he adjusted the brightness to see the figure onscreen more clearly. He pulled Dawns hair roughly so she too could look at the screen and as he entered her from behind, both sets of eyes watched the immobile figure, wrapped with real Egyptian bindings and sealed in a real sarcophagus a sarcophagus buried under twenty feet of cement somewhere out there on the back forty. The mummy never moved, at least the tiny movements of the fingers of one hand were never seen through all the layers of wrapping. The mummy never made a noise, save for a moan every now and then, indicating that shed either had another orgasm, or had again succumbed to mind-numbing panic. The mummys life signs, displayed as a scroll across the bottom of the screen never wavered from perfectly healthy the ventilator saw to that. But the little control that Toran held in is hand as he pumped away on his bound Dawn sent torturous current through the tiny electrodes buried in the first layer of wrapping normally used to stimulate the mummys muscles to reduce the onset of muscle cell decay. The only sound coming from the TV was the sound of the tiny vibrator buried deep inside the mummy and the breathing that seemed to increase with every jolt of electrically delivered pain and the moans, dont forget the moans. Toran grinned. He had an idea that Jenny was watching him now too, compliments of the camera feed permanently mounted in the corner of the bedroom his last surprise. He thrust hard once more into Dawn then fell on top of her, a satisfied smile on his face. Hell, Jenny could possibly be waiting for the question. Do you want to continue? He chuckled and Dawn looked back at him from behind her gag. Somehow, he knew what Jennys answer would be.

SHADOW MISTS By Toran (1/27/02) PROLOG The hunger was on me, frightening in its intensity. Romantics would call it passion, realists lust. I called it The Beast. Trickling into me, almost unconscious in the beginning, growing until it throbbed at my temples and pulsed through my veins, it was a thirst without end, a need beyond fulfillment. My eyes grew focused, my head clear, my senses animal. I would neither eat nor drink nor sleep, all three out of the question until I was consumed and satiated by the blood and pain and hopelessness of the look in their eyes, the feel of their body, the frantic little movements, the helpless yielding of their flesh, the strange wrongness of it all, and above all, their desire, their animal desire... I closed my eyes...and felt His eyes open. APARTMENT St. Louis, June 3rd, 1984 Tracie Martin flipped open the single black travel bag the only piece of luggage that had made the flight from London with her. Her plans of buying as much as she could during her three week stay in the States included buying more luggage to carry back her loot. The exchange rate wasnt that much better and the Yanks were still in the punk phase that had grown old in Britain, but this was her first trip across the pond and she wanted to taste everything, smell everythingfeel everything. Even with the six hour jet-lag telling her that this was really 1AM, her first request to go down to the landing right away was going to be honored. She wasnt much of a sleeper anyway. She tossed a tight leather mini and matching red T-shirt on the bed. She was wearing the boots already her feet were in agony from wearing them all day, but they wouldnt fit in the bag. She was routing along the bottom of the bag for a belt to wear over the mini when her fingers found the first item shed dropped in, on a whim, when she was packing half a world away and what now seemed like so long ago. Crass popped his head in the doorway the apartment he shared with his lover was large enough that Tracie actually got a room of her own. His real name was Andrew, but it hadnt taken long for Tracies mum to coin her twin brothers nickname. Even though the Brass name that was the other pair to Crass had worn off Tracie while she was still a little girl, Crass grew into his name, almost with a vengeance. The purple mane he was currently sporting helped nicely. Bus leaves at 8, hon. His eyes caught the item Tracie held in her hands and a slow smile spread. Two peas in a pod, we are. Hold on, Ive got the perfect thing for that. Then he was gone. Butterflies alighting in her stomach, Tracie took a deep breath and slipped the thin black collar around her neck. Bought on a whim at one of the fading punker stores on Camden High Street in London, the collar had seemed to be just another punk statementbut this had nothing to do with punk. Not for Tracie. She closed her eyes as her skin registered the tight leather encircling her neck, the dark, musky smell filling her nose. She worked a finger in the collar and pulled, wondering what it would feel likeand what he would look like There was a metallic click, followed by a deeper ratcheting click and Tracies eyes flew open. Crass had slipped back in while she was lost in thought. And clipped a thin leather leash to her collar. And locked it on with a small padlock. The collar wasnt coming off now and neither was the leash. An evil grin on his face, Crass dangled the little key in front of her. Be a good girl, little sister, and maybe Ill unlock that later on. Her stomach flipped and the requisite reach for the key was half-hearted the collar was locked on and it was out of her hands when it was coming off. And she was leashedWithout warning, Crass twirled her around and delivered a smart crack to her butt. Bus leaves at 8, little slaveget dressed. Her cry was more moan than anything else. Long after Crass had left her to dress she was standing in the center of the room, eyes closed, a smile on her lips, one hand holding the end of the leash, the other fanning the warm tingle that had started in her ass and spread through her body. And they just made the bus. BAR We were in the third and last set before the swill-hole called Murphys on Lacledes Landing closed down and sent the pathetic little students back to their drunken weekend grope-a-dope parties. I played with an intensity the rest of the band hadnt seen in me before. Ever. I used Rodfords bass line from the Kinks Destroyer as a whip, lashing out and punctuating each transition hard enough that I almost blew my E string. The leather-sheathed slam dancers in front of the small, step-up stage fueled my anger and frustration and I slung it back without thought. By the time I ran U2s New Years Day through the dingy plaster and pipe roof, dragging the rest of the band along behind me, management was giving us the hard stare. There had already been two fights. The music and inherent rage of the punkers started those. I was leading this one. The keyboards and lead vocalist, a sultry auburn tressed slitch that was the Athena in the bands Athena and the Hubcaps, pulled my arm roughly, breaking a fingernail in the folds of my leather jacket. Shit, Val! You broke my nail! What the fuck are you doing? Stick with the playlist. The fact that we were coming down off a fast and furious run in the sack, much to the discord of the rest of the band, was apparently supposed to mean something. Welcome to the brave new world, baby. Val is gone. Dont screw with whats left. I regarded her for maybe a second, then ripped off the opening of Duran Durans Hungry like the Wolf. The band followed - they knew not to screw with me - and Athena shot me a glare that bounced off harmlessly. Steam, baby, steam. Save the whining for the song. I scanned the faces bobbing up and down in front of me, seeing everything through a thin red haze. I barely felt my fingers as they raced up the neck and pounded the fret board. It had been so long since the hunger came on me and I was just pissed that the end of this little soliloquy was over. We could have been a record band. Athena had a knock out voice and our drummer was a punk John Bonham. Six-stringer was coming along and would have tightened up in no time. But it was over. Fucking completely over. It was her friends purple hair that caused me to snap out of my funk. The flash of purple puff caught my eye and the little brunette standing next to her held it. She was staring at me, with the goggle eye that comes with too much beer and not enough control to fight the music as it wraps you up and holds you, caressing your heart in its hand and throbbing, throbbing... She wore a thin black collar with a leash locked onto it. Her purple headed friend held the end of the leash away from some dipshit in spiked hair and black mascara. As we finished Duran Duran, Athena crying out in one final pitiful wail, I gave the brunette a wink. She pulled the leash away from her friend. I started Riders on the Storm. The band followed suit, relieved that we were slowing down, unaware that I was cranking up. I let the bass line weave through the smokey air like a black snake, Athenas keys flowing like the ocean at dusk. As I sang Morrisons words into the tinny mike I looked into the brunettes eyes and spoke to her. The punkers, miffed at the slowdown, parted easily as she made her way through the crowd and towards the stage. Thena and I played the first instrumental, sharp 70s psychedelic rock stirring the 80s leather and rage crowd the wrong way. Our first two sets had all the punk anthems from The Clash and The Dead Kennedys and every other disenchanted band with a hook on anarchy. This last set was a mix of New Age and whatever I felt like pulling out of the past. And through the restless throng she came, absently holding the end of her leash between her breasts, her lips slightly parted, her huge gray-blue eyes swirling and locked on mine. I caressed her leather-skirted ass with the thumping bass lines sliding off my worn Stratocaster, and pulled her close with my voice. Around me, the band was starting to feel the fresh anger of the crowd, who had as much tolerance for The Doors as they did for rules and capitalism. I blocked it out. The increasing pressure in my head, the return of the unwanted hunger, the murderous desire that would not let me be, all that was lost as I danced with the brunette girl with the silly collar and leash, she swaying to the beat of music long dead and me holding her up with power newborn. Sully, our drummer, caught the first beer bottle in the side of the head. He managed another two stanzas before sliding to the floor and taking his crash and high-hat with him. The bouncers were quick and the bartender-manager was hollering for us to get the hell off the stage. And still she looked up at me from the foot of the stage. Smiling, I gently reached down and took the end of her leash. She stepped up onstage led by the soft tug I gave her collar. A bottle whizzed past then and I moved quickly, scooping her up with my pick hand and slinging my bass over my shoulder. My foot popped the jack cord as I hurried her past the mixer rack and off stage. As we plunged into the pungent darkness of the backroom hallway, her leash slapping back and forth between her breasts, I felt her slide an arm around my waist. God, this shit is too easy. BACKROOM Sully was propped against a full keg of Miller Lite, blood streaming down his face the way only a head cut can. Bubbers, the six-stringer was trying to get it to stop. I unslung the Strat from my back, dishing it into its hard case, the brunette - Tracie was her name, I knew that as I knew most things when the hunger was in me - stood in the backroom corner, docile. Athena made a grab for my arm. Want to break more than another fingernail, I snapped. She recoiled, but the fury was there in her eyes, unchecked. She knew what the brunette meant, or at least she thought she did. What the fuck did you think you were doing out there? You think were gonna get fucking paid for trashing their bar, you asshole? I turned my back on her. Such language for a woman... Im outta here, I said to Bubbers. His back stiffened but he didnt turn to face me. Youre not leaving us with the stage, Val. Sure am, Bubbs. I closed the hard case with a snap, glancing over my shoulder at Tracie, still staring at me, only me, from the corner, her leash laying placidly over one breast. Besides, house speakers, remember? Monitors too. Not much left after that. Now Bubbers stood, forgetting Sully who was stirring from the floor. You want your share, you get your ass out there with me and Thena and Sul before they trash our shit. Behind him, down the hall that led from the backroom to the bar, all hell was breaking loose. You dont help tear down and youre out of the band. Get a good look at my back, Bubbs, cause after it walks out that door you wont see it again. It was true. Some doors are one way. And Im taking Athena for a few minutes. I grabbed her hand, pulling her close. She resisted at first, then softened and melted into my kiss. She was mine then, for as long as I needed. I swatted her ass. Lets go, hon. As I took the Strats case in one hand and Tracies leash in the other - she sighed, her eyes sparkling - Bubbers made his big mistake. His roundhouse clipped the back of my head and I took a quick step forward, almost dropping the hard case. Straightening, I gave Athena Tracies leash and set the hard case down gently. Take her out back to the car. I winked at the dull glow and unconscious smile there and turned. Both Bubbers and Sully, still a little dazed, were standing. You dont want to screw with me, Bubbs, I said mildly. Not now. He did a half-turn, like he was going to forget it, all of it, then came at me. My heart shifted gears and started pumping copper adrenaline. I sidestepped him, kneeing him in the balls, hard. He went down with a howl. Id never liked Bubbs. He really believed the punk shit, more than the rest of us. At 24, he had some serious growing up to do. Sully, on the other hand was almost a friend, if a creature like me could have friends. I did Athena because she was there. Sully, I liked. I mean it, Sul, dont screw with me. And then he came at me, too. I let him come, not sure if I had it in me to hurt him. Lowered head, his shoulders hit me mid-chest and sent me back into the wall, ripping up a Spuds McKenzie poster tacked there. He was jackhammering his fists into my mid-section as I finally decided to let him go, the last good deed I would do for a while. I locked onto the back of his head and brought my knee up, sharply thumping his forehead. Hed have a hell of a headache to match the beer bottle scar at his temple. As he blanked for a moment I grabbed the Strat and slid out the back door and into the night. ALLEY It was the cool breeze of the back ally and then the approaching sirens that brought clarity to Tracie Martin. Somewhere during the parade of beer shed had inside the bar a feeling of hopelessness had enveloped her. I wasnt the jet-lag. It was the leash, she was sure of it. It meant something to her that she didnt quite understand yet. The freaks that wanted to hold it, the assholes that made all the silly, slutty comments - all that planted a feeling of unease in her. She was playing with something she couldnt quite see, but knew of its size from the shadow it seemed to cast. She was playing with fire. And the bass player, the one with the eyes that had looked into her soul and smirked - he knew. He knew what the shadow was. What the shadows power would do to her. You know hes a freak. It was the redhead from the band that spoke from beside her. Tracie looked at her clearly for the first time. Late twenties, maybe, pretty, cold. And she was the latest in a long string of many that night to be holding her stupid leash. Can I have that back, she said, not waiting for the redhead to let go of the leash. The redhead shrugged, letting the leash slide away. She eyed the closed door of the bar warily. Hell hurt you, you know. Youll think you want it, at the beginning, but by the time you know its time to stop itll be too late. She knew, Tracie thought. She knew a little about the shadow. Maybe it will never be time to stop. Maybe not for me. Saying that started up the little twitch in her stomach, the one that was powered by the butterflies, the one that had never completely gone away while she wore that damned collar. The redhead, Athena was her name, Tracie remembered, sighed. Maybe youre a freak too. A fucking English freak. The back door of the bar banged open and he strode out, carrying what looked to be a long suitcase in one hand. Thats his bass, she thought absently, not wanting to look into those eyes just yet. She would be lost again if she looked there too soon. Athena turned on him, fresh rage clipping her voice. So this is it, huh Val? Riding off into the sunset with a new queen, leaving the rest of us to clean up your shit and wonder when youre coming back? Tracie watched him breathlessly. It wasnt the way his tight leather pants that were scuffed at the edges hugged his tight butt, nor the way his dark black hair, jet black, tumbled down his shoulders, nor even the complete gracefulness he had even as he walked over and gently put the case down. It was Him. Somehow he was the shadow. Or at least he had power over the shadow. Still not wanting to look into his eyes, Tracie shifted nervously from foot to foot, very conscious of the weight of the leash hanging limply from her neck. Im not coming back, Thene. This is it. You dont need me anyway- The slap was sharp and hard enough that Tracie jerked her head up. He was rubbing his cheek against the crimson mark already starting to flower there. Fuck you, Val. Athena had her hand ready to give him a second one but he stopped her, not ungently. Slowly, he forced her hand to her side, then kissed her. Tracie saw that Athena was rigid, like an ice sculpture. When he pulled back and gazed into the redheads face, Tracie saw more pity than warmth in his eyes. She wondered if Athena could see that look, too. Apparently so. Youre an asshole, Val. She turned to Tracie, and for a moment Tracie felt Athenas red rage fix her like a spotlight. Hes partial to blow-jobs, sweetie. Long, slow blow-jobs. Then she was gone, back through the bars backdoor. He turned and looked at Tracie for the first time since the bar and the music and the haze that had hypnotized her and drawn her in. A slight smirk curled his lip, amusement glinting his dark brown eyes. So what do we do with you? The nervous warmth thrashed around in her belly in contrast to the sudden chill on her skin. This was it. This was a threshold, the first threshold. Her normal, strangely unsatisfied life lay on this side. Something dark, and warm, and wonderful lay on the other. In the land of shadows. She took a big breath, lowered her eyes, then stepped through the threshold. Do what you wish to do with me. Please. She felt his hand lightly raise her chin so he could look deep into her eyes, and she felt a heat in him, strong, unyielding, and so darkly powerful. She would do anything for him, now and forever, she was sure. Tell me this is what you want, he said, and she knew that it was what he wanted too, badly, so badly. She closed her eyes, feeling alive for the first time. She smelled the spring breeze, felt it gently lift her hair, heard it scatter the paper and crushed cans from an overturned garbage can further up the ally. I want this. For me. And for you. DRIVE I popped the trunk of the 78 Impala and tossed the Strat in. Somewhere, a part of my mind, the part that was always rooted in the real world, screamed to watch the fucking bass - that its a fucking Fender StratocasterBut that was a part that would soon be pushed back, way back, like a simpering child that doesnt know whether hes being punished or forgotten. He would soon be here. The beast. And it was her that was calling it with every word from her mouth, she was drawing him close. It was a dance, one that she didnt know the steps to. But she could feel the beat, move to it. And he would teach her the steps. Thenas handprint still warmed my cheek, but it was the fight that had gotten my blood going. I glanced at the girlTracieand fought the urge to rip off her punker clothes and toss her in the trunk. The thin line between me and the thing that coiled inside me, the thing that had trolled the depths of my soul and found fertile ground to nest, was never hard to cross over. I could will a wall between me and Him and that wall would stay up for a time. But the volcano blew with the regularity of the full moon I was powerless to stop Him when He took me. If I wanted to stop Him. Things would be happening soon enough. Things would take on a life of their own. I slammed the trunk shut and walked her to the passenger door, catching the smell of her hair, apple blossom, in my nose. I rubbed her bare arms against the cold, my eyes closed. She was soft and warm and thought she understood where we were going and all I wanted to do was crush her and make her mine, mold her into the creature that would follow me into the shadow mists where the beast lived She slowly pulled my hand away from her shoulder, face turned up to me and tentatively brought my hand to her lips. Her kiss was soft, her lips trembling, her eyes watching me, seemingly ready to freeze everything at the first sign that I didnt want her to continueand not finding anything from me to make her stop, she lowered her eyes and pressed her flushed cheeks against my open palm. I think Ive been waiting all my life for you. It was a whisper, barely heard above the rising pandemonium of what was going on in the bar. She looked up again at me and I saw tears in eyes that were so intense they almost looked right through me. Only I didnt know it. A tear streaked down her cheek, her voice trailing off. I kissed the tear away with lips that wanted to do more, go further. I pulled her into my arms, felt her heat as she pressed into me, her breathing was thunder in my ears. Her heartbeat against my chest became the only noise that mattered We had to go. I broke the moment and hurried her over to the passenger side. I wasnt afraid of the cops or what was left of Athena and the Hubcaps. I was afraid of what was to come between me and this girl. Afraid of more things at that moment than I could understand. But mostly afraid that one of us would balk at where we were going loose sight of the path I knew like the back of my hand and she had just glimpsed. She slid into the cracked leather interior of the Impala like a dancer performing a simple graceful move and I realized that I was lost. The beast was coming God how he wanted her nowBut I wanted her too. I had for years been the chosen tribesmen that offered up sacrifice to the Beast and run away before the Beast did his business. Fear, of course. Fear that I would like what I saw that He would melt into me and then He would never go away I slammed behind the wheel and fired up the Impala, not daring to look at her. I honestly didnt know what would happen if I caught her looking at me, with that stupid collar around her neck and the leash hanging limply from it and everything that that implied the door to the world that would crack open if I just took that leash not Him. Me. I gunned the engine and we shot into the night, putting wailing sirens and wee-hour bullshit behind us. I had never looked at the women I served up for Him this way. This one was different. So fucking different. She said she was waiting for me. I think I was waiting for her. But He would be here soon. And I would let Him come, stepping aside. Again. MISTS She was tired and getting confused. The world streamed past her in a blur the city around her became a series of late-night scenes, each illuminated by the surreal orange glow of the sodium street lights. Downtown St. Louis didnt sleep until the dawn was just starting to redden the sky. Midtown was another story. Stark poverty that was born and raised in the old turn-of-the-century buildings of Delmar Boulevard grew legs in the tattered remnants who poked through the garbage bins behind the McDonalds and White Castles. What was a trendy, hip part of town in the 70s had deteriorated into a desolate string of struggling businesses and punk rock stores. She felt so far from home, fighting the steady pull of jet-lag and the darkly exciting unease in her belly. The collar around her neck became a living thing every movement of the car seemed to draw the leather tighter and she found herself absently hooking a finger underneath it to draw it away from the sweaty skin of her neck. Even the rise and fall of her chest caused the leash to shift and pull on the collar. She was on the other side of the threshold now. Shed walked through without hesitation, drawn by something that had reared up inside her, something that had always been there, beneath the surface it was there when she bought the collar, it was there when she caught herself sitting at the table for her morning tea and paper with arms folded snugly behind her back, it was there in the pre-dawn hours when she awoke to find herself spread-eagled under the sheets on the bed, arms and legs straining for the corners, invisible ropes holding them there, while the mists of her dream still ran icy fingers down her breasts, past her belly, to the tingling button between her legs. She snuck a glance at the driver of the car very much the driver now in so many ways. She saw him in the soft green glow of the dashboard lights, the rhythmic dazzling glare from the street lights that exploded then faded to green darkness before exploding again casting a sharp brief shadow across his grim face. Strings of jet black hair obscured his forehead and eyes. Only the set of his jaw and the thin line of his lips lips that had moments before almost caused her to melt completely were in view. He worked the gear shifter with mean quick thrusts, his gaze never leaving the road. It struck her that he was like the Ancient Mariner, body hunched over the wheel, scanning the turbulent sea for the next wave that would crash and break his ship. He was gunning through the city now, the traffic lights sometimes blinking red, sometimes yellow. Either way, he sailed through the intersections without hesitation. In fact, she felt the car picking up speed as they sped ever westward towards the deep underbelly of the city. She closed her eyes, relaxing, hands pulling lightly on the leash. She had no idea where she would be, what would happen when she opened her eyes again, and that thought both thrilled and scared her... The soft light from the hallway casts a gentle shadow on her bedroom wall and shes a little girl again, in her mums house in St. Johns Wood, and shes falling asleep and wondering where she will wake up. And as the shadow-muted flowered wallpaper by her bed gives way to dreams, she realizes that she cant stay here, not in the bed, because they are coming and she knews where they are and even though they dont scare her she still wants to hide from them. So she slides out of bed, not noticing that someone still lies under the covers, sound asleep and that it is her, not noticing that now her room is different, devoid of any comfort or warmth or any of her little girl perceptions it is just a room with a door and that door is the way out and beyond that is the hallway, dark and without end. But if she floats long enough, pushes on, she is putting distance between herself and them, the little shadows who stand around her bed and watch her sleep - She moans, a soft sound that is absorbed immediately by the cars growl. Her head rolls to one shoulder, the shoulder propped against the window, and through half-lidded eyes she sees the figures pushing shopping carts along the sidewalk in the orange glow of the streetlights and those figures are short, with spindly arms and long heads and big black eyes that turn to her and regard her neither coldly nor warmly and she moans again- The dark house seems full and she sits at the top of the stairs, eyes scanning the darkness below, knowing that they are down there, knowing that they can see her now, so exposed but unable to move. Her back to the hallway, she knows that even now, they stand around her bed, watching her sleeping form, while others stare at her from the darkness below part of her will sleep fitfully, logging what her other body will experience as just more nightmares- Her head rolls to the other shoulder and she sees Him, hunched behind the wheel, only now he looks less human and more like- She stands suddenly at the top of the stairs as she sees the eyes staring up at her from the darkness below. Its Him, the Shadowman, and Hes calling for her, beckoning her down and Hes more than all the little shadows combined Hes both above and beyond them. Hes her safe haven but the price for His protection is her body, her soul, and maybe more. Folding her hands behind her, she takes the first step down- And the car is gone and He is carrying her, His arms wrapped tightly around her, not hurting, not yet, but there is no escape now. The door has slammed shut and the threshold is long gone. Shes over here now, over here again and He looks down at her, His eyes both warm and cold, soft and hard, changing on the whims of the shadowmists- He reaches out as she steps off the last stair and into the darkness of His world. He towers over her, she is only a little girl and He is larger than life. His touch is gentle but firm as He deftly leads her through the darkness and- She looks up into the sky and many many shapes are there, not exactly stars. They glow, sometimes looking like boxes, sometimes filled triangles and they are everywhere. These start a thread of fear in her belly that curls tightly into a ball and threatens to rise to her mouth in a scream so she looks to Him, looks for anything that can comfort her and knows that she will give Him everything, everything He wants because she has to, she wants to, and He needs to- Talks to her. He talks to her, the little girl that holds something inside her that has yet many years before it is born into this world. In words she will forget as soon as they blanket her mind, He speaks to her and she loses her fear of Him, of them, and the warmth she feels is almost a love- The warm night air rushes past her and she knows that St. Louis is so very far away and that only He matters, His touch, His desire. She closes her eyes and snuggles deeper into His arms until only the sound of His heartbeat, strong and neverending, fills her world. There is a little creature inside of you, He says, and though shes just a little girl, she listens closely and understands. Like the shadows? Her eyes are big brown orbs in the darkness and there is a small smile on her mouth. He grins. Exactly. But the shadow inside you is stronger than they are and they know it. Thats why they watch you. Why you interest them. It will grow as you grow and it will soon lurk behind your thoughts, always just out of the light. But you will feel it. He looks down at her, His smile gone and His face solemn. You must never fear the shadow. Because then you fear yourself. The world stops moving and she realizes that she is standing still, shadows dancing about her, in the belly of the Beast. She can see him only barely in the gloom, as he stands apart from her. Not towering now shes not a little girl anymore. Her hands still clutch at the leash but her arms lay against bare flesh. She stands before him naked and leashed and lost in a world that she can only barely see and she knows that she stands at another threshold, the second. He turns to her, a gentle smile out of place with the hard animal look in his black eyes, and tosses a silver orb at her feet. It bounces lazily and as it brushes her naked ankle, it explodes in black dust. She steps back, startled and a tiny scream is lost in her throat as each of the tiny grains of black dust begins to move on long spindly legs. Spiders, baby spiders exploding from their mother and she closes her eyes, fighting the panic. She steps back, away from the dark flower of thousands of tiny spiders that is growing, and her foot steps on something clammy and she goes down. Her butt cushions the fall but she twists, trying not to land in the mass of spiders so she ends up on her side, looking into the eyes of the clammy thing that was under her feet. This time the scream clears her throat as the thin black snake regards her for a moment, then dives for her. Her arm flies up but thats what it wants and it wraps its leathery body about her wrist, coiling tight, black head sliding up her forearm to her elbow. Screaming now, panic taking her, she sees more snakes, a nest of them, slithering across the floor and finding her ankles, her waist, both wrists now. She fights but there are too many of them and they are strong. Two encircle her wrists then send their long tails out at each other, locking and wrapping together, drawing her wrists together behind her. She looses her balance and slips down into the mass of swarming black bodies and they cover her, drawing up around her tightly. Her feet are wrestled together and wrapped, coils of black holding her thighs together tightly. Her elbows are methodically brought together behind her and she feels as if a solid mass of leathery skin holds her arms from her shoulders to her fingers. Two snakes knot themselves in her hair and within seconds she is laying on her belly, arms behind her, feet pulled up and held to her hair by a rope of intertwined snakes, her head forced back painfully. Her screams are now panicked grunts as her body is lost to her and when a thick snake wraps itself around her chin, forcing its way into her mouth as it wraps itself around her head, even her grunts are silenced. She lays still, wrapped so tight only her chest moves as she struggles to draw breath. She feels them tensing and relaxing, the hundreds of snakes wrapped about her a living cocoon. They suddenly shift and shes rolled onto her side, head pulled back as they strain to bring her toes as tightly up to her neck behind her. Shes forgotten about the spiders. Now unable to do anything but watch the flower of black grow towards, her she closes her eyes as the first of the little legs crawls over her body. They are everywhere and though she fights the snakes that hold her, the thousands of little pricks on her skin nearly drive her insane. Thousands crawl over her thighs and belly, scamper across her hips, find the hollow of her ears. When she feels a mass of them clustered on each breast, feels the probing of their needle legs, she looses it and shrieks wildly around the leathery snake wrapped between her lips. Then He is there, unseen save for the outline of his body in the shadowy mists. Shhhhh. The shadow has many bodies like a house with many rooms. Fear it and you will loose your mind. The spindly legs around her breasts work her nipples into hard buttons and the stimulation turns her panic into something else, a flash fire that has fed off the fuel of her fear and caught something smoldering deep inside her. Her hips strain against the snakes that hold her thighs fast and her whole world is focused on her nipples as the tiny needles dance about her flesh. Embrace it and you are lost forever in its arms. The needles at her nipples intensify, as if they are working into a frenzy, their bites becoming more pronounced. And she feels something working between her legs, a snake that has slid up from the coils around her knees. You and the Beast inside you are one. It is just a shadow to you her nipples are being pulled out now, the little legs acting like little hooks, pulling her flesh taut, and the snake has found the musky warmth of her pussy lips and slides inside her a shadow that can rise up and blot out the world with its power. her nipples erupt in pain as two legs, larger than the others, suddenly pierce her flesh and drive straight through. The snake between her legs slides its head out of the mouth of her pussy lips, the rest of its body still thickly imbedded inside her, and finds the fold of her clit, biting hard with little fangs. She squirms, unable to move, screams, unable to hear her own voice, and shudders as the first real orgasm of her life explodes from the pain in her nipples and clit and the helpless embrace of the shadow. She closes her eyes, her body riding the wave of electricity that runs through her. Her nipples, now pierced, are worked and twisted and the snake that holds her clit between its sharp fangs wriggles its head from side to side in rhythm to the steady sliding of its body in and out of her. Shes aware of a soft moan and somewhere, in the part of her mind that isnt on overload, she realizes that the noise is coming from her. The snakes holding her body move now, allowing her to slide her hips with the snake that fucks her and sometimes, as they sense another orgasm building, they all become rigid forcing her to complete immobility, forcing her to just feel what is being done to her, forcing her to listen to the song of her skin and her nerves as it sings in beautiful agony. The orgasms stretch into a time when she no longer is aware of anything but the warm glow from deep inside her. The glow that comes from her Beast. SHADOWS She looked peaceful like an angel taking a nap. If it werent for the small line of drool that trickled past the thick strip of leather filling her mouth and puffing her cheeks she would have looked perfect for a mattress commercial. I lay next to her in the early dawn hours watching her breathe, the soft rise and fall of her breasts breasts that were nicely framed by two bands of rope. My hand followed the line from her shoulders, running across her soft flesh, past the ropes holding her elbows and wrists to the small of her back, over the waist rope that anchored the rope running through her puss, down her thighs where she was tied at both knees and calves and finally ankles. She was the picture of captured beauty. And in the hour before the sun would rise and there was that morning twilight, I lay with a girl that was totally at my mercy, and by extension, at the mercy of the Beast. And happy. Shit. What a fucked up thing. I gave her new nipple rings a tweak, the skin a little puffed and red, now invaded by the most delicate of silver. She stirred and her eyes, eyes that changed color from blue to green as arousal took her, opened and slowly focused on me. Athena hadnt ever wanted to be tied, although I tied her anyways whenever I felt like it. This girl, Tracie, was made to be tied. She squirmed a little, eyes never leaving mine, making sure she still was helpless, then glanced down at the little rings in her nipples. I smiled, and my hand found the new ring that was in her clit hood. She moaned as I gave it a little tug and our eyes met. She blinked and when they opened again they were turning green a dark green. I knew that if I asked her at that moment if she wanted to be tied and fucked every waking minute for the rest of her life she would have nodded her head, yes. The thought got me going. The beast inside stirred, but hed gotten his fill last night. This was for me. I leaned over her and kissed her cheek. She turned her head and parted her lips as wide as the leather strap would allow. She wanted that out of her mouth and she wanted a real kiss. I chuckled and shook my head. Some girls look too good with a gag in their mouth. I slid down and undid the ropes holding her legs together. She got the idea and began a little hum, almost like a purr, deep in her throat, her legs parting. God this shit was so easy. I wanted her on top of me I wanted to knead and caress her flesh like my E string. I wanted to feel her vibration under my fingers. Rolling over onto my back, I helped her climb over my torso. She was graceful with her arms lost behind her and I wondered absently if there was a way you could practice that. I held her close to me, her head resting on my chest, her nipple rings and tied breasts pressed against me, knees straddling my waist. Slowly, I moved her hips down until I slid into her, parting the two strands of rope that pushed her pussy lips together. She moaned a little and snuggled against me as I started to fuck her slowly. I closed my eyes and soon there was nothing else in the world but this soft and helpless girl atop me, enveloping me, taking everything I did to her. I reached around the back of her neck and undid the buckle on the leather strap, freeing her lips. She was kissing me instantly, her soft mouth greedily sucking and covering mine. When she moaned deep in her throat, I felt it in mine. And as the rhythm picked up and our bodies slid against each other with more urgency, I pushed her up so that she sat on my dick and ground her puss into me. I pulled the sensitive rings in her nipples and she let out a low moan, her eyes closed, brown bangs plastered on her forehead, cheeks flushed. I pulled the silver and then slapped the underside of her breast, giving both breasts equal treatment. She ground into me, taking my dick deeper and deeper and then rose up on her knees, almost coming off me completely, then slammed back down again. I was turning the underside of her breasts a nice pink and she was on the brink of coming. I pulled both nipple rings long and hard, forcing her to tug on them harshly every time she rose up. She picked up her pace, fighting the agony in her breasts with every thrust, and finally she stiffened, her pelvis grinding into mine one last time. A high pitched squeal came from her and I held on as long as I could. Her pussy gave my dick one last urgent squeeze and we both exploded. She slammed back onto my chest, her head buried in my neck and as I unloaded everything I had into her it was her soft breath on my neck, a soft panting, that did it for me. I held her to me tightly never wanting to let her go and our breathing soon became one as I lay there, still inside her. I stroked her hair apple blossom - and rubbed her bound hands. Soon she had fallen asleep on top of me and though Id gotten soft, the tip of my dick was still enveloped in her warm flesh. All I saw was blackness. I loved her. And that was bad. The power that we both had would consume us both. The Beast had left His mark on her and she had accepted it. Never before had I given anyone to Him that I wanted for myself. He knew this He knew everything. He would use her, punish her, take her through one torture after another, each more sadistic than the last. And she would be drawn to Him. She would take whatever He gave her, endure whatever He did to her. She would fall in love with Him. And think He was me. He was the embodiment of all that was dark, all that was animal, primal. He was raw power. If you stood outside in a storm He would be the arc of electricity that knocked you on your ass. If you stood on the beach as high tide was coming in, He was the wave that hit you and pulled you under. He was the fire that seared your soul, the blackness that blinded you. He was every fear you ever had and He was the one who forced you to face them. He tied you and teased you, using your body as trussed flesh, raking your nerve endings until they screamed. He crawled into your head in the wee hours of the morning and whispered what He would do to you in your ear and you said yes, hurt me, make me scream, make me cry, destroy me, use me, make me Yours, bind me to You forever. She had to know this. She was the same creature as I was. She, too had a Beast, only her Beast drove her to submission. Her Beast used her power as a gift, a precious commodity that was both treasured and made to give away. Her body, her mind, her soul all were the power that She gave to Him. It was a gift that He would accept always. Even if it meant that we would consume each other. I rolled her onto her side and she stirred but didnt wake. I got up and found the pile of her clothes, the emptiness of my apartment a stark sterile world in the first light of this new day. I found what I was looking for and settled in next to her. Love, I whispered in her ear. She moaned and opened her eyes. She smiled as she focused, her blue eyes instantly clear and sparkling. I helped her sit up and we sat facing each other, cross-legged. She leaned over and kissed me. More of that gracefulness. I returned her kiss and finally pushed her away, instantly missing her soft lips on mine. She saw what I had in my hands and her cheeks flushed a little. She was about to comment but I stopped her by putting a finger to her lips. Do you know what you are fucking with? She smiled nervously, eyes darting down to what I held in my hands then back up. Her breath was already picking up and the flush in her cheeks grew. Yes. Direct look, into my eyes, not looking away. Not even for a second. I held the collar up to her, the leash still dangling from the opened lock. It had taken only a few seconds to pick the novelty lock, but once on again I doubted she would be able to get it opened. Nor want to. Do you know what this means? Do you know what it means if I lock this on you? Her eyes were suddenly glistening and I was sure that a tear would follow. But she shook her head, yes. I leaned in and kissed her trembling lips. When I pulled back her cheeks were streaked. You have to say it, Tracie. She took a deep breath, the little circlets of silver in her nipples bobbing pertly. When she spoke, it was in a soft, wavering voice. When you place that collar on me, I will be bound to you. Forever. Unless I release you, I whispered. Our eyes were locked and the only sound in the bare room was our breathing. Outside the gray world was turning a rosy pink and the morning birds the cardinals were making their unique twirling calls. Outside was another world, a different world, where people lived normal, if not mundane lives. Outside was the Athena and the Hubcaps world, where trashing a bar was good word-of-mouth, and that break-out record deal was just a few gigs away. Outside was debt and poverty and excessive waste and headlines and issues and everything else that mattered to the gray people the people who lived without a Beast, without that thing that stirred you, that thing that saw only passion and pain and ecstasy the Beast that gave you power. Inside these bare walls were shadows. The seconds slowed to a stop and in the end there was only the two of us - one, a young girl from half a world away, tied and helpless in body, powerful in spirit. The other, a muse who used song as bait for a trap he couldnt control. And now the wires had crossed and fused together. Yes. I understand, she said, a fresh tear staining her cheek. I leaned in and slid the collar around her neck, kissing her forehead. I slid the lock home through the latch and found her eyes. Her lips trembled. Then she looked down, bowing her head. I clicked the lock shut. * * * THE END * * * Shadow Mists - 14 -

Susans Dilemma By Videll Dais Hello. My name is Susan and Im 13-years old. Im only short, have strawberry- blonde hair, a slight figure ( my boobs are only just beginning to show ) and, though Im not ugly, Im not what you would call beautiful either; well, I dont think I am anyway. Something happened to me a few weeks ago and I cant keep it to myself any longer, so I thought Id write it all down here, an anonymous voice amidst a forest of anonymous voices. To me, it seems easier this way. At least I can get it off my chest without having to face anyone and have them ask me lots of difficult, prying questions. Im a private person and really wouldnt be able to cope with anything like that. You know how it is. Like loads of girls my age, Im quite shy, dont have any close friends to talk to, and certainly couldnt speak to my parents about what happened. Its just too embarrassing. If you happen to read this, perhaps youd be kind enough to give me some advice on what I should do. Before I actually tell you what happened, Ill fill you in on a little background first, so youre more familiar with my circumstances. For quite some time now, Ive fancied this boy called David who lives just a few doors down from me on the opposite side of the road. Actually, I more than fancy him. I think Im in love with him. Every time I see him I seem to go all silly and feel really awkward and stupid. I blush a lot, get butterflies in my tummy and my legs go all shaky. I would love to talk to him properly, but I get all tongue-tied and never know what to say. Apart from what Ive overheard other kids talking about at school or read in girls magazines, I have no experience as far as sex goes. I must admit, though, I have been thinking about it a lot lately. In bed, I dream about David almost every night and, just lately, I have been ( God, I can feel myself blushing now) getting this funny sort of tingly feeling between my legs; you know, in my private parts. Im not sure I should have put that last bit down, but I suppose if youre going to help me in any way, then I have to be really honest and tell you aboutwell, everything. David Webb is a year older than me. We go to the same school. He is very good looking and he plays the guitar. He is so-o lucky because he has a sweet little sister called Karen who, I think, is two or three. I dont have any brothers or sisters. David is very popular at school, has loads of girlfriends and, though he smiles and occasionally says hi, he hardly ever notices me, even though he sees me out and about quite often cause we live so close. It was through Davids little sister that I got to know his Mum. When it was sunny, Id see her out walking, pushing the buggy. One day, when she was in the corner shop, I was making a fuss of baby Karen and I got talking with Mrs. Webb. She was a very nice lady. Very tall and slim with lovely, long, auburn hair. She said to call her Rose. I told her my name and where I lived and asked her if she would mind me taking the baby out for a walk sometime. She said for me to go around to their house and get to know her a bit more first. I was so excited. I said ok, asked when should I go round, and she told me a day and a time a week away. You cant imagine how I felt. God, I was thrilled and couldnt wait. I would actually be in HIS house: Davids house. In bed that night, I couldnt get to sleep. I felt all hot and flushed and thought I was going down with the flu or a fever of some kind. I couldnt get comfortable and kept fidgeting. My little boobs were extra tender and sensitive and the tingly feeling between my legs seemed stronger than ever. It was very strange and I wondered what on earth could be wrong with me. For the first time, I nervously put my hand inside my knickers, opened my legs, and touched myself there, low down. I was puzzled because I was all wet and it wasnt pee. When my fingers touched a certain spot, the sensation was so intense, I flinched. It felt so-o wicked, so-o nice, like electricity shooting all over my body. I touched myself there again and the same thing happened. I got even more wet and found that, if I gently rubbed that certain spot with my fingertip (whilst thinking of kissing David) the tingly feeling became stronger and just got better and better until it took my breath away. God! At one point, I thought I was dying of pleasure. I dont know how long I did it for. It seemed like ages. I liked the sensations it gave me so much I didnt want to stop. Eventually, completely exhausted, I did manage to fall asleep. When the day came (Wednesday) for me to pay my first visit to Davids house, I was disappointed because the weather was awful. It was chilly and had rained for most of the morning and all through lunchtime. However, I was still too excited to let a little thing like dismal weather put me off. After school, I quickly changed out of my uniform, put on a tank top and some jeans and ran across the street. Mrs. Webb Rose let me into their lovely home and, again, was very nice to me. She called me a sweet kid and made me a glass of fresh orange juice and I played with little Karen for more than an hour. I made her giggle constantly and Rose said little Karen seemed to get along fine with me. Rose asked all about me and my family. I told her my Mum was a nurse at the Memorial Hospital and that my Dad was a long distance lorry driver who was almost never home. She asked me if I ever felt lonely. I had to admit that, quite often, I did. David came in once, smiled, said hi, and left again almost immediately. God, the moment was only brief, but I was over the moon. That smile; that voice. I couldnt get him out of my mind and could hardly concentrate on my activities with Karen at all after that. When it was time for me to go home, Rose said I was more than welcome to come over again next week if I wanted. If I wanted! God! Given half a chance, I would have moved in with them then and there. The next time I went over, I met Davids Dad. I could hear David upstairs somewhere playing his guitar. Its an electric one and sounded quite good. Even though Davids Dad was quite old, he was very good-looking and seemed like a very nice man. He said to call him Spider. He said everybody called him that. Apparently, it was a nickname from his army days. He joked a lot and made Rose and me laugh. My sides actually ached. I saw David again, too. For a bit longer this time. And he actually remembered to use my name. Oh my God! I went as red as a beetroot. Im sure his Mum and Dad noticed. My heart wouldnt stop pounding in my chest. I was so-o thrilled and dont believe Ive ever enjoyed myself so much in my life. On the way home, I felt like I was walking in the clouds. Again, that night, tucked up in my bed, I had to touch myself down there, inside my knickers. I did it for ages and thought of David the whole time. It was lovely. The following week, on the Tuesday, I went to visit my Gran. I go to see her at least twice a month and stay a couple of hours or so. Shes a dear old lady and shes always so pleased to see me. I know she gets lonely since Grandpa passed away, which will be two years this May. I usually get the 8-o-clock bus back but, somehow, I missed it. I waited till 8:15. By then, it was getting dark so, having had enough of hanging around, I decided to walk home. Its not too far, a couple of miles or so. My Mum was working a late shift so wouldnt know I was late. As for my Dad, well, I didnt know when hed be home so wasnt worried about him at all. I suppose Id reached about half-way to my house when it started to bucket down with rain again. I was only wearing a short skirt and thin top and I was soaked through in seconds. It was enough to make a saint swear. Theres a shortcut, an alley, that runs between the two main roads to my house. Normally, I would never consider walking down it at night, but with the amount of time it would save me getting home and in the dry, I decided Id risk taking it just this once. When I reached the alley, it looked so dark and menacing I lost my nerve. I just couldnt gather up enough courage to cut through it. By this time, I was cold, shivering and close to tears. The thought of having to walk all the way back around was too much to face. I didnt know what to do and stood under the comforting glow of a single streetlight trying to make up my stupid mind. Then I heard the voice. Susan? Susan, is that you? I turned around and there, like a shining knight in armour, was Mr. Webb. Spider. Davids Dad. Ooh, Mr. Webb! I wailed, tears flowing. Please help me. I need to get home, but Im too scared to walk through the alley. Would you take me through it? Plee-ase? You poor kid. Look at you. Youre wet through. Of course Ill take you. Come on. Get under my coat. He was wearing one of those long coats, the sort cowboys used to wear in the old days. He opened it, pulled me close, and draped the coat around my head and shoulders. I felt instantly warmer and so relieved. We turned down the alley and Mr. Webb, Spider, made a joke about me resembling a drowned rat. I tried to smile, but felt too miserable to really appreciate it. He asked where Id been and why I had neglected to wear a coat. I said it was warm and sunny when I left home then I told him about missing my usual bus and having to walk home. We hadnt gone far when the wind suddenly picked up and the rain got even heavier. My God! Mr. Webb exclaimed. Here, I think wed better take shelter for a minute or two till this eases off. The alley is bordered by garden walls on one side, and a long, high wall on the other fronted by a verge, hedges and fir trees. He led me through the hedges and we stood under a clump of thick firs next to the high wall. It was very dark. The wall and trees protected us from the wind and a lot of the rain. Youre shivering, Susan. Lets warm you up a bit. Mr. Webb, Spider, took his coat off, told me to put my arms around him, then he folded his coat around us and pressed me close to him. He felt so warm against me. I rested my cheek on his chest. My tank top is quite short leaving my middle bare and I could feel Spiders big hands on the bare skin of my back. It had been so long since my Dad or anyone for that matter had cuddled me this close. I felt really comforted, secure and safe. Spiders hands moved slowly and soothingly up and down my back and sides. I snuggled into him, pressing my front against him, whilst all around us the wind blew noisily whipping the rain-drenched branches above us. There, Spider said, quietly. Feel better now? Oh, yes. Much. I said, nodding my head against the soft, warm jumper he was wearing. Pity its so dark. Id like to see you more clearly. Youre such a pretty little thing. No, I am not, I replied, giggling a bit and feeling myself blush. Oh, but you are, Spider said. He moved his hands up my sides, right under my arms. His long thumbs moved quite close to the sides of my sensitive boobs and I felt a shiver go through me that had nothing to do with being cold. I think youre one of the prettiest girls in the street. I didnt know what to say, so I stayed quiet as his hands moved around to my back again. They went lower this time, past the bare strip of skin, and down onto my bum. He gently held me there and squeezed slightly. Youve got a lovely little bum, Spider said. It fits in my hands perfectly. Do you mind me touching you there. No. Its ok, I said. It felt nice in a stimulating kind of way and didnt seem wrong to me. I felt all trembly inside and my nipples got hard and sort of achy. Have you got a boyfriend, Susan? Spider said, close to my ear. His warm breath made me shiver again and he gently squeezed each globe of my bottom, pressing me against him. I could feel the heat from his hands right through my skirt. No, I said, my voice sort of weak and whispery. I felt all dreamy and was really enjoying the way he was cuddling me. Thats a shame. I wouldve thought all the boys would be queuing up to take you out. I know I would be if I was younger. Dont you like boys? Yes. I like them but but, well, they dont seem to like me, I could feel his fingers going right under my bottom, lifting me slightly, pressing my stomach against his. There was a large bulge digging into me. My cheeks were burning and I was suddenly glad it was so dark. I hate people seeing me blush. Dont like you? Mr. Webb, Spider, breathed into my ear. I find that hard to believe, Susan. I like you. I think youre very cute, very attractive, and I love the colour of your hair. Are you feeling warmer? Y-yes, thanks; a little bit. Do you want me to warm you up a bit more? Ye-es. Please. I nodded, pressing my face against his chest. Put your arms around my neck. He was so tall I had to stretch up quite a bit, but I did as he told me. I felt my skirt pulling up at the back. His hands went to my hips then up my sides and under my arms again. It tickled and I giggled. I felt really silly and so wanted to be grown up and sensible. His thumbs once again came very close to my boobs. They slowly brushed along the sides making my nipples tingle. Then, suddenly, both his hot palms slid around the front and up under my top and bra. They covered my bare boobs completely and he gently massaged them, pinching at my hard little nipples. I had to catch my breath and felt a bit embarrassed because I know my boobs are not very big. When I went to jerk my arms down he said to leave them around his neck, so I did. You have such lovely little titties, Susan. Really lovely. Does that feel nice? As he spoke, he gently plucked at each of my tender nipples sending shivery rivulets of pulsating sensation right down to my belly and privates. I buried my face in his chest, not knowing what to say. Keeping his left hand playing with my nipples, he slid his other hand slowly down my front, over my belly and lower. I felt it on my leg next, above my knee. I knew what he was going to do and, though slightly scared, felt absolutely powerless to stop him. My legs were shaking uncontrollably and my face felt as if I was burning up. Just relax little girl. Im not going to hurt you. Ill make you feel nice and warm. As he whispered in my ear, his hand blazed a tickly path up the inside of my bare thigh, under my skirt. Then he was touching the front of my knickers. He gently, and very slowly, rubbed me there, right on that special spot that feels so-o good. I thought I was going to faint. Ooh, I muttered, involuntarily, as I felt his finger trace lightly right along my cleft. The touch felt so acute it was as if my knickers werent even covering me. Spider chuckled. Have you got much hair down there? He whispered. God, what a question. Unable to speak, feeling his fingers lightly touching me, I shook my head. Dont be shy. Theres no need to worry. Answer me. Have you got much hair down there? N-no, I gulped. Oh, thats sweet. Thats what I like a bald, adolescent little quim. Let me feel you properly, sweetheart. With that, he reached up, rubbed my bare belly a bit, even rotating a fingertip in my belly button, before sliding his fingers down under the elastic waistband of my knickers. It tickled and I gasped as my tummy muscles twitched. He put his whole hand right down there. My body trembled all over. Oh, yes, he whispered. Thats a nice plump mound. So soft and smooth. Open your legs a little more, darling. Let me feel your pussy. Dont worry. I wont hurt you. I couldnt believe the words he was using. They made me feel so hot and bothered. I felt weak and completely helpless and so-o loved. He suddenly bent his head down and held one of my boobs up so my hard nipple was sticking out and he started to suck on it. My tummy did summersaults and my knees were like jelly. I did as he told me and opened my legs wider. He slid his whole hand, palm up, over my privates. Oh, yes, he whispered, his long fingers gently sliding back and forth along my privates. What a sweet little cunt. You are so wet. You like this dont you? My cheeks flamed with embarrassment at his frankly rude words. ItsIt feelsnice, I gasped, hardly able to breathe as his fingers went right under me to my bum and back again. I couldnt believe the words he was saying; so dirty and rude, disgusting andexciting at the same time. He seemed to know where that special place was and he gently rubbed it. I opened my legs a bit wider, closed my eyes and let the warm, tingly feelings wash over me. It was like when I touched myself in bed, but ten times better. I was embarrassed, but didnt think that it was wrong, that it was Davids Dad who was touching me, or that he was so old. I just liked what he was doing to me. It was so exciting. I felt so grown up, like a grown woman. A real man was holding me and playing with my privates and, it was true, I did like it. Oh, sweet Susan. Its not fair for me to have all the fun, Spider said, kissing along my neck. Give me your hand. There, feel what you do to me. Feel my hard cock little girl. He took my hand and wrapped my fingers around his thingy. I didnt know hed undone his trousers and I was very surprised, shocked even. I felt dizzy and couldnt concentrate. He held my hand in his and showed me how to rub him. God! It felt so huge. It was sticking up, was so hard, yetsort of soft and smooth and veiny and the skin moved in my hand. My fingers would hardly go round it. It felt so big and hot. Thats it, he said. Rub it like that. Not too fast. Oh, thats it. Just right Yes, just like that. Good girl. Give me a kiss. His lips came down over mine, wide and wet and soft. Then his tongue was in my mouth. He was giving me a real grown-up kiss. It felt strange at first, the way his tongue came into my mouth, forcing my lips wide, but I liked it. I let him do it for a long time and all the while his fingers were rubbing that special tingly spot in my privates and I was getting wetter and wetter. I rubbed his thingy like he showed me and could feel the loose skin slipping over the knob-end and my hand was wet. I wondered if boys men got wet when you rubbed them, like I did. Spider kissed my lips, my neck, my face, my eyes, everywhere he could, and I shivered when he stuck the tip of his tongue in my ear. My whole body felt as taut and tense as a live wire. I dont know exactly when, but the rain stopped and the wind dropped to nothing. Spider took his coat off us, turned it inside out and spread it on the grass beside the hedgerow. He said we should get more comfortable and pulled me down with him onto the coat. I lay on my back and he pulled me closer to him and pushed my skirt up around my waist. Lift up, he said, casually, as he knelt beside me. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my knickers. I raised my hips and he slid them down my trembling legs. He put his hands on the insides of my knees and spread my legs wider still. I felt the cool night air wafting around my heat, my exposed privates. What he did next really shocked me. I was aware of his dark shape kneeling between my spread legs and he seemed to be bending lower. I must taste that sweet little cunt of yours, Susan, Spider said, his voice croaky, then he reassuringly added, Dont worry. I wont hurt you. Ill make you feel really good, really special. And he certainly did that. The next thing I knew, his lips were kissing my belly, then my mound as he called it and then his tongue was right there on my special place and my belly started twitching like crazy. It felt so-o good. So-o dirty and wicked. I think I cried out. I put my hands over my face. I couldnt believe what was happening. He put his hands under my bum, one of his fingers actually right in the cleft, right on it, and lifted me to his mouth. I dont know why, but he told me I had to raise my legs and hold my knees up to my chest. Then he did it! He stuck his tongue right in my privates and in my bum. God! It felt likelike nothing on earth. I loved it. He kept doing me like that for a long time, sort of groaning and muttering dirty words and things. Then his tongue was tickling my special place and I felt one of his fingers actually go in my bum. Right in! It was wet and slippery and didnt hurt and he moved it in and out very slowly and gently. It filled me up and made me sort of want to poo, and yet not. The wondrous sensations raced all through my body and I could hardly breathe at all. I didnt know what was happening to me. It was like my heart was exploding and all my muscles spasmed and twitched and I cried out again. There my little angel. Did you like that? Y-yes, I gasped. I liked him calling me little angel. It made me feel real special. I had to ask what he did to me. I made you cum sweetheart, he said, and he took my hand and put it on his thingy again. Do you want to help make me cum? Ok, I said, not really sure what he meant. Let me lay down and you kneel over me. God, Ive wanted to fuck you ever since I first laid eyes on you. Youre such a little cutie. He showed me how he wanted me. I jumped when I felt his hot thingy actually touching my privates. He held it and rubbed it all along me. I was so-o wet. Spread your knees a little more darling, he said, helping me. Just relax and let me fuck it into you. I-Im scared itll hurt, I said, feeling very nervous. I bit my bottom lip. Dont worry, angel. I wont hurt you too much. Youre ripe and ready for cock. Just relax and let it up you. Then I felt it. A stretching sensation. His thingy was at my entrance, going up me. He put his hands on my hips and moved me onto it. Ooh, I said, anxiously. Dont worry my little love. Every girl in the world suffers a little discomfort the first time, but they still want it. You want it, too, dont you? You want my cock up your cunt dont you? Y-yes, I gasped. I felt myself opening around his thingy, stretching wider and wider. There was a little bit of scary pain, but I didnt want him to stop. Then, suddenly, he pushed his hips up and I was stretched and full and he was right in me. OohOoh, I mumbled, and for the first time in my life I was fully, impaled and helpless on mans thing, on hiscock. There, Spider said, slowly pulling me down and lifting me up. Youre a big girl now; a woman. Youre getting your little-girl pussy fully fucked. Youve got a cock in your tight, juicy little cunt. Oh God, you feel delicious. You were made for it. Ride me, come on girl. Fuck me. Make me cum. I didnt understand half the words he was using, but instinct took over and, while Spider tweaked and pulled at my tingling nipples, I raised and lowered myself on his huge thingy. It seemed to go in and out easily even though I could feel my insides gripping it tightly. It seemed to go right up into my belly and touch something up there. What little pain there was just went away and I began to get all tingly again. Spider put his hands on my bum, groaned, and started to quickly pull and push me backwards and forwards, really pumping his thingy in and out of me. Then he stopped, pulled me down on him and started kissing me again, pushing his tongue right into my mouth. His hands played with my bum cheeks and he wet his finger in my other place, where his thingy was, and slid it up my bum, moving it in and out like before. It felt uncomfortable at first, but thenthen I liked it. Get up on your feet, Spider said. I moved my legs forwards a bit, balanced and squatted over him. God, I wouldnt have thought it possible, but his thingy seemed to go even deeper. It hurt a little bit, but in a nice way. I gasped and my insides lurched. Yes, thats it. You can feel it now, eh Princess? Now bounce your little cunt on my cock. Go on, really fuck it for me. I tried to do what he wanted. I thought it was tearing me apart at first, but then the tingly, itchy, tickly feeling started and I got wetter and wetter again. Oh God! Spider groaned. Thats a good little girl. Fuck that cock for me. Again, he held my bum and made me bounce faster, then he gripped me and pulled me down really hard and I felt him squirting his hot stuff in me. His thingy throbbed and pulsed for ages. I didnt move, just leaned over him. He kissed me again, his tongue deep in my mouth, while he held my tingling boobs and I could feel his thingy wetly slipping and sliding in and out of me, slowly, in long deep strokes. After a breathless minute or two, in a whispery, dry voice, I asked him, Did I do it right? Did you do it? You were wonderful my little darling, wonderful, he said, kissing one of my nipples, sucking slurpily on it, nipping it with his teeth, making it really tingle. I swallowed and made a whimpering noise and he eventually stopped sucking. And, yes, he said, hoarsely, you made me cum a gallon. Are you sure you havent fucked before? N-no, I havent. Honestly. I never have done anything like this. Magic, Spider said. Pure magic. From now on youre going to be my girl arent you? I nodded. If you want me to be. Oh, I do. From now on I want you to be my little fuckstress and you will do everything I say. Ive got a lot to teach you. ButBut what about yourWhat about Rose? Wont she be mad at me? Dont worry, Princess, Spider chuckled. Ill have a word with her. She wont be mad at you. Actually, she wont mind a bit. In fact, shell probably want to have a little fun with you herself. I-IIm not sure what you - Suddenly, his lips urgently covered mine and his tongue was again thrusting into my mouth. His thing seemed to get harder inside me and he put his hands on my bum and made me move on him in the way he liked. Ooh, I muttered weakly into his mouth as he did it to me faster, making me bounce up and down. He took my breath away. I didnt realise hed want to do me again so soon. Spider rolled me off him and underneath him. He pulled my legs up and over his shoulders and he started to pump into me really hard and deep making my whole body jar and shake. He was puffing and panting and doing me for ages. God, youve got the tightest, slickest little cunt Ive ever been in. I want to fuck you all night. Have you ever sucked a mans cock, Princess? N-no, I said, not believing my ears. The things he said to me were soso awful, but seemed to stimulate and excite me more and more. I felt all hot and sweaty and tingly. Ill teach you how to do it, little darling. Dont worry. Youll get to like it after a while. Spider stopped doing me and pulled is long, hard thing out of me. He let my legs down and moved so he was up by my boobs. He lifted my head and put his thing right on my lips. Come on, now, he said, his breathing harsh. Open those luscious lips of yours. I did what he told me and he pushed his thing into my mouth. Oh, good girl. Thats it. Open wider. Dont bite me. Use your tongue around the end of my cock Yes, like that. Good. Oh, yes. Good. Youre a quick learner my little darling. Very quick. I tried to do as Spider wanted the best I could. He was a bit rough with me, but I didnt mind. I could smell and taste myself and his salty juices and he felt thick and fat and like he was going to go right down my throat. My jaws ached. At first, I thought I was going to choke. I did gag a couple of times, but he kept doing it saying for me not to worry, to open wider and relax and Id soon get used to him fucking my mouth. It wasnt so bad after a while and Spider said I was going to make one excellent little cocksucker before very long. He let me take a short break and said he would teach me all there was to know about pleasing a man and fucking and everything. ButIm only thirteen, I said. Well, little darlin, he said, chuckling low in his throat. You have to learn sometime and I would guess your body has been telling you for a while that the time is now. Suck my cock like I showed you. Even though my jaws really ached, I did. After a while, he began to do my mouth faster, pulling my head onto his thing and almost choking me. Ooh, ye-es, Spider gasped. Im going to cum. Keep sucking like that. Dont stop. When I cum, I want you to swallow it all. Every drop. The next thing I knew he was spurting his thick, creamy stuff into my mouth and I swallowed it as quickly as I could. It tasted sort of salty, bitter, tangy and fruity at the same time. He told me after that he drank plenty of orange juice so his spunk tasted nicer for Rose because he liked her to swallow too. After that we cleaned up and got dressed and Spider took me nearly to my door. He said hed see me tomorrow, after school, when I came over to play with the baby. He wouldnt let me have my knickers back. He said he wanted to keep them as a reminder of our special time together. After my bath, I was exhausted and aching and a bit sore. I didnt think I was going to get to sleep at all. My head was spinning with images of Spider and all that had happened between us and I couldnt help touching my special place. I couldnt believe Id actually done it, had sex with a real man for the first time. The next thing I knew it was morning. All that day at school, I was thinking about Spider, about his thing and about doing it. My privates felt a bit sore still, but they constantly tingled and I could sense I was wet down there most of the time. I saw David, but he didnt see me. I deliberately avoided him certain that, if he saw my face or looked into my eyes just once, hed know in an instant what had happened between me and his Dad. Through the afternoon, as the time drew nearer for me to go visit the Webbs, the more nervous and worried I became. How would I ever be able to face Rose again? I felt so guilty. From day one, she had been so nice to me and really didnt deserve me doing what I had done with Spider. What would happen now? I had had sex with her husband and try as I might to hide it, stupid as I am, I was bound to give myself away somehow. As the minutes ticked by, my anxiety grew and grew. As soon as I got in from school, I had a quick bath and put on fresh underclothes and, as Spider had instructed I do, a skinny top and short skirt. I was glad my Mum was working, because she has a sixth sense as to whether anything is bothering me or not and would have quizzed me mercilessly until she had discovered what my problem was. I knew I would have to be extra cautious around her for a few days, maybe even weeks. I nervously waited around in doors for as long as I dared, but knew that the time had come when I couldnt put off the dreaded visit any longer. Biting the bullet, pretending as best I could that everything was hunky dory, I skipped across the road to whatever fate awaited me. My insides were in turmoil, but Rose greeted me the same as always, made me orange juice, and chatted away as though everything was perfectly normal. Within minutes, I knew I had nothing at all to worry about and, relaxed and relieved, was happily playing with baby Karen in the lounge while Rose prepared the evening meal in the kitchen. Spider came in about a half-hour later cracking his jokes and playing the fool, making us all laugh before going upstairs to wash and change. I saw no sign of David and later discovered that he had band rehearsals and wouldnt be home until later that night. I suppose it must have been about twenty minutes later when Spider came into the lounge and, in front of baby Karen, took me in his arms and started kissing me. He really surprised me. I struggled a bit because of the baby being there and, more so, because of Rose being just in the kitchen. Of course, me trying to fight off a man of his size was a complete waste of time. PleaseMr Webb. Spider. Dont do this. Stop it, I protested as his big hands held my bum and he pulled me against his obviously hard thing. Stop! Rose will catch us. Spider chuckled and held me tightly in his arms, his fingers going right into the crease of my bottom. Ive missed you, Princess, he said, close to my ear. My cocks been hard all day thinking about you and that tight little quim of yours. I want to fuck you so badly. God, I didnt know what to do. I could feel my cheeks flaming. Struggle as I might to escape his embrace, I felt my insides swirling and my privates begin to tingle in that now familiar, pleasurable way. As quick as a flash, he turned me around and bent me over the back of the sofa. He was so strong. I was helpless and couldnt move. I felt him lift my skirt right up my back and tug my flimsy white knickers down to my knees in one quick jerk. Then I felt his warm hand on my bottom, stroking and smoothing the skin, gently squeezing each cheek. I didnt struggle and lay absolutely still. Plee-ease, no Spider. Stop, I protested, but only quietly in case Rose heard me. Youve got a delicious little arse, Princess, Spider said, ignoring my desperate pleas. So round and tight. So flawlessly white and firm. I love it. Baby Karen made a gurgling noise and giggled, then said in her funny baby-talk, Daddy play with Suzy. Daddy play with Suzy botty. Yes, sweety, Spider said. Daddy likes to play with Suzys botty. Its a lovely botty. I was stunned, anxious and excited all at the same time, and gasped as Spider cupped his hand between my legs, right along my privates and, hooking his finger, began to diddle my special place while the ball of his thumb pressed against my back passage. I was bent over so far, he had easy access to all of me - everything. My thighs quivered with tension, my knees became like rubber and the wings of a thousand butterflies fluttered deep in my belly. I couldnt worry about Rose or being caught right then and I moaned as his thick thumb pressed against my bum and began to ease into me. Oh, yes, he said, quietly and seriously. Youre all puffy and wet little Princess. Id say youve missed me as much as Ive missed you. You want some cock dont you, darling? And the sooner the better by the feel of your sweet little quim. Is that what you want? Do you want Spiders big hard cock in here? He suited actions to words and I whimpered a weak yes as he slid two fingers inside me and his thumb right in my bum. I yelped because I was still sore a bit, but it soon went away and I began to feel the pleasure stars burst in my belly. Yes what? Tell Spider what you want, Princess. This time there was no darkness to hide behind, no night surrounding us. It was light and all my naked lust was revealed for the world to see. I could have died of embarrassment, but I didnt care. I was so hot and needy, I think I would have said anything he wanted. My insides churned as his fingers and thumb moved rapidly in and out of me. I heard how wet I was, a sort of squishy, squelching noise. II want you to do me. P-please do it to me. Thats not what I want to hear little girl. Tell me again what you want and use the proper words this time. Ooh, please dont make me, I whimpered, almost in tears. I c-cant say those rude words. I-I just c-cant! Yes you can, angel. Feel my fingers in your cunt? Think how much better my cock will feel. Come on, tell Daddy what you want theres a good girl. Say you want my big cock. Behind us somewhere, baby Karen said cock as plain as day. See, Spider said, frantically working his fingers and thumb in me, making me quiver from head to toe. Even my three-year old daughter can say it. Tell Daddy what you want. Spiders fingers danced their magic dance and all resistance drained from me as a great wave of sensation washed over me making my tummy lurch, my legs spasm off the floor and my head jerk up to the ceiling. OohAh! Ooh, God! W-whats happening? Thats it. Cum for Daddy, Spider said, breathlessly, almost whispering. Cum for Daddy. Oh, please, I shamelessly begged, fuck me with your big hard cock. Fuck me! Where do you want Daddy to fuck you, Princess? Tell him nicely. Fuck my cunt! Please fuck your big hard cock up my cunt. Good girl! That wasnt so bad now was it? Spider suddenly stood me up and began tugging at my clothes. W-what? What are y-you going to do? I panted, my legs all wobbly. Spider chuckled that low, now familiar, chuckle. Im taking your clothes off, sweety. I want you naked so I can enjoy you more. N-no Please Rose will Hush little darling. Stop worrying. Lift your arms up. I raised my arms almost without thinking and Spider slipped my top over my head. Next, he undid my skirt and let it drop to my ankles. In no time, I was as naked, blushing and pink as the day I was born. He grabbed my hand and dragged me around to the front of the sofa. He pushed his trousers down and sat on the wide cushions then turned me and pulled me backwards onto him. There, now, little baby, Spider said, his breath scalding my ear and his lips burning their way down my neck. Just lean back and relax. Spread your legs wide. Thats it. Thats very good. As I lay back over him, he put slid his warm hands under my arms and cupped my little titties. He squeezed and fondled them, pinching my raised nipples with his thumbs and fingers. I could feel his thing all along my tingling privates and sticking up between my thighs. My hips were rolling from side to side of their own volition and I pressed my bum into the hairy man-flesh beneath me. I raised my head, had to look down; had to see it. Beyond the veined, angry-red, staff of his thing, I could see baby Karen sitting on the rug, smiling up at us. Suzy play with Daddy, she said. Ye-es, I gasped, haltingly, reaching a hand out to tentatively grasp that monster maleness. Spider didnt even have to ask or show me this time. I curled my fingers around the thick girth and gently moved my hand up and down the fat length. God, I felt so lewd, so hot. Thats it. Wank Daddys cock, darling. Good girl. Cock! Wank! Karen said. Just then I got the shock of my life. My heart almost stopped as the lounge door opened and in walked Rose. She was naked and smiling. Completely transfixed, I stared at Roses gorgeous figure. She had lovely firm, full breasts. Her nipples were as hard as mine, much bigger of course, and seemed to stick out a good inch. Her waist was narrow, hips rounded, and her legs long. I remember how struck I was by the fact she, too, had no hair around her privates. She was staring back at me and seemed to be taking in every detail of my body also. I was embarrassed, but felt my insides turning molten with desire. I was so turned on. Oh, Danny. You were so right. Shes adorable. Rose walked past baby Karen and kneeled in front of us. She put her hands on my knees and pressed my legs outwards, spreading them wider. Completely stunned, I just lay limply on Spider. Heart in my mouth, I helpless, wide-eyed and speechless. Ooh, ye-es. Such a neat, tight little package, Rose said. She has a beautiful split peach. Her lips are so tight and puffy-plump. Im going to have to taste that. Put my cock in her first, darling. I really need to feel her sweet, juicy cunt wrapped around me. Rose giggled. Shall I suck him for you first? Oh please, baby. Please. With that, I watched intently, awed and fascinated, as Rose lowered her thick, pouting lips over the engorged shaft sticking up between my quivering thighs and engulfed it fully into her ever widening mouth. Spider groaned. Oh ye-es! Oh God, yesss! Suck it, baby. Take it deep. Roses head slowly bobbed up and down, the fat shaft wetly appearing and disappearing into her throat. Her hands felt as if they were burning through my thighs. Occasionally, her lips touched my little bud and I thought I was losing my mind. Id never felt anything like it. Watch carefully, Suzy, Spider breathed into my ear, his hands gently squeezing my boobs. Not everybody gets the chance to see an expert suck cock. Watch and learn. Then, to my utter astonishment, he said to Rose, Play with Suzys clit darling. I know you want to and I know she wants you to. A second later, I almost lurched off of Spider as Rose, still sucking on the throbbing shaft, daintily tweaked my special spot, rotating the tip of her finger in just the right way. Sensations rippled through my taut belly to my nipples and back again. My spine arched and my spread thighs twitched uncontrollably. I felt as if my insides were about to explode. Rose stopped sucking and, saliva running down her chin, raised her flushed face. She looked at me through smouldering, half-lidded eyes as she licked her moist lips and said, Her clit is like an excited little cock, Danny. All red and stiff and begging. Spider chuckled. How wet is she? Rose slowly slid her finger down through the lips of my privates. I felt her twirl it around at my entrance then slide it back to my special spot my clit, as I now realised what it was called. She rapidly flicked her fingernail across it. I gasped and jumped. Shes right on the edge, soaking and ripe-ready to fuck. I told you she was a hot little cherry didnt I? Put me in her, darling. Stick my cock in that juicy quim. Still looking at me and diddling my clit, Rose swiped her free hand across her lips. Make her ask for it first. What do you want, Suzy? Tell Daddy angel. Breathless, beyond any normal state of caring, I stared straight into Roses avid gaze and said, I want your big cock in my cuntDaddy. Oh yes. Shes certainly a sexy little slut. Are you sure she was only popped for the first time last night? Rose smiled. Absolutely, Spider groaned. Put it in her, baby. Amazing. Rose looked down, put her hand flat over my gyrating mound, her thumb rolling my clit. I felt her other hand doing something at my entrance then, suddenly, I felt the huge head of Spiders cock stretching me, opening me, sliding up into my slick, clinging, aching cunt. He slammed into me, jolting my whole body, making me bounce with each deep thrust. I couldnt help crying out as the delicious waves of pleasure sparked and exploded inside me. Shes cumming already, Rose said. Ooh God! That is bliss! Spider gasped. Shes milking me, sucking me off with her cunt. I told you this kid was born to fuck. AhOoh! Suck her clit, darling. Make her cum again on my cock. Rose lowered her head and I felt her lips on me. Her tongue danced over my clit and I literally vibrated on Spiders throbbing prong. I felt him surge within me and thought the top of my head was going to come off. I cried out again, a long wail of almost painful pleasure. Je-ezzusss! Spider groaned and I felt him pumping great globs of hot cum into my writhing belly as Rose gently nibbled and licked my fiery clit. God, Danny. Youre like a rampant fucking horse. Its all bubbling out of her. I think youve probably impregnated her little womb with that multi-squirt of juice. Oh, yeah! Spider moaned pumping his huge rod deeper into me. Oh God, yesss! Id love to stick one in her oven. Thats how its been now for two whole weeks. Every night, Rose and Spider share and suck and fuck me. Spider made me suck Roses clit and put my finger in her bum. Ive learned how to make her cum with my tongue in minutes. He even puts his big cock up both our bums and shoots his cum up there. At first, I found it really uncomfortable being fucked in the arse as he put it, but now Im used to it I love it. I love it all, every depraved thing they make me do. Rose says I am the most amazing little fuck toy shes ever known. She couldnt believe I am only thirteen. And thats my problem. I dont even think of David any more and Im not interested in my school work or any of the daily activities. I live to be with Spider and Rose. I want to be with them 24/7. Of course, I know that, in the real world, that isnt possible, but thats all I dream about. They have both warned me not to tell anyone, not a soul, about whats going on or we could all end up in big trouble with the police and stuff because I am underage. How ridiculous is that? How can such wonderful pleasure be against the law? I really dont understand that. No body forced me or made me do anything I didnt want to do. I was ready for everything weve done together. At night, after our sessions and Im home in bed, I have to rub my clit and make myself cum one more time before I go to sleep. My cums just get stronger and stronger. Rose says Im a right little nymphomaniac. Mum says I look pale and tired and need more early nights, but I know what I need and its not early nights unless its early nights with Spider and Rose.

(Videll Dais) New Story Strong Persuader (FF/M, reluc, Lez, wife cheat.) by Videll Dais "If you're that short of cash," Margaret said, "why not do some part time modeling. I have a photographer friend who pays good money. He's always looking for new models." "I couldn't do that," Sandy said, looking aghast at her best friend's suggestion. "What would Dan say? You know how jealous he is. Just the thought of another man looking at me would set him off." Margaret shrugged. "What the eye doesn't see, dear," she said. "He's working in Germany so how will he know? I certainly won't tell him." "I couldn't take that chance," Sandy shook her head, her long red curls tumbling around her pretty face. "He'd hit the roof; probably divorce me or something. Besides, I haven't got the looks or figure for modeling." "Are you kidding?" Margaret asked, a sarcastic note to her voice. "I'd give my right arm to look like you. Most women would. You're a twenty-year-old with the face of an angel. You're tall, slim; you've got a lovely firm bust and a nicely shaped bottom. All your curves are in the right places. Believe me, you've got what it takes. You could earn yourself a small fortune in no time." Sandy blushed. She was shy, modest, relatively nave, and not used to frank appraisals or compliments even from her best friend. She made more coffee for Margaret, quiet, thoughtful for a while. Placing a fresh cup on the kitchen table, she said, "How much does your friend pay?" "Ah-ha," Margaret smiled. "Not such a bad idea after all, eh?" Sandy grinned. "I'm just curious that's all. I'd never actually do it." "No, of course you wouldn't," Margaret said, with obvious disbelief, a slight smile playing around the corners of her painted lips. She sipped her coffee, lit another cigarette. She tossed back her mane of black hair, exhaled a cloud of aromatic smoke and said, "The need for money can sometimes be an overwhelming persuader, Sandy, so don't try to kid an old kidder. For fashion work, the rates are anything from twenty to forty pounds per hour depending on experience and demand. But there's rarely a vacancy in that line. Paul requires nude work right now and you're talking serious money. I know he pays a minimum of a hundred and fifty per session. More for the adult stuff." Sandy looked astonished. "Wow, that's a lot of money." Margaret nodded. "Just for taking your clothes off." "I couldn't do it," Sandy blushed. "Not in front of a stranger anyway." "Of course you could," Margaret said, flatly. "I did." "You?" Sandy was surprised. "You never told me." "You never asked. I've been doing it quite a while. My figure's not as good as yours, but for my age, I get by." Sandy giggled. "God, Margaret. You're only twenty-six and there's absolutely nothing wrong with your figure." "Twenty-six is old by modeling standards darling. Things are beginning to droop a bit and I'm getting thick around the hips. You, on the other hand, could easily pass for sixteen, seventeen. That's what they want these days, young, innocent looking girls with svelte bodies." "I couldn't pose nude, though," Sandy said, "not for any amount of money." "You undress for your doctor don't you?" Sandy frowned. "That's different altogether." "It's no different at all," Margaret tutted. "The doctor's a professional. So is Paul. He doesn't see you in a sexual light when you're undressed. All he sees is a model; a woman doing a job." "Nevertheless," Sandy said, "Dan's the only man who's seen me without clothes. I could never allow a complete stranger to photograph me naked no matter how much money he's willing to pay. I'd be too embarrassed for a start." "You could begin by doing lingerie or some glamour first," Margaret suggested. "What, pose in my underwear you mean?" "Yes. Or a bikini," Margaret smiled broadly. "That wouldn't be so bad as being stark naked would it? You don't mind prancing around the beach in a bikini do you?" "Well, no, but..." Sandy broke off. She blinked, averted her emerald green eyes from her friend's enquiring expression. She dropped her gaze coyly to the tabletop and her empty coffee cup. "I don't know," she said, thoughtfully. "Maybe. Maybe not." Margaret stubbed out her cigarette in the silver ashtray. "Well, I'm only trying to help," she said. "At least think about it. Once you're used to Paul and the camera, maybe later you could work up to showing off a little bit more. Whatever, it would still be good money." "I'm tempted," Sandy admitted, "but I'd be much too nervous." "What about...?" Margaret paused, silently turning over an idea in her head for a long minute. Sandy waited, finally saying, "Spit it out then." "Well, what about if I give Paul a ring, arrange an appointment for you to do a test shoot, and go along with you for moral support." Sandy made a face, biting at her lower lip. "Oh, I need the money, but don't know if I could go through with it. What if Dan should see the photographs? He'd kill me." Margaret smiled. "Oh, Sandy. You're just looking for excuses. You've been married eighteen months and already you're becoming a kept woman. Be your own person. He doesn't own you. Besides, how on earth would Dan ever get to see the photographs? You worry too much. Say you'll give it a try. I'll be there with you and if you don't like it or think it's not for you, no harm done." Sandy thought it over a moment longer. "Okay," she nodded. "I'll give it a try. Make the appointment." "Wonderful!" Margaret shouted, laughed and clapped her hands together. "Didn't I say money was the great persuader? Don't forget to wax your bikini line, girl. I just know you'll be a big success." Paul Stoat lived up to his name and was nothing like Sandy had imagined. The man was about forty, short and squat, with thinning, unruly gray hair, and small, squinting eyes set in a face that reminded her of a stoat or weasel. He was unshaven, and untidy wearing just a loose shirt over shorts and sandals on bare feet. Sandals? He had quite a beer belly, was forever biting his nails and never seemed to be still for a second. Sandy wrinkled her cute nose. How distasteful, she thought. He appeared hardly to notice her at all as he ferreted around his dimly lit studio busying himself by constantly fiddling, adjusting lights, cameras and other equipment. Margaret saw the consternation on Sandy's face and whispered in her ear. "Don't judge him by his looks or manner. He's very good at what he does." When he was ready, he came over to Sandy and Margaret. "Okay, Maggie," he said, talking directly to her. Apart from a quick head to toe appraisal, he just about ignored Sandy. "You know the routine. Take your friend in the other room to change. You'll find swimwear and underwear in there all clean and new. We'll do the swimwear shots first, okay?" In the changing room, Sandy sat on the edge of a single bed piled with various articles of clothing, most of it sheer, skimpy and very sexy. She heaved a long sigh. "God, my insides are churning. I'm not sure about this." "Relax, Sandy." Margaret stood in front of her friend, placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "You'll be fine. Paul may seem a little abrupt and distant, but believe me he's carefully noted all your qualities. If you didn't meet his requirements, we'd be in the car and on our way home by now." "Oh, I wish we were," Sandy said. "I can't stop shaking." "Don't worry. We're all like that when we're starting out. I was. It's only natural. Come on, get undressed. We mustn't keep Paul waiting." Sandy grabbed the hem of her T-shirt, hesitated. Eyes wide, she looked up at Margaret inquiringly. "Oh, come on, Sandy." Margaret made a gesture of hopelessness with her hands. "Surely you don't mind undressing in front of me. God, you've got nothing I haven't seen before." A moment later, Sandy was sitting in just jeans and bra, a thin, lacy affair that pushed her small, firm breasts together and upwards revealing a striking cleavage of lightly freckled, pale, creamy flesh. The cups were almost transparent and her pink, erect nipples could clearly be seen through the material. Trying not to stare too much at her friend's delightful charms, Margaret offered encouragement. "There," she said, "nothing to it. Now the jeans. Quickly." Blushing furiously, Sandy stood up. She fumbled with the fly of her 501's and slid the garment over her rounded hips, down her thighs and long legs and stepped out of them. She tossed the jeans on the end of the bed with a casualness she was far from feeling. Enviously Margaret eyed the snug white panties cut low across Sandy's slightly rounded belly and high on her hips. The panties left most of her friend's bottom bare, each full cheek taut, smooth and unblemished. God, she looked positively ravishing. Sandy turned her back as she unfastened her bra. She let the garment slip down her arms and placed it with her jeans. As she reached for a bikini top, Margaret glimpsed perfect orbs hard as apples, tipped with sharp, excited nipples. The white panties soon whispered down Sandy's long legs to reveal a sprinkling of neatly trimmed red pubes covering her full mount leaving the girlish line of her sex clearly defined. She quickly replaced them with a string bikini bottom that could hardly be called decent; a fact Sandy was quick to point out. "This thing is far too small. It barely covers me, Margaret. It's awful." Sandy, red-faced, nervously fidgeted and tugged the clinging material into place around the bulge of her prominent crotch. "It's fine, Sandy, you look absolutely stunning," Margaret said, unashamedly eyeing her friend's natural assets. "I've told you before, you worry too much." Sandy frantically adjusted the miniscule bra to cover as much of her delightful breasts as possible. She was fighting a losing battle. The small, v-shape scraps of cloth only just hid her nipples leaving much of the creamy globes exposed. "Worry too much? God, that man will be able to see practically everything I've got." "He sees a lot more than that every day, dear," Margaret admonished lightly. "He'll be looking at the whole picture, not focusing on any particular part of you. Just relax, think of the money, and try to enjoy the experience. It's really easy once you get in to it." Turning to face Margaret, a blushing Sandy touched at her tumbling red curls and said, "Okay, I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Let's go before I lose my nerve altogether." After a rather tense, slow start, the next hour passed reasonably quickly with Sandy posing more easily, changing effortlessly into different brief costumes, and gaining in confidence with each passing minute. It wasn't long before she lost her initial apprehension, felt quite at ease and actually began to enjoy playing up to the camera. Even when Paul Stoat adjusted her poses, placing his hands briefly on her bare arm, bottom, belly or thigh, Sandy hardly noticed the man's close proximity or almost uncommon familiarity with her body. It was smiles all round when he eventually turned to Margaret and said, "I like her. She's beautiful and a natural." They had a fifteen-minute break. Sandy and Margaret had a cup of coffee and chatted enthusiastically about the session. "I found the lights a bit bothersome, at first," Sandy said. "Made me all hot and sweaty." "Oh, you were hot all right and it had nothing to do with the lights." Margaret said, teasingly. "I think you were turned on especially when Paul touched your bum a couple of times." Sandy reddened. "Really, Margaret. That's a horrible thing to say." She glanced over her shoulder, lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "I don't find him in the least bit attractive." "You were definitely turned on, dear. Maybe it was just being near naked in front of us and the camera," Margaret suggested. "It's happened to me before." "I wasn't turned on." "Not even a little bit?" "N-No." Sandy's face was positively incandescent. "Well, it certainly looked like it to me - especially when you were stretched out on that sun lounge," Margaret was grinning wickedly. "Arms over your head, legs spread indecently wide. That costume didn't hide much at all. Paul and I could see most of your delicious little pussy." "Margaret! Really! Stop it!" "You were turned on. Admit it." "I wasn't." Looking utterly embarrassed, Sandy covered her blushing cheeks with her hands. Enjoying the teasing, Margaret continued to push her friend. "Come on, Sandy. You can tell me. Didn't you feel just a tiny bit sexy? Just a teeny weenie bit itchy down there?" Sandy groaned. "Oh, all right," she said, resignedly. "If you must know, yes. I was turned on. But only a bit." "I knew it." Margaret, pleased with winning her case, couldn't resist remarking on how much fun Sandy was having. "You're a latent exhibitionist. I told you it would be the easiest money you'd ever earn didn't I?" "Yes, okay." Sandy said, still blushing, her eyes demurely lowered. "You were right again, as usual. No need to rub it in." Both girls laughed. Paul Stoat came over and interrupted, reminding them it was time for the underwear session. He turned to Margaret. "Have you told her?" Margaret looked unusually coy. "Eh, no, Paul. Not yet." "Well, might be good if you tell her now and get yourself changed." Frowning, Sandy fixed a slightly bewildered gaze on Margaret. "Told me what?" Paul Stoat turned and went back to his cameras immediately making himself busy. Margaret crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her loose top and pulled it up over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were magnificent. "Margaret - what are you doing?" "Paul needs both of us for this session," Margaret said, quite unabashed by her semi-nudity. "It's a special video shoot for a big customer of his; a home shopping catalogue. We're required to look sexy and be photographed holding various sex toys. It's easy. Come on, let's get changed." Sandy looked appalled. "Sex toys! "Yes, you know, rubber cocks, vibrators, and so on." "God, why...why didn't you tell me? What if...?" "I didn't want to scare you off, sweetie," Margaret interrupted, entering the changing room, casually slipping out of her bikini pants. Sandy couldn't help staring at her friend's bald pubic mound. God, it looked like a young girl's, the slit a smooth indentation, the skin pale and clean. Margaret noticed her friend looking at her sex and smiled. "As a rule, Paul likes his models shaved," she said. "If you do more stuff for him, he'll want you to shave, too. Stockings, suspenders, bra and knickers first, okay?" "Margaret, I'm not sure I want to do this," Sandy said, sounding none too pleased. "You should have told me. I don't want to play with rubber things and...and whatever." "Oh, come on, Sandy," Margaret said. "Okay, I'm sorry I sort of sprang it on you, but don't let me down now. It'll be fun. Really. You'll soon relax just like you did for the bikini stuff. It's all very tame. Think of the money, dear. Here, put this on." Margaret passed Sandy something small, unrecognizable, made of stretchy black netting. Sandy couldn't help staring at her friend's naked body, taut and curvaceous. "Supposing I refuse," she said, defiantly. Margaret was rolling a black nylon stocking up her shapely, tanned calves. She paused, looked up at Sandy, a serious expression on her face. "Then," she said, slowly, "you won't get paid for what you've already done and that would be a complete waste of time wouldn't it. Now put the undies on and let's get on with it. No more moans and groans, okay?" Sulking, Sandy began to remove the bikini she was still wearing. "Okay, you win. I will do it, but under protest. Next time, just don't spring any more surprises on me." "Good girl," Margaret smiled, adjusting the second stocking around the top of a round, firm thigh. "I knew you'd be up for it." The set was laid out to represent the interior of an exotic bedroom. There was a large bed covered with a white counterpane, an ornate, matching bedside chair had been placed on a white fur rug on the floor. The whole scene was shrouded in a lot of hanging white lace. The lights were tinted giving the scene a warm, pink look. Several of the "toys" were already on display on the bed. Paul Stoat was in his usual place behind a video camera on a tripod. Margaret seemed to know the score. "Right, Sandy, you stretch out on the bed. Make yourself comfortable." She held a hand over her eyes to shade the glare from the lights. "What do you want first, Paul?" She called into the darkness beyond the lights. "Or do you want me to play it by ear?" Stoat's voice came from somewhere amid the deep shadows, cool and to the point. "Just do what you've got to do." Margaret, looking every inch a sex goddess in a black two-piece bra and g-string set, and black stockings stretched out on the bed beside Sandy. Propped on one elbow, she smiled down into the beautiful face of her nervous friend. "We'll start with these," she said, magically producing a pair of fur-lined handcuffs. "Stretch your arms above your head." Sandy hesitantly did as Margaret told her, watching curiously her friend secured her wrists, snapping the handcuffs closed around each of her wrists. "Not too tight are they?" Margaret asked. "N-no," Sandy said. "They're okay." "Good. Now stretch up, push your boobs out. Close your eyes and relax, sweetie," she said. "All we've got to do is act the part for half an hour and we'll be done." Sandy was taken completely by surprise when Margaret quickly slipped the miniscule triangle of material of her bra aside, and gently cupped a warm hand over her bared left breast, pinching the nipple to an immediate erection of tight, excited flesh. She gasped with shock. "Marg-!" "Shush, now. Paul likes us to have hard nipples for these types of shots," Margaret said, smiling as she gently palmed the firm round globe, working the nipple between thumb and forefinger. "He also," she said, "wants a bit of playacting - like we're actually using these gadgets. Forget he's there and just have fun, okay? Remember, you're being well paid." "You never said ... anything about t-that! Stop it! P-please...S-stop!" Sandy blushed hotly as her nipple responded instantly to Margaret's deft manipulation. Dan had been away in Germany for five weeks with his job and she was missing the physical side of their relationship badly. He was a very switched on lover and it wasn't easy for a newlywed girl to return to enforced celibacy after regular nightly sex. Apart from a couple of fumbling lads at school (on the outside of her clothes) and her husband, nobody had ever touched her breasts like this, especially not another woman and certainly not a woman who could press all the right buttons. "I-I just can't allow you to - oomph!" Sandy's protests were rudely interrupted as Margaret leaned heavily into her, effectively holding her down, and fastened soft wet lips over her own. Her mind reeled in confusion as Margaret's tongue slipped expertly into her mouth. "Mmm!" Sandy squealed. Struggling with her own inhibitions and her friend's persistent demands, she placed her secured hands on Margaret's shoulders and shoved, trying to push her off. Margaret held on to Sandy, working her tongue deep into her young friend's mouth. She made to improve her advantage by tugging the skimpy bra free from both Sandy's delicious springy breasts. She cupped a pliant orb, thumbing the turgid pink nipple After what seemed like an age, Margaret breathlessly broke the kiss. "Wow! I enjoyed that didn't you, Sandy? You taste like fresh peaches." Sandy exhaled a gasping breath. "God..." she uttered, struggling still against Margaret's intimate embrace. "W-what's going on? What do you think you're doing?" "What d'you think I'm doing, Sandy? I'm kissing your lovely lips and playing with your gorgeous tits. We have to look as if we're enjoying it. Paul insists. I'm going to put these little sucker things on your nipples. Don't worry; they won't hurt. Just pretend you're really loving it." "I don't want ...Ah-Oh! S-stop!" Margaret had no intention of stopping. She'd been dying to get the lovely Sandy into a sexy clinch like this for a long time and aimed to take the fullest advantage of it. Eyes bright with desire, she pinched each of her friend's nipples hard, exciting the tight buds into stalks a half-inch in length. Almost without pause in her attack, she fixed a small glass suction cup onto both teats. Each cup had a tiny rubber bulb attached that, when pumped, exerted any amount of pressure. Margaret worked the bulbs and watched as Sandy's nipples extended impossibly longer, sucked up into the cups. Margaret said, "These suckers are supposed to feel very stimulating." She robustly worked each of Sandra's nipples, smiling with undisguised glee as her friend wriggled and squirmed, sexily rolling her smooth creamy-skinned belly, enticingly opening and closing her long stocking-sheathed legs. "Can you imagine?" Margaret went on, ignoring Sandy's gasps and struggles. "Women actually purchase these things to excite themselves. Poor dears. Having said that, though, judging by how excited your nipples are I'd say they're doing a rather superb job. You can put some on my tits next, Sandy." Listening to Margaret being so crude, so sexual, was having quite an effect on Sandy. She was utterly shocked at how quickly her body was becoming aroused. The tingling in her clamped nipples and the queasy feeling in her belly had stepped up a notch and, worse, she could feel a warm dampness between her thighs. She groaned loudly, splayed her legs in an effort to rise, get up off the bed and away from Margaret who, it seemed, had completely lost her mind. "Margaret - please!" Sandy pleaded. "This has to stop. I-I...I'm not sure I like this. That man is watching us. He...he's gloating. Let me up, please. For God's sake!" "Now you just stay put, sweetie," Margaret said, her right hand slithering over the concave smoothness of Sandy's belly then under the thin band of knicker elastic, finally coming to rest fully over her prominently bulging mound. Sandy squealed, clamped her thighs tightly together over the probing fingers and tried to wriggle free from Margaret's embrace, but her efforts were thwarted by Margaret's surprisingly heavy frame pinning her down. Sandy squeezed her thighs tighter together and drew her knees up, "Margaret! No! Take your hand away!" But Margaret's hand was not to be denied. Quickly a deft finger sought the moist divide of Sandy's soft, pouting sex lips. "My, my! Are we excited or what? You're cunt is soaking, darling. I think maybe now's the time to demonstrate another of these exotic sex toys don't you?" "Oh, s-stop...STOP! P-PLEASE! MARGARET!" Sandy cheeks flushed. She groaned, squeezing her thighs together, her hips instinctively rising as Margaret's finger slipped back and forth along the soft, slippery in-rolling cleft of her sex-lips, exerting just enough pressure to spread them easily apart. In the next instant, Margaret was diddling the rising bud of Sandy's oily clit, her finger moving over the hard little nub like a demented eel. "There," Margaret whispered, "does that feel nice? Your clit seems to like a tickle. I think you're getting hot again, Sandy. Very hot." Sandy's belly trembled as a wave of sensual excitement flowed like an electric current from her clit to her breasts and back again. She couldn't believe Margaret was saying the things she was saying, actually touching her...right there! Or how responsive her body was despite her reluctance. She gasped for breath, thought for one awful minute she was going to faint. How could this friend she loved and trusted almost as much as her own husband behave in this fashion? And in front of a man! A complete stranger! "Let's get these knickers off. You won't be needing those for a while." "NO! MARGARET - NO PLEASE! DON'T! DON'T TAKE THEM OFF!" Margaret wasn't listening. She tugged Sandy's panties down her thighs, then down to her ankles and off. Sandy sat up, but Margaret pushed her gently back down again, held her manacled hands above her head out of the way leaving the gorgeous girl's exquisite body naked and defenseless. "Don't be silly, Sandy," Margaret whispered, her tongue flicking into the girl's ear, while her hand played freely over her exposed breasts and spiked nipples, giving the bulbs on the suckers another squeeze. "Just lie back. Relax and enjoy. Leave everything to me." Sandy gave up her pointless struggling, laid still and let Margaret do virtually whatever she liked to her. She felt as though both her nipples were being constantly and vigorously sucked upon. Her breasts and nipples tingled under Margaret's expert hands, and she felt a wondrous churning sensation deep in the pit of her writhing belly much as Dan made her feel when he made love to her. This can't be happening to me, she thought feeling her cheeks burning. It just can't be happening. Margaret was whispering in her ear again: "Open your legs, Sandy dear. Come on. Don't fight it. We have to demonstrate these sex toys. Open your legs darling." Sandy felt Margaret cup a palm over her mound again, her long fingers prying, snaking between her tightly clasped thighs, seeking out her sex, her traitorous clit, making her feel things no one but her husband should make her feel. "Open your legs, Sandy. Come on. Don't make me force you. Do as your told." "No - please... Don't do this..." "Don't be silly," Margaret said, licking wetly along Sandy's jaw line, up to her ear, back again to her sweet mouth, her tongue probing, seeking weaknesses. "Let yourself go. Relax. Enjoy. There's only the two of us here. Let me play with your lovely cunt. Let me make you cum like you've never cum before. You need it. You know you do." With a small whimper, Sandy trembled, closed her eyes and relaxed her thigh muscles, allowing Margaret to separate her legs, push them wide apart. "Good," Margaret said, her lips close to Sandy's, her breath warm on her face and the curve of her neck. "That's much better isn't it? Let me give you pleasure, lot's of pleasure." Sandy flinched, then groaned as Margaret's finger traced a fiery path along her slit down to her anus and back again, back and forth, slowly. Then the finger sought her secret entrance, her honey pot, her hot slick interior. Sandy's full lips parted, she gasped and groaned again as the digit easily slipped up her, burrowing deep into her cunt. She couldn't believe how wet and open she felt. Another finger joined the first and Sandy's hips and belly began to move involuntarily with the slow in out, in out motion. Oh God, she thought, I'm letting Margaret do me in front of that horrible Paul Stoat. He's filming everything! He can see every bit of me! Everything! How utterly disgusting but, disgusting or not, the more she thought about it, the more excited it seemed to make her feel. She was panting now. She couldn't help it. The sensations flowing through her body were incredible. Margaret smiled as she watched the little beauty writhe to her fingering. "Oh yes. You like that don't you, sweetie? A nice deep, slow finger fuck. Feels good, huh? Really get's the juices flowing doesn't it?" Margaret tugged up her own bra. Her full, round breasts spilled free, the nipples large and spiked. She cupped a fleshy orb with her free hand and pressed the erect nipple to Sandy's lips. "Suck my tit, sweetie. Suck on it for me." Without realizing precisely what she was doing, panting through her nose, Sandy opened her moist lips and fastened on the offered nipple, nipping it with her teeth before sucking it deep into her mouth and flicking her tongue around the fat nub. "Oh God, yes! That's it. Suck on it for me, baby. Suck that tit." Sandy's rounded buttocks flexed, her belly and mound moving in perfect rhythm against the hand, the probing fingers. Her nipples felt huge, the suckers seemingly trying to suck her entire breasts up into their tiny nozzles. She was floating on a tide of carnal lust, sensations sparking all through her body. She groaned as Margaret removed her fingers from her inflamed quim. Somewhere close by Sandy became aware of a high-pitched buzzing noise, but didn't make a connection as to what it might be at first, then she felt something quivering, something fat and round parting her slippery cunt lips. "Oh, Jesus!" She gasped, as Margaret eased the huge vibrating cock into her cunt, in and in, deeper and deeper, stretching her wide, filling her like she'd never been filled before. "OOH MY GOD!" "That's it," Margaret panted, her own excitement mounting. "Take the cock up your cunt. Fuck that thing, baby, get yourself off. Show the people how these toys really work. Fuck it! Come on. Fuck it!" Margaret slid the huge cock almost all the way out of Sandy's tight sheath then fucked it back into her again and again and again. Sandy, breasts quivering, thighs spread wide and tense, belly heaving, bucked and writhed as the huge cock pumped in and out of her fiery flesh. She was nearly there, nearly at her peak. Margaret slid the dildo out for the last time, leaned her weight over Sandy and pressed her lips hotly over the girl's mouth. Sandy was still writhing, squirming; seeking the ultimate release. The kiss was long and deep, tongues battling tongues, both breathing in pants and gasps. Margaret raised herself and looked down at the incredibly turned on, the passionately gorgeous redhead. She fondled the tight breasts again, fluttered her hand down over her moist, gaping cunt, darted a finger into her, then another and viciously finger fucked her again. "Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what you want!" Sandy groaned, her head rolled lazily from side to side as she raised her hips and mound up to the probing fingers again. "Yes, come on, tell me what you want!" Sandy's eyes half-opened, were glazed and distant. She looked into Margaret's leering face. "Please..." she said. "Oh, please..." "What? What is it, sweetie? What can I do for you?" "Please..." Sandy whimpered breathlessly, rolling her smooth belly. Smiling, Margaret worked her fingers gently and deeply up Sandy's hot, tight cunt, stirring her juices and her lust, stoking the fires ever higher. "Tell me what you want, darling. You can do it. Tell me and I'll give you heaven." "Oh, Mar-Margaret," Sandy whispered, "please... Ooh, make me c-cum. MAKE ME CUM!" Margaret pumped her fingers as Sandy closed her eyes and threw her head back, stretching, poking her breasts to the ceiling, spreading her thighs ever wider. Once again, Margaret removed her fingers from the hot, slick cunt flesh and pressed her weight over Sandra, gluing her lips to the redhead's. Sandy sucked on Margaret's tongue, was dimly aware of hands on the backs of her quivering thighs, big, rough hands raising her legs, bending her knees up to her breasts, raising her arse, spreading her ever wider. She felt the bed dip, a warm presence of warm, hard and hairy flesh brush against her bent thighs. Again a fat, smooth thickness pressed against her hot, moist labia. It skimmed lightly back and forth, up and down her slit; setting off starbursts of sensation in the pit of her stomach each time it nudged her swollen clit. The plump tumescent helmet lodged at the rim of her gaping entrance a second before spreading wide her cunt lips and sliding smoothly, very deeply, into her clasping wet sheath. Sandy moaned, gasped against Margaret's lips and, pinned and helpless as she was, could only give herself up to the surging inrush. She felt her vaginal canal stretching, filling up with the full throbbing length of turgid meat. "Ooh God!" "There you are sweetie," Margaret whispered, her breath hot on Sandy's grimacing face." That's what you've been missing, a nice fat cock fucking you blind. Does it feel good? Does it?" Even as Sandy realized it wasn't Margaret's dildo, that this time it was a warm, living, flesh and blood cock (and that it could only belong to the revolting Paul Stoat!) that was plugging her to the full, she had time only to groan a feeble, ineffective protest before raising her mound against the wicked inward thrust and quivering to an explosive orgasm. "Go on, Paul. I delivered what you wanted now fuck her and fuck her hard," Margaret encouraged, eyes glued to the hot action. She reached a hand into her own knickers, worked her fingers into her swollen, wet cunt. Paul Stoat pounded his throbbing cock into Sandy's tight, slick sheath relentlessly. "Jesus! She's superb," he groaned. "What a fuck! What a fuck!" "Yes! Yes! Give it to her, Paul," Margaret goaded, her hips bucking, fingers wanking herself to a swift thigh-quivering orgasm. "God, I love it! I love it!" "Stop!" Sandy gasped. "Please...I'm a married woman. Stop!" "Shut up, you stupid bitch," Stoat gasped, his long cock plundering the woman's tender, clasping insides, his balls slapping against the curve of her bouncing arse. "You want this as much as I do. Why deny your gorgeous body what it needs? Enjoy, baby. There's plenty more where this came from. Agh! Jesus, that's good! Yes! YE-ES!" Stoat came, pumping hot spurts of thick viscose cum deep into Sandy's pouting sex just as a second orgasm exploded through her writhing frame. She screamed out her involuntary pleasure. "Ooh GOD!" Later, as Margaret smilingly gave Sandy her money, she said, "Paul wants you back here tomorrow, sweetie. A client wants some anal stuff." "No fucking way, Margaret," Sandy snapped, glowering with anger. "You tricked me into cheating on my husband, adultery. There's no way I'm ever coming back here and you can consider our friendship over with. I don't want to see you again." "Not so fast, Sandy. Everything that went down here this afternoon is all on video. Every frame of living color shows you fucking your little heart out and having a real good time. You might want to think about that before you make any firm decision about not coming back." Margaret smiled, a meaningful look in her cruel eyes. "Are you threatening me?" "Not at all," Margaret said, shaking her head. "All I'm saying is Dan could get to see the results of your wonderfully enthusiastic work today. What would happen then, sweetie? Think he'd forgive your indiscretion? Think you'd just kiss and make up and it'd all be forgotten? I don't think so." "You wouldn't show Dan that tape." "Try me." "You bitch!" Sandy's eyes filled with tears of frustration and anger. She was beaten and knew it. "Call me all the names you want, baby, but you will be back here tomorrow for your second session." Margaret turned away and began dressing. After a while, she turned one more time to Sandy and said, "There is one consolation: Because you'll have to work for your money, Paul pays double for anal. Don't worry. It's sounds worse than it is. Once you get used to being reamed in the arse, you'll love it." *** 1

Videll Dais / New Story THE OPPORTUNIST By Videll Dais Sunday morning. Sandy stood at the kitchen sink wading through a pile of washing up, a lot of it left over from last night's dinner party. Occasionally, she would look out of the window and watch her two youngsters playing happily in the inflatable pool on the decking and her husband, Ian, mowing the verdant spread of lawn beyond. She felt a little sorry for him. It was a bright, hot day, and there was a lot of lawn still to mow. However, she'd made a fresh jug of chilled lemonade and placed it on the patio table ready for when they needed it. Behind her, at the kitchen table, neighbour Ron Randle sat drinking coffee and chatting about everyday things. Ron was coming up for sixty, stood around 5' 9 in his socks, was broad shouldered, athletically lean, muscular, and still a handsome guy for his age. He had penetrating blue eyes, thick silver-grey hair and reasonably wrinkle-free perma-tanned skin from, Sandy guessed, working outside in all weathers. He was fit, active, and got on well with most people in the community. Though he didn't talk much about it, he was a widower and lived alone, his wife, Irene, having succumbed to cancer at the early age of forty-five. People often said to him the time for grief was long over and he should find someone else to share his life with but, somehow, Ron never seemed to get around to dating - which was a shame because there were plenty of nice women locally who were interested. Though the age gap was coming up for something like thirty years, Sandy and Ian had become good friends with Ron after he had kindly fixed some fencing for them when they had first moved to the village a year ago. Now he was always popping in for a chat or to do odd jobs for them. Sandy liked the old timer and didn't mind his visits at all even though, now and then, he'd turn up at some really inconvenient times. This morning for instance, embarrassingly, he'd caught her in her old dressing gown and she'd had to quickly go change into a denim skirt and T-shirt. Appearances were important even if she didn't exactly feel on top form. She sensed last night's wine actively buzzing still somewhere in back of her head; not a hangover, but sort of like a mild, pleasant second drunk. Ron was good company, made her laugh a lot, and was excellent with the children who both loved him to bits. She thought he was probably a very lonely man. Her own mother had died young and she felt the pain of that loss still, so she could fully sympathise with his situation. "... I really miss my Irene, Sally," Ron was saying. He didn't often talk about his personal life, but sometimes he'd reveal little titbits, especially when they were alone. "She was a truly a remarkable woman. Nobody could ever take her place." As she did her major chore of the morning, elbows steeped in a sink of hot water, Sandy let her mind wander, not really listening to what Ron was saying until: "Damn it, Sandy. I have to say this. You know, you're a fine looking woman." "Why, thank you for the compliment, Mr. Randle," Sandy replied, light-heartedly. Smiling, she waved to her youngest, Tammy, who was jumping up and down, screaming delightedly in the pool. Tammy waved back with both her gangling arms. Tommy threw a bucket of water at her and Tammy screeched with mock annoyance at her brother, then gave chase determined to get him back. "I mean it," Ron said, his tone serious. "I think Ian's a very lucky guy. You've got the looks, the figure. Everything. Lovely hair. It reminds me of warm honey." Unused to such flattery, Sandy felt herself blushing. "Nice of you to say so," she said. "I like the way you've tied it back like that, too. Suits you. Shows off your pretty face more. You really are a beautiful woman." Sandy smiled at Ron over her shoulder, said half-jokingly, "Are you coming on to me, Ron?" "I'm sorry," Ron said, is voice breaking slightly, full of pent-up emotion. "No offence meant. It's just... Well, it's been a long time since Irene." "Hey," Sandy said, flashing the old timer another smile. "I understand. It's okay. No offence taken." Sandy turned back to the job in hand, swirling soap suds, piling crockery on the drainer. The whine of the lawn mower cut through the morning peace. Ron cleared his throat. "Would... Would you mind if I just touched your leg for a second, Sandy?" "My leg? Why?" "Well, you have such long, shapely legs, such smooth skin," Ron said, leaning closer to where Sandy was standing. He reached out and gently touched the back of her left knee, then brushed his fingers lightly along the inside of her lower thigh, between her knee and the hem of her skirt. Sandy giggled, looked over her shoulder. "Ron! What are you doing? That tickles." Ron continued his caress, his eyes locking with Sandy's. "Please, Sandy" he said, almost pleading, his fingers moving slowly, lingeringly. "I haven't touched a woman's skin in...in years. Just for a minute, that's all. One minute. You feel so good." Blushing furiously, Sandy said nothing and, looking back out the window, continued washing the dishes. She wasn't dreaming. There were the children playing happily, Ian busily mowing. Everything normal. Everything real, except: A man twice her age was actually making a pass at her. What's the harm, she thought, poor old guy's been on his own so long without his wife, without a woman to love and comfort him. He must be frustrated as hell, starved of human contact. So he wants to touch her leg a minute, so what? It was no big deal. Anyway, Ian hadn't paid her any nice compliments or touched her at all in weeks. Not that she blamed him for that. Poor guy was working too hard, always too tired lately. Though she was left needy at times and would like to make love a little more often than they did, she would never dream of cheating or doing anything to jeopardise their otherwise perfectly happy marriage. Hell, everybody has their shortcomings. That was life. Sandy felt Ron's hand slowly moving on the inside of her thigh, not above the hem of her short skirt, not too high, but just the same, it felt like a fire brand on her bare skin. She leaned her hips into the sink suddenly aware her heart was pounding in her ample chest. She glanced down and almost gasped with shock. She wore no bra and her nipples were hard stalks stabbing at the front of her T-shirt. My God, she thought, one simple, innocent touch by an old guy and she was getting turned on. "Lord above, Sandy. You feel so soft, so smooth. Just like a baby." "Thank you, Ron," Sandy said, her voice tremulous, "but I think you'd better stop now." "Yes. Yes, you're right, Sandy. I'm sorry." Ron removed his hand and sat back. "That was probably longer than a minute. Thank you. I'm sorry I got carried away. You didn't mind did you?" "No, it's ok. Don't worry about it. If you want more coffee, Ron, please help yourself." "Thank you, Sandy. I really appreciate it." "Don't mention it," Sandy said, taking a couple of deep, calming gulps of air. Her heart was pounding still and her nipples remained erect. Good job Ron was behind her. She would have been so embarrassed if he could see them like that, aroused, poking so obviously at the front of her T-shirt. She couldn't remember when another man had intimately touched her in such way; certainly nobody since she had met and married Ian over a decade ago. Sandy watched Ian working his way steadily down to the end of their plot. It was a long way, an acre or more, with a small apple orchard and various other fruit trees dotted around; ideal for the children. It was what had attracted them so much to the place. The morning sun was getting high. Ian wouldn't stop until he'd finished the job. He was like that. Hated to leave anything unfinished. Ron interrupted her thoughts. "Sandy, can I ask a really big favour of you?" "What's that?" She asked, her voice slightly distant. "I'll understand if you refuse, but I would really appreciate it if you would grant this one small favour." Sandy frowned, glanced back at Ron over her shoulder. "What is it? You wanna feel my leg again?" "That would be nice," Ron said, smiling affably, "but this is something else." "Ok, out with it." "Well... Promise you won't be offended." "I promise. Now what is this special favour?" "I think you've got a wonderful rear. I was wond - " "What?" Sandy giggled. "You want to touch my bottom now? You are joking aren't you, Ron?" "Actually, I was wondering if you'd let me see it." "You want me to SHOW you my rear?" "Just a peek, Sandy. Just a little look. You have such a great shape. You'd really make this old man's day for him, maybe even his entire year. I don't mean you no harm, honest. Just one peek. Really, that's all." "I-I..." Sandy was speechless and looked away from her neighbour, back out the window. She could feel her cheeks flaming. For a long minute there was only the whine of the lawn mower and the kids screeching with laughter to break the silence. The atmosphere in the kitchen was tense, erotically charged. Both occupants could sense the shift of emphasis from quiet Sunday laziness to highly charged intimacy. Sandy once again felt her heart pick up speed. What the hell was going on here? Eventually, she said, "I don't know about that one, Ron. I don't know if I could do that. I'll have to think about it." "Please, Sandy," Ron said, this time actually pleading. "All I ask is one little look. You've got such a perfect bottom, such a great shape. I just would like so much to see it. If you don't say anything, I won't. No one will know. Our secret. Just you and me. Please." Without looking around at Ron, Sandy said, "You promise you won't touch." Ron swallowed. "I promise." Without really thinking about it, Sandy reached for a tea towel and began drying her hands. "How shall I go about this? You want me to pull up my skirt is that it?" "Could you take it off?" "Take it off!" Sandy sounded incredulous, slightly awed by the suggestion. "What if... Ian should come in? Or the kids?" "They won't." Ron sounded calm, in control. "Keep an eye out the window to make sure. There'll be time to put it back on or nip upstairs. Something. There will be time." "No touching, right?" "No touching. Promise." Slightly giddy, Sandy took a deep breath. She couldn't believe she was actually going to do what she was about to do. My God, she thought, I'm acting like some cheap stripper in a sleazy men's club. Her heart thumped almost painfully against her ribs and blood pulsed loudly in her ears with a strange whooshing noise. Staring dreamily out of the window, her fingers found and fumbled with the button fastening her skirt. The button popped and she slowly slid the zip down. The waistband of her skirt sagged open. The only thing holding the garment in place now was the pressure of her hips and belly pressing against the sink. She waited a long moment then, taking another lung full of air, biting on her bottom lip, eased her hips back and let the skirt drop. "Oh wow, Sandy!" Ron muttered. * * * Oh God. What had she just done? It was all so surreal. Sandy stood frozen, her eyes fixed out the window looking at nothing in particular: Not the children playing in the pool. Nor Ian, her husband, stomping determinedly back and forth with the lawn mower. She was unaware of the bright blue sky, the green of the grass, trees and foliage, the vivid colours of the flowerbeds. Every bit of her mind was fully concentrated, her awareness totally focused, on her situation, on the fact she was standing in her kitchen wearing only brief panties and T-shirt, half naked, in front of her neighbour, Ron Randle. She could practically feel his eyes on her, and was too scared to move, to look back over her shoulder. Her breathing was rapid, her nipples hard and tingling. She felt incredibly warm and moist between her thighs. "You look absolutely stunning, Sandy, the sexiest woman I've seen in many a long year." Ron spoke quietly, sincerely. He was sitting on the bench seat at the pine table ogling the beauty before him. Her legs were long and shapely, her full buttocks nicely rounded, creamy smooth and firm, almost completely bare except for a narrow strip of pink material that barely maintained her decency. When did knickers get so brief? he thought. I can see nearly everything. "Sandy, could you lean forwards a little, stick your bottom out a bit more for me?" "Ron, I... We..." Sandy could hardly speak. She felt so helpless, shocked at her compliance, her inexplicable actions. It was as if Ron was wielding some kind of magic spell that had entrapped her mind and body, completely depriving her of any meaningful thought or action of her own. She found herself actually enjoying the act of exposing herself to this man who was, in real terms, all but a stranger to her. She leaned over and pushed her shapely bottom towards her neighbour's avid gaze. Clearing her throat, swallowing hard, she said, "We'd better... not take t-too long over...this, Ron." "Oh, fantastic. Really fantastic," Ron said, ignoring Sandy's concerns. "With a figure like yours, well, you should be a model, Sandy. I mean it: You're perfect." "Have you seen enough?" Sandy said, already bending lower, reaching to retrieve the garment pooled around her feet. "No, wait. Please...Stay bending like that a moment. It's ok, Sandy. Relax. I only want to look at you. We have time." Ron admired the rounded thrust of her buttocks, leaned in closer and extended a hand. "May I just touch your bottom for a second, Sandy? Just for a second?" "I thought we agreed; No touch...ching." Even as she spoke, Sandy felt Ron's hand gently caress the left cheek of her exposed buttock. She made no attempt to straighten or move away from the touch. "R-Ron...You...you promised." "Sorry, Sandy. You are so beautiful, I can't help myself." Ron edged closer along the bench, moving his hand in ever widening circles, slowly caressing the warm, bare, globes of flesh Sandy so boldly presented to him. "My God...Your skin is like alabaster. Ian must surely be the luckiest guy on the planet. He must spend hours admiring you. Does he make you bend over for him, Sandy?" "Yes - No! Ron...Please- We must stop now," Sandy giggled nervously, her voice weak, strained; her knees trembling somewhat. She craned her neck enough above the rim of the sink to see over the window sill. Through the half-net curtains, out in the big, bright beautiful world, everything was the same still, everything was...normal. "Just a while longer, Sandy. Please. There's plenty of time. You're really making this old man's heart beat again, believe me. I am absolutely enthralled." Ron traced a fingertip delicately down the length of the panty-covered crease dividing the superb globes of her buttocks. Sandy gasped. "Could you tense your muscles a little for me? That's it. Oh yes. That is tight. Let me slap it for you, make it tingle." Ron suddenly slapped a flat palm stingingly down on her left cheek. Sandy yelped. "Ron! What...? What do y-you...t-think you're doing?" "Please - Stay like you are, Sandy. Stay." "I c-can't. You mustn't... Stop it! Stop!" "Irene used to love an ass paddle. She was like you, had a great ass. The best." Sandy felt Ron pressing his other hand in the small of her back and yelped again when he slapped her even harder. "Ooh! Ron...We must stop soon. We'll get caught. I don't... Ow!" Ron continued to slap each quivering buttock harder, spanking each firm cheek until the flesh turned rosy pink and welted with the imprint of his fingers. He squeezed the plump cheeks one at a time savouring tautness and texture, then slapped them again. Left side. Right side. Left side. Right side. Whacking repeatedly! Then an extra hard slap - right in the middle, right on the crack, right where the puckered roseate of her anus was hidden by the thin strip of her knickers. Sandy yelped. "Hold still a while longer, Sandy," Ron said, his voice low, his breathing heavy. "My Irene used to enjoy having her ass tanned. Sunday morning was our time. I used to do her over the kitchen table every Sunday morning. She loved it. Warmed her up nicely for the best stuff that followed." Ron's big hand loudly cracked down on tight flesh again. "Aagh!" Sandy obediently held her position, submitted to the spanking without further protest, gripping the rim of the sink, staring at her family out in the sunny garden through wide, tear-filled eyes, every now and then whimpering like a lost puppy. Her insides were churning, her bottom burned. How on earth did Ron know that spanking turned her on? Was she that obvious? Her labia tingled, felt swollen, dilated and moist. Once, she glanced back at her neighbour and saw that he had released his penis from his shorts. It was sticking up in his lap, long, thick, fat and angry-looking; fully tumescent, fully and hungrily erect... for her! And he was rubbing the thing, masturbating right here in her kitchen! Oh God, and SHE was the cause of his excitement! A little harmless, innocent teasing had suddenly gotten out of hand - or 'in hand' depending on ones viewpoint. Sandy gulped, her mouth suddenly dry, her knees weak and shaky. Pretend you never saw that, she thought. Just pretend it's a weird dream, a figment of her over-stimulated imagination. But, God Almighty, how could she forget? The size of that thing! Impossible. That was - real! Sandy's experience of the male genitalia was limited. She'd assumed Ian's to be the average but, God, without exaggeration, Ron had to be twice the size of her husband both in length and girth. He was big - fucking huge! Biting her bottom lip again, she had abruptly turned her gaze away, focusing her attention on the storm of emotion welling inside her. Jesus, would he rape her? Right here, with her family right outside, just yards away? Even that thought stoked certain sensations in her limbs, sensations that were far from unpleasant. Would he be able to get all that inside her? Sandy let out a short gasp as ripples of pleasure traversed her body. "Sandy," Ron said, huskily, "Please - open your legs a little wider would you?" "No..." Sandy hesitantly muttered, then added, "...touching." and promptly did as she was asked. She seemed to have forgotten her concerns about Ian, about being caught, about time. Time was now standing still, was non-existent. "Please...No touching." "Ok, No touching." Ron agreed. He looked up at Sandy and saw she was keeping her vigil at the window. He let is eyes follow the long curve of her back to the gentle taper of her narrow waist, the flare of her hips. Now, with her legs spread, he could see the bulge of her sex clearly defined beneath the taut swell of her reddened buttocks, neatly cradled by the thin gusset of her pink knickers. Her thighs were trembling. It was obvious she was as aroused as he was. "Oh God!" Ron panted. "You look so gorgeous, Sandy. Excuse me for saying so, but my cock has never been so hard. Not even with Irene." Breathing heavily, Ron stood and confidently ran both his big hands sensuously up the curve of her spine, under her T-shirt almost to her shoulders, then swept them down her sides, along her ribs, and clasped her soft waist. Sandy let out a quiet moan as her whole body momentarily shuddered from head to toe. Through the window Ron, too, could now see the family at work and at play. Poor Ian, he thought, watching the sweating man some way off towards the apple orchard, that looks like damned hot work. "Sandy, did you breastfeed the children?" "N-Nooo..." Sandy said, breathlessly. "I-Ian didn't want me to. Said it...it would spoil their shape." "I'd just like to feel your breasts for a little bit if that's ok?" As he spoke, he pressed his aching groin against her warm buttocks and slid his hands around onto her quivering belly. His penis lay hot and hard directly along the dividing groove of her bottom cheeks, trapped there by his belly. He fingered the dimple of her navel, then slid both hands up her rib cage. "Oh Ron... We must... Ooh!" "Oh, Sandy. Ian was very wise. Your breasts are magnificent." "Ooh, no... Please, Ron. We must stop..." Sandy's voice wavered, then petered out altogether in a swift gasp of breath as Ron cupped both her breasts in his rough hands. He weighed and fondled them lovingly, plucking at the erect stubs of her nipples with thumbs and forefingers, teasing them into even longer, harder points, all the while grinding his penis into the crease of her bottom. "Please... Oh God. This is w-wrong... I never meant f-for things to go this, oh ... far!" "It's ok, Sandy. I understand how you feel. I know it's wrong, but it feels so right. Don't you think so?" Ron breathed into Sandy's ear as he gently squeezed her breasts and tugged on her excited nipples. With no bra to hinder him, he had free play. "Your breasts feel wonderful. So firm and full; lovely long nipples. Totally unspoiled even after two kids. I bet Ian enjoys playing with them. Does he?" "Ron... we...we have to s-stop this... Now!" "Just a few more minutes, Sandy. Please. I only want to feel you. It's been so long for me. You feel so very good. So good. Come on now, be truthful. Does Ian like to play with your breasts like this? Does he suck on these lovely long nipples? God, they are so hard." "Y-Yes, he does..." Sandy whimpered. "He-He says they're my best asset." "Oh, you have many assets, Sandy, many," Ron said, his fingers busily rolling and plucking at the rigid peaks, weighing and fondling the firm flesh, his loins pressing against the deliciously arched buttocks, stoking the fires of lust to ever more heady heights. His penis felt like a solid rod of hot steel nestling in the crease of her trembling buttocks. "Irene and myself used to make love at every opportunity. I don't think we ever missed a day - or night. Tell me, did you make love last night, Sandy? Did Ian play with your luscious breasts like this, suck on these big, hard nipples? " "Ooh - N-Not last night." "When then? When was the last time you let him make love to you?" "It-It was a couple of weeks ago," Sandy said, half-ashamed to admit what now seemed a very embarrassing fact. "A couple of weeks?" Ron sounded aghast. "I don't believe it. My God, how can he neglect you for so long?" "H-He works hard. Get's tired. Then... Then there's the children and... and... We just don't get the chance so often these d-days." "Don't make excuses, Sandy. A beautiful woman like you. Such a fine, firm body, such a great shape. Being neglected like that is nothing short of a crime. You need and, rightly, deserve all the attention you can get. By God, if you were mine..." Ron's voice was no more than a low whisper in her ear. As he spoke, he continually fondled her breasts. "You know what I'd do?" Sandy had gone completely limp, didn't know how her shaking legs were still holding her up. She couldn't answer Ron. She just slowly nodded her head. "I'd make love to you long and hard. Every day. Make you cum over and over. Does Ian make you cum over and over when he makes love to you?" Again, Sandy shook her head. "Well," Ron cupped both her breasts and gently pulled her into his thrusting hips, making sure she could feel his enormous erection against her bottom. "That, young lady, is a sin. Would you like to cum now, Sandy? I could do it for you. I'll only touch you for a little while. Would you like that pleasure right now?" Sandy gazed vacantly out into the garden. She could feel Ron's hands and fingers manipulating her tingling nipples and breasts, his fat, turgid maleness pressing against her bare, fiery bottom. Her whole weakening body was awash with electric sensations, her strength of will almost entirely depleted. She had never wanted another man in her life, had never cheated or even given the act of cheating a passing thought until now. She knew that if Ron, this old man, her neighbour, wanted to take her now, she would be helpless to stop him, absolutely helpless. "Give me an answer Sandy. Would you like me to make you cum right this minute, here and now?" Sandy felt her nipples burning and Ron's enormous organ pressing against her buttocks and couldn't help pressing herself back onto it. She let her head drop between her outstretched arms for a second and let out a long, almost tortured, sigh. Then, as though remembering she should be keeping an eye on events in the garden, she jerked her head back up. "Do what you want," she said, "but please be quick." * * * Ron gave Sandy's breasts one more gentle squeeze, then sat back down on the pine bench behind her. Sandy went to straighten herself up. "No, please Sandy. Just remain as you are. I'm going to remove your panties, ok?" "Oh, please... Hurry. We're going to get caught. Please!" "Just relax little lady. We've got time. Keep an eye out that window and leave the rest to me." Ron placed his hands on her fleshy hips, hooked his fingers in the thin elastic waistband of her one remaining flimsy undergarment and quickly tugged the miniscule material down her long legs. "Raise your left foot. Now the right. Good. Open your legs a bit wider, Sandy." Sandy bit down on her bottom lip and did as Ron asked. For a minute, the whine of the lawnmower, the screeching of the kids, everything faded into an intense, pregnant silence. All she was aware of was the sweat beading her anxious brow and the cool air wafting around her freshly exposed sex. He could see everything now, how open and aroused she was, how wet! Her labia felt swollen and her clit pulsed. It was as if her whole, raw nervous system was concentrated into one tingling, buzzing spot, as if she were about to explode. Her belly and abdomen quivered, her thighs trembled. She didn't believe she'd ever felt as horny as she did now. She was floating over the abyss, a bottomless pit of flame and heat. Oh God, she thought, what is happening to me? What am I doing? Getting straight down to business, Ron leaned forward, cupped each perfect orb of Sandy's bottom in his big hands and, digging his thumbs deep into the dividing crease, squeezed and pulled the cheeks apart exposing the neat crinkled star of her anus and the puffed, clean folds of her aroused labia. He could smell her need, feel the heat emanating from the very core of her womanhood. He dipped his head and began to circle her crinkled anus with the tip of his tongue, an action that made Sandy jump. She tried to clench her bottom without success. Ron held her firmly open to his ministrations, his moist tongue flicking, dipping, probing her sensitive opening, going deeper each time. He slid his right hand between her spread thighs palm up and cupped her sex, gently kneading the baby-soft flesh, his middle finger parting the rubbery lips, seeking the pink, wet interior. He was surprised at the lack of pubic hair. There wasn't any bar a fine sprinkling on her plump mound. Bare pussy. Ron liked it. Sandy felt the probing tongue enter her slackening anus, groaned deep in her throat. This was a totally new, dirty experience for her. Ian had never gone near her anus with tongue or finger. Coupled with Ron's index finger slipping back and forth along and between the lips of her sex, the sensations were exquisite. She pushed her bottom back indicating her need to feel more. Ron forced his tongue ever deeper into her twitching anus. He found the erect little nub of her clit and began to work it in earnest with his fingertip. Sandy made a strange meowing sound and her whole body began to quiver. Ron raised his head slightly, cheeks florid, spittle running down his chin. "You like that young lady? You like Ronnie licking your ass and playing with your clit?" "Ye-es! Oh yes!" "Feels good, huh?" "Mmm." "Come on, push that asshole out, let me get right to it. Yeah, like that." Ron fingered Sandy's clit. As he did so, he put his left-hand index finger in his mouth, sucked on it until it was wet, then gently eased it into Sandy's anus, one knuckle, two, then right in. He wriggled it around then proceeded to slowly finger-fuck her, out to the tip, then in again repeatedly. Sandy wriggled her hips and buttocks, could barely stand as Ron played with every electric spot on her aching, quavering body. This old man knew his stuff and no mistake. Nearly sixty years of experience brought into minute focus on her cunt and ass had her melting. Christ she was a quivering wreck already. She looked through the window and saw her kids playing, her husband, all red and sweating, his skin glistening in the sunlight, marching determinedly back and forth behind the lawn mower. What on earth would happen if any of them should walk in on her now? God, the horror. It didn't bare thinking about. So she didn't. Instead, Sandy gave herself completely to the hot sensations absorbing her body and senses. It just got better. And better. Ron watched with intense interest as Sandy surrendered to her feelings and approached her orgasm. His cock was rock hard, dribbling pre-cum. He was desperate to fuck this gorgeous woman, but didn't want to rush things, didn't want her supreme delight to come to a premature end. He would get there soon enough. He slid two fingers deep into the warm, wet, ribbed interior of her cunt. She was tight. He liked that. He moved his fingers rapidly, churning her juices, stimulating her clit, urging her on to the big moment. He watched as the tight, puckered rim of her anus gripped his finger as he eased it out, then folded around it, embracing it, as it slid back into her clinging passage. He was working hard now, getting her there ever quicker. Sandy cried out, pushed her upper torso away from the sink so her breasts thrust forward. The sensation coursing her veins built to excruciating intensity. It felt, she imagined, like being fucked by two guys at once. The fingers in her cunt and ass were ploughing both her openings with energetic fury. Her juices were leaking, dribbling copiously from her. Her whole body sang with sensation. Still diddling her clit, Ron stood, eased his finger from her anus and immediately replaced it with the fat, helmet of his cock. "Just relax now, little lady. Don't tighten up. Let it in. Let 'ole Ron take you to paradise." "Oh, what...? No...Not there. Please, I...Ooh!" "Never had it in the ass, eh?" Ron chuckled. "Virgin territory. I like that. You will, too. Just relax. Enjoy." He pressed the bulbous, mushroom-shaped head of his penis against the moist, crinkled indention of her anus, gradually increasing the pressure until he felt her sphincter give, then slowly enfold him. Gasping, he pressed home his advantage. Ron groaned. Sandy gagged, felt dizzy. She could do absolutely nothing held as she was in motionless, expectant suspense. Unseeing and slack-jawed, she felt her rectum stretching to accommodate the rude intrusion of Ron's massive organ. He was firm but gentle, giving her a little at a time, letting her get used to each fat inch as it slid home. Sandy was incoherent. "Agh! Ooh no...Oh God! Oh God! Yes...n-no! Oh YES!." She felt the thick girth of Ron's penis filling her painfully slowly. She groaned and moaned as if caught up in the intricate processes of torture or child-birth, but couldn't stop her hips bucking back into the plundering monster now almost fully buried in the depths of her churning bowels. Everything burned and she felt as though she wanted to scream, laugh, cry, and take a shit all at once. Instead, she clenched her teeth, gripped the edge of the sink, and sucked rapid gulps of air in through flared nostrils. "That's it little lady. Take my cock. Let it in all the way." Finally, as Ron touched bottom - literally - his heavy balls nestled against her wet, gaping cunt, and he exhaled a long gasp. "God... that feels so good in there, honey. So good." He held on to Sandy's quivering hips, studied the twin, pale, half-moons of her glorious buttocks and his cock sandwiched tightly deep between them. For a while he didn't move, just soaked his throbbing length in the warm, tight grip of her bowels, and savoured the electric sparks of pleasure rippling to his abdomen and the tops of his strong thighs. Then he began to fuck her. "Agh! Hurry..." Sandy gasped. "It hurts... Do it. Ooo! Please hurry." Gripping Sandy's hips, Ron eased his length out until only the head of his penis was rimmed, then he plunged back into her soft depths. He repeated the motion again in rapid succession. Then again. And again. Sandy yelled meaninglessly, bounced around on his cock like a limbless rag doll, accepting the reaming of her ass like a seasoned trouper. "Mmm...Oh God... Fuck me! Oh Yes! Oh Yes!" Down at the end of the garden, Ian suddenly stopped mowing. He pulled a handkerchief from the back pocket of his shorts and mopped his flushed face. He shielded his eyes from the sun, turned towards the house and waved - just as Sandy was coming her cream. Oh God, he's looking right at me, her thoughts screamed, as Ron pounded into her quivering ass and her guts spasmed. Helpless as a baby throwing up, she smiled stupidly and returned the wave as best she could. "Oh Christ!" Sandy struggled in vain to free herself from the fat spike rampantly pronging her ass. "Ron! Oh, hurry Ron! He can see us. He knows. HURRY!" "There baby... It's coming. It's coming. Fucking it up your tight little ass...Aah... Right...NOW!" Ron plunged his cock home, impaling a wriggling Sandy to the hilt. He reached a hand around to her belly, held her tightly to him and, slipping his long fingers to her mound, vigorously diddled her clit. As she came for the second or third time, he felt her squirming muscles grip the length of his cock and his balls tightened. A moment later, he pumped out wad after wad of cum in thick, hot spurts. "Ooh...Ooh... Aw, Jesus!" The kitchen clock ticked loudly in the ensuing silence. When Sandy had hastily replaced her clothing, she nervously patted her hair and wiped perspiration from her flushed face with a hand towel. Her mind raced. My God, what had they done? Old Ron Randle had actually fucked her! In the ass! She was in shock, couldn't stop shaking, and when she glanced at the clock was amazed to see that their illicit tryst had barely lasted fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes from beginning to end, she thought. She was amazed. God, what you can achieve in fifteen short minutes if you're prepared to take the risks! What sins can be committed! It felt more like fifteen hours. She ached. She had to put it from her mind now. Forget it. It was a mistake. It had never happened. God, Ian would kill her if he found out. She would lose her family, her home, everything! "If you..." Sandy took a breath, tried to compose herself. "If you want more coffee, Ron, please help yourself." "Why, don't mind if I do, Sandy. Thank you." There was another long silence. Sandy leaned over the sink, gazed wistfully out on the garden. "Ron," she said, haltingly. "We... We can never repeat what just happened. Never, understand?" Ron remained quiet for a while, then: "Yep, It's been a heck of a long time," he said, whimsically, relaxed now, casual and calm. He put his elbows on the pine table cradling a fresh cup of coffee in his big hands. "But I miss my Irene more than ever. Is it ok if I drop by tomorrow, Sandy? We'll be more relaxed with Ian at work and the kids in school. It'll be one hundred percent better. I guarantee." Blushing, Sandy finished rinsing the last dish and setting it carefully on the drainer with the rest, replied, "I'll be home about nine-twenty. After the school run." Finito . 1

Celestial Reviews 362 - April 18, 2000 Note: The man has always wanted a big Harley motorcycle. He has shopped around but is not having much luck. Then one day he comes across a beautiful classic Harley with a "For Sale" sign on it. He is amazed to find the bike in mint condition. "This bike is beautiful!" he tells the owner. "I'll take it. But you gotta tell me how you keep it in such good shape." "Well," says the seller, "it's pretty simple. Just make sure that if the bike is outside and it's going to rain, you rub Vaseline on the chrome. It protects it from the rain." The guy buys the bike and goes straight to Walmart, where he buys a tube of Vaseline. He is a happy biker. He takes the bike over to show his girlfriend. She is impressed. Since she always wanted to get fucked by a biker, they have jubilant sex. That night, they decide to ride the bike over to her parents' house. It's the first time he's going to meet them, and he figures the Harley will make a good impression. When they get to the house, the girlfriend grabs her boyfriend's arm. "Honey," she says, "I gotta tell you something about my parents before we go in. When we eat dinner, we don't talk. In fact, the first person who says anything during dinner has to do the dishes." "No problem," he says. Upon entering the house, he is astounded. Right smack in the middle of the living room is a huge stack of dirty dishes. In the family room, another huge stack of dishes. Piled up the stairs, dirty dishes. In fact, everywhere he looks, dirty dishes. They sit down to dinner. Sure enough, no one says a word. As dinner progresses, the boyfriend decides to test the limits. He leans over and kisses his girlfriend. No one says a word. He fondles her breasts. He looks at her parents, but sdinner table. Still, no one says a word. "Her Mom's kinda cute," he thinks. So he grabs his girlfriend's mother and has his way with her right there on the dinner table. Still, total silence. Just then, a few raindrops hit the window, and the boyfriend realizes it's starting to rain. He figures he'd better take care of the Harley, and so without saying a word he stands up and pulls the Vaseline from his pocket. The father stands up and shouts: "All right, all right! I'll do the damned dishes." Second note: The boy takes his girlfriend back home after being out together. They reach the front door. He leans with one hand on the wall and says, "Sweetie, how about a blowjob?" "What?? You're crazy!" "Don't worry, hon, no one'll see!" "Yeah they will! We're on the front door step for crying out loud! Someone will see!" "Not at this time of night, babe, c'mon, no one'll show up!" "No, no, no! I don't want someone to see!" "Baby, you'll love it, too, c'mon, I know you will." "No, no!" "Cmon, love, don't be like that, c'mon." At that moment, the door opens and the younger sister shows up at the door in her nightgown. Her hair's totally in disorder. She's rubbing her eyes. She yawns and says, "Dad told me to tell you for you to blow him, or I've got to blow him, or he's come down and blow him himself; but for God's sake, tell your boyfriend to get his hand off of the intercom button!" Third note: Two Irishmen are sitting in a small town bar One of the gents, Mick bragged to Sean, "You know, I had me every woman in this town, except of course, me mother and me sister." "Well," Sean replied, "between you and me we got 'em all." ===================== Celestial Reviews Index: ===================== "Teaser" by MichaelD (romance) 10, 10, 10 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606426448 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606439393 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606439405 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606439415 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606453722 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606453728 "Teaser" by Al Steiner (risky sex) 9, 10, 10 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=444222183 "Bee Stung" by Old Drone (stung by passion) 9, 9, 9 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=587035079 "More Phone Sex" by Paris Waterman (phone sex) 9, 9, 9 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=551056435 "Just to Relax " by Captain Steve (spouse watching) 10, 8, 9 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=605474794 "Partially Stable Carbamides" by Mark Aster (?) 10, 6, 6 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=609746016 "A Clean Sweep" by Uther Pendragon (erotic sex education) 10, 10, 10 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=610035800 "Romancing Jack" by Souvie (romance) 10, 10, 10 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=608655629 ===================== Guest Reviews: ===================== "Welcome to Miami" by John A (romance). BillyG: 10, 10, 10 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=605105217 "Obedient Girlfriend" by Chew Toy (mind control sex). Myers: {No numerical rating} http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=580046877 "Paint" by Virago Blue (exhibitionism). Watchful Owl: 8, 4, 5.5 http://x27.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=608075403 ===================== Reposted Reviews: ===================== * "Teasers," by Vickie Tern (sexual excerpts) 10, 8, 8 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=246935727 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=246947224 * "Teasers 2" by Vickie Tern (short subjects) 10, 10, 10 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=236002685 * "She's a Tease" by Mike Hunt (exhibitionism & flirting) 10, 10, 10 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=239439625 * "Tease" by Jordan Shelbourne (tease) 10, 10, 10 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=256308836 * "Tease" by Hawk Richards (sexual titillation) 10, 10, 10 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=392685247 * "Composition in Cream and Chocolate" by Mary Anne Mohanraj (sexy striptease) 10, 10, 10 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=167888513 * "Sunday Tease" by Monocle (romantic rough sex) 10, 10, 10 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=510879533 ===================== Here are the Reviews: ===================== "Teaser" by MichaelD ([email protected]). http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606426448 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606439393 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606439405 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606439415 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606453722 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=606453728 This week we have back-to-back stories entitled "Teaser." In addition to these two "Teasers," there have been two other "Teasers" posted by Vickie Tern. I'll repost those reviews. Having made the decision reflected in the preceding sentence, I popped into my database the keyword "tease." "Holy cow!" exclaimed I to myself. "These stories all have high ratings!" Either people who write stories with teasing in the title or as the theme write really good stories, or I'm easily impressed by a good tease. Or possibly both of the above. Anyway, I am going to repost some of the reviews of these "teasing" stories. There are some real beauties here! The word "teaser" has several definitions. The definition used in this story is not even listed in my unabridged dictionary: It's a ranching term. When you're going to breed a mare that's in heat, you can't let the stallion at her right away. You bring in another horse first to see if she's ready to mate. If she is, you take that horse out and bring in the stallion. That first horse is called the "teaser." In this story, we have an obvious teaser and a less obvious, although accidental but possibly more significant, teaser. Read the story and then think it over. The moment of reflection may give you an interesting twist on this story. Overall, this is one of those stories about a couple of people who don't know they are looking a gift horse in the mouth until they decide to change it in the middle of the stream. They go through life ignoring the obvious, and then they have to correct this mistake later in life. Dirty Dawg wrote some great stories with this theme. This one is also excellent. I'll let you discover the twists and turns yourself. The main reason the lovers fail to connect and almost irreversibly screw up their lives is social class. I am a proponent of the belief that inherited wealth is the main source of evil and unhappiness in the world. Getting wealthy without deserving it is just not good for people. Don't get me wrong, if somebody offers to give you a million dollars, take it. But if they give you ten million, tell them to shove it up their ass. That's what my grandma said, and she claimed to be quoting the bible. I used to hate certain authors in my American and English literature classes. I always thought that Henry James was useless, because all he could do was write about insipid rich people. Ditto for William Dean Howells, who (thank God) seems to have faded from the curriculum of most schools. I got along a lot better with Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway, and a lot of the more modern authors. My first great act of rebellion in school was my essay on "Why the Great Gatsby Was Great." I can still remember the line the opening paragraph that got me the F on that paper: "Gatsby wasn't great at all. He was an insipid rich man and a shallow fool. The title is ironic. The author certainly must have known this, and the main impression given by the story is that people like Jay Gatsby are the reflection of a misguided, decadent society that needs to be reformed. If Fitzgerald wasn't writing ironically, then he himself was a fool." I thought I validated my ideas pretty well, but I still got the F. The teacher said I wrote on the wrong topic and that I was wrong anyway, because I had disagreed with what she had told us in class. I kept that paper as proof that not all authority figures deserve respect. I just dug it out and reread it, and I still think I was right. But the teacher did me a good deed. She turned me into the sort of misguided, anti-authority nonconformist who would eventually write reviews for an erotic newsgroup. So the protagonists in the present story are struggling with values that interfere with living a good life. They are as screwed up as Jay Gatsby or Silas Lapham or those fools in the stories by Henry James. Eventually, some of them get their act together, but I can't tell you which ones. I digress. Read this story. It's long, but it's worth the time. Ratings for "Teaser" Athena (plot & character): 10 Venus (technical quality): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Teaser" by Al Steiner ([email protected]). http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=444222183 As you start reading this story, you'll say to yourself (or at least I did), "This is really interesting, but what in the world does it have to do with sex?" I mean, I was a third of the way through the story, and the only four-letter F-word had been Ford (as in Falcon). The only fluid that had become visible was radiator fluid. The only woman in evidence was an overweight mother with kids in tow. Patience.... This story took place back in the days when college kids spent their time taking bong hits, when people went to movies at places called drive-ins, when COBOL was the programming language of choice, and Woody was a Woopecker. In this case the title refers to a "cock-teaser" - a damsel who incites a suitor to blue balls. The sort of person who will stroke a guy's cock at a drive-in movie and get him into the habit of jerking off twice a day. Here's the secret: the housewife, who is married to the narrator's really good friend, likes to take chances. So she teases him and has sex with him in really risky places. I would never do this, because it would be a violation of social etiquette. But it's really pretty sexy to think about. Ratings for "Teaser" Athena (plot & character): 9 Venus (technical quality): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Bee Stung" by Old Drone ([email protected]). http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=587035079 This is a first for me - a story about a man getting stung on his engorged pecker. The result is that it engorges further, and the man has some interesting experiences both with the expanded member and with getting it back to normal size. I really don't know if this story is scientifically or medically accurate. I asked my husband, and he said that the only time he let a bee get inside his clothing, it stung him right away. But this was on the leg, not on his dick. He really didn't like to even think about getting a stinger on his dinger. The most analogous experience in which I have partaken occurred when my husband was overwhelmed one night with desperate passion for me and tried to unzip his pants too quickly. He cut himself slightly but painfully on the zipper. All I know is that he got out of the mood for sex as suddenly as he had gotten into it. But then, maybe this story is what the birds and the bees are all about. But I'd hate to think so. Ratings for "Bee Stung" Athena (plot & character): 9 Venus (technical quality): 9 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9 "More Phone Sex" by Paris Waterman ([email protected]). http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=551056435 This story consists of a "transcript" of two women conversing on the telephone. My main problem was that the two woman got way too hot way too fast: what they were saying too each other just wasn't that immediately orgasmic. Other than that, it was a nice little story - even the part about the dog licking one of the woman to orgasm, while she (the woman, not the dog) brought the other (woman, not dog) to orgasm by telephone. Ratings for "More Phone Sex" Athena (plot & character): 9 Venus (technical quality): 9 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9 "Just to Relax " by Captain Steve ([email protected]). http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=605474794 The man has gone bar-hopping in hopes of getting lucky. He finds a woman "who has never done this sort of thing before." Well then, who is that out on the balcony? Well, maybe she has done this sort of thing before, but her husband likes to watch. That's OK, as long as the sex is good. What an idiot that guy on the balcony has to be. The story ends with a nice twist <wink>. I had a problem with the formatting of the text of this story. I know it is not considered good form to criticize WRITING because it is badly formatted, and sometimes the formatting is not even the author's fault. However, the text of this story was run together with no skipped lines or spaces at the end of paragraphs. This made the story just plain unappetizing to look at. Had the author not asked for a review, I would have skipped it. I'm glad I didn't skip it, because it was a good story. What I am pointing out here is that formatting DOES make a difference, and authors should do what they can to help their readers. There have been many comments in a.s.s.d. to help with formatting problems, and I suggest that authors seek assistance in that forum. Ratings for "Just to Relax " Athena (plot & character): 10 Venus (technical quality): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9 "Partially Stable Carbamides" by Mark Aster ([email protected]). http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=609746016 Mark Aster is an excellent writer. Of that I am certain. However, after reading this story, I have no idea what it was about. I was annoyed by the apparently meaninglessness. In addition, the entries are given in chronological order, starting with the most recent and working backwards. I was struck by the fond notion that maybe the chronology would give me some sort of structure, but no luck. In all fairness, I reacted the same way when I read T.S. Eliott's "Waste Land." I didn't know what that was about either. As with Eliott's poem, I kept running across allusions to people, topics, and ideas that I recognized. There was coherence amidst the chaos. Imagine that. But as far as I could ascertain, all we have here is a bunch of partially stable carbamides. Of course, there was also the student who turned in her five-page poem with the pages in the wrong order, and it made no worse sense in the wrong order than in the correct order. So, maybe you'll like this story. Ratings for "Partially Stable Carbamides" Athena (plot & character): 10 Venus (technical quality): 6 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 6 "A Clean Sweep" by Uther Pendragon () http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=610035800 The young girl is getting close to "doing it" with her boyfriend, and she goes to her aunt for some advice. The aunt teaches her how to use a broom stick to acclimate herself to a condom. This is Uther's entry in his own contest. I have to admit that I have never thought of a broomstick in this way. I thought that's what cucumbers were for. Ratings for "A Clean Sweep" Athena (plot & character): 10 Venus (technical quality): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Romancing Jack" by Souvie ([email protected]). http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=608655629 This is another one of those stories about a person who doesn't know how good she had it until she loses it. But maybe she'll regain it! Trying to explain this story in any detail would ruin it for you. I suggest you find this story and enjoy it. Ratings "Romancing Jack" Athena (plot & character): 10 Venus (technical quality): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 ===================== Guest Reviews: ===================== "Welcome to Miami" by John A ([email protected]). Guest Review by BillyG ([email protected]) http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=605105217 Of the intellectual and emotional attractions that tug at me when I read alt.sex.stories, the strongest are those that say, I know you - you're just like me. To the degree that such identification nudges us, we may be pulled into a story's vortex or simply bumped right back out, the literary equivalent of tissue rejection. It's the nature of many of the so-called erotic tales posted here that they're so superficial and fantasy-based that they glance off, hardly making a mental ripple. I'm delighted to say that "Welcome to Miami" is not of that genre. Mike is a very human guy, a writer who is recovering from a failed marriage and isn't even considering another relationship. He's spending time with his buddies who've come to Miami to see a football game. An attractive stranger in a bar, a spilled drink and before you know it, quite unbidden, Mike meets Kelly. The connection and the energy that develops catches both them by surprise. Kelly's willing to take a chance, though she's grounded sufficiently to protect her heart. Mike is emotionally tossed about by the suddenness and intensity of the sexual squall. Unprepared and uncertain, he does the only thing he knows - retreats. Still, the connection would appear to be more rooted than Mike appreciates and he slowly moves away from the safety of his isolation and becomes willing to take a chance with love once again. The story and the people are very attractive and more, quite believable. I suspect that many of us could be Mike or Kelly in the drama of our own lives. Read it. Do. It's sweet and sexy and achingly poignant. Ratings for "Welcome to Miami Athena (technical quality): 10 (despite a few minor glitches) Venus (plot & character): 10 BillyG (appeal to reviewer):10 "Obedient Girlfriend" by () Guest review by Dave Myers. Now *this* is a funny story. Sometimes it's hard to get humor right in erotica, and a lot of attempts fall flat. This one sticks it. The plot is that the best-friend/hypnotist has to help her pal loosen up her man. He's just not putting on the moves where he should. So she makes up some hypno video tapes. Ordinarily, the process described would seem a little corny, but that's all deflected nicely by the humor, and we can buy it here. Maybe we can buy it in a John Waters sense, at the very least (a high form of compliment coming from me). Things go... umm... wrong, and the result is a pretty cool sexual situation with the three of them. Don't ask me how it works, it just does. Part of it, I guess, is that the main character is made to be believably innocent-- not having a real clue that she is a troublemaker to her core. But mostly, it's the joy of getting to read lines like "Some people smash dishes; some people write nasty letters to their exes; I make evil mind-control hypnosis videos," while at the same time being aware that the story is going to have some twists and turns and group action to boot. {No numerical rating} ""Paint" by Virago Blue ([email protected]). Guest review by Watchful Owl. http://x27.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=608075403 Two lovers. One naked neighbor. And enough paint to cover the walls of a room. Paint. Rated R. Sorry, I slipped into move trailer mode for a second there. <grin> Forgive the silliness, but that one sentence summed up pretty much the entire story. It seems that an extremely sexy young woman lives next door to our heroes, and she likes to swing on her swingset totally naked. The couple (mentioned in the trailer) get aroused by the sight and screw like rabbits. It's an interesting little concept, and well written. However, there is nothing substantial to it. Give it a go if you've got a spare seven and a half minutes. Otherwise, don't bother. Ratings for "Paint" Athena (technical quality): 8 Venus (plot and character): 4 Watchful Owl (appeal to reviewer): 5.5 ===================== Reposted Reviews: ===================== *"Teasers" by Vickie Tern ([email protected]). This is a series of short, unrelated passages that generally have a transgender or femdom theme. Each is provocative enough to make the reader wonder what this is all about and to stimulate the imagination. It's kind of like lying in bed trying to sleep while your spouse channel surfs on a cable system that has only erotic stories. You would hear parts of several consecutive stories. Each segment would put ideas into your head that you could either go with or not, and then you would abruptly move on to another channel. This was an interesting experience. Ratings for "Teasers" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 8 * "Teasers 2" by Vickie Tern([email protected]). I first met Robert Browning under the sterile tutelage of a nun whom I shall refer to as Sister Mary Poetry. I was shocked that semester by the comment of one of my classmates who said that what SMP really needed was to get laid. I met her at a subsequent class reunion and discovered that several years after I graduated, Sister left the convent and did indeed get laid - probably more often and with richer variety than almost anyone we have read about on a.s.s. However, by the time of our reunion, she had a Ph.D. in English, was a Little League mother driving a station wagon, and was happily married to her third husband. Anyway, under her instruction I discovered that Robert Browning was boring as hell, and I could not understand what Elizabeth Barrett saw in him that would make her want to count the ways she loved him. Then in college I had an English prof who read "My Last Duchess" out loud to me correctly, and I discovered that it was a magnificent but concise revelation of the character of the person who was describing his previous wife in that poem. All of this has nothing to do with the present set of "teasers," except that some of them reminded me strongly of Browning's poetry. That is, I thought at first that I was reading a really simple description, and then suddenly I realized I was reading about something a lot different and substantially more shocking than had been my original impression. This author does something similar with this set of "teasers." They vary greatly in quality and in subject matter, but they generally have a narrator telling a story in which a sudden twist occurs that left me with a completely different impression than I thought I was going to get from the story. I like these teasers. I like them so much that I am going to proclaim the Third Annual Celestial Writing Contest. The rules are that the story must in some way be about sex and must be restricted to 500 words or less. In addition, the story should include some sort of unusual twist - like the unexpected self-revelation in "My Last Duchess" or the suprise endings in several of Vickie Tern's or Deirdre's stories. If you wish, you can submit several super-short stories together (as this author has now done on two occasions), or you can post them separately under separate titles. However, I'll give first prize to the best STORY, not to the best collection. The deadline for submissions will be June 3, which my calendar tells me is the date on which the Catholic Church will celebrate the feast of St. Charles Lwanga and his companions. Ratings for "Teasers 2" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "She's a Tease" by Mike Hunt (M1KE [email protected]). The neighbor has bought a new dress for a dinner party, and she wants to try it on for Mike Hunt to see if it is inappropriately sexy. Sure - Mike Hunt is always willing to help a lady in dis-dress. "Wow!" Mike Hunt often resorts to palindromes when aroused. "Wow!" To be sure that she won't come across as too flirtatious with the boss, she has Mike Hunt check from several angles. In my mind I suggested that maybe she should try it without underpants. Not a bad idea - for starters. Mike Hunt also helps her with her conversational skills, like the proper times to say, "Would you like something to nibble on?" - which could be taken the wrong way if the potential recipient of the d'oeuvres were staring down a braless cleavage where the tits were becoming a little bit hardened because of the flirtatious attitude displayed by the owner of the cleavage. Ahem. Hello? Can I have your attention please? It would probably be better to simply say something like, "Grab 'em while they're hot!" In my college speech class we learned about a technique called preterition. This means that the speaker tells her listeners something by telling them that she's not going to tell them what she wants to tell them. A simple example is, "... and I won't even mention the fact that my pussy is soaking wet right now!" This story exemplifies that technique, but we'll call it flirterition - the woman flirts by practicing not flirting. "Grab 'em while they're hot!" Ratings for "She's a Tease" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Tease" by Jordan Shelbourne ([email protected]). Sometimes it's possible to read a lot into a story - even one that's just 500 words long. This story is about using a sexy story to "tease" a man to work harder. It's also about a woman who can "tease" a man by the way she conducts herself while bringing him off with her lips. It's also a "tease" because it leaves us wishing for more. Ratings for "Tease" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Tease" by Hawk Richards ([email protected]). Guest review by The Bear ([email protected]). "Tease," by Hawk Richards, is a good story. It begins with a man and woman on a date at a nice restaurant. The male narrator describes the woman's exquisite features in appreciative detail while they flirt over dinner, and then he takes her home and she invites him in for coffee. Sexual activity ensues, including an arousingly written session of cunnilingus. I'm not going to say anything further about the plot, except that the teasing you expect may not be the teasing that you find. This story gets a 10 on technical quality, meaning not that it was perfect technically but that it was at least as well written as the last thing *I* posted <g> and that minor errors didn't detract at all from the story. I had a harder time with the plot and character rating - the story doesn't have a great deal of plot or character development, but then it is a fairly short and straightforward story and didn't need much. I say it has the right amount of plot and character for the story it tells, and that gets it a 10. I had an even more difficult time with the subjective appeal to reviewer rating. The story as a whole didn't really push any buttons for me, but then there were those nice descriptions of the girl and those hot paragraphs of oral sex ... I finally decided that was worth a 10. Ratings for "Tease" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot and character): 10 Bear (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Composition in Cream and Chocolate" by Mary Anne Mohanraj ([email protected]). I found it difficult to determine exactly what was happening in this story. After reading a paragraph or two I often found myself reaching a point where I gained a new piece of information and had to back up to fit it into the picture that was gradually emerging in my mind's eye. This ambiguity is not a flaw; it's intentional - end it's very well done. The theme is unusual: a male stripper gradually revealing himself and offering his attentions to a female patron. I have never attended such a show myself, and all my vicarious experiences have consisted of films and stories about female strippers. I HAVE gone with my husband to bars with striptease dancers (while we've been away at conventions - so that none of my students will see me entering the establishment and so that I won't accidentally discover one of my coworkers at her night job.) My impression has invariably been one of disappointment; the dancers were simply not very sexy. They seemed to be in worse shape than myself, bored with their jobs, and concerned primarily about squeezing tips out of patrons before putting on a tawdry display that wasn't really sexy at all. Nevertheless, it seems reasonable to FANTASIZE about exotic dancers in terms of wonderment; and this story turns the tables by making a male dancer the center of attention. I guess what we have here is the male stripper equivalent of the ideal lap dance. This was a new and very erotic experience for me. The show starts in near darkness, as does our understanding of what is going on. Even at the end of the story, I wasn't sure exactly what had happened. The sex had been explicit, though conducted by candlelight in a dark room; but questions remained unanswered. All along I had assumed that the woman was a patron - but at the end we hear an audience applauding. And near the very end we have a reference to a pile of cream and chocolate skin; and I am struck with the realization that the woman is brown-skinned and the man is white. OK; the two must BOTH be dancers, and they've been putting on a show for an audience.... That's why it's called "Composition in Cream and Chocolate." Wait a minute! I'm going to have to reread major parts of this erotic narrative - maybe even the whole thing - to see if my new theory fits. Gee, that's too bad. I'm already turned on, and you can never tell what a second reading is going to do to me.... In recent reviews I have railed against what I have called a demeaning use of interracial sex in some of the stories. This story does NOT fall into that category. The skin color is part of the ambiance - music, skin color, facial features, nipples, actions, etc. - that create a sexually charged, poetic atmosphere. This is an excellent story. This author has a whole collection of her stories on the Web at http://mud.bsd.uchicago.edu. Ratings for "Composition in Cream and Chocolate" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Sunday Tease" by Monocle ([email protected]). http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=510879533 The author sent me this a long time ago. I put it at the top of my inbox, but then kept putting more and more things on top of it. I finally dug it back up, and I'm glad I did. The man and his wife have just recently procreated. Whilst the little bundle of joy is sleeping, they go about their daily duties - cleaning up the house and such matters. However, she is dressed to tease him. In the end <g> the little cockteaser gets what she's asking for. I have never had sex with a post partum woman whose breasts are engorged with milk, but I have been present when my husband has done so. This sort of thing can be lots of fun, and the author conveys the festivities effectively. Ratings for "Sunday Tease" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 <end> -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <[email protected]> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderator: <[email protected]> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+

Celestial Reviews 340 July 18, 1999 Note: After a few years of married life, this guy finds that he is unable to perform anymore. He goes to his doctor, and his doctor tries a few things, but nothing works. Finally the doctor says to him, "This is all in your mind," and refers him to a psychiatrist. After a few visits to the shrink, the shrink confesses, " I am at a loss as to how you could possibly be cured." Finally the psychiatrist refers him to a witch doctor. The witch doctor tells him, "I can cure this!" He throws some powder on a flame, and there is a flash with billowing blue smoke........ The witch doctor says "This is powerful healing, but you can only use it once a year! All you have to do is say '123' and it shall rise for as long as you wish!" The guy then asks the witch doctor, "What happens when it's over?" The witch doctor says, "All you have to say is '1234' and it will go down. But be warned it will not work again for a year!" The guy goes home and that night he is ready to surprise his wife with the good news. So he is lying in bed with her and says "123," and suddenly he gets an erection. His wife turns over and says, "What did you say '123' for?" Second note: This British explorer is in the darkest jungle, going where no Western man has gone before. Accompanying him is his trusted guide, interpreter, cook, and trouble-shooter in one. One day early in the morning, they arrive at a lake and find a handsome dark young man engaged in "playful activities" with ten beautiful, dark, young women, who are all naked. The young man had the biggest, strongest penis the British Explorer had ever seen, or even imagined. He was simply awed. He asked his guide who this man was. "He is the prince of the tribe that lives on the other side of the lake, Sir," came the reply. "This is his morning ritual." "Ask him," the awed Brit said to his companion, "how did his penis get to be this size?" The guide goes to the lake and talks to the man, who seems to get very agitated by the conversation. "Well, what did he say?" asked our hero to his assistant on his return. "He said, 'There's nothing wrong with my penis. Doesn't the white man's shrink in cold water?' ===================== Celestial Reviews Index: ===================== Correction: Here are the correct links to Wiseguy's "Intimate Adventures," which I reviewed in CR 339: ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Wiseguy/IntAdv1.txt ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Wiseguy/IntAdv2.txt ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Wiseguy/IntAdv3.txt ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Wiseguy/IntAdv4.txt ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Wiseguy/IntAdv5.txt ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Wiseguy/IntAdv6.txt "Doing It All Over" by Al Steiner (romance) 9.5, 10, 10 Part One http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=480392013 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=480392040 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=480392068 Part Two http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=483967120 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=483967137 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=483967159 Part Three http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=486198813 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=486199791 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=486199820 Part Four http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=491636006 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=491636018 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=491636033 Part Five http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=494313915 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=494315052 Part Six http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=496816813 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=496818310 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=496819309 Part Seven http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=499605833 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=499605846 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=499605884 Part Eight http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=501995270 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=501995286 Part Nine http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=504601225 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=504602634 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=504602653 Part Ten http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=507094045 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=507094064 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=507094080 Part Eleven http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=509706873 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=509709106 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=509709143 Part Twelve http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=512346743 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=512346767 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=512346792 Part Thirteen http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=515385030 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=515385944 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=515385964 Part Fourteen http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=517771276 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=517773206 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=517774273 Part Fifteen http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=520814327 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=520815616 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=520815630 Part Sixteen http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523643322 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523643339 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523643360 Epilogue http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=526769587 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=526769606 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=526770815 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=526770828 "Helicopters" by Mark Aster (natural disaster) 10, 9, 8 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523989551 "Marta in the Doorway" by Mark Aster (quickie) 10, 9, 9 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523991349 "Partners" by Maria Gonzales (slutty cop in love) 10, 6, 6 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523040085 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523040091 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523043865 "Conventions " by Harry Tasker (sex with prostitute) 10, 9, 9 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=519387047 "Fuck Calculus" by TMC ([email protected]) http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=525013781 "Necrophilia" by Sarah Anne Talley (necrophilia) 10, 10, 9 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=505164459 ===================== Guest Reviews: ===================== "Meaner Than a Junkyard Dog" by John A (fooling around). Homer: 10, 8, 7 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=522209161 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=522285823 "The Evil of Hammond House" by Patrick Donovan (scary sex). Maria: 10, 9, 9 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511322388 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511324811 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511324819 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511324831 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511324850 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511324839 "The Board Game" by Jess (wife watching). Nick: 5, 2, 0 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=526131463 "Bangkok Slaver" by Parker (sex slavery). Myers: ===================== Here are the Reviews: ===================== "Doing It All Over" by Al Steiner ([email protected]). {See Links in the Index.} Saturday, September 3, 1984. A day that will live in infamy. The protagonist in this story is a paramedic who was once nice to an elderly Chinese man. This was a wise choice, since the old guy had the magical power to grant wishes. The paramedic wished that he could be fifteen years old again and still know what he knew at 32. And poof! Our hero is zapped back 17 years to the old days complete with an 8-track tape player and a black-and-white television set. Alas! We're into time travel here. Time travel is a complex type of science fiction. For example, if our hero is able to change things, then his daughter Becky might never live. And he knows some bad things will happen to some people he loves. Can he change fate? And even if he can, SHOULD he? This is very deep shit. So Bill's brain stays at age 32, while his body and his surroundings revert to age 15 in 1982 Spokane, Washington. Thus, he is able to remember his masturbation fantasies with classmates and teachers, but he has forgotten his class schedule and most of his algebra. {It's a matter of priorities!} Since he also knows the future of many of his classmates, we get some interesting turns of phrase: "She really was pretty good looking in a future trailer trash sort of way." Oh, and the guy has the urge of a 32-year-old to get into a teenage girl's pants; and it's legal, because he's a teenager too. To bag his first girl, he uses this pick-up line while he is smoking pot with two guys and a girl: "Have you guys ever considered how much religion has fucked up our views on sex?" At first our hero mostly goes about as a sort of hedonistic knight errant, doing good for people who need help reaching sexual fulfillment and getting their priorities in order and wreaking revenge upon assholes who screw up the lives of others. He also corrects some of the mistakes of his previous life. Most notably, he realizes that he was at least partly responsible for the fact that a specific girl grew up to be a bitch-doctor, makes amends, and is rewarded with the love of his life. Bill is a fully developed, complex character. He starts out as a nice guy who misunderstands what has happened to him and therefore comes across as a more selfish person than he really is and who eventually overcomes some major obstacles in his recycled life. That last sentence brings us to the main plot of the story. It's a good one. Since the author tells it better than I can, I'll summarize it no more. The fact that there is a lot to this story besides sex shouldn't suggest that sex scenes are lacking or that they are unerotic. Quite the contrary. At the beginning Billy's motto is always do whatever it takes to insure future copulation. That's a variation of my Blowjob Principle, which he probably picked up from this Newsgroup before his recycling. Later he incorporates that Principle into a more mature outlook on life. Believe it or not, this story had me wondering whether fate is nodal or cascading. And also, if you lived your life over and over again without knowing it, you wouldn't know it, and so how do you know you haven't? If a story can maintain sexual tension while getting me to give serious consideration to questions like these, the author MUST be doing something right. This story is actually worth assigning to kids and requiring them to write book reports about it. It beats the hell out of "The Great Gatsby." "At different times in the story, Tracy and Nina both say that Billy has become an asshole. Why do they say this, and what is your opinion of this evaluation?" That question beats the hell out of "Why was Gatsby great?" Not that I have anything against either Gatsby or any of the other insipid characters who populate Fitzgerald's novel. The story also challenges some simplistic assumptions about hedonism. But it does so in a highly erotic way. This story is not primarily a sex story at all. It's a creative exploration of the sci-fi concept of time travel and how changes a person might make in prior time influence "future" events that are really part of a different "past." A second feature is an analysis of adolescent sex from the perspective of an adult, who is actually able to act upon what he has learned from life's experiences before going through those experiences. A third feature is the personality development of the adult-turned-adolescent as he goes through these life experiences. The fourth feature is the description of the sexual activities, which are quite interesting in their own right. A main theme of this story is its insight into adolescent sex from the perspective of an adult, who is actually able to act upon what he has learned from life's experiences before going through those experiences. For example, an adult would know how much a guy can please a girl simply by being really considerate and making sure she enjoys a sexual encounter before he has his own orgasm. He also knows that he'll be richly rewarded for his courtesy (tit for twat, as the British say). An adult also knows how stupid and counterproductive it is to brag about sexual exploits. And an adult knows the wonderful value of a girl who is rejected by peers because she studies too much or has a lisp and what a treasure that person might be if someone took the trouble to look. An adult knows the importance of inner beauty. In addition, the story includes detailed descriptions of non-sexual events that give the story its depth. For example, the author supplies anecdotes about the life of a paramedic that make us believe that this is a real human being. And the narrator not only wants to get laid during his "recycling," he's also interested in helping his friends avoid the pitfalls that he knows they will encounter in their real lives unless they shape up. Oh, and he's the only teenager that wore a seatbelt, back in those days before engineers applied the Venus Flytrap Principle that causes Killer Seatbelts to encapsulate the driver and all front-seat passengers when the doors close or the ignition starts. The bad part of this story is that it seems to condone the use of marijuana. That's a very bad thing to do. Marijuana leads to cocaine and heroine just as surely as masturbation leads to pulling a train. Or so some people think. On the other hand, the story has specific redeeming value. For example, it explains the value of that Introductory Philosophy course that people take in college: "Im taking it now." Says Tracy. "I like it. They go into a lot of the stuff that I think about when I get stoned." Put that in your college catalog and smoke it! If you are a person who wants to write the best sex story of the year, my advice to you is to write your story next year. This year is already taken. And if Al Steiner can't find a way to make a fortune off this story through normal publication channels, there's something wrong with the porn industry. Al can tell them I said so. By the way, it turns out that the main outcomes of this story depend on whether realignments of Fate are nodal or cascading. Imagine that. And you'll have to read the whole story to find out what happens on September 3, 1984. The story has some irritating grammar problems like misused words and sentences that begin but don't end nothing that a little proofreading wouldn't fix. Ignore them, and read the story. Al concludes his disclaimer to the Epilogue with, "Celeste, you were wrong, I never did write myself into a corner." I'm not sure about that. Keeping in mind that I already have said that this is an outstanding story, let me point out some things that seem problematic to me. I see four shortcomings with this story. First, Bill proposes to Nina without telling her about his "recycling" and even without considering the possibility of telling her. He shares the knowledge with his sister and with his father, but doesn't even consider sharing this information with the love of his life. I'd be pretty pissed (in the American sense) if my lover treated me that way. Unless I missed something, this is a really serious oversight. Second, Bill's meddling in the stock market seems problematic. That is, if he advises someone to buy stocks, that has to have an impact on someone else, perhaps someone for whom the stocks will not be available and who might buy a competitor's stock. This would influence the stock market in ways similar to betting trends influence paramutual betting at racetracks. In addition, people who lose their fortunes (because Bill's clients are gaining fortunes) do unusual things, like taking their kids out of college, beating their kids, committing suicide, or engaging in mass murders. Related to the above is the fact that Bill would probably be accused of insider trading; but after I wrote the preceding clause the FBI showed up in the epilogue and covered the possibility. I think the FBI is the wrong agency: when Bill and Thad show up to check out my assets occasionally, they claim to be representing the SEC's arm of the U.S. Government, but that may just be a bad pun. Of course, there's also the likelihood that a nasty son of a bitch would have Bill murdered or kidnap a member of his family but an author has a right not to go there. Third, I think the author underestimates the pressures that would occur if a person had foreknowledge of cataclysmic events. For example, America's Space Shuttle is going to explode during Bill's recycling, and I think foreknowledge of such events would be psychologically oppressive. Personally, I would have great difficulty flying my Cessna around Puget Sound, knowing that John Denver was going to crash his own plane there shortly. Fourth, I would have liked to see the introduction of additional significant events. For example, Bill presumes that Nina's sour personality in his former life occurred entirely because of the way she had been treated as an adolescent. I would have enjoyed the possibility that maybe some other factor would have contributed to this personality problem a factor that they would have had to deal with together. Now, Al can tell me that he has a perfectly good story without considering any of these four factors, and he may be right. The story had me waiting for each weekend to see the next installment, and it had me shedding tears that were followed by subsequent passionate sex. So the author is obviously doing a lot of things right. But if I were Al, I'd go back and either have Bill discuss his recycling with Nina or at least insert an explanation of why Bill decided against this course of action. It's a really glaring omission, and it doesn't have to stay there. Consider it a suggestion from Mr. Li: you CAN recycle the lives of the people in youre a.s.s. stories. Ratings for "Doing It All Over" Athena (technical quality): 9.5 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Helicopters" by Mark Aster ([email protected]). The author's stories are archived at http://users.aol.com/myfrthal/. http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523989551 Mary and Daniel find themselves together as the apparent sole survivors in a primitive area after a natural disaster probably an earthquake followed by a mudslide that killed the other people they were with. Daniel is about 20 years old and is very scared. Mary is fifteen years his senior and is trying to keep her act together, while they wait for the helicopters that will eventually come to rescue them. What will happen next? Read the story to find out. This story does not have the high-charged sexual atmosphere of the "My Friends the Allens" stories that this author has written in the past. It is a well-written story of a different genre. Ratings for "Helicopters" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 9 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 8 "Marta in the Doorway" by Mark Aster ([email protected]). The author's stories are archived at http://users.aol.com/myfrthal/. http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523991349 The narrator has given Marta a call and asked if he can stay over at her place while he's in town. When he kisses her, she comments that it has been a long time. He thinks to himself that "she doesn't just mean how long it's been since I held her and fucked her, but also how long it's been since anyone did. He continues, "Hey, who's to blame for that, when she radiates enough Attitude to scare away anyone with enough sense to want her in the first place?" That's a pretty good description of the ambience of this story. Well, she doesn't scare everyone away, since they fuck happily. Ratings for "Marta in the Doorway" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 9 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9 "Partners" by Maria Gonzales ([email protected]). http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523040085 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523040091 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=523043865 Officer Felicitas Ramirez is a person of many talents. Officer Frank Williams is her partner. Sometimes it seems that Felicitas really enjoys working the street. Her problem really is that she really does enjoy walking around out there wearing tiny little skirts and having men leer at her. But then Frank falls in love with her, explains to her the difference between true love and sex, and makes tender love to her. It looks like she might get her act together. Some of the sex scenes in this story are good. The problem is that the author tries to integrate a complex personality into a sophisticated plot, but comes up way short. First we have Feli acting naughty as a slut, then naughty but confused as a cop, then getting busted as a slut, then giving a synopsis of her life to her partner, and then falling in love with her partner. The synopsis of the life comes across as an oversimplification, and there is neither a rationale for the changes in her behavior nor many hints regarding why Frank would fall in love with her in the first place. This is the basis for a good story, but it would require a lot more development to reach its potential. Ratings for "Partners" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 6 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 6 "Conventions" by Harry Tasker ([email protected]) http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=519387047 Our protagonist visits a prostitute to relieve his needs. The sex is not very sexy at all, but it's not supposed to be. Why is that? You'll have to read the story to find out. I doubt that it will bring you to a raging orgasm, but this is a good story. Maybe you should read it to cool yourself down between chapters of "Doing It All Over." Ratings for "Conventions" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 9 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9 "Fuck Calculus" by TMC ([email protected]) http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=525013781 This is the only story that has ever brought together Zeno and Isaac Newton in a short sex story. It's worth reading, although it will take you twice as long to find it as it will to read it. However, I think I'll refrain from rating this one. No Ratings for "Fuck Calculus" "Necrophilia" by Sarah Anne Talley ([email protected]) http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=505164459 Our narrator is a computer geek who has become almost comatose from a raging hardon that arose while he has been surfing x-rated sites for several hours. So he jerks off while thinking about Christine the Beautiful and Bountiful Cheerleader. Besides being a computer geek, he has a part-time job at the local mortuary. On the graveyard shift, so to speak. So finally he works up his nerve to ask Christine out on a date, and she brushes him off as some sort of common nuisance. Alas, before they can be reconciled, Christine dies of a massive stroke while performing at the high school football game. Since what he lusts after is Christine's body, there must be some way he can bring fulfillment out of the chaos in his life, some way to join his vocation and his avocation. Can you guess what will happen. For a hint see the story's title. Never having made love to a dead body, I don't know exactly how this would work. I imagine it would be hard <g>. This reminds me of an interesting story, which is possibly apocryphal. It seems that Mr. Johnson, the town butcher, died while he had a raging hardon. When rigor mortis set in, the hardon stayed. The body was brought to the funeral home, and Mort the mortician was assigned to prepare the body for burial. When he saw Mr. Johnson's Big Johnson still standing at attention, he was struck with admiration and thought, "Damn! My wife will never believe this!" So he sliced the member off and put it in one of those jewelry display boxes and brought it home to his wife. As he walked through the door, he handed the box to his wife and said, "You'll never believe what's inside this box!" His wife opened the box and immediately became hysterical, screaming, "Omigod! Johnson the butcher is dead!" Ratings for "Necrophilia" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9 ===================== Guest Reviews: ===================== "Meaner Than a Junkyard Dog" by John A (<[email protected]). Guest reviewed by Homer Vargas [email protected]. http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=522209161 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=522285823 Superlatively bad Leroy Brown is an entrepreneur in the Chicago gaming industry. Leroy has an SO, Monique, of whom he is fond, but not fond enough to perform cunnilingus, concerning which he entertains some strange sociological prejudices. Alas, Leroy is tempted sometimes to stray from fair Moniques arms. Well, Monique is really "cocoa colored," but you get the idea. After a night of lucrative gaming transactions Leroy takes a fancy to a young lady in the drinking establishment where the wagering is taking place. Unfortunately and post coitally, she turns out to be the romantic liaison of a business rival who looks askance on Leroys having been intimate with his lady friend. A disagreement ensues and the rival bests Leroy in an altercation that requires him to seek medical attention. Reflecting on this turn of events, Leroy decides to ask the hand of fair Monique in matrimony. I found a serious mismatch between the story being told and the language used, though not as bad as the parody above. On the positive side, you can learn something about how craps is played (or at least John fooled me.) OTOH we never do find out if Leroy wises up about eating Moniques pussy. Perhaps if you are familiar with the song "Bad Bad Leroy Brown" you may find the story more appealing. Athena 10 Venus 8 Homer 7 "The Evil of Hammond House" by Patrick Donovan ([email protected]). Guest review by Maria Gonzales. http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511322388 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511324811 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511324819 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511324831 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511324850 http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=511324839 I have to confess, I am having trouble writing this review. The problem is how to review it. Is it a horror story with sex? Or is it a sexy story with horror? I guess it doesn't really matter, because the story handles both genres nicely. Without giving too much of the original plot away, a group of students have a little accident, and they have to spend some time at mad doctor's residence. Doesn't sound original, does it? But there are some nice twists involved along the way, and I found myself at times feeling sorry for the bad guy, even after he offed a few of the students. Horror movies are like Disney movies, the stronger the villain, the better the movie. The villain in this story is well rounded and scary, his motives are well explained and he makes the story worth reading. Am I leaving anything out? Oh yeah, the sex. Sorry, I forgot this was the Celestial Reviews, and some people want to hear about all of the fucking and sucking going on. There is quite a bit of sex in the story, some of it even integral to the plot. It is well written and I could see the characters in my head doing what was being described, not an easy thing to do for even the best erotica writer. I recommend this story, but take a little off because it is a little predictable at times. My ratings for this story are: Athena: 10 Venus: 9 Maria: 9 "The Board Game" by Jess (e-mail not supplied). Guest review by Nick (e-mail [email protected]). http://www.deja.com/getdoc.xp?AN=526131463 This is a first time story. It is about how the author's wife has sex with lots of different people. It runs to about 10,000 words and there is really not much else to say about it except that I found it boring. I'm sorry to do this to a first time writer but I cannot even offer advice as to how it might be improved. Ratings for "The Board Game": Athena (technical skills) 5 Venus (plot/character) 2 Appeal 0 "Bangkok Slaver" by Parker. Guest review by Dave Myers. When I saw that the author was Parker, I knew that this story would be pretty much politically incorrect through and through. As you might expect, the plot, flow, and grit of the story were very polished, and the themes explored were disturbing, even for this well-heeled reader. Welcome to the nightclub circuit of Bangkok, where the girls that everyone really wants to see do the nastiest things, and have no choice about the matter. It's a pretty standard setting for a porn story, but the narration unfolds with an eerily uneasy nostalgic tone from a man who is caught in the middle of the action. Punctuated by nightmares, our narrator has to come to grips with how he fits in with the situation. It is clear that this is very difficult. As things go on, some intrigue is revealed and there is a bit of a scrape involving law enforcement. However, this is all really backdrop to the psychological story being told. There isn't a whole lot of sex going on that is detailed in any kind of "typical" style. What we do get is more gut wrenching, and more real than just about any story I've ever seen that was set in a slavery motif. But don't worry, you'll keep reading just to see how it ends. What I liked most is that the author is at the same time very self conscious and also not afraid to be evocative. This is used to advantage, and Parker can get away with phrases like "I felt like a character in a B movie with lines like that." In the end, the story pulls it all off nicely, and leaves questions unanswered that will keep us thinking for a little while. How many "sex" stories have you read like that?. My only quibble, and it's a small one, is that there was a little too much pidgin English used in some of the scenes. Sure - this is "in character", and sure - this fits with the un-PC image of the story, but I found myself less absorbed after a point, trying to step over the mock-oriental speech pattern that was being projected. <end>

Celestial Reviews 303 - Sept 5, 1998 Note: Someone sent me this review of of Microsoft's latest venture to share with you: Microsoft Corporation has taken another step toward dominating every aspect of American life with the introduction of Contraceptive98, a suite of applications designed for users who engage in sex. Microsoft has been a pioneer in peer-to-peer connectivity and plug and play. It believes these technologies will give it substantial leverage in penetrating the copulation enhancement market. The product addresses two important user concerns: the need for virus protection and the need for a firewall to ensure the non-propagation of human beings. The Contraceptive98 suite consists of three products: Condom98, DeFetus 1.0 (from Sementec), and AIDScan 2.1(from Norton Utilities). A free copy of Intercourse Explorer 4.0 is bundled in the package. The suite also comes in two expanded versions.Contraceptive98 Professional is the Client/Server edition, for professionals in the sexual services sector. Contraceptive98 Small Business Edition is a package for startups, aimed at the housewife and gigolo niches. While Contraceptive98 does not address nontraditional copulatory channels, future plug-ins are planned for next year. OPERATION: Only one node in a peer-to-peer connection needs to install the package. At installation, the Condom98 software checks for minimum hardware. If the user meets the requirements, the product installs and is sufficiently scaleable to meet most requirements. After installation, operation commences. One caution is that the user must have sufficient RAM to complete the session. When the session is complete, a disconnect is initiated, and the user gets the message, it is now safe to turn off your partner. DRAWBACKS: Usability testers report that frequent failures were a major concern during beta testing. General Protection Fault was the most serious error encountered. Early versions had numerous bugs, but most of these have been eliminated. The product needs to be installed each time it's used. CONCLUSION: Contraceptive98 is a robust product. Despite its drawbacks, it is reasonably good value for its $49.95 price tag, and is far superior to its shareware version. Hopefully, future releases (of the software, that is) will add missing functionality, such as Backout and Restore, uninterruptible Power Supply, and Onboard Camera. Microsoft CEO Bill Gates stated optimistically: "Our contraceptive products will help users do to each other what we've been doing to our customers for years." Second note: Bill worked in a pickle factory. He had been employed there for a number of years when he came home one day and confessed to his wife that he had a terrible compulsion. He had an urge to stick his penis into the pickle slicer. His wife suggested that he should see a sex therapist to talk about this problem, but Bill indicated that he'd be too embarrassed. He vowed to overcome the compulsion on his own. One day a few weeks later, Bill came home absolutely ashen. His wife could see at once that something was seriously wrong. "What's wrong, Bill?" she asked. "Do you remember that I told you how I had this tremendous urge to put my penis into the pickle slicer?" "Oh, Bill, you didn't." "Yes, I did." "My God, Bill, what happened?" "I got fired." "No, Bill. I mean, what happened with the pickle slicer?" "Oh...she got fired too." Third note: I'd like to express my gratitude to Apuleius of Madaura for reposting so many of the "lost" stories. I have tried to repost as many of the reviews as possible. Final note: Remember: even though someone else may be posting my reviews for me, my e-mail address is still [email protected]. - Celeste ===================== Celestial Reviews: ===================== "Turkish Delight Act IV" by Sista Shakespeare (exotic sex) 9, 9, 9 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373877139&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13272.txt "Tommy Fucks Meg's Brains Out" by Lostgirl (humor) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=386846259&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14853.txt "A Rare Gem" by bernadette (romance) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=386873567&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14911.txt "Crossing the Tsangpo" by Gordie D (brief encounter) 9, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=385730460&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14746.txt "Best Friends" by Mikeybear (first time) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=385759765&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14813.txt "One Thing Leads to Another" by Irishlass (romantic poem) 8, 7, 7 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=385875064&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14822.txt "Just a Scratch" by Vickie Morgan (quickie on an auto hood) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=375735330&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13447.txt "Love and/or Lust" by Jefferson James (poem) No Rating http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=383104832&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14566.txt ===================== Guest Reviews: ===================== "Vicarious" by Anne Arbor (voyeurism). Dragon: 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=375504014&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13449.txt "Six-Month Turnaround" by Bill Morgan (non-sex romance). Vance: 8, 3, 3 #1 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14573.txt #2 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14574.txt #3 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14575.txt #4 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14691.txt #5 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14693.txt #6 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14735.txt #7 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14759.txt #8 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14773.txt #9 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14790.txt #10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14791.txt #11 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14882.txt #12 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14881.txt #13 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14883.txt #14 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14884.txt #15 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14885.txt #16 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14886.txt "Lunch Date" by JB (pussy shaving). Owl: 10, 10, 10 "Travelin' Man" by JennTill (bdsm). Owl: 5, 5, 6 ===================== Reposted Reviews: ===================== * "The Island" by Losgud (adult incest). Bookman: 9, 8, 9 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=386880158&fmt=raw http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=386880166&fmt=raw * "Long Ago and Far Away" by Sven the Elder (forbidden romance) 10, 8, 8 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=286199842&fmt=raw * "Lydia" by Brother Cadfael (caring romance). DG: 10, 7, 7 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=387074930&fmt=raw * "Imagine My Surprise" by Morgan Preece (office romance) 10, 8, 8 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=387074960&fmt=raw * "Citation" by Unknown Author (pleasurable police bondage) Piper: 8, 9.5, 9 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=386864377&fmt=raw * "Reunion" by Steve Black (romance) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=362039311&fmt=raw * "Not Really Cheating" by Dave Schulte (mutual masturbation) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=385724135&fmt=raw * "My So-Called Sex Life" by David Kelly (emerging sexuality) 10, 10, 10 * "Rain" by Crimson Dragon (ff bondage) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=331473326&fmt=raw * "Love Fuck" by Pussy Barber (voyeurism & threesome) 9.5, 9, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=382436508&fmt=raw * "To See Or Not To See" by J.B. Mast (public & private sex) Dart: 8, 8, 9 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=329807483&fmt=raw ======================== On this day in Celestial History Celestial Reviews 115 - September 7, 1996 ======================== "Remembering" by Michael K. Smith (incest) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=237573549&fmt=raw "CBS Evening News" by Uncle Mike (television parody) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=178066141&fmt=raw ======================== "Turkish Delight Act IV" by Sista Shakespeare (sista_shakespeare@my- dejanews.com). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373877139&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13272.txt James and the Jinne have been bathing outdoors in an exotic environment. They go inside and make passionate oral and anal love. To tell you the details would be counterproductive: your enjoyment lies in listening in your mind to the author's descriptions. This story relies completely on its exotic atmosphere to elicit erotic emotions in the reader. It was good but not excellent for me; but that's a matter of preference. If you like sex in exotic places, this may be the story for you. Ratings for "Turkish Delight Act IV" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 9 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9 "Tommy Fucks Meg's Brains Out" by Lostgirl ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=386846259&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14853.txt This story deals with the problem of what might happen when we take our metaphors literally. {The related problem of misusing the word "literally" is discussed in the CELESTIAL VOCABULARY DEVELOPMENT section at the end of this issue.} Tommy has fucked Meg's brains out. That might sound like fun, but Tommy has LITERALLY fucked Meg's brains out. She used to be an intelligent, renowned doctor; but now she's as stupid and horny as a seventh grade detention hall. Actually, Tommy hasn't fucked ALL of Meg's brains out; she still has she her cerebellum and probably her hippocampus, and a few adjacent parts that control more basic functions. The erstwhile Dr. Kruger still can experience anger, fear, and sexual urges; it's just that she can no longer execute more involved cognitive tasks. And she's actually quite affectionate and sexy in that little backless hospital gown. And I finally got to use "erstwhile" correctly in one of my reviews. The following may be one of the best or possibly worst similes ever written in a.s.s.: "Defeat mocked him like those forty-five minutes in the Small World ride watching three Peruvian dolls going up and down, singing that damn song in Spanish over and over." This is an excellent story. Somehow this review calls for a cherry popsicle. Ratings for "Tommy Fucks Meg's Brains Out" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "A Rare Gem" by Bernadette ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=386873567&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14911.txt This story doesn't belong in a.s.s. It belongs in the popular press where anyone who wants to do so can find it and read it. Jewel has fallen in love with a man who is emotionally attached to someone else. They have made tender love, and now they have to decide what course their relationship will take. Jewel is an artist who has been heavily influenced by her loving grandmother, who was a deeply religious person. These factors weigh heavily in the way the story turns out. The sex is sensual and erotic, but not pornographic. If people's religious or philosophical values proscribe reading stories like this, they should get a more sensible set of values. I'm not going to tell you how the story turns out. I'll just say that it is extremely well written and sensitive an excellent story. Ratings for "A Rare Gem" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Crossing the Tsangpo" by Gordie D ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=385730460&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14746.txt This is a story about a man traveling in a foreign country who has a brief romantic encounter with a woman who doesn't even speak his language. Although the sentence structure and syntax are sometimes a bit awkward, the story's simple style serves it well. We get the impression of an extraordinary event described in extremely ordinary terms, which is exactly what the author seems to have wanted. Ratings for "Crossing the Tsangpo" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Best Friends" by Mikeybear ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=385759765&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14813.txt The plot is a familiar one: the boy and girl grow up as best friends, but with no sexual interest in each other. Then at age 14 they discover each other. The tale of how these two best friends share their reciprocal "first times" is very well told. This is an excellent story. Ratings for "Best Friends" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "One Thing Leads to Another" by Irishlass ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=385875064&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14822.txt The title has a double meaning: one event leads to another in the brief story being narrated, and the line ending one stanza leads to the next by using the same words at the beginning of one stanza that ended the last. It's an interesting technique, but the author doesn't quite bring it off as well as I would have liked. On the other hand, reactions to poems are extremely individualistic, and so you may really like this one. Ratings for "One Thing Leads to Another" Athena (technical quality): 8 Venus (plot & character): 7 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 7 "Just a Scratch" by Vickie Morgan ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=375735330&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13447.txt The woman leaves her boyfriend with his boss at a dinner meeting. She goes to the parking garage and finds a beautiful expensive car there the kind you often see on a calendar with a skimpily-clad model sprawled over its hood. What the hell, thinks she; and she sprawls. A man clearing his voice catches her attention, and before you know it she is trying to think of a way to compensate him for the scratch that seems to have appeared on the hood right where she was cavorting. You can well imagine how she pays. The surprises come after the compensation. This was another extremely enjoyable story. Ratings for "Just a Scratch" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Love and/or Lust" by Jefferson James ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=383104832&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14566.txt I am going to resist my urge to assign a rating to this poem. I'll just say that it consists of a series of rapidly rhyming couplets by an author who has a track record of good stories. People's reactions will vary widely. If you like poetry, take a look at this one. You can read its 60 lines in less time than it will take you to download it. (No rating) "Vicarious" by Anne Arbor ([email protected]). Guest review by Crimson Dragon. http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=375504014&fmt=raw --- http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13449.txt I've never read anything by Anne Arbor before, but I have to admit that I quite enjoyed this short story. The story is basically a voyeuristic/ exhibitionistic competition of two university friends told from the perspective of Anne, a current girlfriend to one of the friends. Despite the short venue, Anne managed to get a reasonable level of plot as well as character into all the people in the story. There is a small twist that I should have seen coming, but I didn't, so I won't reveal too much more than that. The characters were fully described, and the small details made the story for me. The story is fast paced and hooks you pretty quick. The erotic aspects were also strong and well described for this type of story. At least, I thought they were. I didn't notice any glaring English errors, though I stumbled over the word 'commingled'. I looked it up, and Anne was right again. This story is well written from a technical standpoint. Remember that I'm still new to this reviewing stuff, but I'd recommend reading this story. Ratings for "Vicarious" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Crimson (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Six-Month Turnaround" by Bill Morgan ([email protected]). Guest review by Vance ([email protected]). #1 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14573.txt #2 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14574.txt #3 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14575.txt #4 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14691.txt #5 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14693.txt #6 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14735.txt #7 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14759.txt #8 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14773.txt #9 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14790.txt #10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14791.txt #11 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14882.txt #12 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14881.txt #13 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14883.txt #14 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14884.txt #15 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14885.txt #16 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14886.txt Most of the stories on this newsgroup are romances -- in two different senses. First, of course, they're stories about love, at least in some of its manifestations. But also, like medieval romances of knights in armor, or hard-boiled novels of lonely detectives, they're stories that engage us by showing characters doing things that, at least in our dreams, we would like to do ourselves. "Six-Month Turnaround" is no exception: it's a love story, and also a fantasy of a more exciting life. What's unusual for a.s.s.m is that the fantasy isn't about sex, but business. We're used to impressively endowed characters who do everything right in the pursuit of great sex, and are richly rewarded. Here we get wealthy, clever, and honest young people, who shake up a moribund company, do everything right to make it profitable, and live happily ever after. As Morgan warns in his head note, there is fairly little sex; but there is a love story. The male lead is Cliff, the manly Howard Roark figure who steers the company to success; the female lead is Sandra, his assistant at first, whom he soon promotes to treasurer and bedmate. Gradually we learn that she is not only smart and beautiful, but a compelling natural leader -- and even the owner of the company! But despite these advantages, she was evidently unable to act to change the company, until Our Hero came along to lead her. I don't remember seeing *quite* this variant of the female-submissive fantasy on a.s.s.m before. (And if you think this theme is incidental, read the last two paragraphs.) The authors of our sex stories usually do some preaching, mostly implicit, about the right way to live, not limited to matters of sexual technique. (This is probably inevitable in a romance. Even Friar Dave, one of our best, does rather more of this than I need.) It's not surprising, then, that this story preaches quite a bit, implicitly and explicitly, about business. There's a lot about detailed methods, with numbers; I'm no businessman, but it seems to me that Morgan gives his characters too many easy victories in this regard -- for example, a change in accounting practices that instantly yields millions in free money. More seriously, there's a strong dose of business ideology, particularly the belief that what's best for the corporation is what's best for everybody. If this is not the sort of fantasy that turns you on (and the scenes in which the workers are shown to accept this, even as they lose their jobs, are not exactly compelling), this story is probably not for you. Still and all, it's a fairly well-sustained long narrative (at least until the preposterous incidents start piling up toward the end), and I give it an Athena of 8. Venus and appeal to reviewer are both low but nonzero -- let's say 3. If your fantasies, though, happen to run to reduced operating expenses instead of hot throbbing flesh, your mileage will certainly vary. Ratings for "Six-Month Turnaround" Athena (technical quality): 8 Venus (plot & character): 3 Vance (appeal to reviewer): 3 "Lunch Date" by JB ([email protected]). Guest review by Watchful Owl. As I came to the end of "Lunch Date", I felt a silly grin half-slipping across my features. This is a good read, entirely focused on a woman who decides to shave her vagina for her husband's sake. The author does an excellent job of what he's trying to do. The plot is not deep, and it doesn't have to be. No names are given; they don't have to be. This is a "charcoal sketch" of a story: no detail is given except to the focus, yet beautiful in its simplicity. Ratings for "Lunch Date" Venus (Plot and character) 10 Athena (Technical Quality) 10 Watchful Owl (Appeal to reviewer) 10 "Travelin' Man" by JennTill ([email protected]). Guest review by Watchful Owl. This story, perhaps, has the right idea, but isn't able to pull it off. Neil is a happily married traveling salesman staying in a hotel. When he goes down to the bar, he meets two women, and... well, it's alt.sex.stories. What do you think? Bondage isn't my particular kink anyway, and "Traveling Salesman" does a sub- mediocre job with it. The sleazy atmosphere does nothing for me, and there are numerous spelling and grammar errors strewn all throughout the piece (although I have seen much, much worse). The plot is fairly passe', and the characters have no depth at all (other than Neil, who is as well-developed as can be expected in such a story.) Bottom line: Don't bother reading this. It doesn't achieve spectacular badness, but it's really not worth your time. Note: What do I mean by "spectacular badness?" One story (I wish I had saved it, in retrospect) wins the "Watchful Owl's Spectacular Badness Award". It was a cheerleader lesbian story. What follows is an accurate (NOT exaggerated) outline and example paragraph. One cheerleader goes to another's house. They start arguing with each other, which turns to violence, until they tear each other's clothes off and have sex. Here's a sample (typos are intentional): ... by now i was REALY mad, so I reched over and grabbed her bra. "you bitch!" she yelled, and slapped me, and i tore her bra off! ... It was so bad I winced. Repeatedly. If anyone has a copy of this story, please post it to ASS so that I can see it :) Ratings for "Traveling Salesman" Athena (Technical quality): 5 Venus (Plot and character): 5 Watchful Owl (Appeal to reviewer): 6 * "The Island" by losgud ([email protected]). Guest review by Bookman. http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=386880158&fmt=raw http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=386880166&fmt=raw Coming off the rubble of "The Amazing Adventures of Penis Boy", I found this story to be like a high hard dose in an oxygen bar. Clean, clear, and fresh. Actually, the two stories shouldn't even be mentioned together, for "Island" is a very good story. The narrator is a 40-ish man who goes out to an isolated family cabin to prepare for the rest of the family's arrival for an upcoming holiday. Looking forward to some time alone, he is mildly chagrined when his married daughter decides to come along. Then daughter comes along. . . "Island" stands above the usual Daddy Does Daughter crowd of incest stories in several respects. One, the parties are of an age where, even though they are related, they can choose for themselves; and two, these people genuinely like and respect each other. At no time is there even a hint that either party is taking undue or unfair advantage of the other, so that the relationship is free of a taint that many other writers doing incest stories would like to ignore but can't quite get away from. Losgud gives his protagonist a laconic, amusing voice and attitude that makes him a character I, for one, would like to know in person. The daughter is less well visualized, which leaves the reader unfortunately stuck solely in the narrator's head. We never really see the forces that move her to her (what must be life-changing) decision. She offers a vague "this-is-something- I've-always-wanted-to-do" kind of reasoning, which I found unsatisfying, given the rich reality woven for the character of the father. The humorous voice of the narrator, one of the central features in the construction of the story, is also disturbing, on a basic level. Losgud's words drawl across the page, making the father a likable person in his own right, but they have the counter effect of diluting the sex when it finally arrives. There's no way an author (go ahead, prove me wrong, folks) can maintain that kind of self-mocking attitude going through an intense sex scene. {Actually, take a look at Mike Hunt or Friar Dave- Celeste.} Either the very single-minded concentration demanded to make the sex hot will obviate the self-mockery, or the sense of humor will make the intensity of the sex scene seem hollow and silly. Losgud tries to go for hot-and-heavy, but doesn't achieve it, and the final result is a haphazard warm-and-romantic. The story maintains its integrity as a whole, but one senses the lack of a commitment to the act, and the changed relationship implied by the act, that would have brought the entire incident into sharper focus. The story is posted in two parts, and the reader is left with the vague feeling that there's a Part 3 lurking out there somewhere. These two people have started changes in their lives that will ripple out in unseeable directions. Losgud's ending only hints at what those directions might be. Technically, very good. I only found one typo, which means the more obsessive of you are now free to go perusing through the story to find what it was. Ratings for "Island" Athena: 9 Venus: 8 Apollo: 9 * "Long Ago and Far Away" by Sven the Elder ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=286199842&fmt=raw This story is a retrospective about Sven's experiences before he was the Elder - long ago and far away, when he was a white European romancing the black African daughter of the local chieftain. The chieftain wasn't all that thrilled about the relationship; and so he had ordered the relationship to end. This is the story of the couple's last romantic tryst. It's an interesting story with good sex, but my impression is that this is a lot clearer and more interesting in the mind of the author than it will be to the minds of people who do not share that same initial perspective. Ratings for "Long Ago and Far Away" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 8 * "Lydia" by Brother Cadfael ([email protected]). Guest review by DG. http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=387074930&fmt=raw This is a very short story which reads like a middle chapter in a multipart story, or like a single episode of a soap opera. I browsed around to see if I could find more parts to the story, and I discovered that Brother Cadfael tends to post very short snippets rather than fully developed stories, so I am assuming it was written to stand alone. The narrator has a friend named Lydia, with whom he wishes he had a romantic relationship. When Lydia's boyfriend hits her, she moves in with the narrator, and he discovers that she has romantic feelings for him also; but they decide to hold off on having sex. That's about it - no background on the characters, no sex to speak of. Although "Lydia" is well-written and the author seems to have a talent for storytelling, I can't really give high marks to something that doesn't seem to be complete. I'd like to read something by this author that is more fully developed. Ratings for "Lydia" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 7 (both are there but underdeveloped) DG (appeal to reviewer): 7 "Imagine My Surprise" by Morgan Preece ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=387074960&fmt=raw The boss attends the office Christmas party and meets an employee he didn't know he had. She's only 18 (to his 55), but he's immediately attracted to her. The only thing wrong with this story is that it's not complete. Right now it's just flirtation leading up to what I expect to be hot sex. If it lives up to my expectations, when it's finished this will be a good one. Ratings for "Imagine My Surprise" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 8 * "Citation" by Unknown Author. Guest review by Piper. http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=386864377&fmt=raw I think the premise of this story falls under the heading of "don't try this at home". Any guy who flashes a female police officer in the expectation of receiving the same kind of treatment John gets from Officer Edwards deserves his just reward - booking, conviction, a police record as a sexual deviant, fine, probation, and possible jail time. Lucky for John, Kate Edwards isn't a normal cop, and she has a really well- developed sense of humor. She gives him a chance to get out of the "public exposure" charge (or whatever it's called in your neck of the woods). In her own words, "Until six tomorrow morning, you are going to be my slave. If you do everything, EVERYTHING I tell you to do, and don't complain about anything...I'll be happy and you'll be free. Fail to comply just once, or complain the slightest bit...and I book you as a pervert. Deal?" At this point, John is naked and secured both hand and foot to an empty bunk in an empty basement cell in an old, abandoned police building. He agrees. This story involves handcuffs, zap straps, whipped cream, a string of pleasure balls, a small vibrator, an abandoned but still functional police building, and a banana. Officer Edwards just happened to have all of the above (except the building) in a bag in her patrol car (I wonder just what kind of "emergency" these things could be used for). Being the curious deviant I am, and having no personal experience in this area, I asked my two friends about the practicality of using a peeled banana. After the laughter died down and they quit smirking at each other, I got the following advice: "Yeah, you can use a peeled banana. It's better if you leave the skin on, though," said one. "As long as you cut the rough bit off the end," said the other (they spoke in turns, frequently interrupting one another). "Peeled, they're kinda fragile, so you gotta be real careful. Bear down too much, and you got banana puree." "That's messy. But it's fun cleaning up." (More laughs and knowing glances passed between them.) So now I know that bananas, peeled or not, are usable phallic substitutes. The story gained a little credibility, although it still remained well out in the realm of fantasy. Technically, this story has some problems. Most of them, I believe, are due to the ravages of time. The story has been around for a long time. It's been through the mill, bouncing around from BBS to archive, from system to system, from editor to word processor, and has suffered the odd wound. While I did find one or two spelling errors, most of the problems come from small bits of missing prose. Something, somewhere, pruned a few words here, the end of a sentence there, and the odd descriptive in between. This is a pretty good story. It doesn't quite fit into the femdom category because Officer Edwards doesn't abuse, mistreat, or humiliate her captive. She merely teases him into having the best sex of his entire life. The descriptions are hot. The sex is hotter. The ending is a foregone conclusion about a quarter of the way through. An enjoyable fantasy for anyone who's had lustful thoughts about our women in blue. Ratings for "Citation" Technical merit 8 Plot & character 9.5 Appeal to reviewer 9 * "Reunion" by Steve Black ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=362039311&fmt=raw When I reviewed the first story by this author I complimented him for trying to blend the emotional with the rational, but I chided him for going too far to the rational side. This author is a fast learner: this story is an excellent blend of the two components. I'm not going to describe the story in detail. Briefly, it's about a man and woman who used to be lovers but drifted apart and who become reunited at the end of this story. Some readers will dislike it because in the first two-thirds of the story there is no sex at all in it. Sometimes lengthy monologues about "how I screwed up our relationship" are really boring, but the author effectively uses lines from "their song" to break the potential monotony. Incidentally, I don't mean this as criticism of this particular story, but in real life when there's a problem with a romantic relationship and people seem to be drifting apart, there's at least one good solution besides having an affair or dissolving the relationship. It's called counseling. If you find that reading a.s.s. stories and even my reviews doesn't help you get your life in order, go to the phone book and look in the yellow pages In the Sulfur Springs Yellow Pages, you would look under either "Mental Health Services" or "Marriage, Family, Child & Individual Counselors." I don't know why it's not even cross-referenced under "C" for "Counselors.". It has always angered me that it's so much easier to find a car dealer or dentist than a counselor. It's not an admission of failure to seek help. On a less serious note, this story raises the question: When two people are alone in a house and no one else even has a key, why do they close the bedroom door when they make love? This was an excellent, romantic story. Ratings for "Reunion" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Not Really Cheating" by Dave Schulte. http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=385724135&fmt=raw A man and a woman work together. Both of their spouses are too busy to satisfy them sexually; yet each wants to remain faithful and monogamous. They become aware of their mutual attraction to each other. They decide that since infidelity involves actual sex, it wouldn't really be cheating if they simply masturbated together; and so they do so. It's an interesting idea, and the story is well written. Incidentally, in my own opinion, this *is* really cheating. In other words, I would consider myself to be unfaithful to my husband if I needed a sexual fix and got it by masturbating with a friend when my husband was too busy to satisfy me. Infidelity involves the violation of a relationship, and what the story describes is at least the beginning of the violation of a relationship. No real moral lesson here - just a commentary on the title. It was still an enjoyable story. By the way, in my morally acute mind, reading stories on a.s.s. and fantasizing about them does *not* constitute a violation of a relationship, even if Tammy Ng does write cynical letters to the reviewer Now you know why I read twenty of these stories a week! I had better talk to my husband. Ratings for "Not Really Cheating" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "My So-Called Sex Life" by David Kelly. http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=331473326&fmt=raw I have watched "My So Called Life" on television just a few times. It must conflict with something else I do. It was a good show, and my kids watch it regularly. My impression is that the television show deals with emerging adolescence in a quasi-humorous fashion; and this set of stories is going to attempt to give a similar treatment to emerging sexuality. So far this series is pretty good. The first story starts out with the young heroine going to her parents' bedroom to ask permission to go out. When no one responds to her knock, she opens the door and sees her mom giving her dad head, while a porn flick runs on the television screen. "At least they weren't using handcuffs," she smiles, as she runs out of the house. "What's that on Daddy's face?" asks her little sister. So the author had my attention. Episode 1 is mostly about an all-girl threesome, with Angela contemplating taking the plunge with Jordan Catalano, the young man who is the "object of her desires and thirty four separate masturbation fantasies." The dialog is natural and sexy: "I gave Jordan a hand job. It was... nice." Angela said. "Nice?" Rayanne said, "you make it sound like a Hallmark card or something!" In the second episode Angela and Jordan do the deed. It was indeed nice. I look forward to more of these thoroughly enjoyable episodes. I may even watch the original show more often. Although lightheartedness pervades both episodes, there are some serious insights. For example, after the all-girl mini-orgy, there's this passage: "What does this mean?" Angela wondered. "It's not like I am attracted to women, but it was, um, good. What if I do it too much and become no longer attracted to guys? Time to re-think this." This is an important thought. Teenagers should be open to the idea that same-sex activities (and fantasies) are likely to be really enjoyable; and they should be able to think about this option without either (a) being filled with disgust over not being "normal" or (b) committing themselves to a lifelong designation as gay or lesbian. Life is more complicated than that. To be perfectly honest, I'd prefer that my own 15-year-old daughter discover that she enjoys *fantasizing* about doing it with other girls as much as she enjoys *fantasizing* about doing it with boys. I'm not going to disown my children if I find out they've been having sex; but I really do like the idea of letting them grow up before they become active participants. I myself graduated as a popular, heterosexual student athlete who happened to be a virgin; and I am absolutely certain that my virginity was not a personality flaw that impeded my future sex life. So who's going to read these stories - the under-18-year-olds who comprise the protagonists or the older generation who are theoretically allowed to read this stuff on a.s.s.? I suppose the Christian Coalition would object - and I am not going to leave these stories on the coffee table for my children; but I would not really be upset to know that my children were reading stories like this. The teenage movies and TV shows are filled with innuendo; these episodes just make explicit what is implicit in those stories. My kids have already heard my lecture about how real-life differs from the movies. (For those who are interested, here are the three big differences: (1) People have to fall in love and jump into the sack really quickly in the movies, because more realistic and desirable timelines are impractical in a two-hour movie or half-hour TV episode. (2) Indians really would not be so dumb as to ride around in circles, and some of the bullets would hit horses. (3) At least occasionally the Indians would rape the women (and men) whom they captured.) So even though I encourage people to follow the laws of their state or nation, I'm not going to be upset if consenting adolescents occasionally see these stories. The other major audience for these stories consists of "old" people (over age 18), who can remember what it was like to be a teenager. Even though I graduated from high school without ever doing anything like the activities described in this story, I can identify with them. Doing these things would be fun. Even the Christian Coalition people would have fun doing these things. They'd go to hell, maybe; but they'd have fun. And that's what fiction is for - vicariously doing things that for some reason (in this case, a good reason, if eternal damnation were really a possible consequence) you would otherwise never experience. All right - so that's not the only reason for fiction; but it's one good reason anyway. Ratings for "My So-Called Sex Life" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Rain" by Crimson Dragon ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=331473326&fmt=raw Kat has to have a talk with Leanne. She doesn't want to do it. She really doesn't. But she has to. I won't tell you what Kat is so nervous to discuss with Leanne, but I will mention that after the conversation Leanne handcuffs Kat to a large oak tree near their cabin and makes love to her in the rain. It's really pretty sexy! I felt that the author over-used the technique of employing sentence fragments to denote disjointed thoughts. Like this. Especially when the fragments are not parallel. To give the impression of disjointed thinking. Perhaps. It's a legitimate approach, and the author does it better than I did in the previous "sentences"; but I just think maybe the author should be a little more selective in the use of this method. Ratings for "Rain" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Love Fuck" by Pussy Barber . http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=382436508&fmt=raw This story is posted as a sort of ad for the Klub Kelli Erotic Stories Mailing List, which can be reached at the address cited here or at its website: http://www.klubkelli.com/erotica. Kristen's boyfriend has unexpectedly canceled, and so she is the third member of a party spending a few days at a rustic retreat. First she gets really turned on watching Janet and Jerry make exciting love on two occasions. Next she finds out that Jerry would really like to do it with her, and then she finds herself making love to Janet in the shower. Soon the three are banging away together. This is really hot stuff. Ratings for "Love Fuck" Athena (technical quality): 9.5 Venus (plot & character): 9 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "To See Or Not To See" by J.B. Mast ([email protected]). Guest review by Dart. http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=329807483&fmt=raw Adam and his wife Julie are having dinner out, celebrating his promotion to Vice President at Arrow Electronics. It's been ten years since Adam started his career at Arrow, and they had celebrated that beginning at the same restaurant, and with the same menu selection that they have ordered this evening. Julie planned the evening that way; she remembers such things, but she doesn't think Adam does. He surprises her by remembering that evening, by remembering that they're at the same restaurant and have ordered the same dishes. But he also remembers how they excited each other during dinner. That portion of their previous celebration wasn't part of Julie's plan for this evening--she had a different, more exotic, sexual agenda planned--but Adam is very encouraging and Julie's a supportive spouse. What follows is a pretty steamy scene of public sex, and then, in the ladies' room, of private sex. Back at their table, Julie's so washed out that she's not sure she has the energy for Adam's planned "dessert." But when Adam learns what it is .... Well, Julie's a very supportive wife. I really liked this story, but I do have some complaints. I think the dialogue is a tad too formal for the scene the story describes. I also think, though this is certainly arguable, that given the way Adam and Julie's encounter unfolded at the restaurant table, the wrong person was on their knees in the ladies' room. There were also minor typo and editing problems. Adam was once referred to as "Michael." In the paragraph: He took a bite of bread and then forked some salad while I watched. She had her eyes locked onto his, smiling at him as she unbuttoned her crisp white shirt top with her long slim fingers. the "I" should be "she," unless it's kinkier than I believe. With a very little assistance from one of Celeste's marvelous proofreaders, this good story could have been even better. Ratings for "To See Or Not To See" Athena (technical quality): 8 Venus (plot & character): 8 Dart (appeal to reviewer): 9 "Remembering " by Michael K. Smith ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=237573549&fmt=raw Please believe me when I tell you that I wrote the "Comment on Authors' Rights" that appears at the end of this issue BEFORE I read this story. In that Comment I describe a story entitled "Raped Teen Burglar" by an author named TEX, in which that author offers a reality check: maybe raping a teenage burglar wouldn't be so much fun after all. In this story Michael K. Smith suggests (to me at least) a similar reality check: maybe incest isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Don't run away! Neither the story nor this review will be a moral lecture. In the story a woman describes to a psychiatrist her sexual experiences with her brother, who first raped her when she was thirteen and he was eighteen years old. The brother did most of the things to her that happen in other incest stories; but although she became a "willing" participant for the next four years, her reaction is different from that of the "victim" in most incest stories. I do NOT think that a person is necessarily a pervert if he or she enjoys reading (or even writing) incest stories in which everyone enjoys the "family fun." I am even willing to imagine that the world may be full of boys and girls (and subsequently, adults) who have been subtly coerced into having sex with a parent, sibling, or relative, and who have maintained their normal emotional stability and have gone on to become valedictorians, CEOs, PTA presidents, and other all-around well-adjusted people. I just don't know any of them. However, I HAVE worked with high-risk (dropout-prone) adolescent girls, and it's astonishing how many of them have been involved in what we call incestuous relationships. Again, I don't have a major problem with fantasies; but I think we should be a little careful even there. If I at my 40-plus age see my sexy brother, think back to my childhood, and fantasize about how neat it would have been to do sexually intimate things with him, I see no problem with this fantasy. On the other hand, if I find myself fantasizing about how cute my daughter looks and thinking that maybe it would be fun to "initiate her into the joys of womanhood," I should consider the possibility that I may have a problem. Even this fantasy would quite likely be harmless - as long as I am a person that can keep my fantasies separate from my real life; but not everyone can do that. Unfortunately, it's the person who can't keep them separate who is least likely to wonder whether he or she has a problem. I think we readers and writers on this newsgroup should be aware that sometimes our stories may indeed CAUSE PROBLEMS for some readers. It's naive to deny this. People who fantasize about chocolate cake are more likely to eat chocolate cake; kids who fantasize about playing basketball are more likely to play basketball; why should maladaptive sexual practices be any different? This doesn't mean that we should ban advertisements of chocolate cake, abolish basketball on television, or suppress the publication of provocative stories; it merely means that we should acknowledge that there could be a problem. One "solution" is to provide children and adults with accurate, sensible information - probably as a part of a wholesome relationship between parents and children. Another solution is to help children (and adults) learn to deal adaptively with their fantasies. Another solution is to post and read stories like this one that offer an occasional reality check. Ironically, of course, this story would be banned from the school in which I teach. If I tried to discuss it in class, I would be fired. My mother used to have a friend who was a religious fanatic. She used to lug with her a shopping bag in which she carried religious tracts on various topics. She would "accidentally" leave her pamphlets in buses, in restaurants, in bars, and in other places, so that naive finders would get religion. Maybe I'll try that with this story. Ratings for "Remembering" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "CBS Evening News" by Uncle Mike ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=178066141&fmt=raw Dan Rather had initially been miffed at having Connie Chung assigned as his co-anchor; but of late he has begun to enjoy the visual pleasantries of having a hot chick to look at during breaks in the evening news. Imagine his surprise when Connie confides in him that she and Maury are having trouble getting pregnant. Imagine his further surprise when she asks Dan to be the sperm donor - right there on her couch! This is a hot an sexy story. I'll have to switch from NBC to CBS for my evening news. The Bad News is that Max Wojtylak recently announced that he is almost out of these parodies. As you may know, Max himself did not write these stories; his Uncle Mike did, and Max simply found the stories when he was cleaning up the hard drive or something like that. My advice to Max is to get Norton Utilities and run the Unerase program; maybe there are another ten or so stories buried there. If that doesn't work, try a seance. I really like these stories; and oddly enough, Uncle Mike seems to write better the longer he's been dead. Imagine that! Ratings for "CBS Evening News" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 CELESSTIAL VOCABULARY DEVELOPMENT: LITERALLY. The word "literally" does not mean "emphatically." Nor does it mean "figuratively"; in fact it means the opposite of figuratively. It means "according to the exact meaning of the word(s)." Therefore, don't use the word unless you want people to accept as true exactly what you are saying. My sister is literally a whore. {This means she really does compensation for engaging in sexual activities.} She literally wore me out with her sexual antics. {This is plausible. This means the speaker was truly exhausted after the activity.} He literally fucked my brains out. {This is improbable, unless gray matter appeared externally during the fuckation.} She literally fucked him to death. {This is possible, but only if sexual activity led to the gentleman's demise.} Her breasts were literally the size of basketballs. {This can be empirically verified by checking with Spaulding.} She literally ate me out. {This might actually be a clever thing to say if she bedecked his cock with chocolate syrup or other comestibles prior to oral stimulation.} That guy is literally one big motherfucker. {This is true only if he actually does indulge with his mama. Otherwise, say "certainly." "Fuck you!" she said. "I hope you mean that literally," he replied. I know of one sportscaster who uses the word literally thousands of times a year, and almost always incorrectly. The word "literally" was used incorrectly in the preceding sentence. Unless he really uses the word incorrectly at least a couple of thousand times a year, I should have said "he seems to use the word incorrectly thousands of times a year" - or I could have simply settled for some other expression, such as "very often" or "almost as often as the pope shits in the woods." <end>

Celestial Reviews 297 - July 29, 1998 Note: A hurricane came unexpectedly. The ship went down and was lost. The man found himself swept up on the shore of an island with no other people, no supplies, nothing. Only bananas and coconuts. Used to 5-star hotels, this guy had no idea what to do; so for the next four months he ate bananas, drank coconut juice, and longed for his old life, while he fixed his gaze on the sea, hoping to spot a rescue ship. One day, as he was lying on the beach, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It was a rowboat, and in it was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, rowing directly toward him. In disbelief, he shouted to her: "Where did you come from? How did you get here?" As she brought her boat onto the shore, the woman replied, "I rowed from the other side of the island." Her nipples pressed against her shirt as she added, "I landed here when my cruise ship sank." "Amazing," he said. "I didn't know anyone else had survived. How many are there? You were lucky to have a rowboat wash up with you." "It's only me," she said, "and the rowboat didn't wash up; nothing did." He was confused. "Then how did you get the rowboat?" "Oh, simple," replied the woman. "I made the rowboat out of materials that I found on the island. The oars were whittled from gum tree branches. I wove the bottom from palm branches and the sides and stern came from a eucalyptus tree." "B-B-But that's impossible," stuttered the man. "You had no tools or hardware. How did you manage?" "Oh, that was no problem," replied the woman. "On the other side of the island there is a very unusual stratum of exposed alluvial rock. I found that if I fired it to a certain temperature in my kiln, it melted into forgeable ductile iron. I used that for tools, and used the tools to make the hardware. "But enough of that," she said. "Where do you live?" Sheepishly, the man confessed that he had been sleeping on the beach the whole time. "Well, let's row over to my place, then," she said. After a few minutes of rowing she docked the boat at a small wharf. As the man looked to the shore he nearly fell out of the boat. Before him was a stone walk leading to an exquisite bungalow painted in blue and white. While the woman tied up the rowboat with an expertly woven hemp rope, the man could only stare ahead, dumbstruck. As they walked into the house, she said casually, "It's not much, but I call it home. Sit down, please; would you like a drink?" "No, no thank you," he said, still dazed. "I can't take any more coconut juice." "It's not coconut juice," the woman replied. "I have a still. How about a Pina Colada?" Trying to hide his amazement, the man accepted, and they sat down on her couch to talk. After they had exchanged their stories, the woman announced, "I'm going to slip into something comfortable. Would you like to take a shower and shave? There is a razor upstairs in the cabinet in the bathroom." No longer questioning anything, the man went into the bathroom. There in the cabinet was a razor made from a bone handle. Two shells honed to a hollow ground edge were fastened onto its end inside a swivel mechanism. "This woman is amazing," he mused. "What next?" When he returned, she greeted him wearing nothing but vines - strategically positioned - and smelling faintly of gardenias. She beckoned for him to sit down next to her. "Tell me," she began, suggestively, slithering closer to him, "We've been out here for a very long time. You've been lonely. There's something I'm sure you really feel like doing right now, something you've been longing for all these months. You know..." She stared into his eyes. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You mean--?" he replied, "I can check my e-mail from here?" Second note: I get swamped with questions regarding "how can I find a story you reviewed" and "how do I get my stories reviewed?" With Bitbard's help I now post links to almost all the stories I review. If those don't help you, I suggest www.dejanews.com and the archives at http://www.asstr.ml.org/mainframe.html and http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/windex.html. If you want to maximize the chances of getting a story reviewed, send me a copy by email when you post it. I try very hard to review only stories that are posted to the newsgroup - stories that anyone else can find if my review inspires them to look them up. In addition, I feel I have the right to review absolutely any story that is posted on a.s.s. or a.s.s.m. I'll normally honor a request to skip over a story; but I often go through the posted stories and look for offerings by new authors. My reviews of these stories help readers know where to look for reading that suits their tastes. Third note: Top Ten Things Men SHOULDN'T Say Out Loud in Victoria's Secret: 10. Does this come in children's sizes? 9. No thanks. Just sniffing. 8. I'll be in the fitting room going blind. 7. Mom will love this. 6. Oh, the size won't matter. She's inflatable. 5. No need to wrap it up. I'll eat it here. 4. Will you model this for me? 3. The Miracle what? This is better than world peace! 2. 45 bucks?? You're just gonna end up NAKED anyway!! And the NUMBER ONE thing that a man should never say out loud in Victoria's Secret: 1. Oh Honey, you'll never squeeze your fat ass into that. Fourth note: I've had a couple of reviewers retire recently. If anyone would like to apply for their jobs, please contact me. Final note: Remember: even though someone else may be posting my reviews for me, my e-mail address is still [email protected]. - Celeste ===================== Celestial Reviews: ===================== "Cloth Doll" by Mat Twassel (airport incident) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13083.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371795900 "Confessions" by John Galt (mild bdsm) 10, 8, 7 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13332.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374582610 "Remembering When" by Anne Arbor (emerging sexuality) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13330.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374582605 "Makeover" by Vickie Tern (transgender) 10, 8, 8 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12854.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12855.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=369322580 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=369322588 "The Beginning Of a Life" by LeAnna (counseling session) 10, 8, 8 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13397.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=375043480 "Joint Therapy" by Sarlife (counseling session) 8, 6, 6 http://www.qz.to/erotica/asmm/Year98/13331.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374582609 "Passing the Test" by Rock Hancock (sex-slave training) 8, 6, 4 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12684.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=368291063 "Hot Tub" by Mr. J (exhibitionism) 7, 5, 5 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=375811840 "Nightmare" by Mark Aster (mild bdsm) 10, 9, 9 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13386.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374919921 "Grabbing the Brass Ring" by Unknown Author (dysfunctional sex) 8, 4, 3 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374733562 ===================== Guest Reviews: ===================== "Biochemistry" by J.R.D. (transgender). Myers: 6.5 -- Prequel -- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059459 01 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059492 02 -- Biochemistry I -- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059444 -- Biochemistry 2-- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059407 01 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059418 02 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059434 03 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059476 04 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373606467 05 "The Shed" by The Big T (voyeurism). Nick: 9, 10, 9 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12423.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=365167370 "Thank You" by Emil (sexual gratitude). LeAnna: 6, 2, 2 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12787.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=369322287 "Crazy Tomas" By Hawk Richards (slice of sex life). Dragon: 9,8,8 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13196.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373254359 "The Girl from the Village" by Paris Waterman (filthy sex). Poison: 10, 8, 8 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373286386 01 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373286394 02 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373286397 03 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373286405 04 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373280504 05 "A Slavegirl of Rome" by Bad Badbad (Roman sex). Gandmar : 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13321.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374274047 "A Dip in the Lake" by Trisnics (sex on the beach). Dart: 4, 4, 4 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12558.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=366844430 ===================== Reposted Reviews: ===================== * "Camara, Lady of the Sword" by Tom Bombadil (heroic fantasy) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4180.txt 01 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4309.txt 02 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4384.txt 03 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4533.txt 04 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4749.txt 05 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4930.txt 06 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/5107.txt 07 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/5264.txt 08 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/5539.txt 09 * "Inger" by Friar Dave (romance & emerging adolescence) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=292720368 01 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=293046376 02 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=293565808 03 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=294776224 04 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=294761113 05 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=294729804 06 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=294734507 07 * "Homeward Bound" by Dafney Dewitt (sexual revenge) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=185795756 * "Feet Are Neat" by Mike Hunt (shoe store sex) 10, 10, 10 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=239515599 ================== <<The Reviews>> ================== "Cloth Doll" by Mat Twassel ([email protected]). http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13083.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371795900 This is not a sexually explicit story. The closest this story comes to full frontal nudity is the passage that is in the book that the two leading adult characters are coincidentally both reading. The woman spends some time kissing the bare ass of a doll whose name is probably not Ditty; but if that gives you a hard-on, you should see a therapist. This is just a good, morally uplifting story about a slice of life in an airport. It won't influence your sex life directly; but indirectly this story will make you better in the sack the next time you go there with someone you love. Lots of good stories can have that effect. Ratings for "Cloth Doll" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Confessions" by John Galt ([email protected]). http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13332.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374582610 About six months ago I wrote a story within my review of DG's "The Call of Desire." In that story I waxed eloquent about how I made love to my husband while I was talking to another woman on the phone. I invited other authors to pick up the story, and several of you did so. This is a delayed response to my invitation. In this story I {the fictional Celeste, that is} confess to my husband that Rose had stayed on the phone line and had been giving me instructions while I gave my husband a blowjob and then let him take me in the ass. My husband responds {in the present story} with some mild bdsm. It's pretty sexy stuff, and I suspect that those of you who get high on bdsm will enjoy it even more than I did. However, since this story involves my fictional persona, I can't help personalizing it a little and responding as I would in real life. If I confessed something problematic to my husband, he damned well had better either (1) forgive me, (2) see a counselor with me, (3) be kidding when he "punishes" me, or (4) some combination of the above. I really don't get high at all on the infliction of pain, even if it's "only" a spanking. If he wants to "punish" me by making me do something that more prudish people would consider to be dirty - in other words, punish me by giving me pleasure - I'd feel comfortable with that. But possibly because of my work with people who have been abused, I would have a hard time liking a person who thought it necessary to hurt me, and I'd have a hard time making love with a person I didn't like. This is still a good story. But the author forced me to personalize it, and that personalization affects the ratings. Ratings for "Confessions" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 7 "Remembering When" by Anne Arbor ([email protected]). http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13330.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374582605 I don't know what possesses lovers to demand that their partners tell them about their "first time." I think we deserve a little privacy in our memories. And maybe our original lover deserves some privacy and respect too. This isn't a biggie to me. The no-pain rule in the previous review and no- fantasizing-about-close-friends-whose-lives-we-may-complicate-while-we-screw- up-our-own rules are much more important. I just think comparisons to other people - even implicit comparisons - can be unpleasant. They can come back and haunt you ten months later, when somebody decides to say something unpleasant and digs up dirt from the past. Anyway, in this story Anne describes her gradual escalation with her boyfriend through the final stages of heavy petting and into intercourse. It's very sexy stuff. Ratings for "Remembering When" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 7 "Makeover" by Vickie Tern ([email protected]). http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12854.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12855.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=369322580 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=369322588 The man in this story married his wife without her knowing he was a crossdresser. That used to bother her, but suddenly she has embraced his lifestyle. Why the sudden change? Let's be accurate here. This man is not gay. He says at the beginning of the story that it is when he is dressed as a female that he is most ardently devoted to women. Uh-oh - 1445 words into the story we discover that his wife has not only agreed to let him crossdress, but she has also arranged for him to have a most splendid makeover and has hired an escort named Eric to take him to the ball. In Vickie's stories this usually spells penetration for the crossdresser's ass. When the man {known as "Jenny" when he's dressed as a female} returns from his date with Eric, he finds his wife sleeping in the arms of a naked man with whom she is sharing an obvious afterglow after a night of apparently riotous sex. What's a guy to do under the circumstances? He didn't dare enact the outraged husband of an adulterer, a victim of infidelity who has just caught his wife and her lover in the very act. Not dressed and looking the way he was. And so they make polite talk until the wife goes to the bathroom, and then he sucks her lover's cock. Enthusiastically. Then he sends his wife away; and while she talks on the phone, he has the other guy give it to him up the ass. After a while, we conclude that this is a tale of revenge. But who is revenging him/herself on whom? Actually, it's not revenge at all, but rather a gracious way to rearrange their lives so that everyone will be happy. My initial reaction to this story was, "Gimme a break!" Then I looked back over it, and I was forced to say, "Well, I guess this DOES make sense. Given these assumptions...." But those are mighty big assumptions. This isn't a story for everyone; but it is a highly creative story for people who enjoy fairly complex transgender plots. Ratings for "Makeover" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 8 "The Beginning Of a Life" by LeAnna ([email protected]). http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13397.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=375043480 This story is a snippet from a counseling session in which a sexually confused person is discussing with her therapist her present and prospective relationships. It's an example of good counseling. Indeed, many people could probably derive good vicarious advice from this story and apply it to their own lives. One problem that I had with this story is that it reminded me of a computer program called Eliza that somebody showed me several years ago. Eliza is programmed to simulate a non-directive {Rogerian} counselor. The program keys on certain words and just feeds the clients ideas back to him/her. If the computer finds no key word, it goes into a random response pattern, including such techniques as saying, (1) "I see." (2) "Why do you think you {insert most of client's sentence}?" or (3) "Have you ever thought of getting drunk over this?" It was that last part that convinced me that Eliza was a hoax; somebody was making fun of non-directive counselors. So when I read this story, I couldn't help but think of Eliza, and I was reassured when the shrink said, (1) "I see." and (2) "Why do you think you {insert most of client's sentence}?" But it was kind of like waiting for the other shoe to fall: I kept waiting for her to say (3) "Have you ever thought of getting drunk over this?" My reaction was, of course, irrational and irreverent. Although this is not a fully developed story, it is a good description of an interesting and productive counseling session. By the way, one of the great tragedies of American education is that counselors in our schools almost never conduct counseling sessions like the one described here. Kids certainly have sexual problems that need discussing and most schools have counselors who are as capable as the person described in this story. The problem is that these counselors are so preoccupied with drawing up schedules and mailing transcripts that they have no time whatsoever to counsel people with emotional problems. And so kids get counseled by other kids or by watching the soaps or reading this newsgroup. Check it out. This is something worth getting pissed off about. Ratings for "The Beginning Of a Life" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 8 "Joint Therapy" by Sarlife ([email protected]). http://www.qz.to/erotica/asmm/Year98/13331.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374582609 The main problem with this story is that it's difficult to decide how seriously to take it. I mean, a professional counselor simply would not permit one client to fuck another in a group therapy session. The counselor would call security. If nothing else, his insurance company would require him to do so. However, I COULD imagine this happening in an uncensored version of Bob Newhart, with Bob responding in a flustered way while two clients go at it with vigor. However, in even in that case I'd still like to see the grammar cleaned up and some more personality injected into the story. Ratings for "Joint Therapy" Athena (technical quality): 8 Venus (plot & character): 6 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 6 "Passing the Test" by Rock Hancock ([email protected]). http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12684.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=368291063 Steph {"36D-24-34. 5'08", 110 lbs., 28 years old. Green eyes, blond hair."} has been studying to become a sex slave. Now she must pass her final exam. She gives the Master's Big Boy her best blowjob. The master has a nine- incher. Steph realizes she has her work cut out for her, which would possible frighten Master, were he aware of the painful Bobbit pun in the main clause of this sentence. But then Mistress comes <wink> with a ping-pong paddle rather than a knife or scissors. Steph has been a bad girl, because she did not obtain Mistress's permission to suck her husband's cock. And so it goes. If you get high on predictable, mechanical sex-slave stories, this one is for you. However, if it's spontaneity and creativity that you want, I'd suggest that you look elsewhere. Ratings for "Passing the Test" Athena (technical quality): 8 Venus (plot & character): 6 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 4 "Hot Tub" by Mr. J ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=375811840 The grammar and point-of-view bothered me a little with this story; but as I approached the midpoint, I was beginning to find it interesting. The notion of a woman masturbating in front of a guy across from her in a hot tub while a large number of people frolicked nearby was becoming a real turn-on. Then I find the sentence, "You never could have started again, once you stopped, without my commanding it." Why the hell not? "Oh shit!" says I, "This is one of those sex slavery stories." People who write second-person ("you") stories need to realize that they are radically restricting their audience. Once I was told in this story that "I" had to be a mindless robot fulfilling the whims of my Master, my pussy dried up. I think my problem is that I've done something close to this - roaring orgasm while people milled about, unaware of what was going on. It was a much better story when it happened to me without the domination theme. The thrill was in sharing a secret, not in being a sextoy with essentially no personality. People who are into domination might read this story differently than I did. The specific problem that I see here is that this viewpoint is being foisted onto me when I don't even want it. This would be a good story without the domination theme. Believe me, I know. Ratings for "Hot Tub" Athena (technical quality): 7 Venus (plot & character): 5 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 5 "Nightmare" by Mark Aster ([email protected]). http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13386.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374919921 "You have to promise me," she says, "that, between moonrise and dawn, no matter what I say or what I do, or how hard I beg, you won't untie me or loosen the straps." What would your response be? Some men would probably ask to see the fine print. This could be a serious source of temptation for some guys. Very serious. Ratings for "Nightmare" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 9 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 9 "Grabbing the Brass Ring" by Unknown Author {You gotta label these damned things in the story itself!}. http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374733562 What we have here is a story-by-innuendo. The narrator is an apparently young woman who has been trying to get her act together after a string of dysfunctional events. We learn from her meandering memories that she has recently fucked the brains out of a pair of twins, who left her after several months for other women, and that as a six-year-old she had crawled into bed with her grandpa to comfort him when his wife had died and that she had performed a similar service for her brother several years later. The narrative evolves in a very confused fashion - I guess this is supposed to convey the sense of confusion that this screwed-up person is feeling as she retells her story. She presents herself as a bastion for good in the lives of the many people she has "helped" by having unusual sexual relationships with them. But while she's spent her whole life giving, she's never had the chance to "grab the brass ring" for herself. Yeah, right. I suspect the author had a point here, but he lost it amidst the convoluted attempts of the narrator to rationalize her sexual dysfunctions. As it stands, this is just a weird story that I don't recommend at all. Ratings for "Grabbing the Brass Ring" Athena (technical quality): 8 Venus (plot & character): 4 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 3 "Biochemistry" by J.R.D. ([email protected]). Guest review by Dave Myers. -- Prequel -- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059459 01 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059492 02 -- Biochemistry I -- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059444 -- Biochemistry 2-- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059407 01 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059418 02 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059434 03 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=371059476 04 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373606467 05 This is a longish boy-becomes-girl story with a kidnapping theme. From there, you can usually predict the rest of most TG stories, but this one has a couple good twists that set it apart somewhat. Still, there is little psychological development, and once the twists in the plot have been noted, things are back to usual in the predictability department. Unfortunately, it follows the lead of so many before, and focuses intently on body parts, especially those that are grown due to drug treatment (e.g., DD boobs). Some little bits of D/S are served adequately, and are the most exciting parts. The ending is strained. {Celestial note: The reviewer read and reviewed only the main story. I am posting the links for the Prequel and Sequel for the convenience of readers who want to see "the whole story."} Rating for "Biochemistry": 6.5 "The Shed" by The Big T ([email protected]). Review by Nick e-mail [email protected]. http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12423.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=365167370 <sigh> This takes me back. I remember watching our next door neighbour hanging out her washing at the same age as the boy in this story (11). Since this was the short skirt era (it still is, I suppose), I was treated to a good view of her "equipment" as she bent to retrieve washing from the basket. Although she was wearing panties, the folds, shapes and structures were all discernible, and it was the first time I'd ever seen a mature female in this way! I was fascinated and.... ...but I digress (Well? Celeste has been known to do it, so why shouldn't I!) This is a story about an 11-year-old boy who finds himself in a position to observe the girl next door through binoculars. In so doing he discovers for the first time the pleasures of sexual arousal at the forbidden sight of the female form. The writer tells us it's fictional, but it's certainly written in the style of someone who knows what he's talking about, and of course that's what gives it its quality. For me, though, it didn't quite capture the atmosphere of his discovery, although a good attempt was made. Perhaps too much emphasis was placed on what he was seeing, rather than the effect on him. My ratings for this are: Technique 8 Well written, but maybe the writer needs to have a look at what he is trying to achieve. Plot and Character 8 Good, the mother and the boys reaction to her were well-drawn. Appeal to me 9. Adjusting for Celeste Athena (Technique) 9 Venus (Plot and character) 10 Appeal 9 "Thank You" by Emil. Guest review by LeAnna. http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12787.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=369322287 I have half a suspicion this is an old Penthouse Variations letter, recycled. It has that same breathless, rush-to-the-next-position lack of character development. The other half suspicion is that this is an old story dusted off and reposted, because (thanks to various factors, Celeste not the least) new stories posted here are showing more and more sophistication in the art of writing all the time. And this little beastie is as sophisticated as a shit pie in the kisser. Quickie synopsis: Businessman (male) gives good friend's (female) friend (also female) a job. In appreciation the two women give him a tour of all their local pleasure spots. This one's not even bad enough to be good, it's just very . . . mediocre. Although, to give it its due, in a few places it approaches high camp badness out of sheer impossibility. At one point in the festivities, our hero is thrusting deeply into one woman at the same time as he's licking her clit. Now I've known some limber people, but this one I'd have to see to believe. Naw, second thought, I don't think I want to; the mental image of a human inchworm makes me a little queasy. As does the cock-to-ass-to-mouth scenario. Never understood the appeal of that one. I didn't like it, I didn't believe it, in the end I couldn't even read it. Give this one a pass. Ratings for "Thank You" Athena (writing quality): 6 Aphrodite (erotic quality): 2 Apollo (appeal to reviewer): 2 "Crazy Tomas" By Hawk Richards ([email protected]). Reviewed by Crimson Dragon ([email protected]) http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13196.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373254359 I'm torn about this story. In some ways I liked it, and in others I was left frustrated. Crazy Tomas is a bum, we've all seen them, and this story appears to be a quick glimpse into his life, complete with watching people on the street, bumping into a prostitute, and the subsequent actions that one might expect from such an encounter. I think that the author was trying to focus on Tomas and subtly expand upon his character. Tomas came across as realistic, while the rest of the city came across as more surreal. At least it did to me. Hawk does do a good job of creating imagery and atmosphere. I am guessing that this was the intent of the author - seeing the city through the eyes of Crazy Tomas. However, I was left a little frustrated, wanting to know more about his surroundings. For instance, his encounter with the prostitute was precipitated by him chasing, kindly I think, a grief stricken woman. The woman is described beautifully from a physical standpoint (and I don't mean 36-24-36), but we never do find out why the woman was crying, nor why Tomas was truly after her. We are left to guess and I suppose that it is realistic. The woman would hardly stop for the bum no matter how kind his intentions, especially if grief-stricken, but *I* still wanted to know why she was crying. It struck me as a waste to set that up and then not use it. A view settled a little more clearly inside his head about his motivations would have been nice. It kind of nagged at me, and distracted me a little from the rest of the story. There were a few other small details that I wanted expanded, like how he had enough money for the prostitute, why he wanted a prostitute in the first place and perhaps why he was out on the street. Given the intent, focus and short length of the story, I can live with not knowing. It didn't detract from the story that much. Hawk's physical descriptions of the people are full, though I wanted a better look at how the characters were driven. The writing is clean and readable. I was hooked early. I only noticed a couple of small mistakes in the English. But overall they were minor. It looks like a sentence was rewritten into a different view during proof-reading leaving a "she her" where there ought to have only been a "her". That one distracted me. A few other sentences had dropped words. And I believe that there is a difference between "scaring" and "scarring". Taken together, it wasn't enough to take more than a point off for. The small errors didn't distract me too much. At least it *was* proofed. It wouldn't take much work to bring the technical mark up to a 10. The sex wasn't remarkable, but it didn't have to be. It wasn't really overdone, and was appropriate for the encounter. Overall, I wanted to see a touch more character insight and detail. Perhaps a few more small details to explain some elements of the plot would have been nice. The prose was solid and well written, and interesting. Overall, I liked this story. If the characterisation was more solid, I would have gladly given this story higher appeal and character marks. I'm going to guess at what Celeste may have given this story. The appeal rating is entirely my own. Ratings for "Crazy Tomas": Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 8 Crimson (appeal to reviewer): 8 "The Girl from the Village" by Paris Waterman ([email protected]) Guest reviewed by Poison Ivan ([email protected]). http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13200.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13201.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13202.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13203.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13205.txt --- http://x12.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373286386 http://x12.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373286394 http://x12.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373286397 http://x12.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373286405 http://x12.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=373280504 In many ways, this is an ugly story. In the first half, the characters have bad breath and they haven't bathed recently. They fuck on a filthy, shit- strewn porch. The only reason they aren't disgusted with one another is each thinks they probably smell worse than the other does. Bruno and Ginger are the filthy couple, and while theirs isn't the prettiest fuck you'd ever want to see, at least they get off in a big way. The first half of this story documents Bruno and Ginger getting together for the first time. The story takes a turn when, in the heat of the moment, Ginger blurts out that she wants to be with another woman. Bruno gets pissed off, and Ginger receives a backhand to the face. It turns out that Ginger doesn't mind being hit, and Bruno apologizes. In fact, Bruno is so sorry he volunteers to help Ginger find a lesbian to have sex with. The lesbian they find isn't the nicest gal you'd ever want to meet, either. But at least this time everyone took baths first. The lesbian sex has an undercurrent of humiliation that sometimes made me uncomfortable. "The Girl from the Village" is not the kind of story I'd read for arousal, which probably explains why I thought the very long sex scenes were a little too long. And there were a few other minor problems. Ginger's confession that she wants to be with a woman is so unexpected that it didn't seem believable. And most of the story is told from Bruno's point of view (which was great), but there were a few short shifts to other perspectives that I found mildly distracting. That said, this story has a lot going for it. In more than fifty pages, I only noticed a handful of grammar or spelling errors. To this non-New Yorker, the characters speak with accents that sound real, which is very rare in ASS stories. Paris Waterman does an excellent job creating simple characters with simple drives. The sense of disgust in the first half is built up admirably. There are many nice descriptions along the way. The author has story-telling talent. If your kinks have something to do with filth and mild humiliation, you may like this story a lot. Ratings for "The Girl from the Village" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 8 Poison (appeal to reviewer): 8 "A Slavegirl of Rome" by Bad Badbad ([email protected]). Guest Review by Mary Jorsay Gandmar ([email protected]) http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13321.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=374274047 Gore Vidal's "Caligula" aside, the only other genuinely historical erotic fiction (it was too good to be merely pornographic), I know of are "The Loins of Amon" and "Roman Orgy," both by Marcus van Heller. The stories were terrific, with lots of action, sufficient plotting, economical yet graphic characterization and, best of all, lots of extraordinarily imaginative sex. I don't know if van Heller's books are still in print - I hope they are, for they are a far better read than most in the genre. Vidal's "Caligula", of course, is on another plane - relentless depravity from page one, but that was the whole point, I imagine, and, being the writer he is, superbly done. There is a sequence in "Caligula" in which the little emperor, increasingly demented now, commands the patrician nobility to make their ladies available for the delectation of the plebeians. This is exciting enough; but it goes further, and a game is developed. A partition is erected with hole punched through it at an appropriate height. On one side there is the man with his erection; on the other, something that can only be "soft, warm and wet" - a mouth, a cunt, an anus; and on neither side is the identity revealed. "A Slavegirl Of Rome", while not quite in this league (not yet, anyway), holds great promise. It has a scene not unlike the one from Caligula I've described, except that the teenage girl here is in stocks (her hands and neck), while her body is bent over a horizontal bar and her ankles are lashed to pegs knocked into the ground. She is being offered as a spectacle - the game is to see who can devise the most horrific means of taking her virginity. The story ends at this point, just when a male reader might be forgiven for being in a state of painful tumescence, positively salivating. It is horrific, yes, all of it, but sensual and sexy nonetheless if you have the stomach for a degree of violence in sex. One doesn't quite know how bad things are going to get next - I found myself hoping for a knight in shining armor, actually. Up to this point, it's not really a story, more a preface, perhaps the first part of a first chapter. The plot, so far, is just this - a slave girl is being auctioned, she gets picked up by the Emperor, and is put on display... and it ends at this point, awaiting the next installment. What makes the story unusually good is the polished literary quality of the writing. There are a few typos, but these are not obtrusive. The language is smooth, felicitous, and it strives for a somewhat Biblical style. When Celeste sent me the story it was just one long paragraph - and I carved it up as I thought fit. Now each paragraph begins with an And ... This gives the story a rushing, breathless quality, and yet preserves a certain detachment, not unlike a Biblical narrative. There is nothing contrived about it. The writer's "voice" perfectly matches the idiom. There is an impressive vocabulary and grasp of the quotidian aspects of Roman life here, brought out subtly, without excessive emphasis, just enough to lend atmosphere. But it's not only the place and the period and setting and the props. The emotions of the teenage girl are brought forcefully into play - and here lies the true power of the tale. The author makes no attempt to get into the girl's mind and to write "from the inside out". Instead, he seems to be circling around her, rather like a bird of prey, or one of the auctioneers or men in the crowd, observing and telling us what he sees. The descriptions are quickly detailed - indeed, there is no visible emotion, no apparent reaction left untold - but it remains consciously reportage, cold and at a remove. This is what happened, and then this, and then such and such. In the hands of a lesser writer, this technique might have yielded mere aridity. Not so here. There is a truly powerful evocation of an enormous amount of horror and empathy with the wretched creature who is being subjected to such torment - I felt a physical reaction to this writing, a quickening of the pulse, a revulsion I could not resist, mesmerized by the horror. The author's own feelings do not intrude; the reader is allowed to give full reign to his own emotions. The reader is the plaything. This is enormously skillful writing - and it would be a shame were the story to stop at this point. Athena (Technical Quality) : 10 Venus (Plot & Character) : 10 Mary (Appeal to reviewer) : 10 "A Dip in the Lake" by Trisnics ([email protected]). Guest review by Dart. http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12558.txt --- http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=366844430 A young couple, man and woman, are spending the summer touring national parks before returning to college in the fall. After a morning of hiking, he wants to go biking and she wants to go to the beach. So, after making plans to meet for dinner, they separate in order that each may pursue their favored activity. She's on the beach reading when she's approached by a beautiful woman. A woman with great taste in literature, since she had just finished reading the book the narrator is three-quarters of the way through. They bond quickly, and soon they're in the water having a delightful sexual experience. However, their watery location does inhibit eating, so they swim out to a vacant diving- platform in order to indulge their desire to become more intimately acquainted. They're back on the beach and getting dressed when the narrator realizes she has to rush to make her dinner engagement. Needless to say, she invites her new friend to accompany her, and, not surprisingly, her new friend accepts the invitation. It was, we are told by the narrator, the best evening of her vacation. I didn't especially care for this story. The plot was reasonable, but it needed more flesh, more detail, and the characters had, for me, no reality. Also, it would have been thoughtful of the writer, if he would have reread the story, at least once, with the help of a spell-checker. Ratings for "A Dip in the Lake" Athena (technical quality): 4 Venus (plot & character): 4 Dart (appeal to reviewer): 4 * "Camara, Lady of the Sword" by Tom Bombadil ([email protected]). http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4180.txt 01 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4309.txt 02 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4384.txt 03 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4533.txt 04 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4749.txt 05 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/4930.txt 06 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/5107.txt 07 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/5264.txt 08 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/5539.txt 09 This story purports to be an ancient epic about Lady Camara of Tyberion (pronounced Ka-ma'-rah, similar to cabana), a swordsman, archer, and minor mage, who is skilled in unarmed combat as well as with many weapons. She is highly knowledgeable in diverse areas, especially healing. Camara's stories may only be told late in the evening, when innocent children, and even some innocent wives and husbands, have retired. Few are unaffected by the proper telling of her tales, though the reactions are often mixed. Thou hast been warned! {I made that last sentence up myself!} An epic is an extended narrative - usually (but not in this case) in poetic format - that celebrates in elevated or dignified language the feats of a legendary or traditional hero. In the days before cable TV and arcade games, bards used to travel from town to town and castle to castle and relate epics while listeners consumed mead. Epics don't have a climax and denouement that follow the pattern of a normal novel or modern movie, and this may be irksome to some readers. I am not a sword and sorcery fan; in fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that magick doesn't work at all and that life would be uninteresting if it did. {I get tired of the rules constantly changing and the ever-present deus ex machina to solve serious problems in unrealistic ways.} Nevertheless, I enjoyed this tale, which presented interesting and exciting sexual activities in the exotic context of Camara's quest for the medallion of King Merovance and her simultaneous search for meaning in her life. It was a very good story. Like most epics, this story is presented through the eyes of the bard, who is reciting the tale to an assembled multitude and who occasionally digresses to tell another tale at the request of a Lord or Lady. Although you'll want to read this entire story, the lengthy tale (360K) is subdivided into nine chapters that permit the reader to enjoy the epic in smaller installments. Ratings for "Camara" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Inger" by Friar Dave ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=292720368 01 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=293046376 02 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=293565808 03 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=294776224 04 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=294761113 05 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=294729804 06 http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=294734507 07 Roger is a single Father who is raising a 12-year-old son. He hires Inger, an intelligent, dependable, but apparently unattractive college girl to do the housework, to help with homework, and to generally keep an eye on his son while he is at work. Bill discovers long before Roger does that Inger can really be a fox when she wants to be one. Meanwhile, Roger begins dating Bill's English teacher. Well, while Roger goes out with Bernice the English teacher, Inger notices that Bill has been running off to the bathroom to masturbate; and she asks him if it's because he's thinking about the English teacher who is with his father. Bill replies with something like, "No. I'm thinking about you, Inger. Look, I have another boner right now!" Since they have to study algebra, she helps him relax his erection before study time; and eventually she integrates their mutual physical attraction into part of an incentive system to get him to study hard. {Ooops! "Study hard" can have more than one meaning in this instance, I guess.} And so the plot thickens. I might add that giving a kid a hand job when he displays a hard-on that you have caused is not a good way to eliminate or minimize future erections. A more successful strategy would be to hit him in the groin with a baseball bat. There, that should settle you down for a while. As I said, Inger's method would not have been successful had it been her goal to minimize arousal in order to facilitate the study of algebra, which would have been a worthy goal. However, it turns out that she has needs too. And so she and Bill form a sort of Reciprocal Needs Alliance. She will scratch his back if he scratches hers - only it's not their backs that they will be scratching. This is a very good story. We get to see Roger develop his relationship with Bernice and Bill develop his with Inger, who has developed a tutoring system that manages to get the 12-year-old through calculus in just about three months! The sex is very hot. Pop quiz for Celeste: (1) Q. Should a man develop a sexual relationship with his son's English teacher? A. Sure, why not? (2) Q. Should a responsible parent hire a sexy college student and let her have sex with his 12-year-old son? A. No. A parent should screen and supervise his baby-sitter more carefully than this. If you'll pardon the expression, Roger just got lucky. Inger would be guilty of statutory rape in most jurisdictions. The judge would probably also be rough on the father for dereliction of parental responsibility. Note, however, that it's also extremely unlikely that a 12-year-old would within three months go from remedial algebra to advanced calculus - no matter what reward system the tutor employed. If a tutor could actually do this, the judge would probably give her a suspended sentence and require her to do community service - consisting of applying the same system to the judge's children or possibly to the judge himself. However, readers are advised to ignore this information and read this story as a very good fantasy. Ratings for "Inger" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Homeward Bound" by Dafney Dewitt ([email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=185795756 The story begins in the middle of the action with the woman raping the guy. It seems he had been in prison for five years; and the first thing he did when he got out was get drunk and rape the old lady. He fell asleep before he actually stuck it in; but dominating her was 90% of the fun anyway. Except that when he wakes up he finds himself securely bound to a chair by a woman who is going to have her way with him and who has a pretty good plan for keeping him in line in the future. This is a very vivid story. That's why this author is listed in my FAQ as one whose stories I try not to miss. I am going to try to review some more of this author's stories in subsequent weeks. Ratings for "Homeward Bound" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Feet Are Neat" by Mike Hunt (M1KE [email protected]). http://search.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=239515599 Every job has its perks, and for the shoe salesman the main perk is the fact that occasionally a sexy woman comes into the store and flirts with or exposes herself to the salesman. I've never thought about it before, but I guess the salesman could fondle some pretty attractive legs from time to time and probably catch a glance of some sexy panties - if the customer happens to be wearing any. In this story, however, Mike Hunt is kind of naive; the high- schooler enjoys the spectacle, but he doesn't realize that the customer (a sexy older woman) is coming on to him. He gets wise about the time she brings him to climax with her foot against his crotch. This is a very good story about exhibitionism and voyeurism in the ole shoe store. I just saw a notice in this author's repost of "The O'Stikkit Inn." Mike Hunt is going to be on vacation and unavailable for a couple of weeks. I'm afraid to say that sentence out loud: my husband might go into a state of depression. Anyway, the author and his lewd and lascivious but lithe and lovely little lady June will be driving through the American Southeast. If you're in that area, you might get lucky and spot them - actually, you might spot them and get lucky. You can easily recognize them from the descriptions of Mike Hunt provided in these stories. One good way to figure out where they're likely to be is to anticipate the title of the next story. For example, if you were driving past a place called the "O'Stikkit Inn," that would be a major clue, because "O'Stikkit Inn by Mike Hunt" is a pun that conveys a sexual innuendo, and this author can't survive without that sort of thing. You might think that since that title is already taken the couple will now avoid inns of that name, but that's not true: " O'Stikkit Inn by Mike Hunt 2" would be another excellent pun. Personally, if I were driving past the residence of Seymour Heine, I'd knock on the door and ask for Mike Hunt. If the person answering the door acts confused, just shout the password : "O'Stikkit Inn." If the person is nasty, you may consider mooning him while you utter these words; and if you are a female, it would be appropriate to add the author's name. Then you'll get the reception you deserve. Ratings "Feet Are Neat" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 <end>

Celestial Reviews 257 - February 11, 1998 Note: Did you hear about the guy who had tried every diet in the world in an attempt to lose weight? He tried the Scarsdale diet, the Navy diet, Weight Watchers, etc.; and none worked. He was reading the paper one day, when he noticed a small ad which read: Lose weight $1.00 a pound. And it simply listed a telephone number. Having little to lose, the man called the number. A sultry female voice on the other end asked, 'How much weight do you want to lose?' The man responded, 'Ten pounds.'. The voice replied, 'Very well. Put you check in the mail, and we'll have a representative over to your house in the morning.' About 9:00 am the next morning the man heard a knock on the door. There stood a beautiful redheaded woman, completely naked except for a sign around her neck stating, 'If you catch me, you can screw me'. Well, the overweight fellow chased her upstairs, downstairs, over sofas, through the kitchen, all around the house. Finally he did catch her; and when he was through enjoying himself, she said, 'Quick, go into the bathroom and weigh yourself!'. He did just that and was amazed to find that he had lost ten pounds, right to the ounce! That evening he called the number again. The voice on the other end asked, 'How much weight do you want to lose?'The somewhat less overweight man replied, 'Twenty pounds.'. 'Very well,' the voice on the phone told him; 'Put you check in the mail, and we'll have a representative over to your house in the morning.' At about 8:00 am the next morning the man received a knock on the door. When he opened the door he saw a beautiful blond dressed only in track shoes and a sign around her neck stating, 'If you catch me, you can screw me'. The chase took a while longer this time, but the man finally did catch her. When he was through, she told him, 'Quick, run into the bathroom and weigh yourself!' He ran to the bathroom and found he had lost another 20 pounds! 'This is fantastic!' he thought. Later that evening he called the number again and the voice at the other end asked, 'How much weight do you want to lose?'. 'Fifty pounds!' the man exclaimed. 'Fifty pounds?' the voice asked. 'That's an awful lot of weight to lose at one time.'. The overweight man replied, 'My check's already in the mail. You just have your representative over here in the morning.' Then he hung up the phone. About 6:00 am the next morning the man got out of bed and got all fancied up, ready for the next representative. At about 7:00 am he heard a knock on the door. When he opened the door he saw a large gorilla with a sign around his neck stating, 'If I catch you, I'm going to screw you.' Second note: I think the Story Links have been a useful addition. I'd like to express my appreciation to Sandman, who has been supplying the links that the guest reviewers and I have been unable to obtain ourselves for each issue. Third note: I have had several inquiries recently regarding "Tie Fighter" by Walter Slaven. I may be mistaken, but my recollection is that Walter is in a position where he cannot post because of his job - I think he might be a special prosecutor or a White House intern or something like that. Although it was not complete at the time I last reviewed it, "Tie Fighter" is one of the best stories ever posted on this newsgroup. I hope someone can find a way to repost it. Final note: Remember: even though someone else may be posting my reviews for me, my e-mail address is still [email protected]. - Celeste "Inn" by Uther Pendragon (romance) 10, 10, 10 http://w9.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=322865614 "The Trick" by Spoonbender (turning a trick) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8197.txt "Always the Same" by Sven the Elder (hot flirtation & romantic fuck) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8139.txt "Friends and Lovers" by SandMan (romance) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7881.txt "Fighting Rose's Corner" by Nick (Celestial sequel) 10, 8, 8 Guest Reviews: "Study Partner" by DevoSpudC (academic sex) 9, 9, 9 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7915.txt "School Daze" by Gargoyle (high school sex fantasy) 8, 9, 9 http://w9.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=291344172 http://w9.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=291210183 "Dance of the Worm" by Peter (nice friendly sex) 8, 9, 9 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8028.txt "The Two of Us" by Vickie Tern (TG femdom) 9, 7, 3 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8152.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8153.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8154.txt "Slippery Fun" by Unknown Author (suck & fuck story) 7, 1, 1 http://w9.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=322388931 "My Three Sisters" by Tom and Emerson Laken-Palmer (incest fantasy)10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8083.txt "Michele" by Stephen Peters (kiddysex) 9.5, 7, 0 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8026.txt "A Meeting" by Bob (bdsm) 8, 8, 8 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8194.txt "Love at First Sight" by Tom (love story) 5, 6, 5 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7391.txt "Bronze Lust" by A Pulp Fan (action adventure sex) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8112.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8113.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8114.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8115.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8116.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8117.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8118.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8119.txt "A Friend in Need" by Phil Phantom (king of the herd fantasy) 9, 7, 7 Part (1/2) http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7483.txt Part (2/2) http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7488.txt Reposted Reviews: * "Soft Ball or My Best Position" by Taria (shower sex) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8289.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8290.txt * "Marie" by Friar Dave (emerging adolescence) 10, 10, 10 http://w9.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=323632711 http://w9.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=323632721 * "Catty Corner" by SueNH (voyeurism) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8223.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8224.txt * "The Black Box" by Emerson Laken-Palmer (mind control) 9.5, 8, 8 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8205.txt * "Rain" by Mark Aster (voyeurism & sex on the beach) 10, 10, 10 http://w9.dejanews.com/getdoc.xp?AN=178772411 * "Rain" by M.M. Twassel (voyeurism & emerging sexuality) 9, 10, 10 http://members.aol.com/Mmtwassel/rain.htm * = Repost of previous review (because the story has recently been reposted) "Inn" by Uther Pendragon ([email protected]). From the very beginning, when the man picks up the woman in the restaurant (or is it vice versa?), I thought I knew pretty much where this story was going. I was right, but I still enjoyed getting to the "surprise" ending. However, I think I still had better refrain from telling you too many details. In brief, the man and woman meet in the restaurant, dine together, and then retire for tender but hot sex. This author has written scenes like this so often that they have become routine, but they are still very, very nice romantic scenarios. Ratings for "Inn" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "The Trick" by Spoonbender ([email protected]). This is one of those stories whose entire impact is achieved by its cleverness. If I tell you anything at all about it, then it won't be clever at all, and the story will really suck, in the bad sense of that term. Let me just assure you that I am hard to trick, and this one did trick me - at least a little bit. It's a short but excellent little story. Ratings for "The Trick" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Always the Same" by Sven the Elder ([email protected]). Most Americans named Jay are males. From this story we learn that there is at least one female in Britain with that name. Sven can tell she's a female from the nice way she fills out her leotard while they work out together at the club. Jay has been flirting with Sven, and she can perhaps tell that he is a male by the nice way his half-erection fills out his shorts. Raging hard-ons just don't work really well on exercise machines - at least if one wants to continue the original exercise and not digress to another. Today when Sven leaves the gym, he finds Jay distressed because it is raining, and she doesn't want the rain to fall hard on her body. I just wanted to see if I could say the words "hard on" in a sex review without direct reference to the ole muttondagger. But really, it's raining with thunder and lightning; and so Sven offers Jay a ride home, even though by this time her lithe and lovely, lewd and lascivious body is covered in a baggy warm-up suit. Well, I suspect you can see where this is going. That's right, they share sausage and eggs between the legs while the summer storm thunders away in the background. The intensity of flirtation is extremely well done. A young and aggressive woman can be a real turn-on to a man, or so I'm told. I happen to know from personal experience that things very much like this do happen in real life during thunderstorms after exercise. Ratings for "Always the Same" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Friends and Lovers" by Sandman ([email protected]). Sandman's stories are archived at ftp://asstr.ml.org/pub/Authors/sandman/index.html. In their very young teenage years (the story doesn't really say how young), Cal and Kathy spent many an enjoyable day innocently and pleasantly discovering each other's bodies. Then Kathy's parents moved away; and the friends were separated until they happened to meet during their college days. That day they make it as far as Kathy's Toyota before falling into a passionate embrace. Then they meet again many years later, when they are both married and committed to their families. Finally, they meet once again in the winter of their lives. "Like two ships that pass in the night, or two thieves stealing time and pleasure where they can find it. So are the Days of Our Lives." Or something like that. This story is long on sentiment. But it moistened my pussy as well as my eyes. In short, this is an excellent story that blends sex and emotions into a genuinely erotic story. This story also contains the accidental quote of the year: "There was something fascinating about what he was seeing that he couldn't quite put his finger on." Ratings for "Friends and Lovers" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Fighting Rose's Corner" by Nick ([email protected]). This is a follow-up to my story entitled "The Review," which was originally posted in CR 250 as part of my review of DG's "Call of Desire" (which was also rated the Number 5 story of January 1998). In order to make really good sense out of the present story, you really ought to read my story first, which is archived at http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7611.txt. In my story, the fictional Celeste (c'est moi) was trying to write a review, but my husband came on to me and distracted me from my writing task. After I am thoroughly aroused, the phone rings, and my husband decides to increase our enjoyment by banging away at me even more industriously. The climax, so to speak, comes when he fucks me in the ass while I continue to converse on the phone with a rather prudish woman, who presumably knows not what is going on. The present story continues from the perspective of the other woman (Rose) after she has hung up the phone. I won't try to summarize the details. My overall reaction was that I was flattered that someone would enjoy my story enough to try writing a follow-up. However, my feeling is that this sequel is far too introspective. It's dangerous to praise one's own stories; but one of the best features of my story was that it conveyed most of the sexy idea through action. This sequel goes into Rose's background and her innermost thoughts - but there is no real action. I personally still enjoyed the story very much; but I think a reader without a vested interest would prefer that the author show us what Rose has done rather than just summarizing her sexual background. And so I am going to propose a contest. Maybe not a contest - perhaps I should call it an invitation. The challenge is to write Chapter 2 of "The Review." Follow it up in some creative manner. One possibility would be to try again from Rose's perspective, but that is not the only option. You can do anything you want, but you should try to be consistent with my original story. I think this could be fun. Note that SueNH and some co-authors have done something similar in the withSue stories. For example, her Catty Corner became Across the Catty Corner in cooperation with Backrub. Likewise, Mat Twassel wrote a sequel from a different perspective to Mark Aster's "Rain". TEX did this in an almost opposite way in "Raped Teen Burglar." I'm sure there are other examples. In fact, if you feel an urge to expand upon someone else's story, go ahead and try. My advice is that you cite the other story accurately in your disclaimer and that you seek the cooperation and approval of the person whose story you are expanding. I won't put a time limit on this. If you're interested, give it a try. And if you know of other sequel-stories that I have missed, let me know, and I'll try to post a complete list. Ratings for "Fighting Rose's Corner" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 8 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 8 "Study Partner" by DevoSpudC ([email protected]). Guest review by Dart. This is a very pleasant, gentle, and modestly erotic story. Jessica and Vicki are together in the library. Vicki is studying, and also chastising Jessica for being distracted by the gorgeous young man she's watching through a window near their table. Jessica has a calculus exam the following day which she really needs to pass, and she's behind; and Vicki enjoys pointing out to her that she hasn't the freedom to idle away her time gazing at young men. Jessica agrees and applies herself to her studies. Prim Vicki, meanwhile, leaves Jessica to struggle with her studies by herself, since she has a class. Like all good calculus students, Jessica becomes so engrossed in her studies that by the time she thinks she's in reasonably good shape for the exam, it's after ten and the library's deserted, except for a shy- appearing young man who smiles at her when she finally looks up. She smiles back. She's about to ask him what he's studying, when he drops his pen. She waits while he bends down to retrieve it. He doesn't reappear where she expects; and she never does find out, academically at least, what he was studying. But by the time she's back in her room, she's a lot more relaxed. I would have liked a sentence explaining why Vicki never returned to the library after her class. Also, Vicki was sometimes referred to as "Vicky." Finally, the author begins a sentence: She had ceased wearing bras some ago as ..., when I think he means: She had ceased wearing bras some time ago as .... Ratings for "Study Partner" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 9 Dart (appeal to reviewer): 9 "School Daze" by by Gargoyle ([email protected]). Guest Review by Sandman ([email protected]). Imagine if you will a school where attendance is dropping, seriously jeopardizing the school's funding. Well, our narrator puts things back on the straight and narrow, by abandoning the straight and narrow. From now on, all female teachers must wear skimpy outfits and being exhibitionists at heart they all fall willingly into line and show as much flesh as possible. We know this is a fantasy because at least in MY high school, there were more than a few teachers that would have caused me to ditch school if they tried to pull anything like this. In fact, it is my belief that our "health" teacher was specifically selected because no sane teenage boy, however raging the hormones, would ever be aroused by words such as "penis" and "vagina" when uttered from her lips. The first chapter in this 90K story briefly introduces us to the various teachers. The subsequent chapters are a more thorough exploration of the fun each teacher has with her students. This begins with simple exhibition and moves very quickly into finding out exactly how many penises can be stuffed into a teacher at the same time. By golly math can be fun! If you have six teenage boys with raging erections how many orgasms will the teacher have? If I had word problems like that in school, maybe I wouldn't have to go rooting around for my calculator so often! I have to admit this story was fun. I also have to admit a bias. A bunch of adult women having sex with high school boys is perfectly OK by me. If School Daze had been about a bunch of adult men having sex with high school girls, I probably would have had significant problems with the story, regardless of the fantasy aspect. That thought is profoundly deeper than anything you'll find in this story. "School Daze" was totally unrealistic. There were some awkward sentences, a few misused words, a lack of transitions to smooth the reading; but it was outrageous as hell, and I enjoyed it. If you're looking for fun, uncomplicated, fantasy sex you'll probably like this one a lot. Athena (technical quality): 8-- Needs a good proof, not too distracting. Venus (plot & character): 9-- Lots of sex, stayed a fantasy. Sandman (appeal to reviewer): 9-- It's not a classic, but I enjoyed it. "Dance of the Worm" by Peter. Guest review by Mark Aster. This is a nice, warm, sexy human-interest story, about a young man who has no luck with random superficial girls his own age, but meets a pretty slightly-older woman at a dance class and, well, gets along very well with her. In the back seat of the car. This story is more in the true-life-experience genre than the literary- sex-story genre; which is to say, not that it's true, but that it reads like it might be, like it might be a friend telling the story to you. The story as story has a few imperfections; I found the first two or three sections rather beside the point, or at least too long for what they did. The diction is awkward in a few places, but nothing seriously distracting. My only complaint about the story or the sex is that the idea of making love in the back seat of a Datsun makes my leg-muscles cramp up! <grin> Recommended as a heartwarming story of nice friendly sex, with some dirty talk thrown in as a bonus. Ratings for "Dance of the Worm": Athena: 8 (basic correct writing) Venus: 9 (friendly and sexy and convincing) Mark: 9 (nice story) "The Two of Us" by Vickie Tern ([email protected]). Vickie Tern's stories are archived at http://library.gaycafe.com/nifty/ transgender/by_authors/vickie_tern This is a femdom story, but female values hardly triumph. The story is about the forced (?) feminization and enslavement of a man by his wife. But it is also deeply misogynistic - the woman telling the story expresses beliefs about how we should behave which I found both repellent and archaic. As a reviewer I'm from a different world. I adore my husband and the narrator has nothing but contempt for hers. I'm a feminist and the narrator despises women. I have to accept the narrator's world view is part of something a large group of readers find profoundly erotic but which, in this case, passes me completely. It is well-written, hypnotic in its assurance, but falls down in its POV. The tale is told as though the narrator were talking to a friend, and this approach is often successful. But the speaker goes on and on - it's a very long story - without apparently pausing for breath. I couldn't help wondering how long any listener would have put up with this without interjecting a question or response. I know *I* had some questions, like "Why didn't you just divorce him if you loathed him so much?" or "Exactly how unhappy do you both want to get?" but, aw, fuck it, this is sex fantasy, not RL and I respect the fact some people will love every minute. I can cheerfully accept it's not my thing. What I find hard to handle is the hatred of both women's roles and male inadequacy expressed. The only life jumps into the story as the narrator describes great experiences with passionate huge-dicked men. I wish *she'd* stuck to that. Or *he'd* stuck to that - whatever.... Ratings for "Two of Us" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 7 (falls down on narrative voice) Bronwen (appeal to reviewer): 3 (it *is* well-written, and a few bits flickered some appeal) "Slippery Fun" by Unknown Author ([email protected]). Guest review by Sven the Elder. Right from the word 'go', from the point of view of this reviewer, this story gets two strikes against it. There is no clear idea as to who the author is and there is spam for a story site at the start and finish of the story. The latter, particularly, *SMELLS*!!! If I want to be spammed I can do so by trying to find stories in what used to be a.s.s - I do *NOT* want to find it within a story I am trying to read. I do not refer to where an author has a reference to their own site, but rather the sort that reads, and I quote : " Would you like thousands of erotic stories in many different topics? Cum to http:..." As to the missing author name - was the poster the author, or has someone decided to steal this story, remove the authors name and then just post it? Sadly it is impossible to tell, perhaps the *real* author will stand up and either claim or reclaim the story. Who knows. Rant mode off!! - And I haven't even read the story yet. The story is a somewhat uninteresting suck and fuck story involving a lesbian four-way with a follow-up of some equally uninteresting MF to close. The idea may well be taken from the screenplay of one of the poorer quality porn videos that seem to float around. There are a number of credulous assumptions and zilch in the way of plot. It isn't even good one-handed fiction. There would appear to be little in the way of technical errors, but having read it once I am not about to go back and waste time a second time. Advice to possible readers - if you like this sort of thing it may well be of interest - If you like your stories to have a start, middle and end, look elsewhere, this was not worth reading. Ratings for "Slippery Fun" Technical quality: 7 Plot & character: 1 Sven (appeal to reviewer): 1 "My Three Sisters" by Emerson Laken-Palmer ([email protected]). Guest Review by BillyG. It's almost embarrassing to admit that I like action movies, particularly the mindless, unbelievable-hero type filled with gratuitous violence and killing. I suppose the embarrassment arises from the fact that in my real life I abhor violence. Yet, in the action movies, it's sufficiently distant from reality, I don't take it seriously. There's a strong carry over into the stories in this newsgroup I particularly dislike stories of rape and non-consensual exploitation when it "sounds" real. On the other hand, I can enjoy an erotic story that's clearly and deeply embedded in fantasy. Such is the case for "My Three Sisters" by Emerson Laken-Palmer (ELP). ELP's stories are usually well crafted, establishing the very human personalities of the players with skill and introducing the erotic scenarios with credibility. That, of course, is what helps create the eroticism. At the same time there's an overlay of fantasy that allows me to enjoy a story that delves into non-consensual as well as exploitive incestuous sex. A literary double standard? Sure. Tom's a horny 15-year-old boy who's surrounded by females, his sisters. The oldest and token sex pot is Rachel, a beautiful cheerleader type who's a year older than Tom and largely oblivious of him. She's his voyeuristic and masturbatory fantasy and for the moment, he's largely unaware of his one-year-younger, tomboy-kid-sister Susan. Finally, his 11-year-old sister Christa is nothing more than a tattle-tale pain in the butt. Stumbling onto his older sister, drunk in the bathroom at a teenage party, he undresses, plays with and finally fucks her, all in a strangely loving way. As it turns out, that's it for them but it does open the doors in a convoluted manner for Tom to "force" his baby sister initially into a sexy spanking scene, ostensibly as a way of shutting her up. Later, their sex escalates in a consensual albeit kinky way. (Keep in mind that sex with an 11-year-old girl, consent or not, is exploitive and NOT OK.) As you might have imagined, the really hot one is his tomboy sister, Susan. They have the closest emotional connection and have great affection for each other. That they secretly lust for each other might be anticipated, but still comes across a delightful "surprise." I liked this story and it scored well on my peter-meter. Ratings for "My Three Sisters" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 BillyG (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Michele" by Stephen Peters ([email protected]). Guest review by Anne747 ([email protected]). One of my biggest flaws (well one of them at least) is that when I don't want to do something I can be the world's worst procrastinator. I really didn't want to review this story. Oh, I could have sent it back to Celeste, but I try not to do that very often, since having her pre- read them would defeat the purpose of guest reviewers. And actually, even if she had read it, she might figure it would slip under my `ick' radar (if there is such a thing). Okay, quick review, then my semi-rant. John, a 34-year old architect with a masters in civil engineering, has an affair with his 15-year old neighbor. That's really the whole story. It is written as a `true story' with a disclaimer at the end about it being fictional (although something the author wouldn't mind doing from his comments). So that's it - you like reading about grown men fucking little girls - you'll love it. It's reasonably well written, although a spell check would have picked up a couple of errors. Now, here are my problems with the story. First, I can't figure out why, but the author has a phone number for a voice mail system at the end. I can't help but wonder if he hopes an impressionable 15-year old will read the story and call him. God, I hope not. Second, the author tries to make John the victim of the story. Poor John, seduced into fucking the poor teenager. See, Michele is from a soon to be broken home. She's running away from a fight at home the first time they meet. He invites her in and befriends her. Along the line he realizes he's attracted to her, but fights it. Of course, when Michele arrives at the door, all wet and upset that her father has called her a whore, John succumbs to her plea for him to screw her. Yes, that's just what a confused child from a bad home life needs - sex. I don't know, the whole thing just turned my stomach. Of course the author even goes to the extent of letting you know how emotionally hurt he was by the whole thing, and the moral struggle he went through before deciding to fuck the young girl. Oh, and she tells him not to feel guilty, because she really wanted him to fuck her. Such a nice touch (ick). Ratings for "Michele" Athena (technical quality): 9.5 Venus (plot & character): 7 (probably higher if you buy into the motivation) Anne747 (appeal to reviewer): 0 (yep, disliked it that much) "A Meeting" by Bob ([email protected]). Guest review by Kim. This is a "first attempt" by Bob to post a sex story, so it says here. Oooh, Bob, ya ready for this? I'll take it slow at first... Two unnamed people, a woman and a man, meet on a flight to London, he a computer engineer, her a flower buyer. They hit it off, and arrange a date for that evening. No jet lag for them, oh no, it's off to a very strange restaurant with an odd line in entertainment. After eating their way though a lovingly detailed menu, they settle down to watch the floor show. This consists of the spectacle of a woman getting tied to a sawhorse and then getting beaten to orgasm by a guy in a long black cape wielding an assortment of implements of corporal punishment. Now you might expect this to be a bit racy for a first date, but not our couple, soon they're back at her hotel getting up to their own little bit of spanking fun. Having warmed her ass once, they decide they will continue there dom/sub relationship by flying off to Paris, as you do. Once there, a much more detailed meeting of Master and willing submissive takes place, involving such whimsy as her undressing him using just her teeth. It all ends with them cuddling each other to sleep. Maybe not everyone's idea of a romantic story, and while not entirely gentle, then certainly loving, none the less. As a story, it lacks much of a coherent narrative, but it's really an excuse for the linking of the BDSM scenes. The English was a bit lacking in places, but nothing too wayward. I did notice a technical error. I haven't been to London for a long time, but they didn't have single pound notes even then. But then again, this could be set in the past (apart from the fact that the guy is a network engineer, which I don't think have been around for all that long). Ah well, whatever, I doubt it makes much of a difference, all things considered. Generally I quite like consensual spanking stories, though I personally don't care for dom males, but hey, it wasn't written just for me. Not too bad for a "first attempt". Ratings for "A Meeting" Athena (technical quality): 8 (Nothing really bad) Venus (plot & character): 8 (Precious little story, but good sequences) Kim (appeal to reviewer): 8 (Read a lot worse, specially first time efforts) "Love at First Sight" by Tom ([email protected]). Reviewed by James. This is as close to Perfect as I have ever read. Which makes things seem, but only in retrospect, predictable. You see, this is a story with symmetry. Mary and Jack live in a carefree world - world whose only blemish is the crude fragrance of lilac bushes beside Jack's driveway. They are made for each other. She is as innocent as he is experienced. There is no evil or ugliness, only love and beauty - and the Perfect ending. For all this Perfection there were times when I got drawn in. I could imagine Mary's angelic figure -the awe of Jack as he realized he had found the one he would give everything up for. In this story, anyone who has been in love will find empathy. Whilst I liked this story - with its interesting, mild, interludes with Jack and Marsha, and, Jack and the English school teacher - it was not without some unwelcome distractions. For instance, I did not need to be told over and over again that "They were the same height". Some of the paragraphs are also way too large - making the story feel too long (even though it takes less than 20 minutes to read). To conclude, this story might feature some sex, but first and foremost it is a love story. And, at the end of the day, not one I feel inclined to recommend. Ratings for "Love at First Sight" Athena (technical quality): 5 Venus (plot & character): 6 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 5 "Bronze Lust" by A Pulp Fan. Guest review by Igor. This is a story featuring Pat Savage, a well known pulp heroine, cousin to the famous Doc Savage, and a two-fisted scrapper in her own right. Patricia, however, takes on a whole new dimension in this lustful saga of erotic-action adventure. There is enough unadulterated raw sex, lesbian activity, gangbanging, oral sex, anal sex and three-way sex to satisfy everyone and keep both cocks and nipples stiff throughout all of the eight chapters of this sexual adventure. Briefly, we find our heroine witness to a street kidnapping following a delicious lesbian romp with her close friend, Melissa. True to her pulp image, she immediately takes pursuit and sets in motion events that lead her to uncover a Nazi plot to steal a secret weapon. With Doc and the fabulous five away, Pat's on her own and loving it. She manages to get herself captured by the gang of nefarious cut-throats who are about to sell our country out, turning the kidnapped inventor and his weapon over to the Nazis. While awaiting the arrival of the Nazi submarine, our captors have ample time to concentrate on the lovely bronze bombshell, tied deliciously bare and naked to a cot. Events of the night leave our heroine soaked in sexual sweat and dripping with cum as all of the gang members satisfy themselves, each according to his own peculiar sexual proclivity, on the body of her person. Pat is, however, a far cry from the helpless victim of gang rape, but rather is caught up in a frenzy of sexual lust, desire and orgasmic overkill. Needless to say, rescue is eventually achieved when Doc and company return, track our wayward heroine down, and foil the Nazi plot. Later, a fantastic menage-a-trois culminates the climax to this lustful yarn in a vivid scene. This is a very well written story with good, true to form, character development and non-stop action. The author did a good job with characters that appeared in other stories, but you don't have to be a Doc Savage fan to enjoy it. I hope that the author will favor us with additional pulp heroines in lusty, action adventures. "Bronze Lust" is high caliber reading and very highly recommended. Ratings for "Bronze Lust": Technical Quality - 10 Plot & Character -- 10 Reviewer Appeal -- 10 "A Friend in Need" by Phil Phantom ([email protected]). Guest Review by DG. Imagine, if you will, a fortyish guy with an average job, a house in the burbs, a wife, and a kid. It's Sunday afternoon, and he's watching football on TV and having a couple beers. He's feeling a little sleepy, so he pops the footrest on his recliner, leans back, and closes his eyes. While he's snoozing, he enters his own private fantasy universe, a strange place we might call... Testosterone Land. Let's follow this typical American family man and see what happens: Testosterone Land doesn't seem all that different at first. The guy still lives in the burbs with his wife and son. But then we notice some subtle changes... for starters, he's now the big shot in the neighborhood - the guy with the nicest house and the most money. He and his wife hold wild parties every week, where everyone gets stinking drunk and wife-swapping is rampant. His own wife is aggressively bisexual, and they enjoy comparing notes on which of the neighborhood wives have the juiciest pussies. He has his way with any number of women (his wife doesn't mind a bit), but he has one special mistress - a respectable married woman who just can't say no to him, much to her shame. He fucks her whenever he wants, right under her wimpy husband's nose. In fact, she's even given birth to a couple of his kids, who have red hair just like him so everyone knows who their stud-daddy is. As for his son, he's a chip off the old block: he's only 17, but he's already popped most of the cherries in the neighborhood. Just to make things interesting, there's one really hot wife who won't sleep around - even with him, the big cheese of the neighborhood. But then her husband dies and leaves her broke. Now he's in good shape, because his wife decides to turn her into the family maid/sex slave... What's that? He's waking up - what a shame. Uh oh, it's his wife calling him. He's got to get up out of his recliner and mow the lawn. Too bad. He's already looking forward to his next trip to Testosterone Land. Ratings for "A Friend in Need" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 7 DG (appeal to reviewer): 7 * "Soft Ball or My Best Position" by Taria ([email protected]). Guest review by Cellist. {Note from Celeste: This was reposted as a Valentine for M1ke Hunt.} Neither Fiddler nor Piper were available for this review, so Celeste turned it over to me, Cellist. The story is about a sexy young lady who plays second-base on a coed softball team. I have played second bass in the past, but now I play cello. The story takes place in the romantic environment of a sweaty softball game. One day a sorta cute guy shows up as a substitute, but he wants to play second base, which position is already taken by the narrator, as I have said. His name is Mike Hunter, but with some modification of the name he hopes some day to become a short story writer of sorts. I guess I should stop beating around the bush and come out and say it: this is a parody of a Mike Hunt sex story. As a result of some incredible coincidences Mike and the young female baseball enthusiast have to shower together; and as fate would have it, they fuck their mutual brains out. Fuck! Now there's an interesting word. It's a word redolent of baseball imagery. That's why Taria chose this scenario for her story. In a story about softball this word and its immediate derivatives can express any of the following: Greetings How the fuck are you? Immensity Look at the size of that mother on first base. {fucker understood} Insignificance That little fucker can't hit for shit. Dismay Safe? The fuck he was! Trouble Well, I guess we're fucked now. Aggression Fuck you! {brings automatic ejection and a fine}. Safety Don't fuck with the big mother on first base. Disgust Fucking Celeste! This review is stupid! Confusion Where the fuck is the ball? Synonym for "very" This story is fucking good. Difficulty I don't understand this fucking game. Despair "Fucked Again by Celeste" by Mike Hunt. Argumentation You goddam motherfucking son-of-a-bitch cocksucker! {And I don't like you either!} Fraud I got fucked by the umpire on the third strike. Incompetence The umpire fucked up again. Distraction He was fucking with a fan behind the dugout. Displeasure What the fuck is going on here? Disbelief That was an unbefuckinglieveable call! Disbelief, dismay, confusion, etc. Fuck! What's my wife doing in this bar? Inevitable defeat We're fucked! {because the other team is fucking good!} Retaliation Up your fucking ass! {automatic ejection and fine}. Paradoxical impossibility The umpire can go fuck himself! {But how?} Telling time The game didn't start till 8-fucking-o'clock. Physics I can't hit the fucking curve ball. Maternal instinct-- Goddam motherfucker! {automatic ejection and fine}. Sexuality Holy fuck! Where did you learn to do that? Taria's best use of the F-word is her double-entendre reference to Mr. Hunter as a "pretty sneaky fuck." On the downside, her most serious faux pas was saying that Mike gave her cunt the two-finger Boy Scout salute: the Boy Scout use three fingers - ask a girl scout (obviously, because their salute is with three fingers also.) Taria doesn't write quite like Mike Hunt, but who does? This is both an excellent parody and a superb story in its own right. Ratings for "Soft Ball" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Marie" by Friar Dave. When she was a little under 11 years old and had a body that was a bit advanced for her age, Marie made an important discovery. She could become close to and even have sex with nice men, and she could turn them on and still have them treat her right, and it could be fun and sweet and pleasurable and not hateful or hurtful or scary. The problem was that soon she loved sex, and she was used to getting it pretty much when she wanted it. And she was often horny as hell. To use Marie's own expression, she was making Lolita look like a nun. Marie's initial sexual contacts were with boys near her own age. She quickly graduated to more mature boys and to adult men. Once she had experienced the more mature partners, she lost interest in younger boys. She progresses to numerous hot, sexy adventures. If we accept this as fiction - a nice story - then we're OK. If we look at it as a case study - which is the format the author uses - then our choices are to regard this story as either (1) a very unusual set of circumstances or (2) a far-fetched fantasy. The FACT is that there is an overwhelming tendency for girls who become sexually active this young to have adult lives that are at best far below their potential at and worst just plain miserable. I have worked with kids who have been sexually active. I am not talking about "kids" who get married and start a family when they are 17. I am talking about kids who start having constant sex when they are under 12 years old. In general, when they become adults, they have no idea what real love is about. They've lost their childhood. They almost invariably either drop out of school or just sit in a desk until the law permits them to leave. They enter into a series of shallow sexual relationships as adults, and they almost never have what a sensible person would call a stable family. My guess is that by their fiftieth birthday half of the kids I have known like this will be dead after an unhappy life. I also serve as an informal counselor to a large number of well- adjusted teenagers (by being the sponsor of various organizations), and my impression is that the sexual experiences of these kids begin much later in life. Articles and case studies published in scientific journals confirm my perception. It's possible that I'm getting a biased sample in my real life contacts. I work with kids who are dysfunctional, and so maybe I just don't see the well-adjusted kids who have been having frequent sex since they were 11 years old. It's POSSIBLE that the world is full of wonderful children like Marie who become sexually active before they turn 11, who are never sexually exploited, and whose lives are not permanently screwed up because of their early sexual experiences. These kids would not come to my attention, because they look like normal kids and don't advertise the fact that they're fucking one another's brains out when I'm not looking. It's also important to note that even with the dysfunctional kids it may be the problems in the rest of their lives that lead to early sexual behavior rather than vice versa. What I most emphatically want to say is that I do NOT believe that any of you readers who started your sexual careers at a really early age are necessarily scarred for life because of this. On the other hand, I hope you have the honesty to admit that maybe life would be better were it not for some early problems and mistakes. Marie discovered early in this story that sex could be fun and sweet and pleasurable and not hateful or hurtful or scary. I learned the same thing from my mother and from the happy environment in which I grew up. Mom didn't let me look at porn magazines when I was really young, because they would "give me a wrong impression of sex and love." My father and mother were very affectionate in front of us, and I knew that someday I might get lucky and have a similar relationship. She knew what kinds of movies I watched and casually offered me advice, including the encouragement to "save myself" for somebody I truly loved. I had a full childhood and a happy athletic career in high school; and I cannot imagine my sex life being much better than it is right now - except when I get interesting ideas from these stories. My advice to my own daughters has been similar; and had I ever suspected that one of them was engaging in precocious sexual behavior I would have done what I could have done to lead her to a more adaptive lifestyle. Having stated my personal philosophy in the previous paragraphs, now I'll say that this is still an excellent story. It's "realistic" in the sense that these events COULD happen to a person that would grow up to be a normal, functioning adult. And if you read the whole story, I think you'll discover that Marie's eventual opinion of her life story is not all that different from my own. The story is also just plain enjoyable - even to a person like myself who would discourage such behavior in real life. I have close friends and relatives who adamantly insist that anything that's immoral, unwise, or unrealistic cannot be enjoyable. That's just plain stupid. When I watch Star Wars, I don't worry about the impact on their families of killing the storm troopers of the Evil Empire. When I watch a movie about a clever bank robbery, I don't worry about the fact that such activity would ultimately influence how banks would operate and probably cause hardship for families with marginal incomes. Get real! It would be fun to rob a bank and get away with it (although I would never do it and it couldn't really be harmless in real life), and it would also be fun for a 12-year-old to pull a train with a bunch of friendly 16-year-olds. Not wise, perhaps, but certainly fun. Some people cite this as Friar Dave's best story. I liked "Inger" better, but this one is still an excellent story. Ratings for "Marie" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Catty Corner" by Sue ([email protected]). I loved this story. So many writers on a.s.s. can describe hot sex; but Sue has the knack of putting it into the context of a really creative story. This one comes with a double whammy - a voyeur watching a voyeur and then the voyeurs watching each other. I just resolved earlier today to be a little rougher in my ratings. I also resolved to give my husband a break from passion tonight. Oh, well; there go my resolutions. Ratings for "Catty Corner" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "The Black Box" by Emerson Laken-Palmer (Reposted by [email protected]). Guest review by Anne747. I'm trying to think of a way to review this story without giving away the plot. So, I'll say the story is about mind control with a twist. I guess I don't get the point of mind control stories. The biggest charge I get out of sex is knowing the other person (or people) want to have sex... and with me. Oops, since we're talking about stories, make that with each other. A magic box or special powers just don't seem all that sexy. When you meet someone that might not want you, well, the fun part is getting them to the stage where they do want you. The slow seduction can be a great thing. It can be hard to translate this well into an erotic story. Having a `magic' solution just seems like an easy way out of explaining the scene, and making it more realistic. Don't get me wrong, this isn't really a bad story. You will have to read it to see what I mean about the twist. I should mention that it's also an interracial story. The narrator wonders about his own racist attitudes at times. The thing is, I wonder if a black woman would ever shout, even in the throes of lust - "Lick my nigger pussy, white boy!" I suppose the answer is you never know. There is a lot of overkill on the description of the woman in my book. However, I know this is put in to emphasize the black/white relationship. Ratings for "The Black Box" Athena (technical quality): 9.5 Venus (plot & character): 8 Anne747 (appeal to reviewer): 8 * "Rain" by Mark Aster ([email protected]). "Doesn't it get boring - all the time with the same guy?" That question came not from an a.s.s. pervert, but from my teenage daughter a few years ago. My answer was, "You would expect it to get boring; but surprisingly, no - not so far." I raise the same question every time I read another story in the "My Friends the Allens" series; "Isn't this going to get boring." I mean, all the author ever seems to write about is this wonderfully hot stud traveling with and servicing two well-adjusted and well-endowed young nymphomaniacs. The sex is almost invariably hot and consensual. It's gotta get boring some time. But not yet. In this episode, Our Hero reclines on a beach with one of the Allen sisters, while they watch another couple initiate and consummate passionate sex nearby. Naturally, the voyeurs get turned on as well and make passionate love themselves, as a gentle rain begins to fall on them. The description, the environment - the entire picture evoked in my mind as I read this story was really beautiful. Another excellent story! Ratings for "Rain" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 * "Rain" by M.M. Twassel ([email protected]). "An orgasm is "like winning all the Nintendo games at once." Those words are spoken by an 18-year old girl to an 11-year-old boy while both of them are watching from seclusion as two couples make it on the nearby beach. The author has taken the story entitled "Rain" by Mark Aster, which I reviewed in the last issue of CR, and has introduced the perspective of the young boy and the other girl watching from a nearby sand dune. I don't want to tell you much more about the story; you should read it for yourself. It's a really sensitive and sexy story of emerging sexuality. Although its title is "Rain," it's listed in the postings as "More Rain." Ratings for "Rain" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of adult fiction and is not intended for minors, nor for any persons likely to be offended by explicit erotic content. Distribution in any area where possession may violate laws or community standards is likewise prohibited. The author retains copyright for this work; you are hereby granted license to download, print, and/or archive this work for personal use only. License is not granted to archive or publish this work by any means in any publicly available archive, or physical form, except ASSTR, without the author's prior consent. This story is different to my other postings to date, but hopefully still enjoyable. You may read it and think yes another fictional tale etc etc. However although it's not all true, significant elements are, I'll leave you the reader to think on which they may be. If though your curiosity gets the better of you, please do email me and ask/guess. The whole point of writing is to interact with ones readers, and although the download stats from ASSTR show how many people have taken the time to check on my poor ramblings I would like to hear what people think and just as importantly, feel about what I write. As ever my email address is [email protected]. Enjoy and maybe I'll hear from you soon. MF Cuck ? I had known from an early age that I was not completely "normal" as a preteenager whilst my schoolmates were running around playing football and fighting I was at home raiding my mother's underwear drawer. At such a young age I couldn't explain either the rationale or the feelings I experienced. I was too young to achieve an erection never mind masturbate, but I knew for sure that wearing lacy knickers and stockings "felt nice." I should perhaps add at this point that the fact that they were my mother's underthings was an irrelevance except in so far as they were available; the opportunities for a nine or ten year old adolescent to rummage through other women's clothing were few and far between believe me! As I matured and discovered the pleasures of masturbation I did occasionally wank off whilst wearing knickers and stockings but to be perfectly honest the urge waned and in truth I moved from wanting to wear a women's underwear to just wanting to fuck one. Whilst the desire mounted and intensified the opportunities just didn't seem to be there, although believe me it wasn't for want of trying. Then Charlotte entered my life; the niece of a family friend she was only fourteen (I was by then a callow but still virginal seventeen) tall, willowy and with gorgeous long red hair. Over the next few years we had an on again off again relationship which to my intense frustration was going absolutely nowhere except for the odd kiss (no tongues) and cuddle. I was head over heels in love with Charlotte and not just because she was gorgeous; we got on well together, had a similar sense of humour and enjoyed many of the same pastimes. She in contrast was always much less fervent and made it very clear that although she liked me a lot she wasn't in love with me. Her family situation was difficult, regularly placing unreasonable demands on her that meant I could not be her priority. When Charlotte finally went off to University in the same city as me, the opportunity was created to spend more time together away from her family and hopefully for me finally to get into her knickers - and at the time I did mean this figuratively not literally. Whilst I knew that she had a delectable collection of underwear - I had been on shopping trips with her for the very same - I had at that time absolutely no desire to wear it, I wanted to go beyond it to what lay within. As the proud possessor of a driving license and more importantly and rarely at the time, a car I was able to offer to assist in Charlotte's move into University accommodation. Cynically I thought that this would hopefully gain a quick entre into her bedroom and then, as a natural progression her bed. Although it was not quick it did finally come to pass, and for the first time I saw my gorgeous girlfriend naked. I'd always hoped that this would be as part of an erotic striptease where the so far hidden delights of Charlotte's body were slowly revealed. Her shy nature and demeanour meant the reality was more of a quick disrobe and a dive under the bedclothes. The brief glimpse was, however, more than sufficient to confirm that she had a beautiful body, small but perfectly formed breasts and a slit covered in the merest haze of red to match the flowing locks on her head. Finally it was about to happen, after four long and frustrating years I was going to be making love to my perfect girl, boy was I wrong! Having also disrobed rapidly and slid into bed next to her Charlotte dropped a bombshell, "I don't want to get pregnant and I don't trust any contraception so we're not going to do what you want, we can kiss and hug but that's it - understand?" I don't know which deflated more quickly my ego or my erection; for sure it was a close run thing. Now you may find it hard to believe bit it's the truth, we spent the night locked in a passionate embrace with lots of kissing (still no tongues) and even some breast fondling (they felt even better than they looked) but with Charlotte's legs metaphorically and for the majority of the time, literally, crossed. As we progressed through her first year at University she did unbend slightly and after a time I was allowed to progress and finger her cunt and even move onto cunnilingus. Whilst pleasurable in themselves both these activities also became ever more frustrating; despite the fact that Charlotte's cunt was regularly dripping wet and twitching she would never go the final yard and orgasm, (although I have to say without wanting to boast I genuinely believed that I was becoming a great cunt licker.) So there I was with an obviously highly sexed gorgeous girlfriend who for some reason was not prepared to let herself go completely and come. I should have realized at the time the reason why but it was to be several years later before I came to fully understand this intense reticence and the reasons behind it - but more of that later. Obviously throughout these intense but frustrating sessions of not quite love making I too was becoming heavily aroused and frustrated. Imagine my surprise one night then when having gone down on Charlotte for what seemed like hours, or at least until my tongue was completely numb I moved back up the bed and snuggled in for our ritual cuddle only to feel the delectable touch of her hand traversing across my stomach and heading towards my aching prick. Although it was very tentative the next thing I knew was that my darling's hand was touching my quivering cock and slowly moving my foreskin back and forwards. It wasn't the best wank I've ever had but believe me when I quickly came on her hand it was unbelievably pleasurable. This sexual activity continued through the University year although the number of times that Charlotte's hand travelled south to wank me was infrequent to say the least, when it did happen though I was blissfully ecstatic. By this time I was now twenty one and still technically and literally a virgin! Whilst I was happy and in love with my gorgeous girlfriend and knew that I wanted to go all the way I also knew that it wasn't going to happen any time soon with her. I should perhaps add at this point that I did not just accept Charlotte's no penetration/no contraception edict unquestioningly I had on occasions reached the point of being poised at her entrance and only one small push away from taking her fully. Each time we ended up in this position, and she was always dripping wet at the time so arousal/lubrication was not an issue, Charlotte would always say, "it's your decision but if you do we'll be finished." She was the love of my life how could I possibly do the one thing that would lose her to me?? I didn't want to lose my gorgeous beloved (and she was) but boy did I want a fuck too, believe me twenty one years of pent up frustration is way too much! I guess that's how I found myself at a Christmas party getting drunk with a trainee chiropodist called Maxine; she was all over me and obviously more than willing to go all the way, but for that night I remained chaste and true to my darling. However in the New Year it was my birthday and I got very drunk with a bunch of mates, my last conscious imprecation to my best friend had been to make sure he got me home safely. I woke up to a blinding hangover and an intense blackness, where the fuck was I?? As I turned over in the bed I was in I saw the smiling face of Maxine beaming at me from a sleeping bag on the floor. Oh fuck what had I done?? "It's OK she said you were very drunk last night so I brought you home and put you to bed how do you feel?" I managed to grunt something completely unintelligible as I gazed round at the matt black painted room with fluorescent stars twinkling on the ceiling! I needed a pee and quickly. As I moved out of the bed I realised that I was completely naked, "don't worry," said Maxine, "your clothes are over here, I had to undress you and put you to bed." This was not getting any better, "need the bathroom," I mumbled as I stumbled out of her bedroom. Several cups of coffee and a large bottle of Tizer (world's greatest hangover cure) later I was starting to feel passably human and had been able to piece together the events of the previous evening. My mate had disappeared off to the bar to get a round of drinks at the same time as I had succumbed to the amount of alcohol I had consumed and slumped semi conscious in my chair. Maxine had seized the opportunity and dragged me (I presume literally) back to her place The rest of the day passed in a daze of severely bad hangover and further sleep, in my own bed I hasten to add. Not wishing to appear churlish I had invited Maxine round to dinner the next evening, I was a passable cook and it was the least I could do wasn't it? And so it came to pass that after dinner and a cheap bottle of Beaujolais I took Maxine to bed and tried to fuck her, and I use the words advisedly. Whilst she was no stunning beauty, she was reasonably attractive (I know that's horribly sexist but it's true) and very horny, she wasted no time in removing her and my clothes and, sinking down to her knees, took me in her mouth - this was my first blow job and I should have been ecstatic but all I can remember thinking was that I'd rather it was Charlotte's hand - callow or what? Cupping Maxine's face in my hands I lifted her up from my cock and kissed her passionately, whilst simultaneously moving my hand down between her legs. I couldn't believe how wet she was, there was an absolute torrent pouring from her cunt. I moved the flat palm of my hand against her mound and began to gently rotate it allowing my middle finger to ease tantalisingly into her sopping wet slit as it passed six o'clock on each rotation. Although I had never been able to make Charlotte come, my experience of masturbating her was at least coming in handy (no pun intended). As my confidence grew, assisted greatly by the pants and moans being emitted by Maxine I decided that it was time to test my cunnilingual skills on someone else too. I eased Maxine down onto the bed and wasted no time in diving between her legs and heading mouth first towards her cunt. Now I think I said earlier that Charlotte's slit was covered with a fine gossamer film of wispy red hairs, the contrast of Maxine's hairy twat was sufficient to put me off my stride (lick!) albeit only briefly, but I did have to explore with tongue and finger to confirm exactly where and how her clit protruded etc. After this brief stumble I was eating Maxine with all the skill and practice that I had developed on Charlotte. My second surprise was soon to follow, after what seemed like only a couple of minutes I could feel Maxine's cunt twitching and her legs tightening around my head as, at the same time, she screamed that she was cumming. Good grief I could do this to Charlotte for hours and maybe get an "mmm that's nice," as a response but never anything like this. Grabbing my head from between her thighs she pulled me up and said, "I don't even want to know where you learned to do that it's wonderful, but I need your cock in me now. Where's the condom?" Well this was it after twenty one years I was finally going to do it; my cock was going to experience its first journey into a sopping wet cunt. I quickly rolled the condom onto my prick and began to nudge up between Maxine's legs. Now my complete inexperience was exposed and I couldn't find the entrance, cue moment of extreme embarrassment when Maxine asked, "how can you be so good at sucking my cunt but not be able to find your way in, anybody would think that you were new to this!" If only she knew! To my everlasting gratitude she then reached up and guided my cock into its destination and that was it, I'd finally broken my cherry and was actually inside and fucking a woman. I should have been ecstatic but to be honest it didn't feel any more than a bit nice, if I wanked myself the feelings were better, and on the occasions when Charlotte deigned to touch my dick the sensations were exquisite by comparison. It's bound to get better though I thought as I began to ease in and out of Maxine, maybe it's just the latex barrier deadening some of the sensations. After ten minutes it's safe to say that it hadn't improved for me but I had made Maxine come twice more. After about half an hour things, from my perspective, were getting even more difficult. In my desire to increase my own stimulation and feelings I had increased the rate at which I was fucking Maxine until I was pounding in and out of her cunt like a mad man. As far as I could tell for her this definitely seemed to be effective her vocalisations would no doubt have woken the whole house by now as she had had three more orgasms. My problem was more prosaic I was absolutely knackered and no closer to cumming than when we had started. What the fuck was I going to do, as Maxine came again, I did the only thing I could think of and just stopped buried to my balls in her twitching cunt. As her eyes fluttered open she asked, "did you come too? That was brilliant." What could I do but lie and say yes. Whilst my cherry breaking fuck had hardly been a success, the fall out was potentially, even worse. Charlotte had not come out for the evening of my birthday she did not drink at all and was never comfortable watching me getting hammered. The problem was that a number of mutual friends had been in attendance and I couldn't rely on them all being drunk enough not to have noticed that I'd been taken home by Maxine. Unfortunately one of the people at my birthday session also knew Charlotte very well, she approached me several days later to say that either I owned up as to what had happened or she would tell Charlotte herself. Although as far as Carole was concerned I'd only been taken home by Maxine she was blissfully unaware of our subsequent fucking etc. this was still bad news. After a couple of days of consideration I knew that I had to broach the subject with Charlotte, better that she hear it from me than a third party. The initial response was as bad as expected and certainly no less than I deserved, but after a night of tears and me sleeping on the floor we seemd to carry on regardless. Over time though it was clear that the relationship was badly damaged and as I graduated and moved to London we drifted further apart. I met other women but none could hold a light to my darling Charlotte and I heard from friends that she was seeing a guy called Thomas and that it was fairly serious. I knew him vaguely and thought he was a tosser but I guess in our different ways that made two of us. Time passed and life moved on. I said at the start of this piece that Charlotte was the niece of a family friend and although over the next ten years she and I met only once at a family wedding, I still maintained contact with her aunt and uncle and received updates, albeit irregularly as to what she was doing. My own life ran through a series of ups and downs, a short marriage where the sex in my wife's eyes was good (I think) but to me was mundane and unexciting followed by a couple of unsatisfactory short term relationships with other women. Thus I found myself as a single thirtysomething with a good job, lots of international travel, but a gaping hole in my life and no idea how to fill it. To this day I still don't know whether I believe in fate or some other higher influence but whether it exists or not I couldn't believe as I walked down a street in Manchester who was walking towards me; it was my first and only true love, my darling Charlotte. We greeted each other with pecks on the cheek and agreed to meet later that evening for a drinks and dinner catch up. We met at a local restaurant and, although it had been an awfully long time since our days together at University and the break up that followed, we slipped quickly into a conversational warmth and intimacy that brought flooding back the memories of all the good times that we had had together. Charlotte's relatives had obviously kept both of us apprised of developments in the other's life, jobs house moves etc, but their knowledge was extremely superficial so we had an awful lot of catching up to do. I knew that Charlotte had bought a house with Thomas several years ago but I wasn't sure how strong the relationship still was my information, via Charlotte's aunt, was that he had another place in the south of England and spent all his time down there. After some gentle (and I hope subtle) probing Charlotte confirmed that the relationship was over, and that they were looking to sell the house and she would buy somewhere new for herself. Again was this fate intervening; after ten years of nomadic work driven wandering around Europe and America I was now looking to relocate back to the area to spend more time with my parents. Dare I even think about the possibility of rekindling the relationship? Over the next few weeks we stayed in regular contact, telephone calls, drinks, dinner etc and it seemed like the passed years had never really occurred. We were slipping back into a comfortable relationship, but of what nature and duration, that was the sixty four thousand dollar question. Eventually I plucked up the courage to broach the whole subject with Charlotte, "you know I've always loved you and still do, it's probably coloured all my other relationships, we get on really well together is it possible that we could have a long term relationship." Hardly wooing at a Shakespearean level I know but at least I overcame my nervousness and asked the question. The ensuing silence seemed to stretch for eternity, but was probably only seconds, the reply when it came was not quite what I expected, "maybe, but we'll have to agree the rules," she replied. Was this good news or bad? "What do you mean the rules?" I replied. "Well you remember at University that we were intimate together, well that's OK still, but you have to promise me that you'll never want to go all the way and fuck me." I couldn't work out which bit of this sentence was the more surprising to me, the intent or the fact that she had used the word fuck. In all our time together apart from the odd bugger and shit when things had gone wrong, Charlotte had never used coarse language, and in truth we had never actually talked about sex directly either. To say I was stunned at this point would be an understatement of epic proportions; on the one hand I was being offered the opportunity to spend the rest of my life with my first and only true love, but could I live with the conditions - no fucking for the rest of my life? Keeping the pressure on, where had she learned all this? Charlotte then added, "don't take too long to think about it, this offers got a short life to it, either you want to be with me or you don't." "Yes," I replied, "I do." "What about my other requirement, are you sure you can live with it? It won't be negotiable in the future you do understand don't you? and don't even think about finding another slut like that Maxine to play around with on the side; either I'm enough for you as I am or you get none of me," I responded the only way I could, "yes I do understand and accept your conditions." So that was how nearly fifteen years after we first met I moved in with my gorgeous darling Charlotte, and this is where my story really starts! I approached our first night together with more than a little trepidation, I wanted to please Charlotte however she wanted but I also needed relief myself and it obviously wasn't going to come from intercourse. As we undressed that first evening I was delighted to see that Charlotte had clearly continued with her regular gym and exercise routine and that her body was as trim, lithe and goddamit sexy as I remembered it from ten years ago. With a swirl of the duvet, Charlotte was as quickly into the bed and covered as she had been that very first night that we spent together at University. Easing in beside her I took her in my arms and kissed her gently on the lips and then her breast. As my hand moved down towards her slit she breathed in my ear, "remember your promise, fingers and tongue only ever!" I groaned but nodded my compliance. After ten years away I had not forgotten the budding shape of her clit as it peeped shyly from its little hood of skin at the top of her slit. Experience also told me that a slow start caressing her inner thighs and just brushing over her cunt was much more likely to generate a response, and maybe even an orgasm (well I could live in hope) than a full frontal assault with finger fucking etc. After ten or fifteen minutes of gentle caressing and stroking of thighs and circling around her slit massaging the outer regions of her mons I could feel Charlotte's cunt juices beginning to flow around my hand. At this point I began to use my middle finger to circle around her clit with irregular but deepening dips down to penetrate into her cunt. As my finger opened the way and delved deeper I was stunned to realise that it was beginning to push against an internal boundary. I couldn't stop myself blurting out, "Jesus you're still a virgin!" Well that obviously blew the mood completely, how could I be such an idiot and fuck things up for a second time? Charlotte looked at me and said quietly, "yes I am, and the reasons for that are mine alone. You agreed to the rules and they're not going to be changed." "but, but..." I spluttered, "you and Thomas were together for nearly ten years, didn't you ever, well obviously not..." I continued digging myself into an even bigger verbal hole. "What I did and didn't do with Thomas is none of your business," was the brusque response. "My relationship with him is personal between him and me and none of your business. Yes I am still a virgin, I intend to remain that way and again the reasons behind this decision are mine alone. I suggest that you go and sleep in the spare room and maybe we'll talk in the morning." A very sleepless and frustrated night ensued, me and my big mouth, how could I have been so stupid, after ten years I had won back the love of my life and on our first night back together I'd fucked it up and lost her. The next morning I heard Charlotte go downstairs and I quietly followed her down expecting to receive my marching orders as I entered the kitchen. Imagine my surprise then to be greeted with, "good morning did you sleep well? We need to go to the shops this morning and stock up on food etc. I haven't forgotten how good a cook you are so you're on dinner duty tonight, OK?" The rest of the day continued in a similarly surreal state of complete normality. As we headed up the stairs to bed at the end of the day I naturally moved back towards the spare room, "where are you going silly, you're in here with me." Was all that Charlotte said. As we snuggled down together she looked me in the eye and began to speak, "this is very difficult for me and I will never be able to repeat it so listen carefully. You know I hate losing control it's just not acceptable to me, It's why I don't drink as you well know. I really enjoy the way you touch and kiss me but I can't let myself go and orgasm for you or anybody else, I might enjoy it too much and that can never happen. If I allowed you inside me I suspect I could not hold back. With tongues and fingers I've learnt that I can control my body to take pleasure but not let go. Now please just hold me whilst we go to sleep I really enjoy our closeness and feeling your warmth by my side." Over the next few months I kept replaying those words over and over in my mind, I had always assumed that Charlotte was somehow afraid of sex maybe even that she had experienced some level of abuse at an early age, but it never crossed my mind that she could not accept the loss of control that an orgasm brings. Now I knew, what, if anything, could I do about it. My thoughts wandered back to our days at University and the times that I had been poised with my cock at the entrance to her cunt only to be told that if I pressed ahead (or indeed in) everything would be over. Did I now have the bottle to take the risk and what would be the outcome if I did?? After several weeks of turmoil I made the decision to try, hell all I had to lose was the love of my life! The next evening I had been eating Charlotte's cunt for more than an hour and from the flow of juices and the relaxation of her body I could tell that she was approaching her self imposed pleasure limit. Moving back up her body and kissing her on the lips I positioned my raging hard cock at the entrance to her body. She immediately stiffened and I could feel her outer cunt muscles tightening around the head of my cock. "You promised," she hissed, "don't you dare go further. Come up here and let me touch you instead." Well what could I do? I have to say the wank was wonderful; Charlotte had definitely got better at it over the years - although I didn't really want to think about whom she had learned it from. As time passed we continued in what even I can see was a peculiar sexual relationship, but I was happy. Then over time I began to resent the situation, was it possible for me to continue indefinitely without penetrative sex or heaven forbid a blowjob. Even though the number of times in any given period that my darling wanked me off had increased markedly; at the end of the day the whole of my sex life had been subsumed into me giving oral and digital sex whilst receiving regular wanks. Was this where I wanted my sex life to be? Then came the fateful day; over a period of months as my frustration mounted I had started to wank myself off when Charlotte was not around. This had started prosaically enough, lie on bed and use hand etc. Then I had googled masturbation and found that there was a plethora of pleasurable options out there; The Mushroom Method, Upward Squeeze, Campfire Method, Hands Free Pelvic Grind and dozens more (Author's note - these are not the product of a fertile - or indeed febrile - mind, all are genuine!). As my interest in improving the quality of my solitary pleasures increased I began to consider other ways to increase the sensations associated with my wanking. Inevitably my mind was drawn back to my adolescence and my furtive trialling of my mother's underwear. As I said at the beginning of this ramble the thrill for me was not from some Oedipal connection, but simply I liked the feel of wispy materials against my skin. So began my experimentation with wanking whilst wearing items of Charlotte's lingerie, I started simply wearing lacy knickers with my cock sticking out of the waist band for relief. Over time this progressed to also wearing her suspender belts and stockings and even bras whilst wanking. The sensations of silky materials against my skin and, in truth, the forbidden/furtive feelings all enhanced my solitary masturbation sessions greatly. My relationship with Charlotte outside our bedroom grew and deepened over this time, with the (substantial) exception of our differing sexual needs/desires we were a well matched couple and deeply in love. Whilst I would like to think that the depth of feelings we had for each other would always have been sufficient to sustain our, albeit slightly peculiar, relationship alas we'll never know, as things changed dramatically that fateful Thursday morning. Although my work still demanded a lot of travel I did have the opportunity to spend periods of time working from home. These periods were also my opportunity to dress up in Charlotte's knickers etc and wank whilst she was out at work. I had kissed and waved her goodbye that morning with a raging erection in place, she had been busy at work so our nocturnal activities had been even more subdued than usual as she was so tired. As soon as I had seen her car turn the corner out of sight I raced back upstairs and stripped naked in the bedroom. With that familiar guilty flutter in my chest I then opened Charlotte's lingerie drawer and surveyed the delights within, my cock twitched as I touched my favourite lace panties, but today was a day to indulge so I would go the whole hog with a pair of silky stockings and a suspender belt as well. As I slid the stockings up my legs and clipped them to the suspender belt my excitement was mounting and my cock was getting even harder, I moved onto the bed and began to stroke my prick through the bulging lacy material of my favourite knickers. Easing my cock out of the waist band I began to use the material to glide slowly up and down the length of my cock - ahh bliss. As I continued to stroke my shaft I reached for a conveniently placed tube of lubricant and dipped my finger in. Easing aside the gusset of the panties I continued to wank my cock whilst slowly inserting my lubricated finger into my arse. I have to say at this point that anal penetration had been a relatively new experience for me but one which I had discovered added greatly to my masturbatory pleasure. So there I was kneeling on the bed in stocking suspenders and lacy knickers wanking myself stupid with a finger up my arse and Charlotte walked in! To say that I was surprised would be an understatement of vast proportions and my dick was deflating rapidly at the totally unexpected and extremely embarrassing interruption. My incredulity though was further extended when I heard Charlotte say, "no please don't stop I want to watch, you're obviously enjoying it very much." At these words my cock seemed to react far quicker than I could mentally assimilate the words and promptly hardened and protruded stiffly back out of Charlotte's panties. Given this reaction I did the only thing I could under the circumstances - I carried on. As I stroked my prick and continued to finger fuck my arse I knew for sure that I would not last very long, but any misgivings I may have had about cumming in these circumstances were rapidly overcome by the wave of pleasure that coursed through my body. With a shuddering groan I came spurting jism everywhere and experiencing the best orgasm of my life. As the waves of pleasure subsided I opened my eyes and looked directly at Charlotte. To this day I have no idea of what reaction I was expecting - shock, horror, anger maybe, imagine then my surprise to see the smile on her face and then to hear her words, "that looked wonderful darling, I'm glad you enjoyed it so much and thank you for letting me watch it too." What the hell was going on here, I've just been discovered in a seriously compromising and perverted situation and my darling virginal girlfriend is thanking me. My confusion continued as Charlotte then said, "why don't you clean yourself up and then we can talk. You can leave my underwear on though if you would like to!" Well I wasn't going to argue; five minutes ago when she had walked in on me I had assumed that everything was over, but now I had absolutely no idea what was happening. As I returned from the bathroom having cleaned off the cum that I had sprayed and dribbled on myself I found Charlotte sitting on the bed gesturing for me to join her. I had of course followed her other instructions and was still wearing her stockings, suspender belt and knickers, as I sat down beside her she reached across and hugged me and in truth my confusion deepened as I heard her say, "don't look so worried this is the best thing that could have happened for us!" "You've always known that I'm a control freak, I find it difficult to let myself go in any situation and sexually I've always found it impossible. If I'd ever let you, or Thomas, make me orgasm or god forbid fuck me senseless, then I'd have been totally in your thrall and that just cannot happen. Had you ever gone that extra mile - or even six inches those times when you were just nudging up to my cunt then you would have had me literally and metaphorically forever, but I'm glad that you never had the balls because this is going to be just so much better." At these words a tumbling of emotions swept over me as I assimilated what I was being told? I was a wimp who should have just gone ahead and fucked her then she'd have been mine forever and why was this (whatever this was) going to be so much better, and for whom? "In my own way I do love you as much as I know you love me, but I've always been afraid that my limitations to our sex life would ultimately drive you away. You will never know how much you hurt me when you went off and fucked Maxine, but I also knew that it was partly my fault as I didn't want to give you what you wanted and for sure you were too much of a wimp too take it. Today though I've seen something wonderful, now I know your guilty dirty little secret and from what I could see you seemed to enjoy it all greatly. Although I can't be totally certain I suspect that you got more pleasure from the situation and especially my watching you than from fucking somebody else, am I right?" I could only nod dumbly in agreement. "Good, so now you're all mine forever and I'll never have to worry about losing you to some wet and willing cunt will I." This was definitely a day for for gobsmacking surprises, I had never heard Charlotte use this sort of language and intonation all I could do though was nod my head in agreement with everything she was saying. "Well I'm glad you agree with me so let's agree a new set of rules - firstly the old rules still apply, I still want you to touch and eat me and if you're really lucky I may even wank you. In future though you will be allowed to dress up like this and play with yourself whilst I watch, but only when I give my permission. However we're going to go and get you some underwear of your own, I'm sick of finding my panties stretched and out of shape, did you really think I wouldn't notice and then try and catch you out!" So that was how my guilty secret had been discovered, Charlotte's return today had not been random chance after all and although I was now never going to get to fuck my darling girlfriend I just knew that I was going to enjoy these new developments in our peculiar sex life. Two years on and time had proved that my thoughts at the time were prophetically correct. I was now the proud possessor of a drawer full of sexy underwear and at least once a week I got to dress up in these wonderful garments and play with myself. In the early days Charlotte's involvement had been limited to watching and providing the odd observation that I seemed to be enjoying things. Very quickly however her controlling nature asserted itself and I found that everything from my underwear selection to the exact method and timing of my masturbation was being directed and controlled by her.. One area where she had pushed my boundaries further than I had expected was with regard to anal penetration. Having found me that first day with a finger up my arse I was pushed (well a little bit but mostly willingly) to go further and over time I built up a collection of vibrators and dildos that I would insert whilst wanking. My absolute favourite scene was to be dressed in stockings and suspenders on my hands and knees on the bed with a buzzing vibrator fucking my arse doggy fashion whilst I used my thumb and forefinger to ease my foreskin back and forth. Charlotte knew that this position was intensely exciting and pleasing for me but would take great delight in not allowing me to cum for extended periods of time. She became expert in recognising the onset of my orgasm and ordering me to stop stroking myself and just squeeze the shaft of my cock tightly until the feelings had subsided. Needless to say the vibrator buzzing away against my prostate made this exquisitely difficult to take, but she was my Mistress and I could only obey. True to her word Charlotte also still allowed me to pleasure her with my mouth and hands on occasions too. It was still a delight for me to lick and suck at her gorgeous cunt and taste her heavenly juices and I had long since learned to ignore the frustration that I could not make her orgasm. Perhaps it was the infrequency of these acts or maybe just the fact that I was a typical slow male, but it took me a long time to realise during these sessions when I got to touch and stroke Charlotte that she was no longer virgo intacto. The day that this realisation dawned on me I was horror struck but, remembering the adverse response last time I had commented on her maidenhead, I managed to control myself and continued to gently digitally massage my darling's cunt walls until she stopped me saying, "that was very nice but I'm sleepy now, goodnight." From my side a sleepless night ensued, dozens of pictures were flashing through my mind mostly involving my gorgeous girlfriend being fucked senseless and allowing herself to lose control, but with whom? Over the next few days my imagination ran riot as I mused on the possibilities of who was fucking Charlotte. I knew that it would never be a one off event. She herself had admitted that she was capable of losing herself in an orgasmic frenzy and that once the control was gone she would be in total thrall to the cock that pierced her. My mind ranged over the obvious candidates, her boss at work, the gardener, the next door neighbour, even a couple of our friends. The truth was though I had absolutely no idea with whom she would have let herself go, in fact I still couldn't believe that she had, but the evidence was quite clearly there (or in fact not) to feel. I knew that I had a significant decision to make, I really wanted to know who Charlotte was fucking and why but I didn't want to lose her again, she was the love of my life. My alternative was to say nothing and maybe never know. There was of course a third option, turn detective and see if I could discover for myself who had taken my girlfriend and so I began to snoop. I'd follow Charlotte to work and check to see if she made any diversionary meetings, then in the evening I'd try and catch her leaving the car park and follow her home. After several weeks of this sleuthing activity I could only conclude that she was better at avoiding my tailing than I ever would be at following her, this wasn't going to work. Plan B was then to observe her whenever we were with other people, and specifically in male or mixed company. I was sure that even if Charlotte was good at hiding her emotional involvement - and my experience was that she was brilliant at hiding her emotions full stop - but it was unlikely that her partner could not continue to be equally discreet. We met friends for dinner and drinks over the next few weeks and still there was no indication as to who my darling's secret lover might be. The only time I had even the slightest speculative self questioning was when I saw Charlotte one morning touching the arm of Dan our very large, very black gardener, but I was being stupid wasn't I, there's no way she would go there, was there? More time passed and still no clue as to who the secret lover was, I couldn't help noticing that Charlotte was more relaxed generally though and that her physical responses to my finger fucking and pussy eating were just a little bit more responsive - or was this just my imagination? Our life continued as "normal" for several more months until one evening in bed as I was stroking and caressing Charlotte she turned to me and said, "you know don't you?" Playing dumb (but badly), I responded, "know what darling?" "Don't play the idiot with me," was the prompt reply, "you may be many things including a knicker wearing wanker, but I know that you're also very intelligent and observant so don't piss me around. I know that you have realised that my maidenhead, my virginity, is no longer intact, you might think that you've been subtle about it, but believe me I have noticed you rooting around in there trying to find it!" Well how could I respond, denial didn't seem to be a particularly strong approach, especially given Charlotte's accurate summation of my recent and as I wrongly hoped, tactful, searching for her hymen. Truth seemed to be the only option left open to me so here goes, "yes my darling I couldn't help but notice that somebody had taken your virginity. I've been out of my mind for weeks trying to work out who, why and what it means for us," I replied. "Well they're easy questions to answer," was the immediate retort, "who is none of your business, why is only my business and it means nothing for us unless you want it to." Whilst at this point I'd like to be able to report that my masculinity asserted itself and that I'd taken serious umbrage with the first two parts of this reply, the truth was that I was so relieved about the third element, i.e. that we could still continue if I wanted to, that the rest of the sentence although raising far more questions than it answered, went unquestioned in my mind at least at that time. I was further diverted by Charlotte then saying, "look I know it's been more than a week since we last played your game (this was how we now described my panty wearing masturbation), and I'm sure your very frustrated. Why don't you go and put on those nice new grey silk panties and I'll watch you play with yourself." Of course, as usual she knew which buttons to push, and how could I refuse. So ten minutes later I was kneeling on the bed wearing some gorgeous grey silk knickers and a matching bra, whilst stroking my cock to a throbbing climax. Charlotte was just too good at this, she had that unerring sense of how to distract my attention, although on reflection it probably wasn't too difficult. Although the short term diversionary tactic worked fine it wasn't long before I was again deep in contemplation as to who was fucking my girlfriend and even more importantly why she had finally succumbed to somebody else's cock. It was no good I couldn't let it go I was going to have to ask her the question, if that was the end of the relationship then so be it! After a typically normal evening, I had cooked dinner and we had retired to bed where I had eaten Charlotte nearly to orgasm yet again I couldn't hold back I just had to know the truth. As we lay cuddled together I bit my tongue and then just went for it, "look darling I know you have told me it's none of my business but I can't help it I need to know who you have been fucking. It's not just that I'm jealous, although I am a little bit, but you know I'm happy with our sex life and I don't know.... I just need to know," I tailed off. My expectation was for a prompt and vigorously negative response, as ever I was surprised to be hugged and told, "I'm really sorry Ian I never meant to hurt you. You know how much I love you and would never want to hurt you but this is different... I don't want to spoil what we have but I can see that you will not stop asking so here's the deal, once - and only once I'll allow you to meet my lovers and watch me with them. Then you'll know and we revert back to how we are now, is that a deal?" Oh shit, she hadn't said lover it was lovers plural nor had she said it would stop once I had seen "it" happen, what the fuck was I going to do. The reality was that I knew that I had no option but to acquiesce. The not knowing was crucifying me anyway; whoever they were the not knowing was worse. "OK," I replied quietly. "I'm sorry," was the retort, "I'm not sure I got that, did you say OK?", "yes I replied," still quietly. "Right well I accept your decision but you need to be very clear in your own mind how this will be. I will let you see me once, and once only, in action with Dan and Rabbit, you will not interfere, you will not be allowed to participate and you will never question my sexual activities again. Do you understand?" Through this torrent I could only focus on one thing the, name Dan, my darling Charlotte was fucking the gardener and presumably some friend of his with the stupid nickname Rabbit. For a moment I was tempted to say no, but Charlotte was always a better poker player than me she knew I'd agree albeit grudgingly what else could I do? My next few days were tormented by thoughts of my gorgeous girlfriend being ravaged by our black gardener and his anonymous friend with the stupid nickname. How on earth had this happened, I knew that deep down Charlotte was a very sexual being but I could never envisage her losing control especially with the gardener. How on earth had he managed to engineer a situation where it was even possible? Two days later when she came home from work Charlotte sat down beside on the settee and said, "OK tomorrow is the night when you see me with my lovers. I know you've agreed once but I need to hear you say it again. This will only happen once, I will make sure that you cannot be involved and you will never see it happen again, do you agree?" Confused, frustrated and excited though I was I couldn't help noticing the change in wording, this time Charlotte was saying that she would make sure I could not participate. What the hell did that mean, I'd be on a video link, see pictures only or what. As ever she was ahead of me and I could only agree yet again. The plan was set I would return from work the next evening at about six o'clock, I would go straight to our bedroom and undress then sit in the armchair in the room and wait for Charlotte to arrive. The suspense over the next twenty odd hours was exquisite, I couldn't believe how aroused and excited I was about even the thought of seeing my darling girlfriend finally let go even if it was on the cock of our gardener. I returned from work early the next evening and could hardly contain myself as I went straight to our bedroom and undressed. There were no signs of Charlotte's presence, or indeed her lovers, although Dan's truck was parked at the end of the street portending things to come?? As I sat in the arm chair and waited my imagination ran riot and my erection grew to, for me, epic proportions as I sat and daydreamed about what was to come. All of a sudden the bedroom door swung open and Charlotte entered the room, "I see you were back early then, couldn't wait for the show huh?" was her first observation as she walked in and saw me naked. "No knickers either, good boy I haven't yet told you which to wear, I'm glad to see that you haven't forgotten the rules even if the circumstances are different." Truth to tell I had been so turned on by what I was expecting to see that it had never even crossed my mind to dress up in my lingerie. I was more than hoping that the eroticism of what I was about to see would not need any knicker wearing enhancement. "OK, first of all I want you to put on the grey silk pair, and the matching suspender belt and stockings - I know you adore them and I wouldn't want my lovers to see you at anything but your best." Oh shit, not only was our gardener going to fuck my wife whilst I watched, he was also going to see me as a knicker wearing wimp as well! But how could I refuse or stop now I had to know and see what was going to happen and who was fucking my darling girlfriend. I moved to the chest of drawers that contained my lingerie and quickly dressed as I had been instructed. "You look lovely Ian," Charlotte said, "but now I need you to sit back down in the armchair, and then you remember your promise, so I'm going to handcuff you to the arms of the chair so you cannot interfere." Without demur I co-operated and that dear reader is how I found myself handcuffed into an immovable armchair wearing grey silk knickers, stockings and suspenders waiting to watch my girlfriend get fucked by our very large black gardener. Five years previously I'd have given you long odds against any individual element, the totality would have been unthinkable. As Charlotte checked the security of the handcuffs she apologised simultaneously, "I'm sorry about having to do this but I have to be sure that you cannot interfere. Oh and by the way I don't want you to watch my preparations so I'm going to blindfold you as well. I promise it will come off before the action starts." I was hardly in a position to argue, once the blindfold was in place I heard Charlotte leave the room to collect her lovers. Although my brain was telling me that t his was all wrong, my cock was in violent disagreement, my erection was harder than I had ever experienced and I knew that I would come at the slightest touch. I heard Charlotte's footsteps as she returned but despite my best efforts I was unable to hear or sense the movements of either Dan or Rabbit (and yes it's still a stupid name!). Over the next few minutes I could hear some slight noises but nothing that I could pin down. As my anticipation heightened I heard Charlotte speak, "thank you darling for your patience, I know it's been very difficult for you and I do know how much of a reflection of your love for me your submission tonight is, I love you too." At this my blindfold was removed, the lights were dim and as I gazed around the room I was struggling to make out who was present, I could see Charlotte standing naked in front of me, but no more. "I know you love and adore my body, you have spent so much time worshipping it for which I'm more than grateful, but tonight you're going to see it receive immensely more pleasure than I could ever allow you to give, but hopefully you'll understand why afterwards." Although I heard the words I still didn't understand, as far as I could tell Charlotte was still the only other person in the room, where the fuck was Dan? As these thoughts were passing quickly through my mind Charlotte stepped back, turned to the bedside table and then recrossed the room back to where I was captive in the chair. Holding her hands up in front of her she said quietly, "I'd now like you to meet my friends Dan and the Rabbit." What the fuck was she on about we were the only people in the room and what was in her hands. Realisation dawned very slowly (again probably a male thing) in each hand was a vibrator, the one on the left large black and veined (presumably Dan) and in the right a rabbit straight out of the sex toy catalogue. As the realisation dawned Charlotte looked at me and smiled, "oh surely now, you didn't think I was fucking the gardener did you?? That would be way too obvious and you know I've always been a class act!!" Tempting though it is to end the story there, I hope readers that you are still keen to hear more so don't let me disappoint. "I've told you before that I am afraid of my own sexuality, I know that if I was made to come it would be unbelievably good and that I'd be forever beholden to whomever made it happen - that loss of control is unacceptable to me. I can also now tell you that I've always enjoyed and been heavily aroused by your finger fucking and eating my pussy but could not allow myself to go all the way. As our relationship has developed, I've really enjoyed watching you masturbate and fuck your own ass, the realisation finally dawned that I could do something similar to myself without losing control. So this is where I am. When I want to - and it will only ever be my decision, I can use these toys to bring myself off beautifully. I do lose control during the orgasm, but it's me that decides when it happens and how and with the exception of today, as I promised, nobody else will ever even see it happen. Would you like to watch me come?" All I could do was nod dumbly, my emotions were in complete turmoil my gorgeous girlfriend was still mine alone, she wasn't fucking the gardener, but she had found a way to satisfy herself sexually that meant I'd always be the wanker wearing panties. Could I live with myself being cuckolded by a pair of vibrators - damn right I could. At my affirmative signal Charlotte moved back and lay down on the bed, as her hands moved down her body I could hear the low humming as she started her two friends vibrating away. She used the large black vibrator to stimulate her nipples whilst the Rabbit in her other hand travelled quickly down between her legs. I was amazed to see how quickly Charlotte was getting aroused her beautiful body was starting to squirm around on the bed as she used both vibrators on herself. Turning towards me she licked her lips and said, "now you'll see why I could never let you or Thomas fuck me." At this she moved the large black vibrator down to replace the Rabbit between her legs. As she gently eased its length into her cunt I was surprised at how easily she accommodated its length - she had obviously had lots of practice. With only the end protruding I saw Charlotte's hand reach down and turn the base of the vibrator increasing the speed and the sound from a gentle hum to an incessant buzzing. The effect on her body was electrifying. Her spine arched and I could see orgasmic spasms wracking her body, even more surprisingly was the vocalisation of her orgasm. Despite my best (and I like to think they were quite good) ministrations the most I had ever been able to wring from my darling's lips was the occasional hum of pleasure. As she was fucking herself with this vibrator she was screaming incoherently as her orgasms crashed through her. At this point I came myself spewing jism all over my silk panties as an orgasm as big as Charlotte's wracked through me. As we both began to come down from the post sexual highs that we had experienced I couldn't help but think what would have happened if I had had the bottle to fuck Charlotte all those years ago. If a plastic vibrator could bring her this much pleasure how much more would a real cock have produced; was it possible that the tables could have been turned? Instead of becoming a knicker wearing wanker could I have been the possessor of a genuine fuck slut of the first order - we'll never know now will we??

Change Part 3 Author: tyleranne Title: Change - Part 3 Story codes: slow, FF, cd, m-solo (c) 2016 This story is a work of fiction and the author does not condone any sexual activity without a persons consent. If you are offended by stories of this type, are underage or live in a jurisdiction where reading these stories is prohibited, please do not read any further. 10:45am 10/03 Hope unlocked the door to her office and unceremoniously dumped her purse on the office chair. She donned her white lab coat, pulling her still damp hair out from underneath the collar and headed into the lab. Mornin Doc, several voices said, in unison. There were 3 lab assistants working at various stations in the lab and Hope greeted each, Good morning, Summer! Hiya James. Hi Lauren. How much longer til the baby comes? You look about to pop! Hey Charlie. Hows Caleb doing? Whens the cast come off? Receiving appropriate answers from each, Hope settled at her lab station in front of the big microscope. She genuinely liked each member of the staff and kept up with families and boyfriends, etc. The staff liked their boss tremendously and that she always had their backs. It wasnt always true of every lab director at St. Michaels Laboratories. Dr. Kerry had a great reputation among the lab assistant community and each assistant had specifically requested to be assigned to her area and competed heavily behind the scenes with others to get it when openings had become available. Hope had no time for office politics nor assistants that couldnt hack the workload. She asked, no demanded, a lot of her team. It wasnt that she was a slave driver, obviously, or nobody would have wanted to work there. It was more about results. Failure was tolerated, research was all about trial and failure. Dr. Kerry required very detailed notes and the back-up analytical detail documenting the experiments conducted. Everything was written down. Woe betide the lab assistant that failed to be able to defend his or her experiments lack of notation. It was Hopes ability to defend her assistants unsuccessful experimentation to senior management and the fact that she would kill unpromising research rather than cater to the pet projects of the senior staff that endeared her to the assistants. Good morning Dr. Kerry. Ummmm, about your note, a voice behind her said. Turning around, Hope saw that the interruption was none other her newest lab assistant, James Tyler. Before answering, Hope appraised the young man. He was sandy haired and wore it a tad longer than was currently fashionable for men and normally had it done up in a pony-tail. James wasnt much taller than her 54 and maybe outweighed her by 10 pounds and his emerald green eyes peeked at her from behind old fashioned horn rimmed glasses. Truth be told, James sparkling eyes somewhat unnerved Hope, almost as if he could look into her soul. Unbeknownst to her, James felt similarly when her dazzling blue eyes bore into him. Thinking she was waiting for him to begin, he stammered, Uh-uh, ummm, I meanum, I looked at the rats and took samples, and umwellIm not sure, um, but did they get put back in the same cages last night? I mean, cause um, Babar and um, Celeste...um, well, theyre in the wrong cages, maam. Im sorry James, what do you mean, Babar and Celeste? Well, you see, uh.I, uh, kinda named the rats. What you know as J6D-21037 is Babar and -21038 is Celeste. And uh, well, maam, Babar is a male and uh, Celeste is the female. I uh, named them after the, uh, the elephants in a book I liked as a kid. So you see, like, um, when I went to draw blood for the hormonal test and the results showed that uh, Celeste was in Babars cage and vice versa, replied the very nervous assistant. Oh. I see. Well, Im sure thats my fault. I was in working late and must have simply swapped cages by mistake. I was kind of tired when I left. Anyway, Ill be conscious of that going forward, replied Hope. James stood there, mesmerized. He drank in her beauty and lost himself in the moment as he studied her lab attire and thought about what she was wearing underneath. Was she ultra-conservative? Did the outward appearance reflect the inner dress, or was it quite the reverse? It was a game he always played when looking at attractive women and could feel his biological reaction in his khakis. Seeing the glazed look in James eyes, Hope prodded, James. Was there something else? James. Earth to James Snapping back to the here and now, James realized that Dr. Kerry had been moving her lips. Oh, my, Im sorry maam, my bad. I was in Barbados just then, he said, recovering from his daydream. What did you ask me? I said, was there anything else you needed? Oh, no maam. I-I-Im good. Okay then, lets both get back to work. Ill be cognizant of the rats from here on out. Now, scoot. Uh, yes maam, he said as he scuttled back to his workstation, a shy blush coloring his cheeks. Hope thought about the exchange with her shy assistant. Its interesting that when addressing me, its always Doctor or maam. Its much different than the other assistants, theyre not always so deferential. I wonder what it is with him, she pondered. I think I need to look at his complete file right after the department heads meeting. Glancing at the clock, Hope saw it was about time to head upstairs as the meeting would be starting in just over an hour. Grabbing her laptop and her purse, she fumbled getting the keys out to lock her office. She could feel the anticipation as she locked her private office and headed upstairs. Inserting her badge to confirm access, she pushed the button for the 8th floor, where the executives had private office suites and where the board room was located. The elevator doors opened with a quiet rumble onto a plush hallway with thick blue carpet lining the corridor. Turning right to go down the hall, Hope entered the guest washroom. Each executive had a full, private bath adjoining his or her office, but this washroom was provided for guests and the department heads, when they were on the 8th floor for meetings. Stepping into the first stall, lifted her skirt, slid her white silk La Perla Merveille thong off as she sat and peed. Wiping herself, she slipped the thong into her purse and exited the stall. Although she never wore much make-up, much preferring her natural look, Hope touched up her lipstick and mascara. Looking at herself in the mirror she nodded once, replaced everything in her purse and left the washroom and down the hall towards the executive suites. Knocking on the third door, with the nameplate A. Townsend, she heard, Come in. Entering the office, she began, Sorry Im running behind, but, Ms. Townsend, I do want to let you know that Ive made an unanticipated breakthrough that youre going to want to listen to. Closing the door, she took a seat in the right-most brown saddle leather chair, a pair of which were arranged in front of a large mahogany desk sparsely cluttered with work to be reviewed by the offices occupant. The door to the private washroom slid open into the recess of the wall. In the doorway stood a goddess. The tall woman was dressed all in black, a Cadolle Dreamcatcher Garter Tank, matching silk thong and silk stockings attached to the tanks garters. Her feet were adorned with what looked to be black Jimmy Choo round-toe patent leather pumps with a 5-inch heel. Her hair fell to just above her breasts and it was brushed to such a high sheen that it looked fluid as it swayed back and forth as she approached Hope. The cups of the bustier pushing her generous breasts up tantalizingly with the rest of her expansive chest tinted by the see-through neckline and tulle straps. A patch of lace detailing allowed a peek at her trim waist. Well deal with that later. I need a kiss first. Ive been on a plane and in airports for the last 20 hours. God, I hate traveling to Jo-burg, I always feel wrung out when I get back. Rising from the chair, Hope tilted her head up and closed her eyes as the other woman reached out to caress her face as she towered over her. The woman bent closer. Lips met. The womans expensive perfume wafted up and Hope drank in the enticing scent of her sometimes lover. They softly kissed, but the hunger began to overtake the pair. Greasy lipstick smeared greasy lipstick as the women kissed more deeply, tongues emerging to dance with the others partner. Hope reached behind her to unzip her gray Phillip Lim skirt letting it fall in a puddle at her feet. Still embroiled in the passionate kiss, she began to unbutton her cream colored draped-silk blouse, but her partner grasped her hands. No, Ive been waiting for 3 weeks to be able to do this. Let me, she said, as she kicked off her pumps, reducing her height significantly, although she was still taller, allowing her to look into the deep blue of Hopes eyes, without Hope having to strain so hard to look up at her. Slowly, button by button, she opened Hopes top, teasingly slipping her fingers between the folds of cloth and gently massaging the exposed skin of her chest. As all the buttons were unfastened, she drew the slippery cloth down over Hopes arms and left her standing there in nothing but her white Chantilly lace bra covering her small breasts. A quick snick and Hopes breasts were released. As she felt her lover removing the last scrap of clothing from her body, she felt warm breath on her left boob and then a moist tongue flicking at the hard pebble of her now-erect nipple. She began to massage her other breast while her left hand began to wind its way through the silky black tresses of her partner. She spread her legs wider as soft finger tips played over her hip, brushing back and forth ever closer to her pussy, now leaking with her desire. Guiding Hope towards the edge of the desk, she urged her, Up on the desk honey. I have to taste younow! Hope scooted her bottom onto the desk and lay back, spreading her legs to offer herself to the gorgeous creature ready to worship the pussy so lewdly displayed. She began to knead her small breasts, pinching and tugging on her nipples, which sent a surge of pleasure to her wet core. The first touch of the womans lips on the soft skin of her inner thigh sent a bolt of lightning straight through her now-protruding clit, which caused the supine girl to shiver in response. Light licks and soft kisses drove Hope to cease her self ministration of her chest and to grasp the head of the woman giving her immense pleasure and direct her to her wet tunnel. Oh godyes. Right therelick me right there, she pleaded. OhI love you Amy. Mmmmmmngh. Ngh. God, Ive missed this! Amy Smart Townsend smiled at her lover and placed her mouth on Hopes dripping pussy, directly covering the cleft and wiggled her tongue between the flowering lips of her lover. Her right hand snaked under the waistband of her own dampening panties and found her clit. Diddling herself gently, she continued to lick Hopes pussy. Starting at the bottom of her cleft now, she took a long, slow swipe up to the top of Hopes wet slit. Back and forth, she drew the flat of her tongue along the path, finally settling on the opening of her vagina. Curling her tongue she poked it in and out, fucking the moaning girl with it. Hope was in heaven! Her lover was home and was making love to her pussy, something shed been looking forward to for the better part of 3 weeks. When Amy slipped a wet finger into her puckered ass, it tipped Hope over the edge and she fell headlong into a gushing orgasm. She pulled Amys head closer, mashing her lips against her pussy as wave after wave crashed into her. Finally, spent, she sat up and pulled Amy into a deep kiss. Hopes tongue searched for hers as she tasted herself on Amys lips. The strong flavor of her cum was rich in Amys mouth and she felt like a drunken man in search of another drink as she probed her mouth. She began to rise from the desk and seat Amy on the desk to return the favor and give her release. Amy broke the kiss and, out of breath, panted, EnoughOh my god. Enough. If I let you do anything to me, Ill drop over with exhaustion and Ive got to be at the meeting. You too. Im already going to have to change my panties, theyre soaked! Weve got to get cleaned up and cant go into the meeting smelling like were fresh out of a brothel. Hendricks would flip his shit if he thought wed been at it. As they went into the private bath, Amy handed Hope a wet washcloth with which to remove the sticky evidence of her orgasm. As she began to clean between her legs, she saw a lipstick mark on her inner thigh, a nice imprint of Amys lips. Smiling to herself, she cleaned up everything but that, savoring the reminder, thinking of the naughtiness of what would remain below her clothing, unknown to all of the other senior leadership that would be present at the meeting. Oh, by the way, what did you want to tell me about this breakthrough that you discovered? she asked Hope. Waling nude out of the washroom, Hope retrieved her panties from her purse. Slipping them on, she slid them up her shapely legs and nestled the elastic sides in the crease between her thigh and pubic mound sending a slight shiver up her spine as her fingers scraped the lips of her still-aroused pussy. Fastening her lace bra and settling her boobs in the cups to ensure a proper support, she looked back at Amy, bent over at the waist searching an open drawer for fresh panties. Gazing at the luscious ass presented to her, she haltingly stated, Well, you know um, you know how, umm, how Mr. Hendricks is all up in arms about this whole bathroom flap and his corporate directive to follow the lead of North Carolina. Patrick Hendricks being the CEO of St. Michaels Laboratories. Yes, the old bastard is so uptight about anything related to sex, its a wonder he ever had 2 children. I mean, hes so medieval about the whole sex thing, besides his misogyny, he thinks LGBT people should be imprisoned. Its insane. So, what does that have to do with anything? Were in the vaccines business. I wonder what would happen if he got to experience life as a woman? asked Hope, letting the question hang in the air. Right. Like I could see him a dressnot happening, chuckled Amy wryly. Hope looked out the office window off towards the horizon and said wistfully, But, what if he could? I mean really experience life as a true woman. So, youre going to get old man Hendricks a sex change operation, and do so in a way that hes a willing participant and agree to the surgery? What dirt do you have on the guy? No, no dirt. Just science. With that comment she glanced knowingly at Amy and raised her eyebrows. Ho-ly sh-it! You mean you discovered a method of inducing a spontaneous sex change? You clever little bitch, she gasped admiringly. With a sly smile, Hope simply nodded. Oh. My. God. Were going to be filthy rich. Damn, just imagine the possibilities. Adjusting gender to fit the psyche. A cure for gender dysphoria, perhaps a treatment for rapists; allowing them to experience the helplessness of their victims. There are a million things this could accomplish, said Amy, now thinking like the pharmaceutical executive that she was. Hold on there. Lets back up the bus. Ive proven this can work with rats, but its still a long way from human trials. We have to look at it in more complex mammals and in primates before we can go there, cautioned Hope, now sounding like the researcher that she was. Im going to need your backing to get the necessary details accomplished, FDA paperwork filed, not to mention getting Board approval. Feeling like her bubble had been burst, Amy responded, Well, shit. Well never get Hendricks approval. This goes against every principal he holds dear. Thinking deeply, she continued, Hmm, lets think a minute. As the exec in charge of all research activity, I can grant conditional approval on all work thats done prior to FDA notification. Who else knows about your discovery, and what do they know? First of all, as you know, my whole team has been engaged in research on the H1N1 virus. Seeing Amy nod her head, she continued, Its well known in nature that some species of tree frog have the ability to spontaneously change sex. You remember they used that concept in the first Jurassic Park movie, right? Again, Hope got a head nod and a mumbled assent. Okay, clown fish also have the ability to do so. In a mated pair, if the female dies, the male will change sex, becoming female, and mate with an unpaired male. We modified the H1N1 virus with genetic material from female clown fish to see if that would change the behavior of the virus to be less virulent when introduced to a host. We did the same to a separate batch of the virus, but this time we used male clown fish genetic material. Let me guesshis and hers designer vaccines? Yes and no. Let me explain. We werent looking to see if the modified virus with the female material would make a less virulent strain within females. We just wanted to see if one or both versions resulted in a less virulent strain overall. I started with two rats and injected both with the same virus strain. What I didnt know, at the time, was that the rats were different sexes. I gave it 4 hours and then euthanized the pair, noting the date/time on the audit log we keep documenting the status of all live animal experimentation subjects. Looking at the card, I noted they were opposite sexes. I dissected both subjects and it was then that I noticed that internally, I had a male and a female. When I went to the log to record the disposition of the subjects, I noticed what I though was a discrepancy. The first one I dissected was female, yet on the card, the sex was recorded as having been male. The same was true for the other, male, yet the card was for a female. I thought it odd and went back to verify that, in fact, the first subject was female. As you know, we have to keep very detailed records and we keep meticulous records so we dont accidentally switch subjects between experiments. You are also aware that all of our lab rats are genetically identical, they have to be for us to conduct repeatable scientific experiments. Males are the same as every other male and the same is true for females. When I checked the paperwork from the supplier, sure enough, the documentation certified the sex of the first rat as male. Again, who knows about this and what do they know, prodded Amy, trying to figure out who needed to be reminded of their Non-Disclosure Agreements. Im the only one who knows about the sex changes. Theres more though. I made the discovery when I conducted the vivisection, which was yesterday morning. I also measured the hormone levels and the rat I thought was male had higher than normal androgen levels and the female had higher than normal estrogen levels. I made the notations in my private notes and, after everyone was gone, last night I conducted some additional experiments. I tried to see what would happen if I used the male version of the virus. No changes. No increased hormonal activity. So, the virus has the pussy power then, joked Amy. Ha ha, Hope responded dryly. It gets better. I wanted to see if it was possible to reverse the change. To turn them back. Could we induce a reversal? It turns out we can! I made the switch using the female version, which Ive titles Type A and then documented the change on video. Its quite pathetic, watching their little bodies go through the seizures. She shuddered at the memory. But I gave them an analgesic in later experiments. You know me, a total softie. Aware of the pain in Hopes eyes as she described the process, Amy gave her a hug and said, Youre a total softie, which is part of the reason I love you like I do. Brushing a stray tear, Hope explained the next steps. Once the sex change was complete, I measured the hormonal levels, and as before, androgen levels were higher than normal in the new male and in the new female we saw a corresponding high level of estrogen. I injected them with the male version, Type IIA, and low and behold, they changed back! Ho-ly sh-it! Im stunned, gushed Amy. Imagine my surprise then! I went through the process with several more pairs and came up with the same results. I also forced the change and reversal several more times. Ive documented everything completely in my private file so you can read for yourself. I went home about 3am-ish and left a note for my staff to monitor the hormone levels of the subjects. And before you ask, no, they dont know anything and no, they arent suspicious of anything. Interestingly enough, the high hormone levels are only temporary and go down over time, at least according to the data I saw when I came in. The only mistake I made was with the first pair I returned to their cages. One of my lab assistants mentioned it this morning, but he passed it off to me neglecting to put the right one back in the correct cage. What exactly did he say? Amy was concerned at this revelation and wanted to understand what the assistant thought they knew. It was very cute. James Tyler, thats the assistant, actually named the rats. The pair that were mis-placed were named Babar and Celeste. Hes so nervous around me, its amusing, but I digress. He said that when he was measuring the hormone levels, he noticed that in Babars cage the rat was female, according to the hormones and vice versa. He said that it was probably a mistake. I told him it was probably my fault and that I would be more diligent in the future when returning rats to the proper cages. Theres nothing to worry about. Okay Hope, just be more careful next time. We cannot afford anyone finding out about this. Weve got to keep this under wraps. Whats next? What do you need from me? Eyes half-closed, a sexy smile appeared on Hopes lips. Seeing the sultry expression, Amy laughed, Down girl. No time for that right now. We have to get in to the meeting in a few minutes. Pouting, Hope responded, Okay, but Im going to want to return your earlier gift very soon! Dont worry, I expect full payback! Amy turned and put on her black and white hounds-tooth jacket and matching skirt. Buttoning the jacket, the see-through neckline of her Dreamcatcher Garter Tank was visible, softening the severe cut of her Dior suit. Together the women left Amys office for the boardroom and the senior staff meeting. Friday, 11/19 5:50pm Standing in front of the floor to ceiling windows that made up the entire outer wall of her office and staring out at the last rays of daylight painting the clouds with a mural of colors reminiscent of Claude Monet, Amy thought about the file on the desk in front of her. Ever since Hopes revelation about her sex change drug, shed seemingly thought about nothing else. In her quest for absolute secrecy, she had ordered corporate security to conduct surveillance on all of the employees that worked in Hopes lab. Under the auspices of a security review, the reason for which, all the lab employees were told, was that a federal contract was possible and everyone would require top secret security clearances due to the nature of the work, psychological testing was done and profiles created. Looking down at the contents of the file, she scanned the results. There was nothing spectacular about anyone in the lab, save one person. Yes, the others had little skeletons in their closets. Summer Davidson had gotten pregnant by a professor in college and had an abortion paid for by the then-married instructor, but was otherwise of nothing concerning. Lauren Provosts husband had a plethora of speeding tickets. Charlie Etheridge and his wife were fairly normal people, but their son Caleb had been in a motorcycle accident and had been under the influence of marijuana. Charlies brother was a police officer and was able to suppress the DUI evidence, the paperwork having been lost. It was the details surrounding James Tyler that had Amy pondering the sunset, details of the file wandering through her brain. James Tyler, age 25, bachelors degree in Microbiology, and a masters in Biomedical Engineering, both from Landrith University, one of the top schools in the southeast. Stellar grades and in his first year of employment with the lab. Hed had 2 internships during college, the last of which at St. Michaels culminating in an offer of employment after graduation. Third of three children to Dorothy and Herman Tyler, James had 2 older sisters, Judith, 37 and Rebecca, 40. Herman, it seemed, left the family when James was 2 and has had little contact with his children since, the exception being the period when James was in middle school, for a period lasting approximately 6 months, according to the psychiatric appraisal. Outside of those 6 months, James was otherwise raised by his mother and sisters. He currently resides alone at an apartment on the other side of the city and has no known sexual partners, male or female. His credit rating was blemish free and according to the report, he owed $82,685 in student loans, has a car payment of $189 per month and 3 credit cards, a Visa, and 2 department store cards, with limits of $9000, $2500 and $2000 respectively. His Visa shows a current balance of $1268 and both store cards have a zero balance. All in all, a man that looks to be living within his means. It was the surveillance report that contained the bombshell. James was a closeted transvestite, who dressed as a female at home. His neighbors actually know him as Jaime, according to the report. Corporate Security was not authorized for wiretaps or breaking in to look at the interior of the apartment, although they did get some photos of him/her at the mall. Apparently Jaime was very convincing as a woman, and it appeared she was accepted as such by the staff at the various retail establishments she visited on Saturday. Some of the younger men and boys who were mentally undressing her would have been shocked had they seen the surprise she concealed under the tight skirt she was wearing that day. Leaving her office building, Amy got in the car, put the top down on her black Mercedes SL550 and dialed Hope. Explaining what shed discovered, and giving Hope her instructions, Amy disconnected the call. Knowing that Hope always did what she was told, as shed done ever since theyd become lovers in high school, Amy settled into the rush hour traffic and finally, after nearly two weeks allowed the events surrounding Hopes discovery slip from her mind as she lost herself in the music of Bob Marley. Maybe Ill head up the coast this weekend and surprise Kaylee and Kristi, she thought to herself as she put sleek roadster in a higher gear to pass some slower moving traffic, her panties dampening at the thought of some naughty fun with her younger cousins. Hope, on the other hand, was still shocked at what Amy had relayed to her regarding her shy lab assistant. Even more shocking was the instruction that was given. In reality, it was more than an instruction, it was a command. DO WHATEVER IS NECESSARY TO FIND OUT IF JAMES IS MORE THAN JUST A PRETTY, PASSABLE TRANSVESTITEANDGET IT BY MONDAY. How the FUCK was she supposed to do THAT? Looking out into the lab space, she saw that James was the last one on the lab and was packing up for the weekend. She quickly came to a decision. Poking her head out of the door, she called out, James. Hold on a sec. Ill walk out with you. As she looked on, James, in a very feminine movement, swept his hair behind his ear with his left hand and looked in her direction. Sure, Dr. Kerry. Im just getting my things together. Ill wait for you. Heart pounding, Hope sat down heavily in her chair. There was only going to be one way to do what Amy had asked. She simply didnt have the time to develop a relationship and get the details that way, and so, wracked her brain trying to quickly recall the pharmacological effects of several drugs that were available to her at the lab. Hope settled on Flunitrazepam, which would provide some hypnotic and amnesiac effects necessary for her information gathering. Quickly calculating the necessary dosage, given his likely body weight, she went out of the office and said, One second James. I almost forgot that I need to log the last dosage of the drugs for the rats I used, in the controlled substance log. Ill just be a minute. She saw him nod his assent and she headed for the drug locker. She scanned the contents and found the vial of Rohypnol, the brand name of Flunitrazepam. She found a syringe and filled it with the appropriate amount, replacing the vial on the shelf and, spying a vial of Midazolam, slipped that into her purse along with a package of syringes. Locking the door, she fluffed her hair and went back to the lab. Im ready. Sorry for the delay, but if I didnt get that logged, Id forget come Monday. No problem Dr. Kerry. I totally understand. If you dont write it down It never happened, finished Hope. It was a mantra that shed drilled into her staff. I think my harping on the subject seems to have taken hold. Looking down and blushing, James replied shyly, Yes maam. I guess it has. Well, good, its important, or I wouldnt be so insistent. On a totally different topic, do you have a big weekend planned? Taking your girlfriend out to dinner? inquired Hope, secretly praying that James didnt have any plans to meet someone, which would prevent her from achieving her objective. Oh. Umwell, I, uh, I dont, um have a girlfriend. Its uh, just going to be, uh, just a boring um, weekend, he stammered in response to the personal question. Silently, the pair stepped in to the elevator and headed down to the parking level. Upon exiting, they were immediately at the senior staff parking spaces. Indicating a silver Audi A6, Hope said, Well, this is me. Hey, I just had a thought. I realized that both you and Summer are fairly new to the lab, I dont know a whole lot about either of you. Since, as you said, its just going to be a boring weekend, well start the weekend off right. Im taking you to dinner, declared Hope. Staring at him in the eye, she simply stated, Im not taking No for an answer either. Well get to know each other better and no, Im not asking you on a date. This is simply my opportunity to know one of my assistants better. Its fate! Unsure of how to tell his boss no, and not get fired, with a big gulp, James replied, Umm, o-okay. Great, hop in. Ive got a great little bistro in mind just down the road. Ill drop you back here for your car afterwards. She slid in the drivers seat, hit the button to unlock the passenger door. Hearing the click announcing the locking mechanism function, James went to the other side and got in, closed the door and fastened his seatbelt. Glancing over at Hope and about to say something, his eyes were drawn downward and he noticed that her gray skirt had ridden up to mid-thigh exposing an expanse of silky flesh. His face hot with embarrassment, he quickly turned away lest he be caught ogling his boss. He felt his cock begin to harden at the thought of what she might be wearing under her skirt. Hed become an expert on womens intimate garments, amassing quite a selection of his own, and not having seen a telltale panty line, surmised that a thong panty was what she had on.would it be black, white, or something else? He was hoping that it might be white as that was his favorite color. White lingerie screamed virginal, sexy, alluring, everything he loved to be. In fact, he was wearing white Crochet Lace Shortie panties from VS, one of his favorite pairs from one of his favorite stores, underneath his khakis. He could feel a wet spot beginning to form on the delicate lace as he imagined seeing Hopes lingerie choice. Out of the corner of her eye, a sly smile curling the edges of her mouth, Hope noticed the reaction James had to her intentional display of skin. She could also not fail to notice the reaction it caused. It was obvious to her that he was into girls; maybe this wouldnt be so hard after all and giggled to herself. Some idle chit chat ensued and before long, Hope pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. Well, here we are, she announced. James go out of the car and seeing that Hope was fumbling behind her seat for her purse, went around to her door and gallantly opened it for her. Glancing up at the unexpected pleasantry, she smiled and thanked him for being such a gentleman. She swung her left leg out of the vehicle, which had the effect of causing her already riding-up skirt to ride up even higher giving James a flash of her silky white thong as she finished exiting the drivers seat. James had hoped by opening her door he might get a peek at her panties and he was not disappointed. On instant replay in his brain, he saw the tiny string of the thong that split her ass cheeks and the plump labia that had escaped one side of the narrow gusset forming a half-naked camel toe, the plumpness of her mound pooching out the fabric above that. In the second or two that it had taken Hope to get out, the thought take a picture, it will last longer blasted through his consciousness and his mind would replay that image on an endless loop to undoubtedly fuel his masturbation fantasies as soon as he got home. Seeing his discomfort as she alighted, both in his khakis and on his face, Hope lowered her gaze and smiled devilishly. Gazing back at him after shed stood up and straightened her skirt saying, Oopssorry Jaime, I didnt mean to be such an exhibitionist. You must think Im such a slut, she joked, shrugging her naughty display off as simply an accident. Blushing deeply, her use of his femme name didnt really register and he stuttered, Oh no maam, Id never think that about you. I, uhuhumI meanummm, I really didnt uh, you know, see, ah, see anything. Youre sweet Jaime, but a girl knows when shes put on a display and when someones noticed. Its written all over your, ahhhface. This time, the use of his femme name didnt escape his notice and he blushed even deeper, panic setting in. What if she knows? Im so dead. Im gonna get fired. Shit, why did this have to happen now? he thought. Seeing his panicked expression, she went on, Have you ever been here James? Maybe it was just his fear of discovery that made him only think that shed used the masculine version of his name was the thought that crossed his over-active mind. Hmm? What? Oh, no this is the first time Ive ever been here, he replied quickly. Well, I guarantee that youll love the food. The chef here at the Dumbwaiter studied in New Orleans and he does a fabulous Etouffe! Ive never had better Jambalaya outside of the French Quarter either. Entering the restaurant they were greeted by the hostess, Happy Friday! Im Maria. Will there just be the two of you with us tonight? Hope answered for them, Yes. Itll just be us. Something quiet, if you dont mind. Certainly miss. I have a nice comfy booth over this way, she said grabbing two menus and led then to their table, a rather secluded booth in the corner. Miguel will be your server this evening and hell be right with you. Thanks, said Hope, taking her seat and indicating that James should sit opposite to her. Good lord, Im glad this week is over. I need a drink! Um, yeah. Im so happy for the weekend, he replied, glancing around. The little boys room is over there, said Hope pointing to the rear of the restaurant near the door to the kitchen. If the waiter comes before you get back, what will you have? They have an extensive selection of beers on tap as well as a wonderful wine list. Ill just have a glass of their house white. Thanks! With that, James hurried to the restroom. Once inside, he made a beeline for the larger handicapped stall. Locking the door, he dropped his trousers and began rubbing his erect cock through the lace of his panties. Closing his eyes and supporting his weight with his left hand on the cool tile of the bathroom wall he fished his circumcised cock from its confines and began to stroke the length. Pre-cum beaded at the tip and he rubbed his thumb over the helmet spreading the liquid over the head, massaging it into the spongy softness. He began to leak even more and he could hear the squish-squish as he fisted himself and the lubrication coated the entire length. Fixing the image of Hopes thong covered pussy in his mind, he began stroking faster. He felt his cock get thicker with his impending explosion. Spurt after spurt, he emptied himself into the toilet. A glob of semen clung to the knuckle of his right hand, which he brought to his mouth savoring the taste as he licked it up. He was no stranger to eating his own cum and rather enjoyed the salty flavor hed come to relish the taste of through the years. He took some toilet paper and deftly cleaned himself off so as not to leave too much to further dampen his panties. Adjusting the lacy garment, he could feel the wet spot that he left, cool against the shaft of his softening cock. A deep breath. He flushed the toilet, opened the door and washed his hands. Returning to the table he found that Dr. Kerry had ordered a bottle of La Crema Chardonnay, which the waiter had opened and already poured two glasses. Raising her glass in toast, Hope said, Heres to learning more about each other making an even more successful lab team! Cheers, he said, taking a sip of the pale yellow liquid. His educated nose detected aromas of lemon, pear and shortbread and the silky wine tasted of apples, peaches and a hint of spice. Mmmm. Thats yummy! Mm Hm. Its very nice and buttery. Its sort of my default wine when ordering for someone and I dont really know their likes. It just goes so well with a lot of different dishes. The waiter returned and asked if they would like an appetizer or if they were ready to place their orders. A well-built, handsome young man, Miguel had very Castillian features and Hope regarded him with interest when hed first stopped by the table before James had returnedyep, shed fuck him. Looking at James, she saw that he barely registered the hunky waiters presence, except to say that he was still looking at the menu. Another check in the box indicating mostly into girls. Hope topped off their wine and studied James more closely. Dressed simply in khakis and a blue button down oxford-cloth shirt, he had a very light beard growth for the end of the day, his eyebrows were darker than his sandy-colored hair, but very well thinned. She also took notice of the impeccable nail grooming as he raised his wineglass for another sip. Picturing him as a female, Hope could see that, with a little makeup Jamie could easily pass and she didnt think hed look like a simple boy-in-a-dress. As they talked, James felt the cobwebs begin forming in his head, things just feltoff. He hadnt had more than usual, but perhaps because hed eaten little, the alcohol was affecting him more than normal he surmised. It was when his vision started blurring that he started to really feel like something was wrong. He started to ask Hope something, but in the middle of the sentence, he could no longer remember what he was about to say. Hope asked him, Are you okay Jamie? Youre not looking so good. He tried to say that all of a sudden he wasnt feeling well and he should probably go home, but it only came out, Imm nuh fling goo. Inna go hmmm. He lurched to his feet, but nearly fell over as Hope rose to support him. Hope left three $20s on the table and let him lean on her as she walked/dragged him out to her car. Fishing out his wallet and house keys, she looked at his drivers license and punched the address into her GPS and set off for his apartment. The Rohypnol that Hope used to spike James wine had taken full effect and he was in a very dreamy state. Arriving at his place, Hope helped James out of the car and with great effort, helped him up the stairs to his second floor home. Opening the door into the small living area, she parked him on the couch and quickly explored the apartment. It was a fairly new 2 bedroom, 2 bath apartment that was maybe 800 square feet. The front door had opened into a small living room, which melded immediately into a dining area and three windows overlooked the courtyard/common area. A galley kitchen was right off the dining area and the opposite end of that opened onto the hallway leading back to one of the bedrooms. A bath was opposite the kitchen right off the hallway. The first bedroom was the master and it had its own bath. A second bedroom was to the immediate right of the master, but the door was curiously closed. First exploring the master bedroom, it was simply decorated with a four-poster bed, twin night stands on either side of the queen-size bed and a highboy dresser. All of the furniture was well-matched in a cherry wood finish and looked like it had come from something like a Rooms To Go store, nothing high end. A sliding glass door lead off to a covered balcony. Hope rifled through the highboy and found basic male clothing, a drawer of boxers and various colored socks, a drawer of sweaters, one of t-shirts and shorts and the top drawer contained some old watches and other male jewelry. Opening the sliding doors to the closet, Hope saw a range of button down shirts, 2 suits, 1 blue and 1 gray pinstripe, a terry bath robe and several pairs of shoes. Nothing out of the ordinary for a twenty-something man. Even the bathroom was fairly masculine with white and black towels and washcloths, generic shampoo and soap as well as a razor and shaving cream in the medicine cabinet. Hope went back into the living area and helped James back to his room. She laid him on the bed, which she had turned down before returning with him. She first removed his shoes and socks and then unbuttoned his shirt. It took quite a bit of effort to roll him back and forth to be able to get the shirt off and then the white undershirt. She was finally able to unbuckle his pants and, sliding them off his hips, was greeted by the white lace of a pair of womens panties. Ah ha! So, he does wear womens clothing, lingerie, at least. She was beginning to doubt what Amy had told her over the phone. She peeled off his lace boy-short panties tossing them to the floor. James flaccid penis was had been tucked between his legs was freed and flopped over his exposed thigh. He was devoid of body hair on his torso and legs with the exception of a small landing strip of pubic hair just above his penis. Hope imagined that when he was fully tucked, his pubic area would completely resemble a girls. Seeing his cock, a flame ignited in Hopes pussy, a familiar itch aching to be scratched. Calm down girl, she said softly to herself. Plenty of time for that later. Lets see where Jaime keeps her secrets. Already switching from him to her in her own mind, she left James bedroom to look in the room with the closed door. Quietly opening the door, almost expecting someone to be in residence, Hope peered into the darkened room. The blinds were tightly closed, backlit by the outdoor floodlights that had come on automatically at twilight so she could see shadows of the contents of the room. Crossing the open floor, Hope headed for a low table against the right wall. Switching on the lamp at the corner, the room was bathed in a soft light and she understood that this was clearly Jaimes room. The low table in front of her was her vanity with an array of cosmetics and makeup tools, hair brushes, hair ribbons and head bands, hairspray and a hair dryer. Turning around, there was a brass daybed along the opposite wall and in between was a long dresser. Next to the door leading in to the room was another door. Opening that, Hope saw that it was a small walk-in closet, and, flipping on the light, she saw that it housed a variety of womens clothing. Wire racks were stacked top and bottom on the left side and contained blouses and skirts, all neatly hung, grouped by seasonality, it seemed. A wire rack to the right held a series of dresses, long, maxi-type dresses as well as more mid-length, and two or three very risque club dresses. All in all, Hope was impressed by Jaimes style and taste in clothes, and, quite honestly, was slightly awed. Returning to the bedroom, Hope went over to the dresser and opened drawers examining their contents. Some sweaters, light tops, a few pairs of shorts were in the three drawers to the left. The 3 on the right contained some cotton pajamas, a few chemises in shades of pastels and some bathing suits, bikinis, tankinis and some one-piece suits. The top center drawer contained some rings, bracelets, necklaces and earrings. She had very conservative taste in jewelry, mostly gold and silver with a few odd pieces here and there. It was the center cabinet below the jewelry drawer that held the remainder. There were three slide-out drawers hidden behind the cabinet doors. The top drawer, the smallest, held two boxes and opening them, Hope discovered silicone breast forms in each. The forms were not very large, a size Small, according to the lid. So, not in lust with large boobs, are we Jamie? thought Hope, feeling better about her own tiny tits. The drawer also contained some medical adhesive, skin tack wipes, medical tape and some cleaning solution. In the middle drawer was stuffed with panties of all colors and styles. Clearly Jaime was a girl after her own heart a true connoisseur of lingerie! Sliding her hands into the silky, satiny pile, she pulled a few out. They were mainly Victorias Secret and some Target brands and, she saw, something called Adore Me. Hope remembered something about that and the up and coming line of mail order lingerie it represented. It wasnt La Perla, Mimi Holliday, Emma Harris, Cadolle, Fleur or Bordelle, but Jaime probably couldnt afford those anyway, at least not on James salary. She made a mental note to give James a raise, if this all worked out. She was sure Jaime would appreciate that. The bottom drawer was Jaimes bra drawer and held a plethora of bras, all neatly arranged by bra type, bralettes, racer backs, strapless, etc. Jaime seemed like a girl who knew how to care for her delicate things. Okay, now what? Shes obviously not a boy in a dress, as Amy had hoped she wouldnt be, but I need the full story, mused Hope. She went back into James bedroom and went to the medicine cabinet. Opening it, she found a bottle of Wellbutrin, a bottle of Provera and one of Propecia. The labels on the Provera and Propecia indicated theyd been filled recently. The Wellbutrin had only 6 or 7 pills remaining and had 2 refills remaining before a new prescription was due. The prescribing physician was the same on all three meds. Obviously the Wellbutrin was to treat depression and anxiety and it was only recently that Jamie had started hormone therapy. Provera was the female hormone replacement and Propecia was the anti-androgen. James had clearly decided that Jaime would become a permanent fixture. Hope stood in the bathroom staring at the open cabinet and silent tears began to fall. Her heart was breaking for Jaime, and for James, the antidepressant bottle a stark reminder of the pain and agony that James was enduring having to keep Jaime locked in her room so much. Hope realized that her discovery could possibly bring an end to that pain for so many others. Wiping away her tears, she got out her iPhone and texted Amy. James is sleeping. Im going to have a chat with Jaime. I think shes going to be key for us. A ding signaled Amys response. Bravo! Ill be home Sunday night and want all of the details of your chat with Jaime. XXOO, Me. Looking at her watch and making a few notes of some items shed need this weekend, Hope thought more about how her discussion would unfold. To be continued... Next Chapter: Jaime's Story I do hope you've enjoyed this story. Like many of the other authors, I would be grateful for positive feedback as well as constructive criticism, especially as I'm just starting out. Don't bother contacting me if you simply want to flame me or want to go on a rant. I can be reached at taclark01 at gmail dot com.

The following is an erotic fictional story written from the deep recess of my somewhat disturbed mind. To the best of my knowledge, all characters are fictional. If I am mistaken, they should contact me directly. I hope you will like the story. Sex on the 45th Parallel a Story Told at the Miller's Tale by Robert the Librarian It was the first day of summer at the Miller's Tale, a little coffee house/espresso/micro brew/hole in the wall sort of establishment in the more liberal thinking part of Seattle. The body piercing, orange hair sorts usually hung out along nearby Broadway Street. Those of us who had tastes bordering on the eccentric but didn't like advertising it to any pedestrian or motorist who happened to be passing by came to the Miller's Tale. The place is not easy to find so it's normally inhabited by us regulars and a few invited guests. On this particular first day of summer in Seattle it was raining. Here in Seattle, we tell the changing of the seasons by the temperature of the rain. Besides, summer is just a state of mind or attitude. If more than fifty percent of those present believe it is summer, then it's summer. Just like every other June 21st Tom Miller, the proprietor, was pushing his own contribution to the world of gourmet coffees, the Chaucer Coffee and Coco Cooler. Some concoction of coffee from Indonesia, chocolate, crushed ice and his own secret recipe who's content is a heated source of debate by his patrons and the local public health. My old friend Allen Parsens was sitting at a table staring into space, so I gathered my complementary cooler and headed over to him. Allen was a math teacher, nearing retirement, at a local private school, where he teaches yuppy offspring the intrinsic value of trigonometry. "A penny for your thoughts." I started. I never actually paid for a story and if he insisted on the penny I would use the excuse that is was just a figure of speech. "Oh hi, " he responded. "Quite a little party Tom's got going, isn't it?" "Yeah, but your mind is elsewhere." "That's true. I was just thinking how Peggy and I celebrated the beginning of summer one year when we younger." Allen looks down in his now empty glass and sighs. I take the hint and offer to refill it in order to keep him talking. "It was June of 1968 and I had just graduated from BYU in Utah. Peggy and I were married just a few months before, when her father caught me with my hands down her pants. I don't know what angered him more, the fact I was copping a feel or that Peggy was encouraging it. Any way it wasn't a shotgun wedding but almost. I was going to marry her after graduation anyway. I'm sorry, if I got off the story. After graduation I was offered a very nice job here in Seattle and Peggy and I decided to drive up in my new 1967 Mustang to look things over. Peggy and I decided to make a leisurely romantic drive through mostly back roads. We passed through many small towns, some nicer than others, but none like Middleton. Although Middleton's population was nearly nine hundred, only a hundred and fifty or so lived right in town. The rest of the population lived on nearby farms and cranberry fields. Middletons only claim to fame other than being a loading area for the local cranberry farmers was the fact that in sits right on the 45 parallel. They make a big deal to the fact that there little town is exactly halfway between the equator and the north pole. On June 20th we stopped at a little motel on main street (the only street almost) to rest. After a pleasant country dinner we retired to the motel. It was odd at the time, but the motel clerk, Cherry, a tall, attractive native american girl about 27 or 28, was very concerned that we leave town first thing in the morning. She was reassured when I told her that we had to be in Seattle in a few days and already had lost valuable time driving the back roads. The room's cedar walls and four poster bed I thought was very romantic. I had visions about rolling around naked on the bed with Peggy. She has such a great butt. I wanted to dive down into her red muff and give her the kind of pleasure she really deserved. But Peggy just wasn't in the mood. In truth, she hadn't been in the mood since the little incident with her father catching me with my hands in the 'co "Thanks for coming so quickly, Roy." Cherry said to the mechanic. "These nice people need to get started. They have a long way to go today." "My pleasure, Cherry." responded Roy. "How can help you sir?" he said to me. "The car won't start this morning. I guess it might be the battery, but this is nearly a new car." "Well let's take a look". Roy popped the hood and peered in. He then hooked a long set of jumper cables to his truck and my car. "Give it a try." he said to me. I jumped back in the car and turned the key again. All the car would do is give a single click. "Fraid it's not the battery. Sounds like the solenoid." "How long would it take to fix it?" interrupted Cherry. "About 45 minutes.."he answered "if I had a solenoid that would fit this car." "How long would it take to get the part?" I asked. "There lays the problem." started Roy, shuffling his feet about. "The supply truck from Pendelton won't arrive until tomorrow lunch time." "Can't you do something, Roy?" asked Cherry anxiously. "Nothing to be done, Cherry. I'll call the supply house right away to make sure the part is on tomorrow's truck. In the meantime, since there is no bus today, you are just going to have to make them comfortable and explain things to them." Roy then turned back to me and asked "Newlyweds?" "Yes" I answered. "How did you know?" "The wedding band is still shinney. Any who, make yourselves to home. Being newlyweds you might just enjoy your stay here, Mister?" "Sorry," I extended my hand to shake his."Allen Parsens, this is my wife Peggy." "Well Allen and Peggy, eh you'll find we're kind of informal around here, right Cherry." Roy winks and Cherry and Cherry displays a beautiful smile. Roy wound up his jumper cables and stored them in the back of the truck. "I'll get back to the shop now to make the phone call before it's too late. I'll see you all later." Cherry helped us move our bags back in the room and told us that the second night would be at no charge, which I thought was very generous since it wasn't her doing that the car wouldn't start. She then insisted that we join her for breakfast at the local cafe. The Middleton Cafe was just as you would expect in small town America. Small round tables with red checkered table cloths, metal napkin holders with one or more springs inside broken and a half filled bottle of ketchup sitting on the table between the salt and pepper. "The cranberry pancakes here are very good, and the eggs are all produced locally" Cherry told us as we sat down. The one and only waitress walked over to us to take our orders. She was in her early thirties and had short blond hair, blue eyes and pale skin. I clearly remember her breasts. They seemed huge. Not freak show huge or anything like that but it seemed like they were desperately trying to push their way through her cotton uniform. So when Cherry introduced her as Susan Johansen it only confirmed the allusion of a sexy Scandinavian. "Friends of yours, Cherry Hon'?" asked the waitress in a familiar friendly tone. Cherry shook her head. "They're on their way to Seattle. They were to spend one night here but there car won't start this morning. Roy won't be able to get the part until tomorrow." "Well that's fine." answered Susan with a big happy smile. "It's about time we had some new blood for the 'festival'." She then turned to us, looking us up and down. "Truly nice to have new faces." She giggles at some private joke. "OK hon', What'll have and take it sweet'ned? It's on the house today. Oh, and by the way, I'd suggest you have something a bit heavy, you never know if you will have time to catch lunch." She giggles again. She seems to do that a lot. "Thanks Sue, " said Cherry some what annoyed, "I haven't explained 'festival' yet. We'll just have the summer breakfast specials." "OK hon', but you know it starts at ten twenty five this year, that doesn't give you a lot of time to prepare." "Prepare??" both Peggy and I asked at the same time. "I will talk to them if you go and fix breakfast!" Cherry said with a bit of authority. Susan Johansen turned and left for the kitchen in a bit of a huff. As she did she walked in such a way where no one couldn't help noticing her well shaped ass behind that mini skirt. "Alright, before you say anything let me explain a bit. For the last seven years this town comes under a kind of spell or something. It affects everybody in downtown itself, but doesn't affect anyone more than a half mile out. It has something to do with the summer solstice. At the exact time summer starts, according to the observatory in Corvalis, and for twenty four hours after we all sort of....." "Sort of what?" Peggy asked smiling with excitement. Peggy was a Twilight Zone fan, and this thing about a spell had her .. well spellbound. "Well" Cherry continued, "we sort of lose all inhibitions." "Inhibitions? What sort of inhibitions?" asked Peggy. "Sexual inhibitions." announced Susan so matter of factly, as she brought our plates over to us. "That's right. We all strip naked and fuck our brains out." Peggy and I just stared in disbelief. We looked over to Cherry who just nodded. "Ah, come on. You're young newlyweds, you'll enjoy it. It's perfectly safe. Nobody ever get pregnant or catches anything, and all the older citizens of town take all the kids under sixteen on a camping trip a few miles north." Susan now turned to my wife. "You've met Roy, right? Well, you would believe the size of his.." "Thanks Sue!" interrupted Cherry. "It's really not as bad as it sounds. It's like Mardi Gras. Once a year you just let your hair down and enjoy." "How did this come about?" asked Peggy, now with a touch of righteous indignation to temper her curiosity. Cherry shrugs her shoulders, "No one really knows. Some think it's a UFO, others believe it's an old Indian curse or something. Any way, those who couldn't deal with it moved out of town or conveniently make themselves absent on the first day of summer. Those of us who are left have learned to live with it and actually enjoy it." "Isn't there any way we could get out of town for today?" asked Peggy. "We might find someone to drive you two to a nearby farm," answered the Indian beauty, " if that's what you really want?" Hearing all this really appealed to my libido and I wasn't ready to abandon town quite yet. "Why don't we mull it over, over breakfast. These pancakes do smell very good." I had two plans. Plan A was to convince Peggy to stay. I know about her interests in strange phenomenon and if I could appeal to it, curiosity may replace moral righteousness. Plan B was to delay as long as possibly until it was to late. Ten twenty five was only another hour away. The three of us ate in silence, but I could see the wheels turning in Peggy's head, struggling with the decision. After our second cup of coffee, Cherry excused herself to use the restroom. "So what do you think.?" I asked Peggy. "I think they are all a bunch of perverts!" she retorted. "Cherry said it was all out of their control." "Do you believe that? I think she made it up as an excuse." "I see. Then why don't we put it to the test. If it is an act, then we should be unaffected, right? So we just stay in our motel room until this blows over. But if Cherry is right, then we will have the time of our lives." "Allen Parsens!" shouted Peggy, "I don't believe you're condoning this..this.."then in a much lower voice "sex orgy." "Listen to yourself, you sound like your mother. This is the nineteen sixties after all." "I do not sound like my mother." After a brief pause, "You really don't mind?" "It will be an experience we soon wouldn't forget." I reassured her. When Cherry returned we announced that we would be staying if they would have us. Peggy confirmed it with a somewhat apprehensive smile. Somewhere from behind the counter a nosey waitress cried "Woppee, fresh meat!" We both gave her a polite chuckle. The three of us left the diner a little before ten. The air outside was already becoming warm and there wasn't hardly a cloud in the sky. "You know," said Cherry breaking the silence, "Two years ago it rained on this day. It just wasn't as much fun if you had to keep pushing the rain out of your face." A familiar voice came from our left. "Glad you could stay." cried Roy the mechanic. His friendly home town boy nature showing through. He had cleaned himself of all the automobile grease and grime and was now in causal jeans and a tee shirt. "I ordered the part and it will be here tomorrow afternoon. By the way, no labor charge on this one, since you're our guests and all that." Roy then presented the stunningly beautiful lady he was with. "This is Jean, my wife." Jean was about five foot three and had long blond hair that hung over her breasts like a halter top she wasn't wearing. She was tan all over, from what I could see anyhow. Her only garment was a pair of tight denim cut offs. Roy noticed me staring at Jeans nipples trying to poke through the curtain of hair. "You see, Jean doesn't need an excuse to get naked. She loves the sun on her skin." "You were right Roy." said Jean. "She is quite a looker." Jean stepped next to Peggy, her breasts jiggling. She touched Peggy's short red hair. "I love the way you've cut your hair. It's really cute. And finally, someone my own height. Most of the other women around hear are tall, like Cherry or Sue." Peggy looked a little shocked, and turned to Cherry for help. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I could do 'it' with another woman. It's just .. well...." "Don't worry, Peggy." reassured Cherry as she came over to put her arm on her shoulder. "you won't do anything that you truly don't want to do. Like I don't get into ass fucking although there are those who do. I just don't do that, and everyone respects that, however, if there is the slightest inclination in your subconscious, then.... well let's just say the first time I met Jean, I was surprised what I could do." Peggy just looked at the two women, one on each side of her, one half naked and the other with her hand on her shoulder and wondered what she would really end up doing before the day was out. Behind us Sue and her husband/cook Steve came out of the dinner. Sue called out in a sexy voice, "Could I get you big strong men to help us carry the lemonade over." She indicated a large cooler/dispenser that Steve had set down before going back in for more things. Roy and I stepped over and each of us took a handle and started walking west. As we walked Roy told me that everyone meet at the park at the west end of town. A couple of times I would look over my shoulder to see Peggy walking between Cherry and Jean. I couldn't hear what they were talking about but either Peggy was getting turned on or was almost ready to bolt out of there. It was a pleasant little park, broad trees providing shade, a slow river running to one side, and several picnic tables. We set the cooler on the table next to the bandstand/gazebo. Looking around I noticed a lot of other people mulling about. They were of all ethnic groups and of all ages (between 16 and about 55 years old). A voice called out from behind me, "Good morning compadre!" Roy and I turned to look. "Magandang umagda, Rey!" Roy responded to a short Filipino man smiling with a plate full of some sort of egg rolls, which I learned later were called lumpia. "How's your beautiful wife today? Rey, this is Allen Parsens and that over there is his lovely wife Peggy. They got stuck here with car trouble and have agreed to join us. Allen this is my friend Rey DeGuzman, and behind him is his wife Emily." Emily was a small women of thirty something years old, five foot nothing and had the deepest brown eyes and a smile that would melt any man's heart. "Oh my gosh, is Linda sixteen already?" Roy was referring to a filipina girl standing next to Emily. "You remember, Roy." said Emily "We celebrated my little girl's birthday two months ago. She's very excited but I told her she probably shouldn't start with you, this is her first time." Everyone seemed to get a good laugh out of this. Linda walk past her parents and held out her hand. God she looked young. She was a few inches taller than her mother, but had the same beautiful eyes and dark skin. I could now see small but maturing breasts under a long tee shirt that went down to her thighs. I tried to focus my gaze on her smile, after all her parents her standing right there. I held out my hand to shake hers when suddenly she reached down and pulled the tee shirt over her head and discarded to one side. She was totally nude under the shirt. I looked up and down her naked figure. She was a very thin child. No more than 90 pounds. Her pubic hair was thin in width and in density. She again extended her hand but this time it cupped my crotch. She reached up and kissed me deeply on the lips while fondling my privates. I looked over towards Peggy, hoping she would not see me with this girl, however she already had her top off and was similarly kissing Cherry who was now totally nude. I did not need to look at my watch to know it was now ten twenty five. As hot and passionate as Linda was, she lacked experience. Her arms were wrapped around my neck and one leg twisted around mine, pressing her young and nimble body tight against mine. My hands ran up and down her back relishing the cool smoothness of her naked flesh, stopping briefly to cup both ass cheeks with my hands. My senses were about to overload. Placing my hands on her rib cage just beneath those developing breast I lifted her to disengage the embrace. My heart was pounding to hard to worry about buttons and just ripped my five dollar shirt off, followed quickly by my pants and briefs all in one motion as I kicked off my shoes. Now that I was just naked as she, my young lover leapt onto me, arms around my neck and both legs wrapped around my waist, pushing her hot virgin twat firmly against my lower abdomen. Although she weighed practically nothing, I grabbed her ass to pull her even tighter. She was very enthusiastic, but it was evident she had never kissed any one before. I reached up with one hand and pulled her chin down opening her mouth. As soon as her teeth parted I pushed my tongue deep into her mouth exploring every nook and cranny in could reach. My little Linda was a fast learner. As soon as a withdrew my tongue her's darted into my mouth and began dancing with mine. She pushed her face into mind so hard I thought my front teeth would buckle under the pressure. After several minutes we disengaged long enough for her to nibble at my ear. She whispered to me, "teach me how to fuck, please!" With that statement she began to rub her fresh little cunt against my belly. I could feel the warmth and wetness in it. My dick was begging to be slammed into that young snatch. It was all I could do to tell it to wait. From behind me I heard "Let me show you sweetheart." It was her mother Emily, also naked, quietly stroking my ass and reaching across us caressing her daughters ass. "Lie down here and I will show you how to please a man." I laid down in the cool grass while Linda and her mother hovered above my naked form. Emily reached over a began stroking my erection and commented, "this is a nice sized cock. Bigger than Rey's, but not as big as Roy's. Just the right size for my little girl. Allen, do mind if I fuck you after my daughter does." What could I say. I couldn't believe this small beautiful women with the perky tits had a teenage daughter. I just nodded dumbly. "Just do as I do." Emily instructed her daughter. With one on each side of me, Emily began sucking on my ear lopes and darting her sexy tongue into my ear channel. Linda on my other side shortly followed. Next they moved down my neck, first Emily, then Linda. Once reaching my chest, each lady began to suck on a nipple. "Use your teeth, but be very gentle." Warned Emily to her daughter. It seemed forever before they began to move south again, and I was more than ready. Emily held my dick, showing it to Linda and instructing her on its function and proper technique for stimulation. Then suddenly, Emily devoured most of it in one gulp. She move up and down slowly several times before coming off and allowing Linda a chance. I winched slightly in pain as Linda clamped down on it. "Careful sweetheart, no teeth. Its very sensitive. And also, caress his balls gently, very gently, while you are sucking." This sexy child did just that, and it was all I could do to not come straight into her mouth. She would start out slow, and speed up her rhythm gradually. "Another thing you should do while you are sucking is to let him do you at the same time." Linda looked up questioningly. Caressing her small body as she moved around my, Emily took Linda's tiny hips and lifted them over my face, spreading her thighs at the same time. I found myself stari "Oh my God, Nanay!" she called to her mother. I could feel her small body begin to tremble. Emily quickly had Linda disengage from my penis and turn 180 degrees. Linda was now facing me, with her eyes closed, straddling my hips. I reached up and cupped her perky young tits with my hands. Behind Linda was her mother, straddling my legs. She reached around Linda's hips and down to her pussy. She spread her daughter's pussy lips and slowly lowered her onto my cock. God she was wet! She let out a gasp as a slowly moved past the resistance that was her hymen. All the time her mother was guiding me into her she was stimulating her clitoris, and I was playing with her nipples, so the pain lasted only a second, before it was replaced by ecstasy. With Emily's hand still in her daughters crotch, she guided her up and down, slowly at first and then picking up speed. I surprised myself on my staying power. I never thought of myself as a great lover. I was always able to satisfy Peggy, but this had already lasted twice as long as any session I had with Peggy. By now Linda was bouncing on my rod on her own. Just behind her I could see her mother playing with her own slit. Then just when I thought it couldn't get any better, her vagina began to squeeze my cock, at the same time she let out a primordial scream that could be heard for some distance. At that particular moment, I could care less whether anyone could hear or see us. I too screamed (but not as loud) as I shot my load into her virgin pussy. Linda then collapsed onto my chest panting, her vaginal muscles still milking my cock for every drop of semen. As my other senses began to return, a looked around to see what others were doing. Hanging on the edge of a picnic table and bent over was Sue, the waitress with the big tits. Pumping her from behind was our mechanic friend, Roy. She was not exaggerating about Roy's size. From what I could see, sliding in and out of Sue's cunt he was, well ... the mechanic's screwdriver was longer that average. "It's time we get up and wash, remember, I'm next." she said coyly. Emily helped her daughter up, and then I could stand. Linda immediately embraced me, kissing me deeply and thanked me for being such a wonderful first time. I mumble something about enjoying the experience immensely and that I was proud to be her first. Both women put their arms around my waist, one on each side, and we walked together toward the river. As we passed Rey and his little Mexican girl, Emily reached down between Rey's legs and caressed his balls for a moment. "Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?" she asked. Rey only grunted. We then continued to the river. To my left, I thought I heard some familiar moaning. I turned to see my Peggy lying on her back on the grass. Cherry had her face pressed against my wife's red bush giving her some very passionate head. Roy's wife Jean was at Peggy's side, sucking on her large pink nipples. Peggy and Cherry were a wonderful site to look at. Cherry with her tight dark body and beautiful long black hair and Peggy with her pale skin and freckles, and short red hair. The contrast was ...delicious. I so much want to stay and watch, or even go over there and help but my fillipina lovers had other ideas. On the river bank was a small area for wading and playing in the river. The three of us walked into the river until the water was just above my knees (mid thigh for my fillipina sex kittens). The two of them began to wash me in the river water. The water was cool and refreshing, and I made a point of splashing some on the girls. The cool water brought their nipples to attention but had the opposite affect on my penis. Emily said that as soon as they were all washed she would take care of that matter. Emily cupped water in her hand and poured it over my soft member occasionally using her hand as a wash cloth to clean everything. While doing this she turned to her daughter who was washing herself behind Emily, "Be sure to wash everything very well, men do not like smelly pussys." "I will, mom!" Their tone was that of any mother and teenage daughter, except they were talking about fucking. After another handful of water, Emily knelt and took my placid dick into her mouth. "I need to see if it is clean." she rationalized. It only took a few licks of her tongue to bring the circulation back into my cock. "I love these things when they are freshly clean. I could suck you all day." "Mom, I'm going to see if Stan is free yet, I saw him earlier by the gazebo with Amy." Emily pulled her face off my cock long enough to say "OK dear, have fun." and then reapplied herself. God she was good. Her tongue circling my rod, taking it as deep as her small mouth could manage and at the same time gently caressing my balls. I too wished she could continue for the entire day but my prostate had other ideas. As I began to come into her mouth she stopped in and out motion and just held my cock rigid, in order to swallow most every drop. I was just about to thank her on the best blow job of my life when she grabbed my limp cock and towed me to shore with it. Once on the bank she bent over on her hands and knees and announced, "Now you have to do me." "I don't think I can." I apologized. "I've come twice already in two hours, its going to need a rest." "Nonsense!" she grabbed my limp cock and stroked it two or three times, and it was stiff again. I couldn't believe any man could recover that fast. "What ever makes us all want to fuck also gives us the ability to go at it time after time for the whole day." She said quickly. "Now quit making excuses and fuck me!" Who am I to argue. I moved in behind her and began to stroke her pussy. Sure enough, she was already very wet. Her legs were so short, she had nearly buried her face in the sand in order to make her pussy accessible. "Rey's cock is to short." she told me. "He could never satisfy me this way. Only on summer day can I get fucked from behind." Who am I to deprive her of that. I immediately plunged my cock into her exposed wet pussy and began pumping away at her fine looking ass. Although she wasn't as tight as her virgin daughter, like her, her vagina muscles squeezed my tool as she started to come. After I shot my load into her, I gripped her hips and pushed myself tight against cute little ass until her breathing returned to normal. She got up and turned around and kissed me deeply. "Thank you , Allan. And thank you for Linda. She should have told you her self but you know teenagers." I nodded and returned the kiss. "Now", she said, "let's get you washed up again." We stepped back into the river and she repeated her washing of my cock. "Yo, Em!" someone shouted from the bank. We both turned to see a tall heavy black man about fifty years old standing at the water's edge. "You ain't fucked, till you've fucked a black man." he said. "You say that every year," Emily responded. "Let me finish washing my pussy and I will be right out. See you later, OK Allan." "OK " I muttered, and walked back to the park. I looked around to try to find Peggy. Yes, there she was, still with Cherry and Jean. This time though, it was Jean who had her head pressed against my wife's pussy and Cherry was straddling Peggy's face. My wife eating pussy. I couldn't believe it. I just stood there, taking in the sights, and feeling the warmth return to my groin. Cherry looked my way, saw me, and waved me over. Well , you didn't have to ask me twice. I walked quickly over to where all this was going on. There was sheer delight on the face of this indian princess as my wife was feverishly going after her pussy. For a beginner, Peggy must have been doing a very good job. "Everyone enjoying themselves?" I asked like a dumb ass. Jean and Cherry nodded, while Peggy mumbled something, (it seems her mouth was full). "Allen" asked Cherry, the only one who didn't have a mouth full of pussy,"come over here and I will get you hard again, then you can fuck Jean." Jean nodded and grunted approval without missing a lick. I step over my wife, straddling her and Cherry took my cock in her hand and guided it to her mouth. Her wonderful, sensuous, mouth. My limp pecker immediately sprong back to life. Waves of pleasure overcame me as I reach behind Cherry's head and pushed myself deep into mouth. She seemed to take it very well, swallowing the whole thing, making wet slurping noises as she pistoned her mouth back and forth on my rod. My balls were beginning to twice, Cherry must have sensed it. "Time to give some of that to Jean now." Jean nodded again in agreement. I somehow brought myself to disengage Cherry and move around behind where Jean was knelling as she licked Peggy's pussy. "You had better hurry," said Jean in a muffled voice, "I think these two are almost ready to come." I knelt down behind her and place my hand between her legs. Her cunt was dripping wet, begging to be fucked, and who was I to refuse. As lubricated as she was, it was a simple matter to slip inside her. She wasn't as tight as Linda or her mother Emily but it still took some concentration not to come the moment I entered her warm love canal. I grabbed Jean hips and started pumping. Over Jean's well shaped ass I could see Peggy's tits with their cute pink nipples shudder with excitement, and beyond that I could see Cherry in all her wonderful glory nearing climax. I now could hear Jean moaning softly into my wife's pussy. I clenched my eyes shut, trying not to come yet but my prostrate had other ideas. Just as the second stream of semen left the end of my penis, I could feel Jean's vaginal muscles start to spasm. Both Cherry and Peggy screamed as they went into climatic convulsion at the same. Jean, now no longer sucking pussy said "Oh God yes! God that's good!" Pretty amazing I thought later, the four of us climaxing at the same time, but on this day I don't know why that should surprise me. Peggy looked up at me with a very satisfied expression. "You know what I need now is a cock." Peggy had never used the term cock before. Always penis or thing, like some high school kid. Well, I hope some of these qualities remain after tomorrow. I looked down at my limp, overused organ and began to apologize. "Don't worry Peggy," said Jean, "he's good for a lot more. We'll get him back up. You just lay there and relax." Jean and Cherry then moved in on me. Both of them taking turns and otherwise co-operating fondling and sucking my wasted dick. To my delight, it did not take long before it was as erect again. The two women guided me down to my wife. Cherry kissed Peggy's twat and then spread her wide open. Jean, with my cock in her hand, directed it straight for Peggy waiting pussy. As I began to pump, Peggy wrapped her legs around my waist. Jean would be behind us caressing my balls. My wife had never been so exciting to me. Twice, during some very aggressive banging, my cock came out of her twat. Jean was right there to re-insert it. We must of fucked there on the grass for a good fifteen minutes before both of us had a violent climax. We laid there in each others embrace trying to catch our breaths. Cherry and Jean had come over and kissed each of us before moving on to others. Once rested, we got up and walked over to the refreshment table. We had both developed quite a thirst with all the physical activity. Sipping our lemonades, we surveyed the area to see what we wanted to do next. Peggy smiled as her eyes fell on a group of high school kids over in a playing field. It looked like the entire football team was gang banging the entire cheer squad. Seeing those teenage cheerleaders with their tight asses and perfectly firm tits would make any man forget where he was. But Peggy was looking at the hardbody football studs. Those well developed muscles, excellent physical condition, and adolescent pricks was more than Peggy could resist. Before I knew it, I was holding Peggy's drink, and watching her cute freckled butt jog across the field to join them. I finished my drink as well as hers and then slowly walked over to the high school 'scrimmage'. It was a sex orgy in the purest sense. No one on one or three somes, it was everybody doing everybody. They would form large circles with their bodies on the grass and they would orally attack the genitals of the person in front of them while their own privates were being eaten by the person behind them. The hodge podge organization of the thing reminded me of the style of dance back then where you didn't dance with partners anymore but just chose up sides. Peggy had somehow found her way to the middle if the thing and was being devoured by what appeared to by a quarter back and three of his linemen. It was a glorious sight. Peggy in the middle of this sexual homecoming trying to satisfy four studly football players. There she was, on all fours, dividing her sucking between two enormous cocks while the quarterback took her from behind like she was some perverted center. The fourth boy stood there, playing with himself, waiting to go in and relieve the quarterback. Two thin warm arms suddenly enveloped my waist and two petite hands reached and found my semi rigid dick. "Hi again, Allen." said Linda. "Could you come over and help us for a few minutes?" "What, again?" asked I, as I turned to hug and kiss her deeply. "Maybe later," she kissed back. "Right now I want to get up in that tree." She led me to an old maple tree near the river. In front of it stood the mexican boy and his sister. "This is Carlos, " as Linda started the introductions. "This is his first year here, just like me. And this is his sister, Rosita, or Rosie. Her first time was last year. " Rosie put her arms around my neck and gave me a very sexually stimulating kiss. As her tongue jammed into my mouth, I could feel the erect nipples on her rather large for her age breast push against my chest. My growing cock found its way between her legs and was now gently rubbing her moist pussy. "Rosie!" interrupted Linda. "Allen came over to help us. You can screw him later." Rosie pried herself from me, "I will." OK by me, thought I. "Allen, Carlos says he wants to screw me in the tree. Will you please give us a hand up." Thinking nothing was too outrageous today, I gave him a boast up without giving it a second thought. He quickly climbed to a large overhanging branch and waited. Then I gave Linda a boast, making sure to give her ass a gentle push as she followed him up and joined him. Then to my utter disbelief, she began to suck his cock, right there in the maple tree. He was sitting on a branch, about eight feet off the ground and she was kneeling in front of him giving him a hell of a blow job. When she felt his prick was ready, she carefully climbed over him and brought herself down on his member. Sue had said no one gets pregnant or catches anything, I wondered if that included fractured bones from falling from trees, but they seemed to keep their balance. I felt myself grow hard. Not just from looking at this somewhat novel sex position but from the fact that Rosie had move in front of me and was now sucking on my prick. Rosie was a beautiful girl, large firm breast with dark nipples, slightly jiggling as her mouth moved in and out. I finally manage to tear my eyes away from the tree and on to her. Her smooth dark skin glow with perspiration and her wonderfully bright smile as she looked up to me, I had to fuck her now and she knew it too. "I don't like heights or I would be up there too." she said. "But we can do the next best thing." With that she walked over to the trunk of the tree her brother was fucking in and bent over embracing the tree for support. "Just don't stand there, fuck me now." I would normally expect a teenager to show me a little more respect, but I wasn't going to argue with such a gorgeous ass sticking up at me. I stood behind her, and with no preliminaries I plunged my cock into her wet, waiting pussy. As I was pounding Rosie's tight little cunt, I could hear the moaning of orgasming teenagers above my head. After the last spasm from my cock pumped into Rosie, I looked up again. Linda and Carlos were waiting patiently above us for a hand down. Linda edged over and then slide into my waiting arms. She gave me a passionate kiss, and told me how great that tree fuck was. Rosie had helped her younger brother down. "How was it?" she asked. "The best screw I've had today." was his reply. "God! It looked great from down here. Allen was a great fuck, but I'm still horny, and you have not had the best fuck yet." With that, she embraced her younger brother and lip-locked him. I had seen almost every over form of depravity, including a couple of guys going at it in the bushes which I just as well forget about, so incest I suppose was the next step. Rosie pushed Carlos to the ground, just under where he and Linda had just fucked, and started nibbling down his neck and then torso. Linda and I stood there fondling one another watching this display. After giving each other oral pleasures she lowered her self on to his shaft. After several minute of pounding and screaming, he push her over on her back with her legs raised over his shoulders and started pumping her. A quick swat on the butt brought me back. "Hey lover," announced Sue. "I've had an eye on you all day. It's time we fucked." I looked at Linda. "No sugar, I want you all to myself. Linda sweety, I think you dad could use your help." Father- daughter I though. Why not? "Have you ever been tit fucked?" asked Sue. I shook my head. Peggy had small to medium sized breast, and frankly the thought never occurred to us. Sue grabbed my rod and led me over to a blanket she had laid out on the ground. "It's real easy sugar." Sue said as she layed down on her back. "You just sit on my chest and put the sweet cock of your between my boobs and fuck your brains out." Her tits were made for fucking. Large, soft yet they didn't sag hardly at all. Out of one corner of my eye I could see Rey DeGuzman bang his tiny daughter in the same boring missionary style of fuck. Over by the picnic table, Roy was screwing Cherry from behind. Emily and Jean had joined several other women, who I would fuck later in the day, for an all girl grope session. Across the field I could see Peggy having the time of her life being the center of attention to a dozen high school studs. And I was about to shoot my load in the face of Sue and she would love every minute of it. What a grand way to bring in summer. "What happened at ten twenty five the next day?" I asked "That was the weird part." answered Allen. "I was in the middle of fucking this little brunette cheerleader, when my cock suddenly went limp. When I got up off of her she quickly covered her breasts and pussy with her hands with newly discovered modesty. I looked about and everyone seemed to find an urgent reason to find their clothes. I too was walking over to where I had left my clothes the day before with one hand over my privates. The only person who didn't show modesty was Jean who simply put her sandals on and gave her shorts to Roy and proceeded to walk home naked. Normally this would elicit a response from my groin but it was far to tired for that. Peggy and I cleaned up and rested in our room, and by afternoon the car was fixed and we were ready to go. Cherry was outside to see us off. The beautiful woman who just the day before had suck my cock so well, only offered her hand to shake, and thanked us for joining there little celebration. Everyone went on like nothing happened." "Did Peggy change in any way due to that experience?" "She did seem to enjoy sex more. I got it more often, and we would try new positions and techniques. She never did develop a taste for other women though." "Did you ever go back?" I asked. "A couple of times, when the school schedule would permit. But in 1974 when everyone met in the park for their beginning of summer, nothing happened. They waited around for a while, eating the sandwiches and drinking the lemonade, but nothing came over them. So they just went home. The spell has never came over them again to this date, and I do check now and again." "I wonder" I said. "If any other towns on the 45th parallel have this kind of phenomenon?" Allen's eyes became brighter. "I have an atlas at home." he said as he rushed out.

The following is an erotic fictional story written from the deep recess of my somewhat disturbed mind. To the best of my knowlege, all characters are fictional. If I am mistaken, they should contact me directly. I hope you will like this tale. POLISH SAUSAGE SEX A Story Told at the Miller's Tale by Robert the Librarian November is the month most Seattlites wish they were else where. Those who can afford it, go to Hawaii or Mexico. Those who cannot go to the Miller's Tale to try to forget about the wind and cold rain, the constant overcast and the shorter and shorter days (God how depressing). The Miller's Tale hides itself on an obscure street off Broadway in Seattle's Capital Hill District. The Miller's Tale sells a wide assortment of coffees, lattes, and micro brew beers. But one does not go to the Miller's Tale to become intoxicated, that is considered very poor form. Rather we forget about the outside world through stories and conversations. Those who come here have been doing so for some time or are invited guest of a regular patron. Karl von Langenschaft was one of the later. Bill Lehmann escorted the ninety year old man to a chair near ourselves and returned to the counter where he ordered an esspresso for himself and a dark beer for Karl. Trying to make our new guest feel at home, I started the conversation talking about the cold, unpleasant weather. "Ach! You think this ist cold, you should live in Poland in November. Das ist kalt!. Much colder than here, and no nice central heating. Und during the War, when heating oil und gas went to the German army, those old fireplaces look nice but they don't heat worth crap!" We learned that Karl was born a Baron in a German speaking part of what is now Poland. The land his family owned and the peasants worked was small and well out of the way. The town of Grossplatz was any thing but big. It lies at the end of and old dirt road, no rail, not even a post office. "Only in such a place could a baron do what we did. No more in this modern world. Only in primitive little Grossplatz." "What sort of things would those be?" I prodded. "Not beheadings or dungeons or anything like that?" "Nein, nein." Answered Karl. "Have you heard the term 'jus primae noctis'?" It sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it for the accent was wrong for Latin. "It means the baron will spent the first wedding night with any madchen, any girl, in the village." Our small group of listeners looked astonished. "The baron always got the first fuck is what I mean. Mein Gott, what a job that was." The Baron, my father had been doing this since the title was bestowed him from his father. Being so far into the mountains and since communications being so poor then, and since it had been going on for many generations, no one gave it a second thought. In 1923, I turned sixteen and would watch my father take each new bride to his bed chamber. At first it would be from a closet or peeking through a curtain, but after a few times I would stand near the bed as Father and the young bride would roll about the large bed completely naked. Father would tell me that I must make the love play interesting else wise I would become bored with it after a few months. As a sixteen year old I didn't think it possible to get bored with sex. But I was a good son and listened to my father carefully. He would tell me how to take a girl's virginity in such a way as to cause her the least amount of pain as possible. I remember clearly how he would put his face in a woman's groin and bid me close. Then he would show me the girl's pleasure organ and where I would penetrate her later. He showed me erogenous zones that one would never think of as erogenous. Later on I would touch and even sometime taste the girl he was pleasing. Other times I would just look and caress my erection through my pants. If the girl was very nervous, mother would join him and the girl in the bed. Mother would also be totally nude as well, to make the girl feel more comfortable, I'm told. She would kiss and caress the girl making her relaxed and more receptive toward Father. I learn even a woman can please another woman if she knew what she was doing. Mother knew all the erogenous zones as well, and she wasn't afraid to use them. There was something very strange watching both parents fuck a young peasant girl. Father often told me that most men do not know how to love a woman properly, all they knew was to bang, bang, bang and it was over. This is how he justified the practice of 'jus primae noctis', giving the woman at least one good f "Karl, I'm so glad it is you that will be my first one." She stammered nervously as we ascended the stairs. Elise suddenly turned white with fear. "No offense my Baron." She apologized. "It's just I've seen Karl at a distance for many years. I've always thought he was very handsome. Oh! Not to say you are not handsome, Baron, it's just that...." "Do not worry girl." Said Father in that reassuring voice he used so well. "That is why I hand over the task to my son. I am getting to old for all of you pretty frauleins." Elise blushed. As we entered the bedroom Elise asked. "Baron, please do not take offense, but could Karl and I proceed alone?" "No offense taken." Said Father, "but I will stay just long enough for you two to get started right, then I will leave quietly. Now Elise, we will show you how to please a man and maybe yourself at the same time. First you must completely disrobe. Yes, yes, very good. Your man will want to watch you do this. Please, do not cover anything with your hands, after all you are proud of your nude body, and you wish to show it to your new husband. Yes, very good. You are very pretty." Father slowly advanced to her. He sniffed the nape of her neck, and then place one hand in her nether regions between her thighs, then sniffed his hand. "See for yourself, son." He commanded. I repeated just what my father had done except perhaps my hand lingering in her groin a bit longer. "Now Elise, you must disrobe your lover. Go ahead, help Karl off with all of his clothes." We had already removed our formal waist coats below in the parlor. Elise was now unbuttoning my shirt, while father undid his own. "Undo his clothing slowly, and you must touch and kiss your lover as you do this. Stimulation the whole time, that is what is important." Elise kissed my neck and then my chest as she opened the shirt. I directed her mouth over to one of my nipples. She took the hint immediately and began to suck. I could feel my young manhood growing inside my trousers. After she had done both nipples to my satisfaction, I pushed her lower. She knelt in front of my waist as she released the hooks on my pants. As the front opened poor Elise was taken aback. Most farm girls know, more or less, what hangs between a man's leg, especially those with little brothers. However Elise was still quite surprised. You see, we men of Langenschaft are quite well endowed. In all due modesty, she will probably never see a longer schlang (except for my father's) for as long as she will live. Father had always warned me that many women will think it is wonderful, but despite that comes a great responsibility that we do not hurt the wom "The whole thing, Baron?" asked a frightened Elise. "As much as you can. You must suppress the gag reflex." Elise tried her best, but could only swallow a little more than a third. Some women I have seen take more in, some less, but for the moment this felt like heaven. "Hold on Karl," Father warned, seeing I was about to climax, "you must still give pleasure to Elise." Elise removed her lips from my cock and smiled. "Did I please you, Karl?" she asked innocently. "Oh, yes." Said I . "Very much so." I took her lovely white hand and stood her up in front of me. Her nakedness excited me more than any of the women I had watched Father screw. "You are so beautiful." I said like a love struck schmuck. I embraced her, kissing her deeply. Feeling her warm breasts and small erect nipples against my chest. As our lips disengaged, Father came up behind her, putting his hands around her waist and burying his mouth in the back of her neck. Elise's back arched as Father triggered another of his well mapped erogenous zones. His hand found its way to her groin. "Son, she is so very wet for you. Feel for yourself. " I placed a hand just where Father's had been. Sure enough, it was soaked with female lubricant. "Time for the bed." Father escorted the bride to the huge bed that stood in the middle of the room. He turned and said. "Son, if you are going to join this lovely young lady in bed, its best you take off your boots first." I had been looking at Elise's fine arse as she retreated to the bed. Now I looked down. Sure enough my boots were still on, with my pants around my ankles. "Don't stand there all day Son, this girl is ready for you now." Elise laid across the bed one arm propping her head up. "Yes, come Karl." She said coyly. "I want you." In an excited frenzy I kicked off my boots and trousers and stumbled toward the bed. Father laid beside her caressing her ample breasts. "Son, you must remember, never let your lover's excitement become cold." I leapt into bed beside Elise and began kissing and touching rather clumsily. I kept telling my self to pace my love making, don't hurry. While one hand cupped her breast I kissed her deeply. My tongue dived deep into her mouth. She kissed back with equal force, although she was still a virgin, she was still well practiced in the art of kissing. I then moved about her face and neck, remembering all the different erogenous areas Father taught me, trying not to miss a single one. I so wanted this to be a real good fuck. While my face was buried between her magnificent breasts, I could feel her heart racing with excitement. Father, satisfied with my progress, quietly left the room. I sucked each nipple just as I was taught, sucking the tip into my mouth and flicking my tongue across it. I gently caressed the other breast and then switched. With each flick of my tongue she would moan softly. I then buried my face in the chasm between her fleshy mounds and slowly moved down her abdomen. I kissed her bushy pubis mons and licked the inside of her thighs, only briefly touching on her lips. I repeated my self a few times, kissing and licking all round but never pushing myself in to her. Soon she screamed, "oh Karl, please, now." With this she reached down and pushed my face into her cunt. I push my tongue past her lips and began lapping up her female lubricant. Elise bucked and moaned as my tongue circled and very moist love button. I did this until my tongue muscles ached and then kept doing it more. Just as my tongue muscle were about to finally give out Elise screamed at the top of her lungs, "oh Karl , fuck me now. Oh please fuuuuuck me." I was quite certain that it was loud enough to be heard downstairs by her mother, and could only wonder how she might face the embarrassment later. Right now though she needed fucking. In her state of excitement she probably would feel no pain, so I quickly moved up on her and slowly entered her. Her entry was tighter than I had imagined it would be. The Langenschafts men being well endowed can be both a blessing and a curse. Elise's pussy being so moist did help, and if my entering her pained her, she did not show it. Once all the way in, I left my rod still for several minutes, giving her love channel time to acclimate to the new intruder. After that moment though, it was Elise that began to move her hips to start the in and out motion. Slowly at first, I moved my hips with her. I set a pace I thought would be best for her excited state. Not so fast as to hurt her, yet fast enough to satisfy her growing needs. In the past, I have witnessed my father going through several different sex positions, screwing a women for what seemed to be hours, however between my excitement and inexperience it was over in a few short minutes. As I pumped my load into her, her legs wrapped around my waist keeping my wanger imbedded in her. We rested in each others arms for twenty or thirty minutes before getting up. The maids had left large pans of warm water in the watercloset adjoining the bedroom. Sort of a tradition. We washed together, got dressed and went down stairs where her mother was still waiting. Elise's face was beaming with sexual sati "Everything go all right, Karl?" asked Mother. The only thing I could think to say was 'wunderbar'. Unfortunately not all the girls in town were as pretty as Elise. Gunther Wollen's daughter, Anna was one that particularly comes to mind. She was somewhat on the heavy side, long blond hair that had all the esthetic qualities of straw, and huge knockers that had surrendered to gravity and tended to hang down much more than they should. With intelligence not much greater than the cows she tended for her father and the disposition of an underpaid sailor, it was a small wonder she was married off so late in life. It must have been one hell of a dowry. But as Father always taught me, I must please all of the brides, even the ugly ones. Duty took on a new meaning with this girl. By the time Anna was married, I had already serviced a dozen girls and thought myself quite the Don Juan. After the wedding reception, she took my hand and led me up to the baronage. She didn't actually run, but it was obvious she was in more of a hurry than I. Once inside the bedchamber she started pealing off yards and yards of wedding dress. As she was about halfway done she turned and glared at me. "Come on love, let's get to it." She said. "Can't wait to see that huge wonker all the girls talk about. Come on, shuck those clothes." I thought about feigning sick. Maybe something I ate at the reception, but then I thought my father the Baron would never lie to get out of a duty. At least I would prefer to believe he wouldn't. So I started pulling off my clothes with enough haste to make it appear that I was more eager than I was. All of the girls so far were in varying degrees of innocence. A some had practice in kissing, and a few, although they would never admit it, knew the rules to some heated groping. Anna, apparently had been around a lot more than you would think by looking at her. Isn't that always the way. As soon as my clothes were off, her chubby big arms grabbed me and threw me down on the bed. Laying on the bed , face up, in a state of shock (people generally do not throw Barons around, especially fat farm girls.) when Anna jumped on my face. My mouth and nose were smothered by her massive thighs and for a moment I thought I would suffocate right there in bed. What a way to go. Luckily Anna pulled several layers of fat away, and now I was confronted by an enormous pussy. Evidentuly she knew what she wanted and who was I to denigh her. Taking a deep breath (in case her let go of the fist full of cellulite she had) and swallowing my pride, I dived right in. She held my face tight against her enormous pussy, and I tried to please her as best as I could. Pushing my tongue deep into her, circling her clitoris, lapping up the abundant pussy juices that flowed from her, and to my credit, she seemed to enjoy every minute. My tongue muscles were just about to give out from fatigue when she tensed all of her muscles and shrieked out in orgasmic delight. "Done at last" I thought, but not hardly. She crawled off of my face and looked down to my loins. "Not so big." She said. "Well, let Anna take care of that." With that she put her face in my groin and took my limp pecker in her mouth. Up until then, there wasn't really anything to excite it to full erection, but Anna took it into her mouth like one of her father's kelbasa's. There is a claim I heard many years later that fat girls give the best mouth. Well from my experience that is absolutely true. This girl certainly knew what she was doing. The up and down motion, the circling the head of my member with her tongue, and the caressing of my balls with her free hand, made this the most excited my cock had ever been. This girl wasn't much to look at, but if you just close your eyes and let her work, your penis will love you for the rest of its life. "Ja, it is nice and big now." Said my chubby lover gleefully. "Mein Gott, what a cock." Holding my now rigid cock in her chubby fist, she climbed up, centering her pussy over my hips and began her descent. There were no obstacles in the path. My cock went in quite smoothly. I was not the first to have gone down this path. After taking my whole member inside her, she began to move up and down. Slowly the moving became bouncing, and then the bouncing became slamming. Unlike her virginal counterparts who came quickly, this girl had incredible staying power. Just about the time I thought my hips were about to become dislocated from her weight crashing down on them she let out a second mortifying scream. We were finally done. It was not as bad as I thought it would be, but I did limp for two days afterward. My strangest time was when my sister, Gieslia turned seventeen and was married to the burgermeister's son. The wedding was magnificent. Everyone in town was invited to the reception. Everyone told Father and Mother how beautiful the bride looked. They were very proud. I had proposed several toasts to the new bride and groom and was feeling just a little light headed when Gieslia asked me to dance with her. While we were dancing, Gieslia whispered in my ear how thankful she was for having such a wonderful brother and for the excellent toast I gave them. It made her new husband feel very welcome in our family. After that she reached up and kissed me on the lips. "What was that for?" I asked. "Don't be embarrassed silly," was her reply. "You will get much more than that later tonight." With that she kissed me again and the dance ended. "And big brother, don't drink to much. You know what father says. 'Too much beer will put the schlong to sleep.'" I walked over to my father who was now sitting at the head table drinking his beer. Father was enjoying himself immensely. He was also much further along the road to inebriation than I was. "Father, I have a question." I stammered. "About tonight. Is Gieslia and I supposed to ...er.... What I mean is my duty does it extend to ...er.." "Your sister?" he finished for me. "Yes, of course. There should be no exceptions." He slurred. "I had to do your aunt Hielda years before you were born. And frankly, your sister is much prettier than Hielda was." I was shocked. I had simply assumed that ... well she is my sister, pretty or not. I know many boys fantasies about their sisters but with Father bringing in young girls to bang throughout my life, I had never even thought about Gieslia in the way at all. She did seem to be good natured about it. Father and Mother seemed to support the idea, who was I to argue with them? The party broke up quite late that night, and I had managed to finish the party without any more beer. I loved my sister deeply I if this was to be, I didn't want her disappointed. Gieslia kissed her new husband goodnight and promised to join him tomorrow. He good naturedly said he looked forward to it. And then Gieslia returned to the house with us. Instead of going to the traditional bedchamber, we went to Gieslia's room at her insistence. She said she felt more comfortable there. We helped each other out of our party clothes. There was no hurry. The brightly colored dresses and jackets were neatly folded and set aside to be stored later. The two of us sat on Gieslia's bed facing each other. It was like we were kids again, sitting on the bed talking, or playing quiet games while our parents were entertaining downstairs. Only now was much different. We were older and both very naked and were about to have sex. Gieslia sat cross legged in front of me. She made no pretense to cover herself. I, of course was well past modesty, even with my sister. Father was right, Gieslia was much prettier than Aunt Hielda. Much prettier than I could imagine Aunt Hielda ever being. Her breast were quite small and pale. Her pink nipples stood out proudly, and I longed to touch them. She had a slim figure which was very vogue back then in the major cities. Her pubic hair, the same light brown that adored her head, was trimmed short and neat. Having fucked only these country girls this bit of sophistication was surprising yet I did rather liked it. It suited her. We just looked at one another for several minutes, taking in the other's nakedness. Finally Gieslia broke the silence. "You know Karl, the last few years, when you were up here with all of those new brides, mother would be explaining things downstairs to me." She then reached over and gently began caressing my semi-rigid cock. "Mother would tell me how you and Father would please the girls that would come here." She continued to stroke my stiffening shaft, kissing it's tip between sentences. "She would describe in detail how to make a man hard and keep him hard." Gieslia than put my cock in her mouth, well at least part ways, sliding on and off it a few times before continuing. "Last week, Mother allowed me to watch her please Father in their bed. While you were taking Kristen, I stood naked in our parents room, next to their bed. I watched Mother take Father's huge schlong into her mouth like this. I watched her go up and down like this. I also watched her caress his ball sack and use her tongue across the tip like this. The more she showed me, the hotter I felt and the more I was looking forward to this night with you." There was something wickedly erotic about my sweet little sister trying to take my whole cock into her mouth. Either she was a natural or Mother taught her very well. My dick was never so pleased with itself as right now. "Father showed me how he pleases the women. He said this would be very helpful in my upcoming married life. Karl?" Gieslia reached up and kissed me deeply, her tongue pushing deep into my mouth exploring it. "Karl, please me now. Please me more than any of the other girls you have fucked." It was the first time I ever heard Gieslia use the word fuck. Somehow the word was so much more arousing coming from her prim and proper mouth. I rolled her over on her back, locking my lips on her, probing my tongue into the depths of her mouth. I loved Gieslia and wanted to do my very best with her. As tired as I was after a long day, I took my time with her. Nibbling on her ears, licking below the chin and down her throat, reaching around and biting the back of her neck at t During the war many of the men in the region were conscripted into the army. First the Polish army to defend our land from the Germans. And then the German army in order to defeat the Russians. Through political connections I somehow avoided the army. But there were several lonely years for some of the women in the area who were now without husbands. During the growing season they kept busy, but after everything was harvested, well then I was kept busy. One night after a rather disappointing Oktoberfest I absentmindedly made appointments with two different women for the same night. I didn't realize it of course until I was walking back home with Elise in my arm, more than ready for a night a passion (with no men around, it meant no weddings, which meant no brides, which meant no.... well you get the idea.) There waiting by the door was Trina. "Gott in Himmel!" I shouted to no one in particular. The two ladies had already seen one another, and I was lacking a good lie to tell them so I resorted to the truth. "Karl, I was so looking forward to tonight with you." Cried Trina. "As was I." Cried Elise, equally loud. I was in a difficult position. I have never disappointed a woman before, yet it seemed one of these girls were going home without getting laid. This bothered me, unless.... "Ladies," I said. "I am so dreadfully sorry. But if both of you wish to have me tonight, perhaps you can share." They both looked puzzled. "Either one of you are going home unfulfilled and will have to return tomorrow or you both may have me now." "Both of us?" asked Elise. "At the same time?" asked Trina. "Yes." I said. Although I never have had to do two women at once, the prospect did come up once when sisters Marie and Marta Spiel were going to have a double wedding. The thought excited me at first but then Marie and her fianc called the marriage off and I only had Marta to screw. Well hopefully this was my chance. The mere possibility aroused my schlang. "Trina, Elise, you have been friends all of your lives. Would it be so bad, the three of us in one bed." "Karl von Langenschaft," scolded Elise. "If I didn't know you better, I would say you planed this menage a tois. Trina, what do you think? I will if you will." "Only if I am first." She responded. Gott, if only all of my mistakes ended this well. I escorted the two ladies inside, one on each arm. I was reeling doubly proud at this moment. I only hoped I would feel as proud tomorrow morning. The upstairs maid had already prepare the bedroom I use for 'guests' but she was a little surprised when I walked in with two such guests. She informed me everything was prepared and excused herself from the room in order to listen at the keyhole no doubt. Elise took Trina to one side and whispered a few words to her. They both smiled and giggled like school girls. They walked toward me kissing me, one on each side, and started loosening my clothing. "Karl?" asked Elise. "In the past, how many times have you made love in a single night?" "Maybe three." I answered. "Why do you ask?" "Only three?" said Trina, with a teasing, disappointed voice. "Well Karl, I don't know if that would be enough for two of us. You know, we are no longer young innocent virgins anymore." "I hope you are ready to set a new record tonight." It would seem the dry spell of sex has definitely ended. As Trina finished undressing me, Elise stepped behind her and started undoing the back of Trina's dress. Having opened it, she unclasped her brassier. Trina took her hands from my chest and let them fall to her side. Elise pushed the dress and bra straps over her shoulders and the garments fell to the floor. Trina then turned toward Elise and began unbuttoning her blouse. As she did this, I ,now naked, came behind Trina, and pushed her panties to the ground. As I knelt there admiring Trina's lovely ass, I saw Elise's white blouse fall past quickly followed by her skirt. Trina reach around her friend in an embrace to unhook her bra. I looked up, remembering the first time I saw Elise's boobs. They look just as beautiful today as they did when I first caressed them when we were seventeen. As Trina bent over at the waist to pull Elise's panties down, she pushed her very shapely ass right into my groin. I do not know whether it was an accident or whether she did it deliberately, but the effect was quite noticeable as my dick sprang to life. Now with the three of us butt naked, the two girls came to my sides and began moving their hand up and down my nude flesh. Trina whispered to me. "Karl, I tried to remember everything you taught me in bed. Erick, with all of the years of trying, was never as good as you were." Both girls were now playing with my hardening cock, knelling down to lick it, and taking turns trying to swallow it. These two lovelys were co operating much better than I would have dreamed possible. My legs began to become weak with all of the stimulation and I suggested we move to the bed. Lying on the bed my dick stood up like the mast of a fine sailing ship. Tall and straight with two sets of hands and two sets of lips and tongue insuring it remain that way. After several minutes of blissful ecstasy I had my guest turn about so I might fondle them as well. There I was, what a sight it must have been. Two sexually charged women handling my manhood while I had two moist pussys on either side of my face. I reached up with both hand, caressing both, trying to divide my attention between them so neither felt cheated. It was obvious from the motion of there hips at no one besides themselves had touched themselves there for some time. Their hands and mouths fondled, their hips rotated in delight, and their pussys gushed female lubricant, all at the same time. "Oh Karl, please eat me down there." Demanded Trina. "Oh please NOW!" "No Karl, eat my cunt first." Begged Elise. Both pussys were equally ready for me yet I only had one mouth. Then something Father mentioned years ago accrued to me. I disengaged from the girls and moved Elise 180 degrees about so her cunt was directly over Trina's face and Trina's cunt directly below her face. "Karl, you don't expect us to eat each other do you?" "Why not." I replied. "I can't eat you both at the same time. Besides who would know better how to please a woman than another woman?" I gently pushed Elise's head down into Trina's groin and pushed her ass so her pussy smashed against Trina's face. Trina started first with some very sensitive tongue work. Elise caught on quickly and dove her tongue into Trina's snatch with a considerable amount of gusto. The sight of them together excited me more than I thought it would, and I actually started stroking myself slowly. In my line of work, I rarely had to do myself. With their new found enthusiasm it seemed they no longer needed me. This bothered me a bit for I was ready to get laid. I reach between the girls and began to fondle Elise's tit. "I need to get fucked." I announced. Luckily they wasted no time in coming to my aid. "Remember," said Trina. "I get to be first." "I know." Replied Elise. "Why don't we do this." Elise then positioned me on my back, my rod sticking straight up. She then placed Trina over my erection and Trina lowered herself slowly. Just as I was starting to penetrate her, Elise moved up straddling my face with her very wet pussy, and turned toward Trina. As I began to consume Elise's cunt, Trina lowered herself the rest of the way onto me. After a moment of hesitation, she started to pump. While gleefully lapping up pussy juice and trying not to come to soon I saw out of the corner of my eye my two lovers kissing one another. While I attended both of their cunts they were massaging and sucking each other's breasts. They took turns. First Trina would suck on Elise's larger mounds, and then Elise would suck on Trina's smaller breasts gently biting the nipple then circling her tongue around them. This distraction was to much and my schlang exploded into Trina's cunt. We laid in bed together for at least an hour, trying to catch our breaths. "That was one." Teased Elise. "Are you ready to do me?" If I said no, I would never live it down. I am the baron after all. Elise wanted me to take her from behind. I think you say 'dog style' now. She placed Trina on her back at the head of the bed, legs spread wide apart. Elise knelt before Trina, her face in the other girl's pussy, and her ass straight up in the air. I carefully moved behind Elise and spread her legs a bit. I thought to my self as I entered her that I don't remember teaching her this. Her cunt, despite its wetness was very tight. I had to grab her waist and push my self in. As soon as I was all of the way in, she wiggled her hips in a very sexy manner, and began to move her ass back and forth all the while eating out Trina's pussy. I had more staying power this time and I almost fuck Elise's pussy raw before the three of us came at the same time. I do not remember how many times after that we fucked that night. But it was a record. I really enjoyed two girls and I wish I could have had them back for another night. However I had made a mistake in showing them how to please each other. Whenever they needed satisfaction, they now turned to each other rather than me. From then on, it was one at a time. After the war the communist took over. No more baron, no more jus primae noctis. I was forced to get laid the old fashioned way. "You know Karl." I said. "All in all, you made out pretty good. In those few short years, you screwed more women than most of us in a lifetime." "Also" chimed in Bill Lehmann. "You still have your memories. They make one hell of a story, don't they?" I nodded in reply. 7490 words.

The following is a erotic fictional story written from the deep recess of my somewhat disturbed mind. To the best of my knowledge, all characters are fictional. If I am mistaken, they should contact me directly. I hope you will like the story. THE AROMA OF SEX a Story Told at the Miller's Tale by Robert the Librarian Professor Matt Riechen was sitting near the rear of the Miller's Tale when I came in. The Miller's Tale is a sort of coffee house that also serves exotic teas and a few local micro brews. It's just a little hole in the wall in one of the more "liberal thinking" parts of Seattle. Doktor Riechen, as I sometimes call him, was sitting alone. This is somewhat unusual, but what is more unusual is the fact he replaced his normal blend of East India tea with one of the more potent micro brews. This definitely looked like a man with a story to tell. "Herr Doktor!" I started with my best Austrian accent. "Huh? Oh, it's you." "May I sit?" "Actually, you may be the perfect person to share this with." said Riechen, as he motioned me to sit. I get some of my best stories this way. "I need to tell someone. Now you promise never to repeat what I am about to tell you to anyone." I crossed my heart and mumbled something. Any way, he never reads these kinds of magazines. "You didn't get one of those sexy coeds up at the University 'knocked up', did you?" I asked jokingly. Matt Riechen glared at me. "God! you didn't?" "Worse! Here, let me give you some background. You remember in the psychology department has a program where psych grads sort of treat the under grads with problems. It gives the grads good practice at concealing and it's a free service to the lower class men. It's all well supervised and has been working well for years. About four months ago, a pretty female sophomore comes in for therapy. She sees Lisa Anderson, one of my students. Lisa is a tall, blond, just like one of those Swedish Bikini Team girls you see on the beer ads. She is twenty three and very popular. Anyway, it seems this pretty little sophomore, whose name is Rebecca something, has a great deal of trouble becoming intimate with people. Particularly of the opposite sex. This girl was beyond shy. She wouldn't hold hands or even touch a boy. Any conversations with boys were strictly business and when business was complete she would excuse herself. In the dorm where she lives, she would only shower at two or three in the morning so no one might see her undressed. What ever caused her extreme modesty was unclear, but to have a normal social life she would have to overcome this. She realized this, and that is why she came to us. Treatment wasn't easy. With most irrational fears we slowly desensitize the patient, however, Rebecca was so terrified of human contact, flesh to flesh, she would bury her head in her lap or run from the room screaming. We would try visual cues. We would show her certain romantic scenes from daytime soaps. She would look longingly at the couples on the T.V. but as soon as romance turned to passion, or someone started to disrobe, her blood pressure would shoot up, her heart rate would increase, shortness of breath and perspiring. All the classic signs of anxiety. Lisa was doing a excellent job. She was patient, understanding, sympathetic, everything a good therapist should be except successful. She tired to build her self esteem by telling her how bright or attractive Rebecca was. And Rebecca was attractive. She stood at 5 foot 4, with mousy brown "Look, it's just the two of us, right?" Lisa would say. "I don't mind you looking at my breasts. I am very comfortable with myself. Besides we're friends." Lisa would open her shirt a little more exposing two well formed tits. "I bet you have very pretty breast." Rebecca would turn her head and blush. At least she didn't leave the room screaming. Rebecca raised her hands and started to unbutton her baggy blue flannel shirt. Her hands began to shake. "Just the top button or two, OK?" Rebecca nodded and her hands managed to release the top button, exposing the base of her neck before she had to let her hands drop back to her lap. "That's a start. Now, look in the mirror. It doesn't look bad. Pretty nice if you ask me. Do you think you could now leave the room and walk back to campus like that." Rebecca looked shocked and shook her head. "Come on" Lisa help Rebecca up from her chair and toward the door and the time holding Rebecca's arms at her side so she couldn't rebutton her shirt. They walked slowly down the hallway of the psych building toward the main entrance, passing several students and faculty as they went. As they approached the main doors a student coming in looked at the two of them and whistled. "Hey Lisa, nice tits." Lisa had been so concerned with Rebecca rebuttoning her shirt she forgot hers was totally unbuttoned and flapping in the breeze. Rebecca turned to Lisa and said, "Oh my God, Lisa, your shirt" Lisa knew for this therapy to work she mustn't show any embarrassment. Besides for a moment Rebecca completely forgot about her own embarrassment and was now focused on Lisa. The next words from Lisa's mouth would be very important. "This?" said Lisa opening her shirt even more. "This is nothing. It doesn't bother me at all." "Really? That's great. I wish I could be more like that." "With time you can." Lisa reassured her. This episode gave Lisa an idea for a new direction of therapy. The two girls were close enough for one to be genuinely concerned about the other. If Rebecca could feel empathy for Lisa's accidental exhibition what if she did it deliberately. Would the feeling, the excitement transfer to Rebecca? The next week, Rebecca patiently sat in the psyche waiting area with five other students waiting for there respective councilors. She had the top button of her blouse undid. She had gone all week like that and was proud to show Lisa how 'daring' she had become, exposing the base of her throat. "You're right on time, Rebecca." Rebecca looked up at the voice of her new friend and saw Lisa as she never thought she would see her. Before her stood a five foot eleven inch beautiful blond completely naked. Lisa stood there very relaxed, very comfortable. Her nudity was not lost on the other five students in the room (three of which were male). Not as buxom as some Scandinavian women, Lisa's breast still commanded a great deal of respect. What they lacked in sheer size they made up for in form and grace. Her aureoles were pinkish and nipples somewhat erect. Her pubic hair was trimmed about the edges of accommodate her rather revealing swim wear she wore during the summer, and all could see she was a natural blond. All the other students were speech less. The male students wishing she was there councilor, the females wondering which of them, Rebecca or Lisa, really needed the help. "Lisa" Rebecca finally said, "aren't you ...?" "Cold?" "No, I mean embarrassed." "I told you last week, this sort of thing doesn't bother me. I have a good body, don't I guys?" she turns and asks the male students sitting only a few feet away. They all nodded dumbly. "Why shouldn't I show it off? Come on let's talk." Lisa took her hand and led her down the hallway toward the conference rooms. The male students craning their necks to get a look at one of the best asses in the department. They passed several other people on their trip down the long corridor. Most look at her with approving smiles and nods. This reaction was not lost on Rebecca. They entered the small cubical the grad students used for therapy sessions. Lisa closed the door behind them and said "I noticed the top button of your shirt is undone. I'm proud of you." "I've worn my shirts like this all week. It was kind of hard at first but...." Rebecca couldn't help stare at Lisa as she sat facing her. Lisa had crossed her legs, shamelessly displaying her pussy. Through all of this Lisa seemed relaxed and unaffected (actually she was very aroused and wished she could relieve she sexual tension but settled for opening her legs so her wet pussy might dry). "Do you think you could go another step further?" asked Lisa. "You mean undo another button?" "Well, that too. I thought maybe we could try something more daring." "You didn't want me to walk around the hallways naked like you?!" "Not through the hallways" answered Lisa. "Just in this room. Just for me. The door is locked, and I am already naked, it's just us girls, and I know you want to do it." Looking at Lisa's nakedness had done something for her and Rebecca felt maybe she could do it. For Lisa anyhow. Rebecca unbuttoned the next two buttons and then stopped. "Look, why don't you close your eyes. Pretend you are getting ready for a shower." Secretly Lisa could hardly wait to see Rebecca nude. Rebecca undid the last two buttons and opened her shirt. She wore a rather plain, unsexy white bra. She opened her eyes and shuttered a bit. "I don't think I can go any further." Rebecca admitted. "That's all right. This is a good beginning. Rebecca, have you ever masturbated?" Rebecca looked shocked at the question. "You won't go blind you know." "I know that. It's just that...." "Come on, haven't you ever wanted to put a couple of fingers between your legs and rub like this." Lisa put the flat of her hand against her exposed genitals and rubbed slowly, hoping the sexual tension might make Rebecca more open. Rebecca just watched, making no moves toward her breasts or crotch. Lisa feeling the excitement building inside her reached up with her free hand and was caressing her breast. Pinching the nipples, feeling it's soft roundness. Rebecca just watched stoically. Lisa closed her eyes and began concentrating on her own sexual release, her hips bouncing in the chair as she neared climax. This was the first time Lisa had deliberately masturbated in front of someone and the excitement was to much for her. She soon organized, and fell back into her chair exhausted. Rebecca stared in disbelieve. "See" said Lisa thinking quickly, "that wasn't so bad. Now what about you. It really will release you ." Lisa reached over, pushing Rebecca's shirt off her shoulders and reached around to unhook the clasp on her bra. As the elastic of the bra snapped open, Rebecca jumped up. "I'm sorry Lisa," she said holding the bra to her chest and shrugging on her shirt. "I just can't do this." Rebecca left the room, rebuttoning her shirt as she left. Lisa pursued after her (still bare assed naked) all the way down to the main entrance before giving up the chase. Every male in the psyche department and a few of the females as well, wish they could catch a glimpse of Lisa's nude body. Many of them did that day. The next day is where I come into the picture. As part of her thesis, Lisa has been helping me with my aroma therapy. You know how certain aromas elicit certain emotional responses. Such as the smell of fresh baked bread may make one think nostalgically of home and mom. Fresh cut grass, playing in childhood or the smell of urine of drinking to excess and nausea. Well we have isolated the specific chemicals to make an individual respond just about any why we want. I was beginning to write may paper on the subject when all of this came up. Lisa, feeling her therapy was going nowhere very fast, obtained the chemicals that were supposed to elicit sexual responses in women. The following week Lisa greeted Rebecca in the waiting area. Their little audience was disappointed to see Lisa was no longer naked. She wore a white halter top and shorts. Any other time this would be enough, but they were counting on seeing her naked again. The two girls silently walked back to their cubical. "Look Rebecca, I'm sorry about last week. I really thought you might be able to go further. I guess I just hurried things along to fast." "That's all right Lisa. I really wish I could have.. you know. But I couldn't. Oh God I hate this feeling. Wanting to, but not being able to." "Rebecca," Lisa pulled a small flask from a bag on the floor next to her chair." take a whiff of this perfume and tell me what you think." Rebecca opened the flask and held it under her small upturned nose. "Nice, I kind of like it. It's almost stimulating. What's it called?" "Formula 69" answered Lisa. "Does it seem hot in here to you?" "Now that you mention it, it does." responded Lisa. "Why don't you unbutton your shirt a bit." To Lisa's surprise, Rebecca undid her shirt completely and fanned it open trying to cool her warm torso. "You know, you could get naked again if you want. I promise I won't leave screaming like last time." "Only if you join me." Lisa said smiling. "Deal." answered Rebecca as she shrugged off her shirt and reached down to unsnap her jeans. Lisa pulled off her halter top and shorts quickly (it helped not wearing panties) and stood in front of her completely nude. Rebecca was wearing only some primitive looking panties and bra. They looked like something her mother should wear, not a sexy coed. "Lisa, could you help me with my bra again?" Lisa stood behind Rebecca and unhooked her bra. As it fell to the floor Rebecca grasped both of Lisa's hands from behind and pulled her tight against her back. Rebecca could feel Lisa's now erect nipples rub just above her shoulder blades. Rebecca took Lisa's hand and cupped them over her naked breasts. Lisa took the hint and began caressing her breasts, trapping Rebecca's nipples between her index and middle fingers. "Oh thank you Lisa. Until now I never had the courage to do this." Rebecca's hand was now inside her panties grinding away at her hot moist pussy. After a few moments, Rebecca turned around and with one hand still in her panties embraced Lisa with the other giving her a very passionate kiss. "Lisa, I don't know how to make love to another women, and I want to make love to you. Right here and right now. Please show me." Lisa never had a lesbian affair but had counseled several students who had. She knew more or less what was to happen. "Yes, I want to fuck you too. Firstly, remove your panties." Obediently Rebecca dropped her panties. Now with both of them completely naked, Lisa's hand moved in to replace Rebecca's at massaging her wet pussy. Rebecca immediately took the hint and moved her and over to Lisa's hot cunt and started stroking her. "Next, kiss me again, this time use your tongue." "My tongue?" questioned Rebecca. But before she could follow up on that thought Lisa had put her mouth over Rebecca's and started inserting her tongue. This seemed to excite Rebecca ever more as Lisa could her Rebecca's pussy to become even wetter. It was only a few seconds before Rebecca had the nerve to poke her tongue into Lisa's mouth. The two tongues would circle each other like fencing swords, pushing back and forth into each others mouth. At the same time their free hands were exploring each others bodies. Fondling breasts, pinching nipples, caressed asses and back to the breasts. At the beginning of the fondling, Lisa wondered whether she would have enough nerve to lick Rebecca's pussy. Now, with her heart ready to burst, and her cunt almost exploding, eating her new lover was now a moral imperative. Lisa gently pushed Rebecca to the floor of the small room, her hand never leaving Rebecca's privates. She then started sucking on her nipples. Rebecca moaned in pleasure and begged her to continue. After several minutes on each breast, flicking her tongue across her erect nipples, she slowly moved down the valley between her lovely mounds. Moving slowly down her stomach only pausing a second at her navel, she arrived at her pubic mound. Her pubic hair was bushy and untrimmed, yet soft. After all, who would see it. Until now even Rebecca hasn't looked at it much less bury their face in it. Lisa pressed her face deep between Rebecca's parted leg, taking in the smell of her femininity. Rebecca reached down to push Lisa's face deeper into her muff. Soon, Lisa's tongue darted between the very moist lips of Rebecca's genitals and found her clitoris. At the first touch of her tongue against Rebecca's clit., Rebecca spasmed, lifting her hips well off the floor, disrupting Lisa's cuntlings. It was only seconds before Lisa re-engaged Rebecca's clit. With her own slit soaking wet, Lisa felt it needed some attention. She had heard about a "69" position, but always felt that was something one on "Sorry, Lisa." said Chris. "We can find another room." Both Chris and the mystery under grad had huge grins on their faces and huge bulges in their pants. Both girls were so involved at this time, the whole department could watch for all they cared. Lisa went back to Rebecca's sex without looking whether Chris and his friend had yet left. Both girls began to shudder with orgasm, wrapping each their arms around the other's hips, pressing their faces even deeper. After the final spasm, the two laid exhausted, Lisa on top of Rebecca for several minute. Finally Lisa said, "Our hour must be up. We had better get going." Lisa began to sit up. "Thank you, Lisa. I've never felt so free, so ... wonderful." Rebecca reached over and kissed Lisa again, her tongue darting in and out of her mouth. Rebecca got up and pulled jeans and shoes on. She then shrugged her shirt on, not bothering to button it. She blew a kiss to Lisa, opened the door and left the room, leaving her panties and bra and a naked Lisa sitting on the floor. When she exited, she left the door stand wide open. Chris, Don Baker as well as a few other students stood just outside the door, peering in. Lisa realize she was becoming quite an exhibitionist in this department. "A new technique for desensation." Lisa said matter of factly and began to get dressed, leaving the others wishing they had Rebecca's problem, or at least her therapist. Needless to say I was pissed when I heard about Lisa's new therapy, so I called her into my office to hear her side of it. "Okay Lisa, I can understand, and maybe forgive the exhibitionism. After all, we are all adults. But fucking a student, a student who trusts as a councilor is unforgivable!" I tried to stay calm and not raise my voice, the office walls are quite thin and nobody talks more about other's problem than psychologist. "What in God's name were you thinking of? We both could be thrown off this campus and never admitted to any other campus again." I had visions of teaching in some flea spec Community College in the middle of no where. "How did this happen, Lisa?" "Well, that evening she came on to me, and well, I didn't think it through, I guess." "She came on to you?" I shot back. "Miss Prude, 1996? Come on Lisa, her progress wasn't nearly that far." "I...er...well...I was desperate. She wasn't making any progress, so I guess I used a little of...em.. well .. aroma 124." "Lisa! you know that's experimental. It's not ready for clinical trails yet. Where did you get it from?" "Your personal cabinet, the one behind you." I turned around and looked. The room was so quiet you could hear my jaw drop to the floor. "Lisa, please tell me you didn't get it from there" Lisa nodded her head. I plopped down in my chair and buried my face in my hands. "I think we both are going to have to find another line of work." "Doctor, we do experiments on volunteers all the time with A124. What's the harm. So Rebecca had a kind of strong reaction?" "Lisa, the substance you tested on volunteers was a dilution of the vial in the cabinet. A chemistry assistant comes in the makes a fifty to one dilution for testing. What you gave Rebecca was the uncut, straight concentrate. Me and the university are going to be hit with the biggest lawsuit since... since I don't know when. Dammit Lisa, I was looking forward to retiring from this place!" Lisa, who normally stands at five foot eleven and a half, felt two inches tall. She can forget any chance of a Phd now, plus she ruined the career of a man whom she respected a great deal. "Lisa?" I was finally calming down enough to think straight. "I want you to find Rebecca. If the aroma has worn off, assess what she remembers, how pissed off she is, if she is at all. Maybe, just maybe if she isn't too mad we might save our careers yet." "What do you mean 'if' the aroma has worn off?" "We know how long the aroma lasts when diluted times fifty, but straight, who knows? If she is still under the influence, just do damage control. Keep her safe. Basically don't dig us a deeper hole." Lisa just sat there examining her Nikes. "Go Lisa!, we have no time to waste." Lisa knew the resident hall where Rebecca lived. She had lived there one year as an under grad. She went straight to Rebecca's room but found no one there. Frustrated, she turned and walked down the hallway. Lisa stopped a young man who was walking in the other direction. "Excuse me, have you seen Rebecca?" "Who hasn't" was his response, with a Cheshire cat smile and a wink. "I think she might be in the T.V. room." "Thanks" Lisa went down to the second floor and turned the corner to the T.V. room. Peering in she saw a group of twelve or fifteen students gathered in a circle looking inward intensely. Lisa went up to them and looked over a coed's shoulder. "Oh God" she thought. "The shit has really hit the fan now." In the middle of the circle was Rebecca, completely nude and on her knees. In front of her was a rather nerdy looking boy with thick glasses on and nothing else. Rebecca seemed to be doing a respectable job of sucking his cock. Her mouth moving in and out of what seemed like a rather long erection for a bookworm. Can't judge a book by it's cover I guess. Rebecca was caressing his balls gently while on every third stroke she would pull her mouth off far enough to have her tongue circle the circumcised head of the cock before returning to suck it. Behind Rebecca stood a tall blond student, possibly a football player looking at his physic. He was pounding her pussy from behind, and by the look on his face he was enjoying every minute. It was safe to assume Rebecca was still under the influence. Lisa didn't know whether she should break it up, or even if she could. What further damage could be done by letting them at least finish. Nearing his orgasm, the nerd was beginning to go into spasms, and Lisa swore she could see his glasses fog up. Rebecca pulled her mouth off just as he begun to ejaculate, allowing the jisim to squirt on her face. The nerd, once fully depleted, took a couple deep breaths and collapsed to the floor. The quarterback had a little more staying power and was pumping mercilessly. Rebecca seemed to be enjoying every minute of it, and now with her hands free, she reached back to stroke her clit while the blond quarterback continued to hump her. The residents standing around watching the spectacle were all speaking at once. Some routing the quarterback or Rebecca on, others on what changed Rebecca's personality. One was even advocating changing the dorm's policy to clothing "Enjoy yourself, 'Bec'?" Lisa asked. "Oh, Lisa. I'm so glad you're here." Rebecca got up and kissed Lisa passionately on the mouth. Lisa could taste the nerd's cum still on Rebecca's lips. "Oh ,my first lover, I can't thank you enough for this. I never knew I was missing so much." "Rebecca, can we go to your room and talk?" "And fuck too maybe?" "I would think you are all fucked out by now." "No way, I have a lot of lost time to make up for. Come on" Rebecca lead Lisa ,by the hand, down the hallway. "What, what about your clothes?" "Clothes, what clothes?" Rebecca giggled. Sure enough there were no more clothes left around. "You walk around naked?" "Why not. Did you not tell me there is nothing to be ashamed of?" "Damn, she is using my own words" thought Lisa. The two of them started walking up the stairs toward Rebecca's room. "Tell me Rebecca, aren't you worried what the resident manager might do when he finds out about this?" Rebecca giggled, "That guy with the glasses back there was the resident manager." As they neared Rebecca's room, Rebecca pulled Lisa into the bathroom. "I need to get cleaned up after all that." This seemed very reasonable. Lisa noticed something different about the restroom. Why were there urinals in the women's room. Then she realized Rebecca had pulled her into the men's room. "Rebecca! this is the men's lav." said Lisa. "I know" replied Rebecca. "The ladies room is all the way down the hall and to the right, this is right across from my room. Besides nobody has complained yet." Rebecca step toward the showers. Lisa could hear water running, there was someone, presumably a man, in the showers. Rebecca parted the curtain and smiled. "Hi Chuck!" "Oh, hi Bec, you startled me, what's up?" "I just had a great fuck in the T.V. room and I need to get cleaned up. Do you mind?" said Rebecca as she stepped into the shower to join Chuck. "Hell no I don't mind. I wish I had been there" answered Chuck. "Well, if you had you wouldn't be here now." "That's true. Who's your friend?" Chuck asked pointing to Lisa standing just outside the shower area with a look of amazement on her face. Chuck waved to her, "hi!" "That's my best friend, Lisa. She's the one that helped me get over my shyness." "Well thank you very much, from all of us." said Chuck. "Here Bec, you'll need soap." Chuck held out the bar of soap he was using. Rebecca just smiled and took his hand by the wrist and placed it between her legs. Chuck got the idea very quickly and worked up a lather in his hands and began to wash the inside of Rebecca's legs. He slowly worked his way toward her pussy, parting the lips and inserting a finger to make sure everything was clean. Rebecca was beginning to spasm with excitement, holding on to Chuck's shoulder for support. Chuck's other hand moved to Rebecca's well formed ass and washed it of any residue stickiness. After Rebecca calmed down, she washed her face and rinsed those parts of her anatomy that were so erotically cleaned and kissed Chuck good-bye. "You think maybe we could get together, Bec?" "Lisa and I have to talk, but maybe later. Who knows maybe you could get the both of us." "I'd like that." said Chuck. Lisa was a little upset that Rebecca was including her in her orgies, but had bigger worries right now. As they left she heard Chuck calling "See you two later, I hope." Finally they entered the quiet of Rebecca's room. Lisa sat in the study chair as Rebecca sat on the bed cross legged, shamelessly displaying her pussy. Lisa got up again to close the door that had been left open. "Don't bother, I always leave it open." said Rebecca. "Well, at least I do now. If someone wants to look in to see me, I don't mind." Lisa had studied 'dipolar' personalities, but never heard of any personality where the poles were so far apart. "Rebecca.." started Lisa. "You know Lisa, you can take off your clothes too, if you want. You've done it before." Lisa looked over to the open door. "Weren't you the one to tell me being naked doesn't bother you. Weren't you also the one who can out to the waiting area stark naked, and weren't you the one who masturbated to climax right in front of me?" As much as Lisa hated the thought of getting caught up in Rebecca's erotic world, she was correct. Besides, at this point what could it hurt? Lisa stood up and pulled her top over her head and then unfastened her jeans. Her pants and panties came off in one smooth motion along with her socks and sneakers. The tall blond stood there every bit as naked as Rebecca with the door standing wide open. "Come sit next to me here." Rebecca asked Lisa, patting the space next to her on the bed. Lisa shrugged her shoulders and sat down. Rebecca leaned over and embraced Lisa, locking mouths together, Rebecca's tongue searching the inside of Lisa's mouth. Lisa's hand moved quickly to Rebecca's breast and began to stroke it gently. Suddenly Lisa remembered why she had come there and broke the embrace. "What's wrong, darling?" Rebecca inquired. "Darling?" Lisa thought. "Rebecca, I'm afraid I might have been to aggressive in my therapy. I think maybe you have gone to far to the opposite extreme. It happens sometimes in this line of business." "No, darling Lisa, no. You freed me. And I can never thank you enough. To be perfectly honest, I was surprised how swiftly the final change came. I though it would be much more gradual." "So did I" said Lisa. "What happened after you left the psyche building yesterday?" "That was so weird yesterday. I never felt as excited and free as when I left you that day. I walked all the way from the psyche building to here with my shirt unbuttoned. Not just the top button either, but all the buttons. It was such a strange feeling, my shit flapping in the breeze, the warm air across my bare titties, that's what some of the guys call breasts you know." Lisa nodded acknowledgment. "Any way, you were right. I am pretty, I am sexy. All the guys were looking at me and smiling, or nodding approval. Some spoke to me and told me how beautiful my titties are. I was feeling great! When I got back to my room here I couldn't wait to get out of my clothes. I dropped my book bag and stripped naked and laid down on the bed. I was just thinking of our 'session' earlier, and I started playing with myself. Just like you did a week ago in front of me. Oh, I couldn't believe what I had been missing all these years. I laid here on the bed with one hand in my pussy and the other feeling my titties and I was in bliss. My body began to shake and spasm as my pussy became very moist with lubricant. I guess I was moaning a little loud because Tim was standing at my door watching me climax. At that point I didn't care, I just kept on playing with myself until my orgasm was over with Tim watching the whole time. Tim said he had heard me moaning and that the door was standing open, like it is now. Wow, had I been in such a hurry to masturbates that I left the door standing wide open? Then Tim asked if I needed a hand. I liked Tim so I said sure. Tim has short red curly hair and is about an inch shorter than you are. His skin is light complexion. He comes in pulling his shirt over his head and begins to close the door behind him. To this day I don't know why I told him to leave it open, but for some reason I felt I had to do it out where any body passing could see. Tim is a little hesitant at first so I got up and kissed him deeply, just like I did with you. Then I help him off with his "Maybe in this case," said Lisa, "the cure is worse than the disease." "No Lisa, this is great." She moved her right arm around Lisa's shoulder, her left hand still embedded in her pussy, and began to kiss Lisa. First about the ears and then the nape of the neck, slowly moving up her chin and parting her mouth for a deep passionate kiss. "Lisa, please now can we fuck?" Lisa found herself giving way to passion again as she return Rebecca's kisses. A knock at the door caused Lisa to jump out of Rebecca's embrace. "Do you ladies need any help?" asked Chuck standing in the open doorway wearing only a pair of running shorts. "Sorry to startle you Lisa." "Come on in and get out of those clothes." commanded Rebecca. "Lisa is just dying to try a three way, aren't you Lisa?" Overwhelmed by what she had seen and heard today she could only nod. In seconds, Chuck was naked and his face buried in Lisa's neck. Rebecca kept busy be sucking Lisa's left nipple while reaching over to play with Chuck's cock. Lisa knew the aroma wasn't contagious, and she was doing a lousy job of damage control but in the stimulated state she was in now she thought 'what the fuck!' She pushed Chuck flat on the bed. Both she and Rebecca began caressing and sucking Chuck's upright organ. Chuck simply laid back and enjoyed the attention he was getting. Allowing Lisa to administer pleasure to Chuck cock, Rebecca moved around behind Lisa and reached between Lisa's leg and played with her very moist pussy. "I can't hold out much longer!" cried Chuck as his cock began to shutter. "Lisa." Said Rebecca, "you're wet enough, you go first." There was no argument there. Lisa quickly moved up on Chuck, placing her wide open pussy directly above his waiting prick. Rebecca moved to their side and grasped the waiting cock. She rubbed to head of his member across Lisa wet pussy, making circular motions around her clitoris. Both Lisa and Chuck concentrated on holding their climax as long as possible. Finally Rebecca asked, "are you two ready?" both of them nodded eagerly. Rebecca positioned his cock in the entrance and guided Lisa on to it. Lisa was sure the moaning could be heard throughout the residence hall but didn't care. They probably heard a lot coming from this room in the last 24 hours. Lisa pumped up and down slowly while Rebecca was now facing Lisa straddling Chuck's face with her pussy. As Lisa bounced on Chuck's cock, and while Chuck ate out the juice cunt presented to him, Rebecca reach out and cupped both of Lisa's tit and pulled her close enough to kiss deeply. Lisa's back was toward the open door, but she could hear the voices and shuffling about of an audience. This new way of Rebecca's at looking at sex wasn't to bad after all. Lisa could really get to like it. The three- way with Chuck was great, just as Rebecca said it would be, as was the shower afterward in the men's lav with three men washing her long body. The three-way later that night with Rebecca and her neighbor Carol was also terrific. Laying naked with two other girls was defiantly the highlight of Lisa's erotic life so far. Lisa was nervous getting caught up in Rebecca's world of erotica at first, but it felt so good she figured 'what the fuck'. "So, is the University going to come down on you very hard?" I asked the professor. "I don't think so." he answered. "We lucked out in two different ways. First, Rebecca never filed any complaints. She was happy with her new lifestyle." "What about the drug she sniffed?" I asked. "That was the second stroke of luck. It seems the affects of the drug, even at full strength will only last about an hour. By the time she returned to her dorm the drug had already worn off. It was her own pent up sexual frustrations that drove her to become an exhibitionist and a nymphomaniac not my drug. The University would just rather have the whole thing buried and never mentioned again. Matter of fact, I heard that Rebecca is dancing at one of the downtown strip bars as a summer job. It's good therapy. Maybe it will get some of these sexual behaviors out of her system. What ever it is Lisa has seemed to have caught it along with most of Rebecca's neighbors at the dorm. That particular dorm is now, unofficially of course, a clothing optional residence and Lisa has come on the most of the professors in the department. With some success I hear." "Including you?" I asked. "I'll never tell." Riechen said with a smile. 7887 words.

Author: Zorlond Title: Kron, Knight Errant Part: Chapter 05 Summary: The Adventures of Kron, a powerful warrior in a universe of technology and fantasy. Keywords: Mg, Mdom, female-orc, ped, piv, oral, non-sexual viol, magic, penis size Chapter 5 "Wha..?" That was as far as Kron got before the orc girl, taking hold of his wrist with her free hand, pulled her body upwards and kicked him in the face. The blow did no real damage, but it did startle him into letting go. Landing on the floor on her feet, the girl hurried back a bit, hunched down close to the floor, as if about to scurry about on all fours like a feral. She paused there, looking up at Kron, and he looked at her. If the orc girl had been human, Kron would have guessed her to be somewhere around nine or ten years of age. Kron might have considered her to be some strange-looking goblin, another greenskin race with close ties to the orcs, but her pointed ears were nowhere near big enough, and her teeth far too big. Dark purple hair was pulled back into high twin tails, held with leather bindings. Her skin was a leaf hue of green, easily seen around the brown leather of a brief halter vest and short shorts. Her chest had small breasts, not even handfuls, but perhaps just the start of more. She was barefoot, which Kron had already noticed from the footprint on his face. Although, truth be told, he had no idea how an orc girl would be expected to dress. Up until a few moments ago, the very idea of an orc girl would have been anathema to him. Every orc he'd ever seen, heard, or even thought of had been the same massive, muscled, and quite masculine creatures. This... this was a small, lean, and altogether not uncomely female. A female who's hand just shot behind her back for an instant and returned with a knife. She leaped forward, knife edge leading. Reacting with Quicksilver speed, Kron dropped his sword, both hands reaching forward to take hold of both of her wrists, swinging around with her momentum to plant her, a bit harder than intended, against the wall behind him, her feet dangling well above the floor. She struggled a bit, but as it became clear she couldn't get either hand free, nor her legs up to kick him again, she settled down. Looking at him, her red eyes met his, her jaw setting, lips closed save for the outer pair of lower fangs. Her nose twitched, she inhaled deep... and then she spoke. "Ya smell o' war, klankah." Kron took her words, the first words he'd heard an orc speak beyond violent threats or mindless roars, and after a moment, he responded. "Let go." He indicated the knife with a slight nod of his head. The girl glanced at it for a moment. "Ya gonna kill me, 'ummie?" This made Kron stop. He thought about it. Thought about twisting her wrist until she dropped the knife. Thought of throwing her to the floor... of drawing his pistol... of taking... aim... The thought made his insides churn. Orc or not, he knew he could not harm this young girl. The very idea was revolting. Her gaze was level, unafraid, unintimidated. She knew what she asked, perhaps even expected it, but she would die as an orc, unafraid. "No, I won't." Her eyes went wide, then a curious look crossed her face. She leaned forward a bit, sniffing again. "Ya smell o' war..." she muttered, as if the meaning should be obvious. "Ya smell o' da Boss. 'E's dead, inn'e?" Kron simply nodded. Taking this, the girl relaxed her hand, knife slipping free to clatter on the floor. Her eyes took a different cast, and Kron felt one of her legs slipping around his waist. Not as some attack, no, this felt different. With her one leg, she pulled on him, tugging him closer as she leaned forward as much as she could. Her face came near his, then passed it to take a long, slow sniff at his neck. "If dat's so," she softly whispered, "Den you be da new Boss." As Kron considered her words, he became keenly aware of two things. Her tiny, slim hips pressing against his armor, and the fact that it had been well over a year since he'd had sex with a woman. And her apparent young age was no issue for him. But... a greenskin? Yes, she was a pretty girl, even with the two fangs sticking up from the corners of her mouth, somehow small and feminine... Yeah, right there. An orc. Feminine. The very notion spun his world around. How could these green monsters, huge, muscular killers known across the galaxy for their raging charges, axes held high to seek blood of their foes... be feminine..? Of course, there could be another angle to consider. Kron nudged her back against the wall again, mainly by pressing forward with his body. Locking eyes with her again, he stated up front, "You're attempting to trick me, aren't you." She shook her head, meeting his accusing eyes, unflinching. "It be da orc way. Da tuffest be da Boss. Tuffest get da girl. You killed da Boss, you da tuffest." Her head tilted a little. "Wot? Ya don't want da girl? Ya pole broke?" "Hardly," Kron muttered. With a moment of thought, he let go of one of the orc girl's wrists, and reached for his belt with one hand. She set her hand on his shoulder, watching his hand as he opened his armor, reached in, and heaved out a tube of flesh that he lay upright against her body. Kron took a bit of satisfaction in seeing the girl's eyes go wide at the thick, veiny mass of his cock, throbbing against her stomach as the head rose upward, starting to pass her little boobies as it hardened. If it had just been a bit wider, the little orc girl might have hidden her whole torso behind it. The girl muttered something Kron didn't catch, and then she let go of his shoulder to try to wrap her hand around his dick, not even close to making it halfway around. As her hand stroked up and down, Kron's urges came to the fore. He released her other wrist, hands coming up under her shoulders to hold her steady against the wall, hips thrusting to slide his cock's length against her little body. As he came to full hardness, the girl took hold of his dick in both hands, leaning her head down to wrap her lips around the cock head. He could sense her sharp teeth, but she had no interest in anything but to lick and suck, such a hot and wet mouth... Her mouth came free with a pop, and she said, "Need... ta get dat pole... in me..." Her breath in short, open gasps, as he reached down to losen her shorts. Sliding them down her thighs, his hands returned to her torso as she wiggled her legs and kicked the shorts away. Her legs went wide, and Kron was presented with a little, hairless orc slit. Crouching low, he brought his cock head down to her green pussy, and without hesitation, stood up to push his cock into her. She grunted as her cunt lips spread, stretching wide over his cock, yet giving way to his huge mass. Her belly distended as his dick pressed further inward, stretching tight but allowing deep entry until the end of his cock was nearly inside her ribs. Only then did he meet resistance. Looking into her face, Kron could only sense lust there. She'd met his pole and wanted it into her as far as it would go. Leaning forward, Kron pressed against her again before setting his hips to thrusting. He could feel her hot breath on his neck, hear her soft moans of pleasure, and he could smell her scent, so different from any human woman he'd been with. More like spice than salt. Against the wall, he fucked her, her legs wrapped around him as tightly as her little girl's snatch wrapped around his cock. And then, he was coming. Perhaps sooner than expected, but no less intensely. Human spunk shot deeply into orc pussy, trying to shove ever deeper, squirting out around her nether lips as her body quivered in response. As his load faded, Kron took her away from the wall, still impaled, and set her down on the floor, fucking her anew as he did. Leaning up on his hands, he watched as her green stomach filled and emptied with each thrust of his hungry rod, stretching inhumanly far to accept the sheer mass of dick. It almost looked as if she was repeatedly swelling with child over and over again. The image made Kron burst again, as she howled in lust at the hot jizz pouring into her. Each throb of cum could be seen in the green skin of her belly, traveling up until it bulged it's way to the end, spreading outwards at the last. Human and orc cum, mixed in the bizarre union, shot out of their joined sexes to splatter against the ground. Kron, some echo of his conscious mind still reeling from the scene before him, got up, his dick draging out of the girl's tight cunt in a slow, wet slurp, punctuated by her grunt as his cock head popped out through her cunt lips, a gush of fuck juice following it. Still rampant, Kron stood there for a moment before the girl, eyes locked onto the slab of masculine meat, got up as well, gripping and licking at his cock. And then, steeling herself, Kron saw the orc girl's jaw smoothly unhinge itself, stretching her mouth open wider and wider, pulling his cockhead into her mouth. It slid down, deeper and further, her tongue sliding around his dick, slathering it in saliva, her neck stretching to twice it's normal width around him as his cockhead visibly passed down into her torso, out of sight. Her large, red eyes locked onto his, her little-girl face stretched out so far around his huge cock, and Kron could feel almost his entire massive member enveloped by this little orc. As he took hold of her twin tail hair, she moaned lustily around his cock and let him thrust her against his crotch, fucking her drooling face relentlessly, hungry for that load of thick, hot, human cum in her belly... It took him two hours to unleash a year's worth of backed-up spunk into the little orc girl's holes, and she took every drop of it without hesitation, and with much enthusiasm. Well, up until she passed out. Kron stopped at that point, letting her lay on the ground face-down, cunt slowly relaxing back to it's original state while her upraised hips twitched in aftershock, little jets of fuck juice squirting with each shiver. Her belly was a little puffed out from all the cum he'd pumped into her from both ends. Far more gunk had spilled out of her, coating her entire face, ass, hair, much of the floor, and a few walls in sexual slime. Watching the orc girl sleep, Kron tried to collect himself, and get his dick back in his pants, thinking about what had just happened. He'd had sex with an orc. Human. Orc. Sex. It was nothing Kron had ever heard of. Everything he'd ever known about orcs, that any in the Empire had known about orcs, was that they were violent, monstrous, almost mindless in their pursuit of war. Kron hadn't known an orc could even be a child, or female. Did the Knights know? Did they care? The war against the greenskins was many thousands of years long, and spanned most of the galaxy. Untold billions had died to orc warbands. Was it possible that the Knights would... Would harm a child to end a war uncounted generations long... He had to leave. Now. He couldn't bring himself to hurt her, but he could never stay, and she could never be seen by a Knight. He would never speak of her. None would know. The camp was gone, one survivor would not matter. Kron composed himself, stowing away his dick, and straightening his uniform. He took up the plasma sword once again, and, with a single look back at the dozing green-faced girl, mouth just slightly open, smiling drool into a shallow lake of fuck sauce, cute little nose twitching at the thick stench of sex as he watched... and then Kron stepped out of the building. "Ye havin' fun, mon?" The words cut through his thoughts like a plasma sword, and his body reacted with Quicksilver speed, drawing his pistol and taking aim towards the voice. Nine Empresses preserve him, it was another one. Not an orc girl. No. Girl, yes. Orc, no. The blue-green skin, the pointed features... It was a troll. A troll girl. She was crouched down some distance away, watching him. Her blue-black hair, running down her back in multiple braids, contrasted her yellow eyes nicely. Little tusks only a few inches long spread outwards from the corners of her mouth. Light tank-top of dark green under a thicker leather vest covered her torso, with knee-length shorts and bared feet below. She held a staff, a length of metal topped with a jawless orc skull and dangly bits made with small gears, bullets, and bits of bone. "If'n I wanted ta hurt ye, mon, I woulda done it when ya were busy stuffin' Zarah, there." The troll gestured with a two-fingered hand towards the building behind Kron. Silently admitting the troll probably had a point, Kron relaxed his aim. Besides, like the orc, he didn't really feel he could harm this girl. As she straightened up, the troll was perhaps a little under six feet, rather small for a troll, and with the slim, lanky appearance of her species, with no breasts to speak of yet, but her hips had a little bit of flare to them. Perhaps she was even younger than the orc... what did the troll just call her... Zarah? In any case, Kron was, for the moment, in no rush to fuck again. Although this troll girl's hips were just the right shape to take hold of and... No. "Then I shall depart in peace. I have no issue with you." He holstered his pistol, stepping back towards the overturned APC. "Goddit, Boss," Kron heard behind him, and he realized Zarah had woken up, standing in the doorway of the building, holding the frame with one hand while trying to steady her clearly wobbly feet. She stepped towards him, flood of mixed white fluids pouring down both legs, as she carefully held her short shorts and stepped into them, dragging the leather upwards to squelch wetly against her leaking pussy. "Lead da way." Kron scowled at her. "No." His voice, deep and implacable, commanded her attention. "I go alone. I care not what you do, but it will not be with me." Zarah blinked, taking a moment before saying, "But Boss..." "No," Kron repeated. "I am not your Boss." That silenced her, her eyes clouded with confusion. But only for a moment. "But I godda, Boss..." A hearty chuckle interrupted Kron's next attempt to correct her. "Don' boddah, 'ummie," the troll girl said. "She's an orc. She godda be wit' her Boss. And dat be you. Well..." she paused to scratch at the side of her face. "Unless some odder mon kills ya. Den he be da Boss." Blue-green shoulders shrugged. "It be da orc mind-work. Even if ya run, she got ya scent, and her scent all over ya. She follow ya anywheres." Frowning at the apparently obstinate nature of orcs, Kron glared at the troll. "And what about you? Are you going to insist on following me?" "Oh, ya not be my boss, mon," she told him, her voice taking on a level tone. "I got reason to be followin' ya, tho." With that, she closed her eyes, leaning over to bob her head up and down. Kron could hear her humming softly. After a few moments, she lifted her face... to look at him with completely blackened eyes. "Greenskin unbred be brought to battle-lust by da tuffest Boss around, and he shield da clan from darkness unbound..." She closed her eyes again, and when they re-opened, her eyes had turned back to yellow irises on white. "Da last Boss t'ought it was about him. Bet dat was a surprise." The orc Boss' last expression flickered across Kron's mind. Surprised, indeed. "Wait," Kron said. "Darkness unbound?" A heavy footfall cut across the trio, and as they turned towards the sound, they saw what had made it. Heavy red armor, shoulder marked with a pair of crossed black swords, three drops of red below them. Another heavy step, an arm rising towards them. It was one of the Squires of Kron's squad. But he could immediately tell something was very wrong. The Squire's movements were jerky, sudden, and disordered. Legs bent wrong, only just keeping the armor upright. And it held an orc rifle. "Seek sanctuary!" Kron shouted a second before the orc rifle began firing. Inaccurate at the best of times, the orc-designed weapon rattled and spat wildly, the arm holding it kicking up and around with barely any direction. But as Kron raised his plasma sword to ready a charge, he felt a blast of energy beside him, a swirling mass of orange light plowing through the air and sand. The fallen Squire, struck squarely by the energy, was bowled over, covered by a cloud of dust. Glancing to the side, Kron saw the troll girl, brow set in furious concentration, staff planted firmly in the ground at her feet. The conical trail of kicked up sand lead right to her. Letting out a sigh, she looked to Kron. "We canna stay here." "What dark sorcery is this?" Kron demanded. "It be da darkness." Lifting her staff, she gestured to the cloud of dust, within which could be seen the Squire's armor, once again slowly lurching to it's feet. "All da freshly dead be comin' back, to kill all dat dey see!" "Nikti's roit!" Zarah shouted. "Dis has been happenin' fer monfs! Why ya think we come so close to da Klankah base? We'z runnin' outta boyz!" Kron felt his blood chill. Darkness, undead, a force so great as to overwhelm even the orc hordes... He'd heard of this. One nightmarish tale told among many. A low sound caught their attention. Deep within the kicked up sand cloud, movement could be seen. More shapes, heaving, lurching, some dragging useless limbs behind. Dead orcs. Without thought, Kron acted. "This way! Now!" Kron pointed down a side path between two buildings, and the three of them fled that way. There was no way Kron could fight the entire camp of undead orcs with one plasma sword and a pistol. They had to leave. But the only real way out... Was back. Circling wide, Kron led the way, cutting through a pair of staggering corpses as they tried to raise weapons. He kept on running even as the pieces tried to claw their way towards them. "Where we runnin', Boss?" Zarah asked as she snagged a fallen weapon, a machine pistol so large she had to hold it like a rifle, casually kicking the dead orc stubbornly holding onto the weapon in the face until it let go. As Zarah started taking shots at any of the dead trying to flank the small group, Kron declared, "There's an APC nearby! It can bear us to sanctuary!" As they rounded one final corner, he heard Nikti speak, voice heavy with sarcasm, "Ya mean da can on it's side?" The APC sat right where Kron had left it, still up on two wheels. "Yes," Kron looked around. They were alone, for now... Distressingly alone. The corpses were gone. All of them. "Do what you did before, Nikti." He gestured a push towards the APC. "That pushing magic. Force it upright." Nikti shook her head quickly. "I canna do dat, it be too big! Mama was a Bokor, but she dinna teach me dat much." Zarah, glancing the overturned vehicle up and down quickly. "Get da can on it's wheelies? Goddit, Boss!" With that, she turned and ran. "Zarah? Wait!" Kron watched as the little orc girl ran into a nearby building. As Kron began running after her, he heard a heavy thud. Turning towards it, he saw the massive arm rise overhead, then slam back down. Dead muscles flexed, and the enormous corpse scraped it's way forward. It was the orc Boss. Eyes staring mindlessly towards Kron, one arm slowly dragging it forward. It might have been bad comedy, if they weren't standing next to the only thing that could get them out of the orc settlement. The Boss' legs clearly didn't work, it could be avoided easily. Except that they couldn't leave the spot they stood on. "Nikti," Kron intoned, as the plasma sword in his hands flared to life. "Find shelter." "Dat not be possible, mon," she said. A glance her way showed that the exit behind them was now full of the staggering fallen. A screeching sound drew their attention, a door grinding it's way open, sparks spraying from it's edges. Through the door came a small greenskin, dragging a metal cable by it's hooked end. "Whatcha' waitin' for! Daka dem! I'h get da can up roit!" Zarah heaved the cable across the space towards the APC. Smiling to himself, Kron readied his sword, then rushed forward towards the dead Boss. Behind him, he heard Nikti's blast heading into the zombie herd. With the flanks covered, Kron focused on his target, turning his run into a diving roll as the massive undead swatted at him, crushing the wall of a nearby building. Cutting and thrusting, Kron struck at the armored head. His blows deflected by the heavy helmet, Kron lept backwards, enhanced legs clearing the orc's arm as it made another clumsy grab for him. Zarah reached the APC and clambered up onto it, jumping clear down the other side before planting the hook. Running back into the building where the cable trailed, the sounds of machinery heaved to ugly life, a cloud of black smoke vomiting out of several roof pipes. The cable pulled taut, then the APC slowly began to be forced back onto it's wheels. From within the building, one could hear a cry of "Go fastah, ya git!" preceeding several metallic clanks. More smoke belched forth, and the cable pulled harder. Nikti fired another blast into the crowding horde, crashing them into each other and into a big pileup. But each time she did, they would slowly drag themselves back up. Stepping back, the young troll glanced around, muttering to herself. "... not workin'. I know it not be workin'..." Looking down another thin path between buildings, she sent another violent swirl down it, kicking the few zombies trying to squeeze through out like shot from a cannon. "... Dis be all we got. No, Bla'gten, we not be runnin' for da hills. I told ya dis be da way. I told... Stop!" Slamming her staff down into the ground, she twisted it quickly to stand face to face with the skull on it's top. Jabbing a finger towards the naked bone, she declared, "I not be havin' dis argument again! We do dis my way! You do as I say, Bla'gten. Now get back ta work!" Spinning the skull back around again, she flexed her will, and magic thundered into the undead. When the thud of wheels hitting the ground sounded behind Kron, he began backing away from the undead Boss. Bearing many more fresh cuts, now, the damned corpse was still trying to kill him. But he had only needed to keep it busy and away. Making one last swing that lopped off reaching fingertips, Kron turned and ran for the APC, which was now slowly being dragged across the open ground. "Zarah! Nikti! Get inside, now!" Zarah came backwards out of the building, machine pistol in both hands, unloading back into the building. From within could be heard more of the undead, almost drowned out by the still-running machinery inside. With a last burst of fire, Zarah ran for the APC, yanking the side hatch open before jumping in, Nikti right behind her. Not pausing his run, Kron swung his burning sword, snapping the metal cable instantly, sending it snaking into the building to whip and hack at the now-emerging undead. Climbing into the APC's driver seat, Kron quickly ran through the ignition rite. The engine roared to life, and as a massive arm rose before them, he gunned it. Tires spinning in reverse, the APC pulled back in time to miss the dead Boss' final grab for it. Shifting back into forwards, Kron turned the APC and plowed through to the exit, orc corpses ground under wheels and flying overhead. Inside, a thick-fingered hand jabbed at a console thick with controls, lights, and screens of text, while a soft mutter overlaid each press of button or control, a soft prayer to the machine spirit, asking for it's aid in contacting a distant mind. The rite complete, that thick hand grabbed up a hand mike and held it close to a square jaw. "Ingvuss base, enlighten! Ingvuss base!" "The Vastness is coming!" Endless blackness. A roiling storm of raw death. The locus of billions of screaming souls. The Vastness was like unto a hole in space, bigger than planets, a hole that drained anything it touched. The signs of it's approach could be subtle. Maddened animals. Sudden panic at nothing. Odd shapes seen in the corner of the eyes. But it all lead to the dead rising from the graves. Initially, only the freshly dead. But when the Vastness arrived, even the oldest bones would claw their way upright. Orjanus had not seen a day of peace in thousands of years. The untold buildup of the dead was incalculable. And the Vastness would raise them all. From the lowest orc to the mightiest of Knights. All raised to kill the living. Ahead of them, a gash in the earth had just given birth to a massive clawed limb, easily as big as their entire vehicle. Unlike the skeletons surrounding the fleeing APC, this limb had flesh attached. Ragged, rotting, torn flesh that flexed and pulled. Rising up out of the ravine, drooping from multiple disconnected muscles, a long and sinuous neck struggled to lift a triangular head. Dislocated jaw sagging, one eye orbit crushed to uselessness, the stinking head turned to glare at the oncoming vehicle, wings of tattered flaps rising overhead. In one heartbeat, the rotten dragon corpse, some monstrous evil long since vanquished, lurched it's head forward and breathed, a blackened sickness that seemed to coil like fire and flow like oil, coming straight at them... Kron yanked on the control yoke, tires screaming as the vehicle tore through a tight turn. The black breath barely missed, tendrils licking at the surface of the vehicle, thin strips of suddenly-appearing rust curling in their wake. Kron turned again, the APC diving behind a pillar of rock as the undead dragon turned it's head around, black breath still flowing. The rock pillar took the brunt of the blast, crumbling to gravel under the dead energies. Engine still roaring, Kron surged out of range of the dragon, but even as he did, he heard Zarah call out. "Boss, dat dead draggie's followin' us!" Behind them, torn wings stretched to latch onto the air, heaving the entire rotting mass up into the sky. Impossibly, the ragged thing turned in a languid, controlled flight to come right in behind the fleeing APC. The turret turned, unabated fire striking the dead flesh in an endless barrage. "I tink it's only getting' maddah, Boss! We need more daka!" Grabbing hold of the hand mike, Kron did his best to steer one-handed through the hordes of rising dead still all around while seeking any brief shelter from the gaze of flying death behind him. "Ingvuss base! Airborne monstrosity is approaching! Vector six, three, nine! We call for immediate intervention!" Around the chaotic battle calls coming over the coms, Kron could hear one clear voice call out, "Six, three, nine! Intervention engaging!" In the distance, Kron could see smoke trails, three of them, quickly rising from the horizon before ever so slowly growing larger and nearer. The APC pulled into a clearing, no cover in sight, the dragon opened it's rotting maw, blackness curling around naked fangs, preparing to rush down on the exposed target. Then the intervention arrived. Three missiles, trails twining behind them, screamed through the air to slam directly into the zombie dragon, exploding in a massive orange fireball. Obscured from vision, Kron briefly wondered at the fate of the foul thing. But only until he could see the huge mass falling, twisting in the air before slamming into the ground. Wasting no time, Kron kept the APC running, as Nikti once again gave her cryptic instructions on the safest route, while Zarah blazed a path ahead with twin chainguns. If the dead dragon was still moving, it was not in their direction, and Kron muttered a prayer of thanks to the Nine for that small mercy. Winding across the desert, Ingvuss base finally came into view, a sprawling mass of towering fortifications, weapon emplacements firing endlessly as it was assaulted from all directions. But, even as the battle raged, Kron could see that the day was being lost. The undead were rising in massive waves, surging forward endlessly. Knights would fight on to their last breath in the name of the Empresses, but every Knight that breathed his last became a new enemy, slaying his fellow Knights with not a single thought. As the APC smashed through a crowd of the dead rushing through torn-open gates, the coms gave a loud crackle, and all other battle chatter was silenced. The voice that then spoke, gravely and dark, was that of the High Paladin of the Sanguine Blades. "All forces, enlighten. Orjanus has been lost. Seek sanctuary aboard the fleet in orbit, if you can. Our engines are powering up for a fast warp. If you cannot reach the fleet in time... May the Nine Empresses have mercy upon your soul." Without a second thought, Kron turned the APC to head towards the air bays. If the High Paladin had ordered a fight to the last, Kron would not have hesitated. But with the order to retreat, he showed equal lack of hesitation in following that directive. Ahead, he could see transports roaring out of the bays at full throttle, wave after wave of them. The APC made one last turn, then braked hard to come to a hissing halt near a still-landed transport. Kron slammed the hatch of the APC open and climbed free, but his eyes turned towards the rear of the bays, to see a raging war within, Sanguine Blade against Sanguine Blade. No more lurching and disordered, the dead were growing in power as the Vastness approached, weapons wielded with all the strength and skill that they had in life, with the utter ruthlessness of the cold dead, and their numbers were growing as more living Knights were sent into death's domain. Rushing up to the open side of the transport, the thunder of approaching fleshless abominations rising behind, Kron yelled, "Prepare for flight! Now!" He heard the engines stirring quickly to life as the pilot worked the controls furiously, alone, his co-pilot nowhere to be seen. Kron quickly grabbed Zarah under her arms to heave her up into the transport, Nikti right behind her, before Kron climbed in as well, slamming the doors shut just as the claws of a rushing undead skeleton tried to reach for him. Engines roaring now, the transport screamed down the runway before pulling up into the air. Behind them, the defenses of the base, still firing at the dead surging in all directions, seemed to pause. Silent for a few moments, the weapons then returned to activity. With a new purpose. Kron's transport banked hard as bullets tore through the air around it. Ahead, he could see the trails of missiles ripping through the air to blow other transports out of the sky. After the first barrage of fire, the base's weapons were joined by a new enemy. Through a port, Kron could see transports assaulted by black-winged horrors, naked bone and raven-dark feathers, pushed to speed by unholy magics. Latching on with hook and claw, the horrors tore through any opening they could find or rend, and transports spun out of control, into death spirals towards the planet below again. "We gotta go fastah!" Zarah shouted towards the pilot. The words seemed to make the pilot jerk upright, as if something had just taken hold of his spine. Turning his head sharply, the pilot looked through his darkened visor into the interior bay. "What in Hades' name is..?" His disbelieving words cut out as window shattered next to him. Kron saw a single boney hook take hold of the pilot's neck, and in the next moment the pilot was gone, dragged screaming out to the terrors being unleashed below. Surging forward, Kron rammed the point of his plasma sword into the fanged face outside the window. When it disappeared, he took position in the pilot's position to take hold of the yoke and try to steady the craft. Watching for a moment, Nikti asked, "Kron, ya know how to fly?" Gritting his teeth, he answered carefully. "Tranport rites are reserved for Squires..." "Roit, one side!" Pushing up into the cockpit, Zarah quickly grabbed the co-pilot's control yoke, her small frame looking very strange among the much larger cockpit controls. Holding herself steady with one hand on the yoke, Zarah started flicking controls around her. "Like I said, we gotta go FASTAH!" Kron felt the force of the thrust slam him back into the wall close behind him. In the main bay, Nikti's feet left the floor for a brief moment, a tight hold on a wall handle keeping her from flying back into the depths of the craft. The transport shuddered and quaked around them as the engines overloaded, the transport ramming through the atmosphere faster than even the horrors could fly. They passed the tattered remains of the mass exodus, and into the darkness of space, now made even darker as more and more stars vanished from view. The Vastness was closing in fast. Ahead, the fleet was still in orbit. But it was faring little better than the base below. From a distance, something barely seen was moving across the deep of space, coiling and twisting as the ships fired upon it, streaks of condensed plasma lending brief shape to the darkness. Escorts suddenly diverted under the dark touch, as if caught in an ethereal current they could not fight. Ship slammed into ship as formations disintegrated, thick metal buckling under the titanic masses colliding. Kron looked over the scene quickly. They needed to land on a ship before that ship entered warp, and yet one that was not about to meet a grim fate from whatever it was attacking the fleet. Deciding, Kron pointed to a ship near the edge of the fleet. "There! Bring us aboard that vessel!" It was a smaller ship of the line, a light cruiser, it's guns quiet, likely trying to reroute more power to the engines for a faster departure. Zarah nodded and bent the control yoke to her will. Panels blaring alarms from overstressed parts, but she ignored them, the red lights flickering across the concentration on her face. As the small landing bay opened it's doors for them, a shuddering explosion spoke of an engine driven far past it's abilities. The transport pulled off course, but Zarah pulled hard on the yoke, Kron trying to help by mimicking her, and between them the transport weaved an unsteady path right into the bay. Metal struck floor in a screech of machine pain, once, and again, the transport hurtling across the bay before slamming into the floor in a comet of fire, the remaining engines reversing to try to slow down before a tangle of wires shot out of floor and ceiling, wrapping around the transport to bring it to a grinding halt just short of the far wall. Behind them, the bay doors rattled their way closed again. As the air sanctifiers activated and restored atmosphere to the bay, Kron forced an unresponsive door open on the transport. Stepping out of the craft, he set a hand on the hull of the battered and tangled transport, softly saying, "Rest now, good servant. Ye have borne us to safety, and we thank ye for your sacrifice." As the two greenskin girls hopped down out of the transport beside Kron, they looked around. "Where's da odder klankahs?" Zarah asked. "Dis not be good juju," Nikti muttered, peering into the depths of the landing bay, drawing Kron's attention as well. Many of the lights seemed to be out. Not uncommon of vessels that see frequent battle, but it did seem oddly dark to Kron. A bit of movement drew Kron's attention. "There. Stay behind me, stay quiet." Stepping forward, Kron spoke up to the approaching figure. "Yeoman Kron, reporting for sacred duty..." "Kron," Nikti's voice cut in. "Dat not be no klanker!" Pale as salt, shining with eerie glow, dressed in tattered rags that fluttered in an unfelt breeze, the fleshless face of the specter opened it's mouth and screamed. Clawing across his very soul, the sound forced Kron back a step, before he set his feet. Gritting his teeth, Kron lit his sword in a blaze of fury, taking a step forward, then another, momentum building into a run against the unholy gale. Yet even as he approached, the specter screamed, unmoving, unending... Until with a two-handed hack, plasma carved a path right down the center of that dead skull. The specter faded away, and the scream faded with it. Kron flexed his jaw, trying to get his ears to pop again. "The ship has been boarded." The ship's guns had been silent. But it was clearly not because it was trying to get into warp. It was silent because the crew had been killed. They had been let aboard by the undead, hoping to savor a close-in kill. "We need to get to the control bridge, if any survive, they would seek sanctuary there." "Roit, Boss," declared Zarah. And with that, the odd trio ran through the ship, footsteps echoing down halls bare of life. No undead crew barred their way, no fresh zombies rose to attack. All was deathly silent as a tomb, save for the ringing of Kron's boots on metal floors. When they finally reached the door to the bridge, they finally met a barrier. Kron grunted as the control panel next to the door blared at him. "I do not know the proper rites for this door." Turning to the door itself, he attempted to wedge the metal core of the plasma sword in between the central crack. "Dis da only way in?" Zarah asked. When Kron responded in the affirmative, his attention on the door, Zarah said, "Time for da orc lockpick, den." With nothing more, Zarah lifted her assault pistol and blasted the control panel with a long burst. Reaching into the now-exposed guts of the machine, she pursed her lips, looking skyward as she felt around inside. A brief spark of energy flared, and the doors suddenly shot open. What they saw was the stuff of nightmares. The ship's crew, what remained of their corpses, desiccated and gaunt, turning to stare with empty eye sockets, mouths open and slack, incessantly moaning in endless hunger. Between them floated darkened clouds of miasma, only just suggesting the shape of fanged and horned skulls floating above long, cruel talons. One dark wraith floated above the rest and howled, a signal for all the rest to attack. Kron raised his blazing plasma sword, ready for his last battle, but behind him he heard soft chanting, followed by the ringing sound of staff striking floor. Spherical light blasted past Kron, and towards the dead masses. To a one, they recoiled, stepping back, but staying in arm's reach as the wall settled. Now and again, dead hands reached to touch the wall, only to recoil at the energies that grounded into them. Kron glanced behind him, to see Nikti bobbing her head up and down, chanting all the while, the skull on her staff glowing with intense light. Deciding, he shouted, "Push forward!" Plasma sword swung and hacked, the blade slipping past the edge of the field to cut and burn. Orc pistol rattled, ignored by the wraiths, but solid bullets proving effective against the gaunts below them. Slowly, the bubble of light pushed forward, wrapping over and around any dead unable to get out of the way, their bodies bursting into flames that consumed them whole, leaving nothing but ash. Inch by inch, step by step, they forced their way onto the bridge. "There! Head there!" Kron directed, and Nikti changed her course, up steps to the pilot's station. Furious, the wraiths redoubled their attacks, and Nikti grunted as more energy was taken from her shield. Kron swung high, trying to force the wraiths back, but they simply drifted out of reach above them before striking again. But the dead could not stop their march. As the sphere wrapped around the pilot's station, Kron stepped up to it to look it over. But it's controls and displays were an utter mystery to him. "Zarah, do you recognize any of this?" Pausing her firing, Zarah took a quick look. "Uh... Yah. Dose are controls... Dunno what dey do, tho'." Kron grunted in frustration. "Try to figure out how to get us into warp. We cannot remain in this space." As Zarah began studying the panel, Kron looked back, and saw Nikti sinking to one knee, her teeth grinding from the strain. Rushing back to her, Kron set a firm hand on her back, helping her back to her feet. "Stand strong, Nikti." Her blackened eyes met his as she set an unsteady foot down. He stared hard into those alien eyes, declaring, "If this is to be our end, then let it be known we fought to the last against the impossible, side by side." Her eyes held his for a bit, seeing the hard core of will in his face. Then, her own face taking a determined look, she nodded, then resumed her chant, before slamming her staff against the floor once more. Light flared, and the bubble suddenly grew a pace, setting several wraiths ablaze as they suddenly found themselves inside the barrier. On the main display, dominating the center of the room, a floating hologram taller than a Knight and twice as wide, of the planet and the ships around it, a hazy indicator could only suggest at the location of the approaching Vastness. A brief flare of light, and a ship disappeared off of the edge of the display, a clear sign of it going into warp. Then another, and more. Kron knew that in moments, the surviving fleet would escape, and they would be alone against the entire attention of the Vastness. "Boss, I can' figger dis out! It's not listenin' to me! Should I lockpick it?" "No!" Kron called out, halting Zarah's raising weapon. Glancing back, he saw the light barrier had expanded past the Captain's throne. Rushing back to the grand seat, Kron looked at the lit panels built into each arm. Sitting down in the throne, Kron tried to deduce the controls... And finally decided. His hands hovered back and forth across the controls, a prayer drifting from his lips, a desperate prayer, the most desperate of beseeches to the Empress of Misfortune, emptying his mind, letting his hands drift upon the whims of barely felt eddies, the prayer ending just as his hands lowered onto the panel. Controls lit up across the pilot's station, and across the bridge entire. Something in the deep bowels of the ship awoke, and all could feel the ship come to life. Zarah, turning back to the station, started jabbing controls wildly. The ship shook and heaved as commands were executed with only the barest of guesses, the bow yanking around wildly as thrusters fired... Around them, everything bent and twisted, reality itself being wrung as the engines battered their way into warp. The bridge curled back into view as warp was achieved, a central display showing Orjanus rapidly vanishing behind them as the ship sped away. And then the small ship was surrounded on all sides by curling and twisting lines. As they touched the little ship in the hologram, Kron felt the entire vessel around him quake. "Drop out of warp now!" The little ship jerked in the display as a tangle of twisted lines hit it, and the vessel bucked hard under their feet. Zarah was already furiously trying to work the controls, but it took several more hits before she could guess the sequence. The quakes stopped, and the bridge wrenched around again, as the engines brought the ship back into normal space. With a heaving shudder, the stars returned on the display, and the ship ground to a halt. All was quiet. Nikti let the shield drop, slowly sagging tiredly down onto her butt, as around them on the bridge was nothing but a few stray bits of ash. No corpses, no wraiths. Without the proximity of the Vastness, the dead could not hold their existence on this plane. Kron stood from the Captain's throne, stepping forward towards the main display. He could hear Zarah whooping with jubilation, the rush of escape driving her to jump and pump her fists in the air. But Kron could only stare at the display. Eventually, Zarah noticed Kron sweeping past her, and her gaze was drawn to the hologram ship, floating among the stars. "Hey, Boss," Zarah asked. "Where are we?" Nikti answered for him. "We be nowhere..." ***** This is a work of fiction, if that wasn't clear enough. Nothing I write about has ever or will ever occour in reality. Any resemblence characters may have to real people is entirely coincidental and unintentional. And I can not and will not condone real sexual activity involving minors. I do however, condone positive feedback, and encourage it. :) If you feel like sending me some feedback, you can reach me at zorlond AT yahoo DOT com.

Author: Zorlond Title: Kron, Knight Errant Part: Chapter 02 Summary: The Adventures of Kron, a powerful warrior in a universe of technology and fantasy. Keywords: Mf, Mdom, teen, piv, impreg?, non-sexual viol, magic, penis size Chapter 2 "ATTEN-SHUN! FALL IN!" The bellows rolled over the crowd of people clustered together in an open sheet of metalcrete. All were dressed in drab coveralls, and many looked like they weren't certain about being there. "WHEN YOU HEAR THE WORDS 'FALL IN' YOU WILL DO SO! STAND TWO YARDS APART FROM THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU! IF YOU DON'T KNOW HOW FAR THAT IS, HOLD BOTH ARMS OUT WIDE, IF YOUR FINGERTIPS CAN TOUCH THEIR FINGERTIPS YOU ARE TOO CLOSE! NOW FALL IN! FASTER! ARMS DOWN! TIME FOR YOUR FIRST INSPECTION!" The man in full combat armor who had been shouting at the crowd lowered his voice to a lesser, yet still commanding, volume as he walked down the ranks looking over those assembled. "I am Sergeant Tanner. You will address me as Sergeant or Sir. Is that clear?" A random assortment of assents rumbled out of the crowd. "I said IS THAT CLEAR?" This time he got a somewhat ragged batch of 'yes sir's. Tanner snorted loudly. "What a disgrace. I have never seen in my twenty years of service a sorrier sack of filth as you lot." He paused to noisily spit onto the ground. "Every stinkin' year, they throw me a new batch of rotten criminals to train. I don't give a rattac's soggy ass what you did to make you come to the System Guard, but I know most of you are avoiding execution by being here. And if you can't cut it, I have absolutely no problem sending you off to your firing squads. Or," he paused to dramatically wave around to the nearby walls surrounding this corner of the training base, "If you'd rather save a trip, we can handle it right here and now." Up on those walls armed and armored soldiers marched back and forth, some eyeballing the assembled recruits as if casually waiting for the order to open fire on the entire lot. Apparently having finished with the general intimidation factor, Tanner moved on to individual intimidation, calling out any inadequacies, real or imagined, that he saw in each recruit. And then, as he came down the line, he paused. "Damn, you're a right big bastard, ain'tcha? What's your name, boy?" "Kron, sir," he smoothly replied, carefully staring off into the horizon. "You sure you're in the right place, boy? We don't train ogres here." Tanner glared up at Kron, the crest of his head not quite reaching Kron's chin. "Ogres need 'special attention'." He drew out the phrase in a mocking sing-song. "They just can't handle the intellectual intricacies that we demand." After a moment, Kron replied, "I believe my intellect is more than capable of handling any intricacies you demand of me, sir." Tanner squinted his eyes at Kron for a moment, brow darkened by the edge of his helmet, as if trying to divine if someone was prompting his words. "You sure you ain't got any ogre blood in you, boy?" Considering, Kron decided to answer with, "I never felt the need to ask my mother about it, sir." Tanner kept his gaze on Kron, and Kron kept his gaze on the horizon. After a moment, Tanner shouted, almost in Kron's face, "GET DOWN AND GIVE ME FOURTY!" Without pause, Kron got down where he stood and started doing push-ups in a rapid, steady rhythm. He'd rather expected it when the sergeant decided to single him out. There was a good half dozen others also struggling through their own push-ups already. Of course, Kron wasn't struggling in the least. Most of the time he did this particular action, Dani was under him having a wonderful time. Tanner watched him for a moment before moving on to the next victim. In due time, his bellow was heard over the recruits once more. "ALRIGHT YOU LOT! LAPS AROUND THE COMPOUND! HUT TWO HUT TWO! GET THOSE LEGS MOVING!" What followed was the expected hard training regimen, running laps, hauling loads, and lots and lots of yelling. As the recruits wheezed and strained through the work, Kron did all that was ordered without any trouble. Long years in the mines had given him strength and endurance well beyond what the other recruits could offer. So many days, the recruits returned to their barracks gasping for air and moaning about their aching muscles. Kron almost seemed to glow. After weeks of physical training, a slightly smaller crowd of recruits fell in before a squat structure near the base's medical facilities. "I bet you are wondering why I brought you all here," declared Tanner. "Some of you might even be wondering why none of you have so much as laid hands on a weapon since you came here. Well, this is not where you get to lay hands on said weapons, but I will tell you that you NEVER WILL until you go through these doors and endure what lays beyond! Form orderly lines and step inside when called!" With that, he marched up to the doorway's control panel and pressed a button. "We are ready." A few moments later, the door slid open, and out stepped a surprisingly short and thin creature. Kron's eyes slipped from their careful horizon stare, but that brief slip was more than enough. It was a young woman, short, dark hair and almond eyes, barely more than five foot tall. She couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen. Army shirt and pants that looked a little too big for her, army shirt left open to show a black t-shirt under it. She looked over the recruits with a level gaze, then made a sweeping gesture. "First ten of you guys, get in here." With that, she turned around and went back inside. Kron and the other nine walked into the building behind her, following her through long corridors before turning to head into a large room. The roof turned out to be clear, and above them, more armed soldiers stood watch. A few more soldiers stood within the room, though they didn't have any obvious weapons. Down both sides of the large room were metal tables, above which hovered a dozen or more mechanical arms bearing a variety of tools and harsh lights. The girl gestured to the two closest tables without turning around to look at the recruits. "First two, shirts off and lie down. Rest of you, same deal. Get your shirt off and get on a table." The recruits slowly split off as they walked down the center of the room, various men and women standing nearby to approach as they lay down. Kron took a table as directed, second from the end, taking his shirt off casually and dropping it next to the table. Looking up, he watched a man with grayed temples look over him slowly. "My, my, you're a fine specimen, aren't you? Let's get to work..." As the man reached up to take hold of one of the tools hanging from the mechanical arms above, he stopped when a hand set on his shoulder. "Hold on. We gotta swap." The girl from before stepped into view around the older man, jabbing a thumb towards the table next to them. On it, the man who lay there shirtless was displaying a rather massive tattoo across his torso, a fanged snake with mouth wide open, staring straight out, the word 'DEATHADDERS' across the top. Clearly some form of gang mark, one that must have taken many hours. "Ah, yes," the man said. "This will be good as well." The man stepped away from Kron's table to step over to the former gang member. The man casually reached out to one side to snag the leading edge of a sliding curtain. "Tell me, would you like some leather to bite?" His words ended with the hiss of the curtain sliding to hide them from view. The girl gave a brief mirthless snort. "Sucks to be him, right now." As she walked up to Kron's table, he got a better look at her. Slim fingers took hold of one of the lights above them, as she casually adjusted the height of his table with her other hand. Her right eyebrow was pierced with a pair of barbells. A small loop pierced the left corner of her mouth. A dark swirl on her neck hinted to some ink heading towards chest and shoulder, and a bit more peeked out from under the cuff of her sleeve. As she sat down on a stool next to the table, she slowly took in Kron's bared chest, muscles bulging under his skin, a bit more defined than usual thanks to the heavy training. She took a slow breath. "Um, okay... I guess we get started." Kron noted the slightly ragged breath, the hint of uncertainty in her words, the slight tremor in her hand as it brought down a tool arm and approached his skin. He didn't visibly react, merely lay there quietly, watching her. The tool in her hand looked rather like a tattoo gun, the thin tube feeding into it from the ceiling glowed a soft purple, and the holy seal of the First Empress was emblazoned in iron on it's side. Around them, loud buzzing started up as the other artists got to work, and very quickly followed the grunts and pained yells of recruits getting their tattoos. From the looks of it, everyone was getting the same tattoo, letters right across the left breast. On the other side of the closed curtain, the former gang member was particularly loud. No doubt from his former affiliation being thoroughly removed. "Could you just lower your arm? I need to get in here..." Kron easily complied, letting his left arm dangle from the edge of the table to let the girl scoot in. His skin was clear, unblemished, a perfect canvas. Well, aside from the shapes created by his bulging musculature, which seemed to thrum slightly under her sensitive fingertips. She considered his chest silently for a few moments more, and then, with a slow breath, activated her needle gun and got to work. When the buzz began, Kron set his jaw and made no sound. And during it all, Kron could hear the girl chanting, words striking out from her mouth as precisely as needles. Thin glowing trails of light curled out from the fingertips of her free hand, arcing over to touch the skin just under her needles, the magic subtly sneaking in with the ink. Into his skin, ink and magic was placed, glowing bright purple as it entered, darkening to a near-black as the needles moved on. Under her skilled fingers, the letters began to form words, words that seemed to be etched deeper than a mere tattoo. Closing his eyes, Kron could see the words forming in his mind's eye, marking his very soul. Almost subconsciously, Kron's hand twitched, moving slowly across the floor. Fingers touched booted ankle, skimming upwards to contact calf through the baggy pants. His thick fingers gripped her calf for a moment, feeling her hidden curve through her pants. Her chant paused, and as Kron's hand continued slowly upwards to pass knee and up to thigh, he heard her inhale sharply. His strong, thick fingers started to slowly trace back to the curve of her little ass, when her words cut in. "Uh, you may want to... stop. You're being really... really distracting right now. If I screw this up, I'm gonna have to rip it all out and start over." Kron paused for a moment, then let his hand fall away. He opened his eyes again to look at her, biting her lip as if she was trying not to beg him to keep going. She leaned over as she got back to work, perhaps a bit more closely than needed. As she began her chant again, needles buzzing away, Kron could feel her small breasts pressing against his side, little hardened nubs poking through her t-shirt and into his skin. They dragged along as her work and the text continued, almost as if they were trying to etch a different sort of pattern into him. As the work continued, and the words grew in length and density, multiple lines of text now, all in sharp gothic script, Kron's hand returned to her leg, just staying down on the calf, lightly rubbing and squeezing at it. She made no verbal reaction, though he could see a bit of sweat damp her brow. He let her work, trying not to distract her too much, and as she approached the final words of the text, Kron began to softly speak. Eyes closed again, he read the words that had been carved into his skin and soul, deep voice adding gravitas to their meanings. As he did, his hand once again slid up her leg, up her thigh to take firm hold of her hip and ass as the final words were simultaneously tattooed into his skin and uttered from his lips. "I stand on the line between order and chaos. Evil shall rush at me, and will break upon me, and I shall not be moved. For I am the wall that guards the Empire and it's people, my duty shall not be swayed, and my will shall not be broken..." Under her hands, the girl watched as the entire block of text glowed and shimmered, the ink moving within his skin, straightening and neatening lines, and somehow becoming more real as she watched. And then it pulsed, growing briefly across his chest before settling back down to where she had placed the ink. And then the words were still. Kron's eyes opened again, and looked at her. For a moment, she thought he might pull her in to kiss her... and she wanted him to. "The Oath of the First Empress." The words came from his mouth, a clear statement. She paused for a moment, mind changing gears, before nodding. "Yes. All the System Guard get it. An oath to protect the Empire and it's people..." "Protect, whatever the cost." He seemed closer, his eyes on hers, so strongly, so close. Her breath came at a whisper, moving on it's own. "It's the only way the Empire could ever trust criminals enough to be soldiers." It all stopped. Her words hacked right through whatever was going on between them, and it was done. Kron's strong hand left her ass once again as he slowly sat up on the table, turning away to set his feet down and snag his discarded shirt. Behind him, she buried her face into her hand, mentally kicking herself. She just had to say it. Just had to call him a criminal. Untrustworthy. Dangerous. Had to be magically sworn to service. When she really just wanted him to service her, just rip her pants off and shove his face into her snatch, licking her up to a quick cum before getting on top of her and... "Thank you for the work," Kron told her, after getting his shirt back on, hiding the tattoo once more. "I'm guessing you have more recruits to work on. I'll leave you to it." With that, Kron walked to the exit. She watched him go for a moment, then sighed heavily and called over the next recruit in line, gritting her teeth to get her mind back on track. Hopefully she could get back to work without turning the sacred oath into a litany of debauchery. That night, recruits compared tattoos, pointing out the quality of some of the work, and having a laugh at the 'Deathadders' guy, who would only state that it hurt to breathe. Kron didn't join in with the revelry. He hadn't expected his first tattoo to be so... intimate. Well, as intimate as it could be with armed soldiers watching. And the reminder of what sort of person ended up in the System Guard. All now bound by the oath carved over their hearts, to protect the Empire and it's people. To protect her... He didn't even have the chance to get the tattoo girl's name. The next few weeks continued the physical training, supplemented with weapons practice, firing and rites of maintenance of the standard-issue weapons for a System Guard: A rifle that fired short or long bursts of magnetically-propelled metal slugs, an under-slung grenade launcher armed with fragmentation grenades, and a sidearm, of similar design to the rifle, used for a backup. On rare occasion, they were issued high-explosive hand grenades for anti-vehicle duties. And, of course, the armored uniforms of the System Guards, which they would now wear for most of their lives. Being familiar with the inner workings of a mining cart, Kron could grasp the basics of how the weapons were put together and taken apart for maintenance, that was no surprise. The fact that the rifle felt so sure in his hands, and how easily he could hit a target was. Sure, a few recruits could put individual rounds in the very center one after another. But Kron could empty his rifle in one mass-burst and put every round within the inner circle. He did equally well with grenades and pistol. Training, for him, was merely a matter of improving reaction times and being more comfortable with the weapons. As the initial weapons training ended, the recruits were divided for more specific training, based on performance. Kron was assigned heavy weapons, tripod mounted assault weapons as long as a man was tall, intended to saturate an area with flying metal. Normally assigned to a two or three man team, Kron was expected to handle the weapon alone, perhaps in an attempt to break him with it's mass. But soon, he was lugging around the massive weapon and ammo crate with it's connective ammo belt, with as much speed as he could muster, getting it down and ready to fire, blasting the target, then swapping to rifle to hit a fresh target off to the side, all while the thick armored plates of his uniform weighed him down. And always someone screaming into his ear to do it faster, better, sharper, striking at every exposed part of him with a crop. And Kron did. With the second round of training done, the recruits were called to fall in on the aircraft tarmac. In full combat gear, Kron stood quietly, assault gun weighing down a shoulder, handle of the ammo crate digging into his fingers. Before them, Sergeant Tanner looked over the recruits. "Recruits," he began, "You are about to undertake the hardest mission of your lives. And while this mission is for the sake of your training, the gentle treatment you have been receiving ends now. Your lives and deaths are what is at stake. And in the future, should you pass this training, your lives and deaths will determine whether or not the Empire itself lives or dies. Meet this with equal determination as will be expected of you in the future." As Tanner spoke, some Guardsmen walked among the ranks, buckets of paint in one hand, and with the other, crudely slopping red paint by the fistful onto the armor of each recruit. Helmet, shoulders, chest, and back, all were marked in red. Overhead, engines screaming, several VTOL combat transports made their landing approach on the tarmac. "As of today, you are Red Squad! You will board the transports coming down behind me! And you will be taken to the mission site! There is a Holy Shrine to the Third Empress at the mission site! You will take this Shrine, and you will hold it! Enemies will come and try to take it from you, but you will repel them! Do this until you are relieved!" As the transports landed and brought their engines down to idle, Tanner stepped forward, looking into the eyes of each recruit in turn. "I want this to be absolutely clear. ANYONE who is not a part of Red Squad is to be considered an ENEMY and SHOT ON SIGHT! I don't care who you think they are! If they are not Red, they are dead! If they get the chance, THEY WILL KILL YOU! I expect them to be dead first!" "The only exception will be anyone marked in black. They will not be involved in the mission, and you will not interfere with them. I repeat, Black Squad is NOT to be shot at, struck, or even talked to. They will do their job, and then leave. You will continue your mission until I relieve you over comms. IS THAT CLEAR?!" Kron joined in with the yell of "YES, SIR!", even as the soldier came by to mark him. Head, then shoulders, chest, and back. When all were suitably marked, Tanner gave them the command to move out, and they all stormed into their transports. Kron secured his gear and got into his seat, strapping down within seconds of boarding, the rest of Red Squad right behind him. With a roar of engine power, the transport took to the air, and tore across the sky to their destination, outer doors sliding closed as it straightened it's ascent. As the craft settled into a cruise, Kron softly patted the bare panel beside him, muttering a soft prayer of thanks. Perhaps a bit old fashioned, but he always found machines behaved well when treated well. The transport climbed high, past the clouds, past the ambient glow of the mid-day sun, skirting the edge of the upper atmosphere to achieve speeds untouchable within atmosphere. Within half an hour, the transport descended again, winds turned to screaming plasma around the craft, licking at the window slits. The craft rocked and bumped, every bit of uneven air thudding into the craft to be felt inside. More than one recruit's face turned greenish as their insides were violently shaken. Kron hung in there, unmoved, until the flames died down and the craft doors slid open once more. He readied his rifle to generally aim out the open door, towards the landing site. It was a great plateau, a few miles across, wreathed in clouds and covered in lush forest. In the very center, somewhere within that forest, a point of bright green light could be seen. To either side, the other transports held their formation, doors open and others of Red Squad ready to disembark. As the transport approached a clearing on the edge of the plateau, Kron scanned the site. No enemies revealed themselves, and when the transport touched the dirt, Guardsmen poured free as Kron quickly retrieved his assault weapon and crate from storage. The moment he stepped out of the craft, it immediately blasted back into the air, closely followed by the other transports, rapidly flying back above the clouds. In moments, Red Squad was alone. The squad took loose formation and moved out quickly, training kicking in. Kron marched with them, assault gun on his shoulder, ammo crate by his side. The forest grew around them, light fading to an ever-present green in the thick air. Their march was mostly uneventful, stopping twice to send a few scouts ahead to get their bearings. The forest was tricky, meandering paths and uneven ground hidden by the density of trunks and bushes. But, as the scouts returned after the second stop, word came that the shrine was in sight. Kron marched from the dense forest into a large clearing, at the center of which the ground rose unevenly, but steadily, to the foundation of the shrine itself, a grand edifice of bright metalcrete marbled with green veins, golden accents carved into vines and leaves seeming to crawl up the walls. The dome roof was a lattice of arches and gold vines, supporting a statue of the Third Empress, upraised hands holding aloft a massive crystal that glowed a bright green, clearly the light that had been seen from the landing site. Kron took it all in slowly, before his senses caused his head to turn to the left. A moment later, another Guardsman called out of movement in that direction. Red Squad hastened to defensive positions, Kron ducking down behind a small rise, getting his ammo crate set down and connected to his weapon. A moment later, another squad mate called out again. "Hey, it's more Guardsmen! Yo! Over here!" The Guardsman stood up, waving his hand. The Guardsman took multiple hits in less than two seconds. He was already dead by the time the body hit the ground. The air around Red Squad turned into a lethal barrage of fire, all of them scrambling for what cover they could. One slammed into the ground beside Kron, ducking flying metal, shouting, "Empress of Misfortune, what are they doing?! We're Guardsmen!" Another squad mate nearby cried out, voice rising to be heard over the scream of bullets, he shouted, "Their armor is marked in blue! Remember your orders! If they are not Red, they are Dead! RETURN FIRE!" Rifles came up and began unloading, all aimed at the figures on the other side of the clearing. Kron got his assault weapon up, tripod set on top of the rise, and held down the trigger. In his sights, Guardsmen with blue-marked armor took his fire and fell. His thoughts were not on the insanity of firing upon those who should be allies, but on returning fire upon those that had struck first. Sweeping across their formation, any blue helmet that strayed too long into sight was cut down by Kron's fire. Less than a minute after the firing began, the ragged few blue-armored men fell back into the forest, quickly lost from sight. Red Squad stayed in position a while longer, weapons carefully scanning the forest for any sign of movement. Eventually, it became clear that the fire fight was done. Around him, Kron could hear the groans of the wounded and dying. What few Guardsmen with medical training began tending to the wounded. "You men, care for the wounded. Rest of you, let's take the Shrine." When the call came out, Kron lowered the assault gun and left it there, figuring the medics could use it for cover if needed. Unslinging his rifle, Kron followed the uninjured up into the Shrine. The structure was several stories tall, it's height supplemented by half from the statue on it's roof. The open archway led inside, where the sun poured down openly from the lattice roof. Inside the building was a single grand room, the center dominated by a pedestal ten feet tall, supporting another statue of the Third Empress. This statue was of her kneeling, arms out wide, as leafy plants and vines wrapped gently around her in an almost sensuous manner. Her face turned down slightly as if to stare quietly at any who approached the altar set before the statue. Behind him, Kron could hear a squad mate mutter, "Third, third... Can never recall. Plants, right?" Kron softly spoke over his shoulder, eyes scanning the room intently for any danger. "The Third Empress is the Empress of Life. Plants, yes, but also animals, and our own bodies." There were four main archways entering the Shrine, evenly spaced around the circular structure. Between each set of archways were pairs of minor shrines to the other Empresses, allowing the worship of all nine if desired. A search of the main floor turned up no threats. Orders were passed out to bring the wounded inside while defensive emplacements were set up outside each archway. Kron retrieved his assault gun and set it up pointing towards the side of the clearing the blue Guardsmen had been seen. With the rising slope and low cover, he would have a punishing advantage from there. Down the hill, he could see the bodies left from the battle. It seemed unlikely that the Blues would try to retrieve them, but Kron kept watch all the same. It was a few minutes later when a whine of distant engines revealed to be a pair of transport craft coming to the Shrine. Black stripes down both wings and fuselage were clearly visible, and as they very carefully landed on the slope, several Guardsmen in black armor stepped out of one. The other looked empty. Kron took note of them, but as ordered did not interfere. They quickly ran over to where much of the enemy Guardsmen had fallen, and began taking weapons from the bodies. It wasn't until they started carrying corpses back to the transport that Kron started watching them intently. "What're they doing?" a Guardsmen asked beside Kron. "I don't know," Kron muttered. He scanned the forest more, but always kept an eye on the odd behavior. Corpses were hauled to the empty transport and strapped into the seats. Corpse retrieval might be explained as being for burial, but why strap them into seats? It wasn't until the black squad was nearly done that Kron had his answer. A blue Guardsman, flat on the ground, cold and dead, suddenly sat up. Kron didn't react at first, just staring at what should have been a dead soldier, but when that Guardsman raised his rifle, Kron quickly took aim at him. The black squad got to him first, however, two men assaulting the not-so-dead Guardsman with bare hands, disarming him and beating him down quickly and efficiently. Kron relaxed his aim, and the black Guardsmen continued their work, quickly getting the last bodies to the transport. From his perch, Kron could see that the bodies that had been strapped into seats were starting to move, as if waking suddenly from deep slumber. "Take my station," Kron declared to the squad mate beside him. Turning the assault weapon over, Kron unslung his rifle and began running, into the Shrine and along the outer wall to the other archway. His fast and noisy run drew attention, and a few more squad mates fell in behind him as he ran out the other arch, expecting attack. But what they saw as they followed Kron outside was the patch of forest they had first arrived from. And about half a dozen red-marked Guardsmen sitting up where they had fallen. "By the Empresses," Kron heard muttered behind him. He slowly marched down the slope to the site, others falling in step behind him. As he came close to one of the sitting Guardsmen, he looked up at Kron. His eyes were unfocused, confused, mouth hanging open. When his eyes did manage to focus on Kron, his arm came up, eyes turning to fear. Kron immediately lunged forward, blocking the rising rifle. Knocking the weapon aside, Kron took hold of the confused Guardsman's shoulder and pushed him down, pinning him. "Stop! Stop!" Kron forcefully told him as he struggled weakly. "I'm not your enemy. Focus. There's no enemies here." Weapons fire burst out behind Kron. Looking over his shoulder, he could see a standing Guardsman, wobbling and slowly spinning in place, rifle firing randomly at the other guards that had followed Kron down. Shouted words were ignored, and when a shot managed to hit one of the Guards in the shoulder, more fire rang out and the confused Guardsmen dropped dead. Again. Looking back down at the Guard pinned under him, Kron told him, "Focus. Regain your senses. We are not your enemy." Seeing comprehension slowly returning to the Guard's eyes, Kron asked, "Are you alright? Are you back now?" The Guard nodded, and Kron released him, offering a hand up, which was taken. The Guard seemed a little wobbly on his feet, but sane once more. Around Kron, more fallen of Red Squad were awakening, and following his example, Guardsmen were taking hold of weapons and arms, waiting for their owners to fully awaken before releasing them. Medics came rushing down from the shrine, checking over those who had risen from death as if awakening from slumber. Each one was declared alive, in full health. Confusion upon awakening faded, and soon all but the one dead body was declared fit for duty. Kron looked down on the freshly re-fallen corpse. Pointing at it with a commanding finger, he declared, "Disarm him completely, before you take him up to the Shrine. Medics, keep very close eye on him, and have two men ready to secure him when he awakes." Unquestioning, Red Squad followed his orders, and he led the way back up the slope to the Shrine. Upon entering the arch, Kron turned to head towards the small aid station that had been set up for the wounded. Following a suspicion, Kron walked over to one of the medics watching. "Check the wounds on this man," Kron told him, indicating a Guardsman with a heavy bandage on his leg, drenched in red. The medic did as Kron asked, carefully peeking under the bandage at first, then pulling it away. The leg was undamaged, skin splattered with clotted blood but whole. As surprise spread, Guardsmen checking their wounds and finding none, Kron stepped away, to the altar of the Shrine. More vine decorations curled along all sides of the altar, and in the center of the altar sat a book, held open and in place by the golden vines. Looking at it, Kron could see that it was a manuscript, handmade, probably thousands of years old and magically preserved by the altar itself, detailing this Shrine to the Third Empress. Reading it, Kron reverently turned the page, thick finger tracing his attention down the words. He stood there, reading, for several minutes before some others of Red Squad came up to him. Without being asked, Kron intoned, "... for this plateau is Blessed by the purity of the Third Empress. Wounds cannot hinder any who are harmed here. Death shall have no dominion here. And thus, the Light of Life shall ever shine..." Kron trailed off, then looked upwards to the statue, the serene gaze of the Empress of Life meeting his own. "We can't die here?" one of the Guardsmen asked. "Why aren't people dragging corpses here and lined up halfway to Hades, then?" "Probably only works if you're killed here," another Guardsman answered. "I'd want to know why this place isn't a fortress." "Empress of plants? Probably can't even chop down the trees. It's wall-to-wall forest out there." Kron held his gaze on the Empress' face a few moments more before speaking, "We have our orders. We hold this Shrine. Man your stations." Even as some turned to go, the sound of gunfire could be heard. Over the comms, the call came of enemy attack on the north side. Red Squad rushed to the defense of the Empress' Holy Shrine. Kron had to retrieve his assault weapon and set it's tripod facing this new attack, a fresh squad of System Guards with armor marked in yellow. Having the high ground and entrenched positions, Red Squad had the advantage, and steadily fought Yellow back to the treeline, but even as the fight neared a close, an explosion rocked Kron's position. The remnants of Blue Squad had crept in close enough to start blasting up the slope with their grenade launchers. Looking over at them, Kron grunted in annoyance. Looking at his assault gun, he unlocked the weapon from it's tripod, lifting the entire weapon and settling it on his hip. Swinging it over to this new attack from Blue, Kron stood at the crest of his little hill and rained death down upon them. His ammo box fed him a steady stream of metal to fuel his furious assault, and the weapon continued to rattle in his hands as it was swept back and forth from one target to the next, then back again as a few more stubborn Yellows tried to rally. Red held the Shrine against both attacks. Black Squad again came in once fighting had stopped, retrieving the fallen from Blue and Yellow before the blessings of the Third Empress could awaken them. Casualties of Red Squad were taken inside the Shrine, where they soon recovered. And the cycle repeated. Attackers came and were repelled. The dead arose to take up fighting once more. That evening, a transport dropped a massive crate at the edge of the slope, filled with ammo. A firefight quickly erupted when Red tried to retrieve it. Red Squad was left there for three days of fighting. Eventually, the word came over the comms. "Red Squad," came Tanner's voice, over the scratchy static. "Stand down and cease hostilities. Return to your drop zone for retrieval." A long and thankfully quiet march, followed by a ride in the air transports, ended in their return to base. After stowing gear in the barracks, they were all immediately marched back out towards medical facilities. As they marched, Tanner told them, "You were sent to the Shrine of the Third Empress as part of your training! You are expected to learn from each and every death you suffer there! Once your training is done you will not be returning to the Shrine! Thus, when you die as a full System Guard upon the battlefield with the Empire's foes, YOU WILL STAY DEAD! You will not allow that to happen! The pain of dying should make it abundantly clear why you will not! Company, Halt! Now..." Tanner lowered his voice as the squad came to a stop before the same building where they had received their oath tattoos. "You are about to get your hash marks. Every time you come back from the Shrine of the Third Empress, you will come here to get them." Reaching up, Tanner undid the chin strap of his helmet and removed it. Turning to the side, he slowly marched down the ranks. "Every hash mark is a death! This shall be a permanent record of your deaths during training. If you earn too many, you are OUT!" As he walked down, his right ear bare and showing seven clearly-seen black lines on it's uppermost curve. "Form up and head inside when called. Tell the technician how many marks to make. Be honest! YOU HAVE BEEN SCRY'D THE WHOLE TIME! Lies will not be tolerated!" Hitting the signal button beside the door, he waited for one of the tattoo artists to come out before going inside with the first batch. Eventually, Kron was brought inside, and as he walked down the tattoo stations, passing Tanner as he supervised the markings, Kron paused for a moment as a Guardsman, right ear freshly marked five times, got up. Smoothly, Kron stepped up to take the vacated seat, a smile upon his face. "Hello," he intoned. The same black-haired girl from before froze for a moment, blinking. "Um, h-hello," she managed. Turning her eyes to her needle gun to fiddle with it a little, she tried to deflect his presence and retain a professional attitude. She cleared her throat and asked, "How many?" Kron's answer was plain. "None." She blinked. "What?" "I didn't die. Not once." She looked into his eyes. "That doesn't happen..." she started. Turning to a console nearby, she tapped out a quick sequence on the buttons. A screen flickered to life, a face forming there. "Need a death count verified." As she spoke to the man on the other side of the comm link, Tanner walked up. "Problem?" he asked. "Uh," the man on the view screen hedged, "No, I was just verifying a death count. Recruit Kron, zero deaths." Tanner scowled, his expression darkening as he leaned over towards the console. "Check again." "Sir, we've already double checked. We didn't believe it either, but the count is zero." Tanner grit his teeth. "And I said 'check again'. Zero deaths on the first stay out at the Shrine is impossible..." Tanner's gaze swiveled over towards Kron. "Unless he is a coward and hid in a hole the entire time." Kron didn't react to the unveiled accusation. The man on the view screen said plainly, "No, he is rated at 97% participation, over 100 confirmed kills." When Tanner turned back to the screen, the man quickly caved. "We'll check again..." Tanner eased back upright. "This will likely take a while." Talking to the tattoo girl, he told her, "Stash Kron somewhere until this can get sorted out. He doesn't leave without an accurate mark count on his ear." "Yes sir," the girl replied. Standing up, she told Kron, "Follow me," before leading off out of the room. Following her, Kron once again couldn't help but run his gaze over her small form. Her head barely came up to his chest, and her lithe mid-teen body looked even smaller in those too-large army clothes. Her short black hair bobbed slightly with her steps as she led him down a set of stairs. Opening a door, she turned the lights on for the room and said, "We use this for storage. Should be alright to stay here for a little bit. Only one door, of course." Around them, supply crates and old tables sat in the gloom. As she turned to face him, she asked, "Anything you need?" Kron thought for a moment. "Well, I'd like to know your name." She actually blushed a little at that. "It's Lin." she said, her almond eyes smiling. Kron smiled. "Then I think I have all I need here, Lin." With that, Kron stepped forward quickly, sweeping Lin up easily in both arms. One hand on her ass, the other in the small of her back, Kron lifted her up into a kiss. Her arms, as if anticipating his move, quickly slipped around his neck to hold his head, her tongue meeting his between their parted lips. Stepping forward, Kron aimed for a bare crate and set her down on it, her hips even with his, hand still gripping her ass to massage it. As their kiss continued, Lin's arms slid down from around his neck, going right for what she wanted. Rubbing at the front of his pants, she moaned softly as she felt the large mass there, growing hard under her touch. Her fingers went for his belt, popping it and getting his pants open to reach inside. She moaned again into the kiss as she came to realize just how big Kron's throbbing member was. And as Kron went for her own belt, Lin wanted nothing more that to have it inside her. She hopped briefly as her pants were pulled down, his thick fingers easily getting into her plain smallclothes and entering her pussy. Kron fingered her steadily, as Lin jacked him off, bringing his cock out fully. With his spare hand, he nudged her open army shirt off her shoulders, where she let it slide off. Under it, her dark T-shirt covered small breasts, but didn't hide the ink all the way down one arm, shoulder to wrist. It was all pastel swirls mixed with hard runes and excerpts from the Empresses' Litanies. And as Kron lifted her shirt, he could see that it extended down over her collarbone as well, a bit of swirl coiling around her breast. Kron grabbed hold of that bared breast, rubbing it firmly as his fingers dove into her pussy. She moaned and shook as her body clenched in a quick orgasm, her juices leaking out around his fingers. As she came, Kron quickly yanked her smallclothes until they tore apart, took hold of his cock, aimed, and pushed his thick cock into her still-quivering cunt. Lin gasped as his dick shoved over a foot deep into her, stretching her widely as it passed. She jerked, lying back on top of the crate, doubling her orgasm in a moment, just from his massive dick entering her. And without pause, Kron found his depth with in her, and began moving in and out. Kron leaned down on top of her as he fucked her, his lips meeting Lin's again in a deep kiss. She moaned into his lips, pussy twitching in an aftershock around his fucking massive cock. She'd never find it's like again, she knew. And it was right there, in Lin's tight little pussy, driving her into another orgasm. Over her, Kron grunted as her cunt shivered around him again, and Lin could feel him coming, hot and powerful jets of spunk going deep into her, each shot massive. Her tight pussy quickly overloaded, mixed spunk leaking out around his dick to drool down his heavy nuts and onto the floor. As their orgasms ended, Lin started to sit up, expecting some nice snuggles and talk. Instead, what she got was Kron pulling out briefly to firmly roll her over, face-down on the crate, before shoving his cock right back into her still-leaking cunt. Realizing that he felt even harder than before, Lin gasped and moaned as Kron fucked her again, his big hands looking enormous on her little ass. As she set her elbows down to lean up a little, Kron bent over and nibbled lightly at the back of her neck. Her legs hung limp, feet nowhere near the floor, wavering back and forth in echo to his thrusts. Their sex now sodden wet from their orgasms, the air filled with slick sounds of hard fucking. In the back of her mind, as her body worked up towards another hard cum, Lin could feel the thought of her being a little lax with her contraceptive medicine of late. And she quickly realized she didn't care one bit. If Kron wanted to fuck his arm-thick cock into her teen twat with the risk of planting his babies in her tiny womb, Lin was going to let him, and let the Empresses decide if it should happen. As her tongue lolled out with the moans of another cum, she felt him speed up, hammering at her pussy with the drive to plaster her insides with virile sperm, to take that hill and plant his flag in it. He grunted, sending his troops into her domain, already so overfull that her pussy gushed mixed white over his crotch. More and more spunk came into her, only to be pushed out by the pressure of more seed behind it. She felt so full, like she had eaten a large meal. And yet, she was only half surprised when he pulled out, only to roll her over again, lift her bodily, and set her right back down on his cock. He turned and set his butt on the vacated crate and held Lin against his body, her weight pulling her sopping pussy down onto his soaked cock once again. Lin cried out in intense pleasure as their fucking once again resumed. When, eventually, Tanner came down to the store room, looking grim, both were fully clothed once more, Kron standing, arms behind him, quietly waiting. Lin stood a ways away, casually leaning on a table with both hands resting on it's surface. Tanner glanced between them before focusing on Kron. "Recruit Kron. Your count has been verified. Zero. Head to the barracks and rejoin your squad." Kron nodded and snapped a salute. "Sir." Tanner matched his salute, and with that, Kron headed to the door. Tanner glanced at Lin once again, then quietly followed Kron out. Lin waited a few seconds after they had both faded from view before skidding down from the edge of the table, arms giving way under her full weight, until dropping the last foot or so to the floor. She felt her pussy, bloated with cun, squish as she landed, and guessed that it'd be an hour before her legs could support her again. She grinned and let the memory of Kron's fucking replay in her mind to occupy her time. That evening, when Tanner returned to his base office, the grizzled sergeant found his desk had been casually pushed aside and a very tall figure standing at his personal console, slowly tapping buttons. "What is this..?" he began, before realizing the shape of the silhouette turning towards him, barely lit by the glow of screens. He immediately rose to attention. "My apologies, my lord. I did not realize..." The figure looked at him for a moment before raising an arm. "Guardsman," it said, in very precise syllables. "Bring me every single scry you have of this man. Immediately." One finger tapped firmly on the screen, metal ticking on glass. On the screen was the unmistakable face of Kron. "Yes, my lord." Tanner gave a sharp salute before marching quickly back out of his own office to comply. Alone again, the figure looked back to the console. A button press, and the scry began playing again, of Kron sweeping the battlefield with his assault gun. Silently, the figure watched. And judged. ***** This is a work of fiction, if that wasn't clear enough. Nothing I write about has ever or will ever occour in reality. Any resemblence characters may have to real people is entirely coincidental and unintentional. And I can not and will not condone real sexual activity involving minors. I do however, condone positive feedback, and encourage it. :) If you feel like sending me some feedback, you can reach me at zorlond AT yahoo DOT com.

Author's introduction: This story is somewhat of a different take for me. Some folks who don't care for my other stories may like this, and some who love my other stories may find this not to their taste. For that matter, everyone may hate it. So be it. :-) As I have often said, I write the kind of stories I want to read. I don't write for others, though I am always glad to know that other folks enjoy what I write. I certainly hope that some of you will enjoy this, and if you do, I love to hear from you. If you don't care for it, sorry. Maybe next time. Disclaimer: This story features adults engaging in adult activities, including driving cars, drinking alcoholic beverages, and so forth. People who are disturbed by such images would be well-advised to quit reading this story, right now. Really. Go ahead. We don't mind. For the rest of you pervs, understand that, as with all of my stories, the stars are all highly-skilled fictional characters, who can do a great many things with ease. Trying to do these things at home is likely to get you arrested, hospitalised, or a a starring role on that wacky new comedy series, "My eye! My eye! Who plucked out my eye?!" Finally, warnings given, let me end by saying, "Enjoy!" An evening with the Anderson's Betty Mannik sat in the front passenger seat of their car. Her husband Alan was driving. The tall, curvaceous brunette was naked, save for a garter belt, stockings, heels, and handcuffs. They were going to the Anderson's. Betty didn't know who they were, but Alan had promised her a night of torture and agony, such as she had long fantasized about. She found her mind wandering back, recalling how she came to this pass. *** Alan and Betty had been married for about seven years. He was programmer for a major internet company, though he had joined too late to cash out and be retired like some of the old-timers there. He was handsome, in a "Gimli the Dwarf" kind of way. He was about average height, five nine or five ten, but almost as wide as he was tall. He had a curly red-brown beard, and long flowing hair of the same shade, that he generally wore in a ponytail, though Betty loved the look when he let it down. She was an English professor at the local community college, teaching Freshmen Composition. She was almost as tall as he, and while far from Rubenesque was also never to be mistaken for a high-fashion model. As she was fond of saying, "Real women have curves!" And she did. Her tits were like melons, and her ass jutted pleasantly out behind her. Her hair was not as long or thick as his, and she often joked that he had gotten her hair. They were in their early thirties, and doing pretty well for themselves. Not rich, by any means, but hardly living hand-to-mouth, either. In short, life was good. They were sexually adventurous, as well. Neither had been a virgin when they married, yet neither had really "done it all" either. They experimented with many things. They tried exhibitionism (hers) and quite liked that. She had a great body, and enjoyed showing it off to others, knowing that all those who saw her would go home and masturbate to what they had seen. He enjoyed the looks he got from other men, the looks that said, "You lucky devil!" They tried bondage, both ways, but both agreed they liked it best when she was tied up. They tried a threesome with another woman, which they also enjoyed. They tried water sports, but neither of them really cared for it. They lay cuddling in the bed, as was their wont, after playing some bondage games, when Betty turned to Alan and said, "I want to be your slave." "What?" "I want to be your slave. When I am home with you, I want you to be my Master, and to make all the decisions in our lives. I want to simply be available to do whatever you want of me, whenever you want it. When I was a little girl, I had fantasies of being kidnaped and sold as a slave to a wonderful man. Well, you are that wonderful man, and I want to be your slave." "I-I-I don't know what to say," he said. "Are you sure?" "Of course. I know you, and I trust you not to do anything to me that would harm me. You love me, and I love you, and this is what I want, my love." "Sounds like a dream come true, but let me just ask a few questions. If you are my slave, does that mean you'll do anything I tell you to do? If I asked you to masturbate, right now, in front of me," a thing which so far, she had refused to do, "would you..." He stopped in mid-sentence as she leaned over to her bedside table and grabbed the vibrator that she kept there for the nights he was on-call or working late, and without a moment of hesitation, began to diddle herself. Soon, she was on the verge of coming. "Stop!" he said. She did, panting and looking disappointed. He, on the other hand, was delighted. "Okay, I accept you as my slave." "Well, actually, there are three limitations: No permanent mutilation, nothing with children, and nothing with scat. Other than that, if you order me to do it, I will. I am yours to command, Master." She said it playfully, but it still sent a tingle down his spine. "Very well, I accept your slavery, with the limitations, and only those limitations, that you set forth. Now, if you are to call me Master, I need a new name for you, too. Betty is fine for your friends and coworkers, but I want to give you a slave name, that will be used only by your Masters and Mistresses. Yes," he said in response to an enquiring eyebrow from her, "I said Masters and Mistresses. I fully intend to loan you to others, to swap you for an hour, and evening, a weekend, or even longer if I desire. Do you understand?" "Of course, Master. I am your slave, your property. Your car has no right to object if you loan it to a friend, nor do I." "Good girl. Now, as for a name...I know. Your slave name will be 'bitty' or 'bitty-betty'." "Eww," she said. "That's what my brothers' called me, growing up." "And it is what you will be called again," he said with a firmness to his voice that she had been hoping to hear. And so it went. They attended a local munch, and met some other singles and couples who were into the lifestyle. They invited a few of the single females to play with them. When the ladies were subs, Alan enjoyed being serviced by two slavegirls, and when they were dom, he enjoyed watching his wife being forced to eat them to orgasm for an hour or more, or being draped across the woman's lap and spanked, long and hard. Alan was happy with the state of their relationship. Betty was not. You see, Betty was a hard core masochist. She delighted in the right kind of pain and suffering. For example, she hated a stubbed toe or a skinned elbow as much as anyone, but a good beating really got her juices flowing. She asked Alan to abuse her more, to spank her, flog her, to cause her pain in new and delightful ways. He tried. He really tried, but he was just not sadistic enough to enjoy torturing her, and besides that, he couldn't get past his love of her to give her what she really needed. She accepted that the only time she would get any of the pain play she craved was when they invited another dom(me) to play with them. And she loved Alan enough that she contented herself with that. *** One Friday, Alan came home from work early. Why, it was barely seven o'clock. He brought Chinese take-away with him (cashew nut chicken for him, deep cooked lamb with onion for her). When she tried to ask why he was home so early, as he was obviously up to something, he just responded, "Hush, my love. You'll see." After they had eaten, and Alan had had a beer (but only one), he took her upstairs. "Strip!" he ordered. He went into her dresser, and pulled out a pair of black lace stockings he had given her for her birthday, along with the matching garter belt. He then grabbed a pair of black pumps with five inch heels, which she had only recently learned to walk in, handed it all to her, and ordered "Dress!" She looked at him for an explanation, but he just said, "Not yet." So she put on the stockings, hooked them to the garters, and fastened the shoes. She looked ravishing. He then grabbed her play collar (a nice leather one almost two inches wide, with padlocks, and D-rings to fasten her as desired) and locked it around her neck. She was excited by this, since it meant she was going to get some quality kinky sex that night. "Come with me," he said, and led her down the stairs, and (rather to her surprise) out into the garage. They had a private, enclosed garage, so she was not exposed to the neighbors, but still. He opened the door for her, and once she was seated in the passenger seat, blindfolded her and shut the door. She heard him get in his side of the car. He started the engine, hit the remote garage door opener, and pulled out. By now she was beside herself with curiosity. At last, he broke the silence. "I know you are wondering where we are going. Well, I have met someone, Master Anderson, who specialises in offering extreme torture for female slaves who need it. We are going to spend an evening with him. Or rather, you are. I will otherwise engaged." "Otherwise engaged?" she thought to herself. "I'm going to be tortured, and he isn't even going to be there?" They drove in silence for a time. Her imagination was working overtime. She couldn't even begin to imagine what Master Anderson had in store for her. Finally, the car slowed, stopped. Alan got out and walked away. A few minutes later, her door was opened. A small, feminine hand removed her blindfold. Betty blinked in the sudden light. When she could see again, she saw a petite, thirty-something woman before her. The woman had long blonde hair in a tight ponytail, medium-sized tits, and very long legs for a woman who probably didn't hit five foot, even with her heels. Betty knew she was a natural blonde, since the woman was dressed in similar fashion to her, to wit, stockings, garters, heels, collar and cuffs, though in the blonde's case, red, not black. The blonde said, "Hello. You must be bitty. This slave was born Tina, but was given the slave name tiny. Please come along. The Master is expecting you." bitty got out of the car and followed tiny up to the front door. There, tiny motioned her to kneel on the front stoop, as she also did. "It is a rule of the house," tiny explained, "that slaves are to kneel on the front step, waiting for the Master to admit them." "But what if someone sees us?" "Not the slaves' concern. If the Masters' wish their slaves to kneel and expose themselves to passing traffic, or to the neighbors, then they must do so gladly. Now, be still. The Master allowed this slut special privilege to speak and explain this to you, but further conversation is forbidden, and will be punished most severely. Trust tiny when she tells you that you don't want that punishment." The girls knelt silently, for a minute, five, perhaps ten? Who could tell? Finally, the door opened, and there stood a tall man. He was easily an inch or two above six foot, and broad through the shoulders. He had a bit of a beer-belly, a high forehead covered in grey-streaked hair, but despite being close to sixty, he still radiated an aura that made bitty very afraid. He looked down at them both. "tiny, show our guest how to enter the house," he ordered. "Yes, Master," she replied. She bowed her head completely, pressing it to the porch. She said, "Master, slave tiny humbly begs Your permission to enter Your house. She begs to be allowed to please You and Your guests, and ask that You punish her if she does not, or simply because it pleases You to punish her. She further begs that any punishments You see fit to bestow on her, for any reason, are extremely painful and protracted, that this slave might provide the greatest possible entertainment for You or Your guests." With that, she lifted Master Anderson's foot, and placed it on her neck, in the classic gesture of submission. He looked down at her, and answered, "Very well, slut, you may enter." Hearing that, tiny crawled in on her hands and knees, and as soon as she was inside, crawled over to a mat to the side, and knelt there, waiting. bitty wasn't sure if she should speak, or wait for the Master's permission. He solved that for her, saying, "And you, slut?" bitty tried her best to remember. She pressed her forehead against the floor, as tiny had done. She said, "Um, Master, slave bitty requests Your permission to enter Your house. She asks, sorry, begs, to be allowed to please You and Your guests, and asks that You punish her if she is not pleasing, or because You wish to. Please make her punishments very long and hard, for Your pleasure." She hesitated, then remembered to lift his foot on to her neck. "Not too bad, slut," he observed, "but next time it had better be word-for-word perfect, or you will be punished beyond your worst nightmares. Do you understand?" "Yes, Master," she answered. "Very well, you may enter." She started to rise, and he immediately stomped a foot into the small of her back, flattening her against the ground. "Slaves do not walk in this house. They crawl like the animals they are. You will be punished for this, in addition to the session already planned for you. Your punishment will be to have a box of two dozen foot-long and razor-sharp skewers pushed through each breast. You have the sort of breasts that were made for a good skewering. Poor tiny has a hard time accepting more than a dozen per breast. You, on the other hand, could probably take three, or even four dozen per breast. One of these days we'll find out." With that, he lifted his foot from her back. Chastened, she crawled in, and taking her cue from tiny, knelt on the mat inside. "Now then, bitty-slut, let me tell you why you are here. Your Master knows of your desire to experience pain, and knows that He is not the type of sadist who can inflict it on you. He and I have been chatting for several weeks, now, about your needs. He has agreed to give you to Me for the night. I know that it is end of term for you, and that you are off work for the next two weeks. The only limitation He has given Me beyond your existing limitations is that you must be able to go to work in two weeks. If you are bed-ridden from the pain right up until that Monday, that is okay with Him, and something I am hoping for. In a minute, I am going to take you up to the torture chamber. Your Master will be in the bedroom next door, being entertained by My slaves. While He will not be able to see you, the walls are thin enough that He will be able to hear your screams, cries, and moans." "As for you, my little slut," he addressed tiny, "you were not given permission to chatter away. Only permission to inform bitty of the rules. For your punishment, since I will be too busy to deal with it now as you so richly deserve, you are to go up to the bedroom, have juggy stuff your stockings in your mouth, then gag you with an inflatable ball gag, inflated as much as possible. She is then to give you a four quart punishment enema, and strap in a butt-plug to help you hold it until I am ready for you. She will then unkennel suckslut, and kennel you instead in the torture chamber. juggy and suckslut will entertain Master Mannik, while you will entertain Me with your screams. Also, tell juggy that she is permitted to answer Master Mannik's questions, as is suckslut, though neither is permitted to speak without being asked a question. Is that understood?" "Yes, Master." "Then get out of my sight, you worthless slut!" "Yes, Master." tiny crawled hurriedly up the stairs. At the top, she turned right, and crawled into the bedroom, pushing the door shut behind her. She saw Master Mannik sitting on the large and comfortable wingback chair that her Master called "The Throne." She saw Julia, better known as slave juggy, kneeling between the Master's feet, greedily sucking his cock. juggy was well named. The teenager had large, though still youthfully tight and perky, breasts. Her curly red hair hung down to her ass, or at least, it would have had not Master Mannik wrapped it around his fist, to control her cock-sucking. juggy was Master Anderson's daughter/slave, born to him by a (now former) slave of his some eighteen or so years ago. tiny crawled into the room and over to The Throne, where she flattened herself against the ground, lifted Master Mannik's right foot on to the back of her neck, and said, "Master, this worthless slut most humbly begs Your pardon, but she has been given orders by Master Anderson, and she must speak in order to carry them out. May she?" "What? Sure, speak up." "Thank You, Master. Master, this slut has disobeyed her Master's standing orders. She must be punished by slave juggy, and will not be entertaining You this evening as originally planned. However, taking her place will be slave suckslut, who will pleasure You quite well." tiny then proceeded to relay Master Anderson's instructions to juggy. juggy and tiny immediately crawled off to the torture chamber, and soon slave suckslut crawled in to the room. slave suckslut was a Eurasian girl, probably in her early twenties. She had tit-length black hair, with brown highlights hinting at her Western father. Speaking of tits, hers weren't much to speak of, being at best an A-cup. If she were allowed to stand, she would probably be five-three or five-four, not as tall as her younger half-sister-slave juggy, but taller than her stepmother-slave tiny. She was extensively pierced, with rings through her nipples, ears, nose, septum, eyebrows, cheeks, labia, clit, and (as Alan was to learn later) multiples through her tongue. "Are you ... suckslut?" Alan asked. "Yes, Master, this slave is called suckslut." "Why? And where did the others go? When will juggy be back?" "Master, this slave was given the human name of Suki, but her Master calls her suckslut because she is good at sucking. She is an expert at cock-sucking, cunt-licking, and ass-licking. She has been trained to suck Your toes, and to give You a head-to-foot tongue bath. As to the others, juggy had to take tiny to the torture chamber for punishment. tiny will be receiving a punishment enema, which she will then be required to hold until the Master is done torturing Your slut. And since He was originally going to torture suckslut when he finished off bitty, this slave knows that He plans to spend several hours bringing bitty to levels of agony she could never conceive of, one hour ago. After juggy gets tiny prepped, she will be back." "Okay. So what is a punishment enema? And what does your Master have planned for my slave?" "Well, a punishment enema is simply a four-quart enema, generally either boiling hot or freezing cold, and usually laced with capsaicin or some other irritant. tiny will be made to hold this enema for hours. suckslut has had them. The cramps get to be excruciating after a very short time, and by the time the Master was ready to allow suckslut to expel the enema, she would promise her Master to do literally anything at all, in order to be given permission to release it." "Anything?" "Oh yes, Master. For example, this slut was once given a punishment enema, and before the Master would allow her to release it, she had to beg to get her tubes tied without any anaesthesia. Master had decided that suckslut should not be allowed to have children, you see, but wanted even the loss of that ability to hurt. So suckslut was made to beg the Master to cut her open and tie her tubes. He didn't remove her ovaries, because He still wanted her to undergo the monthly pain of her period, without the risk of breeding." "Wow! So what about bitty? What's He going to do to her?" "The Master would never tell this slut what He has planned, but based on previous torture sessions this slut has experienced, slut bitty will probably have her ass caned, for a very long time. English school children often received a caning of six to a dozen strokes, with twenty-four considered quite severe. In the torture chamber, one hundred and twenty four is considered merely warm-up, and suckslut on more than one occasion has received a caning of one thousand strokes or more. she will probably be made to ride the wooden pony, likely after a very thorough bull-whipping, including tits, ass, and cunt. The Master may cut off some of her skin, and almost certainly will stick needles and skewers in her. she may receive enemas, or be given electric shocks. she may have her tits, ass, or cunt injected with bee venom or just a saline solution. In short, she will suffer the agonies of the damned. she may lose her voice from screaming, and will definitely pass out, repeatedly, from the pain. The Master says that some of His past sluts, like this slut's mother, slut tightcunt, said that the pain of childbirth is as nothing compared to a night in the torture chamber. This slut has never been pregnant, obviously, but she knows that no other Master or Mistress exceeds her Master in cruelty." At this point, slave juggy returned. The redhead crawled over to join suckslut in kneeling at Alan's feet. He looked down at them both. He asked, "What can I do with you, and to you, or order you to do to yourselves or each other?" "Anything at all, Master," both replied. "Anything?" "Oh, yes, Master, though the Master does ask that if You decide to do anything really extreme to these slaves, You let Him know in advance, so that He can watch." "Really extreme? Like what?" "You know, cut off their tits, brand them with a hot branding iron, break their bones, stuff like that." "No, thank you! Not my thing. How about things like making you give me a full-body massage, or a head-to-toe tongue bath? How about making you fuck each other? Or fist each other? Spank each other?" "Those things all sound great, Master," juggy answered. "Umm-hmm," suckslut agreed. "What would You like first?" "I want the two of you to give me a full-body massage. Relax me and arouse me at the same time." "Yes, Master," they answered. "Will You move over to the bed, and lay face down?" He did so, and they began to give him an extremely sensual massage. suckslut started by massaging his feet, while juggy began massaging his scalp. As he began to relax, he was startled by a sharp *crack* and a cry from next door. "What was that?" he asked. "It sounded like bitty is experiencing a caning," suckslut answered. The sounds continued. Alan found his dick getting hard, listening to his wife's suffering, knowing that it would terrible and protracted. He had no desire to inflict such cruelty himself, but it pleased him to hear her receiving it. And so it went, for an hour, two, three. The sounds of the caning. Of a bull-whipping. The creaking chains that suggested the wooden pony. And throughout it all, cries and screams from bitty. Wild and crazy sex with juggy and suckslut. Alan came three times, the third as he heard bitty cry out, "Dear God, no more! I can't ..." and the rest of the sentence was lost in loud and prolonged screaming. Finally, there was a knock at the door. "Enter," Alan called out. Master Anderson looked in. "Why don't You stay the night? bitty is exhausted, and I have kenneled her for now. juggy and suckslut will keep You company. I have a nice guest bedroom downstairs." "You sure it's no problem?" "Not at all. Your bitty is a real prize, and I enjoyed giving her the only gift that matters", he smiled evilly, "that being the gift of pain, and receiving the only tribute that matters, that being screams of inhuman suffering and agony. Why don't We all rest, and You can head home tomorrow morning?" "Well, in that case, thanks. Thanks much." "Great. sluts, take Master Mannik downstairs to the guest bedroom, and keep Him company. I have to deal with slave tiny." And so Alan and the two slaves went downstairs to the guest room. As he snuggled in to the bed, surrounded on both sides by beautiful naked women, he felt like the happiest man alive. *** He woke up the next morning from feeling a mouth on his cock. He looked down, and saw the blonde ponytail of slave tiny. "Where are juggy and suckslut?" he asked. "They went to get breakfast ready," tiny answered, in quick staccato bursts, hardly losing rhythm in sucking his cock. Finally, in a long, shuddering burst, he came. "The Master asks that you join Him at breakfast," she said. tiny lead him to the dining room. The small table was set for two. Anderson was already seated at the table. "Good morning," he said. "Sleep well?" "Terrific, thanks. Your slaves are quite good." "Thank you. They should be, since juggy and suckslut have been slaves their entire lives." "Really?" "Oh yes. suckslut was born to a slave of mine about twenty-two or twenty-three years ago, and You already know about juggy. They have never known any life but slavery." "You are a lucky man." "Funny you should say that, as I was thinking the same about You. I have a proposition for You: I'd like to trade You suckslut and juggy for bitty. I know, You're thinking, why would He give two for one, but the answer is simple. One, bitty is truly exquisite, and I would give a great deal to own her. Two, juggy and suckslut are My daughters, and although they are and always will be slaves, I just can't be as cruel to them as I would like. What do You say?" "Let me ask bitty what she thinks." "Why? Do You ask Your car for its permission before trading it in? Do You ask Your house if it's okay to move out? She is Your property, it is entirely your decision to make. But I tell You what, if You are a little uncertain, then I will make You a deal. The next time We get together You can swap 'em back, if You choose to do so." "Well, how do I explain her absence in the interim?" "I'll have her send You a 'Dear John' letter, saying she has met another man, and wants to see where it will lead. If You later swap her back, You look like a great guy for taking her back after she 'dumped' You. Is it a deal?" "What the hell, yes, it's a deal." "Great. Give me Your keys, and tiny will go get the girls loaded in Your car and ready to travel." Alan did so. "Meanwhile," Master Anderson continued, "here are their papers." He handed Alan a large manila envelope. "Their papers?" "Yes. You know, birth certificates, deeds of enslavement, certificates of training, and so on. Also, there is a slave registry web site where you can access their records, or the records of any other registered slave whose records have not been marked 'Private' by her Master. There is information inside on how to set up an account, and how to transfer registration of suckslut and juggy from Me to You. Also, there are photo albums and video clips not only for these two, but for many other slaves as well. As a member of the registry, with two registered slaves, You are free to download any of that that you wish. Enjoy!" Alan went out to his car in a daze. Two slaves! Wow! He knew he would miss bitty, but he figured he would probably want bitty back in a few weeks, and besides, she had said that she wanted to be property, so who was she to complain. As he approached the car, it appeared empty. He opened the driver's side door (thoughtfully left unlocked by tiny), and leaned in. He saw juggy and suckslut, naked and kneeling on the floorboards of the back seat. Both were facing the back of the car, with their hands cuffed behind them, and matching blindfolds, collars and ball-gags on them. He noticed an envelope on the front seat with a label, "Keys to the sluts' bondage gear." He opened it, and found handcuff keys and padlock keys. Padlock keys? He looked more closely and saw that both the collars and the ball-gags were locked on. There was also a note, that read, "Don't worry about returning the blindfolds, gags, collars and cuffs. Enjoy!" Alan got home, grateful for his enclosed garage. It was going to be hard enough explaining where bitty went, without having to explain two naked, gagged, collared, blindfolded and cuffed girls being led into his house as well. As the garage door closed, he decided to remove their cuffs, gags, and blindfolds. The collars would stay, for now. "Come on, girls, let's go in the house." Both girls crawled out of the car and across the garage. They knelt at the back door, waiting for Alan to admit them. Alan wondered why they hadn't yet followed him in, then remembered Master Anderson's little ritual at the door. He let them go through it, but vowed to himself that he would get them to "lighten up" some. He decided to go through their papers, and get them "registered" to him. After creating a user account, he entered the codes for suckslut and juggy, and sure enough, they were now listed as owned by him. Their names were hyperlinks, and he guessed that clicking on them would lead to their files. He was right. He pulled up suckslut's record first. Name: suckslut. Born: 16 Nov, 1981. Human name: Suki. Height: 5'3". Weight: 101#. Measurements: 33A-21-34. Father: Master Anderson. Dam: tightcunt. Video page. Photo sets. Training certifications. He clicked on the video page link. There were a number of videos listed, such as: suckslut's first blow-job, suckslut's first ass fucking, suckslut's 16th birthday, suckslut's first DVDA fisting, suckslut's first 24 hour torture party, and so on. He noticed that all the videos had a running time listed, and the shortest was over an hour, so he decided to come back to them later. He went back to suckslut's main record page, and noticed that tightcunt was a link. Curious to find out more about her mother, he clicked it. Up came another record page. Name: tightcunt. Born: 12 April, 1957. Human name: Tamiko. Height: 5'. Weight: 90#. Measurements: 33A-18-33. Father: Unknown. Dam: Unknown. Pups: suckslut. Terminated: 21 Nov, 1981. Video page. Photo sets. Training certifications. ...Terminated? He did a double take, and clicked the link. He got another record page. Name: tightcunt. Terminated: 21 Nov, 1981. Terminated by: Master Anderson. Termination reason: Gave birth to a girl. Termination session length: 11 hours, 47 minutes. Disposal method: Cremation. Download termination video. What the...? He clicked on Master Anderson's name. He noticed that he had owned many slaves over the years. Some had been sold or traded, but at least once each year, a slave was listed as terminated. What kind of maniac had he traded bitty to? "Come on," he said to the girls, "get in the car. We're going back to Master Anderson's. I am trading you two back for bitty." He decided he didn't have time to fasten them all up again, and simply ordered them to lay flat on the back seat. He then covered them with a blanket. He spun the wheels backing out of the garage, and drove like a man pursued by the devil back to Master Anderson's place. When he got there, it had a vaguely deserted look about it, and he saw a white rectangle on the front door as he walked up. When he got close, he recognised his name, written in bitty's handwriting, on an envelope. With a sinking heart he opened it. Inside was a simple note: Master Alan, Master knew You would be back, and ordered this slut to leave You a note. Master Anderson, slut tiny, and slut bitty have moved. You will likely not see any of them face-to-face again in life. Know that this slut always has and always will love You. But she needs what Master can offer, and has accepted the fact that her life will end in His service. Enjoy the slut's You received in return. Forget about this slut, and get on with Your life. slave bitty He was stunned, speechless, even flabbergasted. Why had he been such a fool? He knew he couldn't go to the cops. "Yes, officer, I traded my wife of seven years to a man I had only known for about a month, who promised to torture her, hard and long, in exchange for his two daughters." That would never fly. He'd be lucky if he ever saw sunlight as a free man again. So he did the only thing he could do. He went home. A few days later an official "Dear John" letter arrived in the mail. In it, bitty claimed she had met another man who was more interesting than he was, and just had to see where it would go, and that she was leaving him forever. He showed the letter to all and sundry as his explanation for where Betty had gone, and spent a few months training Julia and Suki to act like free women in public, so that he could take them to dinner, or to a movie. Most folks bought his story that he had decided to become more interesting, and felt that he deserved two such young and beautiful "girlfriends" after being dumped by that bitch, Betty. Soon, he found he didn't even think about Betty any more, or wonder if she was alive or dead. In short, life went on.

My other site: thefellatee.wordpress.com Chapter 0: Introductions Farmwork was always hard, and never harder than at this place. Every day for a week, by evening I was sweating like a horse, hungry, and horny. The woman who employed me here, Mrs. Goodhead, was a widow who lived alone with her eighteen year old daughter. The husband had passed away a couple years ago, but they still hired staff to run the place. I fixed things, and when there was nothing to fix, I did farmwork. Every night the woman made me a good meal, and I ate with her, and her young daughter. This girl was incredibly beautiful, very hard not to look at for a red blooded man like me. Her figure was incredible, and she showed it a little more. A couple times her mother made her go back and change when she showed up looking too sexy, in tiny little tight shorts and tight little tops, showing her cleavage. I quickly realised that she was purposely trying to turn me on, with occasional glances at her eager face, those eyes sparkling with lust, her body language telling me she was ready to be fucked at any moment. I tried to ignore it because of my situation, worried that I would be kicked out for even acknowledging her beauty. If only I had known. Her hair was wavy and long, over delicate ladylike shoulders. She was very pretty, her eye contact making me nervous and hard a the same time. The body she had was fantastic, and through her summer dresses and tight jeans, I saw her perfect ass, round and begging to be squeezed. Her whole figure was dizzying, with elegant legs and hands, a delicate little chin and neck, juicy lips that she glossed every day for some reason, and the softest looking cleavage I could remember seeing. By the end of the week, I wasn't sure if Mrs. Goodhead could detect my crush, but I was sure that Ms. Goodhead did. Chapter 1: First Secret Rendevous I'd seen Candi Goodhead walking around, and she was very beautiful, though a bit too young for me. She flirted with a knowing gaze, walking sexy when I looked at her, looking over her shoulder with a nervous smile. The day that her mother had sent her from the table to change, she had spent most of the day in that outfit, and the glimpses I caught of her drove me wild. I wanted to stroke off, having this girl turn me on all the time, then sleeping in the next room from her! It wasn't easy, but I stopped myself, knowing the thin walls would give me away, and that I couldn't risk it bathing in the cast iron tub. One night after dinner, as I went to my room on the second floor, I looked down to see her smiling gaze looking up at me. She swayed slightly, her eyes seductive. She looked around, then back up, and started pulling down the straps of her dress. I watched with surprise as she kept going, looking around once more before revealing her tender breasts. They were very soft, so young, but supple and round. She squeezed her breasts together for a moment, and licked her lips, obviously trying to turn me on. I hesitated, and she pulled her dress back up, looking around, then climbing the stairs. I went into my room, knowing she was coming, but hoping she wouldn't. When she entered, and closed the door behind her, I knew that I wasn't going to kick her out. She spun, showing me her body for a moment, before hooking her thumbs in the straps, and pulling her dress down again. I shook my head slowly, smiling, amazed that such an innocent girl could be so sexy. "Do you want to see more," she said quietly, almost whispering. "Should I strip?" My nod and dropped jaw were enough response as she peeled her dress down, letting it fall past her hips. She was incredibly sexy, wearing high heels and tiny red panties, posing like a pinup, hands brushing back her hair once in a while. I motioned her over, and she stepped up to me, letting my hands nervously touch her, exploring her young, soft body. She gasped, moaned, and started to grind a little in the air. She was very easy, letting me touch her everywhere, even her little slit, and when I pushed her down to the floor, she got on her knees between my legs with no resistance. I felt her soft, beautiful face, kissing her, making out as I enjoyed her. She kissed back passionately, letting me touch her, more sexual than I'd ever imagined she could be. When I stood up she moaned slightly, looking up at me, staying on her knees. I caressed her young face as I unzipped, dropping my pants to my feet. I asked if she'd ever done this before. "No," she said softly, her voice young and girlish. "But I've watched it on the internet. And I've heard that men find it really relaxing, and satisfying." I nodded, pulling off my underwear, seeing her reaction to my cock, close to her face. "Mmm, it's so big," she said, touching it with delicate young fingers. "I'll have to work hard to satisfy you." She giggled, kissing my tip, hearing my moan out. "Oooh, you're wet already. I guess you're pretty horny." I told her that I hadn't stroked off for two weeks, never having the opportunity, so I had a really big load of cum inside me, and it would come out pretty fast. "Mmm, can I suck it out, please? I promise to swallow all your cum, and when you're done, I'll do it again." I told her not to swallow until she was told, to keep the cum in her mouth. "Okay," she said softly, running a hand down my leg, kissing my tip again. "Whatever you want. I've never given head before, but I'll do whatever it takes to satisfy you." Her lips started kissing again, and I held my base, watching her young mouth tease me with wet kisses and soft licks. "I would love to learn from you, how to give a perfect blowjob. Will you teach me?" I breathed heavily, caressing her face, and agreed. "Oh, thank you," she said excitedly. "I promise I'll do everything you say, so you can cum really good. I'll be a good girl." I patted her face roughly, and she smiled up, licking my cockhead enthusiastically, breathing her young breath on me. I told her to use only her mouth, and she did, putting her hands down on her knees an slurping my tip, looking up at me. I held my base and moved myself around her lips, slowly working my way in. Eventually her lips slipped down past my tip, twisting around and around. She softly bobbed her mouth up and down, letting her young lips and tongue slide slowly up and down my length. I sighed and moaned slightly, and it excited her making her mouth close tighter, sucking a little harder. Her passion grew, and as she looked up, she started bobbing her mouth quicker with longer strokes. Again I moaned, throwing my head back for a moment, then looking down again. She smiled and giggled with my tip on her lips, then opened them again, and slowly mouthed me. I thrust forward slightly, and she responded immediately, bobbing more, her teen head moving up and down softly. I told her to twist her lips around me a little while she went, and she did it right away, over and over. Groaning, mouth opening and closing in pleasure, I watched her go, repeating the motions a few times, then switching directions, experimenting with her first blowjob. I moaned and put a hand on her head, and she moaned too, soothing my cock. She started sucking deeper, almost into her throat, letting me lead her with gentle pushes on the top of her head. The more I moaned, the more she seemed to enjoy it, twisting and grinding on her knees, breathing excitedly through her nose. I ran my hands through her hair, feeling her young head move as she pleased me. She kept looking up once in a while, hoping that her first time was doing the trick, and every time she saw that it was, she got a little more confidence and sucked a little harder. After a while, what felt like twenty minutes, she was sucking me emphatically, only slowing down when I pulled out. She licked whenever I asked her to, and she licked everywhere she was told. Her tongue ran all over my balls and my cock, and her lips did too, and she caressed me with her oral delights. She didn't even realise, but it was probably the best head I'd ever had. I leaned against the bed, watching her go, those soft delicate hands on my thighs, her soft long hair brushing my thighs. I could tell that she was too young for me, but she was already so sexy, so pretty, wearing makeup and high heels, with panties that most girls her age weren't allowed to have. I found myself wondering what she would look like in a few years, and whether I would still know her. But my mind was pulled quickly back to her efforts, as she gave it her best, on her knees for me, her first man. She was still a virgin, but her mouth was learning very fast how to make a man cum. It was natural to her, easy, and she just kept going and going. I pulled out a few times and rubbed my cock across her young face, seeing her smile up at me, knowing she was very beautiful for her age. She bounced her tits a little with her hands underneath. I told her to keep holding her tits up for me, and she did, while I fucked her mouth a little harder. My hand on her head felt no resistance, this hot little teenie just let me fuck her mouth, looking up once in a while. I could feel her sucking hard, following my lead, meeting my strokes as she kept fellating despite how rough it was getting. I tried to push into her throat, and she didn't resist, at all. I could tell it was making her gag, but she didn't pull back, she just tried to swallow my length, tried to deep throat me. It didn't quite work, but seeing such a beautiful, pretty, sexy, young girl let me fuck her throat like that while she held her plump tits up for me, was too much. I kept going, seeing a tear or two roll down her cheeks, until I started to cum. I pulled back, feeling her young soft mouth close around my shaft, twisting and bobbing up and down firmly, but smoothly as I bucked. My first two spurts shot hard into her mouth, and suddenly her mouth was full, a little bit of cum dribbling on her chin. She looked surprised, but soon winced as I pulled out; a huge white rope of liquid man shot up her face, from her lips to her forehead, and into her hair. She blinked and looked up, her mouth open in shock and lust as I shot again, trailing from her forehead once again, down her nose, across her upper lip, onto her tongue. She tried to hold her eyes open as I shot, but soon one of my spurts went across her pretty eyelashes, gluing them shut for a moment. I stroked hard, breathing heavily, trying not to moan loudly as I shot again, her young pretty face taking each splash eagerly. She moaned, and left the cum in her open mouth, smiling up as she teased me with one eye tentatively open. A few more thick hot spurts into her mouth, and my orgasm was ending. She looked up eagerly, tongue out, holding her young naked breasts up a little. I told her that she looked incredible, and she smiled brightly, thanking me through the mouthful. When I told her to swallow she made a big show of it, gulping it down, showing me it was all gone, fluttering her eyelashes. "Was that a good blowjob?" She knew it was. I took hold of her head, laughing softly for a moment before pulling her eager cummy mouth back on to my cock. She sucked softly, eagerly, keeping me as hard as she could. She followed my lead, and quickly was bobbing her head in my crotch again. I told her that she was going to blow me again, and she just moaned softly, letting me fuck her mouth while she stayed there on her knees, wearing just heels and panties for her very first blowjob, though I came twice. When I finally pulled back, after watching her swallow again, I sat down roughly in my chair with a sigh. Standing up, she stepped over to me in her sexy heels, face plastered from the top of her head down to her chin, dripping a little down her neck, looking like she was ready to do it again. "Was that nice and relaxing?" I nodded. "Good," she said with a naughty, cummy grin. "I could tell you really needed to get off. I'm still a virgin, but I know what men like." She did a little twirl, showing off her young body, and grabbed her dress. "It'll be our secret," she said quietly in her girlish, seductive voice. "I can do this every night." I shook my head, smiling in amazement, and told her I couldn't wait. She giggled, bit her lip, threw on the dress, and stepped out the door to her room. I looked out nervously, hoping nobody had heard us. She winked over her shoulder as she walked away, her pretty eyelashes sticking together for a moment, a strand of gooey white stretching when they opened again. I watched her step around the corner, my head dizzy and my body tired. It was time for bed, but I already felt like I was in a dream. ... Chapter 2: Second Last Night For the next week, every night after dinner she would come visit me. We kissed and fondled each other, and at the end of it, she would always slip down to her knees for a little fellatio. Quickly she learned how to please me, and after a few days her skills were already getting fairly good, draining me of cum every time. On my second last night at the farm she visited me again, a little knock on my door after my evening shower, while I read. I let her in, seeing that she wore a bath robe with tall, sexy heels on her feet, a contrast that made me instantly hard. Her hair was in a nice feminine ponytail, keeping it out of the way for when she was sucking cock. "Tonight I put on something special," she whispered, looking around and closing the door. "Go ahead, sit down and watch! You can stroke it if you want, but..." She looked down at my crotch, put a finger on her lip and moaned, rubbing her thigh with her other hand, moving her hips slightly. She looked really turned on, and very eager to impress on top of it. "...just be careful, cause I've been practicing my stripping moves," she continued as she opened the robe, revealing her tight stringed bikini, tying behind her neck and on her hips. "And I know after this, you're gonna want to cum in my mouth." She licked her glossy lips, and started moving, teasing me with her body, coming closer, running her hands up and down her legs while she bent over, moving her ass back and forth on her heels, bouncing her young titties a little bit. I reached out and touched her while she danced, feeling how nubile and soft she was. She moved her body while I touched her, running hands through her hair once or twice, shaking her ass for me, even when I was squeezing her breasts. She undid the string behind her neck, dropping her top to hang below her beautiful rack. Immediately I wanted to fuck her rack, and I told her so. "Sure," she said with her head to the side slightly, smiling. "Whatever you want! That sounds really fun." She gave me quite a show, teasing me with her body, little dances that made me want to pin her down and fuck her virgin brains out. I undid the back of her top, letting it fall. She then turned around, pushing her ass out as I felt it. She spread her legs slightly, tall heels clicking softly on the floor, as my hand slid around, feeling her, softly caressing her young pussy. She started breathing heavier, moaning as I pressed harder, feeling how soft she was. I could tell she was getting really hot, that I could make her cum in a second if I tried. "Should I... pull my panties down?" She looked over her shoulder and bit her lip slightly, not wanting to mess up her lip gloss too much. I let out my breath with a moan, and undid her panties, letting them drop to the floor, peeling down from her wet pussy and ass. I teased her a little, feeling around her pussy, then went in to play with her pussy, caressing her little virgin clit as she moaned, trying to tease me with her ass while I did it. I could tell the pleasure was hitting her hard, as she kept tensing up, moaning louder, getting wetter. After a few more seconds I started stroking more firmly over her wet little button, and she exploded, shaking, her knees bending as she sank uncontrollably down. I caught her with my other arm around her waist and kept going, making her orgasm grow by the moment. She moaned loudly, shaking more and more, then convulsing a little before collapsing onto the floor in front of me, hands on my knees, panting and rolling her eyes in pleasure. "That was incredible," she said out loud between breaths. "Good thing nobody's home right now." I smiled, caressing her pretty teen face, and kissed her. She kissed back passionately, and after a minute or two, I told her to blow me, in a quiet, seductive voice. "Okay." She moved her head down and started licking me, already very hard from stroking this whole time. "Mmmm, you've got to fuck me soon, before you go. I want you to be my first." I groaned, and she giggled, slurping my tip. The idea of taking this girl's virginity was heady, and for a moment or two I couldn't respond, just watched her look up and lick me innocently. A moment later I told her that I would, and she moaned, sucking twice as hard. Standing up, I took her head in my hand, and she kept going, her round breasts bouncing along with her ponytail as she sucked hard and deep, trying to impress me. I moaned and pulled her in harder, finding her eager. She tried to suck me all the way down, and at first it didn't work, but she kept trying over and over, making sure it felt really good as she twisted and bobbed her lips. A few minutes later she managed to take my whole length down, her big eyes watering, her throat slippery and tight. I fucked her mouth for a moment or two, making her gag harder, enjoying the fact that she didn't resist at all. When I pulled out, she coughed for a second, and looked up with a surprised expression. "Wow," she said cutely. "I can't believe I got the whole thing! Mmm, you can fuck my throat. Don't worry, I know I'm young, but I can take it." Shock and sexual awe filled me as I looked down at this young beauty, more intensely sexual and servile than I'd ever imagined. She caught my tip on her tongue, massaging my tip with it, between her lips. She moaned, looking up as I pressed her head down a little at a time, fucking her mouth. She welcomed it, putting her hands on her knees and letting me have my way. Every time I looked down, I couldn't help but moan, seeing her pretty teenage face looking up, those soft breasts jiggling. Reaching down, my hands cupped her young titties, feeling her moan and suck passionately as I squeezed them. She sucked deeper, closing her eyes, trying to deep throat me again. My hand on the back of her head helped, but it was hard to get all the way in. I didn't want to push her, but she kept going at it, and I didn't stop her. After a while I closed my eyes and just felt her innocently slipping me into her throat over and over again. I moaned, and she pushed herself more, making herself gag. After a minute or two I pulled back, letting her lick me up and down, all over, before I started slapping my cock in her face. She winced with each wet smack, but didn't turn away, even when I gave her one last, extra hard cockslap. I felt a little bit of splashback against my leg as I did it. She just looked up innocently, and sucked my tip hard, twisting her lips around on it. I groaned and pulled her head back by the hair. "You know," she said softly, looking up with a wet smile, catching her breath. "There aren't any other boys here. That makes you the man of the house." I smiled, moaning with an eye half shut, and slipped myself into her mouth for a couple more sucks, then pulled back. "I always knew men were in charge, but I didn't realise it would make me so horny, until we met you. I'm gonna do a really thorough job down here, and make sure all your cum is drained. I'll keep sucking until nothing comes out, five or six orgasms in. But I won't stop unless I'm told." A little kiss on my tip. "Promise." Her mouth went down, and she sucked hard as ever, with long, firm strokes, her lips nice and wet, gliding up and down. She moaned louder too, her whole mouth vibrating slightly with feminine passion as her hair waved against her back, in her elegant ponytail. I stood up, taking her head in both hands, and fucked her mouth for a long while, trying to hold back but knowing it wouldn't be much longer until I had my first big orgasm. I pulled back for a moment, catching my breath. "I'm really gonna miss you," she said softly, rubbing her pretty face against my cock affectionately. "If only I could move in with you, I would keep doing this for you every night." I let out a stifled moan as her tongue swirled around my tip and her mouth slipped down, deep, sucking hard as she then bobbed her head as deeply as possible. She didn't suck that hard at first, just sliding her wet mouth up and down. I started to moan louder, and she sucked harder, and we went back and forth into a frenzy. She put her hands on her knees and let me put my hands on her head. I helped, fucking her face slightly harder than she could suck. She let me go wild fucking her pretty face, and didn't resist at all. When it was time for me to cum, I slowed down, and she compensated with big, quick slurps. This time I let her keep going when I came. She sucked as I spurted into her mouth, and she carried me through my orgasm, never slowing down for a moment. She moaned, as more and more of my load shot out, looking up at me with lusty, young eyes. When I pulled back, a little cum dribbled onto her nose and lips. She opened her mouth in a sexy smile, looking up, letting me squeeze the last couple drops into the huge load rolling around inside, looking up with watery deepthroating eyes. She showed it to me with the sluttiest, most playful, half innocent look imaginable, her cute young teenage face captured on the camera I'd set on the bed. "I love yow cum," she said with her mouth full, showing it off to me. "Cang I swawow it, pweeease?" I patted her face and nodded, watching her flirtatious gaze as she gulped it down, showing her tongue after. "Mmm, thank you," she said cutely, bouncing her tits for me while I stroked in her face. "That was really yummy. I'll do anything, whatever you want, just please feed me some more?" She fluttered her eyelashes, looking up innocently, kissing, teasing with her mouth, and it made me hard again as I cock slapped her lips, and her cheeks a little. "It's your second last night here. I wanna spend the rest of the night making you cum, over and over. Please, please, can I give you another blowjob? I don't care how long it takes. And I'll do it again after that." She slipped her little teenage mouth over my cock, and sucked slowly, as I sat down. I told her to call me sir from now on, whenever we were alone. "Okay, sir," she said quietly in her young little voice, her pretty gaze showing me that she was very into it. "Whatever gets you off. After all..." I moaned, relaxing as she continued, my hands on her bobbing, young head. She pulled back a moment, looking at me with cum still on her nose from my first load. "...men are supposed to be in charge." I gave her a slightly shocked smile, and she just looked at me as seductively as she could, held her boobs up, and kept sucking. ... Chapter 3: The Last Night That night at dinner, her mother dropped a bomb. "My daughter seems to like you very much," she said with a knowing look. "She has visited you many times since you've arrived." I blushed, looking at Candi for a moment, who blushed too, looking a little sheepish. "No, I haven't..." Candi started, but was cut off. "Don't worry," her mother said with a reassuring tone. "I'm not angry. I can't blame either of you for it. No man can resist the women in my family; we are all just too beautiful, and too womanly. But there's more to us than meets the eye..." I looked at her quizzically, and back at Candi for a moment. "We are not your average, naggy, plain women. When my husband was still alive, I made sure his sex was more satisfying than he'd had with any other woman, and it was easy. We make other women look like complete prudes. And we take care of our men; we sew, we cook, we clean, and we look good in just about anything, especially nothing. Any man would be mad to turn her down." Her words, and both of their expressions, gave me a raging, brutal erection, at full size and insistance, my heart thumping loudly. "Candi's been growing up out here with no boys around, but she's really turning into a woman fast. It's a shame that she's entering into her sexual prime, finding out about her womanhood, without a man to show her what to do. She needs discipline, and I think you're the man for the job. I would love it if you would marry my daughter, take her off to be safe and happy." I gulped, looking at her, then Candi, who gulped a little nervously, but smiled at me hopefully. "She's a little young to be a wife," Mrs. Goodhead continued. "I mean, she's had so little schooling! Now that she's eighteen, I hope she marries a smart, dominant man, who can take care of her." I looked again at Candi, my head swimming. "It's true," she said with a little sigh. "I'm not the smartest. But I can cook and clean like nobody's business, and whatever else you might need from a wife, I'll do it. With a smile." Her hand went into my lap, and I nearly jumped out of my seat, looking at Mrs. Goodhead, who just grinned. "Tonight, I'll leave you two alone. I'm going on a date, so you can make as much noise as you want. I know you're a good man, so I give you full permission to do whatever you want with her. Just make sure you tell her how to really satisfy you. Goodhead women are... well, very agreeable. We don't say no to our men, especially in bed, because we're real women. Not stupid feminists." Candi nodded, and Mrs. Goodhead got up to leave, her daughter's hand firmly grasping my hard cock through my pants at the table. "Candi," she added as she closed the door, walking out. "Just remember what I've told you. Show him you're wife material. Show him you know your womens' work." The door slipped closed, and her hand squeezed me, her expression very excited. I asked what kind of womens' work was meant. "Hmm, well," she said seductively, leaning closer. "I think she meant... cock worshipping. She always says, a good girlfriend sucks cock, but a good wife worships it." I shivered, thinking about being with this little teenie bopper tonight. She looked at me seductively and stood up, walking to the stairs. "I'll go get myself ready, put on something sexy for you." Her little ass swayed slightly as she walked up the stairs in her thin summer dress, and I watched her, telling her that I would shower, and wait for her in my room, barely able to believe what was happening. "Okay, sir," she said cutely, flipping her hair back with renewed confidence. "I'll try not to take too long." I washed, getting myself nice and clean for her, and waited in my room wearing a robe. She opened the door wide, putting a hand on the doorframe, posing for me with a naughty look on her face. I smiled with my jaw a little low as I gazed over her figure, clad in thin lacy panties and a matching bikini top, that had a sheer veil hanging down around her waist. She wore thinly strapped, clear and white heels, with her hair tied back elegantly. "How do I look?" She spun, teasing me for a minute with her body, moving her hands over her hips as she moved them around, squeezing her young breasts, touching her nipples so they went hard and pressed through the thin, tight fabric. "Do I look like I'm ready to please my man?" She winked, then opened her legs slightly, rubbing her pussy once, and moaning. "It sure feels like I am." I shook my head with a disbelieving smile, and stood to meet her in the middle of the room, her walk still a little awkward in these spikes. We kissed softly, then more passionately as I felt her young body, smelling her hair. "Make me a woman," she moaned between kisses. "I know I'm young, but I promise, I'll be the best woman you've ever had. Just show me what to do... and I promise, I'll do it." She kissed me again, and looked into my eyes. "Men are supposed to be in charge," she said looking down at my body and up again. "Especially in the bedroom..." One more little soft kiss. "...sir." She slipped down to her knees, quickly, looking up with a big grin. "Do you want me to blow you all the way first? Mmm, I love the taste of your cum!" She licked my tip softly, and I groaned, pulling her head down, letting her suck it. She went on and on, not even knowing what my plans were, content to suck me all night again if I wanted her to. I told her that she was going to make a good wife. She pulled back, her lips making a wet noise, her eyes big as she looked up. "Don't hold back. I promise, any fantasy you have, we can make it come true." She slurped a little harder and looked up, strands from my tip to her lips. "Even if it's a little degrading, that's okay, as long as it gets you off better. Turning you on makes me wet, even when you're really aggressive with me." She rubbed her lips across my tip a few times, licked, then sucked me over and over, bobbing, twisting, moaning. I moaned too, putting a hand on her head, subtly guiding her movements. I wanted to fuck her so bad, but I knew I would cum right away. The solution dawned on me, and I nearly came, pulling back. I told her that I was going to pop her back door first. She looked a little confused, then giggled, a finger on her lip for a moment. "Oh, okay! That sounds fun," she said with a naughty look. "I've been lubing my little ass for the last few nights, hoping you would take both my virginities. My pussy is always wet when I'm with you, and I want my bum to be the same way." She sucked again, and I moaned, leaning against a dresser. I felt my orgasm approaching, but held back, making her slow down and tease me a little. She licked softly, moaning, wetly showing her affection. "You're so big," she said softly between licks. "I don't know if you'll fit, but we can try. And if you can't get inside me..." She sucked deep, trying to deepthroat me, but unable to get more than two thirds down before backing up and panting, looking up with teary eyes. "...then I'll give you a nice deep throat blowjob. I'll keep sucking until I get it all, or at least, until you can't cum anymore." Her words drove me forward, and I shoved myself down her young throat, gagging her, feeling her hands push lightly on my knees, then let go as she remembered her place. I fucked her mouth harder than ever, hearing her gag on every bob as she tried her best to suck me like she imagined an older woman would, not realising that most women never learned to suck dick this well, let alone teenage girls. I pulled back, stroking in her pretty teen face as she looked up, tears rolling down past her dirty half smile, her face looking as young as ever, a little innocent, but too pretty and too sexy not to shoot my load across. "Are you gonna cum, sir? Mmmm, you know I'll do anything for your cum, anything to give you the nicest, longest, wettest, most sexiest orgasms I can. I promise, perfect blowjobs every time. I'm your private cocksucker!" My first jet shot across her face, and she winced, looking up nervously before smiling again. "Oh, sir..." She started, moving her mouth back and forth, catching the spurts. She spoke as my cum flew out, all across her young pretty face. "Mmm, sir, I'll be a very good girl when we're married..." Another three cum ropes went from her hair, across her forehead, down her nose, and over her lips as she spoke. "...the husband is in charge..." I sprayed again, hard, covering her cheek, some of it going into her eyelashes which stretched it out in a very sexy way. A loud groan escaped me as the spurting slowed, but the instensity of my orgasm still in full force. "...girls should do what they're told." Another little spurt onto her tongue, a loud groan as I pulled myself one last time, and I told her to swallow. She did it instantly, cutely, then started sucking me again with her young teen face covered in a big man sized load. She moaned, and I didn't stop her, that cute little head of hers content to bob all night. After a short while I picked her up by her hair, and she teased me with her lips and face, knowing she looked very sexy, and slutty right now. I told her she was the best cocksucker I'd ever had. "Oh, thank you sir! That's so good to hear," she said emphatically, hands on my heaving chest. "A good girl gives good head! Just like me." She giggled as I led her over to my bed, pulling her panties down. "Just so you know, I might cum as soon as you put it inside me. I hope you don't mind!" She smiled and bit her cummy lip, and I slapped her ass, telling her I hoped she would. She rolled her eyes and excitedly beamed at me, rubbing her legs together for a moment. "You have no idea how horny I am right now," her voice seductive. "After sucking you all those times, I can't wait to be fucked." She bit her lip and looked at me with big eyes, my big wet load across her face, dripping slightly from her chin. I took her hand and turned her, so she was seated on the bed, then lifted her knees, and watched her lay down on her back with her feet in the air. Her little panties came off quickly, and I spread her legs, took myself in hand and rubbed my tip into her squishy little pussy. Immediately she started moaning, turning her head side to side, having never experienced this before. As I slipped inside a little, she grabbed at the sheets, then her breasts, breath heavy and quick, her cummy face showing her pleasure and reluctance at the same time, as she realised how big I felt in her virgin slit. "Careful, sir," she said cutely with a knowing smile. "This is my first time. Oooh, you feel so big right now..." My tip was pressing into her little slit, tighter than I could have imagined, but she opened up a little bit and I was actually going inside. Her face was cute, different emotions, lust, giddiness, and a little fear, along with her involuntary wincing whenever I pressed deeper, or started to thrust back and forth. She was completely wet, quiverring, squeezing me as I started to slip in and out. She felt tiny, and smooth, barely able to take me. Her moans grew more sensual as I progressed, not going too fast, just letting her get used to it. She caressed my body after a while, looking up with sexy eyes, like she couldn't get enough of me. "Soo good," she moaned with light quick breaths as I thrust faster into her. "I... never knew it would... be so... aaah!!" She came in a moment, shaking, writhing, grabbing at me as I leaned in close, pushing harder and faster. She winced and her eyes rolled, her body tensing up from the orgasm, and the aching from my cock pressing into a place she'd never even touched with her fingers. It was wild, hearing her young voice moan and moan, going into short bursts as the waves hit her, her tiny virgin pussy squeezing and dripping feminine juices all over me. I had to slow down, and her expression changed to one of pure pleasure, cumming again a little differently, just moving eagerly under me, having her mind blown. I kissed her and brushed her hair back, seeing the cum on her face as it started to dry a little bit. I moved the cum from her face into her mouth with my fingers, and she licked it sexily at first, but gave up and just held her mouth open as her orgasm continued, moaning as I wiped the warm goo across her lips, dripping into her mouth. Looking away for a moment was all I could do to control myself, but as she moaned in her little light feminine voice, I knew I had to pull out. Cooling off for a moment, I watched her reach down and play with her pussy, immediately cumming again. It was the sort of thing she didn't usually do, but she was so turned on, she just had to keep it going. I told her that I nearly had came again, and she looked up at me with big eager eyes. "You can get me pregnant if you want," she said cutely. "I would love to be your little housewife." I half chuckled for a moment, looking a little surprised, and told her that she definitely was wife material, and that eventually I would get her pregnant, but not right away. She came again, moaning aloud, rubbing her little wet pussy. I pushed myself inside, and felt her little body cum under me again, squeezing my hard cock with tight, warm softness. "I'll... ohh... I'll swallow your... your load, every... single... day... until you wanna... put it somewhere el... else..." Again I had to pull out, telling her that she was really turning me on. "Good, you stud," she said with heavy breath. "Do you wanna cum in my mouth?" I took her by the hair and pulled her down to the floor, and she looked up as I stroked in her face, still holding her hair tight above her head. "Are you gonna cum on my face, sir?" I groaned loudly, and slapped my cock hard against her face, making her wince each time. "Ow, ow... that one hurt a little!" She looked up innocently as I slipped back into her little mouth, fucking her pretty face. She looked back down and concentrated, giving me the best head she could while I held her hair firmly. She moaned a little with each bob of her head, cutely, knowing it sounded sexy. After a while I started pressing into her throat, making her gag a little. I pressed harder and harder, but she never resisted, simply squeezed my thighs whenever she started to choke. Not that I let up, of course. I fucked her mouth hard, and after about another minute, my orgasm hit powerfully, and I could tell I was about to spurt, so I pulled out and started stroking, slapping her lightly with my hand. She didn't question it, just kept looking up while my balls tightened, looking as pretty as she could, as seductive as possible. "Oh, sir," she gushed, fluttering her eyelashes, her heels dragging a little as she got into position to receive a facial, again. "I can't wait to move in, and make you cum all day, every -" She gasped as a powerful, very wet splash of cum hit her face, going across her nose and into her right eye. She opened her mouth and blinked, trying to look up at me again as I shot twice more, right into her mouth, seeing it pool behind her lower lip. The next four spurts were milkier, and thick, shooting across her face, arcing up onto her forehead, and landing in long white ropes down her nose, her cheeks, across her eyelashes, into her mouth. She leaned underneath as the shots got weaker, making sure to catch every drop on her young, pretty face. "You reawy wike fahiaws, don you?" She said cutely. "Mmm, me koo!" I told her to swallow, and she did, quickly, showing me her tongue. "You're so sexy," she said innocently. "I'll do anything you want. Even things other girls won't do..." She sucked my tip quickly, making me moan, then pulled back, a finger playing with the cum on her face slightly, teasing me. "...like, I'll let you fuck me in the ass," she said quietly, kissing my tip. "Just be careful. It's my first time doing that, too." My eyes widened and I looked up, pulling her head forward, letting her suck me eagerly while I imagined it. I had just cum twice really hard, but somehow, she was keeping me erect. I told her to slow down a little, and she stayed like that, just softly sucking me, making sure I would stay nice and hard for her little bum. Her moans got softer, her slurping wetter and more tender. She went a long time like that, and I sat at the edge of the bed, letting her keep going. It went on for ages, and once I was sure and ready, I pulled her back, strands of gooey, cummy spit stretching. "Are you gonna fuck me in the ass now, sir?" I moaned, and she smiled, loving how hot she was making me. With a nod, I then stood up, took her hand, and led her to the bed. She laid down on her back, spreading her legs, and licked her fingers, playing with her little bottom. It already looked juicy from her earlier fucking, and as I slipped a finger inside, I felt that she was pretty wet already in there. "That feels strange," she said with a cute pout, teasing me. "Maybe you should try two fingers, just to get me ready." I did, and she moaned, gasping when the went deep inside. "Ow... oh, your cock is gonna really hurt!" She looked a little scared, but as I started cleaning her face with my other hand, and as she licked the cum from my fingers, she relaxed quite a bit. "It feels better now," she told me with renewed confidence. "Maybe I can do this after all." I crawled over her, positioning myself, pressing down. She looked a little scared as I popped inside, feeling her contract and relax over and over, getting used to having a man inside her bum. As I started thrusting, she struggled a little instinctively, trying to get away, but I pinned her down and pressed hard, making her groan, a tear rolling from one eye to the pillow. "Ow, sir," she said cutely, making me slow down with her begging, irresistable eyes. "Please, careful! I'll keep practicing until I'm good at it, but right now, you feel sooo big! It hurts!" I did slow down, and her groans became more sensual, moaning as I went. It felt different, tight, incredibly warm. I hadn't fucked a girl's ass in years, but this felt like the best one ever. Keeping myself under control was difficult, seeing this beautiful, young woman give in. Her cries and tears made me want to slow down, but also made me want to go harder, to dominate her. It was a balance that kept me going at a decent pace most of the time, just hard enough to hurt her a little. She gave in, stopped struggling completely, letting herself enjoy it, still wincing and jumping when I went a little too hard. "Aaaahhh... does that feel... ow!... good?" I caressed her face, feeling her rub back, and slapped her twice. She looked up with big scared eyes. "Did I do something wrong, sir?" She said innocently. No, I told her, she hadn't. It just turned me on to do that sometimes, to know that she would let me do anything if it got me off. "Oh," she said with a cute smile. "Well... you can do it again if you want!" I slapped her a little harder, and she looked up with a dirty expression. "It's kinda sexy," she admitted out loud. "Just letting you do that to me. I mean, like, girls are supposed to be submissive, and letting you slap me in the face, that's really submissive. Wow!" The thought of it made her runny, and she moaned as I fucked her ass. It was too much, and I pulled out for a moment, rubbing myself between her firm, soft little cheeks. "Oh," she said with a grin. "You had to pull out? Hmm, maybe you should let me suck that last bit of cum out. You could slap me while I do it!" She looked genuinely excited, so I once again pulled her to the floor by her hair, and made her suck me, which she did passionately, despite my having just been inside her little ass. She didn't hesitate, just sucking deeply, wetly, showing me how good she'd gotten at making me cum this way. As my balls tightened, she moaned, sucking deep. With my free hand I slapped her face a couple times, feeling it through her cheek as I bucked. The first jet of cum was small, but it made her moan, and I knew she could taste it. The next few were bigger, not huge, but a decent size. I pulled back a little, and she sucked my tip hard, my load easily spilling out. I pulled out for a moment and stroked, watching as she put her tongue out under my tip and looked up, submissively taking the last of my load, making sure I could see it as it dripped back into her mouth. I shook myself, wiping my tip on her tongue. She fluttered her eyelashes up at me and smiled, making me leak on last pearl of white man juice, which I wiped on her nose. She giggled and looked up, showing off the load. I groaned, and told her to swallow, which she did, again. "I love swallowing your loads," she told me with an almost drunken expression. "It's what a good girl should do for her man." She sucked me a few times, and I felt almost like there was a little left, and told her so. "Well then," she said with a big smile. "You just relax, sit back, and let me suck out the rest. I promise, I won't stop sucking tonight until you're totally drained of cum. And, if you want, I'll keep going even then -" I cut her off with my cock, fucking her mouth firmly. She got in position, holding her head still, her hands on my knees lightly as I went. At the end of the night, we went to bed, the smell of cum strong on her breath, her scent strong on my cock, both of us naked together under the sheets. Of course, she still had the heels on. Chapter 4: The Proposal The next day when I arrived home, she had emailed me an attachment. When I opened it, I was shocked to find pictures of her in sexy outfits, sometimes naked. The last few were closeups of her face from each night that she blew me, 7 separate facials from different angles on her young, pretty face. The first one was huge, and I couldn't help but smile, remembering her surprised expression as she was sprayed with all the man juice I'd built up since my arrival. She was flirtatious, winking in the pictures sometimes, knowing I would be looking at them later. The last pictures were her with the engagement ring on, holding her fingers up proudly. She had a serious, but very sexy look on her face, wearing a tiny, revealing french maid costume, complete with a cute cap, thigh highs and high heels as I saw in the next pic, a full body shot of her, in a sexy pose, ring visible. I had proposed to her the last morning I was there, right before getting in the rental car to go off home, on one knee. She had looked beautiful in her summer dress, a dreamlike vision in my memory, saying yes. We kissed a long time, and I wanted to make love with her once more before I left, but knew I didn't have long. Quickly I took her back to the bedroom, and sat her down. "What are you doing?" She asked with a smile as I knelt down, spreading her legs. "Are you gonna... oh, sir!" Discovering that she had no panties on, seeing her bare teenaged pussy underneath her dress, I knew it was meant to be. I kissed her thighs, at her knees, then lower, until I reached her little pussy, kissing all over. Her juices squished sexily, and I enjoyed her girlish taste as I started licking, slowly parting her lips, going all the way in. She didn't stop me, but she'd never had this done before, and it made her really excited. Her hand went to my head as her orgasm quickly approached. "You're so amazing," she whispered, breathing heavily, pretty eyes closed. "I'm gonna cum real soon! It's just... like... so..." She started moaning over and over, louder and louder as I licked evenly, softly. I felt her hand tense slightly on my head, and went faster, harder, a little bit at a time, letting her get more and more worked up. Soon she was moaning loud enough that anyone in the house could hear, her wetness everywhere, warm on my lips and tongue. She groaned loudly, pressing my head down as I licked her clit hard, wet, and fast. Her orgasm grew by the second, loud moans as her body went crazy from this new sensation. As I felt her ass, making her cum, making her moan, I slipped a finger up into her little anus, and she didn't notice at first, but when she did, it made her cum a little more, bucking hard as I fingered her bottom, licking her clit. A few moments later she pushed back, but I held my head down and licked, making her shake and react, too sensitive, but still in her post orgasmic fuzziness. She came again, and let me go, giving out a long groan, and falling limply into the chair. I sat up and she immediately looked up at me, grabbing my cock. "Maybe just one little blowjob," she said softly, her glazed happy look turning me on. "Before you hit the road. I promise, I'll do it really fast. Please?" I groaned and unzipped my pants, dropping them quickly. She dropped to her knees, and started sucking right away, holding my base so her soft lips could catch me. I put my hand in her hair and sighed, letting myself get worked up quickly. I told her that as my wife, she would be sucking my cock every day, and probably swallowing. She just moaned and bobbed her little delicate head some more. I then told her that I would be the man of the house, and that she couldn't say no to me, especially in the bedroom. That she needed to really take care of me. She looked up, pulling back a moment, teasingly. "Of course, sir! I'll be nice and submissive, and do everything I'm told, like a little wife is supposed to. It'll be my pleasure..." One little bob of her head on my cock between her words... "...my pleasure to suck you off as much as you want..." Another slurp. "...and to take your cock in my ass, my pussy, my titties..." A deep, long suck. "...whatever you want. After all..." A big, long, moaning suck, with her head twisting a little, and a pop of her lips at the end for effect. "...you'll be the head of the household." My balls tightened as she sucked and moaned, letting me force myself down into her mouth whenever I felt like it. She was very quickly becoming an expert cocksucker. I asked if she would be my French maid sometimes. "Oh," she said with my tip on her lips. "Is that a fantasy of yours?" More slurping, while I moaned and looked up for a moment, then down again with a big grin on my face. "I would love to put on a little maid outfit. That sounds really fun." She sucked again, smoothly, her wet mouth gliding as she looked up, knowing I was close to cumming. When her lips were on my tip, I started stroking slightly, telling her to suck the tip. She did, sucking hard, with her soft lips twisting and bobbing slightly. My cum was pushing up, and I knew I would spill it soon, so I pushed her head down hard, forcing myself into her throat. She gagged, panicking for a moment, but didn't pull back very hard at all. In a moment I'd pulled out, and was stroking in her face, groaning aloud, feeling her tongue flick over my tip. This was my morning cum, after having my balls emptied completely last night, so it wasn't as big of a load, but it was very sexy watching her stick out her tongue to cradle my tip, while I stroked myself. I shot hard, wetly, a little thin, going to the back of her mouth as she smiled and looked up innocently with big eager eyes. I groaned and squeezed myself for a minute, letting the last little bits roll out onto her tongue. When she was told, she closed her wet lips and let my load slide down her throat, looking up at me after, licking her lips. I pulled her down and she sucked for another minute or two, as I sat down in the chair, relaxing for a moment. As I left through the front door, I kissed her passionately, the smell of my cum strong on her breath, and hers on mine. With a little squeeze of her pert ass, I turned and walked off. "When are we gonna get married," she asked sweetly, softly. "Tomorrow? The day after?" My heart ached and I went back up, held her hands, and told her that everything would be ready in one month. She excitedly kissed me all over, telling me that she couldn't wait. It was a few minutes before I finally left, driving off. It was a long trainride with a fitful sleep, thinking of her, wondering when she would be in my arms again and what being her husband would be like. The thought of having her every day, the sex, the blowjobs, the sexy little teases she did, the outfits... it was the most thrilling anticipation I could remember. And when I finally got home, and saw those pictures, I couldn't help myself. I stroked off to them, probably her intention all along.

Wednesday Morning: "Obeying Alex" Becky tapped lightly at the door, her loins trembling at the thought of being Alex's submissive "plaything" for the day. She hadn't slept well last night, tossing about, excited yet worried about what she had agreed to in a sexual haze the day before. At the same time the thought of being completely naked again all day and doing nasty things with the two young people made her tingle. She felt a few drops of nervous sweat under her arms and also felt her feet get damp. The door opened and Tara, with only the same panties from yesterday on, motioned her inside. Before Becky could greet the pretty teenager, Tara stepped back and said quickly, "Take off your clothes, Becky. Alex has had a hardon for hours from thinking about the fun we're going to have again." Becky quickly slipped out of her sandals and loosened the buttons on her short skirt. As it dropped to the floor she looked up at Alex. He was leaning against the hallway wall, smiling and watching her. Becky excitedly unbuttoned her sleeveless top and slipped it off, baring her pert breasts. It had been only moments and she was naked except for her high cut white panties. She put her thumbs in the waistband and started to peel them off when Alex ordered her, "Stop. Come here. Did you do what we told you? Are these the same undies you had on yesterday? Did you sleep in them last night so they'd soak up my cum from yesterday, and not take a shower this morning, just washed that cute little ass crack of yours?" Becky smiled at him and nodded. Her breasts swayed gently as she quickly moved towards him, and stood with her hands at her sides in front of the handsome boy. "Spread your feet." Becky moved her slender legs apart, and looked into Alex's eyes. "Get your pussy nice and wet before you take your dirty panties off. Rub your pretty cunt for us while you tell us what we're going to do." Becky quickly began to finger the thin crotch of her panties while the boy watched her intently. "Now tell me what kind of fun we're going to have, Becky." She was trembling slightly, swallowing nervously she said softly, "I'm yours for the day, Alex. I'll do anything you want. I'll suck your cock, and lick your balls as much as you want me to. I'll lick and eat your asshole, and you can fuck me all day long, and then cum in my mouth or on my face. I love your hot cum fresh from your big balls all over my face. I'll drink your cum as many times as you want." She glanced at Tara then back at Alex, "I'll hold your cock while you pee, then you can watch me lick it and taste your piss. If she wants I'll eat Tara's hot pussy and tongue her cute little asshole as much as she wants. I'll let you fuck me in the ass with your beautiful dick, and then I'll lick your cock clean while you come on my face. We can do anything you and Tara want, Alex." Becky could feel the front of panties start to get wet. Alex smiled at her and felt his cock twitch inside his cut off sweats. Tara moved behind the dark haired woman and reached around and began to tickle Becky's stiff nipples, causing Becky to finger her cunt harder. Alex watched her closely. "That's enough. Take off your panties and give them to me." She quickly stripped the lacy garment down her slender legs and stepped out of them. Completely naked Becky straightened up and handed them to Alex. He took the soft cloth, turned it inside out and lifted the damp, sticky front panel to her nose, at the same time slipped the middle finger of his other hand easily into Becky's wet pussy. "You smell like a hot horny cunt. Are you a hot horny cunt, Becky?" She squirmed from his fingering of her pussy and said softly, "Oh God yes, I'm a horny cunt, Alex, and I love your finger in me." He moved backwards into the living room pulling her with him by the pussy. He stopped in the center of the room and slipped his finger from her cunt and smelled it. Then he took the wet digit and pressed it to her lips, watching as Becky quickly opened her mouth and sucked at his wet finger, sticky with her juices. Alex took her hand and put it on the front of his sweats, closing her fingers around his large erection. She tightened her fingers and squeezed his penis softly, then with her other hand she cupped his balls through his shorts, hoping to herself that they were full and that he was eager to have her suck them dry. "That's real nice Becky; Alex said to her, "now pull my pants down and let me watch you lick my cock for a while. I fucked Tara last night before we went to sleep and there's a nice coating of dried pussy juice and cum on my dick. Just right for you to lick off and have a tasty snack while we watch". Becky dropped to her knees and pulled his sweats and jockeys down to just under his dangling balls. The stale, pungent male odor of his teenage groin filled her senses immediately. She felt her pussy tingle as she wrapped her slender fingers around the base of his cock and began run her nose all over the skin of his semi-erect penis. From the smell there was no doubt that twelve hours ago he surely had it in Tara's tight little cunt. "You like that smell, honey?" "You like the smell of my big, dirty ol' dick, Becky?" "Oh God yes, Alex." "It smells so fucking good with Tara's juices and your dried cum on it." "That's good Becky, now I want to you lick and suck it clean for me. Lick it all over, use that sweet tongue and clean under my cockhead." Becky quickly ran her wet tongue over the skin of his hardening cock shaft wetting then eating the overnight residue. She looked up at Alex and smiled as she worked the tip and then the flat of her tongue under his cockhead, cleaning last of the dried juices. "Ah, that was very nice Becky. Let me sit down and I want you to pull my pants the rest of the way down and lick my balls for me. I want to watch you put your naughty tongue between my legs and make my balls feel good. Tara, get the camera, today let's take some pictures of Becky's hot tongue in action. Bring the video camera too." The naked woman moved quickly towards him and tugged Alex's gray sweatpants down the rest of the way while he slipped his jockeys back up over his erection. She slipped the sweats off his bare feet while she stared at the bulge in the front of his underwear. "I've had these on for you since yesterday, Becky, and I wore them to practice this morning. They're like me, sweaty and really dirty, just the way you said you like it. In a little bit I want you to take them off me and smell and lick them for Tara and me. We both want to watch you lick the ass of my jockeys nice and clean." Becky leaned forward and began to lick carefully at the stained front of his underwear and then closed her mouth around his cloth covered cock. She nibbled at the large lump as he moaned softly. Becky slid her fingers in the leg band of his shorts and pulled it to the side, releasing his swollen balls. She could smell the powerful pungent, tart odor as she put her face down to them and pressed her nose into the soft hairs. Recalling the naughty things that the muscular boy liked, she inhaled deeply at his sweaty balls while he watched and listened. Alex looked down at her as her tongue began to swirl around his oily ballsacks and said, "You like that don't you Becky? You like to smell and taste my dirty, sweaty balls, don't you?" Becky groaned into his fat, sour smelling balls and replied, "Oh God yes, Alex! I love the taste and smell of your hairy, sweaty balls. I love it when you haven't washed your nuts, and then tell me the things you want me to do!" She heard the soft click of the digital camera as Tara moved closer to her and Alex. Becky groaned again and then began to lick and suck at his nuts as Tara continued to take pictures of her long tongue licking all over her brother's smelly balls. She savored the sharp taste of his sweat, and the strong masculine smell of his pungent crotch. Alex began to wiggle around and then lifted one foot up on a nearby chair allowing her complete access, lowering his balls into her face, and enjoying the feeling of her warm tongue as she licked and washed his sweaty nut sacks. Becky finally pulled his balls up and licked at the backside of them, tracing her tongue up the wrinkled skin until she reached the tasty, soft flesh where they hung from his crotch. Alex rocked on his heels as he watched her long, pink tongue lick eagerly at the soiled ridge behind his nuts. Becky carefully slid her hand between his legs and rubbed his cloth covered ass while she continued licking behind his balls. She caressed the backside of his jockeys with her fingers, feeling his muscular ass twitch, and then she put her first two fingers together and pressed the cotton rear panel slowly into his warm crack. She heard the boy groan softly as her cloth covered fingers pushed deeper into his ass, finally pressing against his asshole. Becky licked loudly at his heavy balls while her fingers firmly tickled the rim of his sphincter through his underwear. Alex groaned and wiggled from the wonderful feeling. "Oh Becky, that's nice. Now I want you to take my shorts off and lick them nice and clean for us. You told me how much you liked that, now show me." Alex dropped back to the sofa and turned around, kneeling on the bottom cushions. He rested his head on the back cushion with his ass turned towards Becky. Becky quickly scooted on her knees behind the trembling boy, eager to taste him again. His shorts were still lodged in between his smooth ass cheeks as she put her hands at his waist to steady herself. He looked over his shoulder and in a throaty voice said, "I want you to make me feel real good, Becky. Pull 'em down and use that long pretty tongue on me. Don't stop until I tell you too. Tara, come over here closer and take some pictures of Becky's pretty face and tongue in my ass." Becky took the material and stretched it from his leg openings. The cloth pulled from his ass, an unmistakable dark spot in front of her face. Becky quickly leaned forward rubbing the damp circle against her nose, inhaling deeply while Tara snapped several pictures. She moaned as she sucked the stained cloth into her mouth savoring the earthy taste, her hot breath warming the boy's skin underneath. Eager to please her young "master" she slipped her fingers into the waistband and slid his shorts down to the back of his knees. She reached around and gripped his thighs and then licked her tongue up and down the sides of his moist, lightly haired crack. Alex bent over slightly holding on to the chair. He spoke to her in a shaky voice, "Pull them all the way off and spread me. Put your face in my smelly ass. Talk to me while you do me." Becky quickly obeyed. Using her hands and fingers she anxiously pulled his smooth ass cheeks wide apart and eagerly buried her face deep into the pungent opening. Tara leaned toward her and took a picture of Becky's nose pressed against Alex's wrinkled brown asshole. She pulled her face back from his ass and groaned in a raspy voice, "I love smelling and eating your ass. I love to kneel behind you and have you tell me to wash it with my tongue. I love the taste when I clean it for you." Again Alex moaned loudly as he felt her tongue move back in, licking eagerly at the tart rim of skin around his puckered anus. Becky enjoyed the way he trembled and groaned as she stimulated his rear. The smell and taste of the young man was arousing her and she felt her nerve endings tingle. Had he wanted she would have eaten his ass all day. Alex wrapped his fingers around his rigid cock as Becky continued to stab her stiffened tongue past the rim and finally into his asshole. He let her continue rimming him for a long time, enjoying her now muffled groans and the intense feeling of her greedy tongue swirling inside his bowels. Finally satisfied that she had cleaned him enough he looked over shoulder and told her, "Suck my cock. Put your mouth on my dick." Becky slipped her face from his ass, moved to his side and gobbled his hard penis quickly back into her mouth. She tasted the salty pre cum on the head as the hard shaft slid down her tongue. She smelled his sweaty pubic hair as she took him deeper, her lips tight around his warm meat. Becky swirled her tongue around the hard veined shaft as she sucked at him, savoring the tangy taste of his manhood along with the pungent aroma of his groin. She had loved the act of cocksucking ever since she was a young girl when she and a neighbor boy explored oral sex. Kneeling in front of a man, servicing the very essence of his masculinity, feeling him tower above her was the most arousing thing she could imagine. She could feel Alex shake a little, and then felt him grip his cock and pull it from her mouth. "We need to slow down a bit," he said to her. "I don't want to cum for a long time yet". Alex lifted to her feet by lacing his hands under her wet underarms. He caressed her breasts as they stood quietly facing one another, sweaty and naked. Tara moved to the table and recovered a fresh joint from her purse. She lit it and inhaled deeply, then walked to the naked couple. She lifted the smoke to Alex's lips and he also inhaled deeply. Then she moved to Becky and pressed the smoldering stick to her lips. Becky inhaled very deep then held the smoke in, a throwback to her college days. When she exhaled she could feel the narcotic immediately affect her body. She felt herself relax, and giggle to herself, realizing that soon any inhibitions she might possibly still have would float away too. Alex moved her to the center of the sunlit room. "Lay down on the floor. Lay on your back and so I can put my dick back in your mouth. Just lick and suck my cock real soft, I don't want to cum yet. And, no hands." Becky felt wonderfully light headed and dropped to the floor then rolled onto her back, enjoying the feel of the soft carpet. She looked to the ceiling, watching excitedly as Alex moved overhead and straddled his feet wide on either side of her face. She watched as he lowered himself to his knees above her head. Alex took her arms and pulled them away from her body. Then he inched around, finally moving his shins so that they lay across Becky's outstretched arms. She looked up at his rigid penis, opening her mouth as he pushed his erection down and into her warm mouth. Once it was in an inch or so he stopped and allowed her to suck softly at the thick shaft and head. He carefully moved his hips up and down controlling the penetration. Becky loved the erotic helpless feeling, and sucked him gently. As she sucked his wonderful tasting cock she could hear Tara move around the room, softly padding on the carpet. Finally she heard the girl stop between her outstretched legs and kneel down. Alex leaned forward and put his hands behind Becky's knees and then pulled them apart and slightly back. She felt her wet vagina open, exposed to the room. As Becky continued to delicately suck Alex's cock Tara began to lick at the woman's puffy cunt lips. She could feel the girl's tongue lick all over and probe inside her pussy. She also knew Alex was watching his stepsister. Alex scooted back a little and closed his thighs tighter to Becky's face, and then he lowered his cock a little further into her eager mouth. She was effectively trapped between his strong legs with his fat cock in her mouth and she loved it. Becky began to feel the girl's fingers playing with her cunt and ass. As the girl continued to suck her cunt she could feel the fingers now wet and a little sticky roam between her legs. She couldn't figure exactly what was happening but it felt wonderful. After a few minutes the girl lifted her face from Becky's pussy and slowly stood up, wiping the wetness from her face. Alex gripped Becky's knees tighter and pulled them back even further. Then he lowered his cock further into her mouth. All Becky could see was the shaft of his cock and his heavy balls dangling towards her forehead. Suddenly Becky gave a startled lurch, but Alex pressed tighter to her face. She felt something cold and wet pressing against her stretched open pussy. Then she felt it again! And then a warm huge tongue! Oh God, she thought to herself, Tony! The large Labrador was quickly in full stride, wildly eating and licking the sweet, sticky honey that Tara had spread all over Becky's cunt and ass. His tongue seemed to be everywhere at once as the trapped woman frantically wiggled her hips. She mumbled something, but Alex pushed his hard cock into her mouth. Slowly Becky relented to her helplessness, and sucked harder at his cock hoping he would cum soon and Tony might stop. Tara held the large animal tightly by his collar as he feverishly licked at the sweet combination of honey and aroused pussy. Alex pulled Becky's slim legs back further as he watched the beautiful dog eat her cunt. Becky squirmed frantically as the big wet tongue lashed excitedly at her gaping pussy. She felt his tongue move between the cheeks of her ass and begin to wipe wildly at her puckered asshole. The sensitive nerves around her sphincter started to throb from the licking, while she felt the dog's wet nose pressing against her hardened clit. Tara trembled with excitement as she held Tony tightly and watched his wild actions. She leaned over and looked underneath the animal's belly. The dog was totally aroused and his bright red penis was fully extended from its furry sheath. She pulled him back away a bit and watched as he sniffed at Becky's open vagina. There was something there that he liked, and the dog lunged forward, twisted his muzzle to one side and stuck the full length of his huge tongue into the open hole. Becky moaned wildly and bucked her hips against the animal's snout, as she felt his tongue fill her pussy and lash wildly inside the walls of her womb. No cock had ever made her feel like this, and her whole body started to tremble as Tony's big flat tongue dug deeper into her, desperately attempting to get all of the sweet nectar that Tara had filled her cunt with. Becky sucked on Alex's cock harder as she felt herself submit to the depravity of having her pussy tongue-fucked by the relentless canine. A wave started to wash over her body, and she knew, like it or not, the beast was going to make her orgasm. She clenched her fists and curled her toes tighter as the feeling consumed her whole body. Suddenly she shook as every nerve ending seemed to explode at once. Wave after wave of sexual pleasure washed over her as her orgasms started, and then seemed that they would never end. Alex lifted his hips and she felt his rock hard cock slip from mouth. Her mouth suddenly empty, Becky began to cry aloud, "Oh My God! Oh..oh..oh fuck! Oh, Jesus fuck my pussy Tony! Fuck your tongue in my cunt! Oh God I can't stop cumming!" Alex watched her thrash around the animal's big snout and thought his own cock would burst. As the tide of spasms finally began to slow Tara tugged at the dog's collar and pulled him from Becky's wet crotch. She told him firmly, "Sit!" and the powerful animal dropped to his haunches, back from the delicious pussy. Alex released his hold on Becky's legs and they dropped shakily to the floor. The woman was breathing in loud gasps trying to catch her breath. She could feel that her body was covered with rivers of sweat while she tried to get enough air to fill her lungs. Alex climbed off her heaving chest, freeing her arms. As soon as he did the panting woman straightened her arms and clutched at her throbbing pussy with both hands. Alex knelt beside her wet body, then leaned over and sucked gently on her sweaty nipple. Becky moaned very loud and grabbed her wet crotch tighter with trembling hands. Alex finally sensed that her breathing was returning to normal, and grinning to himself, climbed back over her flushed face and lowered his wet balls to her lips. He squatted obscenely over her face dangling his nuts on her lips. Becky could feel the soft hairs on his testicles against her lips and she instinctively opened her mouth for him. Alex squatted lower allowing one of his swollen, sweaty nuts to drop in. He moaned as Becky obediently began to suck gently on the plum sized ball in her mouth. She looked up at his spread ass and could see his brown asshole twitch each time she softly sucked him. She switched to the other testicle, tugging at the full sac with her lips, while she inhaled the familiar, strong earthy odor of the boy's ass spread open over her face. Tony abruptly got on all fours and quickly moved forward, sticking his black snout over Becky's forehead. The dog sniffed above her and then stuck his tongue in Alex's ass. "Jesus Christ!" Alex yelped. "Tony, get your nose out of my ass!" Both Becky and Tara giggled out loud. Tara finally said, "Tony! Lay down Tony!" The handsome dog reluctantly backed off, and dropped to his belly, his soft fur against Becky. Alex rose from Becky's face and again knelt beside her. Tara fished around and found the half finished joint and then joined Alex on the floor next to Becky. She lit the joint and inhaled, then passed it to Alex. When Alex was done, Tara reached down and pressed the narcotic to Becky's lips. Becky felt the smoke float through her, and then felt her whole body relax.. Her long legs were still spread and a bit shaky when she casually began to finger her soft pussy hair and warm slit with one hand. Becky turned to look at the pair kneeling next to her, their knees pressed softly to her skin. Alex was sitting back on his calves, his erection jutting proudly up from the tangled hair of his groin. She kept her eyes fixed on his beautiful cock, rock hard and shiny wet from her saliva. Becky mused to herself about its size. Reaching out she wrapped her finger and thumb around the middle of the thick shaft. Her fingers didn't quite encircle it, which made it slightly fatter than her husband's. She continued to stare at the lovely, hard prick, deciding that it was probably 7-7 1/2" long. Very, very adequate, but not uncomfortable. The whole room had a heavy smell of sex and sweat from the three bodies. Sweat dripped from their arm pits and the odor hung in the air, as did the heavy smell of sweaty asses, feet, the girl's pussies, and Alex's big wet balls. Alex groaned a little as Becky began to play again with his cock. He loved her to touch it and sensed that she felt the same. Tara joined in, wrapping her fingers under the head of Alex's prick and squeezing. She watched carefully as a drop of cum formed at the open pisshole from the pressure. "Oh, look Becky, Alex's poor boner is crying. There's a little tear in its eye. Why don't you kiss his tears away?" she giggled. Tara released her fingers as Becky pulled the long prick to her lips and carefully licked off the white pearl at the tip. Alex leaned closer to her, and Becky held his cock across her lips and nibbled underneath at its hard length. She could feel Tony stir at her side, his soft coat warm against her bare skin. The warmth made her tingle in the coolness of the room as she continued to pleasure the boy with her mouth. Tara crawled around Becky's feet and knelt behind her huge yellow pet. With a mischievous grin she raised one of Tony's powerful haunches and looked at his big brown fur covered balls. She felt the dog twist a little as she raised his leg a little further. Holding his leg up, she closed her other hand around one of his furry nuts. Tony's eyes opened and he whimpered softly. His young owner had done this for him before and he began to pant lightly. Tara played with the dog's balls lovingly, rolling them and rubbing them in her dainty fingers as his leg began to pump the air. Tony's long tongue lolled out of his mouth while Tara squeezed his nuts and occasionally ran her finger across his flat wrinkled ass, tickling it. Becky, busy with licking Alex's hot cock, could hear the animal whimper and move against her side. Alex watched his stepsister fondle the animal, feeling his excitement begin to mount. He lifted his hard cock from Becky's mouth and turned her head. "Watch what Tara is doing." Becky looked down and felt her eyes open wide as she watched the young girl play with the animal's ballsacks and finger his ass. It was so deliciously depraved that she couldn't stop watching the girl. Realizing that she had an audience, Tara shivered with delight and in an unforgettable moment, leaned her face down and kissed the dog's fat nuts, then traced her tongue back and swiped the tip at his ass. She kept her face there for several moments, nuzzling and kissing the warm canine flesh. Tony was now on full alert and panting loudly. Tara raised her head up and grinned at the other two. She looked at Becky and said, "Lay your head on his chest so you feel his heart pound. He'll probably cum in a little bit." Becky was sure she knew better, but suddenly realized that she was doing what Tara had suggested. She twisted her naked body a bit on the soft carpet and laid her flushed face against the animal's huge furry chest. She could feel the beast's heart pound against her cheek, and smell the powerful dog's canine odor. His short fur felt warm against her cheek as she listened to his heart and watched the teenaged Tara continue to play with, and kiss the animal's big brown nuts. Becky couldn't help but look at the large furry sheath that housed the dog's penis, and thought to herself that he must have a huge cock. Just as she finished the wanton thought the bright red tip of the animal's cock began to slip out. Becky watched intently as more and more of the aroused prick appeared from its furry home. The dog's penis was a brilliant crimson color, thick and pointed at the head where a human male would have had a flare. Becky heard Tara whisper, "Roll over Tony. Roll over." The dog rolled onto his back under Becky's soft cheek. She watched his back paws as they humped at the air. Tara leaned down and passionately tongued his furry testicles again, then reached forward with her other hand, squeezing and stroking the slick, and now fully exposed canine penis. It was the most incredible sight Becky had ever seen, and in spite of herself she felt a tremendous arousal. Tara moved her hand back to the dog's balls and played excitedly with them. Becky couldn't resist the opportunity, and she reached forward to touch the animal's cock herself. Alex and Tara watched carefully as her fingers began to carefully explore the dog's huge red penis. Becky felt the warmth of the hard shaft, and a slick coating on it. It had a sticky but smooth feeling as she inched her fingers down the shaft, watching it throb as she fondled it carefully. Her fingers quickly reached a hard knot, about the size of a racquet ball, at the base of the dog's cock, and she wrapped her hand around it and squeezed. She heard the panting dog whimper loudly as she continued to caress the fat bulge. Becky's head was swimming from the sheer nastiness of her actions, but she was too aroused to stop. A drop of clear thin fluid appeared at pointed tip and Becky considered it carefully. She was certain that dog's ejaculate would be different from her male companions, and she regarded the animal's dripping cum with interest. Suddenly Becky felt Alex's hand on the back of her head. Her neck muscles tightened. Again she felt him nudge her forward, and for no rational reason she relaxed her muscles, and let him push her face closer to the animal's shiny red penis. "Go ahead Becky. Do it for us. Suck his cock. Put him in your mouth and suck it for us," Alex's voice whispered loudly against her ear. Becky shuddered as she continued to finger, and gently stroke the animal's impressive penis. She knew if she and the dog were alone she would eagerly suck his strange cock. "Please don't ever tell anyone. You have to promise me," Becky's trembling voice replied as she thought about what they wanted her to do. Alex took several short deep breaths, and then he pushed her face to the pointed tip, watching as the sticky fluid touched her lips. Becky moaned softly and opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue she licked carefully around the dog's pointed, smelly cockhead. She knew both of them were watching her taste the animal's penis and the sticky fluid. She trembled but didn't stop licking it. "Please don't tell. I'll do it for you Alex, but nobody can ever know," she whispered at the boy. Alex grinned at her, watching as her face lay against the animal's fur and her tongue continued to lightly lick at the wet cock. "Tell me what you'll do Becky". "I'll suck off the dog. I'll make him cum in my mouth if you want, but it has to be our secret, Alex," Becky said in a breathless voice. "You'll do whatever I want, Becky. That's our deal. Tara, get the video camera so we'll all have something to watch later." Becky shuddered with a combination of excitement and revulsion. She looked back at the dog's balls and his thick tail. She prayed to herself that they really would never tell. Strangely, the depravity of what she had just agreed to do began to excite her. Alex felt his own cock twitch with excitement as he again pushed Becky's head forward, then he watched as the animal's shiny prick slid past her open lips. He released his hand from her head as Becky closed her mouth and started to softly suck on the dog's bright red penis, slowly beginning to enjoy the strange taste. Tara moved in closer to film her sucking the dog's veiny cock. Tony begin whimper loudly and hunch his legs as she sucked delicately on him. Becky licked her tongue around the dog's cock, tasting his tart, gamy flesh. She could smell the stronger canine odor from between his rear legs, and felt it inexplicably begin to arouse her. Becky tightened her mouth on the hard cock and sucked him a little stronger. She held the hard knot in one hand to keep it from bruising against her lips as his powerful muscles continued to fuck her willing mouth. Now having lost all moral stability, Becky scrambled to all fours, pulled the dog's big cock upright, and began to slowly jack him off, while sucking deeply on the animal's huge penis. Alex and Tara watched spellbound as Becky started to moan around the Labrador's smelly cock, sucking and pumping it, completely naked on her hands and knees, her soft breasts swaying beneath her. She sucked her way to the tip of the crimson prick and then licked again at the point. Pulling her lips from it she leaned over towards his rear legs. Holding the wet cock in her left hand she rubbed it against her face, and then bent down towards the beast's tight balls. Tara had hold of Tony's rear paws to help control the dog's humping as Becky stuck out her tongue and leaned further back. She could smell the sharp odor from under his tail, and she swallowed hard, trying to ignore it. She loved the way men smelled, but this was something a little different. Bracing herself she inhaled deeply, primarily for Alex's benefit, and bent her face to the dog's flat brown ass. As she completely covered the animal's wrinkled anus with her mouth she heard Alex moan. Becky began to lick the smelly creases as she felt the dog go wild. For several moments she continued to surround the wide rim with her lips while her tongue licked the musty flesh. It didn't taste as bad as she had thought it might. She felt Alex's hand on the back of head again, pushing her mouth tighter against the huge animal's ass, and this time she didn't resist. Becky heard Tara say in a wicked voice, "Stick it in. Stick your tongue in his ass. Tara, get closer with the camera, we want to be sure to get pretty Becky licking some doggie ass." She felt her mouth go dry. Completely humiliated by the pair she knew they wouldn't let her stop. Becky raised her head from Tony's smelly pucker, stiffened her tongue and then tickled the center of the dog's anus while they watched. Impatiently Alex pushed her head back down, and he and Tara both groaned as they watched Becky's long tongue slip deep into animal's ass. Alex held her head for a long time as she obeyed their depraved comments, reaming, eating and tongue fucking the sticky asshole of their squirming pet, while Tara taped her and the dog. Finally Becky heard Alex say, "Suck him off now. Let his cum rinse your mouth just like you do with me." Becky quickly removed her tongue from the dog's pucker and sucked the big cock back into her mouth. Becky could taste the thin, watery cream that was beginning to ooze from the animal's prick. She swallowed the first dribbles as she felt the dog's body tense noticeably. Suddenly cum gushed from his cock in long spurts and began to fill her mouth. Becky tightened her mouth around Tony's dick then swallowed again and again as the pungent sperm continued to fill her throat. She couldn't have imagined that his balls would hold so much, and tightened her mouth around his spurting shaft in a silly effort not to stain the carpet. Alex watched as Becky's cheeks expanded and contracted rapidly, her throat muscles straining as she attempted to handle the massive load. Wrapping his hand around his stiff cock he quickly moved behind the kneeling woman and shoved his prick deep into her wet pussy. He felt the warm walls of her vagina grip him as he sank into her to the balls. Becky moaned as the head of his penis pushed against her cervix and his balls slapped against her sweaty thighs. As Becky continued to suck the dog Alex began to fuck her with a slow rhythm, first gripping her flared hips, then leaning forward to capture and squeeze her soft tits. Tara watched and video taped their erotic show as the two continued to suck and fuck in front of her. Tony's balls finally emptied, and his hips slowed as Becky finished swallowing, lifting her mouth off the animal's penis. She laid her head on the dog's heaving chest, his great cock laid sticky against her cheek. Becky could feel his wet shaft deflate as she began to concentrate on the fucking that Alex was giving her. The young man's prick was delightfully filling her cunt as he continued to fuck her. Becky held on to Tony's huge chest as she pumped back to greet Alex's thrusts. She could taste the remains of the dogs cum in her mouth as she looked at Tara watching her and Alex fuck. Becky smiled at the young girl while she licked the corners of her mouth, cleaning up the last evidence of her dog sucking. Tara crawled to Becky and cupped the woman's wet face in her hands. The two leaned together as Tara pressed her lips to Becky's. Their mouths opened and they began to eagerly French each other. Tara could taste the unusual flavor of her dog's cum in Becky's mouth, and Becky could taste the tart flavor of Tony's balls still in Tara's. That was more than Alex could take. He pulled his throbbing cock from Becky's pussy and moved between them. Tara scooted back, watching as Alex turned Becky around. He pushed her back until she was sitting cross-legged on the floor. Becky leaned her head forward in an attempt to capture his cock in her mouth. Alex quickly cupped her chin and pushed her back away from his dick. He spoke to her in a low voice, "Sit back and look up. I want to fuck your pretty mouth from above." Alex rose all the way to his feet and stood over his pretty plaything. He moved forward until he was standing directly over her head as she looked towards the ceiling. "That's a good girl, Becky. Put your hands flat behind you and keep your head back. Now open your mouth." Becky quickly obeyed him. Alex looked down into her soft brown eyes and grinned at her. Becky raised her eyebrows, flashed him a sexy smile then quickly reopened her mouth for him. Alex shuffled further forward, pushed his erect cock down, and then bent at the knees guiding the head of his prick into her waiting mouth. Becky sat motionless as the warm shaft, coated with her own juices, slid into her throat. Alex bent lower, pushing his cock further into her open mouth. Becky felt the spongy head bump against the opening at the very back of her throat, causing her to gag slightly. She quickly swallowed to overcome the feeling, and as she did the head of his cock slipped past the constriction and completely down her throat. Becky's nose was buried in his wiry pubic hair and his balls were snug to her chin as she deep throated him. Becky, far past the gagging reflex, began to breathe softly through her nose and swallow. Each time she swallowed her throat muscles tightened behind the head of his cock and milked him. She could see the glazed look in Alex's eyes as she repeated the exercise. He began to sweat and groan as Becky continued to swallow and suck him. Tara stared at the sight of her stepbrother's cock all the way down Becky's throat, realizing that she could actually see the lump of his cockhead in Becky's throat as she swallowed it over and over again. Tara slowly got to her feet and walked behind the trembling Alex. She reached between his legs and playfully squeezed his balls, delighted when he moaned aloud. Bolder now, she realized that he was close to finally cumming, and with a wicked grin took her middle finger and pushed it into his wet asshole. Her finger bottomed out in Alex's rectum as his balls released down Becky's throat. Becky felt the warm liquid slide straight down her throat. She pulled her head back a little and Alex's cockhead slid up into her mouth cavity. He erupted again, this time the salty blast splashed against the roof of her mouth. Becky tightened her lips around the familiar penis and sucked at him. She felt him shoot at least three more times, while she held it all in her mouth for a moment and then swallowed the warm, thick semen. Alex's cock began to soften in her mouth, and she licked at the spongy head as he withdrew from her. Becky could taste the sticky cream that filled her throat as she looked up at the heavily panting boy. Swallowing deeply she cleared her mouth, and still leaning back on her arms, looked up at Alex and said to him in a dreamy voice, "Did you like that?" Alex shuddered and idly ran his fingers up and down his semi-hard penis. "You're a great cocksucker and ass licker, Becky." She rose to her knees and laid her head against his sweaty, hard stomach. She could smell the harsh male odor of exertion and sexual excitement on his skin. "I'll do what you want Alex, but you can't ever tell about the dog. Promise me?" He continued to play with his cock while stroking her soft hair with his other hand. He pressed her head tightly against his skin and said. "I'll not tell, but you have to promise me something too." "What do you want me to promise, Alex?" "If I want you to you'll do it again." Becky leaned her head forward and licked softly at his cock, and said to him, "I'll do whatever you want." (To be continued) ?? ?? ?? ??

Lake Visit Part 1 Dan had just finished about two hours of light work outside in the yard of his lake house. It was mid May and his wife had gone to visit ailing relatives for a few days and he had taken the opportunity to start the tasks of getting the lake property ready for the coming summer. He checked his watch and saw that it was 10:30 a.m. In about thirty minutes Tracy should get there. He had known her casually for over two years as an attractive waitress at the restaurant where he and his staff had lunch nearly every day. Never really flirtatious, she was however always very friendly and attentive. Particularly towards him, since most days he paid the entire tab and tipped graciously. Tracy was average height, in good shape, slender with smallish breasts, a nice butt and a great smile. Like Dan she was also married. She appeared to be in her mid to late 30's. The day before, in the late afternoon, he was poking around the nearby mall looking for some small items for his lake projects when he ran into her. They chatted for quite some time which seemed to be a little out of the ordinary, and if he hadn't known better he could have sworn that she was flirting, just a little. Tracy paused in the conversation and then said, "I'd really like to sit down for a minute since I've been on my feet all day, why don't we grab a Starbucks and you can tell me some more about the lake." A little taken aback, he nonetheless nodded in agreement and they moved quickly across the plaza to the coffee shop. They sat and talked for a long time in a wide-ranging conversation that covered everything from the lake property, work, children, free time and finally to spouses. He was a bit uncomfortable when she indicated that although she was in her second marriage it was for the long haul. Things had been a bit touchy and drab from time to time, and that she hinted that she might entertain a distraction other than time with her girlfriends. Not really knowing how to respond he moved the conversation gently back to his lake projects. Suddenly Tracy reached out and put her hand on his arm. "You know my parents had friends with a house that we used to go to on that lake, and Jeff and I have thought about buying something out there for a while. Off the water of course, waterfront is just too pricey for our little budget. I'd really like a couple hours break from the city, maybe just the drive and a chance to relax. Would you mind if I came out to see what's going on at the lake? Maybe for an hour or so tomorrow? The restaurant is closed for some light remodeling the next few days and I really don't have a thing to do." Dan 's head swam a little bit and his mind raced as he tried to think quickly if this was a good idea or not. On one hand all would appear to be completely innocent, and the neighbors were mostly "weekenders" so he wouldn't have to explain his visitor to anyone. On the other hand who knew what might happen. Even though that thought made him a bit nervous, at the same time he found the possibility exciting. After a moment he smiled at Tracy and said, "That'd be fine, come on out and unwind for a while. I'll even fix you one of my famous deli lunches. How about 11 o'clock. That'll give the dew time to dry and the day to start to warm up. Don't wear anything fancy, this is pretty casual. I might even have to put you to work for a while." He grinned at her and she smiled that killer smile of hers back. She told him, "Give me the directions and I'll be there. Don't worry about some chores; I have nothing against working up a good sweat under the right circumstances. It could be therapeutic." Her last comment could be taken several different ways, and Dan's head was still swimming as the parted and continued shopping. Now he figured she was about thirty minutes away and he went into the comfortable two-story house to get something to drink. At first he headed for the fridge and a Coke, then changed his mind and fixed a light vodka tonic. He thought to himself. "Nothing like a little distilled spirits at mid morning. What the hell, I'm screwing off anyways". He took a quick sip and glanced out the window just in time to see a late model compact car pull into the driveway. "Early", he thought to himself and quickly finished his drink, figuring that greeting her with a cocktail at 10:45 in the morning might be a bit awkward. He opened the front door and watched her walk up the sidewalk. She had on a light knit springtime vee-top with short sleeves. Her shorts were a loden green that showed off her slender, well shaped legs, stopping far above her knees. The leg openings were wide and bloused. Tracy's dark hair was pulled back tight into a small ponytail. All in all she was a delightful vision. They greeted each other with a friendly handclasp and Dan motioned her inside. "Oh dear, this is just wonderful," she said as she took a quick tour of the living room and the front part of the house. Dan had earlier opened the French doors, which let in a soft warm breeze. The lake glistened and a couple of fishing boats quietly circled. He took her arm and directed her out onto the large covered deck. They sat in the wicker furniture for nearly 30 minutes talking about nothing in particular, just enjoying the warm breeze. It was obvious to Dan that she was becoming very, very comfortable both with him and the surroundings. He grinned at her and said, "It's nearly noon, how 'bout a nice cold adult beverage to start the day?" She looked at him and bit her lip a bit and said nervously, "That sounds great, but if you don't mind, and I really mean don't mind, I'd like to smoke a joint instead." She looked at him as if anticipating a lecture on the evils of dope. He quickly grinned at her, reached down and took her hand pulling her to her feet. Still holding her hand he said, "Tracy, you can do anything you want. Anything at all. Just relax and enjoy the day. Pot doesn't bother me one bit, it's just not my thing. I'm a clear, distilled spirits kind of guy." She held onto his hand, laughed, and said," I'm going to take you at your word. Relaxation it is. First I need the ladies room, you fix yourself something to drink, and then we can go back outside and continue to enjoy the day." After pointing her down the hallway he quickly fixed a strong vodka tonic and sipped at it while he waited for her to return. In a few minutes she returned carrying her medium sized woven purse. She passed by him and set it down on the sofa. It was clear to Dan that she had removed her bra while in the bathroom. Very interesting, he thought to himself. Tracy bent over the couch and fumbled in her bag giving him a great view of her shorts creeping up her legs in back to the point that he could detect the start of the swell of her butt. Finally she found what she had been looking for and straightened up with a small metal box in one hand and a Bic lighter in the other. She smiled at him and said, "Sure this won't freak out any neighbors?" Dan laughed and said, "There aren't neighbors in the middle of the week to worry about. You can do whatever you want." She walked to the double doors, stopped and slipped off her open back canvas sandals. He watched her walk barefoot back on the deck and settle into the wicker sofa. Her feet and toes were long and slender. Her toes were nicely trimmed and coated with a pale polish. He was certainly glad that he had taken a few minutes to wash down the deck earlier. Dan had on some well-worn khaki shorts and knit shirt, his most comfortable clothing. He went back to the cushioned chair that he had been in earlier, kicked off his flip-flops and settled down. Tracy lit a medium sized joint and took a long drag while he watched. As she laid her head back and slowly exhaled, he took a sizeable drink of his tall vodka relishing the warm feeling as it made its way into his stomach. In the past few minutes he had lost any nervousness that he might have had about her being there. Looking over at Tracy he watched as she took another long draw. She was leaning against the back of the sofa with her leg crossed at the ankle across her knee. She closed her eyes as she slowly exhaled. Dan leaned back and looked at her legs. The opening of the leg of her shorts gave a view nearly to her waist. He felt his groin stir as he studied the view for a few moments. They started talking again about nothing in particular when Tracy gave a little start. Grinning, she said to him, "You've got a tattoo on your ankle, I didn't see that before." He grinned at her and said, "An impulsive birthday present to myself a few years ago." She looked back at him, raised her eyebrows, smiled and said, "Me too. Same thing, birthday deal. Wanna see it?" He grinned back at her and said,"Sure." "Come over here. Stand right there." She swiveled 90 degrees around on the sofa until her back was towards him. Then she pulled her top up slightly from the bottom with both hands and arched her back forward. Bending her back caused the top band of her shorts to gape open about 2 inches giving Dan a clear view straight down the back of her shorts. He felt himself catch his breath as he stared down past the 3 inch colorful butterfly tattoo to her perfectly rounded ass cheeks separated by the tiniest of thong strips on a pair of light pink thong panties. He stood still for a moment then swallowed deeply and said, "Nice, very nice, Tracy." He quickly moved back to his chair. Tracy turned back around giving him a huge smile. "Nice? I hope so, did you mean the tattoo or the 'view'?" If anything her smile grew bigger as he quickly sorted out what she had just said. He started to feel his inhibitions disappear. If he was right, it was starting to become clear what this day might bring. Or better yet, what it was going to bring. He looked at her and smiled back, "Well, the tattoo is a very nice work of man, but the view is a very nice work of the Lord." "Oh goodness," she gushed. "How instantly philosophical. I'm flattered if you think my nearly 40 year old butt still looks like a work of God." "Tracy, it looks like one of His finest efforts. Beautiful, nearly 40 or not." She picked up a half smoked joint from her tin and lit it. Looking at Dan she took a long drag and exhaled slowly. Dan lit a cigarette and they both sat in silence for several minutes smoking their personal preference. Dan finally stubbed out his smoke and Tracy left the remains of her second joint smoldering out when she gave him a mischievous grin, cocked an eyebrow and leaned closer to his chair. "About the 'view', if I told you that if you wanted to see it all, I mean everything, I wouldn't have a problem with that." Before he could answer she continued, "On the other hand before you answer that, consider that I'd ask for the same thing from you. Everything." Dan leaned back in his chair and grinned at her. Now this was getting interesting, he thought. "That could certainly be arranged. Sure that you don't have a problem with this? It could get a little 'carried away' for the rest of the day." Obviously a bit light-headed she grinned at him and said, "Well, that would be the point wouldn't it. I mean I just asked you if you wanted to get naked with me and I certainly don't have any intention of us just looking at each other. I can think of a WHOLE lot of fun things we can do, can't you?" Dan's cock started to stir in his pants as he picked up his drink and stood up. He stuck his hand out to her and she reached for his. She stood up and moved closer to him. Dan leaned towards her and said, "I think maybe we should go inside, don't you?" It was obvious that Tracy was a little stoned, but certainly not nervous. She pressed up against him and said, "That would be a very good idea. I hope you're not shy because I've been thinking of some naughty things to try ever since yesterday afternoon. Just one thing, we need to agree that this is just a naughty, private day between two adults and nothing more. It may never happen again, and then again it might." "Agreed." She rubbed her slender fingers against the front of his khakis tracing his growing erection. She boldly pressed the palm of her hand against the length of his penis and said, "Ummmm, okay, anything goes. I'm yours for the rest of day and we can do anything you want just as long as I get to play with this and these as much as I want." She giggled and gave his cock and his balls a soft squeeze through his pants. There was no doubt that she had lost any inhibitions, also that it was planned. Dan didn't bother to answer. He pulled her into the house, closed the French doors and dropped the translucent shades. The room was still fairly bright, just slightly muted. He took a sip of his drink and moved closer to her. He boldly slipped his free hand up underneath her top and cupped her bare breast. He could feel the nipple instantly get stiff as he ran his fingers over the sensitive skin. "Get naked for me, completely naked and then sit on the sofa and play with yourself for me while I get my clothes off. I want to see and touch and taste every inch of that cute little body of yours." His language and boldness surprised him. He thought, "what the hell she started it." Tracy felt herself tremble slightly with excitement, and then she moved over to the couch and sat down never taking her eyes off Dan. She grabbed the bottom of her top and quickly pulled it up and over her head. She tossed the top on the floor with one hand while she felt and played with each of her perky breasts with the other. She reached down to unsnap her shorts as Dan moved closer to her, watching her intently. He stood directly in front of her as she pushed her shorts down her legs and off her feet. Dan looked down and gazed at the impossibly small thong panties she still had on. She started to pull them down when stopped her. "Spread your legs for me. Let me see those little pink panties for a minute." She looked up at him and said, "I'm glad you like them. I bought them yesterday after we parted in the mall. It's the only pair that I have." She spread her pretty, bare feet apart and the two of them looked at her skimpy pantied crotch. There was a small dark spot on the front panel, positive proof that she was very aroused. He leaned over and traced his finger over the swell of her pubis, then across the darkening stain and down between her legs. He felt her shudder as his finger tickled her right up to the point where the thong started to slip into her crack for its trip up her backside. After a few seconds he slipped his finger from between her legs, then leaned over and put his hands on either side of her waist, slipping his fingers under the side strings of her thong. "I'm going to take your panties off myself while I watch you playing with your nipples. Raise your feet straight up so I can see the thong pull out of your cute little ass. Tracy groaned with unmasked delight as she did as told. She raised he legs straight into the air and played with her nipples, all the time watching Dan watch her. Quickly he slipped her tiny panties off her hips and up and over her knees. When he got to her ankles with the flimsy garment he stopped and leaned forward to take several of her damp, warm toes into his mouth. Tracy gasped a bit at this unexpected move and then felt a tingle as she watched Dan suck on her sweaty toes. She could see the sizeable bulge in the front of his shorts and silently wished he would finish stripping off her panties so that she could get hands and mouth on what promised to be a very adequate cock. He finally left her toes alone and pulled her panties over her feet. With her legs still in the air he held her by the ankles and spread her legs open about a foot and a half. The hair on her pussy had been carefully trimmed into just a tiny vee of dark brown hair above her clitoris. Her cunt lips were wet and shiny and the subtle smell of her arousal was unmistakable. Dan dropped her feet to the sofa cushion still spread apart. He dropped to his knees between her legs and she watched his eyes travel from her face down her body finally stopping at her exposed vagina. Tracy didn't need him to say a word as she moved her fingers between her legs and began to play with her pussy while he watched. Dan sat back on his heels and pulled his knit shirt up and off, throwing it into the corner where her top was laying. He leaned forward and took one of her hard nipples into his mouth sucking on it while she moaned and moved her hips in pace with her fingers. He moved to the other nipple and did the same. Tracy was panting softly as he moved back to his knees between her legs. He ran his strong hands inside both of her thighs caressing her soft skin close to where her fingers were busy. He looked down between her legs and then up at her and said, "You really aren't shy are you. I love to watch you do that. Oh fuck, your pussy smells so fucking good." "Oh Dan, I knew I'd love being naked with you. I'll finger fuck myself as much as you want and stay naked as long as you want. I love it when you look at me and touch and suck on me. I thought all night about having a completely wild afternoon with you. Like I said, anything goes." He moved closer to her and dipped his head until his face was right above her pussy. He took one of her fingers from inside of her cunt and sucked the digit into his mouth. He sucked her finger clean of her juices the sat back and looked at her. "I want to see your ass, Tracy. Pull your legs back and spread your backside." The crudity of his words surprised him a bit and he felt himself redden after he said it. Tracy was too charged up to be offended by anything he did or said, and she quickly pulled her legs back to her chest, then reached down with both hands and eagerly spread her ass wide open in front of him. "Oh God, Dan, please tell me you like it. Tell me if you like me to spread my ass for you to look at. I don't mind, you can look at my asshole as much as you want. I love it." He moved closer and stared at her spread crack. Maybe she would do anything he told her to, he thought. In any case this sure was a dandy start. She was literally begging him to make her his total sex toy for the day. He looked at her tight little pucker then took his index finger to softly feel it for several seconds. It was a brownish pink and perfectly star shaped. On an impulse he leaned in and swiped the flat of his tongue over her musty rosebud several times. Tracy's hips lurched when she felt his tongue lick her ass the first time, then on the third pass she settled into a soft swoon as he continued to lap at her sphincter. Tracy was rotating her hips as he licked her when a jolt ran through her. Dan had stiffened his tongue and shoved the tip of it into her ass. He backed out and then shoved it in deeper, finally it was in as deep as he could go and he was swirling his tongue around the edges of her expanding opening. Her ass had a musty but clean taste. To Dan the light sweaty smell was as good as the taste Tracy was panting, bucking and sweating when he finally pulled his face from her ass. Her underarms were soaked and her skin was flushed crimson. Sweat beads covered her forehead. Oh fuck, she thought to herself, we've only been at this for a half hour and I can hardly breathe. Shit, she hadn't even gotten his pants off yet. That was about to change. Dan hovered over her and said, "Did you like that, young lady?" "Oh fuck yes. I like the ass thing, but I sure never had it as intense as that." "I'm glad you liked it. There'll be a lot more of everything to come. You look like you could use a cold drink. How about I fix you a nice vodka tonic before I take my pants off and then see how talented you really are?" Tracy wiped her forehead and smiled at him. "Sure, fix me a nice big and strong one. Then get over here so we can get those pants off and I can show you what I've been fantasizing about since yesterday. You need to know, I'm VERY oral and there isn't anything I don't like to do with my tongue. Now hurry up, I'm dying for a long taste of your cock and everything else." He moved quickly to the counter and started fixing her a drink. He quickly opened a cabinet and took a familiar blue pill from a pharmacy vial. He swallowed it quickly hoping it would do the job for the next few hours. His cock was already painfully hard, but at his age that could change quickly. The pills had always been quite effective in slowing that done for sure. He returned to the living room a few minutes later with a strong, cold drink for her. He handed her the glass while admiring her naked body, then backed up a few steps and in one slick motion pushed his shorts and boxers to the floor. He took two steps back towards her as she watched him move closer. His cock was about 6 inches long and sticking straight out from his groin. His balls were the size of overly fat plums and hung neatly below his throbbing penis. She stared at his cock and balls as he moved up to the front of the couch, then she motioned for him get on the sofa with her. Dan got on the couch then kneeled on either side of her bare hips and gripped the middle of his cock shaft with one hand and caressed the side of her face with the other. He smiled at her and she smiled back. Dan softly nudged her head forward as he pointed the precum slick head of his cock at her lips. She opened her mouth and wiggled her tongue invitingly as he leaned forward. "Let me watch you suck my cock for a while." Tracy needed absolutely no coaxing. She had been waiting for that moment since the day before. She quickly opened her mouth and sucked the head of his cock in while her tongue swirled around it. She could smell the strong masculine aroma of his groin, particularly from his balls that had gotten warm and sweaty during his morning tasks. Dan watched her warm mouth close around his cockhead and groaned aloud with pleasure as her tongue licked the flared head that was already leaking juices from his balls. After a few minutes she pulled her mouth of his cock and ran her fingers up and down the now saliva slickened shaft. Holding his cock straight up she bent to his balls and inhaled. The pungent male smell was something she loved and it made her even more lightheaded for a moment. She began to carefully tongue the sweaty skin covering his testicles savoring the tart taste. He watched her tongue slowly bathe and then gently suck on his balls as he played with her breasts. After a few heavenly minutes she took the tip of his cock back into her mouth and suckled softly on it. She took it out after a few moments and looked at him with one of her trademark big smiles. "Why don't you move over to the chair you were in so that I can really get down between your legs and make you feel REAL good while we decide where we are going to put this beautiful cock next." Dan quickly pushed himself up off the sofa and they stood completely naked together while she eyed him up and down paying special attention to his glistening cock. His mind was thinking about what she had just said about deciding where his cock was going to go next. It already had been in her mouth so that left only two possibilities, one of which he hadn't even considered as an option until seconds ago. His mind raced with the possibility that if he wanted to he could ass fuck Tracy, and she would be willing and obviously eager to have him do that. He let out a deep sigh, his cock still rigid as he considered the options. After a few moments Tracy stood up and slipped both her hands in between his legs cupping and playing with his wet ball sacks. "Come on hon, back up and sit in your chair. I'm getting lonely without something in my mouth." He wrapped his arms around her and whispered to her, "O.K., I wouldn't want to deprive you of anything that you wanted to put in your mouth." They both laughed as ran his hands down her bare back, over her hips and onto the firm smoothness of her butt checks. He caressed them and tickled deep in her asscrack for a few seconds before he backed up and sat in the chair. Tracy quickly grabbed a large throw pillow from the sofa and placed it on the floor between his legs. She grinned at him and said, "I intend to spend a lot of time on my knees with my face between your legs and I do not want to have red, chafed kneecaps to explain later." He smiled back at her as she pushed his legs as far apart as she could. He looked down as she began to play with, and softly stroke his penis. "No, we certainly wouldn't want that. I don't think anyone would believe a skateboarding accident either." Suppressing a giggle she swallowed his rigid shaft to the mid point and began to suck it. She swirled her tongue up to the top and played with and poked it into his pisshole lapping up the cum drooling out. She backed away for a moment and put her hands under the back of Dan's knees. Pushing up and back she hooked his legs over the arms of the chair and then pulled him forward a little bit. He leaned back and rested his head on the cushion back. His balls and ass were pointing towards the ceiling when he felt her warm breath waft over his swollen nuts. She looked up at him and said; "Now you'll see what an eager tongue can do. I hope you don't mind a little dirty talk to go along." Stroking his cock she attacked his balls with her mouth and talented tongue. Dan thought he would pass out as long wet tongue licked, sucked and played with his hairy nuts. There was no doubt that she obviously loved doing that. "Oh God, Dan. I love the way your balls smell and taste. Oh fuck, they're so hot, smelly and sweaty that I could lick and suck on them all day. How's that for naughty?" Dan's eyes rolled back in his head as her mouth and tongue seemed to be all over his cock and balls at the same time. After what seemed like an hour, but closer to five minutes he felt her long fingers wrap around his balls and roll them gently in his scrotum. In a second he felt her warm breath on his bare feet and then just as quickly her mouth closed around his toes. She spent what seemed like a long time on each foot, licking and sucking his sweaty toes. Suddenly her mouth was gone from his feet and he felt her hands under his knees again. Just like before she pushed up and pulled back on his legs. Dan grabbed the shaft of his cock as he prepared for another heavenly attack on his balls with her talented tongue. Before he realized it her hands were on his ass cheeks spreading them apart and in an instant Tracy's face plunged into his sweaty crack. He gasped for breath as her tongue darted out and started licking and probing his musty asshole and the skin around it. Suddenly she backed out and took a deep breath and then dove back in rimming and eating his ass with even more vigor. After a minute Tracy backed out and caught her breath. She looked up at him and watched him stroke his cock. "Do you like that honey? Do you like my tongue in your asshole? I thought your balls were the best, but your ass is even better. Oh fuck, I love the smell and taste of your hot little pooper. Lean back as far as you can so I can get my tongue deep in your asshole, then hold my head in your butt until you get tired of me eating your ass. Talk as dirty as you want to me because that's what I'm going to do. Tell me all the nasty things you want me to do. I told you we were going to get very naughty." He squirmed and moaned with pleasure as her tongue slipped deep back into his rectum and then back out. Then she would tickle his sphincter with her tongue before slipping it back into his ass and Frenching his tangy ass. He reached down and held the back of her head as she made oral love to his asshole. Dan moaned aloud and then said to her,"God, Tracy you are such a wonderful nasty little thing. I love your tongue deep in my asshole and all over my balls. I want to fuck you in the pussy and in the ass this afternoon. I want you to jack me off in your mouth and all over your pretty face after you've licked my cock clean of your pussy and ass juices. I want you to always have my cock or balls in your hands so I can watch you play with them all day." He could feel her shake her head in agreement and moan at every nasty suggestion. He paused for a moment then went on. "This is really naughty, Tracy.What if I wanted to piss on your pussy and ass later? Would it turn you on to feel it all hot and smelly spraying on your tits and pussy? How about if you piss on my balls and asshole then lick them clean?" She pulled her tongue and face out of his hairy butt and groaned loud enough for the neighbors to hear had there been any home, "Oh fuck yes! I'd love that. I want you to piss on me as much as you want. I'd love to suck my own smelly piss off your balls and asshole; I even want you to piss in my mouth. But right now I think it's time for you to stick that beautiful hard cock in my ass and fuck me. Fuck my asshole until you're ready to cum and then cum in my mouth and all over my face. I haven't had a cock in my ass since college and I want you deep in my ass right now." Dan caught his breath as his mind raced realizing that on any terms this had turned into something far more than certainly he, and perhaps either of them had expected. She gave his ass a long lingering lick; them moved to his balls and finally licked her way up his cock. She looked at him with heavily lidded eyes and said, "Stay right there, I need to get something." Tracy quickly stood up and walked to the sofa and bent over giving him another great view of her ass while she rummaged in her purse. In a moment she was back with a small tube. She bent over and whispered in his ear, "Lets trade places, but first why don't you get a towel to cover the cushion". He stood up and started for the linen closet when she looked at him again, and bit her lip a little. "Oh oh", he thought, "She's changed her mind". She moved closer to him then softly stroked his rigid penis, and leaned close to his ear again, "Do you have a digital camera here?" He nodded affirmatively. "Do you want to use it? It'll be just for us, but only if you want to." He nodded again as he felt his heart pound. "Good. Get them both." In less than a minute he returned with a small hand towel and the camera, his cock still bouncing in front of him. She took the towel and laid it on the seat cushion then leaned over to sit down in the chair. As she sat down she captured the head of his cock in her mouth again and gave it a lingering suck. She never seemed to get enough of it, and Dan groaned as she finally released him and sat back in the chair. With practiced ease she spread her legs wide, put her feet on the top of arms of the chair then slid down a ways. Leaning back she reached down and spread her ass as far as she could. Tracy handed him the small tube, smiled at him and said, "I think you know what to do." Dan quickly dropped to his knees and opened the tube. He squeezed a dollop of the clear gel onto his first two fingers and smeared it gently on the pucker of her asshole. After a few seconds he put some more on his middle finger and slowly pushed his finger past the rim of her sphincter into the warmth of her ass, stopping at the first knuckle. Tracy moaned with obvious pleasure. He smeared the gel just inside her ass rim for a few seconds the pulled his finger out. Her pinkish brown asshole gleamed at him. Tracy took the tube from his hand and pulled his cock towards her. She grinned at him as she smeared a small dab of the gel all over the head of his cock, and then set the tube down on an end table. She gently squeezed his balls and said, "Now put that beautiful cock in my naughty little asshole and fuck me. I want to feel your cock balls deep in my ass, fucking my asshole until you're ready to come." Dan caught his breath and leaned over guiding the head of his cock against the pucker of her asshole. He pushed forward a bit and felt it slip easily into her. Tracy let out a small groan, grabbed the camera off the table and leaned forward to watch his cock go into her ass. Dan pushed forward again and felt the rim of her sphincter clamp around the head and then the shaft of his cock as he slipped further into her warm ass. She moaned as he continued to slide into her rectum, "Oh God, that feels so fucking good! Oh yes. Hold it right there for a minute then fuck me deep in my ass." He stopped pushing for a minute and watched as she leaned further towards him and took a picture of his cock a third of the way in her ass. She put the camera down and leaned back in the raising her arms over her head. "O.K., now shove it all the way in my ass and fuck me for as long as you can." He pushed forward and felt his cock slip easily pass the tightness of her hole until the entire length was buried in her rear opening. At that point he rocked back and forth slowly, fucking his cock in and out of her ass. Dan looked down at her as she tossed her head from side to side with pleasure, her arms still raised. The sides of her body glistened with sweat running from under her arms giving off a wonderful musty, sexy animal like smell. The combined smells of their warm bodies and body parts began to fill the small room. The heated aroma was not unnoticed by Tracy. She reached down between their coupled bodies and played with her pussy, then his slick cock as it slid in and out of her ass, and finally dangling balls. He let out a loud groan when she reached all the way behind his nuts and played with his wet asshole. She looked up at him and smiled through heavy lidded eyes, "God I hope you don't mind how sweaty I'm getting. I didn't mean to smell up your house when all I really wanted was a great fuck. Which, by the way I am getting right now. God, I hope you don't mind a little girl stink" Dan shoved his cock back deep into her ass and grinned at when she let out a loud moan of pleasure. He looked at her and said, "Honey we've had our faces in each others asses and everyplace else, I'm certainly not bothered by the wonderful smell of your sweaty body." He laughed again and said, " I hope you don't wash it all day and we can get stinky together. Just to prove it, after I'm done fucking your beautiful ass I'm going to lick it and everything else until you tell me to stop." She wiped her hands on her face inhaling the odors from her trip between their bodies. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him deep into her. At that point Dan picked up his pace and began to push in and out of her ass quicker and quicker. He felt her quiver and it was obvious that she was having an orgasm. After another minute or two he slowed down and gasped. "Tracy, I'm going to cum soon!" Tracy gasped herself then said,"Okay, okay you know what I want! I want you to come in my mouth and on my face. Pull your cock out so I can get it in my mouth and jack you off." She caught her breath, and pushed urgently against his wet chest. Dan leaned back and let his stiff cock slip quickly out of her ass. He looked down as the head of his dick finally slipped out of her. As soon as it cleared the rim of her ass it sprung straight up in the air. "Wow", Dan thought to himself as he stared at his cock. Tracy pulled her legs from the arms of chair. She placed one foot on the floor and curled the other underneath her. Leaning forward she put her hands on Dan's hips and pulled him towards her. With one hand she cuddled his balls, with the other she grabbed the center of his oily shaft. She slid her hand up and down the veiny slick skin as leaned forward and took the first inch or two of his rock hard cock into her mouth. She pumped faster as she sucked and licked on his greasy cock. She surprised herself by not minding the taste. From both the taste and smell it was obvious where his cock had just been, but it wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it might be. She couldn't believe how anxious she was to taste the juice from his balls. She had never been quite like that, but right now it was all she could think of. Tracy closed her lips tightly right under the flared head of his cock and licked it with all her energy. She pumped his slick shaft with longer strokes sucking on the head of his penis until she felt Dan's legs tense and heard him groan. She could feel his shaft pulse as her mouth started to fill with his warm ejaculate. After two large spurts she pulled his cock out of her mouth and pumped the rest of his hot cum all over her face and breasts. She didn't think it would ever stop and neither did Dan. After several seconds it finally slowed to a dribble. She leaned forward and sucked the last sticky remains dripping from his pisshole as he twitched from the ultra sensitive feeling. Leaning forward she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his sweaty chest as they both struggled to catch their breath. She could sense the bleachy taste of his cum in her mouth and found it certainly not repulsive. What Dan would never know was that it was the first time she had ever let someone cum in her mouth. Ever. Comments? Paste the following link in your browser to make coments http://www1.asstr.org/cgi-bin/ah_feedback.cgi?id=EMYZLQCDDZHPFUJHOKUK

Karie She wasn't very tall or leggy like I usually like em' but she was gorgeous and well built. She looked so innocent and waif like. Big, big brown eyes and very long dark brown hair, hair clear to her waist, pale creamy skin and she looked so...innocent! Only about five foot-three, a nice round little ass and a good handful of tits, I wanted to see her ass and tits up close in the worst way! I wanted to see that long beautiful hair fanned out on the bed with her naked and spread out for me! I had been following her for weeks. I wanted fresh meat. This one was special, I needed a little extra time with her and I wanted it very private. Time and patience finally began paying off. This was the night! I had parked the van up on a wooded hillside and cranked my digital snooper up to see if she was home alone. I had broken into her bedroom and planted it weeks earlier. I still have her pale blue lace panties, the ones I picked up off her bedroom floor! I couldn't just pay her a visit when her folks were out of the house, I had to know they would not be coming home soon. At 17, Karie was the youngest of 4 siblings, all the others had moved from the house, only her sister, Anne, still lived in town. Anne was 23 and looked a bit like Karie, a little plump, but still a doll. I had eavesdropped through the bug several nights ago as Karie talked to a girl friend. "My folks are going to England for vacation," Karie gushed to Shari. "They are going to be gone a month to visit my mother's folks and relatives, my step dad is really looking forward to seeing England. I get to stay home alone. Anne will check in on me to see if I need anything, this is going to be a fun month!" "Yes, it sure will be" I had muttered to myself, upon hearing that conversation, finally, all the patience in following this beautiful little cunt, the time, expense and danger in bugging her house and putting cams in her bedroom was about to pay off! I glanced up at the van wall at some of the shots I had gotten through the cams. My favorite was Karie in a little green nightgown lying on her back, legs spread, knees pulled up. She had pulled the crotch of her panties aside and spread her juicy pussy lips with her fingers. I had watched, fascinated as she slid wet fingers up and down her glistening pink slit with one hand while playing with an apple sized tit with the other. I got a dozen stills of her while she strummed on her hard little clit. I had to remember to retrieve the miniature remote cameras with me when I was finished with her tonight. But, first I would set the software up so I could take remote controlled photos of the sessions I had planned for her. I watched the screen as she came out of the bathroom, she dried her hot damp body off with a large towel, then walked to the closet. I almost came in my pants as I watched her round naked little ass stick out of the far edge of the cam frame. She was bent over into the closet rummaging around for something, I could see the fringe of brown pussy hair with a little pink lip peeking out from under that gorgeous little ass as she looked for something that was out of sight. Karie was feeling naughty! She had slipped out of school for an afternoon of shopping, now she wanted try her purchase on. "I bet this gives Jerry an instant hard on," she said out loud to herself. Reaching under her backpack she pulled out a package. Looking around her room guiltily, she placed the package on her bed. Quickly she looked out the bedroom window to make sure Anne wasn't going to surprise her. Nobody was in the driveway. She opened up the package and pulled out a wispy little nightgown. This little number was really sexy. She put it on and ran to the mirror. "Whoa, looks like I'm naked," she said out loud. Everything showed, the rich brown triangle hiding her cunt and her dark red nipples showed clearly. The dark thick bush bothered her, she wanted her cunt ready for action when Jerry finally realized she wanted him to fuck her. The bush had to go! Karie grabbed a pair of scissors and sat on he damp towel spread out on her bed. Carefully, she pulled up her nightgown and began to trim the dark curls. Soon she had the triangle trimmed back to a very slight brown oval leading down to her now stubbly vertical slit. Quickly, she jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I could see her in the full-length mirror mounted on the open bathroom door. She ran a washcloth under warm water and began to wash her cunt. When she had it dripping wet, she raised one foot and placed it on the lowered toilet seat. Reaching over to the counter, she picked up a can of shaving cream and shot a white glob into her hand. After applying the cream to the stubble around her cunt, she slowly began to shave. Her plump pussy lips pouted back at her from across the room in her mirror, a glimmer of wet pink glistened between them. Karie lay back and stroked the slick, puffy, engorged lips with a gentle touch. She thought of Jerry, the guy she had a crush on, as her fingertip drifted gently up and down her moist slit. Slowly, as her knees pulled up and back, she spread her wet pink folds apart with thumb and forefinger and inserted a finger into her slick hot vagina. For five minutes she teased her clit by gently rubbing it then she would drift the wet fingertip to the tight wet hole below and teasingly begin to fuck herself by inserting a little of the finger at a time. "Ohhhhh, ohhhh, a need it, I need a cock, I want one in me so bad," she moaned to herself. She reached over to the bag and pulled out a package. In a hurry, she fumbled as she tried to unwrap the brown parcel, finally ripping the paper, she reached in and pulled out a dildo. She had mail ordered it! It came as promised in a plain brown wrapped package. She had never dared to use it with her folks in the house. Quickly she twisted the end of the 4 inch cock-like device and smiled as it began to vibrate. Laying back again, she held the vibrating artificial cock to her wet opening and began to run it up and down her gaping pink gash. Oh, she wanted a cock so bad. When her girlfriends at school talked about sex she would get all hot and bothered. Her cunt would get warm, then wet. A couple of times she had to go to the girls room and get herself off behind the locked door of a stall. She would take a damp rag with her and wash her gushing cunt when she was through strumming her clit and teasing her virgin hole. She sometimes got so hot just thinking about sex she could actually smell her juices in her damp panties and was afraid those around her could too. If only the right time and circumstance would present itself, she had to get laid, she wanted a cock, a real stiff, hot, throbbing cock to satisfy her almost unbearable urge to spread her legs and fuck like a lust crazed whore! Watching in the darkened van, taping her nasty fuck play, I slowly ran my hand up and down my stiff cock while watching Karie tease herself with the vibrating toy. I listened and watched as she brought herself off. "Tonight, my little beauty, you get your wish." It was almost too easy. I slowly twisted the back door knob to keep it from rattling, shoved the knife blade into the latch and pried gently until I heard a soft click. Slowly I pushed the door open enough to slither through. Without a whisper of noise I glided up the carpeted stairs to her room. This was my third trip to Karie's room, this time she was going to know I was there. It was 2 a.m. and the whole distant neighborhood was soundly sleeping, not a bit of traffic traveled the dark deserted streets. Karie was dreaming of Jerry, he was kneeling over her outspread legs, his cock jutting out in front of his belly, smiling down at her. "Fuck me, fuck me, give it to me, please, put it in," she moaned to him. At 17, she was still definitely not wanting to be a virgin anymore. Listening to her girlfriends talk about how good sex was really got to her. Several of them told Karie that getting their cherry popped was the best move they ever made. Now they could have their pick of the studs in their high school, the neighboring high schools and the state college. Her friend Shari even told Karie that she had once gotten blind drunk and fucked 3 boys at one time! Karie's nightly dreams were becoming increasingly sexual. She woke up every morning with a damp pussy, her lips puffy from the stroking and pinching she inflicted on herself nightly. She needed to lose her cherry! "Ohhh, uhhh, ahhhh," Karie was moaning in her sleep, blankets kicked down to the bottom of the bed, her hand was under her night gown as she dreamily stroking her damp slit. I watched her for several minutes as I slowly pulled down the window shade and slid the heavy drapes shut. The road the van was parked on was fifty yards distant and the nearest point to the house, but I wanted to keep the noise in the room and any casual passer by from hearing little Karie getting her wish! I wasn't worried a lot about the noise, her nearest neighbors were over one hundred yards down the road. I sat my bag by her bed and reached for her lovely little tits. "WHAAA," Karie yelped. A hand had grasped her breast and painfully twisted it. She set up quickly, still half asleep. Her nightlight dimly lit the room. Why wasn't the streetlight shining through her window? How come the drapes were pulled shut? Fear overwhelmed her as she realized the dark form in front of her was a person, a person with her right breast painfully in their grasp! She tried to get up out of bed. "Ouch," she yelped as a hand slapped her painfully in the face. "Who are you, what do you want?" "Shut up bitch, I want your pussy, your mouth and your tight little asshole," I answered her. "Nuhh, NO, GET OUT," she yelled. I quickly shoved her back on the bed and showed her the knife. She could see the wicked glimmer in the dimly lit room, see enough to recognize a shiny 6 inch knife blade! I spun around, walked to the closet, reaching up I jerked the string leading to the light bulb. Light flooded the closet and lit her room up just enough to see. She lay quivering with fear, nipples and cunt showing through her sexy new nightgown, her eyes sliding to the telephone on her nightstand. Before she could move, I grabbed the phone, unplugged it and set it on her dresser. "Please, get out, please, I'm scared," she begged as tears coursed down her face. I felt my cock spasm, I almost blew a load right on the spot. "Here's the deal little lady, you are going to give me a one word answer to a three part question. I'm going to ask the question and you can only give these three words as answers!" Eyes wide with fear, a tremor in her voice, she asked, "What's the question?" "First, I'll give you the correct answers," I told her. "Do you want it in your mouth, pussy, or ass?" She recoiled back against the headboard, shock on her face, mouth hanging open. She was shocked back to reality. Rape! I could see this on her face, the reality of the situation was almost as satisfying as that first moment when a beautiful woman is forced to kneel and you feel her hot, unwilling mouth surround your throbbing cock. I squeezed down hard on the firm apple sized tit. "No, nooo, please, ouch, ouch, stop, please stop squeezing," she begged, I pinched her nipple through the transparent fabric and pulled it towards me roughly, "answer now," I thundered at her."Mmmm, mou, mou, mouth," she stammered. "Get up on your knees,suck me off right now," I told her, "I wouldn't last two strokes in your pussy or your ass anyway!" Karie was almost paralyzed with fear. This was a nightmare. She could not believe this was happening. She lay back, shaking her head, telling herself this was not real, that she was asleep. The masked man suddenly grabbed her sexy new nightgown and ripped it down the front. She was now falling back with the brand new gown shredded. "I can smell your cunt Karie," I told her. "How do you know my name?" "I know lots about you bitch, look at this," I reached into the bag at my feet and tossed a large envelope at her. Shakily, she opened the top and spilled out a couple dozen photos. They were all 8 x 10, in color. Most of them were of her, right here in her own bed, legs spread while she finger fucked herself. She recognized one of her at a football game, Jerry was kissing her, his hand on her round little ass, squeezing it. With a start, she realized I had been stalking her for weeks. How did he get pictures of her in her own bedroom? "You bastard, you better leave, my folks will." "be home in a month," I finished for her. "If your sister comes over while I'm here, I'm going to fuck her too." She lay there staring at him, he knew everything about her, even had photos of her most intimate moments in her own bedroom. Who was he? "Stand up, NOW," I barked. Quickly, she leaped from the bed, stood there hating herself for obeying, shaking as sheimagined what he was going to do to her. "Get the rag off, strip naked and keep you cunt mouth shut," I ordered her. She shrugged the torn garment off and stood shaking with fear. Horrified, she heard him order her to turn around and bend over. "Now, turn around, bend over, hands on the bed," I ordered. Slowly, she obeyed. "Spread your legs, reach back and spread your cheeks, get that face down on the pillows," I hissed. Horrified, she spread her legs and then her ass cheeks, showed me her damp pink slit and her pink and brown ringed anus, her most intimate places. Tears ran as she stood there bent over, showing me what I wanted to see. "Stand up, turn around, get down on your knees," I ordered. Shakily, she complied, kneeling in front of the terrifying nightmare that had invaded her room and life! I looked down at her, relished the control I had established so quickly and decided it was time to cum in her for the first time. "Unzip my pants, NOW," I barked. Without thinking, her hand quickly went to my zipper. She hesitated then. "Unzip," I barked. Quickly she unzipped my pants. "Pull my cock out, NOW." Quickly, she reached into my pants and grasped the hot, hard cock waiting for her there. She tugged on it and it popped out right into her face! "No, please, don't do this," she begged. I grabbed her by the hair and jerked her to my throbbing cock. She inhaled sharply to scream, then suddenly cringed, the knife was there. It's cold surface on her right breast, then tracing an icy metal path to her face. "I will cut your tits and face up until they look like road kill if you don't open you mouth and start sucking," I whispered to her. With icy fear in her brain and revulsion in her stomach, her soft, plump lips parted and slowly, reluctantly began to slide over the head of the throbbing, jerking cock! "Yes, oh yes, get that hot little mouth over my cock." Her lips and tongue were red hot, so soft, so moist. I shoved my cock forward and felt it hit the back of her throat. "Start sucking, suck, lick and fuck my cock with your mouth, pretend it's your hot little cunt," I told the dazed young beauty. Pretend my cock is your dildo and your mouth is your cunt, suck on my cock just like your cunt sucked on your little toy earlier tonight," I ordered. "Faster, deeper, no teeth, suck, suck harder," I demanded. "Get deeper, suck, faster, faster," I snarled as I pumped into the kneeling girls beautiful tear streaked face. I looked down and watched the struggling young bitch's pursed lips sliding up and down my cock. My nuts were boiling. I knew this would be a one-minute blowjob. I couldn't possibly hold back. I glanced to the right and saw us in her full-length mirror, her with her hands on my ass trying to steady herself, my cock appearing and disappearing into the plump red lips of the terrified teen. I pulled her tighter against my cock, forced it into her throat. She began to gag as I stood frozen, my cock stuck full length into her face and down her tight hot throat. My nuts contracted and fired a hot, sticky, salty load into her tight throat. Karie was terrified. She thought he was going to choke her to death with his cock. So this was a blowjob? The large knob on the end of his cock kept trying to pop into her throat. She did everything he ordered her to do to keep from making him mad or hurting her. She licked and sucked the awful oral invader, she laved the slick rod with her lips and tongue, sucking and pulling with her lips while trying to keep her teeth out of the way. But, it kept going so deep and choking her! With a sudden shock, she realized he had just told her to use her mouth on his cock just like she had her dildo on her pussy earlier! How long had he been watching her, what exactly had he photographed? Her mind was as full of dread and fear as her mouth was of cock! Suddenly he pulled hard on her hair and his cock rammed down her throat. She gagged and choked, tried to pull back. She could feel the cock head glide up and down her throat, her ears were ringing, she knew she was going to pass out. Then, suddenly, the cock pulled out of her throat and air flooded her lungs. A gob of something thick and slightly salty splattered into her mouth, then the cock rammed into her throat again. She could feel the purplish knob expand and contract as it spit something thick and creamy into her. She could feel liquid jetting down her throat. Again, he pulled it out and let her breathe. She sucked in air and began to swallow to get her throat open. As she breathed and swallowed, she realized, with a shock, he was pumping semen into her mouth. Not wanting the cock into her throat again, she began to suck and swallow harder, hoping this was what he wanted. She could her the "slurp, slurp, gulp" noises of her sucking, swallowing mouth working to keep up with the creamy substance jetting from the end of his cock. Yes Karie, yes, that's it, keep sucking, swallow, suck, swallow," I crooned to her. As quickly as it started, the rape of her mouth and throat was over. Slowly, I pulled my softening cock from the gagging girl's mouth. She watched as I slid it back out through her lips. Her mouth opened a little wider as I pulled my plum sized cock head out of her lips. Slowly, I reached down and turned her face towards the mirror. She could see a white string of cum hanging off her lips. "Suck it in, lick it up," I ordered. She watched herself in the mirror as her tongue reached out and licked the sticky strings into her mouth. "Clean it up," I ordered as I shoved my semi-hard rod back to her lips. I watched in fascination as she watched herself in the mirror licking the remaining strings of cum from the end of my cock. She gently sucked on the end of my dick with her bruised lips, like she was drinking from a straw, as she sucked up the last of the sticky load oozing from the slit in my shiny purplish knob. "Get up," I ordered. Fearfully, she staggered to her feet. "Kiss me, I ordered. "Do it right, use your tongue." Slowly, she raised her lips to mine, kissed my mouth, slipped her tongue between my lips. I returned the kiss. Her mouth was clean, she had swallowed my whole load. She felt one of his hands between her legs, probing her slit. Another hand was at her breast, massaging, kneading gently. He leaned into her and returned the kiss with more zest. His hand left her breast and went behind her head, pulling her into him. For several minutes, they stood, tongues combating, a finger slowly entering her virgin vaginal opening. Karie was terrified. She stood, kissing the man who just raped her mouth and throat, he was forcing her to kiss him, forcing her to use her tongue and lips on his mouth as he was slowly inserting a finger into her pussy. She squatted slightly, tried to spread open her thighs to make the probing less painful. She cringed and flinched, as she suddenly remembered the only time she had allowed a boy to finger fuck her. He had pull the crotch of her panties aside and quickly went straight to her opening. Without any foreplay, he had drilled his dry finger into her tight opening, forcing himself into her up to the first knuckle. Kerry had quickly jerked his hand out of her panties and chewed him out for not being gentle. If he hadn't been in such a rush and so insensitive, she may have let him fuck her that night! I felt her squat and spread as I shoved my finger in all the way. She hissed in pain and rose to her tiptoes. I began to finger fuck her painfully and kiss her brutally. "Nooo, please, mmmph, NO." She tried to back away. I pulled my finger out of her pussy, stepped back and raised the glistening finger to my nose. "Ohh, yes, nice cunt, nice cunt, this is going to be very, very nice," I whispered to her. I held the wet finger under her nose, "smell your pussy Karie, smell this and taste it, open your mouth and lick my finger clean!" I ordered. "Lick it clean, practice on my finger because you're going to clean my cock after I fuck you." "Lay down, on your back, spread your legs, knees up to your tits," I commanded. Terrified, she fell to her back and scooted to the middle of the bed. "No, no, no, not this way," she said to herself. She flinched when he dropped to his knees by the bed. His head quickly disappeared between her legs as an electric shock coursed though her body. He was licking her pussy! "NOOO, stop, please, no, stop," she moaned. He began to lick her slit full length, even dipping lower and tonguing her anus. She felt him probe her vaginal opening with the tip of his tongue, he licked her labia and began to flick her clit gently with the tip of his tongue. He started all over again, licking her ass, trying to probe it with his tongue, licking her inner lips, licking, licking, lapping and slurping her juices. She suddenly realized she was raising her ass to meet his tongue. "No, no, please stop, I can't do this," she sobbed. Laughing, I raised up to look at her through her wide spread legs. "Push up, give me that little cunt, shove it up to my mouth," I commanded. Slowly, she raised her hips while my mouth lowered to her shiny wet cunt. The electric shock surged through her again as he continued to lick her pussy. She rapidly pushed her hips up and down as he licked furiously at her dripping gash. Shamefully, she turned her head to the mirror to watch him rape her with his mouth. She watched as he inserted a finger into her pussy and began to finger fuck her again while licking and drinking her juices. She watched fascinated and repulsed at the same time. Then she realized was humping up and down as his finger got her into a rhythm. "NAAHHH," she suddenly shrieked. He had slowly shoved a finger into her ass. His tongue was still licking and probing, now she had a finger in her pussy and one in her ass. Her pussy was so hot was flooding her whole crotch. She tried desperately to scoot back. He held her thigh with his left hand and fingered both holes at once with the index and middle finger of his right hand while licking her clit. I raised my head and looked at her, "pussy or asshole?" I asked. "Wha, wha, what," she stammered. "Pussy or asshole?" I demanded. Shocked, she realized his tongue had nearly driven her to a climax. In the distance, she heard her voice, tiny and afraid as she answered, "pussy." He quickly dipped his head between her thighs and began to lap at her gaping cunt again. "NOOOOOOOO," it was to late. She felt all quivery and shaky inside, she was going to climax. She squeezed his head in her thighs when she felt it happening. He had leaped to his feet and fell upon her. Before she could resist, he had shoved his cock up into her vaginal opening just after the gigantic climax blasted through her entire body. "Look at me," I commanded. Slowly, she opened her eyes. "I'm going to fuck you, right now. Fight me and I will hurt you, cooperate, fuck me, give up that pussy, and I will make you feel good, got it?" I asked.Slowly she nodded her head, still not over the climax that had shaken her to the core. UHHHH, she gasped as she felt his rubbery cock head spread her lips and travel up her an inch, he was firmly lodged in her opening. She was so wet she couldn't possibly stop the advance, but she squeezed down trying to block his entrance anyway. "Watch my face," I commanded. "OHH," she moaned as I advanced another inch. "Watch," I ordered again. She stared at his hovering face as he slowly inserted his cock into her wet channel. "Ouch," she gasped as he hit her maidenhead. "Push up," he ordered. Slowly she raised her hips as he firmly pushed down. "AAAHHHH," she cried as her barrier ripped open and he plunged inside her searing tunnel clear up to his balls. "ow, ow, ow, ow,"she sobbed. He held still for a few seconds, slowly began to pull back. "Ouch," she cried out. "Ouch," again as he pushed in again. He began to fuck in and out of her tender cunt. She cried out at each pull and push while she unconsciously raised her knees to give him less painful access to her newly opened passage. Her legs wrapped around his plunging buttocks and she held on tight as he began to plow her dripping wet cunt. She could feel hot trickles of blood running down her thighs and ass as he pulled out and reinserted. Half in a faint, his groaning an echo in the back of her mind, she began to respond to the cock rapidly ramming in and out of her pussy. It seemed to her that her pussy had a mind of it's own. She lay on her bed as a masked rapist plunged in and out of her bloody pussy while her vagina seemed to be trying to milk the invader. Slowly, she began to push up to meet his plunges, her cunt walls grabbing and sucking at the rampaging cock. "AHHHHHH, AHHHHH, OHHHHhhhhhh," she gasped and bucked, her head tossed side to side as she felt great hot gobs of cum squirt up into her womb. She clutched at him, thrust her hips up and kicked him with her heels. The second great wave of a climax that night washed over her body. "NOOOOOOO," she wailed as she fell back limply. Great electrical waves washed over her as the climax subsided. "No one climaxes when they are raped," she said out loud, ...but she had! Slowly she turned her head and looked at herself in the mirror. He lay on her outstretched body, his cock slowly coming out of the juncture of her thighs as he withdrew from her. She looked down at her crotch, a long string of cum connected his cock with her pussy. Slowly it broke off and fell to her gaping vaginal lips. "Oh no, I'm pregnant," she said out loud. "This is the time of my cycle when I'm extremely fertile, oh no, oh no," she sobbed. "Get up," he commanded. Struggling, Karie stood up beside the bed. She suddenly put her cupped hand between her legs as she felt a wet gush drain out of her ravaged vagina. Looking down, she saw her hand overfilling with sticky white cum and specks of blood. Long ropes of her rapists seed drained from her pussy and hand and slowly pooled on the floor between her bare feet. "On your knees, get on the bed, NOW," I ordered. Quickly, Karie crawled back on the bed. "Turn this way," I ordered. I shoved her around a little so she faced away from me. I reached over and grabbed the shredded nightgown. "Put this in your mouth, I don't want any noise," I barked at her. Kneeling on the bed, gagged, cum leaking out of her ravaged vagina, blood streaking her thighs, one hand sticky with his semen, Karie awaited an end to her painful ordeal, hoping he had his fill of her, hoping against hope that he would disappear from her room right this moment. "NUUUUUHHHHHHOOOOOO," she screamed into the gag. I had teased her for five minutes, rubbing my cock up and down her slit. Several times I had suddenly entered her from behind and just as quickly pulled back out, trying to make her feel like a bitch in heat. I suddenly grabbed her ass and rammed in balls deep, and plowed her furiously from behind. Several times I had pulled clear out and plunged back in. Slowly, I pulled all the way out and allowed my wet shiny cock head to spread her inner cunt lips and pop back in. Each time I popped back in, she uttered "uhh," and shook her beautiful little ass. Rape or not, the little bitch was getting turned on! I did this a half dozen more times and then started popping in and slowly shoving all the way into her, balls deep, and holding tightly up against her womb and very still. I would then start all over again, pulling all the way out, letting my cock slowly pop out of her hot tightly gripping opening, then slowly shove back in and all the way up her red hot little cunt. She was so tight I had to slowly force my way up her steamy little tunnel. Karie had lowered her head to the bed and tried to deal with the fact she had climaxed while being raped and losing her virginity. For a long time now he had been teasing her by pulling out and slowly inserting into her again, shoving slowly up to her innermost depths. Each time he pulled out she heard a soft wet "Pop," from her pussy. The rapid doggie style penetration felt so dirty, went so deep, it was so good! "No," she suddenly told herself, "you can't enjoy being raped, being used like a bitch in heat, kneeling on your own bed while some masked stranger fucks you like you were a dog!" I gave her a good hard fucking, pulling my cock slowly out and reinserting just into her entrance several more times. Her cunt was grasping my cock trying to milk my nuts. I rammed into her as I pulled back on her long dark hair and started fucking her doggie in deep rapid thrusts. Grasping her hips, I kept plunging into her up-thrust cunt from behind. Slowly, I pushed her head to the bed while turning her to face the mirror. I stood behind her, her ass jutting up into the air, rapidly fucking her from behind while I had her waist-length dark brown hair wrapped in my left hand, my right hand holding her ass, keeping her steady while I stared at us in the mirror. Writhing and moaning, her cunt convulsing on his cock, ass shaking and waving, she peeked at her rapist in the mirror. She didn't care if this was rape, all fear was gone, she needed this cock, had to have it, wanted it deeper, wanted a scalding hot stream of cum to fill her womb and make her climax. Wiggling her ass, trying to get more, she shoved back at the rampaging cock while he controlled her movements with her long hair in one hand and his other hand on her ass. She turned away from watching us in the mirror, raised her head and furiously shook her ass as I plowed her from behind. Her ass was waving and jerking as she tried to get more cock speared up her wet slurping cunt. Slowly I pushed her head to the bed and again. I could feel her ass jerking, her pussy pulling and sucking on my cock. She was as relaxed as she would get. I knew her back door was mine now. I had fingered her asshole so it was loosened up a little while I had eaten her. Looking at the wrinkled little entrance, I could see blood and cum stuck to it. It looked like a wrinkled little red and white bulls eye. "Now is as good as ever," I said to myself as I pulled out and slammed into the wrinkled little orifice. I couldn't believe how easy the head of my cock popped into her beautiful little ass. Her sphincter was relaxed, totally relaxed and not expecting the sudden invasion. I jerked to a halt as she shrieked into the gag and bucked like a wild horse. Suddenly, painfully, searing red heat flashed through her ass as his rampaging cock pulled out of her vagina and slammed into her virgin anus. "AHHHHHHHHHHHH," she shrieked into the gag. With only a split second hesitation, her sphincter had suddenly popped opened and admitted the long hard invader. Before she could react, his cock was buried to his balls in her virgin ass. My cock felt like it was being ripped off. She fought and lunged as I struggled to main control of her, one hand wrapped in her long hair, pulling back to keep her on the bed. She tried again to lunge forward to get off my raging cock. I could feel her asshole clenching and jerking as I held on and kept my dick rammed into her wrinkled little shitter. Looking down to where the base of my cock was barely showing in her ass, I could see the wrinkles were stretched out and the puckered opening was now stretched into a tight shiny pink ring surrounded by a smoother and wider ring of brown. I had my cock fully embedded in her ass! Quickly, I pulled back on the long brown hair and reined her to a halt as she tried again to gallop off my rampaging cock. Pain, pain like she imagined childbirth to be ripped through her ass and up into her guts. She had done everything asked of her, sucked his cock, fucked him, cooperated when he ate her pussy and even climaxed while being eaten and raped. Why would he hurt her so bad? "Hold still," she heard him order. "Hold very still and listen or I will rip your ass open!" She nodded her head up and down. "Relax, try to help me fuck your ass and it won't hurt so bad. Lots of ladies do this and you WILL too." He emphasized the word will with a thrust of his cock. Pain shot though her ass again. Nodding rapidly, she put her head down and concentrated on relaxing. Each little push of his cock felt like flames shooting up her ass. She shook her head no and looked back at me pleading for mercy. "Try to loosen up," I ordered. She pushed back at me, trying to relax, trying to make her ass looser. Suddenly I slipped deeper. "UUUHHHH," she moaned. "Relax, try to relax again," I ordered. She obeyed, it really wasn't so painful if she relaxed. "Again," he ordered, "Again," Each time she relaxed, he pushed a little more cock up her ass. She hurt, badly, but relaxing and letting him have his way with her ass was less painful. She was so ashamed, so embarrassed, this was so dirty! What if her ass was ruined, what if she couldn't control her bowels after he was through with this disgusting act? I watched as my cock slowly disappeared up her ass for the fourth or fifth time. Slowly, each time she relaxed, I got a little more in her. In five minutes, my balls were up against her pussy lips. "Relax, concentrate on relaxing. I'm going to fuck your ass for a couple strokes," I told the terrified young beauty. Slowly I pulled back a couple inches then began to shove back up her ass again. I watched as her ass quivered and shook and her head shook side to side silently signaling for me to stop. Jerking back on her long brown hair, I held still and began all over again. Soon she found out that thrusting her ass back and up and concentrating on relaxing did help. I began a slow, deep fuck of her beautiful round, oh so hot, ass. "Damn baby, you are hot, tight and nasty. Look at you shake that little ass!" She froze when she heard his words. "No, not again," she said out loud to herself. He had been fucking her sore ass for over an hour. The first time he took her there she screamed when she felt the salty cum squirt up into her raw bleeding ass. Gradually, the stinging pain caused by the salty load in her tender anal passage had subsided and she got a rhythm going with him again. She could hear herself groaning and moaning as his hard rod slipped up into her guts. She could feel the knob stretching her anal passage. Her ass felt like it had an itch way up inside, she had to scratch that itch. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was on her hands and knees, her eyes were glassy, her ass swayed and rocked as he plunged into her back hole. With a gasp, she realized she was watching herself push back at him as she tried to milk his cock of another load of creamy cum. I looked down and watched her fine round little teenage ass as it rotated and swayed. This little bitch really liked it up the ass. What a hot little fuck. I looked up at one of the cams and winked. Karie would have a vide tape surprise in a couple days. She would be especially interested in the parts where she was pushing back on my cock, her tight little ass shoving back, rotating frantically as her little asshole tried to swallow it all, while she gasped, "deeper, deeper, please, give it all to me!" "UhhUhhUhhUhh," she moaned as I probed her guts with my cock. "NOOOOOOO," she moaned when I pulled out. I flipped her over onto her back and shoved her legs back up to her tits while I reached down to the bag for the video camera While the camera ran on, I told her to put my cock back in her ass. Quickly she reached around and placed the head of my cock up against her still gaping opening. I pushed in slowly while she wrapped her legs tight around me and moaned. "Yes, yes, ohhhhh, please, easy," then she groaned and thrust up to meet me. I sank into her as deep as I could in one quick thrust. Frantically, she shoved up at me, trying to get my rock hard cock into the furthest depths of her bowels, "fuck my ass, fuck my ass, give it to me, NOW, FUCK ME IN THE ASS" she shrieked. "OUCH," she hollered as I bottomed out and started gushing cum into her bowels. "OHHHHHHHHHHHHH, AHHHHHHH YESSSSS," she moaned as the steamy cream surged deep inside her. Quivering, she jerked and wiggled trying to stop the salty stream from stinging her as she quivered and bucked through a climax that started deep in her ass and ripped through her entire being. I left her sobbing on the bed as I walked into her bathroom and washed my cock off. I had meant to make her lick and suck it clean, but I had other plans for her mouth. I didn't want her to fight and struggle, I wanted a good blow job.one for my video collection, and hers. "No more please," she whined. For a half hour she had been sucking my cock, spreading her legs while on her back and smiling at the videocam while she fucked herself with the dildo. I snapped shots of all the action with my hand held digital camera. "Come here," I ordered. While she watched the LCD screen dumbfounded, I showed her the part where she begged for cock and put my cock in her ass with her own hand. "Ok baby, give me a little more of that hot little cunt." Quickly she knelt on the bed and looked over her shoulder at me. She looked over at the mirror and adjusted her position so she could watch the action. I stood at the edge of the bed behind her and slipped my cock up to her puffy red labia. As soon as my cock touched the sensitive flesh, her hand darted back and guided me between the folds to her hot dripping pussy. I slowly slid into her honey sweet depths enjoying the hot tight grip on my probing meat. "Uhhhh, ohhh, yessssss," she gasped as I hit bottom and slowly began to fuck her. The little bitch had broken in fast and was in love with kneeling and taking cock up her pussy or ass. It didn't matter, I had found out, if she took it in the ass or pussy, as long as she was kneeling and taking it doggie. I looked down at her submissive, kneeling form as she began to rotate her ass and moan. Damn, this was some fine pussy, the greatest little butt fuck I had ever found, and it was all mine for the taking. "Slam," we both looked up when we heard the sound. Karie was sucking my cock one last time before I left. It was still dark, but nearly 6 a.m. Karie peeked out between the heavy curtains and under the shade. "It's my sister," she gasped. "What are we going to do now?" It was at that moment that I knew Karie and I were destined to have a great time together for years to come. Continued with "Anne"

Sorry for the empty posts folks, but my webmail's acting up! :P THIS is the first chapter in a continuing story (my wife requested it, so you have no worries about it 'dying on the vine' :) Best wishes, all empath empath Nulli Bureaucrati Carborundum! "Anyone plain can be lovely, anyone loved can be lost, Maybe I lost my direction, what if our love is the cost?" "Falling for the First Time", Barenaked Ladies, _Maroon_ ----------------------------------------------------------- <1st attachment, "forever1.txt" begin> Highlander: A Love for Forever By Empath Copyright, 2001 ------ Admonition: This story contains explicit depiction of sexual activity in it and shouldn't be made accessible to minors. Author's Note: This story follows the common theme I've been having lately of lovers separated with the twist of accepting the premise of the "Highlander" television show. As such, it should probably be considered 'fanfic', but I like to think I have explained all the twists and turns adequately for the uninitiated (and much better than the show EVER did:) to allow them to get into the meat of the story. ============ I sighed as I watched yet more snowflakes drift out of the sky. 'Perfect; its snowing again,' I thought. 'If this keeps up, all the work I just put into clearing the driveway will be undone by the time I get back, and I still have to shower before going to work!' My shoulders sagged as I contemplated the depths of my despair. 'And without the car in the driveway, the WHOLE thing will fill up with snow!' I gritted my teeth and resumed clearing enough of a gap to drive out. I settled back into the rhythm of dig and toss, dig and toss, as I made my way across the barrier of plowed snow, dwelling on the futility of my efforts. This chain of Lake Storms had started in November, burying Buffalo and indeed all of the Great Lakes' eastern shores. I thankfully hadn't been present for that first storm which had paralyzed Buffalo, but thanks to the State Department losing my identity, the Canadian government returned me to my hometown in time to catch at least half the winter. Not that I hadn't avoided this cold, heavy winter. Most of New England was receiving Jack Frost's attentions, and even Atlantic Canada was being pummeled by abnormal amounts of snow. I spent a fair amount of my time in Bathurst shoveling the walk and driveway. It was only February, but they'd already gotten more snow than they'd ever gotten in something like a hundred years of keeping records; last count when I phoned Nicole last was ten feet for the season to date and even more falling as we spoke. It had become a continuing story on the national news up in Canada - though I couldn't get word one of ANYTHING north of the border, even on the Weather Channel. I simultaneously cursed my nation's insularity and my ill fortune that my beloved had to cope with that much snow without me around to help. My reverie was broken as the chunk of soft snow I was lifting cracked in half; one piece fell off the shovel to land on the hood of my car, the other slid down the handle to plaster me straight in the puss. I dropped the shovel, wiping at my face and blurting out "FLACONS DE MAIS!" as I staggered back, snow-blinded in a manner other than the term intended. Internally, I chuckled as I realized my bilingualism - and all of Nicole's exasperated French lessons - had taken hold, even if I had just yelled out something that translated to "Corn Flakes". I recalled first seeing it on the back of the cereal box, and announced to my darling that it sounded like a great phrase to curse, 'Ah! Flacon de mais, cochon!' while giving some asshole driver the finger for cutting me off. Nicky laughed, but warned me not to use it in Quebec, where it wouldn't have the effect I wanted. Finally clearing my face, I sighed at the pleasant memory and started to step back to my shovel and the task ahead of me. Then I heard the car horn - very, very close to me. * * * * I awoke to an agonizing jolt of pain lancing through my neck and back. It felt like something scaldingly hot was being poured into my spine at the top and spreading throughout my body. As immeasurable time passed, the 'hot lead' cooled as it spread, and I merely felt painful aches in the small of my back and neck. Before long, even those feelings faded from the forefront of my awareness, allowing me to take in my surroundings. I was lying down, strapped to some sort of bed or gurney. The room I was in was dark and quiet. I couldn't tell the size of the room due to a lack of sounds to echo or not. Then a memory tapping away at my metaphorical shoulder grabbed me by the attention and made itself known. The accident! I remembered the front of the car striking my hip and tipping me over. As I fell, my head hit the hood. My last memory of the incident was a really sharp wrenching in my neck that caused me to pass out. And now, this room. I couldn't see any detail of the ceiling above me, and couldn't turn my head much for the restraints. Restraints? I was strapped down - plenty of thick bindings over my body - ankles, knees, hips & hands, chest and shoulders. And even my head was stuck in between two foam...blocks...wait - I'd been here before! I was on a spinal board! I had helped a friend in college for his lifeguard certification exam. They had to pass a practical exam - one part was taking a spinal injury victim out of the pool. Trent and his classmates had taken me from a prone floating position - I had been asked to do this because I could hold my breath a good, long time. The prospective lifeguards rotated me smoothly onto my back, gotten the buoyant spinal board under me, fastened an assortment of straps around me, and simply hoisted the board and me onto the pool deck. After the examiners checked all my restraints, and asked me whether I had been jarred at all during the procedure (I hadn't) everyone was given a passing grade. Then they propped me against the wall and left me. Seriously. The bastards mopped up the pool deck, cleaned the other equipment they'd used in the exam, then went into their respective change rooms and turned out the lights, leaving me leaning against the wall. I discovered that a spine board was very effective in keeping me put. No part of my body could move very much; I was comfortably but definitely held in place. I spent a nervous time waiting in silence, as my pride prevented me from calling out. After they'd gotten cleaned up and changed, Trent came in through the pool office and let me loose. And here I was strapped in a spine board again. Which made me nervous - when I got hit by that car, did something serious get broken? I didn't feel any pain now, but I wouldn't if my spinal column was severed, would I? Well, I couldn't do anything myself like this - maybe I should get someone else to help? "Hello? Is anyone there? Where am I? What's going on?" I could hear an echo, so the room must've been fairly large and empty. The darkness and emptiness didn't reassure me, and my calls got a little more frantic. "HEY! VAS HABEN SIE? Q'EST-CE QUE PASSE?" I struggled to think of any other languages I knew - not enough Spanish, and the only Japanese I knew I pick up from James Clavell. Might as well repeat myself: "What's going on? Q'est-ce que passe? Vas haben sie? C'MON! SOMEBODY! QUELQU'UN?" Then I heard a door open - and all hell broke loose. There was a loud buzzing noise, like I had just sat on a beehive. I could almost see a flickering in the corners of my vision. And I felt someone enter the room - even beyond the shadow on the ceiling, even beyond the footsteps, I felt a person come near out of the 'white noise'. All these confusing sensations were pushed from my concern when this stranger flicked the lights on. "DAMN! Take it easy with that, willya?" More steps closing to me. I felt my 'bed' shift slightly as the person touched it, and then the person moved my gurney out of the focus of the nearest overhead light. "There. That should be better for you. Sorry - you didn't care what you were facing when I brought you in here." The voice was a woman's, soft and seemingly gentle. But there was a hint of hardness - like cotton batting wrapped around a steel bar. "Who are you? Where am I? WHAT'S GOING ON?" I opened my eyes and wasn't blinded a second time. I could only see a ceiling done up in cracked-institutional-green. "I'll answer all your questions and give you more information than you'll want, but I need you to calm down, first." The voice was moving away, off to one side. "Why? I don't know ANYTHING - is this some kind of kidnapping? If it is, you're an idiot - I'm a nobody. Just a low-class night-watchman-" "-Named Mitchell Franklin Davis. Adopted son of Frank and Irene; supposedly born May 14, 1971. Adopted at the age of two, and no one knows anything about your birth parents. Average to good grades in high school, but you quickly flunked out of NYU because you fell in love and ignored your studies. Knocked around-" "What? How do you know all this? *I* didn't even know I was adopted - and I told no one about my crush on Wendy! What'd I do to deserve this?" The voice stopped receding and I was assaulted by a screeching - she was dragging a chair over. "I've been watching you closer than any government agency that could be interested in messing with you, Mitch. I've taken a personal interest in you since you appeared, my boy." The chair stopped somewhere behind my head. "Why - are you some kind of psycho?" Not a wise thing to ask, I'll grant you, but I was a little worked up at the time. "What, do you think I'm the next Messiah or something?" She chuckled. "Close, but not that big. Mitch - you asked where you were and why you're where you are. I've put you in a disused room in the closed wing of County General, near the morgue. It was the first quiet place I could find after taking you out of the locker." "Hospital? This is one fucking nice bedside manner! Waitaminute - morgue? What are you talking about?" "The man that ran you down called EMS for you - the ambulance that responded strapped you down and rushed you to the hospital, but spinal damage stopped your heart long before they arrived. The ER doctor didn't even bother taking you off the spinal board, just ordered you sent to the morgue for pickup by loved ones. "Mitch? You're dead." "Yeah, funny - you're a friend of Trent's aren't you - C'MON Trent! Fool me once shame on you but fool me twice shame on me! You've had your fun, now let me out! Trent?" "I assure you I'm not personally acquainted with your friend Trent O'Grady, and this isn't one of his pranks. You died in that ambulance." "Yeah, right - and you're the Grim Reaper come to usher my soul off to the afterlife? I always thought he talked like a dried-up old man!" "Death doesn't have quite the same meaning for people like you and me, Mitch. The car accident would've killed a normal person, and you did die, briefly. But your body recovered." I kept rolling my eyes at this crap. "Wow. I must be some kind of medical miracle - I know; you're a spy for a pharmaceutical company. You've kidnapped me so they can examine me, find out what keeps me alive, isolate it and make millions." Another chuckle. "You think quickly, if not always plausibly, Mitch. I like that." "What do I care? Cut this bullshit and LET - ME - GO." "Mitch. Stop panicking and listen to me." She didn't seem any more worked up from when she came in, I wish I could have said the same for myself. "WHY SHOULD I? HEEEEELLLLP! SOMEBODY!" "Mitch, we're underground and a fair distance from anyone else - don't waste your energy." "LET ME GO! HELLLLLP!" "Mitch? How can I explain things to you if you won't shut up?" "FUCK YOU - whatcha gonna explain to me, how I'm now your loving slave or some shit? FUCK OFF!" I think I finally managed to get her going; I saw a hand bring a handgun into my vision. She placed it against my chest, right above my heart. "I'm sorry, Mitch, but this'll do two things: illustrate what I'm trying to say to you, and shut you up for a short while." "Ohshit - nonono, please-" She fired. I'd never been shot before, so it's hard to describe - kinda like a cross between an injection and a really painful punch. I tried to gasp, couldn't, and blacked out. * * * * And then someone grabbed the bullet and yanked it out of me with just as much pain. That gasp finally came, and I jerked my back off the gurney. "Aaaaaaaaoooohhhh!" "Just over three minutes; rather fast for your first gunshot death - I must've missed the heart." The pain was centered on my left chest for a moment then it washed through my entire body, and was diluted as it spread. Next thing I knew, it was gone. "In a mood to listen, Mitch?" "What just happened?" I felt my chest, and realized I wasn't strapped down. My companion sighed. "I shot you, you died, and then you came back, just like when your neck snapped." I jumped off the gurney and faced this woman. She was sitting in that chair about ten feet away from me, looking rather reserved for a psycho. She was leaning back, her hands steepled under her chin with that gun sitting in her lap. "What do want from me?" "A number of things. First I want to explain some things to you. Please calm down and listen. Or do I have to kill you again?" This was beyond weird. She talked about death like it was just a minor infection, a cold or something. "Why shouldn't I just run outta here?" "Because you'd never reach the door before I shot you again, and then I'd have to strap you down again. I assure you that lying on splinters is very uncomfortable." She gestured to the gurney. I looked at it; the spine board was on top, straps in detached disarray. Just left of centre at about chest height was a bullet driven into the wood. Lots of little splinters were sticking up around the intrusion, and the wood was stained red. I looked at my chest, poked a finger through the hole in my bloodstained uniform shirt and felt my unmarked skin. Then, with a looming sense of what I would find, I felt over my back. Another hole and some splinters were present. I was dumbfounded; this just wasn't possible! It had to be some kind of charade, but why? And what about the pain - I didn't know any way of faking that. True, I'd never been shot before, but it certainly SEEMED genuine. I looked up at my captor and gave her a beseeching look, silently pleading her for a way to make sense of this madness. "Is it starting to sink in? Oh, sorry for that." She gave me a sympathetic look and a moment later I got it: sink in - bullet wound. I laughed flatly. I looked at this woman closely for the first time - her expression was the only odd thing about her. She looked on me with *concern.* That stopped me quicker than the threat of another bullet. "What is all this - what's going on?" "Your awakening, fellow immortal." * * * * We were in Regina's car - she'd managed to get a promise from me that I wouldn't run, put up a fight, or do anything that might attract attention until she'd had a chance to say her piece. I agreed on the provision I could walk away after without her shooting me again, or the like. But what had happened to me was eating away at what I thought of as the laws of nature; it was very unsettling and even though her explanation was hard to believe, it was the only one offered to me. We walked out of the hospital as if nothing was wrong; she'd advised me to just say we were visiting a patient and gotten lost if anyone stopped us. Before she pushed open the door, she offered her hand and introduced herself as Regina Garant. No one did stop us - the first rule in trespassing is behaving as if you belong there. (Something I would remember the next time I was on duty) I imagine my uniform helped, even though I knew a different security firm had the contract for County General. We exited the building and I followed Regina to a plainlooking sedan. When we got in, I noticed she fastened her seatbelt. "Why bother?" "Being immortal doesn't mean you don't feel pain - that gunshot hurt, didn't it? Want to try it again? Besides, dying in front of witnesses makes things very uncomfortable." She had a point; I put on my seatbelt as well. Once we were on a main road, presumably to her place, Regina began her lecture. Immortals had lived amongst normal people for all of recorded history. No one knew where we came from; no one ever had any knowledge about these people being born, and no immortal seemed to have any memories of times before 'normal' people had found them. Raised by foster parents, or even just by the 'school of hard knocks' immortals would mature and age normally. Some had even died of old age, never suspecting they were any different from their kin. This was because every immortal started off in a 'passive' or 'latent' form. Should a 'latent' immortal die in a violent manner - shot, stabbed, drown, die from a fall, etc. - they would appear to die. And then the 'immortality' would kick in and the immortal would awaken, his injuries having healed themselves at a vastly accelerated rate. And so this 'active' immortal would continue, never aging, never dying; illness could take hold but not kill, minor injuries would quickly disappear, and lethal injuries would merely incapacitate the victim until his special recuperative powers took effect. The one exception was decapitation; whatever this mysterious power was that immortals had, it was tied into the head remaining on the body. If an immortal was beheaded, their 'magic' was released in a 'quickening.' This odd term was both an object and an event - a phantasmal force that sought out the nearest immortal - usually the killer of the beheaded - and 'inserted' itself into the new immortal. Receiving a quickening was quite a painful experience, Regina informed me, but quite worth the discomfort. After the quickening, the receiving immortal would gain the knowledge the beheaded one had learned in his life - history, languages, sciences, artistic and musical ability, all would be passed on to the living immortal. For this reason, immortals tended to be rather cannibalistic, preying on their own kind in an effort to gain more power. In this respect, immortals were just as prone to greed and avarice as mortal people were. Most just tried to live out several quiet lifetimes, moving on when their lack of aging began to disturb their friends and neighbors. A rare few risked exposing themselves to public scrutiny by doing good works - an attempt to 'repay' this boon they had been given. Regina said she fell somewhere in between. The lecture was paused when I recognized the part of town she was heading through. "My parents live near here." "Yes. Just three blocks from my house. I have been watching you since you were five." "I still don't get that - why are you so interested in me? Has twenty years of stalking me been worth the effort?" "Mitch. Do you know how rare you are? Normal mortals outnumber our kind by more than a million to one. This is a wild guess, but I'd hazard to say that there are probably only two or three thousand immortals in the entire world. That makes finding you more important than finding water in the desert." She smiled. "And also remember that I'm going to be around for a long, long time. Spending a couple of decades watching a latent to see if he might turn out okay isn't that much of a waste; I've got plenty of time left." My next question was postponed by our arrival; she had a simple bungalow, similar to my family home, but not identical. We entered the house, and I put my coat and boots where instructed. My hostess directed me to the living room couch, and asked "Something to drink?" "Coffee. I suppose you know how I like it?" I added with a half-smirk, half-frown. "Black with two sugars." She disappeared from view, allowing me to take in the room. It was a generic middleclass 'living' room that no one ever entered except to dust: landscape and still-life prints by unknown artists, a few porcelain pieces sitting in spots to fill space, reproduction furniture and a dark burgundy paint on the walls. One feature that stood out was the lack of any family photos, even of her. This might as well have been a model home. I said as much to Regina when she returned. "It is, my good man - when I spotted you this subdivision was new, but almost completely bought up. I had to settle for the developer's demo unit. I haven't really brought anything new into these rooms except some fresh paint not long ago." She sat on the settee opposite me. "So, any questions about my briefing?" There had been several, but some had faded from my consciousness. I took a moment to remember them, failed, and settled with one that had stuck in my mind. "So *why* have you been watching me? Waiting for me to mature and then take my head? Want my quickening to be a little more?" Regina looked annoyed. "No; that's been the farthest thing in my mind. I've been around long enough to grow out of that 'greedy' phase - I will confess that there was a time when hunted my own kind - but lately I've taken up the custom of taking apprentices." "And I'm the latest?" She nodded. "Yes. I find a latent immortal, watch him or her until they 'awaken', and come in to teach the person of their new abilities, and dangers." "But why?" I was missing something important; maybe she wasn't explaining it properly. "What does it do for you?" "Philanthropy, I guess. Attempts to atone for my bad behavior earlier? But mostly it's a maternal instinct." "You see us 'apprentices' as your children?" "Yes...the only children I will ever have." "Something happened to you...your-" I gestured toward my abdomen. "But wouldn't it heal?" "Mitch? I'm sorry; I thought I explained that - no immortal can have children." "What, no one?" A shake of her head confirmed that. "Immortal men are sterile, and the women barren. We can never bring new life into the world." What Regina had said triggered a quick link of thoughts: I could never give Nicole children - Nicole! "Oh God. Nicole - she's - she'll grow old while I-" The thought of outliving her seemed like the end of the world. My tutor took an expression that I'd already come to hate - a knowing smile. "Mitch? Relax - it's not that bad." My despair turned to rage. "Not bad? How could it be WORSE? The one woman I've found that I can share my life with, and now I can't even do that? Damn you, you patronizing bitch!" I'd hit Regina where it counted - I threw her helping hand back in her face. With a mixture of hurt, disappointment, and annoyance she replied "There's no need to be ungrateful, my boy." "Ungrateful?!? "You say I could have lived out a normal life, grown old and died a natural death. Why didn't you?!? Now I have to stay like this while she ages -" She stood quickly and crossed to me, holding by the shoulders. "LISTEN. Firstly, I wasn't driving the car that ran you down. You would have become immortal with or without my help, I just helped you avoid any difficult questions from witnesses. "Secondly, you will have no fear of Nicole growing old and leaving you. I told you I've been watching you for most of your life. I followed you to Bathurst, and was nearby when you met her. She is like us." I can be rather thick - it took me a while to figure out what she meant. When I did, I found it unlikely. "She's immortal too? I find that hard to believe; very hard, indeed!" Regina shrugged. "Believe it or not, two latent immortals found each other and fell in love. It's probably this very improbability that makes you two so special." "But how can you be sure?" "You felt me arrive when you were yelling your head off in that spinal board. You felt my presence even beyond your normal senses, right?" With difficulty, I nodded. "It's the same for all immortals; we can sense one another. And any 'active' immortal can feel the presence of even a 'latent' one. When you pulled up in front of her house, I felt another 'aura' in addition to yours. At first I worried someone was coming for your head, but before long I realized your beloved is just like you." Even drowning in the deep waters of despair like I was, I was leery at grabbing this suddenly available life ring. "Nicole? Immortal?" "Yes." Her eyes searched my expression. "I can see you still don't believe me. Just wait here." And Regina left the living room. I heard the front door open, and saw her walk down the pavement to her car in the street. She turned onto the sidewalk and disappeared down the street. What was she doing - abandoning me? Had I proved untrainable, too inconsiderate of her charity? What had I done? This concern was dispelled by another swarm of bees. The noise was back and just as distracting; I clapped my hands to my ears, but that did no good. When it faded, I found myself kneeling on the living room floor. I jerked my head up to see Regina standing in the doorway. "What you felt was my 'immortality' coming within the threshold of yours. Every time one immortal comes close to another, they both feel what you did. You'll get used to it in time - just as well, since it's your early-warning system against those who would take your head." I looked at her in a new light: if she could put up with this, this cacophony every time she met a fellow immortal... I noticed something else. "It's gone now." Regina nodded. "Yes, it only lasts when one immortal first comes 'within range' of another. And I assure you, I felt it when I followed you to Bathurst." "But maybe it's not Nicole?" "Mitch, it's her - there was that time when you met her out in the park? I felt her approach before you could ever see her. Once you two...ahem." I blushed. "I patrolled around - we three were the only people in the entire park; Nicole's another immortal." I wasn't as comforted as Regina may have expected. "That's nice, but what do we do? Kill her and make her properly immortal? What if she wants to live a normal life?" "You're right, of course. This life may be long-lived, but it has drawbacks. You always have to be on the lookout for other immortals wanting more power; you have to keep moving or risk having Frankenstein's villagers show up on your doorstep one night. And the lack of children is another thing. "But remember - most of that will affect Nicole's life regardless of whether she stays latent or not - active immortals can still seek her out, and she'll never have children anyway." "But wouldn't ignorance be bliss?" "And what happens if she falls off a cliff walking along the shore up there? Thirty-foot drop that she gets up from?" I didn't have an answer for that. I couldn't bear the thought of my darling Nicole suffering through all the pain and confusion I had, without even the help of some 'mentor,' but neither could I bear the thought of following her around, never coming in contact with her, waiting for disaster... "Mitch? You have a decision to make: you can leave now, abandon your old life and Nicole, cut all ties to family and friends, move away and change your name. There are many wonders out there to experience, and you've been given a wonderful gift in enough life to see as many of those wonders as you like." Abandon Nicole - all the wonders of the world didn't seem very appealing without her to share them with. It was as if Regina read my mind. "Secondly, you can go to Nicole, 'awaken' her and explain to her what we are and take her with you on your journey. Love truly is one of the world's greatest wonders." That was tempting, but could I do that to Nicole? Hell - I'd have to KILL her; I could never bring myself to do that! "I can see my offers aren't very appealing to you, Mitch." That damn knowing smile was back. "How about this: You go to Nicole and explain the situation first? Tell her what she is and what you are - give her both sides of the coin: the benefits and drawbacks of immortality. And then let her decide what she wants to do?" When I heard that, my decision was moot - it wasn't mine to make at all. As I confirmed to Regina what I felt, a thought occurred to me. "That was a test, wasn't it? You wanted to see how I'd react and base my suitability as your apprentice on that?" She looked genuinely surprised, then thoughtful for a moment. "No. Not consciously at least. I've already seen enough of you growing up to know you're a decent person and worthy of my tutelage, meager as it is. "But you do have a point. If you'd decided to rush off to Bathurst with a gun to make Nicole join you, I wouldn't have offered to help you - I don't know whether I'd try to stop you or just bail on the whole situation, but you'd never get any help from me." "Help? You never said anything about helping me with Nicole." "Mitch, you're now my apprentice, my prodigy - do you think I'd let you try to handle something like this on your own? Not likely - and definitely not before you get at least a modicum of training." "Training?" "With a sword, my boy - the favorite means for an immortal to take another's head." "But we've come a long way with..." Regina took out her gun, and handed it to me. "Here - separate my head from my shoulders - completely mind you; no leaving it hanging by a sinew or something." I understood her point - lead pellets were good for killing people in the conventional sense, but beheading someone with even a shotgun would be a tricky proposition. Then she pulled at the cuffs of her suit jacket, and suddenly had two small swords in her hands. "These, however, will chop through a neck just fine." She handed one to me, and I examined it. "They're not as long as most swords that immortals carry, but I make up for the lack of reach with a second blade. I've seen some use axes - the weight behind the cutting edge makes the killing blow easier, but since most of the weapon is handle, it's harder to hit your opponent with a weakening blow. "Back in the Eighties - with all those ninja movies going on - the Japanese swords became rather popular: the light but large katana with a hilt that can allow use one-handed or two, the wakazashi - the samurai's other weapon - much like these and intended more as a parrying blade. I even met one who came at me with a no-dachi - the heavy cavalry sword of the mounted samurai, but then he *was* charging me from horseback. "Other popular weapons are the sabers, but I find them a little light in the blade for a serious severing chop." I looked at the short sword in my hand; it was much thicker than most swords I'd seen - more like a pointed, doubleedged machete. "It reminds me of a butcher's knife." "It would - you have to remember that decapitation is your final goal, regardless how much injury you put your opponent through. He'll get up and come after you even if you've cut his heart out. Even if you don't want to kill another immortal, you may have to in order to survive." I thought on that, and Regina led me to a door that led to the basement. Once we were down there, I was confronted with an armory. "It looks like the NYU fencing club!" "Yes, I run a private club out of here - just a half dozen people, to keep in practice. And I'm glad you took up this sport in college." My face flushed. "Well, I only joined because-" "Because Wendy fenced, I know. It's unfortunate that you were so infatuated with her; a college education before you 'awoke' might have helped. Still, no use crying over spilt milk - maybe it was good preparation for you." She walked over to a large wardrobe. "Huh?" She opened the closet door to reveal an assortment of fencing vests and masks. She grabbed what must have been her gear, and gestured for me to pick out mine. "You'll find that many things in modern society are denied you, Mitch. You'll never be able to take a pension - without a lot of makeup, at least. Government jobs, the military - any field where they'll check your background. And even if you get a raft of degrees, no one will take a young buck like you on as a professor." She threw me a pair of sweatpants and sneakers, and began to disrobe. I felt a little uncomfortable watching Regina undress, and not just out of modesty. She was rather attractive, but how old was she: a hundred years? Five? Older than Christianity? It seemed impolite to ask, so I shelved that curiosity for the time when the conversation touched on the topic. I concentrated on taking slacks and uniform shirt off, not quite ignoring the swell of her breasts under her bra and the line of her legs as they slid into a pair of knee-high heavy stockings. I quickly pulled up the sweatpants - hoping the loose material would hide my involuntary response. Resuming the conversation to distract myself, I said "Pity - I'd have thought our kind would have made excellent historians." I found that the sneakers fit perfectly, and wasn't really surprised. "We usually are, but no one believes us when we say we saw it first-hand." Regina was ready, right down to the gauntlets to protect her hands. She had a standard saber in one hand and a mask under her arm. "Mind you, there are benefits to balance this out too; no need for health insurance or pension payments, and we can really clean up on long-term investments; put a thousand dollars away in a savings account and let it sit for a century or so." By this point I'd gotten my gear together, and Regina put her mask down for a second and fumbled behind the wardrobe. She had what looked like a pair of padded dog collars, and threw one to me. "A little addition for our style of swordplay. Put it on under your mask with the clasp in front - the mask's bib will protect that part of your neck." I complied; feeling a little restricted by the collar. "So what do we start with?" I asked, catching the saber Regina passed me. "Just standard Olympic saber. For the first hour." * * * * It was quite a workout. I hadn't touched a foil, epee or saber since I'd flunked out of college two years previously, and my reflexes weren't what they had been. But my training in fencing was complete - that one benefit came from my obsession with Wendy. Before the hour was up, I was scoring points on my tutor, even if my body felt like a holding place for welts and bruises. "Right, now let's get a little more practical," Regina announced and changed her stance immediately; going from standing side-on to me to a slightly hunched frontal position. Her off hand came up and grabbed my blade. I lurched away from her attack, pulling my saber free. My next slash was blocked with her left arm, and I felt her blade slap itself against my ribs. "Foul!" I cried at the obvious infraction to Olympic rules. "What foul? Mitch, this is PRACTICAL fencing - the goal of which is to behead your opponent. There's not going to be any judges or audience when another immortal comes around - we don't like to be watched." She suddenly charged me with an overhand slash. When I parried high, she shoulderchecked me to the floor, and thrust her point against my chest. "And someone after your head isn't going to stop and let you get up, unless he feels like toying with you for a while." I woke up to the realities of my situation, and watched her turn her back on me and walk away. I jumped up and made a low cut toward her thigh. She managed to parry it as she spun, and pressed me with a quick flurry of attacks. As I parried them with both sword and off-arm, she punched me in the facemask. I stumbled for a second, and got a poke in the groin for my troubles. As I curled up against the pain, I watched the legs in front of me stop. "I'm sorry - I forgot I didn't have a cup for you." I lashed out, reaching behind her knees and pulling her off her feet. Before even I realized what I was doing, my blade was holding her down at the throat. "That's more like it! Really, I'm sorry for hitting you there, but I forgot." "And you let your guard down - gave me an opening." I pulled off my mask and wiped a sleeve over my sweaty brow. I didn't release my opponent. I watched her chest rise and fall with the effort of the last hour. Maybe she'd start to tire soon... When I pulled my saber clear and gave her my hand, she pulled me down on top of her. I felt a tap against the back of my 'neck guard', to which I simply tried to bite the wire mesh of Regina's mask. I heard her laugh. "Okay, okay - truce! We both need to rest; this'll do for you first practice session." We each stood with other's help. After we put our masks, vests, gauntlets and swords away, Regina ushered me upstairs to a main-floor bathroom. "You can shower in here - I'll get you a sweatshirt and fresh pants. There's plenty of towels, for hygiene...or modesty," she added, turning and walking for the upstairs. I watched the muscles in her back work under her bra straps. And wondered...what exactly was I being trained for? * * * * The shower was both a delight and a torture. My tired muscles soaked up the heat, but the vast map of welts that covered my chest and arms complained from the pressure of the water stream. Once I'd taken what benefit I could from the shower, I dried off and wrapped a large towel around my waist - those clean clothes hadn't materialized. Looking outside the bathroom, I found the house silent. 'Guess I'll have to go find her,' I told myself. The stairs surmounted, I began tapping on doors, calling out "Regina? Where're those sweats?" I found her in a bedroom, still in her sweaty things. She was sitting on the bed, her head slumped forward into her hands, and she was sobbing openly. A footlocker was before her, the open lid showing an assortment of male clothing, topped with a framed picture of a man. I quickly sat next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She leaned on me, crying just a little less. "Who was he?" "Robert - my husband." "Was he?" "Yes, I found him much like I found you, though not as deliberately." I held her close and let her rock slightly as she began to talk. "I was living in Belgium at the turn of the century, and when the Great War began, I just hid in a quiet cabin and planned to sit it out like I'd done with other European wars. "He was a officer in the British Army. His regiment was sent to the Front in 1916, and he died for the first time not far from where I was living. I had gone to look at the battlefield when we felt one another. He had a huge rent in his jacket and shirt - been felled with shrapnel, apparently. He was wandering around in a daze, trying to figure out why his men were all dead, yet he survived. I took him in and explained what he was, and all that. We hid in that cabin to ride out the war and fell in love. "After peace was declared, we changed our names to Robert and Regina, got married back in England and moved to America. We spent the Twenties having fun, and the Thirties saving up - an immortal doesn't put all his investments into one thing, like the stock market. We moved back to England when things got really bad in the U.S. "When war broke out again, Robert enlisted in the Army. I stayed behind, doing what I could to help the war effort. He was posted to the Asian Theater and I got letters from India, Burma, and finally Hong Kong...just before it fell. "But I never got my Robert back - something changed in him. He'd been taken prisoner when the Japanese captured Hong Kong and something in their treatment must have broken him. He came back to me in '46, and he just wasn't the same. He was quiet, meek, even shy. His love for me was still there, but his open affection was gone." Regina's tears increased, and I could tell she was coming up to something big. "And one day he came after me - he tried to take my head. I pleaded with him, begged him to stop - he never was as good at a sword as I was, I taught him everything he knew. But he wouldn't let up - it was as if he wanted me to kill him." She stopped to let out a few heavy sobs, shaking in my arms. "Had to...couldn't stop...I took my husband's head. And in the quickening, I knew. I learned what it was like being a prisoner of war. And I almost forgave him. But he could have rigged something to kill himself. Or even ASKED me to help him. But to make me..." Further words were lost in great wracking sobs. I let her cry herself out, and moved a foot to close the lid of the footlocker. When her tears subsided, so did her energy. I laid her out on the bed, and moved to take off her sneakers. When I pulled the duvet from under her to tuck her in, she pulled me to her. The kiss was desperate and feverish, and when she broke it her eyes were still closed, and she gasped "No, don't leave me, Robert." Oh God. She was delirious - thinking I was her long-dead husband. She hugged herself to me, kissing my chest. "Don't go away. Please, Robert." With a tear in my eye, I held her and kissed her forehead. "Never, darling. I'd never leave you." I pushed lightly against her, and we lay back on the bed, kissing all the while. As I began to undress Regina, she ordered me "No foreplay, just take me - I'm ready for you, my love." Removing her hot, damp underwear confirmed this. I'm ashamed to admit that I needed no preparation; I slipped off the towel around my waist, and moved between her splayed legs. Entry was divine, though part of me called out in apology to Nicole. I could understand if she never wanted to have anything to do with me if she learned of this, and my heart ached when I realized I would have to keep this secret from her, possibly forever. Then Regina pulled herself up and sucked on my neck. Thoughts of my beloved faded from mind, and I paid attention to consoling the woman beneath me. We kissed and I fondled her breasts, teasing her passion higher. Her hips worked against mine as I plunged into her again and again. I felt her legs wrap around my back and pull me to her. I shifted to one side, freeing a hand to slip between us and stroke her cleft as my phallus split it. Once my fingers were moistened with her juices, I worked gently at the engorged nub at the peak of her furrow. She cried out at the sensations and soon I felt her fingers clench at my shoulders, her legs clench at my waist, and her womb clench at my impaling rod. I gritted my teeth, found myself looking Regina in the eye, and heard her tell me "Let go, Mitch. I'm sorry for making you do this, so just let yourself go." I did. * * * * We hugged even after we calmed down. I don't know for sure who was comforting whom. After a time, I heard her say "Thank you, Mitch - I know you didn't really want to-" "It was therapeutic, not romantic." I eased down to be face-to-face with Regina. She smiled. It was a sad smile, but one that promised better times for the soul behind it. "Yes, and I thank you; Nicole is a very lucky woman." "As was Robert - I'm sorry he couldn't open up to you." She didn't so much as blink, so maybe I had helped her. "Yes, well - c'est la vie et c'est la guerre. Que sera, sera." I felt her shrug in my arms. I hugged her close again. As we rested, Regina brought up a non sequitur: "Mitch, do you know that it's been more than fifty years since I've fucked?" For some reason I will never be able to adequately explain, I began to laugh. "What is it?" Between gasps, I told her "And I thought I was in bad shape from not getting any in three months." That set Regina giggling, and she managed to tell me "Welcome to the big leagues of sexual abstinence, buddy!" before laughter took over her voice. When we had calmed down, Regina got up and opened the footlocker again. My concerns for her state of mind were dismissed when she took Robert's picture and placed it facedown on the nightstand. She grabbed some clean sweats for me, and as I dressed she stripped down the bed. She showed me to another bedroom and gave me a kiss before leaving for hers. "Thank you, Mitch - it was very kind of you to help me fight off my demons like that." I kissed her back, chastely on the cheek. "Thank YOU, Regina - it was very thoughtful and selfless of you to rescue me from a potentially embarrassing situation and get me up to speed what the new 'facts of life' are. What's on the agenda for tomorrow?" She walked down the hall to her bedroom and looked back over her naked shoulder. "Tomorrow we have to get you a new identity - especially if you want to see Nicole. I'll get some things from your apartment, and meet with some people-" "Forgers." "Some people. Once I get them working, we'll practice more." "Surely there's more to being immortal than swordplay!" "Yes, but most never get the chance to learn it if they can't keep their head." ============ Author's postscript: Right; I was worried how I'd manage to work in a little sex in the first chapter, but my muse came through with a nice little 'tear-jerker' sub-plot, didn't she? So what do you think? The TV show is finished, but it runs often enough in syndication, so you can always catch reruns. A lot of episodes were as deep and somber as this, so if you like serious stuff based on a fantastic premise? <shrug> Anyway, you'll get more of this just as soon as I can get it written; Dancer will be definitely interested in this, so I'm not going to abandon it... <1st attachment end>

SUBJECT LINE: {ASSM} "Fortune Favours the Bold" {Empath} (MF, pett, oral) Fortune Favours the Bold By Empath Copyright, 2001 ------- Disclaimer: This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity and shouldn't be made accessible to minors. I, the author take no responsibility if this restriction is not upheld. Author's note: nothing much to say - this one was simply forced on me by my muse. By the way, do you think this one needs a 'rom' tag? I can't quite make up my mind... ============= "The Boar and Thistle" - imagine that, a (seemingly) genuine English pub in downtown Austin, Texas. I shook my head at the thought of what the proprietor would have thought as 'authentic' atmosphere, and pushed open the door. He wasn't that far off: a few nondescript watercolours on the walls, some brasses hanging from load-bearing posts, stained wood panelling throughout and genuine pint glasses complete with the Queen's Surveyor mark. It was an understated decor, and I felt immediately at ease. Perhaps that's why I acted as I did... But I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Nicholas Brown, "Information Technology Facilitator". That's really just an expensive-sounding title for a database programmer who picked up some knowledge of computer networking along the way, and decided to become an independent consultant. I'd been working in this fashion for several years when my first client, a regional insurance company in the U.S., called me up again and asked me if I wanted to help them with the computer portion of their expansion into the Southwest. I haggled a little, nearly died when I saw their first counter-offer, and was on a transatlantic flight before my imagination could finish spending the money that I did not yet have. Joan Glidden, the Regional Director of Information Management, quickly became a good friend. In three quick weeks we had mapped out the organisation of the computer system, and merely had to select the staff whom could best bring our vision to fruition. Human Resources was not my strong point, and we'd reached an impasse one afternoon on an interviewee for a sysop position. "I think she'd do just fine." "Joan, I can't agree with you - she was evasive to several of my questions. She seemed like she wasn't paying attention in the interview. I don't know whether she'd take the job seriously." "Her credentials are fine, and I've worked with her before - she's diligent enough about her work." She looked at me in a slightly deprecating way. "I admit that I've never seen her before today, and I can't judge her previous experience in the same way, but at the very least she blew the interview. If you think she's capable enough maybe we-" Joan rested her chin on her hand and smiled as she interrupted me. "-Should schedule another interview so she can blow the interviewer instead?" I just stared at my colleague in complete confusion. "What?" "Oh, come on - you've got her phone number, just call her up; don't waste my time, too!" As I said, I'm not adept at handling human communications. I just gave Joan another look of bafflement, which piqued her curiosity. "Hold on, you never noticed? How she was preening herself? How she looked at you? Jesus H - you are a geek aren't you!" "Never stated otherwise, Joan, but what's your point?" This elicited a laugh. "God, Nick! She was hitting on you - there were times I felt like getting up and leaving! You mean you never noticed anything?" "In my defence, I *did* get a strange feeling-" "I bet!" "-About her, and NO, not *that*!" I was starting to drift out of embarrassment and into aggravation, not picking up on the signals this woman had apparently been sending me. Joan's bemused mood didn't help. "I guess I was more interested in gauging her professional capabilities. More so than SOME people, obviously!" My barb was ignored. "Ya know? I thought just American men were thick as cinder blocks. Or - what is it you guys say?" "...As two short planks." I thought back to the interviewee's behaviour, and tried to recall anything that I might have construed as romantic overtures. "You're just kidding, right? She wasn't-" "She was a heifer in heat and had eyes only for the bull sitting across from me!" Her amusement faded, and she frowned slightly when she asked: "Nick, can I ask a personal question?" I shrugged. "We've somehow gotten into a very personal topic already; go ahead." Joan stumbled over her words. "Nick, are you? I mean, do you like- Uh...well, does the opposite-" Seeing her reach my level of discomfort gave me confidence. "Joan, I'm straight and active. You know I'm not married, and I'm currently between girlfriends." Laying my cards on the table, I forged on. "I have had relationships in the past, sexual relations in several instances and used to think I could pick up on innuendo. Now I'm not so sure..." "Ah, must be a cultural thing; don't beat yourself up for missing the bite on your hook!" "You said you worked with this woman before. Is she particularly promiscuous? Easy?" "Her? Not really." "So why me?" "It's probably the accent - I have to admit I found you rather...appealing when I picked you up at the airport." "Until you got to know my ugly inner self," I joked. She joined in. "Nah, it was the professional angle. That and the fact that you'll be going a long way away when we get done here." I couldn't resist the dig: "I would have thought that would have been a mark FOR me, not against!" Joan shook with laughter, then checked her watch. "Nick? We're pretty much done for today. Do wanna go back to your hotel-" "WHAT?" "-Freshen up, and meet me for a *platonic* drink later? Perhaps grab a bite to eat and we'll see if I can get you adjusted to 'American signals'? I'm assuming you don't intend to remain celibate for the next month or so you're gonna be here!" "Actually it's chaste - I really do NOT plan on getting married in the near future! But it sounds like fun; I've been spending too much time here and at the hotel. I could use a break to my monotonous routine." "Great!" She scribbled an address on a scrap of paper and handed it to me. "Grab a taxi and meet me at this bar - I think you'll like the place - and I'll make the reservations. Don't worry about a tie, though; the restaurant isn't some stuffy, old-world place which tries make its customers feel like they're inconveniencing the staff!" I gave her my best disapproving grin as I took the note. "'Stuffy, old-world place'? I think I've just been insulted!" We shared a laugh, gathered our things and left the interview room. * * * * Which brought me to the "Boar and Thistle" just as dusk was drawing in on a Tuesday evening. The bar was fairly well populated, with some space at the bar and only two or three tables empty. As I made my way to the barkeep to order something, a burst of laughter caused me to look in the opposite direction. A group of young women, still in their 'business casual' suits, were seated at a table across the pub. One had just made a joke and the trio was sharing a hearty laugh. I smiled and kept an eye on them while I waited for the bartender. One lass drew my attention. A dusky beauty, probably Hispanic, leaned back from the table and took a draw on her beer bottle. Her friends were by no means plain, but something about this woman in particular piqued my curiosity. Her long, straight, raven tresses were kept back in a ponytail, and her cream-coloured suit accentuated her dark, exotic complexion. She had a winning smile and laughing eyes that made you feel better just looking upon them. "Something for you, sir?" snapped me from my reverie, and I turned around to ask the black bartender if he had any Guinness on tap. The man looked at me with a hurt expression. "Couldn't run much of a bar without it! A full pint?" "As if there's another way to serve it!" I pulled some notes from my jacket pocket. "May I pay in coin a little closer to its home?" This caused a chuckle as he slowly pulled me a measure of the thick, rich stout. "As much as I'd like to, the IRS would complain if I tried to pay my taxes in pounds!" I drew out my wallet and handed the man one of your drab, green bills. He made change and cocked his head as he handed it to me. "I can't place your accent..." "Liverpool. Yes, I *have* been to the _Cavern_ and no, I *don't* know anyone even distantly related to them!" The barkeep gave me a meek grin. "As soon as I tell anyone where I'm from they invariably ask if I've ever met the Beatles, if I've ever seen them play, ad nauseam. I tell you, at times it's enough to make a man wish those 'four young mop-tops' were from Manchester!" My host gave me a sympathetic smile. "Well, I hope you enjoy our little town." "First chance I've gotten to see any of it; been working too hard." "Well, a pint of Arthur's finest is a rather good way of unwinding." I murmured an 'aye' as he moved to tend to another customer and took a draw on my beverage. I let the stout ooze down and coat my throat like treacle. More laughter caused me to look back at the ladies' table. The gels certainly were enjoying their after-work meeting; perhaps sharing their opinions of their co-workers. I chewed my lip as it occurred to me that the woman I had interviewed earlier might be doing the very same thing at this moment - joking with her friends about 'the stiff Limey who wouldn't have noticed a come-on if I had it tattooed on my tits!' Tits...hmmm. That made me look back at the dark beauty. Her suit hid her figure somewhat, but even so she was thick across the chest. As I examined her more closely, I realised she was rather plump throughout, her stocky frame less noticeable while she was sitting. Her above-average weight didn't detract from her appeal for me, at least. The key feature that attracted me was her demeanour; her light, happy mood drew my focus to her as surely as a lodestone drew a compass needle to it. I turned to sip from my drink, and when I looked back, my lodestone was gone; her companions were talking, heads held close together, but the woman's chair was empty. A thought made me look around quickly: perhaps they'd noticed me watching? Was the focus of my attention asking the bartender to do something about an undesired ogler? My fit of paranoia ended when I saw a cream-suited back disappear into the ladies' WC. I drank some more and waited for my 'subject' to complete her ablutions. When she came out, my attentions were rewarded. The woman moved with a lithe grace that belied her weight. Her step had a playful bounce; she looked around her with a good-natured smile and her arse - ill hidden by her office skirt - made that peculiarly appealing twitch. I wasn't able to watch her retake her seat, for it was at this moment my dinner companion chose to arrive...with a companion of her own. Joan tapped my arm, and gave a short-breathed hello. I looked upon her, dressed in rather formally in a 'little black dress', and asked, "I thought the place we're eating at isn't that 'stuffy'? Or are you just trying to make me look slovenly?" Then I followed her glance and took in her escort. He was tall, lean and blonde. His healthy tan added to his handsome, chiselled good looks. This exemplar of appearance offered a hand and a million-dollar smile. "Nick? Rick here is a dear, old friend. He's in town for only a couple of days, and I-" "-Really must make time for him; don't worry about it!" I shook hands with Joan's friend, and introduced myself. "Nicholas Brown. I work with Joan's company as a consultant." "Richard Adams, KPBY News," he replied without a trace of Texan drawl; I was beginning to think very few men in Austin right now were actually FROM Austin. "I'm doing a story on the murder trial here of a man from my town. As Joan said, I'm only here for a short while. Sorry for taking her away from you." "Not at all! My contract will probably last out the year, so I've got plenty of time to get a meal out of her." Joan discreetly mouthed a 'thank you' while her date asked me if I cared to share a drink before they left. I agreed, and as he ordered drinks, Joan and I made for the nearest empty table. "So there but for the grace of the alphabet go I?" I asked as I took a seat facing the women that I'd watched earlier. "Say again?" "I've noticed that your date's name differs from mine in only one position, and they're only, uh...four letters apart!" "Nick - we know each other well enough - you know I don't mix work and pleasure-" I grinned smugly. "Oh dear, you seem to have mistaken my jest as earnest comments. Could *I*, a simple male, have been TOO SUBTLE for the woman here before me to understand my intentions?" As always, Joan refused to take offence. After a short laugh, she looked at me with a bit of concern. "Seriously, Nick. This isn't gonna put you out?" "Don't concern yourself, dear friend. I may have some contingencies in play," I replied, leaning slightly to look past her to my Hispanic 'subject.' This elicited a raised eyebrow, and I responded to the unasked question with "I guess the best teacher is experience; you go have fun - I'll see if I can pass the entrance exam!" Joan was prevented from commenting by Rick's arrival. "So, Nick - what part of England are you from?" I rolled my eyes and told him, bracing myself for the obligatory question. "Ah, Liverpool. I was there a few years back doing a retrospective on...but I suppose you're sick of people talking about them. How's Liverpool doing in the Premier League this year?" I was nonplussed - the man had avoided the one topic about my hometown that I disliked. He must have been quite an interviewer to pick up on my body language. "Uh, I managed to catch their game with Newcastle last week; they lagged for the first half and managed to pull a tie out of it at full time." Rick snorted. "Newcastle! I know they're an exceptional team, but I can't shake the feeling that they're cheating, going around in a strip that makes me confuse them for officials!" Joan and I chuckled at this. We entered into a short discussion of the differences between American and European team sports. As I spoke with him, I began to see why Joan had bumped our arrangements at the last minute; Rick was intelligent, charming, and quite handsome to boot. I felt a little envious of him, to be honest. Before long, Joan looked at her watch. "It's getting late, we'd better get going if we want to keep our reservation." Rick decided to go hail a cab, allowing me a quick word with my friend. "Sorry again; he called just after I got home, and it's been a long time since I've seen him." "No apology necessary! I can see why you keep in touch with him; if my proclivities differed somewhat, I'd be competing with you for him." Joan shook her head. "I never thought I'd be glad my co- worker was a straight guy! Thanks, and have fun!" "I'll let you know tomorrow how things turn out. Enjoy yourself - and him!" Joan waved goodbye as she pulled on her coat, and I returned my attention to the ladies. They were munching on some pub food. I shuddered, and hoped this place wasn't authentic in its cuisine. Finishing my Guinness, I wandered back to the bar. After a minute, my tavern keeper was pouring me another. I asked for a basket of wings, and was served the food before the man could finish pulling my pint. I stayed at the bar, and when the gentleman was free, I looked in the direction of my interest, and asked "Those ladies over there; do they come here much?" His ebon face became guarded, and I could see the wheels in his head spinning away, trying to decide whether to divulge information about his regulars to a relative stranger. Reaching a decision, he admitted "Often enough. They come in about once a week, have some wings and things. Then I think they go to a movie or something." "Ah, the cinema. It's just that my dinner plans fell through, and I was considering asking if I may join them." Polishing a glass (why do bartenders always do that?), my confidant cocked his head and asked in a creditable upper- crust accent "I say, m'lud; would that be entirely proper?" I smirked at his query. "I know it would be unforgivable to press myself upon them without a proper introduction, but 'when in Rome...'" My comments and demeanour must've impressed the barkeep; he wished me luck, but reminded me acceptance would be up to the ladies. I took a large gulp of my pint, screwed up my courage (sorry), and threaded my way to their table, timing my arrival to be just when their laughter eased. The women noticed my intrusion, and looked expectantly at me. "Ah, I apologise if I intrude, but I'm in town on business, and my friends have made last-minute changes in their plans, leaving me in the lurch. I hesitate to ask, but could you fair ladies permit me to sit with you?" Some of Rick's charm must have rubbed off on me; I'd never been this forward, but - from the looks on their faces as they considered my request - my first attempt could be attributed to beginner's luck. Each nodded, and the woman I'd taken an interest in pulled her coat from the vacant chair. I placed my food and drink at the table, and explained myself. "I've been busy with my work for the last few weeks and haven't had the chance to acquaint myself with your fair city; my co-worker was going to show me the sites, but as I said, those plans fell through." Something occurred to me, and I added "Oh! I'm Nicholas," proffering my hand. I shook with each lass in turn, learning their names were Christy, Liz and Maria. The last - my 'subject' - stated "You're not American." "English," I agreed. "From Liverpool, and sorry I've never met them." I quickly continued, seeing the girls' eyes light up. Maria, to my right, guessed "You get asked that a lot, I suppose," with a sly smirk. "All too often, I'm afraid. I enjoy their music a great deal, but Liverpool had more than a half-million souls in residence when I was born, and many of them had the impudence to not be named McCartney, Lennon, Harrison or Starr! What an affront!" I added with a fake expression of offence. My remark did its trick, and the ladies broke into laughter. Pressing my advantage, I asked "So what would you recommend a foreigner take in to get a feel for Austin?" The three posed a few obvious ideas - the State Capitol, some of the ornate buildings at U of T, the Tom Miller Dam and Austin Lake outside of town. Liz chewed her lip for a second, looked at her companions. "Actually, we were going to see a movie this evening." Her eyes asked her friends if her unstated offer was wise. I waited for them to reach a consensus. It was not long in coming. Maria looked me over, and said, "Yes. Since you're free, would you like to join us? We were thinking on seeing 'Hannibal'." I contrived to look surprised, and replied "What? Three fair maidens such as yourselves attending a film like that without protection? I feel obligated to offer myself as chaperon, if from nothing else than Sir Anthony's exceedingly unsettling performance!" Christy looked disappointed. "Oh, have you seen it already?" "Oh no - but I've heard enough rumour about it and seen its predecessor to come to a conclusion. Indeed I must insist I accompany you, a guardian against the shadows of our imaginations which will no doubt prey upon us when we leave the theatre!" My affected comportment caused my hostesses to smile and they agreed to accept me. * * * * The movie was pretty good, not quite up to its hype, but then no film has matched the promises made by its marketing in YEARS, I'm sure you'll agree. The ladies and I bundled ourselves into a cab, and we began to drop people off. First I walked Liz to the door of her apartment building, and was heartily thanked for my protection. I jokingly offered my phone number in case she had nightmares this night, and was rewarded with a warm smile and peal of laughter. Next on the route was Christy's home - she lived in a suburban house with several roommates. It may have seemed to be a circuitous path, but my hostesses had agreed upon it when I told them the location of my hotel; apparently Maria's place was not far from there, and things would be simplest this way. I wasn't complaining, for it left me in the taxi with Maria as long a possible. We talked of the differences between Julianne Moore as opposed to Jodie Foster, and before I knew it, the cabby was coming to a stop. I checked on the amount of the fare by this point, and looked back to my companion to find her staring at me as if she was gauging me. She quickly recovered and asked if I would be interested in coming up with her for some coffee. I dithered for maybe two or three seconds before accepting Maria's offer. I paid the man the money Liz and Christy had given us and enough cash from my own pocket to cover the deficit and give him a healthy tip. He gave us a big smile, and wished us a good night. Maria's apartment was probably a fraction smaller than my hotel room, but even so I felt more at ease here. The living room had a warm, comfortable feeling as I took a seat on the couch. After a couple minutes of raised-voiced conversation, my hostess came out with the coffee. She sat next to me and we continued to talk about movies. After probably more than an hour of interesting debate and discussion, Maria suddenly made the statement: "I actually enjoyed Julianne Moore's performance, even though I don't like her much." This was a little startling, because we had drifted to talking about modern martial-arts movies. I thought for a second, recalling her part in "Hannibal", I agreed with Maria. "Yes, but what do you think of her work?" she asked. I had to stop and think scouring my memory for another movie she was in, and when I had thought of several, I made an evaluation. "Well, I would hazard to say she's a competent actress, but I agree with you - something about her...just leaves me...unsatisfied? I can't put my finger on it. Just some indefinable quality that disappoints me, in a way." She looked relieved. "So it's not just me! I can't describe it either - I just don't like her! Take her performance in _Boogie_Nights_ - I didn't believe that her character was as loving as it was supposed to be. I couldn't even believe her kisses." I struggled to recall whether Ms. Moore had actually kissed anyone in that movie, and was interrupted when my companion said "Now this - this is a kiss," and demonstrated her version of affection. It was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. I rallied magnificently, and kissed back with as much enthusiasm as Maria gave me. It went on for some time, and though no tongue was involved, I didn't complain. When oxygen starvation broke us apart, I looked at her with the question of what she intended on my mind. And on my face as well, apparently, for she nodded imperceptibly and began unbutton her blouse. Her bra was a pale green, and it offset her dark skin beautifully. I leaned forward to kiss her cleavage, and she hugged me close. I left an array of kisses all over her breasts, pausing to suckle at the nipple through the lacy material of the bra. Maria squirmed beneath me and began to unbutton my shirt. I switched breasts, shifting the two of us just a little too much; we tumbled off the couch. I ended up on my back, with Maria making a four-point landing over me. It took a moment to find that only our collective pride had been injured, and she took this opportunity to move us to the bedroom. She led me there by my belt buckle. Once safely situated on her bed, we took the opportunity to divest both of us of our clothes; Maria looked as good naked as I'd imagined. She noticed my attentions, and posed on her side for a moment. My eyes took in her shapely legs, lightly furred mound, firm abdomen, full breasts, and then lingered on her beautiful, warm face. While I was so distracted, she reached over to grasp my cock. I sighed as she stroked me, and flinched when I felt her mouth engulf me. I enjoyed the sensations, then steeled my nerve to repay my lover for her philanthropy. I rolled towards her, dick still being sucked, lifted her leg and examined her pussy. It was warm to the touch, the outer lips swollen and spread. I ran a finger over her labia, then dipped it within to test her depths. I met moisture, and made Maria moan around my manhood. I began to slide my fingers in and out of her cunt, provoking the woman before me. When I brought my lips to her mound, Maria stopped me, released my cock, and said "No, I want to cum with you in me." Being ever the gentleman, I acquiesced. We shuffled around, Maria lying on her back and me kneeling between her legs. She pulled me to her, and kissed my neck, nibbling lightly. I rubbed my cock against her wetness, slicking myself. Placing my head at her opening, I placed my hands on her shoulders, pinned her to the bed, mauled her mouth with mine, and entered her. The woman's moan made my sinuses tickle. She was hot, wet and clenchingly tight. The going was slow, but well worth taking our time. After some subtle movements and several changes of government, I filled her, my balls resting against her ass, her prominent clit pressing into my bush. I withdrew slowly, enjoying the resistance of her snug box. Shifting, I put one arm alongside her body, and slipped the other between us to wet its fingers and play at her apex. Maria groaned and moved her hips to meet mine when I came down on her again. We started to fuck each other, slowly at first, but steadily building and keeping our rhythm throughout. Her clit helped me quickly push her over the top, and it was a Herculean effort to resist the milking of her climaxing cunt. I eased my efforts as she came down, but before I knew it, her hands were teasing my nipples, her legs behind my back pulling me into her. "Fuck me, Nick - I like it hard and fast." That was all the urging I needed. I planted both hands underneath her shoulders, shifted my knees to spread her legs more, and began to plow her furrow mercilessly. Our eyes locked, and I watched the fires blazing in hers. She came twice more, the second time just after I had let loose and filled her with my cum. I dropped onto her weakly, and could feel her tension - how close she was to cumming. I slid to her side, and bent down. My lips brushed her belly, causing her to flinch at their touch, and when my fingers reached the top of her legs, she peaked. My pride satisfied I collapsed next to her, one sweaty body alongside another. I was roused by Maria attempting to stand. She wasn't having much success and looked back to me. "I'd like to go to the bathroom, but someone fucked the strength out of me," she said with a smile. "I can't let a woman as lovely as this sit in discomfort," I replied tiredly. After a few attempts, I sat up alongside her, and we leaned on each other as we made our way to the toilet. I sat on the edge of the tub while she went first. Completing this task seemed to have energised her some; she helped me onto the loo, and hugged me before taking my place on the bathtub's lip. We made our way back to bed with more independent success, and crawled under the covers together. Maria's cheek fitted perfectly in the hollow of my collar. I gave her a light peck on the forehead and drifted off to sleep. * * * * I awoke, and spent several seconds of panic when I didn't recognise my surroundings. After the previous night's events came back to me, I looked upon the dusky beauty sleeping beside me. Maria stretched, and looked at me with a happy, satisfied smile. "Good morning, sir." "Good morning, milady," I replied and leaned down to give her a kiss. I stroked her bare shoulder, and we cuddled under the covers without doing much. Maria got the first shower; I was a little slow getting up, and I've mentioned my chivalry before, anyway. Even so, there was plenty of hot water left when I finished my morning ablutions. I returned to the bedroom to find it empty. Hearing noises in the kitchen, I called out to Maria. "You get back in bed, Nick - I've got a surprise for you soon!" I complied, slightly curious. Then Maria came in with a tray. On it were two plates, each with- "Egg, soss, and a fried slice! Authentic English cuisine!" She looked delightful in a white bathrobe, her face shining with good cheer, and I was hard- pressed to speak in response to her wonderful gesture. I struggled to pull my jaw back into my head when she explained: "My folks gave me a trip to Europe when I graduated from college; I spent more time in the U.K. than anywhere else. I'll admit that most of your ideas on cooking are unexciting, but you have the right idea about breakfast!" As we ate, we talked about Maria's experiences in Britain, what she'd seen, where she'd gone, and what she'd done. It was cheering to meet someone who liked my homeland as much as I did. Well, admittedly I'd even gotten to *know* Maria in the biblical sense already, but it was an enjoyable breakfast. When she had taken our empty plates away, I began to dress. Maria returned, smiled at me, and began to pick out her clothes for a workaday Wednesday. I took a moment to reach into my jacket and got a business card. "This has my email, cell phone, and I'm writing the hotel, their phone and my room number. I'd like to see you again, Maria." She didn't take the card. "Nick? I don't know how to say this, but-" "This was just a fling for you?" Maria looked torn. "At first, it was. But we've talked, and I really like you, Nick. It's just that you're only here on business; you'll be going back to England when you're done." I paused before replying. "Yes, I live and work in England; most of my clients are there. But this contract I have now, do you know how long it lasts?" "A couple of months, at most?" "No. I'm going to be in Austin for the rest of the year, probably. My client is expanding all over the Southwest, but this'll be their regional headquarters and it's where I'll do my work - I don't have to BE out at the various places where they're opening offices." "All year?" I nodded. "So..." "We'd have enough time to really get to know one another. Whether either of us snores bad enough to disturb the other, if your way of folding clothes will piss me off, or the way I eat soup will drive you nuts; plenty of time for other things to go wrong. Do you want to try and find out?" She smiled, took my card, and kissed me. "Thank you. How about I call you tomorrow about doing something on the weekend? Showing you the town?" "It's a date." I kissed her in return. "Well, we'd better get going - I'm a little late for work, but you've still got to go to your hotel and change!" * * * * It was past ten o'clock when I got to work. Joan was already in her office, though she looked to be in worse shape than I was. "HIYA, JOAN!" I yelled when I stepped in and sat opposite her. She cringed, and looked me in the eye. "You're a mean bastard, Nick." A smile kept me from thinking I'd offended my co-worker. "Good night with Rick, m'dear?" "The best." "Looks like you didn't get much sleep." Joan merely grinned. "You know, you should try my plans: an overture that night, a good night's sleep, a reprise in the morning, followed by ablutions and a healthy breakfast. Then you're ready for a nearly full day of work." She looked at me with a hint of surprise. "You mean?" I tried not to look too smug. "I passed with honours." "Again in the morning?" "Well, not this time, but we've got weekend plans in the works." "Well bravo to the Brit. Looks like you don't need my help." "Never said I did, darling - I just had to get off my arse and try. Tell you what; if Rick's in town again, and she and I haven't broken it off with me, we can always double and go try this comfortably casual restaurant you were talking about." She smiled warmly at me, and we started our workday. Fin ============= Author's postscript: THERE, done! I'll have you know I've been suffering from writer's block for over a week. I had this story outlined right to the end but I just couldn't 'flesh it out'. Consider yourselves lucky! :D

Leave it to Chance, part two By Empath Copyright, 2001 ------- Disclaimer: This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity and shouldn't be made accessible to minors. I, the author take no responsibility if this restriction is not upheld. Copyright Notice: Author's Note: This is the second part of a (possibly) continuing story. Unlike most, this one can't stand on its own - you'd better go find chapter one in the same place you found this... ============= I stepped out of the locker room feeling like a million dollars; not only did I just have an invigorating workout and a cleansing shower, but the conversation during the workout had done wonders for my state of mind. 'Now if she hasn't ditched me, I might have a good meal to go along with that,' I thought. As I waited, I began to think deeply about Linda. I'd only met her just...well, okay two hours before - more than I thought but still not enough to...what? What did I want from her? So far, we merely seemed to be new friends who could banter easily. It would be presumptuous to expect a romantic involvement or even meaningless sex just because we were going out for dinner. 'Hell, even if I've just made a friend, I could do a lot worse!' The way she counseled me earlier showed she was a nice person. Kind enough to reach out to a stranger and get him talk of his problems while she listened and shared their burden. Sharing burdens...that was just the sort of thing that Becca and I broke up over. I was ready to enter a lifelong relationship while she still had some youthful exuberance to get rid of. Linda was the sort of woman I had wanted for a helpmate, and she must've known it by now since I'd discussed these very things with her. Was fate giving me just what I wanted? No, I couldn't get my hopes up - it would be too much to hope for. Maybe Linda didn't want to get involved with someone as vulnerable as I was right now. Maybe she didn't go for guys like me at all. Maybe she was a lesbian. Maybe I'd stop trying to predict how our relationship would develop, good or bad! Fortunately, Linda chose that moment to come out into the lobby and bring my dithering to an end. She was gorgeous. She'd washed and dried her blonde- pageboy and the straight golden tresses shone like...well, like gold drawn into shimmering wires. Her face was fresh and clean, without any obvious makeup. Her clothes were subtle and attractive, what little I saw of them before she buttoned up her heavy coat. But most of all, she was in a wonderful mood; it shone from her like heat and light - I was tempted to hold my hands out and warm them against her good spirits. She caught my eye with hers, and something passed between us. I don't know exactly what, but it was discombobulating enough for her to sneak up to me and take my hand. Her words broke through to me: "Are you SURE you're not an epileptic?" We laughed as we stepped out the door into the chill autumn night, and I watched our frozen breath blow away in wisps. "So, do you have a car?" "No, I got my roommate, Bonnie, to drop me off - was going to call her to pick me up." "Oh, good - you've got an escape route." I started for my car, and she followed. "Huh?" I shrugged. "Well, in case things don't go well at dinner you don't have to depend on me or a cab; you can just leave." I caught her smile in the corner of my eye while I unlocked the car. "A little pessimistic, isn't it?" "Hey, I'm an accountant - who's always telling you to prepare for the worst?" "FEMA?" I took a trick from her and stuck out my tongue. We threw our bags in the back seat and got in. "Right. Now what?" Linda looked around the interior. "Well, the stick shift's too tall for me to lean over to you, and the back seat looks too small..." She met my gaze and winked at me. I just shook my head and rolled my eyes. "I dunno, what do you feel like having for supper?" she asked, putting the problem back in my court. I thought the choices over. It was almost half-past eight on a Thursday night; she probably had classes and I definitely had work the next day. "Do you like Chinese?" "Yeah, and I know the perfect place not too far from here." "Well, that's decided then," I said and started the car. * * * * It was a well-coordinated jaunt; the traffic was light, and Linda's directions were clear and given with plenty of warning. To my credit I drove efficiently and with enough grace to follow her directions, easy as they were. We found a parking space just under a block past the restaurant, and walked back to it. It was fairly small - just a dozen booths along the sides and some tables in the middle. There was no maitre'd or anything so we just sat in a booth and shrugged off our coats. At that hour there were few customers - several people sitting alone, and one group of three men discussing something while drinking lots of coffee. Our waiter quickly arrived, we made our orders, and he just as quickly disappeared. "So," I began, at a loss for something to talk about. "Buttons!" Linda retorted with a smile. I caught her drift after a second or two and my smile joined hers. "You're really eager on your psychology studies, are you?" "Yes. The human mind fascinates me - it's like the most complex computer we've ever encountered. There's no real difference in structure between the silicon chip ones we make and the organic ones inside our head." "But there are differences-" "Not in the basic way they're organized; gates and pathways for electrical impulses. What you're thinking is that our PC's are much less..." she floundered for a word, "advanced than our brains. That's true, and they're not nearly as big, either. But our personalities are actually nothing more than a really big set of rules for responding to stimuli - desires, taboos, fears, obligations, instincts - all that is our 'code' as the computer people term it." It was like she'd pulled back the curtain hiding the 'wizard of oz'...I saw how the amazing thing actually worked and was shocked, but also disappointed. "Well, if you put it like that it seems to demean-" "Ah, but what a program! Like I said, the basic building blocks of it are so simple and rudimentary, but that's looking at a tiny part of the system. When you step back it takes on a whole different image...or perspective...ah, I dunno!" Linda looked slightly annoyed at her inability to find the perfect wording. I thought about her statement, and visualized what she described. As I did, an analogous image formed itself in my head. "Say; it's kinda like the pictures in a newspaper." "What?" "Well, when you hold a picture like that under a magnifying glass, you see that it's all made up of nothing more than black dots - big dots to mark dark areas, small dots to show light patches, and no dots for white stuff." "Yeah." She was following me, but hadn't made the jump to where I was leading. "Well, at that level they're simple and basic, right? Just dots. But what happens when you take away the magnifying glass and look at the whole picture? Just what you said, new things appear; three-dimensional perspectives, facial expressions - all that sort of thing you'd scoff at if I said I could use a bunch of dots to convey them." "That's it! I never thought of it like that, but you hit it dead center! Thank you!" She enthusiastically grabbed my hands and held them. I barely noticed that for the passionate gleam in her eyes. "Yes, emotions, reasoning, free will, all this heavy stuff, all of it created in a web of tiny wiring for simple electrical impulses. But take it as a whole, all these little rules and codes, together they make something - no someONE - so complex and adaptable, so fascinating in detail, it's just..." "Amazing," I said, trying to help her complete her thought. She sighed pleasantly (both for her, and for me) and said, "Yes." We were kept from getting further lost in this discussion by the arrival of our food. We began to eat, and after a period of adaptation, continued to talk. About what I'm not exactly certain - to this day I cannot remember, and I think it had something to do with the dainty way Linda ate. Or her animated body language when she talked. Or the laughter in her eyes when I told a joke. I know, I know; I fell in love - it's obvious now, but when it hits you, you just can't see it; like that 'picture' analogy, you're flooded with little dots, and you can't see that they form a heart shape. I'm ashamed to say that Linda had to carry the conversation, for I fell prone to bouts of being mesmerized by her. I'd notice when she stopped - though maybe not right away - be startled and then try to keep up, saying my piece. I think we'd discussed our personal histories - in general, at least - but as I said, I never got a chance to put that stuff into long-term memory. Before we knew it, we'd finished and the staff was making subtle hints they wanted to close for the night. We split the check and got our coats. The weather outside was even colder, without a cloud in the night sky, and the wind enough to pinch at our faces. Without thinking, I put my arm around Linda's shoulders and pulled her close to me. She looked at me with an odd expression, but then wrapped her arm behind my back and nestled her face into my chest. I was pulling out of the parking spot, shifting into second when she placed her hand on top of mine on the gearshift. I paused for a split-second and returned to driving, enjoying her warmth. We didn't talk much; I had to concentrate more on driving than normal, and she must've needed to watch my driving to move her hand in sync with mine. Despite the silence, we were hardly uncomfortable. At least, not until we got to her apartment building. We looked at each other, not knowing what to say - we both knew her roommate was home, and asking her if she wanted to go back to my place seemed...wrong, somehow. I took a moment to look out at the twinkling stars, and the maddened congress of voices in my head made a resolution: "I'd like-" "I guess-" We smiled at each other and apologized in unison. "You first," I insisted. "I was just going to say that this is probably the end of our date; I enjoyed myself, Ted." "Good; I was going to ask you out again." She looked me in the eye, just stared silently for a second, and reached a decision. "I'd like that, Ted." I began to breathe again. "So sometime this weekend?" "Oh, no - I'm going to visit my folks back in Ohio. I'm leaving Friday night and getting back Monday afternoon; yes, I'll miss a couple of lectures but I've got people who will cover that for me, and its been almost a year since I've seen them. It's my dad's birthday." Surprisingly, I didn't feel that disappointed. "Okay, then. Maybe something next week after you get back?" "How's Monday night for you? I don't have any early classes the next day, and my mother can be such a nag - I'd probably need some cheering up." "Okay, Monday night it is, what shall we do then?" "Ah, let's wait and see what kind of mood I'm in. Give me a call..." she started rummaging through her purse, which I stopped by clearing my throat and pointing to the pad and pen I had affixed to the dash. "You really plan WAY too much, Ted." "Hey, it just served its purpose. I can throw it away now that it's paid for itself!" "Fine, fine. Here's my number and the time my flight gets back. Gimme a half-hour to get home from the airport." She punctuated her directions with a sudden peck on the cheek. "Thanks, I had fun." I was paralyzed for a second, and then reached back for her gym bag. "I did too, and I'm looking forward to repeating the pleasant experience. Good night, Linda." "Good night, Ted." * * * * The phone rang twice before I was confronted with a grumpy "Yeah?" I was nonplussed, this sounded nothing like Linda - female, yes, but deeper, and with a hard edge I couldn't conceive existing in Linda's psyche. It took a curt "Well?" to snap me back from confusion, and it occurred to me: this was Linda's roommate! "Ah, sorry. This must be Bonnie. I'm calling Linda. You can tell her it's Ted." "She's not here, Ted." "She isn't? Where'd she go?" "I dunno if I should tell you, but I will: to see her folks." "Yeah, I knew she flew back to Ohio to see her parents for the weekend, but she should be back by now-" "Why? Her flight's not for another hour and a half." "Four? She said she'd be back by two." "Sorry, but four-oh-seven is the arrival time I have on this itinerary here." "Oh." I looked at the slip of paper sitting on my keyboard. "Hah. I'm the one who has to apologize - it says four o'clock here too. I don't know why I thought two-" "Well, thanks for the mea culpa, but do you want to leave a message? I'm a little busy here." "Right, sorry again." I thought quickly, and had a devilish idea. It wasn't easy getting it all worked out with Bonnie (if she's reading this now, I must apologize yet again, and tell her that I hope I hadn't screwed up her project), but before too long we had the message ready for Linda. I thanked Bonnie, wished her well in her work, and heard her give me a terse "Yeahbye" and hang up. * * * * Linda got home at a quarter to five. She lugged her bag through the door and shut it, turning the deadbolt and calling out "I'm back!" "Hey, Lin - gotta message for you!" "Message? Who from?" Linda took her coat off and hung it up. Silence. 'Damn her and her teasers!' she thought with a smile on her face. 'She must be busy, and she's useless to the rest of the world like that.' Linda shook her head, and went to the door of Bonnie's room. As always, Bonnie's back greeted her at the open door. She was working away on her computer - fiddling with one of the CAD programs that Linda had installed for her. This one had a wide assortment of colored spheres on a black background; most were touching and connected in an intricate pattern, but some were apart from the rest, adrift in the black space around this complex molecule that Bonnie was trying to simulate. "Bon? I'm fine thanks, good luck on the cure for cancer, and you said you had a message for me?" "Yeah, shit - where'd I put those notes?" Bonnie rifled through the papers she had piled on her desk. "Right; Ted called at about two-thirty. Got your arrival time screwed up apparently." "Oh! I'll call him...wait - did he leave a number?" Bonnie wheeled around in her chair her mouth set in a sardonic smile. "Hold on Lin; I've got instructions to follow." "First: if it's past four-thirty you won't be able to catch him at work." Bonnie made a show of looking at her wall clock. "Yep, so bye-bye to that number," and she chucked the first slip of paper over her shoulder. Linda darted forward and tried to catch it. "Second: if it's not yet five o'clock, he's probably still stuck in traffic, and he won't be answering his home phone." Another slip went flying away, much to Linda's annoyance. "Third: if the other two aren't answering, you should try his cell phone at this number," and Bonnie handed her roommate the paper. Linda reached over, picked up her friend's extension, and called me. As per the plan, I didn't answer it. "Yeah, Ted - it's Linda and it's four-fifty-two; you called, maybe about doing something? Can you call me at the apartment when you get a chance? See ya." "Ah-hah. Voice mail." Bonnie flipped through a couple more slips of paper, and recited from the right one. "If you get his voice mail, either he's just too busy to answer or possibly physically incapable of calling. If that's the case, you should wait a day for his reply; if he doesn't, you should call the police and report him a missing person." Linda gave her an odd look as she flipped to one last note. "And if you have trouble getting through to the cops, there's probably some serious disaster or incident going on, so then - and ONLY then - you can call FEMA. There! So what the fuck is all this about and why are you laughing like that?" * * * * The date was wonderful! In a fit of egalitarianism Linda picked me up with their car, we went to a franchised Italian restaurant where the food was decent - and the conversation better - and we went off to see...uh, some romance flick. No, I don't remember much of the movie, because reflex put my arm around her shoulders before the previews ended and we spent the entire time - credits and all - leaning on one another. I do remember that the soundtrack was pretty good, if that's any consolation. Besides, what happened on the way home was more notable than a good but predictable screenplay. No, the only thing that 'detracted' from the date wasn't that bad... Linda ran out of gas. It's quite possible when you've got two people using the same vehicle, and thankfully we were only a couple of blocks from my apartment. We hurried pressed together against the bitter wind, and went up to my place of rest. While Linda called Bonnie to tell her what happened, I made us some coffee. We decided it was too cold to go straight back out and get some gas at a station, so we took a breather first. When I brought the coffee back, I'd sat down close to Linda. I swear that this wasn't a conscious effort - but I'm glad my subconscious made me do it. I handed Linda her drink, and noticed that her nose was a bright pink from being exposed outside. "Oh, here let me-" and I moved closer and breathed hotly on her frostbit nose. Yes, it was an extremely silly and pointless thing, but it was a trigger: we looked each other in the eyes, and kissed. It wasn't a 'flail the arms, mash the lips, and fell her like a tree' kiss. The first was just a mutual peck on the lips, as was the second. Having felt each other out, the third was probably medium-pressure, but really long on duration. After an interminable time, we had to breathe, and broke off. I looked at her and my mouth dried out in an instant. She was breathing hard, shoulders rising and falling, and her eyes were afire. The pessimistic planner in me demanded I ask, "Is Bonnie going to need the car early tomorrow?" It took a few seconds for her to digest my question and formulate an answer. (I'm flattered; I didn't think I was that good a kisser.) "No, Ted. Her first class is at four in the afternoon, and my first is at ten ay-em." "Well, we'd better put our coffee down before we burn ourselves." I took the two mugs, put them safely on the coffee table, and stood to take off my coat. When we'd divested ourselves of our outerwear, I took her hand and led her to the bedroom. * * * * We fell onto the bed, kissing each other. My lips moved across her face as my hands stroked her arms and shoulders. I felt my belt buckle tighten, then loosen. I followed suit by undoing the buttons on her blouse. I saw no bra strap in the gap. Pushing the garment open, I revealed her breasts. They were on the smallish side, like beautiful grapefruit halves. Lying on her back, they stood straight, not sagging in any direction. Her nipples were dark brown with a hint of pink, and encircled by tiny areolae. I wrapped my hands around her mounds, leaving the nipples untouched in the vee between fingers and thumb. A light massaging movement made Linda moan. I looked her in the face, regarded her slitted eyes and slack mouth, and returned to her chest. I teased her for what seemed like hours, trailing my fingers over her skin, nibbling at her breastbone, lavishing kisses everywhere except the proud, twin peaks of Mount Tits. I only ended my torture when she grabbed my head and dragged my mouth to a nipple. Then I let her have it; I latched onto that nipple with my lips and sucked; I pinched it ever so lightly with teeth; I flicked my tongue against the tip, then lapped at the entire nipple HARD. And it worked - before long her moans merged together into one long keening, and I felt her body shake under me. I kept up my stimulation all through her orgasm, and when she started to come down I hugged her close, kissing her neck. Her breathing calmed down, and she pushed me back far enough to look at me. "That's never happened before!" "What, never?" "Well, not with just my boobs!" I just batted my eyes coquettishly. "Gosh, y'all - you're too kind!" We laughed for a second, and resumed disrobing. As I slid her skirt down her legs, I noticed a damp spot on her panties. I smiled to myself. Linda pushed me back onto the bed, and exposed my body. She licked at my nipples, and though the sensation was nice we both knew her efforts would not be as well rewarded. She pulled my pants zipper down, and slipped a hand in to search for...something. When she found my semi-hard cock, she smiled at me. "Not like steel - should I feel offended?" I shrugged. "Maybe he was feeling ignored?" She grinned evilly and replied, "I'll fix that!" She made me lift my hips for a second to pull my pants and shorts off my pelvis, and regarded her new patient. "Hmmm, circumcised, average size, fairly clear of hair - do you trim this stuff?" "No. I guess-" I stopped as both her hands grasped me and held me in their warmth. She stroked me gently, watching my groin with rapt attention. I responded my manhood filling with blood, my breath shortening, and my desire rising like water in a boiling pot. I pulled Linda next to me, letting her continue her stimulation, but also allowing me to reciprocate. I licked my fingers and stroked her pussy. The lubrication wouldn't have been necessary - she was hot and slightly damp. I traced the outline of her four lips, avoiding her clit for as long as possible. I never did get a chance to diddle her that night; just as I began to insert a finger into her moist depth, she stopped stroking me and stared at me with a palpable hunger. I almost pounced on her right there and then, but this dammed rational side of my brain insisted I dig out a condom first. I was lucky I still had some from before Becca moved in - and that they hadn't expired (yes, I checked) - else I might've had a mental breakdown that night. Linda took the foil wrapped object from me, and made me enjoy having a condom put on me. It was sweet torture to feel her light touch here and there. Before I knew it, she'd completed her task and pulled me toward her. I carefully entered her, letting her satisfy herself with just the head at first, then a little more, and a little more...before we knew it I was pushing my pubic bone against hers, and my lips were worshipping her face. She took hold of my shoulders and encircled my legs with hers. Then, without a word spoken, she told me to fuck her hard and fast. I complied. We never broke eye contact in that whole time. Her legs had worked their way up to link behind my kidneys, and my knees were almost under her backside, but I only remember looking deeply into her soft brown eyes. And in that time, we knew. We knew every flaw, every ugly secret, every shortcoming the other had. And we'd accepted them in each other. I think she came twice - it may have been only once, just before I did, and the other shiver was for cold - but I had enough reserve to allow "ladies first." Somehow she knew when I was nearing the peak, because she pulled me down and kissed me deeply, just as I let go. I was at peace with the universe; everything was right, perfect and just. I knew this feeling would be momentary, but I promised myself that I would visit this nirvana as much as I could. The woman who brought me here - who had joined me in this place - I would not let her go. We came down and held one another until we caught our breath. I rolled off of her, slipped the condom off and chucked it in the garbage. I used the cloth I put aside for cleanup - hey; proper planning keeps the mood from being broken - and looked Linda in the eye for a second before pulling her into my embrace. We pulled the blankets over us and snuggled in for a longish autumn's nap. * * * * The phone rang, disturbing me from tracking down a $700 discrepancy between what an employee earned and what the company paid them. I saved my progress and picked up. "Baker, Accounting." "Ted? You still alive?" It was Pete, my closest friend, and one to whom I hadn't spoken in over a month. I started guiltily. "Oh! Hi, Pete. What's up?" "My curiosity. Usually around now you've finished moping around about your breakup and you call me to go get drunk. I hadn't heard from you, so I decided to check in on ya. How far off the schedule am I?" Oh, Pete, if only you knew... "Um. That's a funny thing, Pete. I haven't called you in all this time 'cause-" "You went and tore a muscle, didn't you?" "Pete-" He ignored me and ranted on. "Dammit, Ted - I WARNED you not to fuck around. Christ!" "Pete?" "People always say 'don't go for a drive if you're upset' - the same thing applies for weights! How bad is it?" "Pete! I'm fine - I got someone to spot for me that night and I got my arms worked up nicely. I'm uninjured, Pete." Pete grunted whether he believed me or not. "Pete? I met someone. The woman who spotted for me in the weight room." I proceeded to recount the last month of meeting Linda every Thursday evening to work out, and going out on a date at least once a week. I left out our sexual activities, for I'm a gentleman, after all. "Oh." It seemed I had stopped ol' Motormouth cold. "Yeah, Pete. It's pretty serious, if I do say so myself." I began to take a dismissive tone to my friend. "So I'm glad to say I won't be needing your services this time around, so if you could push off, there's a good man!" "But I was right, wasn't I? About getting back into the saddle right away?" His words were spoken with mocking laughter behind them; I could just feel his smug grin staring at me. "Oh, fuck off, you ungrateful prick! You just don't know when you're beaten!" I was having difficulty speaking clearly for all the laughter bubbling up in me. "Stop talking to yourself, Ted - it's a sign of insanity! Admit it - you skipped right over your usual habit of sulking and moping for a month after a breakup and you did just FINE." It took me a moment to think about this. "Okay, you may be right, Pete. I didn't go hibernate this time. But it wasn't because I planned on 'going fishing'; this woman and I just got pushed together by fate. Karma, kismet, God's will, the luck of the draw; call it what you will, it just happened." Pete's tone lost its humor and took a note of quiet respect. "Those are the best kind, man. Take care. So when do I get to meet her?" "Well, you could always meet us at our Thursday night workout-" "No can do - I ended up late for that shift last time; there isn't enough time between when you get off work and when I start." "Oh, sorry to hear it. Ummmmmmm. Maybe we could double date? You seeing anyone?" "Not right now; say, has this Linda got a friend?" I thought about Bonnie. "Um. She does have a roommate; she's studying biochem-" "Ah! My first degree! We should get together." "Er, yeah. She's a little..." I wondered how to describe Bonnie. "Er, a little terse. Every time I've met her, she's been busy studying. Never seems to have much time for conversation." "Heh; must be aiming for pre-med. A gal after my own heart! You should ask Linda to feel her out; even if it doesn't work out, just so I can meet her and watch you two together." "Yeah, alright. We're meeting for dinner tonight; I'll mention it." "Bah, you don't have to make a big deal or anything. Anyway, good to hear you're doing well. We'll talk again soon!" "Right. Thanks, and talk to you soon." * * * * "Hiya." I gave Linda a kiss as I moved to my chair. "Ted, would you be interested in popping up to Canada for the day this weekend?" "Why?" "There's a band Bonnie and I like, they're performing in Toronto. We saw them a few years back when they toured the colleges, and we got hooked. I think you've heard some of their songs on our stereo." "Uh-huh." "So are you interested?" "Well, I like what I've heard, but it's a long drive from Detroit to Toronto." "Four hours both ways, yeah. But you've GOT to see them live; the CDs just don't do them justice." "Yeah, okay. We'll take my car since it's bigger; more comfortable for four people." "Four? It's you, me and Bon." "Isn't she bringing a date?" "Well, she's worse than I am for neglecting her social life in favor of her studies!" I didn't need a red flag waved in my face. "Um, Lin? Would Bonnie be interested in..." I paused, trying to figure out a tactful way of phrasing this; I failed. "Er, a blind date?" Linda looked worried enough for both of them; I love her concern for her friends. "Don't get me wrong; Pete's an old friend. One I haven't seen in oh, about a month." She caught my drift. "Oh! Oh, sorry Ted; I didn't want to come bet-" "Relax! You haven't; every time I go through a breakup he knows to back off from this 'wounded bear' for a while until I'm done brooding; then I go get blind drunk with him. He was just off the mark this time!" "Oh, okay." "Yeah, and he'd like to meet you; check you out, kind of. When you mentioned this road trip and the uneven number of our party, I just thought we could kill two birds. But if Bon's not interested-" "Well, I'll ask her; she's not a nun or anything." "Yeah - oh, Bonnie's planning on medicine eventually, isn't she?" "Yep." I made an expansive gesture. "Well there you go; Pete's already a resident at University - Mercy; they can always talk shop!" "Okay, I'll feel her out for ya." "Thanks, it'll lighten the gas burden, too!" At this point the waiter delivered our food, and I realized Linda had ordered for me. And ordered well. I gave her an admiring look, then started eating. * * * * Linda was right; they were a live-performance band. In this era of studio creations, this was a group that truly shined when they had a real audience in front of them. Pete and Bonnie hit it off well enough on the ride up; as I figured, they spent the time talking biochemistry and medicine - I think Bonnie's found a mentor rather than a boyfriend. As for the concert, I can't put it in words...the closest I can come to it is "Infectiously buoyant". Many of the songs were fast and upbeat, with much of the concert hall standing and dancing in the narrow rows! Linda dragged me up, despite my protesting that I didn't dance. It was no use when Bonnie grabbed my other arm, and the four of us joined a row-long 'chorus line'! I followed the girls' footwork for a while, and realized the moves weren't very complicated; after a couple of songs, I was keeping up ably enough. I *really* enjoyed myself. When the boys changed to their ballads, most people sat down, though some couples tried slow dancing. Linda kept me standing. We hugged each other close for these love songs and sad ballads. One particular one hit me right in the heart and made me tear up - a song about someone worrying about hurrying into love too quickly. As I said, I wept while the vocalist sang, and the lyrics really made me think about what Linda and I were doing. Before the last chorus, I'd come to the decision that unlike the narrator, I *was* "ready to say 'I love you' yet". Before I knew it, show was over, and we were making our way back to the car, arm-in-arm-in-arm-in-arm; four old friends. Bonnie took the return leg (Pete had imbibed at the bar, and I was beat from the drive out and the dancing). By the time we got back to the U.S., we were all showing the effects of a tiring day. We agreed to all crash at the girls' apartment - Pete would take the couch and Linda would share her bed with me. As we undressed, I paused and looked at my girlfriend. My girlfriend. She was beautiful, even when she stumbled getting her skirt off. And despite her appeal to me, I had to ask her: "Hon? Do we...well, do you want to..." "Tired?" "Mmmm-hmmmm," I replied, forcing my head into an approximation of a nod. "Okay, then; we'll actually SLEEP together! We don't have to. I'm rather bushed myself." "I thought you didn't like women in that way?" I may have been tired, but not ignorant of a punny opportunity. "Oh, shut up, lover. I never told you one way or the other; stew on that while you get in here!" I chuckled tiredly, and climbed in bed alongside her. I dunno why I do this - maybe exhaustion clears out all the petty little shit we worry about to avoid the big concerns - but I lay there, holding my darling Linda in my arms, dwelling on the unknown future. "Linda?" "Mmmmm?" "I have to ask you something." My tone must've gotten to her, because I could feel her rouse in my embrace. "Shoot." "Lin, what do you want from me? We both know I'm attracted to you, and why - you're sexy, beautiful, intelligent, caring, funny. You're just what I've been looking for, and don't say you didn't know - we've talked about it often enough. "But though we have talked about you some, I still don't know what you want from life at this point. And neither do I know what you want from this relationship; I've got several different ideas, but I don't know your mind." She pulled back and looked up at me. "Oh, Ted! You think you're just a 'patient' to me, like some kind of project - a lonely, heartbroken man to be cheered up, helped over his loss and sent on his way?" I nodded. "Never. Not in a million years. I won't deny that I thought of you like that at first - I saw you were struggling with something and needed an ear to listen to you. But once I got listening, I fell in love with you! Just like you feel about me; I think you're funny, smart, handsome, very studly," this comment was accentuated by a hand squeezing my cock, "warm, gentle, and full of love. "I love the way you fuck me. I love the way you dance," she cut off my laughter with "even if it was your first time. I love the way you just zone out sometimes when you look at me. I love how you cuss like a teamster when you get behind the wheel, yet remain the most considerate driver I've ever seen. "Theodore Baker, I love YOU, all your strengths and foibles, every trait that makes you unique - all the little dots that make your picture!" We smiled at 'our little analogy'. Then she raised a finger to my cheek and wiped away the tear there. "And I love that I can make you weep like this; it means you love me, too." What could I say? She'd summed it all up in one neat package, and besides - a night like we'd had had given me God's own case of cottonmouth! I just nodded, and pulled her to me for the most loving kiss I've ever given or may ever give. I guess that song - "Fast as I can" - isn't appropriate for us anymore. Fin ============= Author's Postscript: Well, there you go - all you folks who wanted more about Ted & Linda! (I don't know why everyone bitches about getting no feedback; I've gotten plenty from one story! And don't get me started on Dancer's fanmail!) I'd only intended for this to be a one-parter at first, and then detail crept into it until I reached my self-imposed limit of 30kb. (M$ Win's Notepad jams up not long after, and I like its speed and simplicity for reading stories, so...) If people nag at me enough, I MAY do more; but I still have more 'Mikel & Nadine' episodes to work on; the (barely) fictionalized life of Dancer and yours truly. And that sci-fi fanfic I promised I'd write for a friend. And that other story Dancer expressed an interest in. And...but then you get the picture.:) Thanks for reading, and best wishes! empath

SUBJECT LINE: "Handi-Capable" by Dancer (M/F, oral, rom) [1/3] Handi-Capable By Dancer Copyright, 2001 ------- If you are under 18 years of age and reading this, the penguin on top of your monitor will explode in two minutes. Author's Note: The working title was 'Pity', as in a 'pity fuck' but it didn't fit as I wrote on. It came to me when I fantasized about having sex with a guy in a wheelchair. Not truly paralyzed (damaged spine) or an amputee, but a guy who had no real reason to be sitting in that chair. Hopefully, I came up with a logical, acceptable explanation and you enjoy the story. Makes me think of the blind guy with a driver's license - is it in English so other people can read it or in Braille? Then you realize what the fuck is a *blind* man doing with a driver's license?! {Poster's Note: This is the first story of a three-part series. "Fledgling" and "Learning to Fly" are the following two 'chapters'; though my darling wife wrote each as fairly 'independent episodes', you might enjoy it more if you read the series in completion. And remember, even though I - Empath - am the one who posted these stories, my wife - Dancer - is the author.} ============= Handi-Capable He threw the sheet off his legs and looked for his chair. It still sat where he parked it before going to bed. He tried rolling it to check the brakes and its wheels stayed locked. He sat up and pushed his legs over the edge of the bed. His hands grabbed the arms of the chair firmly, then hoisted himself up and into the seat. He bent down and flipped the foot pedals. He lifted each leg and placed his feet on the metal rests. He unlocked the brakes and wheeled himself to the intercom next to his computer. "Hey Nurse Ratchett? Can you come up and help me take a bath?" The woman laughed and the sound crackled over the line. "Sure, Eric, I'll be up in minute." He clicked off the send button and heard her coming up the stairs. His bedroom door opened and she came inside. She smiled and said, "OK funny man, let's get that bath going." She led him into the bathroom and turned on the taps. Eric tested the water and found it warm. He hated taking these pussy baths. He wanted to slip into water that turned his skin red but the doctors said the heat might scald his legs. Nurse Ratchett guided Eric over the side of the tub and waited for him to give the okay. His hands swirled the water over his legs. "I'll be fine, Sheila." She nodded and closed the door behind her. He knew she waited for him in his room, just in case he needed her. Eric hated himself. The car wreck was 15 years ago and his paralysis was his own fault. He remembered the car rolling into the ditch, landing on its roof. He had climbed out through the window and pulled his brother, Doug, and Doug's girlfriend away from the car. Because of that heroic gesture, Eric lost the use of his legs. The doctors performed test after test and found nothing. His brain functioned normally, his neck was fine, his back wasn't broken and the spinal cord was intact. The neurologists told him there was no reason for his legs not to work. When he was by himself, he tried walking but always fell. His legs would not support his weight any more. He washed his lower limbs and crotch, thankful he didn't need a catheter. Typically, his penis had a mind of its own. Eric could get hard but the stupid thing went limp every time he tried to masturbate. He had just worked up the courage to start playing with himself the night of the accident. Doug and his girlfriend, Tami, were taking him to see 'Return of the Jedi' and finding out what would happen to Han Solo filled Eric's thirteen-year-old brain. He was in the back of Doug's '78 LTD and was leaning up between the front seats when he saw a glimpse of Tami's breasts. It was only the curve of the tops but that gave him his very first boner. He'd heard about jacking off from his buddies at school and decided tonight was the night. Then the deer leapt out onto the road. Doug swerved, hit the gravel and the car rolled. Eric never did get to jack off. Eric finished his bath and called for Sheila. She helped him sit on the edge and let him dry off while she found some clothes for him to wear. The faded jeans, socks and black AC\DC concert shirt were laid on the counter and Sheila wrapped her arms around Eric's chest. She lifted him up so he could dry his ass. When he was done, he drew the towel around him and she sat him down. He slipped on the white tube socks first and then the T-shirt. He got his feet and legs into the jeans, then needed some help to pull them over his hips. He didn't bother with underwear since they got in the way when he was taking a leak. "Are you coming down for breakfast? French toast and sausages," Sheila teased. "Nay, I got better things to do." They went to his connecting room. "Beth probably e-mailed me." Sheila chuckled and went down to the kitchen. Eric flipped on his computer and checked his mailbox. Sure enough, she had sent him a couple messages. They'd been 'talking' for over a year and knew almost everything about each other. Beth was a pseudonym for Christi Parks and her first love was KISS, hence the name Beth. They met in a heavy metal chatroom and started arguing over the better band, KISS or AC\DC. Other users told them to move their bickering over to e-mail and the fighting tapered off. Eric recalled the first package he got from Christi. It was her favorite KISS CD, 'Love Gun'. He popped in his stereo and was hooked. The e-mail he sent her right after that was nothing but lyrics from the songs. He snail mailed 'Back In Black' over to her and waited for her reaction. She emailed back that AC\DC was almost as good as KISS. They talked about anything and everything. Eric consoled her when she told him about getting dumped. That e-mail was full of anger: He said I was *fat*! Can you believe that man! I'm not fat; I'm voluptuous! He kisses like a two-year-old anyway. Yuck! Slobbering and trying to stick his tongue down my throat, no thank you! It was one time his cock sprang to life. Christi became more than a friend after that and Eric decided today he'd be honest. He opened her message and read: Hey Eric, how's it hanging? Long and hard I hope <g>. There's a band I know playing over in Grand Falls this weekend. Would you like to met IRL? I'll drive! E-mail me yea or nay. Christi The second message: I'm baaack! The band's Tango and they cover all heavy metal. It'll be kick ass but lonely if you say no. Christi He saved her e-mails and opened his own reply: Christi, I'd love to see you IRL but I gotta get something off my chest. <deep breath> I'm in a wheelchair. I had a car accident fifteen years ago and haven't been able to walk since. Please don't hate me! We haven't sent any pics, so I'll describe myself. 6'2" <standing> or 5'8" <seated>, blonde hair cut short and feathered, blue eyes, 173# and strong upper body. Don't leave me in agony! Email me either way so I know. Eric He clicked on 'Send' and waited. Eight minutes later, (he'd been watching the clock) he got her answer: Eric, how come you waited so long? Chicken shit? Well, I won't hold your handicap (?) against you. I have digital pics of me and I made an attachment of them. One is me in my KISS regalia and the other is me with my Camero. You sound fine but send me a pic of you. What if you forgot to mention your hair-lip?! <jk> Ignore mine and call me. Christi Eric erupted in laughter. That was her best feature - making him laugh. He opened her attachment and let the computer boot up the first picture. It was the KISS one. She was in a black leather outfit, cut low, with a chain belt and full makeup like Paul Stanley. Her face was hard to make out but that outfit clung tightly to her fabulous bod. Her tits practically fell out of the top and he had to wipe the drool from his chin. She was turned slightly, as if caught off guard, and Eric got a nice side view of her full ass. Saving this one on the hard drive, he moved the mouse to open the other picture. This one gave him a good look at her face. She was leaning against the driver's door and wore rolled up denim shorts like Jennifer Grey in 'Dirty Dancing' and a gray tank top. Her brown hair was long and loose. He squinted at the screen to figure out the color of her eyes that were light, either blue or green. Her face was round and a dimple formed in her left cheek as she smiled. The tattoo on her upper arm was a long stemmed rose. Her bare legs were tanned and crossed at the ankles. He was getting turned on and looked at the fly of his jeans. Nothing. Maybe if he got his legs working, his prick would follow. Now he had to find some decent shots of him. He put his mail on hold and went searching through his digital photo album. The vacation his parents dragged him on when they went Florida to see Doug and Tami. He didn't want to go but now was grateful because he had some choice photos to email Christi. The one of him popping a wheelie with his niece, Nicole, on his lap, definitely. He racked his brain for one that showed him without the chair. Daytona Beach! Doug and Tami took him there and he had to leave his chair in the minivan because of the sand. He was laying on a towel wearing a pair of bikini bottoms and looking right into the camera. Eric copied both and made his own attachment to mail Christi: Christi, got some pics. One is me with my niece, Nicole, and the other is me at Daytona Beach last summer. Don't reply, I'll call you in 20 minutes. Eric He closed out Windows and let the screen saver take over. He backed up and wheeled over to his closet to pick out what to wear. Something casual. Eric yelled, "Sheila! I need your help!" The door rattled as Sheila burst through and said, "What happened?" Eric called over his shoulder, "What do you think I should wear? I've got a date this weekend with Beth." He always called Christi by her KISS nickname. "I thought you were hurt." She stood behind him. "What kind of date?" "We're going to see a band over in Grand Falls. Probably in a bar." He pulled down a pair of brown leather pants and a black mesh shirt. "How about these?" "The pants might be too tight. What if you really had to pee? Can you get out of them fast enough?" She had a point but he wanted to look sexy and macho for Christi - that he was a man and not some cripple. "I can put a catheter in..." "No fucking way!" Eric shouted. "Got any other bright ideas?" "What kind of music, heavy metal?" He nodded. "Ripped jeans are a turn on. Got any of those in here?" They found a pair stuffed behind some boxes in the corner. The knees were long since gone and they were faded nearly white. They got tossed on a chair and Sheila left him alone again. The clock on his bedside table read 9.50 a.m. Time to phone Christi. He opened the drawer and pulled out his address book to look up her number. He carefully punched in the numbers and heard it ring...and ring...and ring...and ring. She picked and said out of breath, "Eric?" "Hey Christi, did you get my e-mail?" He twisted the phone cord nervously. "Yeah, and all I can say is 'WOW'! You are one gorgeous hunk of man and I barely noticed the harelip." He giggled. "I've had surgery since then. May I be a total chauvinist pig and say 'nice tits'?" Christi's voice became throaty and she replied, "They're all me, honey. Not one drop of silicone in these 40 C cup babies." Eric groaned and she chuckled. "I couldn't help myself. You just make me want to tease you mercilessly." She paused. "Tango starts playing at nine. Will you be ready by eight?" "Sure. What day are we going?" "They've been booked tonight, Saturday and Sunday. Would tonight put you in too much of a rush?" "Naw. I already picked out what I'm going to wear. How about you?" "I got the perfect outfit." A squeak came over the line. "I sat down on my bed so that noise isn't the phone line. Anyway, I'll wear my good ripped jeans, sneakers and a tube top with a black shirt over the top." "What color's the tube top? Black?" "It's fire engine red. Tell me what you're wearing so I can drool over the phone." "Ripped jeans faded to white and a black mesh T-shirt." All he heard was deep breaths. "Are you still there?" "Hmm-mmm, just getting hot and bothered. I'll see you tonight at eight. Bye." "Bye, Christi," he sighed and hung up. Would ten hours be enough time to get dressed? He snorted at his thought and wheeled downstairs for some food. * * * * * At seven that evening, Eric rolled his chair into the bathroom to brush his teeth and see if he needed to shave. He rubbed his jawline and felt the dark blonde stubble he couldn't see. He'd leave it be and reached for his toothbrush. He squirted some gel on the bristles and went to work. His thoughts filled with Christi as he brushed over his teeth, tongue and the roof of his mouth. He hoped to get at least a goodnight kiss out of her. He rinsed and spat in the sink putting his brush back in the holder on the counter. He wheeled into his bedroom and picked up his clothes for tonight. He threw the lot on the bed and got out of the chair. He sat down next to the clothes and got changed. Rolling around helped work the pants over his hips and he snapped the fly shut. He pulled one leg up onto his knee and slid a pair of tube socks on the foot, repeating it on the other one. The black tennis shoes were at the foot of the bed and he put them on. Lastly came the shirt and he laid back. He closed his eyes and thought of Christi straddling him. Dreamily, he moved his hands to ease her top off and free her breasts. Just as one ripe nipple came to his lips, a knocking on the door brought him back to reality. Sheila called from the other side. "There's some girl here for you! Says her name is Beth!" She cracked the door. "Doing okay?" "Yeah, Sheila, I'm fine. I just gotta get back in that chair." He sat up and maneuvered his body into the chair. Eric rolled himself down the ramp to the front hall. Christi was standing there with her hands shoved in her back pockets waiting for him. "I'm early. I just couldn't wait any longer." She met Eric halfway and kissed his mouth shyly. "Ready to party hearty?" "Definitely," he said and took her hand. Sheila gave her her pager number in case there was an emergency. Christi and Eric left the house and he wheeled to the driveway where her Camero was parked. She opened the door for him and he whistled. "Nice ride." "Thanks. It drives like a dream." He lifted himself out of the chair and into the passenger seat. He helped her fold down the chair and she stowed it in the trunk. She got behind the wheel and fastened her seatbelt as Eric did the same. The motor turned over, growling, and KISS blasted through the speakers. The windows came down instantly as Christi pulled out and headed for Grand Falls. She wiggled in the bucket seat, dancing and singing with Gene Simmons. Eric just watched her with a grin plastered on his face. Damn, she looked hot! Her jeans were good as the rips were located just under her rear pockets and the red tube top enhanced her bust. The black dress shirt was tied loosely at her waist and her hair was fluffed high and held there with hairspray. KISS ended and the strains of Angus Young's guitar filled the air. Soon, Eric was tapping his palm against his thigh and singing out loud. The drive over to Grand Falls took about half an hour. Christi pulled in the parking lot and drove into a free space off the right side of the building. A neon sign flashed a Coors advertisement in front of them. She turned off the car and stepped to the trunk to get his wheelchair out. Eric unfastened his seatbelt and opened the door wide. She unfolded it and checked the brakes. He levered himself in, released the brakes and wheeled to the door. She shoved it open and let him go first. The inside was a little smoky and there were cafeteria style tables set up. Booths lined the walls and they worked their way to a round, scarred table next to the stage. Eric parked and Christi asked, "Do you want a beer or pop?" "Beer's fine." He watched her sashay over to the bar and pay for two longneck bottles. She sat next to him and they watched Tango set up their instruments. More people came in and soon the place was packed. One of the band guys noticed Christi and came over. "Hey Chris." "Hey Tom, gonna play any KISS and AC\DC?" "Shit, girl! Wouldn't be much of party without them." He saluted us and went back to tuning his guitar. Eric leaned close to her ear. "Who was that?" She moved closer and said loudly, "Tom Parks, my brother. Plays rhythm guitar and sings." He nodded with approval and drank his beer. "Mind if I dance tonight with other guys?" When she mentioned dancing, Eric felt guilty but he came back with, "I don't care as long as you dance with me once in a while." She grinned fully and punched his shoulder lightly. The drummer started thumping out a strong beat and Tom took the mike announcing Tango. A cheer went up as the band went into 'Hot for Teacher' by Van Halen and Christi jumped out of her chair. She found some of her girlfriends and began dancing with them. Eric kept an eye on her from his chair and watched the group of women roll their hips and wave their arms in the air. More fast songs filled the air and Christi stayed with her group. They catcalled to a bunch of guys on the far side of the room. The men hit the floor and paired off with the girls. Christi danced with a muscular black who kept groping her rear end. She wiggled down his body and back up with a huge smile. As the first forty-five minutes ended, Tom called out for a slow number and they flowed into 'Beth' by KISS. She came over to Eric and pulled him out on the floor. He tugged her onto his lap and wheeled back and forth as she moved her arms to his neck. Her feet sat on his and she sang softly in his ear, letting her fingers creep into his hair. He stopped moving the chair and put his arms around her torso. The song ended and the band took their fifteen-minute break. Christi and Eric went back to their table. She untied her shirt and dried her face. "I gotta use the can. Do you?" "Not yet," he replied and she got of his lap. His beer was warm by now but he nursed it as he waited. A couple of girls, about eighteen or twenty, came out of the bathroom whispering and pointing to him. Christi came out and overheard them saying, "Yeah he's cute but, Jesus, he's a cripple. Probably can't get it up, if you know what I mean." She leaned into their faces and said, "He gets it up just fine, if you know what *I* mean." She patted her tummy suggesting she was pregnant. The girls stood there shocked and Christi made her way back to him. He moved his head close to hers. "You are mean. I can't believe you did that." "They deserved it." She plunked down and swallowed a drink. "Ahh, nothing like the taste of flat, warm beer." His eyes stared at her as she brought the bottle to her mouth and wrapped her lips around the opening. He said the first thing that popped in his brain. "Am I going to get lucky tonight?" He meant it jokingly but her answer stopped him cold. "Yes." "Oh," he squeaked out. "Do you want to stay, or leave?" "Leave." She led the way to the side door and he rolled along behind like a pull toy. They got to her Camero and he got in. She threw his chair in her trunk and they peeled out of the lot. They drove in silence for a while until Eric found his voice. "Uh, your place or mine?" "What about your nurse?" "I'll give her the night off. And the next couple nights as well." He grinned salaciously and felt the car speed up, eating the miles to his place. They screeched to a stop in the driveway and quickly got him in his wheels. Sheila opened the door and stuttered as Eric told her to get out. "Don't worry, I have some business to take care of. Call me in a couple of days." He slammed the door in her face and left her standing befuddled outside. Christi crawled onto his lap and started touching him all over as he wheeled them up to his bedroom. He shut the door and she got up. "Tell what to do, Eric." She knelt down at his feet and removed his shoes and socks. "I have to get on the bed. Pull the blanket off." She did and watched him hoist himself on the mattress. "Christi, I...I don't know if anything's going to work. It happened when I was thirteen and I never got the chance...The doctors say I'm fine but he doesn't listen to me very well." He weakly patted his fly. "So you're a virgin. Big deal. And as for this guy," her palm cupped his fly and squeezed a little. "I'm sure he'll come around to my way of thinking." "Oh sweet Jesus and all the saints," he said loudly as she unzipped his jeans. She slid her hands over his pelvis and worked his pants off. His cock lay limply in the nest of dark blonde curls. He sat up and jerked his shirt over his head. She played nurse, adjusting the pillows under his head, then trailed a fingertip down from his jaw to his flaccid member. "Are your ready? Then let's begin," she said huskily. She kicked off her shoes and pulled off her socks sensuously. Her jeans were next and her hips swayed as she peeled the denim down her legs. She wore a lacy red thong to match her top and Eric could see a few wisps of pubic hair peeking at him over the top. She crawled in bed and leaned against the oak headboard. "Touch me. I've wanted your hands on me since that first email." He caressed her warm feet and kissed the arches. His hands roamed over her satiny bare calves and creamy thighs. They were long and brown from the sun and he palmed her ass. It was hot and soft and rounded like a heart. She let his face nestle against her womanhood as his unshaven jaw tickled her thighs. He licked under the edging of her underwear and smelled her wetness. He pulled her down, moving his hands across her rounded belly to her full breasts. Her nipples poked through the ribbed fabric and he breathed hotly on each peak. He brought her hand to his mouth and trailed kisses over it, working their way to her lips. She parted her mouth and their tongues tasted and teased each other. They explored every nook and cranny in the hot depths until Eric broke away. He lifted her leg at the knee and placed over his hips. He eased the tube top down, freeing her aching breasts and he drew one blushing tip in his mouth. He sucked, laved and nipped the hard nubbin, then gave the other peak the same treatment. Her lips were slightly apart and she rocked her pelvis along his still soft cock. Christi slithered her crotch to his face, removing her top and asking him to take off her panties. Eric cupped her plump asscheeks and used his teeth, dragging the scrap of material over her mound. He got it down to her knees and she jerked them off, tossing them on the floor. Seeing her naked, Eric noticed that her curves were full, voluptuous, not fat but made for a man's hands to hold. He nuzzled her pubes and she rolled her hips against his mouth. He gazed up into her flushed face and whispered, "I don't know what to do. You're my first." A sensuous smile curved her lips and her body made its way down to his cock. She ran her wet tongue along the length and sucked the tip between her lips. He prayed to any god he could think of: Jesus, Allah, Buddah, Zoroaster, Santa Claus: 'please let me achieve and maintain and erection.' He stared as his cock disappeared in her mouth and, presumably, down her throat. Her head bobbed as she swallowed and sucked him from base to tip. She murmured deep in her throat encouragement and it worked. His prick swelled to semi hardness and her blowjob became better and faster as she ate him up. One feminine hand played with his balls, kneading them, almost pleading his boys to help keep him hard. He was putty in her capable hands and she molded his cock to a full erection with her hot mouth. Quickly, she reversed her position, giving Eric a splendid view of her pussy. The outer labia pulled open to show him her swollen maroon inner lips. Instinctively, he lapped at her juices and felt a hum of delight through his dick. He twirled his tongue along the edge of her vagina and saw a thick, milky cream ooze out. He rubbed her cum over her pussy with his fingers, then sucked the digits. She tasted bittersweet, much akin to chocolate and he moaned. He was about to stick a finger up there when she pulled away. She moaned over her shoulder, "I think I better get you inside before he drops off." She got on her knees and placed his cockhead barely between her inner lips. Eric watched as his prick slid up her cunt as she sat back. He heard her coo as he sank deeply and fully inside that snug pussy. She bounced happily, riding his shaft like a pogo stick. He sat up and leaned against her back. It was slick with sweat and he licked the saltiness from her skin. She brought his hands to her breasts and showed them how she wanted to be felt. He massaged her tits and plucked the hard tips with his fingers. He sank his teeth in her shoulder as his pent- up lust burst forth. He told her how good she felt with her tight pussy milking his cock and how her breasts swelled at his touch. "Eric, do you feel it? Deep in you belly? Is your blood hot and tingly?" she panted. "Yeah, oh Christi, what's happening?" he yelled. Something enveloped his whole body and his legs cramped. Tears ran down his face as he screamed in agony. A blazing inferno galloped through his muscles and he held onto Christi for dear life. He watched with growing horror as his nails bloodied her back, trailing ten gashes over her shoulders down to her waist. His lungs seized and he could not breathe. He threw her off the bed and lost consciousness. The slapping on his cheeks annoyed him and he brushed them away. Someone was calling his name. "Eric?" An angel, perhaps, one who resembled Christi? "Eric, can you hear me? It's Christi. Please wake up! I don't want to tell your folks how I killed you with sex." A voice he didn't recognize said, "You'd have to register your pussy as a deadly weapon." "Eric! You're alive!" He got the wind knocked out of him as she flung herself on top of his chest. She kissed his face everywhere. "Open those gorgeous blue eyes for me, honey." "Do I have to?" It was the voice from before and it took him a moment to realize it was his own, harsher and grittier. "What time is it?" She glanced at the clock. "Four in the morning. You were out for six hours." He pried his eyes open to slits. "Are you okay?" "Yeah but don't ask me who the president is. They say it's George W. but I don't buy it." Her green eyes were red and puffy from crying. He gave her a Mona Lisa smile and murmured, "They're green." Christi grabbed his hair and growled, "You just had some sort of epileptic fit and all you can think of is that my eyes are green?!" He captured her mouth with his and tongued her deeply. She pulled away and chided, "Stop that! I want to know what happened to you." She sat back on her haunches and gestured wildly. "I'm giving the best head in my entire life, on the brink of an orgasm that would register 12 on the Richter scale and my boyfriend decides that is a good time to go into a grand mal." "Aw sweetie, I'm sorry for kidding around. Honestly, I have no clue as to what came over me. I've had every test imaginable performed on me and none of them hinted at seizures of any kind." A worried look crossed his face. "May be I should go to the hospital." "Do you want me to take you, or call an ambulance?" "I've got Doctor Jensen's number here in my address book. We'd better call her first." He sat up groggily and ran his hand through his hair. "I feel like shit and I gotta take a leak." He scooted to the edge of the bed and went into the bathroom. Christi followed him and propped herself against the doorjamb. "Eric, have you noticed anything different about you?" "Like what?" he asked sleepily. "Oh, nothing much. You just got out of bed and walked to the can." She sucked in her cheeks and waited for her words to sink in. With a puzzled frown, he looked at his legs and then at the wall behind the toilet, repeating it several times. His brain was fuzzy but managed to wrap itself around her statement. Slowly, he realized he was doing something he hadn't done since he was thirteen: pissing standing up. "I'm peeing in the toilet." She nodded. "Standing up." "Hmm-mmm." "It's a medical fucking miracle." "A fucking miracle, leave the medical out." "I better call Doctor Jensen." He tapped himself off and went to the phone at his bedside. He dialed her home number and waited for an answer. "Doctor Jensen? This is Eric Sullivan and I have something to tell you. I can walk. What happened?" He flushed and fumbled for the right words. "Straight out, I was on a date and I brought her back to my house. She was...uh, giving me...uh well, a blowjob and I got an erection and we had sex. I had a seizure of some kind and passed out for six hours. Cramping in my legs and I felt on fire. What was I thinking before the accident?" He chuckled and blushed more. "Masturbation. Oh. Yeah, I shoulda told you then, but I *was* thirteen and a little shy about it. I guess that makes sense in a Twilight Zone kinda way. Should I come in later for tests? I can do that. One o'clock this afternoon. Just a sec," he put his hand over the receiver and looked at Christi. "Ask her if we can have sex." "Doc, my girlfriend wants to know if it's okay for me to have sex. Okay, I'll tell her. Bye." He hung up the phone. "What did she say?" "The long and the short of it is: a mental block. Before the accident, I got a peek at my now sister-in-law's cleavage and I got a hard on. I was planning to jack off when we got home from the movie when it happened. Doctor Jensen says my body blocked out my sexual synapses and our activity broke through the block." "That is way fucked up." "I know but it makes sense. My last thoughts were getting off and the shock of the accident sort of blended together to freeze my brain. I get to have a CAT scan at one. Yea." He twirled a finger in the air. "You said you could feel my pussy milking your cock. Was that true or what?" "I dunno. I think my instincts took over and the words just came out of my mouth." He crooked a finger at her. "C'm here." She stepped into his embrace and they French kissed. He ran his hands over her back and felt the dried, bloody scabs. "I'm sorry about your back." "Don't worry about it. I'll get my revenge soon enough," she smirked and raked her nails down his spine. He shivered and picked her up in his arms. "Now what are you plotting?" "I've always wanted to get laid in the shower," he whispered and carried her downstairs that bathroom. The second bathroom had a shower/bathtub and was the one Sheila used when she stayed the night. He let her stand out of his arms and saw her turn on both taps, steaming up the room. "You got the good kind of soap," Christi said and held out a bottle of Dove shower gel. "I really like the shower curtain. Winnie the Pooh and Tigger, Too get my blood pumping. "I'll have you know Nicole gave me that for my birthday this year. Pooh is her idol." She offered her hand and said, "I personally like Tigger." He took her small hand and let himself get dragged over to the tub. "Is it hot enough for you?" Eric didn't miss the double entendre. He stepped close to her and his hand ran down her body, wiping away the beaded sweat. He bent at the knees, his nose tickling her pubes, and tested the water. "Feels great." He pushed the lever to switch the water over to the showerhead and drew the curtain closed. They kissed deliberately before stepping into the spray. Christi had her back to the water and titled her head to wet her hair, the movements of her arms thrusting her breasts out. He tweaked both nipples and heard her groan. He picked up the shower gel and the matching sponge, squirting the white cream all over it. Working up a lather with his hands, he ran the plastic sponge from her neck to navel. The bubbles clung to her tits as she smiled and moved toward him. Her hands held her hair up and he lathered the tender flesh of her back. He saw her teeth bite her lower lip and he apologized for the pain. Her skin was slick as he rubbed her ass, slipping a finger between the cleft of her cheeks. She planted tiny kisses along his breastbone and slung her wet hair over her right shoulder. It was her turn to bathe him and she squirted a dollop of soap in her palms, massaging the liquid to a rich lather. She went straight for his cock and worked the suds along the length. Her hands soaped his balls and he smiled at the sensation of her slick fingers fondling him. "Eric? I'm having second thoughts about doing it in the shower. Maybe we better stick with a bed for now." He pouted. "Okay, if I *have* to." They washed each other's hair and rinsed off. He drew the curtain aside and snatched a couple towels off a nearby rod. Christi dried her body and began rubbing furiously at her long hair. "This going to take forever to dry. I don't suppose there's a blow dryer around here?" "There's one under the sink." He got, held the towel to his crotch and opened the cabinets. "Here it is." A small blue Conair dangled from his grip. He plugged it in the socket and flipped the switch. She let him dry her hair, combing out the tangles with her fingers. After ten minutes, she was satisfied with the results and traced his mouth with a curling lock. The hair brushed its way along his chest to his belly. She looked up at him with a coy smile. "Don't you want to play with me?" He followed her gaze to his soft penis and she moved to touch him. He stayed her hand; "Let me." and he stroked his cock, using her hair as a barrier between his hand and cock. Blood pumped through his veins and filled his prick, hardening and lengthening it to about seven inches. He grabbed her butt and lifted her against it, stroking his hard on along her damp labia. They made their way to the nearest bedroom, Sheila's, and he tossed her on the soft mattress. She leaned on an elbow and touched her mound. "Are you going to ravish me, Eric?" "Hmm-mmm," he mumbled as he crawled on top of her. He played with her slit, making it wet and ready for him. "You'll have to pull out and cum on my belly," she told him as she tapped his skull. He looked at her with glazed eyes. "Eric, cum on my belly. I don't have any protection against getting pregnant. Are you hearing me?" "I hear you. Pull out and cum on your tummy. Got it." He parted her thighs and knelt, rubbing the head over her pussy. He struggled to remember to breathe as her juices drenched his cock and his heart raced. She lifted her knees more and Eric sank inside. His body shuddered at the hot, tight muscles caressing his prick. "Oh shit," he cried and pulled out. His cum shot out of the hole and splattered all over the place: her pubes, the sheets, his thigh. Christi came to his rescue and quickly clamped her mouth over the exploding cock. She drank his cum down, sucking on his head and pumping her fist over the length. He felt like she was sucking the life out of him through his cock and kept chanting 'shit'. Her pink tongue lapped up the sticky fluid as his flagging dick slipped out of her mouth. "Um, I don't think I got out in time," Eric whispered. She propped her chin in her hand. "Too late now." He petted her soft hair. "Are you pregnant?" "I won't know for a few days, silly." She touched his chin with a finger. "I think you just need practice. I'll bring over some of Tom's porno movies and you can learn from the masters." Her eyes narrowed. "Do you hear that?" He listened and barely heard his name. He scrambled out of bed and whispered, "Fuck! It's my mother! Shit!" The voice got closer until it was right outside the closed door. He grabbed a pillow to cover his nudity and hit the opening door. "Eric, are you in there?" his mother called and forced the door a few inches. He shoved with his butt. "Yeah Mom, but I'm busy at the moment." She pushed back. "Sheila called and said you threw her out of the house. What exactly is going on in there, young man?" she demanded. "Nothing," he called and Christi choked on her laughter. "Is there a girl with you? Sheila said you came home with some girl." His mother pushed harder against the door, forcing it open even farther. 'Help me' he mouthed to Christi. She jumped out of bed and threw her weight on the door. "Is Dad with you?" "Yes, he's here, but I want to know what's going on!" Eric heard his father talking his mom. The weight left and the two relaxed. "Eric, it's your father. What's going on?" Eric motioned for Christi to back off and he opened the door a crack. He peeked through the opening and said, "I brought my girlfriend home, *hint*, *hint*." His dad's eyes widened as the implication came through. "Are you standing up?" "Uh-huh. It's a long story. Can you distract Mom so we can get dressed?" His dad nodded and left them alone. Eric locked the door and turned to Christi. "I have no idea how to tell them." She shrugged her shoulders. "Just say, 'Mom, Dad, this Christi Parks.'" He hit her with his pillow. "That's not what I meant and you know it." "Tell them that the stimulation of the evening caused a cure. You're dad knows what we were doing and he can figure out a way to tell your mom. Or better yet, let the doctor give a long explanation filled with medical jargon." He laughed. "Mom's a bit thick-skulled. You have to be blunt for her to understand." He looked around the room. "We need to put some clothes on. Sheila's bathrobe is hanging on the back of the door. You can put that on and I'll just wrap a blanket around myself." She went to get the robe, put it on and giggled at Eric. He wore a red and white checkered throw like a Scottish highlander. "All hail, Caesar!" He grimaced at her. "Ha-ha, you're such a riot." They held hands as Eric led her out the door to find his folks. Mom and Dad were in the living room sitting in separate chairs. Christi headed for the couch with Eric in tow. She drew her legs up under herself and looked at Eric beside her. "As you guys can see, I'm walking again." Mom piped up. "That's wonderful! How did it happen?" "This is Christi Parks. She's my girlfriend and we came home from a dance tonight. Uh, I got stimulated from our kisses and my legs started working." He left out a lot of what really happened but he just couldn't tell his mom Christi's magic pussy lifted his paralysis. His dad rolled his eyes. "Well, hi there, Christi. What do you do for a living?" "I edit manuscripts for Tower Publishing." "You must have such fun reading all those stories." "Not really, Mrs. Sullivan. I work with navigational charts mostly. They're pretty dry reading." "I love Nora Roberts myself." Christi nodded with a plastic smile on her face. Dad saved her. "Have you talked to Doctor Jensen about this development?" "Yeah. I phoned her a while ago and she's got me scheduled for a CAT scan later today at one. I'll probably have to stay a few days for more tests. Yuck." He stood up and told his son, "Eric, we're going to go home now. You get some sleep and give us a call if you need a ride." Eric relaxed. "I will. I think I'll get a ride from Christi though." He walked his parents to the door and said goodbye. He came back to the living room and dropped next to her. "Thank god that's over with. I thought Mom would grill you more than she did." She yawned and stretched her arms above her head. "Me too. Man, I'm beat. Can I crash with you?" "I was planning on waking up with my arms holding you." They brushed lips and stumbled their way to his second floor bedroom. They snuggled up under the covers and he held her to him, front against front. He tucked his left arm under the pillows and caressed one of her full asscheeks in his right hand. In turn, she threw a leg over his hip and nuzzled her face in the hollow of his throat. They drifted to sleep that way. ------- {Poster's postscript: If you liked this story, there are two more episodes detailing the lives of Eric and Christi: "Fledgling" and "Learning to Fly"; they should be available at the same time as this story. There's also a custom around here to send a 'thank-you' email to the author if you like a story. Sadly, Dancer is offline, but you may send your compliments to the address given on the "From:" line - I'll pass your kudos on to her.}

Author: Bulgroz the Third Title: The Adjusters #9 - Delta Iota Kappa Keywords: MF, mc Posted: September 2, 2010 Edited: March 24, 2011 The Adjusters #9 Delta Iota Kappa The restaurant was quiet, the lunch rush having come and gone, and Serena, Jenn, and Daniel were idling with tea and desserts before taking on the afternoon. They were talking about the NADA party of three days earlier, Daniel still reeling from the whole experience. "I asked a med student friend of mine yesterday," said Serena, "and what you described sounds like a stroke." "Marjorie had a stroke?" "That's the most likely thing, he said. It happened without warning, yes?" Daniel nodded. "Yeah, just before... well... as she was about to... well... sit on Radhu." "Those little fucks," growled Jenn. "Those NADA fucks. Explain to me why we're not sicking the cops on them? They tried to mutilate Radhu, for fuck's sake!" "I talked to the cops, and they did send someone to investigate, but no one's talking. More to the point, no one who was at that party is saying that anything like what I described happened. It's my word and Radhu's against everyone else's, and since Radhu was not really hurt, there's not a shred of evidence backing us up. And the way Radhu's been acting since the incident, well, it's not lending him any credibility. If only I had snapped some videos or something, but no." "So they're just going to get away with it?" Jenn was incensed, had been for the past two days. She had taken it upon herself to care for Radhu, who was recovering from the ordeal in his apartment. Physically, he was fine -- a few bruises from the beating he had suffered when he was jumped and captured, all healing nicely -- but mentally he was a wreck. Daniel could commiserate. Had he been that close to being horribly castrated, he probably would have flipped out too. The doctor had prescribed narcotics, with the view that the main thing that would help him was rest, but Jenn had reported that even through the drug haze Radhu's sleep was agitated, and he was suffering from nightmares. "Well, the cops are going to keep an eye on the place," said Serena, "and I managed to convince my editor at the Daily to do a bit of investigative reporting on NADA. So with luck, we can expose them for something, if not specifically for what they did to Radhu." Jenn looked barely mollified by that statement, but did not continue. "Meanwhile," continued Serena, "we seem to have lost Marjorie again." "That same guy was there, though, the guy from the alley. Not sure what it means. He's the one pimping her out?" "Maybe. And what's the story with those medallions?" "Yeah," added Jenn. "That was creepy." "I don't know," said Daniel. "I think it was just a gimmick, but no one's talking." "You said you'd talk to your friend Cindy about it. Did you?" asked Serena. "Yes, today, in class. She said she had no idea what I was talking about -- she has no recollections of medallions, or anything funny going on. She said that NADA asked her to be a waitress at the party, and help with the entertainment. I didn't even bother asking her about boinking the guests, her or the other girls. Frankly, she sounded so convincing that she made me doubt my own sanity." "But you were there," said Serena, "and you saw what happened, what they did. Even if they deny it, it doesn't change the facts." Daniel shook his head. "Everyone seems to be acting like absolutely nothing weird was happening there, and they're pretty adamant about it." "Wait," interrupted Jenn. "Was that Cindy from class? Blonde, short-skirts Cindy?" "Yup." "Wow! And... did you...?" "No! Of course not!" "Fine, fine... just checking." "At least we now have another venue of investigation," mused Serena. "We can try to find out who the girls worked for. Cindy told you that NADA asked her to help them out. What about the other girls? If we can find out who supplied their services..." "Could be the same guy that sent Marjorie to visit Lake, our drug-dealing friend." Serena nodded. "Our elusive Snowman. Might be. By the way, I called him a couple of days back, at the number that Lake gave us, left a voicemail. Told him that a friend of a friend game me his number, that I wanted to host a party and was looking for some entertainment, and was told that he might be able to help me out, and that I was to ask for MD." "You think he'll bite?" "Who knows? Meanwhile, I have to look into that frat again. You said every waitress there had one of those charms bracelet, right? Can't be a coincidence, that. It's time for me to confront those friendly folks at Delta Iota Kappa. Jenn, what's wrong?" Jenn had made a face at the first mention of the fraternity. "Sorry," she said. "Guess I'm still wound up because of what happened to Radhu and my emotions are just a bit close to the surface. I've been having a few... issues with that frat, lately." "What do you mean?" Jenn looked at Daniel. "You remember that guy, Biff, we met in the Quad a few weeks ago?" How could he forget? Jenn, playing out one of his fantasies when he used his last card from their mind-control game, had been making out with this guy Jackson from the frat when another frat brother, Biff, had interrupted them by coming on to Jenn in a fairly rude manner. "Well," Jenn continued, "He's been following me. At least, I've seen him around a lot more, and he's often looking at me." "Maybe you're just noticing him more because now you know him. I mean, you realize that there are many boys that look at you throughout the day, don't you? You're kind of beautiful, love." "Maybe, but I don't think that's it. It's the way he looks at me -- makes my hair stand on edge. Trust me, a girl can sense these things. There are different kind of looks, and some just make your skin crawl." Serena nodded in agreement, and grabbed Jenn's hand and squeezed it. "And then there was this morning," Jenn went on, her jaw setting, "after my Modern Novel class. He was waiting for me outside of the classroom. He had this cocky look on his face. I was with a friend, and when he made a restroom stop, Biff came out of nowhere. He put one of his big hands on my ass and squeezed. I turned around to tell him to fuck off but he towered over me and I stepped back until my back hit the wall. He put his hand by my face and I tried to slap it away but he just grabbed my wrist and pinned my arm above my head. I started to scream but his other hand clamped itself on my mouth. I was trapped. And there was no one around. Biff was leering at me, and I remember thinking that it was good that both of his hands were busy because otherwise he had a look in his eyes that spelled out quite clearly that he would have liked nothing more than run those hands all over me. "And then he spoke, his voice low, almost a growl. 'You left in a rush last time, doll, before we could have our fun. A shame. We could have had a good time, you and I. You are the most beautiful girl I've seen on this godforsaken shithole. Don't worry though, we'll have another chance. Before too long, I promise you, I'll get to know all the nooks and crannies of this perfect little body of yours. And you'll beg me, I swear, you'll beg me with your legs spread wide to stretch out that little cunt of yours. You'll see. You'll be my slut, I promise you. And you'll love every second of it.' He leaned down as if to kiss me, and I was trying to find the right angle to slam my knee between his legs when my friend came out of the restroom and jumped on Biff, who had no difficulty pushing my friend back, but I did manage to scramble away. Biff pointed a finger at me and told me 'You'll beg me to fuck you, doll,' then he laughed and left." Daniel and Serena were shocked silent at the story. They both crowded around Jenn, who looked vaguely upset. "Jenn, my god..." "I'm okay," she dismissed Daniel's concern with a wave of the hand. "I mean, it was scary, but there was no real danger. Although I think I'll be a bit more systematic about carrying my pepper spray from now on." "Fucking jerk," said Serena. "You want me to go beat him up?" "Hey, that's my line," said Daniel. "You can hold his arms down when I kick him in the nads." "Let's go then." "It's okay, guys, let it go. But thanks." Serena made a face, then pulled out her notepad. "Biff... Biff from Delta Iota Kappa. Why does that name ring a bell?" She thumbed through her notes. "Ah, here we go. Biff Cusker. A junior. And cousin to Kevin Cusker, president of Delta Iota Kappa. So that Biff guy is well connected. Perhaps it may be worthwhile to ask him a few questions while we're crushing his nuts." "He doesn't strike me as the type to have answers, at least not any that aren't grunts." "Bet he would know how best to get in touch with his cousin, though. Just something to keep in mind, it's all I'm saying." Jenn looked at her watch. "Right. Yoga starting in fifteen minutes. Just enough time to get there." She turned to Daniel. "Catch you at home later? Next lunch's on me." She kissed him, waved goodbye to Serena, then left in a hurry. Daniel, as was his habit, watched her walk away. "Ah... love... ain't that a beautiful thing," mocked Serena. "So what's with this Biff guy?" "What do you mean?" "You reacted weird, that's all." "He practically threatened to rape her!" "Right. So why did you look guilty?" "Just drop it, okay?" "Fine. Watch me drop it. Plump. On the floor. So what about you two then? Talked about next year's plans yet?" "What's with the nosiness today?" "Occupational hazard. So?" "Do you see me asking you all sort of personal questions?" Daniel took a mock-interviewing tone. "So, Miss Banks, have you shagged anyone lately?" "Sunday. Nice thick cock, too, the kind that when he's fully inside you, you can't breathe." "Fuck, I don't need to know this --" "Fuck indeed. Stamina of a long-distance runner. Loves to take me from behind, says he really enjoys the view. And we actually talked at some point. Might be a keeper. Any other questions?" Daniel sighed in defeat. "We're set to talk about it, Jenn and I, this weekend. I'm taking her out to Da Maurizio." "Wow, fancy." "Well, I figured that we'll make it a celebration. She's going to get her scholarship, and I'll be with her in Austin." "That's amazing! Oh, I'll miss you guys so much!" "Come to Texas too, then. The more the merrier." "We'll see. Did you get the job then, the one you were talking about?" "The Institute for Democracy. I talked to them -- they like me, I like them, and I'm still on the fence. I may want to take a break for a bit and figure out what I want to be when I grow up." "Cheers to that." "Huh, Serena? You very busy right now?" "Not really, why?" "While we're downtown, there's something I'd like you to come see with me. I need a girl's opinion on this one." * * * The Delta Iota Kappa fraternity house was a large two hundred years old mansion dominating Fraternity Row, set back from the street, and protected by large oak trees that both shielded the plan and gave it an air of grandeur. Inside, the original interior had given way several decades earlier to a layout designed to accommodate several dozen students living together. While the ground floor had remained essentially unchanged -- a grand ballroom, some living space, and an insanely large kitchen -- the upper floors had been redivided with smaller rooms for housing brothers, as well as offices for official fraternity business. It was in one of those offices, the one assigned to the fraternity president, an elected position disputed every two years, that Kevin Cusker could be found that day. The young president, a graduate student in cognitive psychology, was reclining in his oversized chair behind an oak desk rumored to have belonged to the founder of the fraternity. "Oh, that's very nice... Come on, you can take a bit more in. Yes, oh yes... just like that." Between his legs, a blonde girl, fully decked out in her Darnell Mountain Lions cheerleader uniform, was lavishly sucking his cock, bobbing her head up and down and taking a bit more than half of the shaft into her mouth on each downstroke. Her blonde hair, gathered in a long ponytail behind her, swayed with every thrust of her head, a sight Kevin found fascinating. He stared down at the girl's chest, still covered by her sweater bearing the logo of the school's football team, and marveled at the girl's shape. She had the classical cheerleader's body: tall, with long gentle curves that lead to two long legs that looked perfect in that diminutive skirt her cheerleading team wore. Legs that had fueled many a student's fantasy over the past year. Yes, she had been a good choice. And her blow job skills were coming along nicely, too. He moaned as she sucked on the head of his cock particularly hard. Coming along very nicely indeed. He toyed once again with the idea of having her strip and reveal that incredible body of hers, and taking her, but he reminded himself of exactly why she was here. Besides, she looked good kneeling between his legs, and he was greatly enjoying her oral skills. The charms bracelet on her wrist caught the light as she jacked him off in time with her sucking. The door to his office opened, and Kevin felt a pang of annoyance. Only two people entered his office without knocking. His thick cousin, Biff, and Doctor Cargyle. Since Biff usually betrayed his presence with a heavy footstep and overbearing physicality, Kevin had to assume that it was the good doctor dropping by for a visit. Good timing, he thought, putting his hands on the blonde cheerleader's head and guiding it further down onto his cock. Her mouth was warm and wet, and what she was doing with her tongue was fantastic. "I see you're busy," said the doctor. "Should I come back later?" "It's quite all right, please come in. I'm just testing out this girl's programming. She's good. And a looker, too. A good find." "If you say so. I just work on them. I don't do recruiting." Kevin sighed. The doctor could be touchy at times, and this sounded like one of those times. He pressed on the blonde's head to push his cock further into her mouth, and he could feel her gag as the cock hit the back of her throat. "Of course, doctor, of course. Tell me, how is the girl doing, Marjorie?" "She's not doing well. I hate to say I told you so, but frankly, I told you so. She was not ready. She wasn't ready when you started sending her out on assignments, as you call them. And she wasn't ready when you sent her to that NADA thing. Look, I'm only now starting to understand how to keep a subject activated for prolonged periods of time, and while Marjorie was an excellent subject under lab conditions, she wasn't ready for unsupervised long-term activations. She had a psychotic episode. She's sedated now, and resting, but I don't think she'll ever be the same again. She may never be able to function, period. If she even wakes up." "So is she going to be stark raving mad, or just a vegetable?" "Either's a possibility at this point. Or anything in between." "Well, worse come to worse, I have some contacts that are always looking for girls and that don't really care that much about their mental health, or whether they're awake or not for that matter. We'll just have to find other subjects for your experiments." Doctor Cargyle shook his head. "As long as you promise me that you won't send them out there. I'm telling you what I told you then, now with evidence in hand: it is a bad idea. Perhaps one day, with enough research, but not now. I mean, already peddling the girl for payments and favors was risky --" "Doctor, you made your objections abundantly clear at our last meeting. As I told you then, the frat voted --" "Bull. The frat does what you want it to do, Kevin. The brothers are eating out of your hand. Dammit, my involvement here was supposed to be kept low profile. I can't afford to be exposed. My former employers are not the most understanding of people." "Your former employers don't know where you are, doctor. And this is indeed a low profile operation --" "The bracelets, sure, that's as low profile as such things can be. When we program a girl for use by the frat brothers, at least, only frat brothers can activate them. And the brothers are more or less sworn to secrecy. But those quasi-abductions like the Marjorie girl, or the trick with the medallions at that NADA thing, or what you did to that police officer, that's stupid, and dangerous. It's bound to attract attention." "It is lucrative though, and in the case of the police officer, good protection. The NADA folks paid very good money for the service of the girls that evening." "Bull again. You're not hurting for money, not to the extend of risking attracting the attention of my former employers." No, thought Kevin, it wasn't a money thing. The blonde cheerleader was still dutifully sucking him off, saliva dripping on her chin, totally absorbed in her actions, oblivious to the presence of the doctor. He motioned to her to make less noise, but to continue her ministrations. At least, it was not a money thing for him. But he had a constituency to consider. His fellow brothers had elected him as president on his strengths as a purveyor of easy pussy. That was the blunt truth. When the doctor had shown up on campus almost a year ago, on the run from his former company and looking both for a place to hide and to continue his research, Kevin had seized the opportunity. He had agreed to hide the doctor at the frat house and treat him as an esteemed if elusive guest, and to let him set up a lab in the basement, in exchange for using some of the technological know-how of the good doctor to program girls to make them available to his frat brothers. That platform got him elected as president, and he was keen on preserving it. His brothers, in recent months, have felt there was more opportunities to be had with the tricks that the doctor had brought with him, and while Kevin had to veto their most outlandish schemes, he also had to let them have their way once in a while. The idea of turning a girl -- Marjorie -- into a whore for the frat was such an idea. There was probably some suitable quote on democracy and compromise he could use here, but it didn't come to him. "I mean," continued the doctor, "it's bad enough that I had to go out there and keep an eye out on that Marjorie girl myself and risk exposure, but that reporter, Serena Banks, is hot on her trail. She called me a few days ago, did you know that? She's trying to set up MD as entertainment to a party. How she got my number is anyone's guess, but since she used my Snowman monicker, I guess someone that hired MD must have talked." "Serena Banks? I know that name. She's been sniffing around the frat for a while now. And she's also the one you told me ran after Marjorie at the Spirited Flesh a couple of weeks ago?" "Yes. And it turns out she's friends with those guys that were nosing around the NADA party asking about MD. She's going to be trouble." "And you said she got in touch with you? Trying to set up a little evening with MD? Perhaps it is time to accommodate Miss Banks. Is she cute?" "Let's say that she would certainly please certain members of the fraternity." "Is there anything you can do to help make sure that Miss Banks stops looking for her friend? Then Miss Banks gets a little adjustment and a shiny charms bracelet, and the fraternity gets a new toy to play with. And you get to do some research. Everybody wins." Doctor Cargyle raised an eyebrow, and mused. "Perhaps I can try some selective memory elimination and implantation... There was this one technique that I was hoping to test..." Kevin moaned as the blonde cheerleader at his feet, eyes tearing up, managed to push the head of his cock into her throat for the first time, and the sensations on his cock were overwhelming. Soon, he thought, she'd be able to swallow any cock as deep as needed, a skill he knew was highly praised by his frat brothers. She was a fast learner. "All right, doctor," Kevin interrupted, returning his attention to the man in front of him who was still rambling about memory erasure. "I'll let you work out the best way to deal with the Banks girl. In the meantime, I have a present for you." Much to his chagrin, he pulled the cheerleader's head off of his lap. "Trish," he addressed the girl, "please go stand by the couch." The cheerleader nodded, saying nothing in response, and only stood and walked to the designated spot. The doctor followed her with his eyes, not unappreciative of the young girl's beauty. Her school sweater was tight, certainly, and her cheerleading skirt was short and exposed her delicious long legs, but it was the heels that clinched it, since cheerleaders rarely wore spike heels quite that high. They did wonder for her legs, though. She stood at attention, head held high, utterly calm. The doctor was running his eyes up and down her body. "As I said, doctor, this girl is a present for you. My brothers and I wanted to show you how much we appreciate your contribution to our fraternity during the last year. And we figured what better way to do so than by helping you indulge one of your fantasies?" The doctor turned his head to look at Kevin, his eyes trailing just a fraction of a second behind as if not wanting to leave the girl. "You mean?..." "Yes, she is a virgin. From what we've managed to gather, she was saving herself for marriage, a rather quaint idea. Quite religious, although I expect that will change in the coming years. We caught her at just the right time." "And she has been programmed? Well, I guess she has, otherwise she wouldn't be here, would she?" The doctor looked down and saw the silver charms bracelet on the girl's wrist. "Funny, I don't remember programming her." Kevin shrugged. "We do have a couple of smart folks here with us. And they were willing to pull some overtime to help figure out a way to thank you. So they took care of the programming. Although to be honest, I'm not so sure the programming's any good, so you'll probably want to check her out before we send her out there. But right here, right now, she should be fine. I was testing her oral skills just now. She's pretty naturally talented." "How did you know?" "How did I know that you have a -- shall we say -- thing for virginal young things? People hear stuff, remember stuff." He shrugged again. "And that's not it, is it? There's more. So we've also thrown in a little something special for you. Trish," he said, addressing the girl, "open your eyes to your dick brother." The blonde girl did not change her position, still at attention in the middle of the room, but her eyes now showed what could only be described as panic. The doctor noticed immediately. "Wait, you let her be aware of her actions?" "But her body still reacts to the programming only, and not to her will, yes indeed. It took some work, but the guys figured out a way to do that." "Mucking about with someone's brain is not trivial, you know that. Those guys of yours might have done irremediable damage to this girl." "Well, if she's broken beyond fixing, we can give her the same treatment that awaits the Marjorie girl." "You callousness towards human life would have made my former employers proud, you know." Kevin smiled easily. Whatever moral qualms he had were thoroughly compartmentalized. "Just enjoy your gift, doctor, and let's save the ethics debate for later, shall we?" "Fine. Do you mind if --" "Please, go ahead." Kevin gestured to the blonde cheerleader. "Trish, you will obey the good doctor like you would me. Doctor, she's all yours. Would you like me to leave?" "No need." The doctor stood and slowly walked towards the blonde girl who was still standing motionless, with a frightened look in her eyes. He ran his hand down the side of her face, pushing a strand of hair and hooking it behind her ear, then ran his hand down to her chest, caressing the girl's breasts through the sweater. He slid one hand under the sweater to squeeze the ripe flesh directly. Kevin knew she was not wearing a bra. The doctor locked his eyes on hers, wanting to catch every nuance of her expression. He smiled when his hand trailed down to her legs, sliding up the inside of a thigh and pulling her short skirt up as his hand found her pussy unobstructed by any panties. He ran his finger through her slit, then pulled it up and showed it to her. "You're wet," he whispered. "Your body knows what's what, even if your mind doesn't. Don't worry, I'll be gentle. Who knows, by the time we're done here, you might even discover you like sex." He looked at her a moment longer, then gave her a kiss on the cheek and told her to service him. Trish moved then, and quickly grabbed the doctor by the head and pulled her lips up to his and kissed him -- a ferocious, hungry kiss. He responded in kind, wasting no time to reach down, lift her skirt again, and this time fondling her ass, round and soft and very receptive to his caresses. Kevin, from behind his desk, looked at the proceedings with an interested eye. His cock was still hard, and he hoped the doctor might invite him to join in. Trish had broken the kiss, and was now pushing her body up and down against the doctor, looking for all the world like a stripper against her pole. She was making little cooing noises, and Kevin was once more amazed at how the technology that the doctor had brought with him, courtesy of his former employers, could so effectively rewire a human brain so that it acted so against its own volition. Here was this girl, by all accounts prude and raised to believe that anything sexual with a man who was not her husband would earn her a permanent vacation in the pits of Hell, yet here she was rubbing her cunt against a stranger, about to lose her virginity to him, and looking nothing less than perfectly eager. Well, except for the look in her eyes, thought Kevin, shaking his head to himself. Well, if that was part of the doctor's twisted fantasy, who was he to judge? Come to think of it, for a man whose research revolved around the notions of will and identity, that his fantasy life would involve subverting those same notions was hardly surprising. Before him, the doctor had made his way to the couch lined up against one wall of his office. He was stripped down to only his shirt, and sported an impressive erection. He was sitting down, his legs spread, and he motioned for Trish to strip, a hand on his dick. Trish complied with a smile. She shimmied out of her sweater first, and the doctor and Kevin drank in the view of her large breasts bouncing around, unfettered by any constraint. The skirt she had on was much less problematic; she simply unclipped the side and it fell at her feet, leaving her completely naked but for her heels. The doctor just admired her for several seconds, and Trish obliged, thrusting a leg forward and arching her back to emphasize her chest. "Fuck you're beautiful!" said the doctor, an uncharacteristic rumble in his voice. "And you're sure you're still a virgin?" Trish replied in a sing-song voice befitting a cheerleader. Kevin wondered if the boys had programmed that in too. After all, he knew that Trish was an English major, and supposedly a fairly good one at that. "Yes, sir. I've been saving myself for marriage. The body is sacred, and a gift to us from the Lord." "Yours certainly is. But before we argue theology, how about some oral worship?" He reclined on the couch, legs spread, his dick hard and pointing straight up. Trish went down to her knees in front of the doctor, and repeated her earlier performance when Kevin was the target of her skills. She once again started slowly, licking the head of the cock bobbing in front of her, one of her hands jacking up and down the stiff shaft, before taking the head between her lips and sucking it in. Before long, Trish's head was bobbing up and down, taking most of the doctor in her mouth, her ponytail bouncing rhythmically. The doctor was moaning softly, slumped into the soft cushions, his eyes closed. Kevin, still sitting behind his desk, his own dick clamoring for attention, looked at the doctor enjoying his foreplay, and noted how silent he was. Ah, old people, he thought. Always kind to women. Kevin shifted his gaze from the doctor's face to Trish, still busy sucking, completely oblivious to the world. Like all the other girls, she had been programmed to sexually satisfy the brother who uttered her trigger sentence, while still retaining enough of her personality to avoid her simply acting as an automaton, a robot. It was actually fairly simple, all things considered, to wipe our someone's mind and have them blindly follow commands, the doctor had explained to him, but aside from the fact that they were then nothing more than flesh Barbie dolls -- pretty but ultimately somewhat unsatisfying -- they also tended to be accident prone and utterly incapable of the simplest reasoning tasks. The skills of the doctor lay in his knowing how to retain enough of the higher-level functions of the brain so that the programmed person remained able to interact and engage and reason -- able to, say, cross the street without getting killed -- but still obeyed instructions. Kevin looked at Trish, pleased with his choice. When Kevin had requested they try to find a virgin, his brothers in charge of choosing girls to run through programming and get fitted with bracelets -- the dick girls -- told him he might have to settle for some lesser quality material, but Trish was as pretty as any of the other girls they had already acquired. Trish was almost down on all four between the doctor's leg, letting him dictate the thrusts of her face on his cock -- he had her head in his hands and was pushing and pulling her down. Without the use of her hands, Trish was completely at the doctor's mercy, but she let herself be guided without complaint -- in fact, if the slurping and sucking sounds were any indication, she was enthusiastic about it. The position she was in thrust her ass up, giving Kevin a perfect view. He had the sudden desire to drive his cock into that blonde cheerleader from behind, forcibly ripping her into adulthood. Perhaps he should call up another girl to service him while Trish and the doctor were getting it on? The doctor eventually pulled Trish off his cock, a long strand of saliva connecting it still to Trish's mouth as she tried to catch her breath. The doctor told her to lie down and spread her legs. Trish did so, and the sight was a beautiful one. The blonde cheerleader spread her long legs wide, and the doctor kneeled between them and asked Trish to pulled her legs up and hold them under her knees. She did so, and the doctor stared at her snatch that opened up slightly in that position. The doctor stared a long time, Trish waiting patiently, Kevin wondering what he was doing. The doctor then asked Trish to look at him. She did. Kevin could just imagine what the doctor was seeing. Fear? Panic? The knowledge that what she had worked so hard to preserve in those last years would be taken away from her very soon, with her body's unwilling participation? The poor girl probably did not understand what was happening, why she could not stop herself from exposing herself as she did, from offering herself to that man, why her body was so aroused by the idea. The doctor stared a long time, unhurriedly stroking his cock. The room was silent. The doctor was not the vocal type, and Trish's programming automatically picked up on that, and kept her from talking much herself. When the doctor lied down on top of the girl, who was still holding her knees up, and pushed his cock into her in one long, slow thrust, she only moaned. The doctor was looking straight into her eyes as he tore into her virgin womb, probably to catch all the details of the violation that the blonde cheerleader was feeling. Kevin had to admit that while it was a fucked up fantasy, it was kind of a turn on. Too bad his friends warned him that this was an unstable feature, for he was sure that some of the brothers would get a kick out of fucking girls who were aware but could do nothing about it. Perhaps the risk of instability was worth it. He would have to discuss this with the doctor, who at that moment had his cock pushed fully inside Trish and was not moving, eyes locked on the blonde girl who was making small movements with her hips. Then the doctor slowly pulled his cock out, before pushing it back fully inside once again. Trish's back arched and she moaned. This dance repeated itself with greater intensity and soon the doctor was fucking the blonde girl with long hard thrusts that elicited groans and shook the small girl's frame, making her breasts bounce enticingly. She was still holding her legs up by the knees. The doctor finally shoved hard into the girl with a great twist of the hips, and Kevin could tell he was exploding inside her. After a while, he collapsed on top of Trish, and she caressed his hair much as a lover would. His gaze crossed Kevin's and made a vaguely apologetic face. "Sorry for just investing your office like this." "Not a worry," replied Kevin. "I was kind of expecting that anyways. Besides, it was a good show. She's pretty good, isn't she?" "Hell yeah! She's amazing. Where did you find her?" "English department, of all places. Like she needs to be able to read to cheer her little tushy off. Say, you should get her to clean that up for you." Kevin was nodding at that doctor's cock, which had slipped out of Trish's pussy, and was coated with a mixture of her juices, his cum, and faint traces of blood. "Huh, sure. You got a towel or something?" "Or she can just use her mouth. She's here to please you, you know." "Oh. Right. Of course." The doctor rolled over to sit with his back against the seat of the couch, legs spread, and Trish, who had followed the conversation, leaned over and took the doctor's cock back in her mouth, cleaning her juices off the now soft member. Kevin stared at the girl between his associate's legs, and at the perfect ass sticking straight up in the air once more, and grunted. Why not? He cleared his throat. "So, I realize that she's your gift right now and all, but she never finished her blow job before, and left me kind of dangling, so to speak. Would you mind if I..." He left his sentence hang in the air. Just what were the conversational conventions on asking someone whether you could fuck their toy? The doctor understood immediately. "By all means. Help yourself. You don't mind if I have her continue? Her mouth feels delightful, and I may just get hard again." "Not at all," replied Kevin, standing up and unbuttoning his fly. "I have my eyes on another part of her anatomy anyways. Time to teach her doggy style. Oh, and thank you." Trish had heard everything and seemed to be anticipating the frat president's cock, as she started swaying her ass left and right in slow, almost hypnotic movements, keeping time with her sucking. The doctor's cock was starting to get hard again, and she had gone from simply cleaning the shaft to blowing him, her head bobbing up and down on the hardening member, taking most of it into her mouth, slurping loudly. Kevin kneeled behind the blonde girl, and ran a hand over the offered backside. It felt wonderful, soft and yielding. Putting his hand between her legs, he ran a finger through her slit, making the girl moan around the cock in her mouth. "Ah yes," he said. "Our little virgin really liked her first experience getting fucked, didn't she? Was it all you were hoping for? Do you want more? Tell me." Trish pulled her head off the doctor's cock momentarily, and looked back at Kevin. "Yes, please, put it in, stuff me, fuck me." He loved the expression deep in her eyes, there for all to see -- the disbelief, the fear, the complete lack of understanding at having no control over her own body. He could definitely grow to like it. "Tell me then how much you want it inside you -- tell me how stupid you were to wait for so long to feel a man's cock inside you. Beg me to teach you all those things that you haven't learned because you were too high and mighty to let a man enjoy that fucking body of yours. Go on," he slapped her ass, a short sharp slap of the hand that sent her cheeks jiggling, "tell me." Unlike the doctor, Kevin liked his sex noisy. Trish was still looking back at him, the wanton look on her face belied by the one in her eyes. She was jacking off the doctor, her hand pumping up and down the now completely hard shaft. "Please," she moaned, "I'm so sorry I waited so long to get fucked. I know better now -- there's nothing more wonderful than being completely filled with male flesh. I promise I'll be the best fuck you've ever had. I know I have a lot to learn, but I'll be a good student. I'll watch porn. I'll learn everything that makes a woman attractive to a man -- I'll learn to suck cock like a crack whore, I'll learn to make a man come by squeezing him just with my cunt, I'll learn the best way to wrap my tits around a cock. I'll let you slap me around if you want, tie me up. I'll let you do whatever you want to me. I'll be your slut, your whore, your pet -- just please stuff your cock inside me, please!" She pushed her ass back towards Kevin, lifting it even higher, beckoning. Kevin smiled, slapped her ass once more and poised himself at the threshold of her pussy. "Go back to sucking the doctor's cock, my little blonde slut. I want you to make him blow his load with only your mouth and swallow everything. Show him what a good little cock slut you are." And when Trish had turned her head back and pushed it down onto the doctor's cock as ordered, Kevin pushed his own shaft inside her. Trish moaned around the flesh in her throat, and Kevin marveled at the tightness he encountered as his cock seemed to part the blonde's insides. He did not remember ever entering so tight an orifice. It felt amazing. He pushed his cock all the way in, eliciting a groan from Trish, though whether from pleasure or pain he could not tell. They quickly settled on a rhythm where Trish sucked the doctor noisily while Kevin fucked her with mighty lunges that sent the girl shaking. The doctor could not take that level of stimulation for long, and with a loud groan grabbed Trish's head and pushed his hips up and came deep inside the girl's mouth, forcing her to swallow frantically to avoid choking. Kevin was getting close as well, and the visual of Trish being fed cum from the doctor was doing its job getting him even closer to the finish line. His thrusts became more vigorous, and Trish, whose mouth was now free, moaned and groaned in time with his cock bottoming out. Her pussy was squeezing his cock delightfully, and he could feel the tension in his balls announcing an imminent ejaculation. He thought for a moment about spewing deep inside her, asking her to turn her head and look at him while he desecrated her womb, but finally decided he wanted something else. "Fuck," he groaned, "turn around and suck me." He slapped her ass again, and Trish scrambled to twist and take his cock in her mouth. She barely had time to wrap her lips around the head when he shoved hard, banging the back of her throat, making her gag, and the feel of her throat squeezing around his cock was the final straw and he unloaded. Trish was caught by surprise, and she struggled against his hands which were keeping her head down against his spurting shaft. Semen came out of her nose and some dribbled down the sides of her mouth, and she was having problems breathing. Kevin eventually let her go, and she collapsed on the ground, coughing and retching. Kevin winked at the doctor, who had watched the finale silently, and reached for his pants. "Welcome to Delta Iota Kappa, my little blonde cheerleader. I think you will be very popular here. Now, what do we say?" Trish, having caught her breath, looked up at Kevin, panic still clear in her eyes, but her expression a smiling one, with just a hint of naughtiness. "Thank you for a great fuck, sir. I hope I pleased you, and that you'll want to use my body again. I promise I'll do better next time. Do you want me to clean you up?" Kevin smiled. "Maybe later." He turned to the doctor. "Doc, please take Trish here and give her a good look over. I don't really trust the kids with her programming. When you've checked her out, feel free to send her back out into the world. Standard procedure. Although," he said looking back at Trish, "if you can figure out a way to keep in the awareness part of the programming, please do so. I think the brothers would really enjoy that."

<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/strict.dtd"> <html> <head> <!--ADULTSONLY--> <meta name="shs-author" content="Bulgroz The Third"> <meta name="shs-title" content="The Adjusters #9 Delta Iota Kappa"> <meta name="shs-keywords" content="MF, mc"> <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> <link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Domine' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="b3.css"> <title>The Adjusters #9 Delta Iota Kappa</title> </head> <body> <div class="text"> <p class="ct"><b>THE ADJUSTERS</b></p> <p class="ct"><br></p> <p class="ct"><b>9</b></p> <p class="ct"><b>Delta Iota Kappa</b></p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="cb">The restaurant was quiet, the lunch rush having come and gone, and Serena, Jenn, and Daniel were idling with tea and desserts before taking on the afternoon. They were talking about the NADA party of three days earlier, Daniel still reeling from the whole experience.</p> <p class="cb">“I asked a med student friend of mine yesterday,” said Serena, “and what you described sounds like a stroke.”</p> <p class="cb">“Marjorie had a stroke?”</p> <p class="cb">“That’s the most likely thing, he said. It happened without warning, yes?”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel nodded. “Yeah, just before... well... as she was about to... well... sit on Radhu.”</p> <p class="cb">“Those little fucks,” growled Jenn. “Those NADA fucks. Explain to me why we’re not sicking the cops on them? They tried to mutilate Radhu, for fuck’s sake!”</p> <p class="cb">“I talked to the cops, and they did send someone to investigate, but no one’s talking. More to the point, no one who was at that party is saying that anything like what I described happened. It’s my word and Radhu’s against everyone else’s, and since Radhu was not really hurt, there’s not a shred of evidence backing us up. And the way Radhu’s been acting since the incident, well, it’s not lending him any credibility. If only I had snapped some videos or something, but no.”</p> <p class="cb">“So they’re just going to get away with it?” Jenn was incensed, had been for the past two days. She had taken it upon herself to care for Radhu, who was recovering from the ordeal in his apartment. Physically, he was fine—a few bruises from the beating he had suffered when he was jumped and captured, all healing nicely—but mentally he was a wreck. Daniel could commiserate. Had he been that close to being horribly castrated, he probably would have flipped out too. The doctor had prescribed narcotics, with the view that the main thing that would help him was rest, but Jenn had reported that even through the drug haze Radhu’s sleep was agitated, and he was suffering from nightmares.</p> <p class="cb">“Well, the cops are going to keep an eye on the place,” said Serena, “and I managed to convince my editor at the Daily to do a bit of investigative reporting on NADA. So with luck, we can expose them for something, if not specifically for what they did to Radhu.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn looked barely mollified by that statement, but did not continue.</p> <p class="cb">“Meanwhile,” continued Serena, “we seem to have lost Marjorie again.”</p> <p class="cb">“That same guy was there, though, the guy from the alley. Not sure what it means. He’s the one pimping her out?”</p> <p class="cb">“Maybe. And what’s the story with those medallions?”</p> <p class="cb">“Yeah,” added Jenn. “That was creepy.”</p> <p class="cb">“I don’t know,” said Daniel. “I think it was just a gimmick, but no one’s talking.”</p> <p class="cb">“You said you’d talk to your friend Cindy about it. Did you?” asked Serena.</p> <p class="cb">“Yes, today, in class. She said she had no idea what I was talking about—she has no recollections of medallions, or anything funny going on. She said that NADA asked her to be a waitress at the party, and help with the entertainment. I didn’t even bother asking her about boinking the guests, her or the other girls. Frankly, she sounded so convincing that she made me doubt my own sanity.”</p> <p class="cb">“But you were there,” said Serena, “and you saw what happened, what they did. Even if they deny it, it doesn’t change the facts.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel shook his head. “Everyone seems to be acting like absolutely nothing weird was happening there, and they’re pretty adamant about it.”</p> <p class="cb">“Wait,” interrupted Jenn. “Was that Cindy from class? Blonde, short-skirts Cindy?”</p> <p class="cb">“Yup.”</p> <p class="cb">“Wow! And... did you...?”</p> <p class="cb">“No! Of course not!”</p> <p class="cb">“Fine, fine... just checking.”</p> <p class="cb">“At least we now have another venue of investigation,” mused Serena. “We can try to find out who the girls worked for. Cindy told you that NADA asked her to help them out. What about the other girls? If we can find out who supplied their services...”</p> <p class="cb">“Could be the same guy that sent Marjorie to visit Lake, our drug-dealing friend.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena nodded. “Our elusive Snowman. Might be. By the way, I called him a couple of days back, at the number that Lake gave us, left a voicemail. Told him that a friend of a friend game me his number, that I wanted to host a party and was looking for some entertainment, and was told that he might be able to help me out, and that I was to ask for MD.”</p> <p class="cb">“You think he’ll bite?”</p> <p class="cb">“Who knows? Meanwhile, I have to look into that frat again. You said every waitress there had one of those charms bracelet, right? Can’t be a coincidence, that. It’s time for me to confront those friendly folks at Delta Iota Kappa. Jenn, what’s wrong?”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn had made a face at the first mention of the fraternity.</p> <p class="cb">“Sorry,” she said. “Guess I’m still wound up because of what happened to Radhu and my emotions are just a bit close to the surface. I’ve been having a few... issues with that frat, lately.”</p> <p class="cb">“What do you mean?”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn looked at Daniel. “You remember that guy, Biff, we met in the Quad a few weeks ago?” How could he forget? Jenn, playing out one of his fantasies when he used his last card from their mind-control game, had been making out with this guy Jackson from the frat when another frat brother, Biff, had interrupted them by coming on to Jenn in a fairly rude manner.</p> <p class="cb">“Well,” Jenn continued, “He’s been following me. At least, I’ve seen him around a lot more, and he’s often looking at me.”</p> <p class="cb">“Maybe you’re just noticing him more because now you know him. I mean, you realize that there are many boys that look at you throughout the day, don’t you? You’re kind of beautiful, love.”</p> <p class="cb">“Maybe, but I don’t think that’s it. It’s the way he looks at me —makes my hair stand on edge. Trust me, a girl can sense these things. There are different kind of looks, and some just make your skin crawl.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena nodded in agreement, and grabbed Jenn’s hand and squeezed it. “And then there was this morning,” Jenn went on, her jaw setting, “after my Modern Novel class. He was waiting for me outside of the classroom. He had this cocky look on his face. I was with a friend, and when he made a restroom stop, Biff came out of nowhere. He put one of his big hands on my ass and squeezed. I turned around to tell him to fuck off but he towered over me and I stepped back until my back hit the wall. He put his hand by my face and I tried to slap it away but he just grabbed my wrist and pinned my arm above my head. I started to scream but his other hand clamped itself on my mouth. I was trapped. And there was no one around. Biff was leering at me, and I remember thinking that it was good that both of his hands were busy because otherwise he had a look in his eyes that spelled out quite clearly that he would have liked nothing more than run those hands all over me.</p> <p class="cb">“And then he spoke, his voice low, almost a growl. ‘You left in a rush last time, doll, before we could have our fun. A shame. We could have had a good time, you and I. You are the most beautiful girl I’ve seen on this godforsaken shithole. Don’t worry though, we’ll have another chance. Before too long, I promise you, I’ll get to know all the nooks and crannies of this perfect little body of yours. And you’ll beg me, I swear, you’ll beg me with your legs spread wide to stretch out that little cunt of yours. You’ll see. You’ll be my slut, I promise you. And you’ll love every second of it.’ He leaned down as if to kiss me, and I was trying to find the right angle to slam my knee between his legs when my friend came out of the restroom and jumped on Biff, who had no difficulty pushing my friend back, but I did manage to scramble away. Biff pointed a finger at me and told me ‘You’ll beg me to fuck you, doll,’ then he laughed and left.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel and Serena were shocked silent at the story. They both crowded around Jenn, who looked vaguely upset. “Jenn, my god...”</p> <p class="cb">“I’m okay,” she dismissed Daniel’s concern with a wave of the hand. “I mean, it was scary, but there was no real danger. Although I think I’ll be a bit more systematic about carrying my pepper spray from now on.”</p> <p class="cb">“Fucking jerk,” said Serena. “You want me to go beat him up?”</p> <p class="cb">“Hey, that’s my line,” said Daniel.</p> <p class="cb">“You can hold his arms down when I kick him in the nads.”</p> <p class="cb">“Let’s go then.”</p> <p class="cb">“It’s okay, guys, let it go. But thanks.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena made a face, then pulled out her notepad. “Biff... Biff from Delta Iota Kappa. Why does that name ring a bell?” She thumbed through her notes. “Ah, here we go. Biff Cusker. A junior. And cousin to Kevin Cusker, president of Delta Iota Kappa. So that Biff guy is well connected. Perhaps it may be worthwhile to ask him a few questions while we’re crushing his nuts.”</p> <p class="cb">“He doesn’t strike me as the type to have answers, at least not any that aren’t grunts.”</p> <p class="cb">“Bet he would know how best to get in touch with his cousin, though. Just something to keep in mind, it’s all I’m saying.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn looked at her watch. “Right. Yoga starting in fifteen minutes. Just enough time to get there.” She turned to Daniel. “Catch you at home later? Next lunch’s on me.”</p> <p class="cb">She kissed him, waved goodbye to Serena, then left in a hurry. Daniel, as was his habit, watched her walk away.</p> <p class="cb">“Ah... love... ain’t that a beautiful thing,” mocked Serena. “So what’s with this Biff guy?”</p> <p class="cb">“What do you mean?”</p> <p class="cb">“You reacted weird, that’s all.”</p> <p class="cb">“He practically threatened to rape her!”</p> <p class="cb">“Right. So why did you look guilty?”</p> <p class="cb">“Just drop it, okay?”</p> <p class="cb">“Fine. Watch me drop it. Plump. On the floor. So what about you two then? Talked about next year’s plans yet?”</p> <p class="cb">“What’s with the nosiness today?”</p> <p class="cb">“Occupational hazard. So?”</p> <p class="cb">“Do you see me asking you all sort of personal questions?” Daniel took a mock-interviewing tone. “So, Miss Banks, have you shagged anyone lately?”</p> <p class="cb">“Sunday. Nice thick cock, too, the kind that when he’s fully inside you, you can’t breathe.”</p> <p class="cb">“Fuck, I don’t need to know this—”</p> <p class="cb">“Fuck indeed. Stamina of a long-distance runner. Loves to take me from behind, says he really enjoys the view. And we actually talked at some point. Might be a keeper. Any other questions?”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel sighed in defeat. “We’re set to talk about it, Jenn and I, this weekend. I’m taking her out to Da Maurizio.”</p> <p class="cb">“Wow, fancy.”</p> <p class="cb">“Well, I figured that we’ll make it a celebration. She’s going to get her scholarship, and I’ll be with her in Austin.”</p> <p class="cb">“That’s amazing! Oh, I’ll miss you guys so much!”</p> <p class="cb">“Come to Texas too, then. The more the merrier.”</p> <p class="cb">“We’ll see. Did you get the job then, the one you were talking about?”</p> <p class="cb">“The Institute for Democracy. I talked to them—they like me, I like them, and I’m still on the fence. I may want to take a break for a bit and figure out what I want to be when I grow up.”</p> <p class="cb">“Cheers to that.”</p> <p class="cb">“Huh, Serena? You very busy right now?”</p> <p class="cb">“Not really, why?”</p> <p class="cb">“While we’re downtown, there’s something I’d like you to come see with me. I need a girl’s opinion on this one.”</p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="ct">* * *</p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="cb">The Delta Iota Kappa fraternity house was a large two hundred years old mansion dominating Fraternity Row, set back from the street, and protected by large oak trees that both shielded the plan and gave it an air of grandeur.</p> <p class="cb">Inside, the original interior had given way several decades earlier to a layout designed to accommodate several dozen students living together. While the ground floor had remained essentially unchanged—a grand ballroom, some living space, and an insanely large kitchen—the upper floors had been redivided with smaller rooms for housing brothers, as well as offices for official fraternity business. </p> <p class="cb">It was in one of those offices, the one assigned to the fraternity president, an elected position disputed every two years, that Kevin Cusker could be found that day.</p> <p class="cb">The young president, a graduate student in cognitive psychology, was reclining in his oversized chair behind an oak desk rumored to have belonged to the founder of the fraternity.</p> <p class="cb">“Oh, that’s very nice... Come on, you can take a bit more in. Yes, oh yes... just like that.”</p> <p class="cb">Between his legs, a blonde girl, fully decked out in her Darnell Mountain Lions cheerleader uniform, was lavishly sucking his cock, bobbing her head up and down and taking a bit more than half of the shaft into her mouth on each downstroke. Her blonde hair, gathered in a long ponytail behind her, swayed with every thrust of her head, a sight Kevin found fascinating. He stared down at the girl’s chest, still covered by her sweater bearing the logo of the school’s football team, and marveled at the girl’s shape. She had the classical cheerleader’s body: tall, with long gentle curves that lead to two long legs that looked perfect in that diminutive skirt her cheerleading team wore. Legs that had fueled many a student’s fantasy over the past year. Yes, she had been a good choice. And her blow job skills were coming along nicely, too. He moaned as she sucked on the head of his cock particularly hard. Coming along very nicely indeed. He toyed once again with the idea of having her strip and reveal that incredible body of hers, and taking her, but he reminded himself of exactly why she was here. Besides, she looked good kneeling between his legs, and he was greatly enjoying her oral skills. The charms bracelet on her wrist caught the light as she jacked him off in time with her sucking. </p> <p class="cb">The door to his office opened, and Kevin felt a pang of annoyance. Only two people entered his office without knocking. His thick cousin, Biff, and Doctor Cargyle. Since Biff usually betrayed his presence with a heavy footstep and overbearing physicality, Kevin had to assume that it was the good doctor dropping by for a visit. Good timing, he thought, putting his hands on the blonde cheerleader’s head and guiding it further down onto his cock. Her mouth was warm and wet, and what she was doing with her tongue was fantastic. </p> <p class="cb">“I see you’re busy,” said the doctor. “Should I come back later?”</p> <p class="cb">“It’s quite all right, please come in. I’m just testing out this girl’s programming. She’s good. And a looker, too. A good find.”</p> <p class="cb">“If you say so. I just work on them. I don’t do recruiting.”</p> <p class="cb">Kevin sighed. The doctor could be touchy at times, and this sounded like one of those times. He pressed on the blonde’s head to push his cock further into her mouth, and he could feel her gag as the cock hit the back of her throat.</p> <p class="cb">“Of course, doctor, of course. Tell me, how is the girl doing, Marjorie?”</p> <p class="cb">“She’s not doing well. I hate to say I told you so, but frankly, I told you so. She was not ready. She wasn’t ready when you started sending her out on assignments, as you call them. And she wasn’t ready when you sent her to that NADA thing. Look, I’m only now starting to understand how to keep a subject activated for prolonged periods of time, and while Marjorie was an excellent subject under lab conditions, she wasn’t ready for unsupervised long-term activations. She had a psychotic episode. She’s sedated now, and resting, but I don’t think she’ll ever be the same again. She may never be able to function, period. If she even wakes up.”</p> <p class="cb">“So is she going to be stark raving mad, or just a vegetable?”</p> <p class="cb">“Either’s a possibility at this point. Or anything in between.”</p> <p class="cb">“Well, worse come to worse, I have some contacts that are always looking for girls and that don’t really care that much about their mental health, or whether they’re awake or not for that matter. We’ll just have to find other subjects for your experiments.”</p> <p class="cb">Doctor Cargyle shook his head. “As long as you promise me that you won’t send them out there. I’m telling you what I told you then, now with evidence in hand: it is a bad idea. Perhaps one day, with enough research, but not now. I mean, already peddling the girl for payments and favors was risky—”</p> <p class="cb">“Doctor, you made your objections abundantly clear at our last meeting. As I told you then, the frat voted—”</p> <p class="cb">“Bull. The frat does what you want it to do, Kevin. The brothers are eating out of your hand. Dammit, my involvement here was supposed to be kept low profile. I can’t afford to be exposed. My former employers are not the most understanding of people.”</p> <p class="cb">“Your former employers don’t know where you are, doctor. And this is indeed a low profile operation—”</p> <p class="cb">“The bracelets, sure, that’s as low profile as such things can be. When we program a girl for use by the frat brothers, at least, only frat brothers can activate them. And the brothers are more or less sworn to secrecy. But those quasi-abductions like the Marjorie girl, or the trick with the medallions at that NADA thing, or what you did to that police officer, that’s stupid, and dangerous. It’s bound to attract attention.”</p> <p class="cb">“It is lucrative though, and in the case of the police officer, good protection. The NADA folks paid very good money for the service of the girls that evening.”</p> <p class="cb">“Bull again. You’re not hurting for money, not to the extend of risking attracting the attention of my former employers.”</p> <p class="cb">No, thought Kevin, it wasn’t a money thing. The blonde cheerleader was still dutifully sucking him off, saliva dripping on her chin, totally absorbed in her actions, oblivious to the presence of the doctor. He motioned to her to make less noise, but to continue her ministrations. At least, it was not a money thing for him. But he had a constituency to consider. His fellow brothers had elected him as president on his strengths as a purveyor of easy pussy. That was the blunt truth. When the doctor had shown up on campus almost a year ago, on the run from his former company and looking both for a place to hide and to continue his research, Kevin had seized the opportunity. He had agreed to hide the doctor at the frat house and treat him as an esteemed if elusive guest, and to let him set up a lab in the basement, in exchange for using some of the technological know-how of the good doctor to program girls to make them available to his frat brothers. That platform got him elected as president, and he was keen on preserving it. His brothers, in recent months, have felt there was more opportunities to be had with the tricks that the doctor had brought with him, and while Kevin had to veto their most outlandish schemes, he also had to let them have their way once in a while. The idea of turning a girl—Marjorie—into a whore for the frat was such an idea. There was probably some suitable quote on democracy and compromise he could use here, but it didn’t come to him.</p> <p class="cb">“I mean,” continued the doctor, “it’s bad enough that I had to go out there and keep an eye out on that Marjorie girl myself and risk exposure, but that reporter, Serena Banks, is hot on her trail. She called me a few days ago, did you know that? She’s trying to set up MD as entertainment to a party. How she got my number is anyone’s guess, but since she used my Snowman monicker, I guess someone that hired MD must have talked.”</p> <p class="cb">“Serena Banks? I know that name. She’s been sniffing around the frat for a while now. And she’s also the one you told me ran after Marjorie at the Spirited Flesh a couple of weeks ago?”</p> <p class="cb">“Yes. And it turns out she’s friends with those guys that were nosing around the NADA party asking about MD. She’s going to be trouble.”</p> <p class="cb">“And you said she got in touch with you? Trying to set up a little evening with MD? Perhaps it is time to accommodate Miss Banks. Is she cute?”</p> <p class="cb">“Let’s say that she would certainly please certain members of the fraternity.”</p> <p class="cb">“Is there anything you can do to help make sure that Miss Banks stops looking for her friend? Then Miss Banks gets a little adjustment and a shiny charms bracelet, and the fraternity gets a new toy to play with. And you get to do some research. Everybody wins.”</p> <p class="cb">Doctor Cargyle raised an eyebrow, and mused. “Perhaps I can try some selective memory elimination and implantation... There was this one technique that I was hoping to test...”</p> <p class="cb">Kevin moaned as the blonde cheerleader at his feet, eyes tearing up, managed to push the head of his cock into her throat for the first time, and the sensations on his cock were overwhelming. Soon, he thought, she’d be able to swallow any cock as deep as needed, a skill he knew was highly praised by his frat brothers. She was a fast learner.</p> <p class="cb">“All right, doctor,” Kevin interrupted, returning his attention to the man in front of him who was still rambling about memory erasure. “I’ll let you work out the best way to deal with the Banks girl. In the meantime, I have a present for you.” Much to his chagrin, he pulled the cheerleader’s head off of his lap. “Trish,” he addressed the girl, “please go stand by the couch.” </p> <p class="cb">The cheerleader nodded, saying nothing in response, and only stood and walked to the designated spot. The doctor followed her with his eyes, not unappreciative of the young girl’s beauty. Her school sweater was tight, certainly, and her cheerleading skirt was short and exposed her delicious long legs, but it was the heels that clinched it, since cheerleaders rarely wore spike heels quite that high. They did wonder for her legs, though. She stood at attention, head held high, utterly calm. The doctor was running his eyes up and down her body.</p> <p class="cb">“As I said, doctor, this girl is a present for you. My brothers and I wanted to show you how much we appreciate your contribution to our fraternity during the last year. And we figured what better way to do so than by helping you indulge one of your fantasies?”</p> <p class="cb">The doctor turned his head to look at Kevin, his eyes trailing just a fraction of a second behind as if not wanting to leave the girl. “You mean?...”</p> <p class="cb">“Yes, she is a virgin. From what we’ve managed to gather, she was saving herself for marriage, a rather quaint idea. Quite religious, although I expect that will change in the coming years. We caught her at just the right time.”</p> <p class="cb">“And she has been programmed? Well, I guess she has, otherwise she wouldn’t be here, would she?” The doctor looked down and saw the silver charms bracelet on the girl’s wrist. “Funny, I don’t remember programming her.” </p> <p class="cb">Kevin shrugged. “We do have a couple of smart folks here with us. And they were willing to pull some overtime to help figure out a way to thank you. So they took care of the programming. Although to be honest, I’m not so sure the programming’s any good, so you’ll probably want to check her out before we send her out there. But right here, right now, she should be fine. I was testing her oral skills just now. She’s pretty naturally talented.”</p> <p class="cb">“How did you know?”</p> <p class="cb">“How did I know that you have a—shall we say—thing for virginal young things? People hear stuff, remember stuff.” He shrugged again. “And that’s not it, is it? There’s more. So we’ve also thrown in a little something special for you. Trish,” he said, addressing the girl, “open your eyes to your DIK brother.”</p> <p class="cb">The blonde girl did not change her position, still at attention in the middle of the room, but her eyes now showed what could only be described as panic. The doctor noticed immediately.</p> <p class="cb">“Wait, you let her be aware of her actions?”</p> <p class="cb">“But her body still reacts to the programming only, and not to her will, yes indeed. It took some work, but the guys figured out a way to do that.”</p> <p class="cb">“Mucking about with someone’s brain is not trivial, you know that. Those guys of yours might have done irremediable damage to this girl.”</p> <p class="cb">“Well, if she’s broken beyond fixing, we can give her the same treatment that awaits the Marjorie girl.”</p> <p class="cb">“You callousness towards human life would have made my former employers proud, you know.”</p> <p class="cb">Kevin smiled easily. Whatever moral qualms he had were thoroughly compartmentalized. </p> <p class="cb">“Just enjoy your gift, doctor, and let’s save the ethics debate for later, shall we?”</p> <p class="cb">“Fine. Do you mind if—”</p> <p class="cb">“Please, go ahead.” Kevin gestured to the blonde cheerleader. “Trish, you will obey the good doctor like you would me. Doctor, she’s all yours. Would you like me to leave?”</p> <p class="cb">“No need.” The doctor stood and slowly walked towards the blonde girl who was still standing motionless, with a frightened look in her eyes. He ran his hand down the side of her face, pushing a strand of hair and hooking it behind her ear, then ran his hand down to her chest, caressing the girl’s breasts through the sweater. He slid one hand under the sweater to squeeze the ripe flesh directly. Kevin knew she was not wearing a bra. The doctor locked his eyes on hers, wanting to catch every nuance of her expression. He smiled when his hand trailed down to her legs, sliding up the inside of a thigh and pulling her short skirt up as his hand found her pussy unobstructed by any panties. He ran his finger through her slit, then pulled it up and showed it to her.</p> <p class="cb">“You’re wet,” he whispered. “Your body knows what’s what, even if your mind doesn’t. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. Who knows, by the time we’re done here, you might even discover you like sex.”</p> <p class="cb">He looked at her a moment longer, then gave her a kiss on the cheek and told her to service him. Trish moved then, and quickly grabbed the doctor by the head and pulled her lips up to his and kissed him—a ferocious, hungry kiss. He responded in kind, wasting no time to reach down, lift her skirt again, and this time fondling her ass, round and soft and very receptive to his caresses. Kevin, from behind his desk, looked at the proceedings with an interested eye. His cock was still hard, and he hoped the doctor might invite him to join in.</p> <p class="cb">Trish had broken the kiss, and was now pushing her body up and down against the doctor, looking for all the world like a stripper against her pole. She was making little cooing noises, and Kevin was once more amazed at how the technology that the doctor had brought with him, courtesy of his former employers, could so effectively rewire a human brain so that it acted so against its own volition. Here was this girl, by all accounts prude and raised to believe that anything sexual with a man who was not her husband would earn her a permanent vacation in the pits of Hell, yet here she was rubbing her cunt against a stranger, about to lose her virginity to him, and looking nothing less than perfectly eager. Well, except for the look in her eyes, thought Kevin, shaking his head to himself. Well, if that was part of the doctor’s twisted fantasy, who was he to judge? Come to think of it, for a man whose research revolved around the notions of will and identity, that his fantasy life would involve subverting those same notions was hardly surprising.</p> <p class="cb">Before him, the doctor had made his way to the couch lined up against one wall of his office. He was stripped down to only his shirt, and sported an impressive erection. He was sitting down, his legs spread, and he motioned for Trish to strip, a hand on his dick. Trish complied with a smile. She shimmied out of her sweater first, and the doctor and Kevin drank in the view of her large breasts bouncing around, unfettered by any constraint. The skirt she had on was much less problematic; she simply unclipped the side and it fell at her feet, leaving her completely naked but for her heels. The doctor just admired her for several seconds, and Trish obliged, thrusting a leg forward and arching her back to emphasize her chest.</p> <p class="cb">“Fuck you’re beautiful!” said the doctor, an uncharacteristic rumble in his voice. “And you’re sure you’re still a virgin?”</p> <p class="cb">Trish replied in a sing-song voice befitting a cheerleader. Kevin wondered if the boys had programmed that in too. After all, he knew that Trish was an English major, and supposedly a fairly good one at that. “Yes, sir. I’ve been saving myself for marriage. The body is sacred, and a gift to us from the Lord.”</p> <p class="cb">“Yours certainly is. But before we argue theology, how about some oral worship?” He reclined on the couch, legs spread, his dick hard and pointing straight up.</p> <p class="cb">Trish went down to her knees in front of the doctor, and repeated her earlier performance when Kevin was the target of her skills. She once again started slowly, licking the head of the cock bobbing in front of her, one of her hands jacking up and down the stiff shaft, before taking the head between her lips and sucking it in. Before long, Trish’s head was bobbing up and down, taking most of the doctor in her mouth, her ponytail bouncing rhythmically. The doctor was moaning softly, slumped into the soft cushions, his eyes closed.</p> <p class="cb">Kevin, still sitting behind his desk, his own dick clamoring for attention, looked at the doctor enjoying his foreplay, and noted how silent he was. Ah, old people, he thought. Always kind to women.</p> <p class="cb">Kevin shifted his gaze from the doctor’s face to Trish, still busy sucking, completely oblivious to the world. Like all the other girls, she had been programmed to sexually satisfy the brother who uttered her trigger sentence, while still retaining enough of her personality to avoid her simply acting as an automaton, a robot. It was actually fairly simple, all things considered, to wipe our someone’s mind and have them blindly follow commands, the doctor had explained to him, but aside from the fact that they were then nothing more than flesh Barbie dolls—pretty but ultimately somewhat unsatisfying—they also tended to be accident prone and utterly incapable of the simplest reasoning tasks. The skills of the doctor lay in his knowing how to retain enough of the higher-level functions of the brain so that the programmed person remained able to interact and engage and reason—able to, say, cross the street without getting killed—but still obeyed instructions.</p> <p class="cb">Kevin looked at Trish, pleased with his choice. When Kevin had requested they try to find a virgin, his brothers in charge of choosing girls to run through programming and get fitted with bracelets—the DIK girls—told him he might have to settle for some lesser quality material, but Trish was as pretty as any of the other girls they had already acquired.</p> <p class="cb">Trish was almost down on all four between the doctor’s leg, letting him dictate the thrusts of her face on his cock—he had her head in his hands and was pushing and pulling her down. Without the use of her hands, Trish was completely at the doctor’s mercy, but she let herself be guided without complaint—in fact, if the slurping and sucking sounds were any indication, she was enthusiastic about it. The position she was in thrust her ass up, giving Kevin a perfect view. He had the sudden desire to drive his cock into that blonde cheerleader from behind, forcibly ripping her into adulthood. Perhaps he should call up another girl to service him while Trish and the doctor were getting it on?</p> <p class="cb">The doctor eventually pulled Trish off his cock, a long strand of saliva connecting it still to Trish’s mouth as she tried to catch her breath. The doctor told her to lie down and spread her legs. Trish did so, and the sight was a beautiful one. The blonde cheerleader spread her long legs wide, and the doctor kneeled between them and asked Trish to pulled her legs up and hold them under her knees. She did so, and the doctor stared at her snatch that opened up slightly in that position. The doctor stared a long time, Trish waiting patiently, Kevin wondering what he was doing. The doctor then asked Trish to look at him. She did. Kevin could just imagine what the doctor was seeing. Fear? Panic? The knowledge that what she had worked so hard to preserve in those last years would be taken away from her very soon, with her body’s unwilling participation? The poor girl probably did not understand what was happening, why she could not stop herself from exposing herself as she did, from offering herself to that man, why her body was so aroused by the idea. The doctor stared a long time, unhurriedly stroking his cock.</p> <p class="cb">The room was silent. The doctor was not the vocal type, and Trish’s programming automatically picked up on that, and kept her from talking much herself. When the doctor lied down on top of the girl, who was still holding her knees up, and pushed his cock into her in one long, slow thrust, she only moaned. The doctor was looking straight into her eyes as he tore into her virgin womb, probably to catch all the details of the violation that the blonde cheerleader was feeling. Kevin had to admit that while it was a fucked up fantasy, it was kind of a turn on. Too bad his friends warned him that this was an unstable feature, for he was sure that some of the brothers would get a kick out of fucking girls who were aware but could do nothing about it. Perhaps the risk of instability was worth it. He would have to discuss this with the doctor, who at that moment had his cock pushed fully inside Trish and was not moving, eyes locked on the blonde girl who was making small movements with her hips. Then the doctor slowly pulled his cock out, before pushing it back fully inside once again. Trish’s back arched and she moaned. This dance repeated itself with greater intensity and soon the doctor was fucking the blonde girl with long hard thrusts that elicited groans and shook the small girl’s frame, making her breasts bounce enticingly. She was still holding her legs up by the knees.</p> <p class="cb">The doctor finally shoved hard into the girl with a great twist of the hips, and Kevin could tell he was exploding inside her. After a while, he collapsed on top of Trish, and she caressed his hair much as a lover would.</p> <p class="cb">His gaze crossed Kevin’s and made a vaguely apologetic face. “Sorry for just investing your office like this.”</p> <p class="cb">“Not a worry,” replied Kevin. “I was kind of expecting that anyways. Besides, it was a good show. She’s pretty good, isn’t she?”</p> <p class="cb">“Hell yeah! She’s amazing. Where did you find her?”</p> <p class="cb">“English department, of all places. Like she needs to be able to read to cheer her little tushy off. Say, you should get her to clean that up for you.” Kevin was nodding at that doctor’s cock, which had slipped out of Trish’s pussy, and was coated with a mixture of her juices, his cum, and faint traces of blood.</p> <p class="cb">“Huh, sure. You got a towel or something?”</p> <p class="cb">“Or she can just use her mouth. She’s here to please you, you know.”</p> <p class="cb">“Oh. Right. Of course.”</p> <p class="cb">The doctor rolled over to sit with his back against the seat of the couch, legs spread, and Trish, who had followed the conversation, leaned over and took the doctor’s cock back in her mouth, cleaning her juices off the now soft member.</p> <p class="cb">Kevin stared at the girl between his associate’s legs, and at the perfect ass sticking straight up in the air once more, and grunted. Why not? He cleared his throat.</p> <p class="cb">“So, I realize that she’s your gift right now and all, but she never finished her blow job before, and left me kind of dangling, so to speak. Would you mind if I...” He left his sentence hang in the air. Just what were the conversational conventions on asking someone whether you could fuck their toy?</p> <p class="cb">The doctor understood immediately. “By all means. Help yourself. You don’t mind if I have her continue? Her mouth feels delightful, and I may just get hard again.”</p> <p class="cb">“Not at all,” replied Kevin, standing up and unbuttoning his fly. “I have my eyes on another part of her anatomy anyways. Time to teach her doggy style. Oh, and thank you.”</p> <p class="cb">Trish had heard everything and seemed to be anticipating the frat president’s cock, as she started swaying her ass left and right in slow, almost hypnotic movements, keeping time with her sucking. The doctor’s cock was starting to get hard again, and she had gone from simply cleaning the shaft to blowing him, her head bobbing up and down on the hardening member, taking most of it into her mouth, slurping loudly.</p> <p class="cb">Kevin kneeled behind the blonde girl, and ran a hand over the offered backside. It felt wonderful, soft and yielding. Putting his hand between her legs, he ran a finger through her slit, making the girl moan around the cock in her mouth.</p> <p class="cb">“Ah yes,” he said. “Our little virgin really liked her first experience getting fucked, didn’t she? Was it all you were hoping for? Do you want more? Tell me.”</p> <p class="cb">Trish pulled her head off the doctor’s cock momentarily, and looked back at Kevin. “Yes, please, put it in, stuff me, fuck me.” He loved the expression deep in her eyes, there for all to see—the disbelief, the fear, the complete lack of understanding at having no control over her own body. He could definitely grow to like it.</p> <p class="cb">“Tell me then how much you want it inside you—tell me how stupid you were to wait for so long to feel a man’s cock inside you. Beg me to teach you all those things that you haven’t learned because you were too high and mighty to let a man enjoy that fucking body of yours. Go on,” he slapped her ass, a short sharp slap of the hand that sent her cheeks jiggling, “tell me.” Unlike the doctor, Kevin liked his sex noisy.</p> <p class="cb">Trish was still looking back at him, the wanton look on her face belied by the one in her eyes. She was jacking off the doctor, her hand pumping up and down the now completely hard shaft.</p> <p class="cb">“Please,” she moaned, “I’m so sorry I waited so long to get fucked. I know better now—there’s nothing more wonderful than being completely filled with male flesh. I promise I’ll be the best fuck you’ve ever had. I know I have a lot to learn, but I’ll be a good student. I’ll watch porn. I’ll learn everything that makes a woman attractive to a man—I’ll learn to suck cock like a crack whore, I’ll learn to make a man come by squeezing him just with my cunt, I’ll learn the best way to wrap my tits around a cock. I’ll let you slap me around if you want, tie me up. I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. I’ll be your slut, your whore, your pet—just please stuff your cock inside me, please!” She pushed her ass back towards Kevin, lifting it even higher, beckoning. </p> <p class="cb">Kevin smiled, slapped her ass once more and poised himself at the threshold of her pussy. “Go back to sucking the doctor’s cock, my little blonde slut. I want you to make him blow his load with only your mouth and swallow everything. Show him what a good little cock slut you are.”</p> <p class="cb">And when Trish had turned her head back and pushed it down onto the doctor’s cock as ordered, Kevin pushed his own shaft inside her. Trish moaned around the flesh in her throat, and Kevin marveled at the tightness he encountered as his cock seemed to part the blonde’s insides. He did not remember ever entering so tight an orifice. It felt amazing. He pushed his cock all the way in, eliciting a groan from Trish, though whether from pleasure or pain he could not tell.</p> <p class="cb">They quickly settled on a rhythm where Trish sucked the doctor noisily while Kevin fucked her with mighty lunges that sent the girl shaking. The doctor could not take that level of stimulation for long, and with a loud groan grabbed Trish’s head and pushed his hips up and came deep inside the girl’s mouth, forcing her to swallow frantically to avoid choking. Kevin was getting close as well, and the visual of Trish being fed cum from the doctor was doing its job getting him even closer to the finish line. His thrusts became more vigorous, and Trish, whose mouth was now free, moaned and groaned in time with his cock bottoming out. Her pussy was squeezing his cock delightfully, and he could feel the tension in his balls announcing an imminent ejaculation. He thought for a moment about spewing deep inside her, asking her to turn her head and look at him while he desecrated her womb, but finally decided he wanted something else. </p> <p class="cb">“Fuck,” he groaned, “turn around and suck me.” He slapped her ass again, and Trish scrambled to twist and take his cock in her mouth. She barely had time to wrap her lips around the head when he shoved hard, banging the back of her throat, making her gag, and the feel of her throat squeezing around his cock was the final straw and he unloaded. Trish was caught by surprise, and she struggled against his hands which were keeping her head down against his spurting shaft. Semen came out of her nose and some dribbled down the sides of her mouth, and she was having problems breathing. Kevin eventually let her go, and she collapsed on the ground, coughing and retching.</p> <p class="cb">Kevin winked at the doctor, who had watched the finale silently, and reached for his pants.</p> <p class="cb">“Welcome to Delta Iota Kappa, my little blonde cheerleader. I think you will be very popular here. Now, what do we say?”</p> <p class="cb">Trish, having caught her breath, looked up at Kevin, panic still clear in her eyes, but her expression a smiling one, with just a hint of naughtiness. “Thank you for a great fuck, sir. I hope I pleased you, and that you’ll want to use my body again. I promise I’ll do better next time. Do you want me to clean you up?”</p> <p class="cb">Kevin smiled. “Maybe later.” He turned to the doctor. “Doc, please take Trish here and give her a good look over. I don’t really trust the kids with her programming. When you’ve checked her out, feel free to send her back out into the world. Standard procedure. Although,” he said looking back at Trish, “if you can figure out a way to keep in the awareness part of the programming, please do so. I think the brothers would really enjoy that.”</p> </div> <p class="cd">Posted: <i>September 2, 2010</i></p> <p class="cd">Edited: <i>March 24, 2011</i></p> </body> </html>

Author: Bulgroz the Third Title: The Adjusters #10 - Whatever Did Happen to Marjorie? Keywords: MF, mc Posted: October 11, 2010 Edited: March 24, 2011 The Adjusters #10 Whatever Did Happen to Marjorie? Daniel was early, and had elected to wait for Jenn at the restaurant bar, which was still empty. Nothing surprising there, since the restaurant was one of the small town's very good -- and very expensive -- places that in the main catered to parents. This was where you brought your well-off parents when they came to visit. The restaurant was therefore exceedingly busy in early January, at the beginning of spring, and in late May, when visits were most common. The rest of the year, it was exceedingly quiet. And so it was tonight, in the first week of December. Because it was Saturday, Daniel was not actually alone in the restaurant, but there could not have been more than a dozen other people. The restaurant staff had had the insight of drawing thick burgundy drape across the dining room, cutting it in half and achieving a sense of intimacy. Daniel adjusted his tie and tugged on his jacket, not used to the feel of a suit. He felt vaguely ridiculous, like he was playing dress-up. The evening warranted some discomfort, however, first because of the importance of the conversation that would occur -- it had been almost two months now that Jenn had told him about getting the Blumberry, and they both had had time to think and reflect about the future they wanted -- and second because it had been too long since he and Jenn had gone out like grown-ups, as Serena liked to call it. Perhaps it was his thinking of their friend, via some cosmic synchronicity, but Daniel's cell phone rang at that moment, and he saw Serena's name flash on the screen. He answered. "Hey Serena, how goes it?" "Pretty great, actually." He could hear traffic noises in the background. "That Snowman guy, the one that got in touch with Lake for drugs and that arranged for Marjorie to go see Lake --" "Yeah, I remember." "Well, you may also remember that I called him earlier this week, saying that I was interested in hiring Marjorie -- MD -- for a gig, and he just called me back, and he said sure and to come to the Spirited Flesh, where MD is scheduled to dance tonight so I can have a look at her and we can discuss business. I'm headed there now. Do you want to come with?" "Sorry, can't. I'm waiting for Jenn at Da Maurizio. We're having this big dinner date..." "Oh, right, right. It's tonight." Daniel could hear the disappointment in her voice. "Can you call Radhu?" "He's still too out of it to leave his dorm room. No, I guess I'll go alone. It's okay, I'll keep you informed, all right? At least I got my pepper spray with me. You know, in case Mister Snowman gets fresh? And Daniel -- good luck for tonight. Daniel? Are you still there?" He was, but only physically. His arm was still holding the phone, but it hung limply by his side. His eyes, and those of the whole male contingent in the restaurant, were riveted on the vision of pure loveliness that was currently strolling across the room towards him. It was Jenn, of course, resplendent in a dark red evening gown that hugged her body like a glove, baring just the merest hint of cleavage but exposing her shoulders and sleek arms, and below flaring slightly at the hips and continuing down to just below her knees. A scarf, nylons, and a pair of spike heels completed the picture. The click-clack of those heels on the floor grew louder in the sudden silence, and Daniel remained motionless at his girlfriend's approach. "Your mouth is open," she said, after stopping right in front of him. She seemed pleased with herself. "Huh..." Jenn reached up with a hand, and gently pushed on his chin, closing his mouth. "There, much better. You look less goofy now." "Huh... right... I mean... wow. You look... wow..." She laughed. "That's my native English speaker! Thank you. And may I say, you look quite dashing yourself. Shall we sit? And why are you holding your phone?" "What phone? Oh, right. Serena." He lifted the phone to his ear, eyes not leaving Jenn's. "Listen, I gotta go. Be careful, okay?" Jenn had gotten closer to Daniel, and her mouth was near the phone. "Bye Serena," she tossed in. Serena laughed at the other end. "Okay, go, you two, and have fun. I'll call you later." Jenn never gave Daniel time to answer, tilting her head a fraction to the right and give him a slow languorous lick on the lips, her eyes looking deep into his. Arousal shot through him like electricity. "I believe we have a seat waiting for us?" she said, after giving him several seconds to recover. He nodded, then shook his head as if to clear it. "Yes. We do. And I think that's our waiter right there waiting for us." A waiter was indeed waiting for them, and showed them to their table. He held the chair for Jenn, and took advantage of it to steal a surreptitious glance down her cleavage and, Daniel had the sneaking suspicion, would have happily stolen a look at her thighs had she pulled her dress up to sit. Daniel was in too jovial a mood to mind, and Jenn seemed her usual oblivious self. They ordered some wine, and the waiter left them to ponder the menu. * * * Meanwhile, Serena was coming within sight of the Spirited Flesh. She was alone. She had determined that she would be safe enough, banking on the fact that it was Saturday night and that the strip club would be full. The outside of the club had not changed since the last time she was there with Daniel and Radhu, when they had come here upon learning that Marjorie would be on stage, almost two months ago. A group of young men were mingling about, leaning against the wall of the building and smoking and ogling every girl that walked by. They spotted Serena immediately, and hooted when they saw her headed for the club's door. Serena gave them a look that only seemed to egg them on. "Hey there, pretty lady! You gonna dance tonight? Wouldn't mind seeing those bags of yours bounce around! Perhaps you and I can meet in the back and I can show you what a white dick can do?" The man grabbed his crotch while his buddies laughing drunkenly. Serena elected for simply arching an eyebrow, and opened the door to the club. The bouncer looked at her, giving her the once over, then let her in after taking her money. Inside, everything was as she remembered it, albeit more crowded. Few seats were available -- but Serena had no interest in sitting down anyways. On stage, a couple of blonde dancers with large artificial breasts were kissing, hands rubbing each other's almost naked bodies. Half the patrons were watching the show, the others busy chatting or negotiating for lap dances. The evening was still early. Serena flagged the man working the bar. "You have anyone around named Snowman?" The barman gave her a distracted look. "Not that I know of." "You sure? Serena's asking. Snowman must have mentioned he was expecting me." The barman looked at her for five long seconds. "Snowman told me to tell you to meet him in the back. Room nine." Serena turned to the back of the club. "And how do I...?" The barman pointed to a pair of red doors. He signaled to a large man standing beside them, then pointed to Serena. The large man nodded once. "Thanks," said Serena. She was excited, the thought of confronting someone that at least could give her some concrete information about Marjorie, perhaps even where to find the poor girl, made her heart race. Calm down, girl, she told herself -- he may not even want to talk to you. She had no plan to speak of. Too many unknowns. But Snowman was a man, and unless he was gay, that gave her a slight advantage. She unfastened a few buttons of her shirt, and pressed her breasts upwards to produce more cleavage. She did not particularly relish the thought of having to seduce him, but she really had nothing else with which to exert leverage. They said all was fair in love and war -- that went double for journalism and searching for friends. The man guarding the double doors let her through, after staring her down and letting his eyes slide down to her chest, following the swell of her breasts. Serena did not rise to the bait -- her goal was Snowman, and she would not let herself get distracted. She stepped through the doors. The noise from the club immediately dropped to a background buzz. She was in a carpeted hallway leading to a T-junction perhaps a hundred feet ahead. It reminded her of a generic hotel floor, with doors down the corridor, every one of them closed and numbered. As she walked down looking for room nine, a couple emerged from one of the rooms, the man looking like a used-cars salesman complete with rumpled suit and questionable tie, and the girl hanging on his arm -- either a stripper here at the club or a date with atrocious fashion sense -- wearing a bikini and platform plastic heels, blonde hair straight out of a bottle. She looked tired. When they crossed her path, heading for the door, Serena nodded to the girl, who dismissed Serena with a defiant glance. Serena was surprised by the reaction, and then she asked herself how she would have reacted had the roles been reversed. Had the girl read pity in Serena's eyes? She decided on the spot to pitch a story about the strippers here at the club to her editor. That should get the guy's interest. She felt the man's eyes on her backside after passing the couple, and shook her head. She'd need a good shower after this, she thought. One figured that after spending all of one's time with horny college students one would get inured to such treatment, but for all their crassness, the college students she hung out with tended to inject a sense of levity and fun in their sexism and machismo, something utterly missing from this environment. Here, despite the fancy surroundings and the upbeat music and the bright colors, despair and hopelessness clung to everything. She slid a hand in her purse when she reached the door marked nine, and kept it on her pepper spray bottle. She knocked then opened the door. The small room was poorly lit, and held only a cushioned chair in its center, obviously intended for private lap dances. Serena had almost expected a cot in the corner for quickies. Then again, the carpeting was thick enough that it probably served as a reasonable alternative. There was a young man sitting in the chair, about eighteen years of age, with short hair and a good physique. He kept tapping his foot and looking around nervously. He trained his eyes on her as soon as she entered the room. "Serena?" "Who's asking?" She remained by the door, looking around. "Come in. We may need some privacy for this." "We'll see. You Snowman?" He nodded. He still looked nervous. "I am. You're here about MD, right? You asked about her availability?" Serena stepped into the room. Finally, some answers. "I am. I'm looking for entertainment for a party, and I've heard she's very very good. You... I'm sorry -- you just weren't who I was expecting." Snowman had sounded older on the phone. "Well, there's a reason for that. I'm not really him." Before Serena could react, a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind, pinning her own arms down. By reflex, she kicked back with her foot and the heel of her boot sank into a shin, and she was rewarded with a scream of pain from the man behind her. She bolted as soon as she felt the arms letting her go, and was at the door before the young man in the chair had time to move. The door was locked. Before she could turn around, she was grabbed again, and a wet cloth was pressed against her face. She tried to shout, but the pungent smell made the world spin once, then twice, and then everything went dark. * * * "So here we are," said Jenn. They had finished their meal, and had ordered desert. By some unspoken understanding, they both recognized it was time to talk. "Here we are indeed," replied Daniel. He cleared his throat. "I'll start. First off, let me just say that the last two months has been utterly mind-bogglingly fantastic. If your plan was to hook me more deeply, it worked like a charm. If the last weeks are a preview of what life is going to be like, then I'd be a moron to pass it up. And that's even if I weren't crazy in love with you." Jenn grinned, and sipped her wine. Daniel continued. "And that's the point, really. Everything else is academic. I love you, Jennifer Hansen, and I can't bear the thought of being away from you. And I know that the Blumberry is like a dream coming true, and I don't want to be the reason that you don't get a shot at that dream. So I say: onto Austin." Jenn shook her head. "I love you too, my sweet little romantic. And I also want to see you happy, and if passing up on the scholarship and staying on the East Coast is what it takes, I'll happily do it with no second thought. On the plus side, it would give me a chance to write that Great American Novel. I'm already accumulating a few ideas. By the way, can the Great American Novel be erotica?" "All right, then. So we're pretty much where we were a month ago. Great. It's a good thing I got this job offer from this place spitting distance from Austin then, to do the kind of thing I want to try doing. That'll save us some painful back and forth." "What?" It was Daniel's turn to grin. "I had a phone interview with them last week, and they want to fly me down after Christmas for a more in-depth chat, but they said the job is mine if I want it. I figure we could make it a joint trip and go visit UT Austin at the same time." Jenn was staring at him wide eyed. "Okay -- details, lover, details!" And he gave her the rundown of the Advanced American Institute for Democracy, what he had learned, the work for democratization and increased access to resources and facilities and the work in minority communities to train them and teach them and get them to participate in the civic process. Daniel had warmed up to this more hands-on approach to practical politics, almost activism, a far cry from the more theoretical work he had been focussing on at the university. He felt the change would do him good. Jenn remained silent when he had finished, looking at her glass of wine, lost in thought. Then she looked back up at him. "It's perfect, then. Everything is falling into place. Wow." "You sound like you weren't sure it would?" She shrugged. "Crossroads are funny. Never can tell what's going to happen when you get to one. I was serious, you know -- I would have given it up to stay with you." His tone of voice matched hers when he replied. "Which is what made it that much easier to decide. I would have too. You're worth any sacrifice." Jenn grinned, stood up, and went around the table. She leaned down towards him. "You so know how to talk to girls." She pressed her lips to his, and the soft kiss turned into a long soulful one that made Daniel completely forget he was seated in a rather classy restaurant. Jenn ran a finger down his face, a playful gleam in her eyes. "I'll be right back, lover." She turned around and walked away. Daniel's gaze followed he swaying form, and he admired the way her dress clung to her body like a sheath. She was perfect, and she was his. Or he was hers. An older lady at a nearby table gave him a look, and he shrugged sheepishly at her by way of apology for their display of affection, not feeling sorry for one second. He took out his cell phone, and sent Serena a quick text message asking if everything was okay. She did not answer. Probably deep in investigative mode, he figured. He hoped she was successful with her meeting. She had been quite upset by what Daniel had told her happened to Marjorie at the NADA thing, when she collapsed screaming in pain for no visible reason. Serena was worried something really bad had happened, and it was eating her up. He looked up from his phone when he heard the tell-tale sound his girlfriend's heel. Jenn sat back down at their table. "Here, this is for you." She extended a hand, waiting for him to extend his. He did, and she handed him a wad of red material. He looked at it, not understanding, and Jenn's Cheshire-cat smile did not afford him any clue. When he unfolded it, he blushed as he immediately recognized it for what it was -- a shockingly sheer red thong. He pocketed it quickly, and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. The old lady from earlier was looking at them with a disapproving frown on her face. The older man accompanying her was looking at Jenn with wonder. "What the hell are you doing?" whispered Daniel. "You can be such a prude sometimes!" Jenn's smile grew wider. "Life right now is perfect. Everything's perfect. And you know me -- when I'm happy, I get horny. You don't mind it when I'm horny, do you?" Daniel swallowed, thinking about his girlfriend naked underneath her dress, and was taken with the sudden urge to stand on his chair and loudly announce that he loved this girl. "Besides, I think I behaved very well. I did give them to you, after all. I toyed with the idea of just laying them on the table, you know, so that the waiter would see them, and perhaps start fantasizing about me." Speaking of the devil, the waiter arrived just then, carrying a bottle of champagne. Jenn looked up in surprise. "What's this?" "Something to celebrate with." The waiter popped open the bottle, and poured them two glasses. Jenn took hers, Daniel his. "To the Blumberry," he said. "To the Institute for Democracy," she replied. "To the most wonderful girl in the world." "To the most charming man in the universe." Daniel took a deep breath. "I think it's only fair that I give you something in exchange for what you gave me a few minutes ago..." "Huh, I don't think we girls have quite the same underwear fetish you guys do, lover." "Then it's a good thing it isn't what I had in mind..." He gently set a small box down on the table before her, and opened it. "Miss Jennifer Hansen, will you marry me?" Jenn's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, her eyes wide. She stared at the ring nestled inside the box for a long time, then up at Daniel, who despite all of his blustering was nervous. She looked up at him, softness in her eyes. "Of course I will." Daniel let out a breath he was not aware he had been holding. He grinned madly. She grinned right back, and before long they were both giggling like teenagers in love. She took out the ring from the book, and slipped it on. "It's beautiful," she said. "I did have some help in making the final choice." "Serena?" "Who else?" "Wait... she helped you choose? It's not what I would have expected her to go for." "Indeed. I had three choices down, and I went for the one she liked the least, the one with the simplest design. If it had been up to her, you'd have ended up with a huge rock that probably would have messed up your balance." Jenn's smile slowly turned into a frown. "What's wrong?" "Well, I gave you something, and then you gave me something in return, but I feel I got the most out of the exchange. Hardly seems fair." "I wouldn't quite put it that way, to be honest." "No, no, no. This partnership should start on an equitable footing." "What do you suggest?" "That we take care of the bill, and we go find somewhere quiet where I can show you in exquisite detail how much I'm looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you, Mister Malcolm. I mean, I already took care of removing one particular... obstacle..." Daniel motioned for the check. * * * When Serena came to, it took her a while to realize that what she was seeing an old wooden ceiling. She could feel straps on her body holding her down, but they were overkill. She could not move. Her limbs simply did not obey her commands. Except for her head, that she could move, though doing so made her dizzy. What happened? The last thing she could remember was being at the Spirited Flesh -- Snowman! "Ah, Miss Banks. Welcome back." Serena turned her head in the direction from which the voice had come. The speaker, a man perhaps in his late thirties, black hair, wearing a white lab coat, was sitting on a stool before a computer console lost on a desk amidst electronic equipment, notes, and what looked like home chemistry sets. The man looked familiar. "I'm sorry about the rather heavy-handed way my friends treated you back at the club. They can be rather juvenile at times. Nevertheless, you wanted to talk to me?" She finally recognized him. He was wearing a lab coat instead of a suit, but this was the man they saw with Marjorie in the back alley of the strip club a month ago. "You're... Snowman?" Speaking was difficult. "The same," the man replied. "Although you can call me Cargyle. Doctor Cargyle. Snowman was a bit of a joke carried too far too long. How are you feeling?" The doctor stood and walked to Serena, putting two fingers on her neck as if checking her pulse, a rather redundant gesture since she seemed to be hooked up to a beeping monitor displaying all her vital signs. "Where's... where's Marjorie?" The doctor looked at Serena silently for several seconds. "Yes, this is what brought you here, isn't it? Your quest to find your friend?" He shook his head. "I told those kids it was a bad idea to keep her activated her for such long periods of time. Besides the risk of psychotic breakdown, I was worried someone would notice when she disappeared for long periods of time. Like you did. But does anyone listen to the doctor? No, of course not. They all like the doctor and especially all the goodies he brings to the party and they are willing to welcome him to the ranks, but listen to him? Blasphemy -- can't have that." Serena had no idea what the doctor was going on about. But the more he talked, the more chance she had of learning something useful, and it bought her extra time. She was clearly in some sort of laboratory, as suggested by all the equipment, both computerized and medical, although not a very advanced one. It looked as if it had been set up in a basement. In fact, the walls were stone, indicating a cellar. Ever the journalist, she tried to observe and remember as many details as she could so as to be able to later reconstruct where she had been. Her endeavors were almost forgotten when she saw who was lying down in a gurney a few feet from her. Marjorie! The photographer looked asleep, except that her eyes were open and staring up at the ceiling, utterly expressionless. "Marjorie! Hey Marge. It's me, Serena! I've been looking for you everywhere. Marge! You okay? Marge? Fuck, what have you done to her, you bastard?" She still could not move anything but her head, so she settled for following Snowman -- Doctor Cargyle -- with eyes spitting venom as he circled her and approached the unresponsive Marjorie. "Yes, well," said the doctor, after running a finger down Marjorie's face, who did not react to the touch. "I guess you did find your friend after all, Miss Banks. I have to congratulate you on your perseverance. As to what happened to her, to be honest, I am not entirely sure. If you allow me to be glib, then I would say that most of her brain is fried. Utterly and irremediably fried." He shook his head. "I told you, they don't listen to me. I warned them that the programming I give the girls is crude -- I mean, look at this equipment, it's practically prehistoric -- and becomes unstable when a girl is kept activated for too long. Marjorie was my latest experiment in making the programming more stable, by using a slightly different technique to imprint behavior changes on a more permanent basis, but she was still not ready. They wanted someone that they could not only enjoy for themselves but also send out to parties and other events and provide the frat with some money, or status, or something. Who knows? So they put her up to it. I tried to stay with her and keep an eye on her, but to no avail. Now, her programming is pretty much all she has left." "Programming? Girls? Oh my God -- the dick girls! You've hypnotized them!" Doctor Cargyle looked at her with a mix of admiration and disdain. "Dick girls! What a stupid term. But what else can we expect from frat boys that can't be bothered to change their underwear? I'm impressed you figured out that much, Miss Banks. But I have to correct you on one point. It's not hypnosis. It's a mixture of drugs, direct neural stimulation, and sensory programming. Somewhat artisanal, given my setup, and I guess to a layman the effects might look the same as hypnosis." "So you just take girls and what? Turn them into whores?" Doctor Cargyle looked pained. "No, Miss Banks, that's not the idea. I'm not turning them into anything. I'm simply continuing my research into psychoneurology, trying to crack the code of the brain. The potential benefit for mankind is incalculable: senility, Alzheimer's, schizophrenia, crippling anxiety, all could be a thing of the past. But I ran into some... huh... problems with former employers of mine, and the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity was kind enough to provide me a sanctuary to let me keep a low profile while my troubles blew over. As a small token of gratitude for their kindness, I agreed to provide them with... well, you know." "The dick girls are programmed to be whores for the frat boys. How nice. And thus, the bracelets..." Doctor Cargyle nodded. "Yes, the bracelets." He looked over at a box on the corner of the desk, which contained a large supply of silver charms. "They serve as an anchor for the programming -- crude, but effective. And those girls are but a small price to pay to further science. Besides, they are unaware of the programming they have been subjected to, don't remember the time spent while activated, and are generally unharmed by their experiences." "Except Marjorie." The doctor frowned. "Yes, except Marjorie." He looked down at Marjorie, who was still staring off into space, completely unaware of anything going on around her. A faraway look of his own on his face, Doctor Cargyle ran a finger over her lips, then inserted the tip between them. Instantly, Marjorie closed her eyes and started his finger into her mouth, in a clear mimicry of a perfectly executed blow job, thrusting her head up to meet the unmoving finger, twirling her tongue around the tip and on the underside of the invading digit as it went in. Her hips were moving in time with her sucking, and she moaned softly. When the doctor pulled his finger out, her tongue trailed after it, and a whine of frustration escaped the girl. Then she went back to her catatonic state. "A shame, really," continued the doctor, wiping his finger on his lab coat, "she was such a wonderful research subject. And imaginative, too. You see, programming someone is an art. You don't want a robot. Well, some folks do want robots. But for best effect, you want someone that can take elements of their own personality and wrap them around their programming, so that the programming is enhanced -- magnified by whatever personality traits are in the subject. It's really beautiful how it works. In Marjorie here, it was almost a perfect combination. She took to sex like a fish to water. Did you know she had slept with only two men before the fraternity got its hands on her? You can say we opened her eyes to the world out there. Of course, now, she is no longer in any kind of state to appreciate it, except at the most primitive level. Such a shame." Doctor Cargyle moved a hand to Marjorie's legs and slipped it under the short grey dress she had on. She did not react, nor show any emotion until he touched her crotch, or so Serena surmised. She saw Marjorie throw her head back against the gurney, arch her spine, and spread her legs while pulling up her knees. She thrust her hips forward, and a moan escape her as the doctor worked his hand rhythmically. He was finger fucking her, that was pretty clear, and she was enjoying every second of it, that was equally clear. Her moans grew gradually more intense, her trashing wilder, her pelvic thrusts more violent, until her mouth locked into an O of surprise and she tensed up like an elastic band about to snap before letting out a wail as a massive orgasm hit her and caused her to shiver uncontrollably until finally she collapsed back onto the gurney, eyes closed, a serene smile on her face. The doctor pulled his hand out from under her dress, and he again wiped his wet fingers on his lab coat. "Amazing how responsive she still is, no? She's essentially catatonic until she's touched in a sexual way, and then she goes into the automatic part of her programming. I am not sure exactly the mechanisms at play here -- by all accounts, even her programming should be disabled. And yet..." He sighed. "If only I had more time with her, I might be able to learn from this event. Alas, it has been decided that we must get rid of her." The doctor looked genuinely sad, but Serena was certain it was not because of the ruined life lying before him, but rather his ruined experiment. She was angry, and not a little bit scared. "What are you going to do, kill her?" The doctor reacted as if he had been slapped. "Dear Lord, no! What do you think I am? A murderer? No, the fraternity has arranged to have her transported to a facility where she will still be useful, even in her degenerate condition. Her only skill right now is sexual satisfaction, and she's been sold to a group in East Asia that will employ her in a sexual-services facility that caters to more, shall we say, extreme tastes than normal." Serena was aghast. "You've sold her into slavery? That's... you're a monster!" "She will be useful, and have a purpose. Other than that, she's completely brain dead. At least, this way, she gets to give pleasure, and as you saw, receive it." The man was insane, Serena realized. She willed her body to struggle against her bonds, with no effect. When she looked up at the doctor, he was filling a syringe carefully. "What are you going to do to me?" The doctor flipped the syringe and flicked the needle with a finger to remove any air bubble. "Well, Miss Banks, you must admit that you have been something of a pain lately, and you have uncovered more about my presence here than I find comfortable. Granted, I do have a tendency to talk too much. Now, since I need a new subject for my research, seeing as my former subject is now out of service, you will fill that role nicely. I have been meaning to experiment with selective memory alteration anyways, so we can ensure that you will not remember what has transpired tonight, or whatever happened to your friend Marjorie. And if we can convince the frat brothers to treat you well, you should not suffer from the adverse effects that Marjorie here has." He glanced at Marjorie, still motionless on her gurney, then turned to Serena. "You are a beautiful woman, Miss Banks, and the brothers here will be more than happy to have you are around as their new girl." The doctor tied an elastic band high on Serena's arm, then set the needle of the syringe against the skin in the crook of her elbow. Before she could fully comprehend what the doctor had in store for her, a wave of dizziness engulfed her, and in the last few minutes before the darkness claimed her for the second time in just a few hours, she felt the doctor snapping a bracelet on her wrist and welding it shut. * * * Daniel barely had time to unlock the door to their place before Jenn attacked him. Her kisses were feverish, and she pushed his back against the wall so she could press her body against his. He could taste the champagne on her breath -- they had brought the bottle with them from the restaurant and very nearly finished it on the cab ride back. Jenn ran her hands on the sides of Daniel's body, pulling his shirt out of his trousers to reach his skin. Her tongue was deep in Daniel's mouth, exploring, tasting, seeking his to fence with. He pulled her against him, and she responded by thrusting her pelvis at him. His hands ran down her back and pulled up her dress enough to be able to palm the top of one thigh and a cheek, amazed as usual by the softness of her skin. Jenn moaned in his mouth at the touch, then pulled out of the embrace just enough to unbutton his shirt. Foreseeing that the entryway would not be the most comfortable place to continue this, he hedged towards the living room, Jenn following him with a slight whine as if to ask where he was going. In the cab over, they had not talked, only drunk from the champagne bottle and made out. Daniel had seen the cab driver, an older taciturn man, look at them through his rearview mirror after surreptitiously adjusting it to get a better view. Daniel had tried to say something to Jenn while she had been lavishly kissing his neck, and all he had gotten out of her was a shrug, and she had moved to straddle his lap after pulling the skirt of her dress up, presumably giving the driver a perfect money shot of her behind. Daniel had thought "what the hell" and had surrendered himself to the heady feeling of his girlfriend -- his beautiful, loving, sexy girlfriend, now fiancee -- wiggling on top of his now raging erection. His hands had rested on her thighs, as her moans had suggested that was where his hands ought to be. Daniel had almost put a stop to it when Jenn had playfully reached back and pulled down the zipper of her dress and bared her chest. No bra, he had noted -- the bustier of the dress must have played double bill there -- and her nipples had been bright red and hard, clamoring for attention, attention that he had been more than ready to provide. He had dived in, sucking on them with the intensity of a starving baby, in just the way he knew Jenn enjoyed, and he had been rewarded by her tossing her head back, her hair spilling out of her clips, and letting out a lust-filled groan that reverberated in the cab. The driver, who had been undoubtedly enraptured by watching the sexy brunette overcome by her emotions, had had to jerk hard on the steering wheel to avoid driving into a pole. Thankfully, they had been close to home by then, and Jenn had just had enough time to rearrange her top and pull down her skirt before the cab stopped by the curb in front of their place. Daniel had paid the cab driver, barely able to meet the man's eyes, while the latter was telling him he was a lucky boy. Jenn had lingered by the side of the cab, talking to the driver through his door window, while Daniel had climbed the stairs to unlock the front door. He had heard her crystal laughter ringing in the quiet night air before she ran up the stairs to meet him and kiss him so hard their lips would be bruised the next day. And now they were in the living room and Jenn had pushed Daniel down to the floor and had unzipped her dress again and had let it fall and pool at her feet, and she stood above him like every man's wet dream, naked but for a pair of thigh-highs and red spike heels, long hair wild after having been trapped in her clips for the better part of the evening. She posed for a few seconds, smiling at Daniel adoring look, then she pounced, kneeling on his legs, pulling on his still unfastened trousers and boxer shorts, and exposing his hard shaft. She cooed at it while wrapping her hand around it, and slowly rubbed her hand up and down a few times, as if she was judging its heft. She seemed satisfied because very soon she scooted up and straddled his hips, the head of his cock lined up right against her pussy lips. She kissed him again, a slow burning kiss that seemed to suck his soul out of his lungs, and in that momentary distraction Jenn managed to reach down and push his cock inside her, and Daniel cried out when he felt an almost intolerable heat cradling his sensitive organ. Jenn merely grinned and kissed him harder, rocking her hips back and forth in a slow fucking motion that was more tease than anything else. She straightened up, tossed her hair back, and in slow but forceful strokes fucked herself on his jutting cock. His hands moved up to cup her breasts, and her hands joined his and pressed hard, massaging her breasts roughly. She looked down at him, and smiled a naughty smile. "You think that cab driver would have liked to see us like this? He did look like a bit of a perv, didn't he? Staring at us like that?" So she had known the driver had been looking at them, thought Daniel. "Love, any man that goes for girls would have been turned on by you and would have given a ball and a half to see you naked like this, and his remaining half-ball to fuck you like this." She laughed, and rocked harder on his cock. "It turned me on to feel his eyes on me, you know? I could just feel them on my back, when I unzipped my dress, and on my ass when I pulled my skirt up. I wanted to turn around and push my boobs up and go 'tada!' just to see him drool over them. Does that make me a bad girl?" Daniel thrust his hips up to go against her own pushes, achieving a deep penetration that made Jenn moan. "You have a perfect body, love. Makes sense that you want to show it off..." He was happy to go along with her fantasy. "Perhaps he would have stopped the cab," she continued, her eyes into Daniel's, "and turned around and touched them -- my boobs. I would have let him, you know, would have liked to feel that stranger's hands on them, squeezing them, twisting my nipples, with you next to me, watching, perhaps rubbing your hands on my thigh, up to my dripping wet pussy. With you next to me, my perfect lover, my knight." Daniel moved his hands down to her sides to pull her down on him forcefully, and she gasped, her hips jerking out of control for a second. "Fuck, that felt so good! Fuck me hard! Fuck, I'd have given him a good show, too -- I'd have leaned back in the seat, spread my legs wide and played with my pussy, rubbing and pinching before thrusting one then two then more fingers inside. With both of you watching, getting hard, both of you wanting to take me, to fuck me, you, the perfect lover and love of my life, and him, the stranger, the old pervert, who probably fantasizes every night about all the young sluts that take his cab and that never offer him anything in return." She leaned over Daniel and lowered her voice. "Perhaps I should have paid for all those girls that turn him on day in day out, and let him fuck me? Do you think he might have enjoyed that, to sink his cock into this tight pussy of mine? I mean, he certainly seemed interested earlier, when you were unlocking the door and I tipped him by giving him my thong." That stopped Daniel in his tracks. "You did what?" "I slipped it out of your jacket in the cab, and gave it to him. You should have seen his face too -- he got all red, I thought he'd pop a brain vessel. You know he's probably jerking off into my panties right now, rubbing them over his cock, imagining it's me all around it, squeezing it and milking it, his sexy passenger with the tight dress making out with her fiancee in the back of his cab." Somehow the image was too much for Daniel, who took hold of Jenn before flipping her onto her back and thrusting himself between her legs. She moaned and laughed at the same time, spreading her legs wide to offer him better access and pulling him to her, kissing him once he had sheathed himself fully once more. "Fuck yes," she groaned as he pulled out and thrust in again, the sound of their skin slapping together loud in the empty apartment. "Come on, fuck me -- just like that cabbie wanted to -- hard, so hard. Fuck me!" She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he was driven wild by the feel of her nylons against his hips. He put his hands on the ground on either side of her head for leverage, and drove into her at a frenetic pace. He vaguely noticed when she clenched and went rigid as an orgasm ripped through her, and kept fucking her madly, thrusting into her so hard that he was pushing them both across the floor. He shouted when he came, thrusting deep into his girlfriend, while she gently ran her hands over his back, soothing him as he emptied himself inside her. He collapsed in a heap next to her, and they lay on the floor, spent. Daniel eventually broke the silence. "And here we are," he sighed, "on the floor again." "It is a particularly comfy carpet." "We'll have to make sure we get one like this when we get our house." "Listen to you, Mister Domestic." "It'd be nice, no? Having our own place?" She was silent after that. "You know how sometimes your life seems to change very fast in a short period of time. That last month was like that for me. Lots happened." He pushed up on one elbow to look at her. She was staring at the ceiling, hands behind her head. "Too much?" She looked back at him. "No. Just enough." They kissed. * * * Doctor Cargyle was at the computer when Serena came out of her drug-induced unconsciousness. Her programming -- her adjustment, as his old employers had called it -- had gone without a hitch, like most of the girls he had supplied to the fraternity. The only question mark was the modifications he had made to support the memory alterations, a variation from what he had used on Marjorie Duquesne. Serena's stirring brought him out of his reverie. He went to her side, glancing at the monitor that summarized her vital signs. He looked at the silver charms bracelet on her wrist. He had disliked the bracelets at first -- they were a constant reminder of how backwards was the technology he had to work with here -- but they had grown on him. They were a testimony to the fact that no matter what happened, he had the wits to survive. Every bracelet he put on a girl was an assertion of his resourcefulness and wherewithal. "What happened? Daniel?..." Serena was disoriented, a common side-effect of the drug cocktail necessary to facilitate the programming. "Miss Banks? Serena?" Doctor Cargyle leaned down and gently turned her head towards him. Her eyes had some difficulty focussing. He said the code words that the frat -- those stupid kids -- had elected to use as their trigger: "I am your dick brother." Her eyes immediately flashed to his left hand, where he sported the fraternity ring that the president had given him, and her body stiffened momentarily before relaxing once more. He noted that reactions with clinical detachment. The core programming seemed to have taken. Of course, he had ways of accessing the programming of his subjects in different ways that did not necessitate the ring, but this ensured that she responded to the trigger that would be most commonly used. The doctor then ran Serena through his usual post-programming tests, to which Serena submitted without complaints, never losing her calm neutral expression. So busy was he with his test suite that he almost missed the two fraternity brothers at the laboratory door. "Hey Doc. Sorry to disturb, but we're here to take care of the retard. The truck's arrived. She's supposed to be on that freighter in a couple of hours. She ready?" Without even looking, the doctor acquiesced, and pointed to Marjorie still lying in her gurney, now strapped in. "Yes, yes. There she is. Be careful with her, please." "Of course." They were setting themselves up to grab the gurney when one of the brothers glanced at Serena. "Hey, is this a new girl? Man, she's a real looker that one. Love the chocolate skin. And check out those lips!" "Forget the lips -- look at that rack on her! When's she gonna be available, Doc?" "The usual, give it a few days. I have more tests to run with this one. She's special." "She's special all right. Fuck, can't wait to have her begging to suck my cock!" He laughed, and he and his friend lifted the gurney with Marjorie and made for the door. "You may want to say goodbye to your friend Marjorie now, Serena. I doubt you will see her again, and if you do, well, I fear neither of you will have the mental presence to even realize it." Serena turned her head slowly towards her friend. "Goodbye, Marjorie." Her voice was pleasant, relaxed. She then turned her attention back towards the doctor, who was continuing his monologue. "Okay then. The basic routines seem to have been implanted correctly. Step two, we test the basic programming to make sure you are in position to please your new frat brothers out there -- you heard the kids, you're going to be quite a hit -- then we make sure your medium and short-term memory have been suitably adjusted -- wouldn't want you to remember all that you learned about us, or even that something funny has happened to Miss Duquesne, do we? No, as far as you're concerned, Marjorie told you she had suffered a nervous breakdown and was going back to spend some time at a private institution to rest, and you will have no more compulsion to investigate. How does that sound to you, Serena?" Serena blinked, and offered a small smile. "Whatever pleases you, Sir." The doctor nodded, then went to lock the laboratory door. He was unfastening his trousers when he came back. "Well, then, let's start. First off, oral skills. Let's see how much you know about giving head, Serena. As the kid said, you do have some particularly fetching lips." Serena's smile became wolfish as she watched the doctor strip. "With pleasure, Sir." THE END of Book I: Whatever Happened to Marjorie Duquesne?

Author: Bulgroz the Third Title: The Adjusters #18 - A Day in the Life (I) Keywords: MF, mc Posted: July 4, 2011 Edited: July 4, 2011 The Adjusters #18 A Day in the Life (I) The light of the new day snuck its way into Cindy Caprese's bedroom through the curtains and woke her up. Filtered through the orange material, the morning sunlight acquired the warm and welcoming hue that never failed to put a smile on the blonde girl's face. She stretched like a cat, basking in that magical moment when her mind was emerging slowly from slumber. She glanced at the clock. A touch past seven. She had nothing planned until eleven, so nothing conspired to make her miss her appreciation of the morning. There were faint whispers and giggles from the other side of the wall to her right. Cindy listened a few moments, then grinned. Her roommate Melinda had her boyfriend, Chris, over the previous evening, and from the sound of it must have spent the night. Cindy had fallen asleep to the sounds of their coupling, and she was ready to bet that she was fated to wake up in the same manner. As if to confirm her assessment, a loud moan made its way through the paper thin walls, followed by a louder. "Fuck yes, Christ! Just put it in!" and then a "Oh god! Yes! That's it! Right there!" Whatever Chris (Christ? She'd have to tease Melinda about that one!) was doing must be to Melinda's liking, thought Cindy, because her friend had come three or four times the previous night, loudly, with great force of obscenities, and she seemed of the same mindset this morning. Chris, on the other hand, seemed more the silent type. Cindy lazily listened to her roommate getting an excellent lay in the next room. She thought about her own love life. Melinda had been hooking up with Chris -- a boyfriend of the "Fuck me harder! Come on! Shove it in, you bastard! Fuck! Yes!" variety -- for a month now, and she was glowing. Cindy had not had a date since, well, it seemed like forever. Were she to think about it, she would probably have to face the fact that she had not dated since her freshman year. It was not for lack of suitors, but she had come to the realization that dating was not for her. She tried, for sure, and she had a few flings her first semester on campus. But it had not been satisfying. It was not the same. None of the guys she had gone out with had been right, none had had what it took. In short, none of them had been Farid. That was the plain and painful truth. She missed the sex, missed it terribly. But Farid had broken something in her. (Really? Was it really broken? Or did he just show her how broken she already was? She did not know. Did she even want to know?) She had enough things that she wanted to do that letting men fall to the way-side had been too easy. Her pre-med program had quickly taken most of her time anyways. She did not follow up, switching to Economics in her second year, but she never looked back. But she had to admit "God -- come on, grab my my tits! That's what you want, isn't it? To squeeze my tits hard?" Cindy smiled. Whatever else Melinda might be -- somewhat of a bookish nerd, with a tendency to enjoy cheap science-fiction books and movies that veered on the mentally unhealthy -- restrained during sex she was not. How she and Chris, affable and quiet and giving the distinct impression of never having raised his voice above a loud whisper, ended up together and especially stayed together was one of those mysteries better left to future anthropologists to study. "Come on! Squeeze! Harder! Aaargh! Now push -- inside! Fuck yes! Yes!" She had always thought she was not particularly restrained herself, sexually speaking. At least, that had been the picture in her own mind. But the first times she was faced with the possibility of sex, in middle school, she blocked. It was not shyness, nor was it self-consciousness. She did not know what it was. She had blocked. Just blocked. She had not been able to make the first steps, and had resisted the steps that her companion had made. She had wanted it, badly. But she just could not do it. Until Farid, that is. Until Farid had gotten under her skin, in high school. He had shown her that she was indeed open to sex. He had introduced her to kinky sex, and she had taken to it like a fish to water. And Farid certainly liked his sex kinky. He was extremely visual, was always pushing her to dress up more and show off her body. He loved to see her on her knees blowing him, and preferred pretty much anything over straight intercourse: foot jobs, tit jobs, rubbing his dick between her thighs, preferably while she wore stockings. He liked coming in her mouth, or on her chest, or in the small of her back, and loved nothing more than making her rub his semen into her skin. And she loved it back. All of it. That he ate pussy like a god was not to be dismissed either. "Pull my legs up -- pull my legs up you fuck! I wanna feel your chest on my thighs! Yeah! God -- like that, just like that! Ugh! Fuck yes, deeper! Push on 'em! Push on my legs! Fuck! Yes!" How had Farid done it? What was the key that he used to unlock her sexuality? Somehow, he had recognized what was deep inside her, the seething desire, the smoldering volcano of her lust. He had known what she had herself been unable to figure out, that she needed to be pushed through her blockage. She would not or could not do it by herself, someone else had to do it. And Farid had pushed. Farid had loved to push. He wanted her. He had taken her. She resisted at first -- like always -- but he pushed harder, and she yielded. With her whole soul. And once she had yielded, she was his. He had played with her, had used her -- like a masturbatory aid at times more than anything else -- and she had been more than delighted to oblige. She had basked in it, the release, the letting go. The full and complete abdication of responsibility. She could not do it on her own. But Farid had pushed her through her own wall, and she had surrendered her body and her mind to him. And he had taken advantage of it to its fullest. "Ugh! Oh yes, that's it, like that! Push on 'em! Oh -- you like that, you fucking perv, don't you -- to push my legs apart like that, like a fucking whore, keeping me open so you can stuff that fat cock of yours up my cunt? Oh! Fuck! Oooh! Come here and kiss me and then fuck me, you fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Yes!" When Farid dropped her like a used whore, right after prom night (and what a prom night it had been -- she still shivered when she thought about it) she was devastated, but part of her, the level-headed rational part of her, figured that her wall had been breached, and that once she had recovered from the heartbreak, she would be able to find another boy. But it had not worked. The wall was still there, solid as ever. Only Farid had known how to push her through it. And Farid was gone. She had despaired of ever having sex again, ever feeling free again. Even when desire was choking her up, she was blocked. Like two weeks ago, when she was sitting on Daniel's lap at that party, and she had felt his erection underneath her, pressing into her ass, and it had turned her on so much, and she was hoping so hard that he would just kiss her and caress her and disregard her protests and just take her -- but no, Daniel was too nice, too polite, too considerate. And then last year the Delta Iota Kappa boys had worked their voodoo on her, and turned her into their play thing. When she had woken up in that little lab with that older man calling himself the Doctor, she had at first been terrified, but had eventually understood that she had been drugged, and that the Doctor had used her drug-induced haze to implant deep subliminal suggestions into her mind. She had almost asked the Doctor about them before she realized from his words that he had not expected her to know about it, and she figured that she might be in real trouble if he did find out. The Delta Iota Kappa boys had been using her for a week as a sex toy -- a week of non-stop sex that left her glowing with pleasure -- before she discovered that the suggestions had begun to fade in the background, eventually barely affecting her more than as an annoying voice in the back of her mind. But they were still embedded in her psyche deeply enough to breach the wall blocking her own desires, and when the frat boys triggered her, she felt the same freedom that she had enjoyed with Farid, and basked in it and enjoyed the sex with the boys. They did not know any better -- she was not controlled, but she happily served them. She stripped for them, sucked them, fucked them. All things she had done for Farid, all things that Farid had made her do. As a whole, the frat boys were fairly unimaginative, except for a few of the older ones that had enough of a mean streak to thoroughly enjoy dominating and humiliating the girls. And of course, there had been Biff, who had all the subtlety of a thick-headed bull and the sexual appetite of a freakish rabbit. For all his faults, though, he had a dick to match, and she had had her fair share of orgasms as he plowed his large tool into her. All in all, whatever the Doctor had done to her had allowed her to enjoy sex again. And all that the boys wanted, really, was another pretty little thing to use as a fuck toy, and if there was one thing that Cindy had learned to do well was to be a pretty little fuck toy. She did feel moderately guilty sometimes about the other girls they had ensnared, but she had managed to convince herself that they got as much out of it as she had. "Is that all you got? Fuck! My baby brother can fuck better than that! Get off me -- on your back -- There, don't move! Ooooh! Fuck! Don't you fuckin' move till I've you all inside! Fuck! Oh! Oh! Yes! Fuckin' big in my pussy! Oh fuck! Okay, now move, push it in, push -- Oh! Oh! Yes!" Cindy smiled, imagining curvy Melinda sitting on top of Chris's hard dick and sliding up and down, probably playing with her breasts while Chris tried to hold on to her hips for dear life. Cindy's own hand strayed to one of her breasts, cupping the full, fleshy mound and tweaking a nipple for good measure. It responded promptly, sending a spark of arousal down her body all the way to her toes. As she played with her breasts, she thought back to her life as a Delta Iota Kappa girl, before her chat with Jackson which led her to give up her charms bracelet, which she knew deep down inside was linked to the trigger they had given her. She did not know exactly how it worked, but there was a link. And now that it was gone, she feared that she had lost the one chance she had to let her sexual side go free. But there had been no hesitation to give it all up. Her hand was squeezing her breasts harder now, while her other hand had trailed down her body and slid under the waist band of the lace panties she had on -- she liked to sleep in pretty things, imagining that she was putting on a show for a fantasy lover -- and she was slowly using the tip of her finger on one sensitive pussy lip. She could feel her juices running, and smiled at the thought of the pleasure soon to come. Her fingers edged their way up towards her clit. "Come on, grab my ass, you bastard! What kind of man are you? That's right, grab it hard -- Oh! Come on, push me down, force me down on your cock, rub my clit down against you -- Oh fuck! Yes! Harder! Fuck! Yes!" Cindy's fingers had found her clit, and she was playing with it the way she liked it, teasing the hard button by flicking it lightly, then rubbing hard at the base, her other hand doing something similar to her nipple. She was horny, as was usually the case early in the morning. A female morning boner, Farid had called it, and he had often sat down to watch her pleasure herself in front of him, for him. Thinking about being a toy for the frat boys just made her even hornier. What would happen now? If she were triggered by a brother, would it breach the wall again, let her enjoy herself with a man? No one had since that day when she gave up the bracelet. But it did not matter, not really. She was now there for Daniel, and she was intent on helping him through his difficult time, while his fiancee was at the hands of Biff. (At least she's going to get the fucking of her life, Cindy though.) Thinking about Daniel made her clit-diddling finger move faster, and without conscious thought she brought it and others fingers down her slit and slowly, carefully, slipped them inside her hot and wet entrance. The penetration made her skip a breath, but she recovered, and before too long she was thrusting her fingers in and out, the hand on her breast now squeezing harder. She spread her legs further apart, kicking the covers off. If only Daniel could see her now, legs apart, fucking herself with her own fingers. The thought of putting on such a wanton show for him, just for his pleasure, made her push her fingers deeper insider her, and her hips lifted off the bed to facilitate the penetration. It felt good, very good, her thumb pressing against her clit providing additional stimulation. "No way -- you're not coming, not now! You fucking bastard! Pull out, now. No, don't you dare touch that cock! If you come now, I first kick you in the balls, then I kick you out and you're not fucking ever getting into this pussy again, got that? Good!" Some mumbling. "Then quit staring at my tits if it does! Here, you wanna stare at my ass instead? How about I stay here like this until you get yourself under control and then you can shove that cock of yours into me from behind? Oh fuck! Already? Oh yes! Like that! Don't you fuckin' come, you hear me? Oh fuck, yes! Deeper! Harder! Like that! Harder! Harder!" Poor Chris, smiled Cindy, her own fingers thrusting harder in rhythm with Melinda's vocalizations. She wondered how Daniel would fuck her -- slowly and lovingly, hard and dispassionately, or something in between? Would he lavish attentions on her titties? On her pussy? On her ass? He certainly stole glances at her legs like most boys around campus did, something that invariably made her juice up. She lifted up her legs, as if to show them off to an invisible Daniel at the foot of the bed, the movement sending her thrusting fingers into a different part of her pussy, making her moan. Her fingers were not enough. Reluctantly, she interrupted herself long enough to reach over to her nightstand and pull out a large, realistic dildo. Daniel junior, she had called it, feeling utterly naughty when she did. She sank back on the bed, one hand going back to teasing her clit, and the other slowly pushing the dildo in her mouth, her favorite lubrication method. As she sucked on the hard rubber shaft, her mind went back to the party two weeks ago, remembering how Daniel had felt underneath her, holding her in his arms, how hard his dick had been. As hard as the rubber in her mouth. She slobbered on the artificial shaft, picturing Daniel at the end of it, imagining she was driving him wild with desire. She had been so jealous of Kyra for actually sucking him off in that bathroom. She lined up the now saliva-drenched dildo with her pussy and thrust it in and it went in easily despite its size, and she moaned while images ran through her mind, images of her kneeling on the floor at Daniel's feet instead of Kyra and giving him one of her filthiest blow jobs, the kind that used to drive Farid wild, and finishing him off by taking his cum into her mouth, just to taste it, just to feel it fill her mouth and slide down her throat. Would Daniel be like with Farid, loving to come in her mouth, and on her face, and and in her hair, and on her tits, and pretty much anywhere on her body? Did Daniel liked to see his lovers drenched in cum, dripping with semen, covered in a thick glaze of man juice? She was sawing the dildo in and out now, her breathing ragged. "God -- that it, fuck me, you bastard! You like this -- fucking me from behind like a two-cent whore? You like to see my ass shake like that? Fuck! Harder dammit! You probably just like fucking me like that so you can fantasize about fucking someone else -- fuck yes! Like that! Hard! Again! Again! Ah! You like that, you bastard, don't you? Probably thinking about Cindy on her hands and knees with her cute little ass in the air and fucking her hard! Fuck! I've see you looking at her, practically drooling like a horny retard. Fuck she's probably right there listening and wishing it was her that you were fucking with that hard cock! Oh! Yes! Harder!" Cindy grinned. Melinda, you little sleaze, leave me out of this. The dildo was doing its job, she was feeling herself getting closer and closer to sweet oblivion. Again, she thought back to the party, how part of her had wanted Daniel to grab her head and thrust it down on his dick and made her suck him, deep, her mouth filling with his dick. And how she had wanted him to pull her on his lap and force her to sit down on his dick, and the thought of sitting down with her legs spread wide with Daniel's dick plowing into her as he pistoned her up and down, naked and dripping with slobber while she danced on his hard shaft made her thrust the dildo even harder, eliciting squishy noises from her juicing pussy. "Fuck me! I'm close! So close! Fuck me hard! Hard! Again! Oh! Again! Oh! Oh! Oh! That's it! I'm gonna come! Put... oh! Put your thumb... Fuck! Oh! Put your thumb in my ass! Yes! Yes! Please! Please! Put it in... Oh! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! That's it! Right there! Fuck! Deeper! I'm there! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yeeeees!" Cindy kept on grinning right through Melinda's banshee scream of pleasure, getting closer and closer to her own orgasm. Daniel Junior was fucking her, hard and deep, filling up every nook and cranny, stretching her wide. She would be good, she told herself, she would not throw herself at Daniel hoping for him to fuck her until she was reasonably certain that he wanted her for herself and not because he was hurting over Jenn. But that did not mean that she could not fantasize about spreading her legs for him and letting him plow into her however he wanted, wherever he wanted, as often as he wanted -- letting him fuck her with her legs shoved above her head, or from behind, or fuck her mouth, or her tits, or strip for him and dance for him and dress up for him and fuck herself for him and degrade herself for him and offer her body and her heart and her soul to him to do with as he wished. The thought ran on as she slid her free hand under her ass and spread her leaking juices all over her little rosette with one finger before shoving the dildo faster and faster into her pussy while she thrust one finger inside her ass, and that rush sent her over the edge and with one deep thrust the dildo was in deep and her finger was in deep and her body clenched up as if seizing and her world exploded in a shower of orange-hued sparks and she came with Daniel's name on her lips. * * * "And again, I maintain that this is but a travesty of justice, a shameful wool pulled over our collective eyes, an attempt at misdirection to further political means of the Establishment, inherent on maintaining the same status quo that has kept our great nation down." Serena Banks grunted, not bothering to take any notes. This press conference was a joke -- so many words to say absolutely nothing. Just another platform for them to spew their intolerance rhetoric. The other reporters at the conference were already bombarding Steve Bissonette, the speaker and de facto head of the campus branch of the New American Deal Association, with their predictably softball questions. Serena bid her time. There was no rush, and plenty of time to hand Bissonette the cord with which he would hopefully hang himself. Ten minutes later, after the barrage of questions had petered out, came the lull she had been waiting for. She raised her hand. "Mister Bissonette. Serena Banks from the Darnell Daily. How do you respond to the allegations that your organization was a key player in the prostitution ring busted right before Christmas by the Feds?" The speaker stared at her with eyes that seemed to seep with anger. "Miss Banks, there is not a shred of evidence that NADA was involved in any illegal activity, let alone prostitution. We hold women sacred, as the strong core at the heart of nuclear families, which are themselves the nuclei of the steel that underlies the American ideal. Those allegations you refer to are slander, pure and simple slander! And we shall have our day in court, and everyone --" "Mister Bissonette, what about the testimony of one Miss Duquesne, detailing her mistreatment at the hands of NADA?" Bissonette opened his mouth to respond when a man standing next to him leaned over and whispered in his ear. Bissonette nodded. "I have been advised," he said, "to not comment on the impending court case. But we shall prevail, and the truth will out!" Serena grunted once more, then turned towards the man that had sat down next to her while she was asking her questions. He had a little smile on his face, and he was looking squarely at her. She had seen him before, but could not remember where. He was striking -- blonde hair and pale blue eyes, probably scandinavian. Sharp pants and a nice shirt, high fashion for the campus. He looked too young to be a professor. Then she noted the fraternity ring on his finger. Ah, she said to herself, that's where I know him from -- a Delta Iota Kappa boy. "May I help you?" she asked, wanting him to go away, trying to keep track of what the next question was and of Bissonette's response. "I hope so," said the young man with the pale blue eyes. He had a slight accent. Definitely scandinavian, she mused. He was perfectly composed, and looked more serious than the Delta Iota Kappa boys usually were, and seemed to old to be an undergraduate. Serena turned her attention back to Bissonette, who was explaining in great detail how supporting prostitution would be antithetical to the principles underlying their organization. When he paused to breathe, Serena raised her hand and without waiting to be called upon asked in a loud voice, "do the principles your organization holds apply as well to persons of color and foreigners who were attached in the most part to illegal brothel activity? Could you give us a definition of personhood advocated by NADA that supports that race and ethnicity have no bearing on who your principles apply to?" Bissonette shot Serena an angry look and continued with his reply to the original question. Serena leaned back in her seat, satisfied with herself. If she was patient enough, she knew, Bissonette would dig his own grave, and probably nail together his own coffin afterwards. The man next to her spoke up again. "You don't like him very much, do you?" She glanced back at him, annoyed. "Who, Bissonette? He's an idiot. A dangerous idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. And now that the big shots at the head of his association have been arrested, he's in charge." "I don't think he likes you very much either." Serena let out a harsh laugh. "No kidding. I've been on the association's case since last year, and ever since he's been put in charge he's been fighting me and eluding me every step of the way. But believe you me: in this game of endurance I'll outrun him. He'll be crying uncle before the month is out. Trust me." "That should be very interesting to see." "Glad you enjoy it. Now if you don't mind, I need to get back to --" "Serena, I am your dick brother." Serena's eyes automatically shot down to his hand, seeking then seeing the wide Delta Iota Kappa ring on his finger, upon which she felt a cold wave run through her body, from her head down to her toes, as if a sheet of cold air had enveloped her. When the cold had dissipated it was replaced by a pleasant warmth, which seemed to emanate from the man next to her. She wanted more of that warmth. She wanted it to turn into a white hot heat that would consume her from within. She would do anything he wanted to feel that heat she could just sense at the edge of her new consciousness. There was only the man now. The rest of the world had faded away. She knew how to get to the white heat, too. "Hi baby," she said, trying to make her voice sounds sultry, the way she knew boys liked it. "Do you want to have some fun?" She pressed one of her legs against his, and leaned over towards him, her lips wanting to make contact with his skin. She moistened them. The man beside her merely smiled. He nodded towards Bissonette at the front of the room, who was answering another reporter. "Serena, just continue doing your job right now. Fun will be had later." At his words, world around her came back into focus, and she could hear Bissonette's words from the stage once more. He was answering a question about his prior knowledge of the various activities in which his previous superiors had been involved. Serena could not help but think he sounded defensive. "Although," the man with the pale blue eyes said, his voice making her heart almost skip a beat, "there's no reason why we can't enjoy the rest of this press conference -- why don't you undo, say, the top three buttons of your blouse?" Serena gave him a smile. The heat emanating from him was washing over her in waves, and made her long for more. She reached up with her hands and did what he asked, undoing three buttons on her blouse and pulling aside the folds. There was no one sitting near them, although that would not have changed anything. With her blouse now open down to the middle of her breasts and exposing her black bra, she knew she would be giving everyone a large expanse of cleavage to feast over. All she cared about though, all that was important, was that the young man with the pale blue eyes next to her found the view to his liking, and she thrust her chest out slightly to emphasize her assets. When she saw that his eyes were roaming all over the exposed flesh of her breasts, she felt warm all over, and her nipples started tingling. She was getting turned on, she realized. She could feel her pussy juice up at the attention the man was giving her. At the podium, Steve Bissonette seemed to be wrapping up. Serena raised her hand and asked the question she had been holding in reserve. "Mister Bissonette -- one last question, sir. What do you respond to the allegations that your association had been handing out bribes to officers on the municipal police force along with the regional Bureau in exchange for the police to look the other way? Can you deny --" And here Serena had to mark a pause because the man with the pale blue eyes had casually put one of his hands on her knee, and was caressing up her leg, his palm making full contact with her inner thigh, moving up slowly, pushing up her skirt as he went along. It was maddening -- Serena longed to spread her legs wide and press his hands against her pussy before it threatened to burst into flames. She took a deep breath. "-- Can you deny that many of the girls that were found in the house rented under your association's name had never had a missing person's report filed against them?" Bissonette seemed to be taken aback by the question, and her experience told her that he was genuinely puzzled by her question. Odd, she thought. Less odd was his eyes straying down to her chest, undoubtedly noticing that her shirt was baring most of her breasts. He could not see down below though, or he would have seen the man next to her -- having pushed her skirt straight up and exposed the full length of her legs -- running his finger along the edge of her diminutive panties, teasingly sliding his finger under the gusset and touching her soaked pussy. Without realizing it, she was tilting her hips up to provide him better access. Bissonette, meanwhile, concocted a response that Serena's analytic mind interpreted as "I have no idea what you're talking about so I won't comment." And that was fine with her, because the man's finger was driving her crazy. She worked hard to stifle a moan when his finger slid between her pussy lips and slipped into her her up the second knuckle. Bissonette was taking a few more questions, but clearly was getting ready to bring the press conference to a close. Serena, despite the lust that was overwhelming her, was already composing her article in her head, thinking how the new NADA official had evaded all questions that were not superficial and inoffensive. And then the press conference was over and the handful of reporters in the room stood up. The man next to Serena unhurriedly pulled his finger out of her panties and straightened up. Serena was breathless, turned on, yet had enough presence of mind to pull her skirt down before anyone around could see her. "One of the things I love about you, Serena," the man with the pale blue eyes was saying, "is just how incredibly wet you get. Anyone ever told you what a turn on that is?" He was holding up his finger, wet from her juices. He ran it over her lips, pressing just the tip into her mouth, and she obediently twirled her tongue around the tip, tasting herself. She had done that often, of course, tasted herself, with various lovers -- men always loved when she sucked on their cock right after they had fucked her. But that they were in public now, that some of the reporters filing out of the room looked at her questioningly, most likely because her blouse was unbuttoned down to the middle of her breasts, just served to feed the fire now burning inside her and by which she wanted to be consumed. "If it weren't for you needing to be somewhere else right now," continued the man, "I'd have those big lips of yours wrapped around my dick!" Serena looked at him, trying to convey with her eyes and the suction on the tip of his finger just how delighted she would be to suck him off, just how good of a job she would do. The man seemed to pick up on it, groaning before sighing as he pulled his finger away from her mouth. "Unfortunately, that will have to wait till later. We have a little something to take care of right now. Come with me." The man stood up, and Serena followed suit, gathering her things. Outside the conference room, the man turned down a long hallway before going up a flight of stairs, Serena following him silently, her high heels clacking on the bare floors. After trailing down another long hallway he stopped in front of a large wooden door. He unlocked it with a key he pulled out of his wallet, and let Serena in. The room beyond looked like the foyer of a hotel suite, and Serena guessed that this was a salon that university officials used to entertain their VIP guests. Serena wondered how the man with the pale blue eyes had managed to get a key. "We do have some high-level connections with the administration, of course. In particular, a fairly high-level assistant -- a lovely girl, really -- has proved more than willing to supply us with perks of all sorts, from key access to certain rooms to the non-negligible assets of her own body. And speaking of assets... stop and turn around, Serena." The command sent a trail of fire coursing through Serena's body. There was little she wanted to do but obey this man. Obeying this man meant burning. And burning was bliss. He stepped to her and finished unbuttoning her blouse. He unsnapped her bra. They were alone, so she had no longer any drive to remain silent. Anything to get him to fuck her. "So, you like my big tits, don't you?" she asked, trying to make it sound just like the come-on that it really was. The man had freed her breasts, and took a few moments to heft them, caress them, thumb her hard nipples in a way that made her gasp. "Oh yes," he replied, matter of factly, "I like your big tits, I like your wet pussy, too, and I love those cocksucking lips of yours." He ran his finger over said lips. "It's like your body was put together for fucking." Serena shivered with arousal as the fingers trailed down from her mouth the side of her face, and took a step forward to wrap her arms around the man and pull him close for a kiss. "But my body really is made for fucking, and it's damn good at it. Want me to show you how good it can be?" And she pressed against him and kissed him, her tongue thrusting into his mouth, her crotch against his thigh. She wanted him to just truss up her skirt, shove her panties aside and push into her and claim her like the craving need that she was. She lifted her leg, pressing it against his, running it up and down, and she could feel he was reacting, both by his kiss becoming more intense and by his cock hardening against her. She was elated, and so aroused she was certain her juices had drenched through her underwear. The man finally broke the kiss, his imperturbable demeanor showing signs of cracking. "Damn, you are hot! But now is definitely not the time." He adjusted his shirt, nodding towards the center of the room. "I want you to go there, take off that blouse and that bra, and kneel down, and keep quiet. Not a word until I tell you to, got that?" Pleased to do what he wanted her to do, Serena took off her blouse and tossed it on a nearby chair, soon followed by her bra. The exposure hardened her nipples into large red pebbles. She kneeled down after pulling her skirt up over her thighs. Her eyes trained on the man, she saw his eyes roam over her body and take in her large breasts. She thrust her chest out to display them to their best advantage. The man sighed audibly. "You are not making this easy, that's for sure. Keep your eyes down." Serena obeyed, the warmth in her pussy throbbing in response. She heard a knock at the door. The man adjusted his shirt again, and answered. "You are right on time --" "Cut the crap! I'm only here because I'm curious what kind of excuse you're going to offer for the shit you've pulled. I'm done with your fucking frat, you hear me? The way you just tossed my friends under the bus was just... Well, you're going to regret it, lemme tell you --" Steve Bissonette had stormed into the room, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Serena kneeling half-naked on the floor. The man with the pale blue eyes came up alongside him. "Our president is deeply saddened by these events. While your organization's loss has been painful, it did prevent things that are better left hidden to come to the surface, an exposure that would have been much worse for both our organizations in the long run. By way of apology, and as a show of contrition, we are offering you a chance to spend some quality time with one of your close friends." Bissonette's eyes were on her. She could not see them, but could feel them, and she knew they must have been registering shock, and also lust. She was embarrassed, but this was what the man with the pale blue eyes had told her to do. "I... I don't understand," said Bissonette, at last. "She's yours, Bissonette. To do with as you wish for the next --" he checked his watch "-- two hours. A gift from Delta Iota Kappa. I'm only asking you to please leave no permanent marks." He turned to Serena, who was still just staring at the ground. "Serena, for the next two hours, until I get back here, I want you to obey Mister Bissonette like you would obey me, do you understand? He makes you feel like I do, and can tell you to do anything except go against what I am telling you now." Serena felt a flush of heat from Bissonette, equalling that coming from the man with the pale blue eyes. She could not resist the draw, and looked up at the NADA official. He was looking at her with naked lust, and the sight turned the heat washing over her into a burning fire. He liked her! He wanted her! She felt her nipples tighten, and her pussy juice up. She smiled, that smile which always drove men wild, the one that promised that every single dirty thing in their head she could make true. She heard his breath shift, and his eyes dipped back down to her breasts. She cupped them with her hands, caressing them slowly, squeezing them, pushing them together, offering them to him. They were so sensitive, marveled Serena, and felt so good, and she could not suppress a little moan. Through half-closed eyes, she saw Bissonette lick his lips. He liked her chest. She could use that to stoke that fire between her legs. "You like my tits Steve? You can play with them, if you like." She put as much seduction into her voice as she could. She had hefted her breasts up, and her pelvis was gyrating slowly, despite her kneeling position on the ground. She was looking at him square in the eyes. The man with the pale blue eyes cracked a little smile. "Well, now that she is started, I should make myself scarce. Enjoy yourself, Bissonette. I will see you back here in two hours." Bissonette nodded, then grabbed the man's arm. "Wait! What can I... What can I do with her?" "Anything you want, Bissonette. You can play Parchesi with her for all I care. Just do not damage her. My advice? Let her drive. It's what she does best." Bissonette remained motionless for a few minutes after the man with the pale eyes left the suite. He look at her, fixedly, while she kept kneading her breasts. She could practically already feel his cock sliding between them, snuggled tight after she had pushed them together to form a flesh tunnel into which he could thrust. The mental image made her head spin. She needed to get fucked, and soon. He finally took a step towards her, and she moaned in anticipation. She looked up at him, her pelvis still gyrating, as if she was fucking some invisible man spread out underneath her. "Why are you doing this? Did they put you up to this, to trick me?" He looked around, suspicious, as if he was trying to spot hidden cameras. "Come on, Steve, it's me. Do you really think I'd be right here, on my knees, playing with my big tits, craving to feel your cock inside me, just to trap you? It'd be so much worse for me than for you, don't you think? Imagine the headlines: Serena Banks, slutting herself out for the head of NADA. You'd come out as a stud -- I'd come out as the black girl who can't keep her legs together for the big strong white man." She could see it too, she on her back with her legs spread wide, perhaps holding on to them at the knee, Bissonette lying down on top of her, thrusting into her hard. Her clit throbbed. She moaned, and squeezed her breasts harder. "No," she continued when she had recovered. "I'm here to please you, serve you, obey you. And you're making me hot right now -- the way you look at me, the things that I can see you want to do to me. Come on, Steve, I'm all yours. Do anything you want to me -- anything." She longed to run a finger through her slit, smearing her juices around. She could feel her G-string soaked through and through. Bissonette seemed to come to a decision, and his face hardened for a second. "Well, I gotta say I love to see you like this, on your knees. Can't help but feel like it's your proper place. You've been a pain in the ass for me and my friends for a while now, and maybe it's time you got a bit of what you gave." Serena's eyes lit up, and she stood straighter, arching out her rear. "Oh? You want to fuck my ass? Go right ahead, it's all yours. And it's so tight, too -- you're gonna love it!" Her hands never stopped squeezing her breasts. She wanted this man something fierce. Bissonette shook his head, ran his hand down the side of her face. When his fingers were close to her lips Serena turned her head and slipped them in to her mouth, sucking hard, her eyes closing, her throat making little sounds. Bissonette let her suck on his fingers for a while. He was smiling now, a little smile that promised nothing good. "I guess Helberg was right -- you like to drive. Why does that not surprise me? And that just won't do. You see, I like my bitches, especially my nigger bitches, to do just what they're told." He pushed his fingers deep into Serena's mouth and she gagged loudly. He shoved his fingers in and out of her mouth, pressing her head down with his other hand. Serena submitted happily to this treatment, doing her best to make her tongue fly over the invading fingers. At some abstract level, she realized that she should have been bothered by his treatment of her, by his casually racist remarks -- what do you expect from NADA anyways? -- but that was where it remained, an abstract concern. Much more immediate was the knowledge that Bissonette was turned on, as witnessed by the tent of his pants, and seeing him turned on turned her on in turn, and she redoubled her efforts to suck on his thrusting fingers, drooling abundantly, keeping her eyes trained on his. When he pulled his fingers out, she put on her best come-hither smile. "You want me to be your nigger bitch, Steve? I'll be the best damn nigger bitch you've ever had -- after I'm done with you, those white cunts you like to fuck will -- Oh!" She had hoped to inflame him further by catering to his bigoted side, and it must have worked too well, because his face had turned red and he slapped her breast, hard, sending both globes wobbling. "First off, it's Mister Bissonette to you, bitch. Teach you some respect for your betters. And second off, damn right you're gonna be my nigger bitch. You're going to pay me back for you being an uppity lying bitch, thinks she's so much better than everyone else!" He was shouting now, and he slapped her breasts again. "You belong on your knees choking on a real man's cock!" He had unzipped his pants and his cock was standing at attention, his glans a dark angry red. She looked at it, hungry, then looked up at his face. She had always been good at reading people, and here she had a pretty good idea of what would egg Bissonette on. What she wanted was for him to fuck her, as hard as he could, and she knew exactly how to get it. She put on her best innocent smile. "Of course, Mister... Bissonette..." and she dove onto his cock, taking most of it in her mouth in one stroke, the head hitting the back of her throat. Bissonette gasped, his knees almost giving out from under him. She kept his cock in her mouth for several seconds, running her tongue back and forth underneath the hard flesh. She pulled him out and sucked him again, and again, eventually straightening her back and lining her head up and in one swift stroke taking him down her throat, pressing her breasts against his legs and pulling on his ass with her hands. She milked him with her throat, and he grunted hard. "Fuck -- you bitch -- you cocksucking bitch -- feels good -- feels so fucking good! -- Oh fuck!" When her lungs complained she pulled out, drool leaking out of her mouth and onto her chest, and she rubbed it in while caressing her breasts. She took a deep breath. She looked up at him. "Your cock feels so good in this nigger slut's throat, Mister Bissonette. And it's so hard..." She stroked it lightly with her hand. "You must have thought about fucking my mouth often, haven't you? Whenever I interviewed you, or asked you questions, did you, Mister Bissonette, ever think I'd be on my knees like this, begging you to shove your cock in my nigger mouth? That I'd be wet thinking of your cock ravishing me? That you'd get to feel your cock between these big fat nigger tits?" And she raised herself up to cradle the hard shaft between her breasts, squeezing them together and moving her body up and down, rhythmically pressing on the cock that was sliding on her chest. She spat down to add some lubrication, not needing to look up to know that Bissonette was going crazy. Every boy she had ever let fuck her breasts had gone gaga during the act, always seeming to appreciate seeing their cock poke out of her cleavage. This time was no different. And she fully expected Bissonette to push her away, and possibly slap her breasts again, before he would come. Her bet was that he would fuck her, hard, most likely from behind, while insulting her. Which was fine with her, if it meant he would stick his cock inside her and made her come, over and over again. She ground her thighs together at the thought. And, predictably, after enjoying her ministrations for a few minutes, during which Serena alternated between rubbing her breasts against Bissonette's cock and taking it deep in her throat, he pushed her down to the ground. "Fuckin' bitch!" he growled, grabbing his cock. "If you think making me come with your mouth's gonna save you ass, you're wrong. I told you, I like my bitches to do what I tell them to do, so you gonna do just that, you little whore, you got that?" Serena smiled. "Of course, Mister Bissonette. Anything you say, Mister Bissonette --" She pulled her skirt up over her thighs, up to her waist, and spread her long legs. Bissonette's eyes went wide, and he stared transfixed at the little G string she had on and that was practically transparent from her juices. "So what are you going to do, Mister Bissonette? Do you want to fuck me, fuck your little nigger slut?" She was getting into it now -- getting him worked up was fun, and she ate up the look of frenzied lust in his eyes. She reached down and pulled G string aside, and the air hitting her pulsating slit almost made her gasp. "Wanna shove your big white cock in my tight black cunt, Mister Bissonette? Hear me scream as you push it in? Ever had black meat, Mister Bissonette? It's like sinking your cock into liquid fire it's so hot in there. I'll ruin you for any white cunt out there." She ran a finger along her slit, sending sparks up her back and making her nipples tingle. If he did not take her soon, she thought, damned be the young man with the pale blue eyes and his instructions. I'm going to jump him and rape him. She slipped a finger inside her wet pussy and started finger-fucking herself in front of Bissonette. What would really push Bissonette over and make him lose his mind? She smiled. It was obvious. It was all over the rhetoric of his ground. "Your cock would feel so much better than my finger, Mister Bissonette. And I'm such a bad little nigger, fingering myself like this. Wanna show me how your ancestors would subdue their nigger slaves, Mister Bissonette? Wanna teach me who's my master, who's my owner, Mister Bissonette? Wanna punish me with your big white cock, master -- wanna punish me for being a bad nigger slut?" Bissonette's eyes were mesmerized by her finger noisily pushing in and out of her pussy, and by her words. He needed only one final little push, she thought, and then he'd be down there satisfying her, and his lust would be her happiness. But Bissonette acted on his own without any further prompting. His voice was low and shaking, as if he was exerting a great effort of control. "Get on your hands and knees, you bitch, and show me that fucking ass of yours." Serena smiled. She had him. Quickly, she flipped onto her hands and knees, her skirt still bunched around her waist, and raised her ass up, swaying it enticingly. She looked at Bissonette over her shoulder. "You're gonna punish me for being a bad nigger slave by fucking my ass master? But my little hole is too tight -- you'll never fit. You'll rip me apart. Please, master. I'll be a good nigger slave from now on, don't fuck my ass. Please! Don't fuck my ass!" Serena worried for a second whether she had gone too far, but Bissonette just kneeled behind her and slapped her ass cheek hard. "Shut up, bitch... you'll take it where I say and when I say, you got that?" The slap on her ass had sent ripples of pleasure coursing through Serena's body, like waves on a lake. She looked at him over her shoulder again. "Of course master. My little nigger slave body is all yours to fuck as you wish -- Oh! -- Mmm... Yes..." Bissonette was running his cock along her dripping slit, eliciting a moan that she could not control. Her moan shifted to a gasp, and a prolonged groan when he pushed his cock into her pussy in one hard thrust. It went in like hot knife into butter, so aroused she was. Finally, she thought, and she squeezed the hard cock inside her with those muscles that had always driven her lovers crazy. Bissonette was no exception, and he grasped her thighs to help push himself deeper into her spasming snatch, stupefied by the sensation. "Fuck you bitch," he kept repeating over and over again like a mantra as he fucked her to her heart's content. It did not take long before she felt a climax coming, rapidly, sneakily, and on a particularly hard thrust on his part she came, her whole body spasming as if electric current was running through it, a guttural moan the only sound she was able to make, even thought as she really wanted to do was scream out for him to fuck her harder. That was like a cue for Bissonette, who pulled his cock out of her pussy with a wet slurping sound and rubbed the head on her puckered ass hole. "This is for all the shit you've given me, you fucking bitch," he groaned before pushing into her bottom. His cock was well lubed from its sojourn in her pussy, and her copious leaking juices earlier had pooled in her hole and his cock slid in fairly easily into her ass. He was smaller than many of the lovers she had had up there, and she knew enough to relax herself to ease the penetration so that it was not painful, and she was so turned on still that she probably would not have cared even if it had been. She loved it, and the slow penetration quickly brought her close to another climax. Bissonette groaned, his hands on her ass, reveling in the sensation. "Fuck," he growled, "you're so fuckin' tight, bitch -- Oh!..." Serena squeezed his cock from the inside, then remembered her role. She wanted to bring him off, knowing in her bones that when he came inside her she would explode like never before. "Please, master, don't fuck my little nigger ass too hard -- you're so big! I've never had anything so big up my ass before." His cock fully inside her, he slapped her ass again. "Shut up, you bitch -- you'll take it as hard as I want to give it to you, you whore!" And he pulled out slowly and thrust back into her, harder this time, and Serena gasped in pleasure. "Oh! Fuck! Yes, I'm your whore, your little ass whore! Fuck your little ass whore -- Fuck! -- Fuck! -- Fuck! -- Yes!" Bissonette was ramming into her hard, just like she wanted, yearned, craved. She had a series of small orgasms that were clearly leading up to the big one, and she sneaked a hand down to her pussy and teased and pinched her clit to add to the overwhelming sensations. Bissonette was panting while he stabbed her ass, muttering to himself, occasionally slapping a cheek before thrusting in again. And when he started jerking and announcing that he was about to explode, Serena thrust three fingers into her pussy, fucking herself while his cock fucked her ass, and between that and Bissonette pushing into her deep and releasing a volley of semen with a loud groan, she came, her body clenching hard, immobile for several seconds before letting go and deflating like a punctured balloon. Her vision dimmed as waves of pleasure bounced up and down her body. She barely felt Bissonette collapse over her, moaning in an exhausted voice how much of a whore she was. An hour and a half later, Bissonette was lying down on one of the couches, drained, ready to pass out, while Serena was licking his cock clean, purring like a kitten. Her chest was covered with semen, which was also leaking abundantly from between her legs. She was waiting for the man with the pale blue eyes to return, knowing by the heat in her pussy that if she could get him to fuck her she would feel even better than Bissonette had made her feel. She wondered idly what she could do to make him take her, as she tried to coax another offering from the shriveling cock in her hand.

Author: Bulgroz the Third Title: The Adjusters #33 - A Wedding and an Assignment Keywords: MF, mc Posted: October 2, 2012 Edited: October 2, 2012 The Adjusters #33 A Wedding and an Assignment (Huntington, West Virginia. Ten months ago.) He follows the girl through the hallways of City Hall, trying hard to make it seem like he is not following her. Thankfully, there are enough people mulling about, looking busy, worried, overwhelmed, that it is as easily done as said. He is curious where she is going. Her marriage ceremony--a civil wedding City Hall, not uncommon, but decidedly not the norm in the area--is set to start in less than a half hour. A small wedding, by the way those things are measured, but the reception to follow would be larger, with a luxurious reception hall reserved at a hotel down the street. A good hundred guests expected, most of them young--friends of the couple. The girl turns a corner in the hallway after a quick look around, and he tries to camouflage himself among the people milling about. He is dressed in his dark suit, and he can pass off as a civil servant fairly easily, at least if he hides his face a little bit. He approaches the corner, and risks a look. The hallway beyond is empty. He can hear the sound of her high heels on the floor further down, past another corner. He hurries as silently as possible to that corner, and peeks around. There she is, nearing a door in that deserted hallway. He takes a moment to admire her; her wedding dress is short and tight--too short and too right, uncharitable souls might say, but it does a perfect job emphasizing the girl's astonishing legs, long and toned and sheathed in sheer white silk stockings. Her face is half-covered with a thin veil, tied to a small hat sitting atop her long blonde hair. He has no time to contemplate his next step, however, as the bride quickly turns towards a man who is approaching from the other direction. The man is tall, tanned, with a South-American vibe. The bride does not say a word when she sees him, but simply welcomes him in her arms, and he kisses her hard, pulling her against him. If the way they kiss does not make it clear what is going on, the way she lifts her leg and rubs it against his and lets him run his hand underneath her thigh does. Stumbling, still kissing, they open the door and almost tumble their way inside. He watches the couple disappear into the room, dumbfounded for a moment. The South-American man with the bride was not the groom--who is a short rather tubby young man, with all the self-confidence of a beaten puppy. As far as he can tell, the only thing that the groom has going for him is a wealthy family and a healthy trust fund. Not that love has never flourished in such arid soil, but the scene he has just witnessed suggests that perhaps the bride is not altogether head-over-heels for her new groom. Which leaves him wondering what to do next. He has been looking forward to this, to this new Vessel for his Ministry, one worthy of his Seed, but the girl is cavorting before her own wedding, blatantly cheating on her husband-to-be. It brings her worth into question, and he does not need such questioning at this point. He is aroused, he is primed, his Seed is looking for release and to spread itself out into the world and cry out for reverence and adoration. He remains staring at the vaguely yellowing wall before him for a long time, unable to contemplate an alternate plan. He is feeling depressed and restless at the same time, a feeling he does not care for. The anticlimax of the events are hitting him hard, and he is still revved up from his imagining the coupling that has been aborted. The door where the couple has disappeared opens again, jerking him out of his reverie. He steals a glance around the corner to see the tall South American, a broad satisfied smile on his face, adjust his suit and walk away. The door is closed. He does not take a moment to think, and when he figures the South-American man is far enough, he tiptoes to the door and opens it as quietly as possible. It is not locked. He sneaks in, and locks the door behind him. "Did you forget something again, Fernando?" The voice is vaguely mocking, and he braces himself for a difficult few seconds before he can overpower her. This is always the most dangerous part of the operation. He really has to find a better way to approach his Vessels. He turns around and sees that the girl is adjusting her stockings up her long legs. Her back is to him, and she is concentrating on snapping the garter. The sight is mesmerizing--she has a foot up on a chair--and he almost ruins his plans by his staring. "Fernando? What--" She starts to look up, and he moves as swiftly as he can. He bridges the space in the small disaffected office--empty but for an old-fashioned desk and a chair and a pile of boxes gathering dust alongside one wall--and puts his hand on the girl's shoulder. The usual sensation runs up his arm, mysterious and welcome at the same time. The girl's face grows blank for a few seconds, before regaining some expression. He looks at her--Corrina, that is her name. Corrina Wolf, soon to be Corrina Larsen. She is looking right back at him with an expression that matches her maiden name. Her eyes dart down from his face down to his chest and further down to his groin before heading back up. There is no indication of what she thinks of him, and despite the hold he knows he has on her, he shivers. This woman is a predator, he knows, a woman who knows how to dominate, who knows what she wants and knows how to get it. Thankfully, he has some help in that department himself. "Corrina, I am your Lord, your Savior. I am the Light that illuminates your life and reveals the Truth. You are my Servant. You are my Vessel. She looks him right in the eyes, and he can swear he sees her desire swell tenfold. "I am, my Lord. I am your servant. Your vessel." "Who was that, before?" he asks her. "Fernando, my Lord." He has figured that much already. "No, I mean. Who is he? Have you been seeing him long?" "I met him a week ago, my Lord. An enjoyable man. Great ass. And a wonderful lover with a nice tool." His Vessels, once they acknowledge his Divinity, are often without shame, but it is a lack of shame that talks of their openness to him, of their faith in him. Corrina's shamelessness, in contrast, he feels is more of a shout of pride, a show of domination, a claim of independence. "Corrina. Strip." She will do as a Vessel, after a suitable behavioral correction, but he will treat her with the respect she deserves, which was none. Corrina reaches behind her, unhooks her dress, and shuffles out of it in a move that make her breasts bounce in the shelf bra before it sends the dress to pool down at her feet. She has a perfect body, hard and tight, like her character. A tattoo of a snake can be seen sneaking out of her panties and up her left side. He is already hard, of course, but seeing her stripped to her underwear with a pair of thigh-high white stockings and heels--and her bridal veil--increases his arousal. Especially since she naturally strikes a pose that emphasizes her assets, a pair of large breasts that look rather artificial. "Take off your bra. Did he fuck you?" He needs her to say it. "Oh yes, my Lord--just a quickie because I'm getting married now." She reaches behind her again to unclasp her bra, which she pulls off in a smooth motion that imparts just the right wiggle to her breasts. "But it should hold me over until he can fuck me properly." She stands before him, large spectacular breasts naked for his perusal. Artificial indeed, but also hypnotic. He finds himself glad he is a God and thus able to subjugate her, because a small part of him worries that she would have easily wrapped him around her finger otherwise. He makes to reach with a hand and touch the fleshy globes before him, and is surprised to find himself hesitating. Which makes him almost angry, and he grabs a breast with a firm hand and presses and squeezes and generally manhandles the flesh without regard to her comfort. How dare she challenge him? Corrina moans under his attention, and she pushes her chest forward exaggeratedly. "I'm sure Fernando likes these big boobs of yours," he says. "Did he come inside of you?" That worries him, a lot--it would ruin his plans for the day. "No," she says, suppressing another moan as his fingers find her large nipple and twist it. "He came in my mouth. He always does. He likes to come in my mouth. Says it's just proper for a slut like me." Fernando's not wrong, he thinks. But a Vessel is a Vessel is a Vessel. And he is already committed. "Good," he says. "On this, your wedding day, you were chosen to be a Vessel for my Seed, and it would not do to mix that Seed with the seed of a lowly minion." There will be no kissing. Not that he has any particular desire to. She does not arouse feelings of love and respect from him, feelings that might lead him to treat her like a beloved Concubine, but instead he feels the need to tame her, to teach her a lesson. He pulls up the chair in the middle of the room, and sits on it, after removing his pants. His erect cock is sticking straight out, as was proper of a God. The sight always makes him swell with pride. "Take those off," he tells Corrina, gesturing to her white almost translucent panties. There is little time for niceties, and he is in any event not in any mood for them. "Then come sit on your God's lap and swallow his Sword." She flashes a grin--she was eager for it, an eagerness that is much more than just the result of his power over her--Fernando was more correct than he probably would have cared to admit. She slips the panties down her legs with practiced ease, and reveals a perfectly shaved pussy, its lips still red from the pounding she has just been subject to. Without a word, she runs a hand over those same lips, and shivers. She is leading him on, he knows, and she is doing a phenomenal job of it. With her stockings, heels, and her veil, with her hand between her legs and large inflated breasts bouncing on her chest, she looks like an ad for a cheap fetish store. Except for the fact that she is too good looking to feature in such an ad. "Come receive tribute from your Lord," he tells her, torn between disgust and desire. "With pleasure, my Lord." She walks towards him slowly, one foot in front of the other, swaying her ass, swinging her breasts, inviting, demure, hungry. As she is about to straddle him, he raises his hand. "Stop. Turn around. You have displeased your Lord by having a lover defile your face, and you will not get your mouth near me. You will mount me with your back turned, in a proper show of contrition." If Corrina is displeased, she does not show it. She turns around, and wiggles her toned posterior right in front of his face, drawing his attention to the pussy lips peeking between her thighs, clearly wet with her juices. And then she sits on his lap, grasping his cock in her hand to guide it inside her. She does not spend any time adjusting to his size, merely sinks and impales herself upon him, letting out a long moan as she takes him all inside her tight pussy. He gasps. She is tight, tighter than he expected. Here she is, sitting on his lap, impaled on his shaft, squeezing it hard from inside, milking it, shifting her hips back and forth and left to right, pressed down into him, a moan growling in her throat as she seems to please herself with his shaft. For two full minutes she does not pull herself off from his lap, content to hold him inside her and grind away in a circular motion, a sublime lap dance if not for the cock skewering her. When he finally moves and puts his hands on her hips, she groans louder and lifts herself up from his cock before slamming down onto it. "Fuck yes!" she moans, before doing it again. And again. He is holding on for the ride, surprised by her ardor. His Vessels love the feel of him inside them, and they are enthusiastic when he orders them to be, but this one, she is consumed by a hunger that beffudles him. She takes his hands in hers and lifts them to her breasts, pressing them on the large globes of flesh. "Squeeze my big tits! Squeeze them! Fuck yes! Yes! Fuck me, my Lord! Fuck me! FUCK--" As he kneads her breasts with his fingers, marveling at the feel of the silicon-enhanced flesh, Corrina's movements get jerkier, her moans and groans louder, and she slams herself down more and more violently on his lap, only to finally press down and grind her ass down with his shaft as deep within her as it will go--and like that, she comes, freezing up and clenching, a scream caught mid-throat. The way her pussy seizes up almost makes him spill his Seed right then and there. She collapses onto him, her back to his chest, breathing hard, his cock still inside her. With a moan, she takes one of his hands and brings it to her face, slipping his thumb into her mouth and sucking on it like she might a cock presented to her face by a lover. She sucks on it lovingly, with little sounds of appreciation, and soon her hips start bucking lightly in time with her ministrations. She is getting going again--he has to admit, her enthusiasm for the sexual act is starting to be contagious--he has to fight back a smile. But he is running out of time. He has to move on to his duties. It will not take too long. He frees his hand--despite Corrina's whimper of protestation--and puts both of them back on her hips and guides her while he starts to thrust into her to her renewed delight. "Oh! Yes! Fuck me, my Lord!" she groans, reaching back with her hand over her head to caress his face. It was time. "Corrina," he says, thrusting his hips upwards to meet her descending thrusts, "I will now baptize you into your new faith. You will accept my Seed deep into your womb, and carry it to term so that you can bring forth a new generation of worshippers for your Lord. Tell me, do you want my Seed?" "Fuck! I want your cum, my Lord! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!" It is a good thing she accepts him so readily, because he would not have been able to resist much longer. She milks him thoroughly, her pussy a warm sheath like a blow job from angels. He settles back into his chair, and lets her do much of the work, enjoying the feeling of having his Divine Seed coaxed out of him by a professional pussy. He feels the rush of orgasm arrive slowly, building up inexorably, until his balls are ready to explode and he resists the urge to thrust and rides the wave until it finally breaks and he stiffens as he is engulfed and then he comes, hard, spurting jets after jets of cum into Corrina's womb, to the vocal delight of the girl who presses down harder on his lap with a strident "Oh yes! Come inside me! Deep inside me!" as she succumbs to her own orgasm. She lies back against him, into his his chest, her hair in his face, breathing hard. He recovers slowly. They are under a time constraint--when is he not these days?--and he has something else to do. "Corrina," he slurs, trying to remain present. "You are now a vessel of your Lord." "Yes I am," she replies, a twitch in her pussy suggesting that she may be reawakened at the slightest touch. This girl is insatiable, he thinks. "You and your soon-to-be husband are blessed. He shall be rewarded for offering his bride as a Vessel. Now, normally," he cannot help the meta-discourse, "your Lord would grant your soon-to-be-husband his innermost fantasy, as an acknowledgment for his generosity and sacrifice..." He lets the sentence hang. This time, he has something different in mind. He will give her husband-to-be the gift that he does not even know he wants. "A question for you first, Corrina. Do you love him?" "Who, my Lord?" "The man you are about to marry. After all, you are giving yourself away to other men..." Again, he lets the sentence hang. "In a way, my Lord." She manages to sound thoughtful, despite her position, despite her short breath, despite the cock still embedded inside her. "He is kind, he is uncomplicated, and he is simply crazy about me. He will make an excellent husband, and eventually a wonderful father." "So why are you giving yourself away to other men minutes before your own wedding?" He does not count himself, of course, because he is a God. But the latino man from earlier was far from divine. "Because he is not a skilled or imaginative lover, my Lord." One advantage with turning a woman into a Vessel, he thinks, is that she has no misgivings about speaking the truth, whatever it may be. It simplifies conversation enormously. "And I have needs, strong needs. I satisfy them when I can, with who I can. He knows, and he doesn't like it, but he loves me too much to let me go." He nods. Not necessarily as bad as he feared, but something he can work with. "Listen to me well, Corrina." He pulls her close against him, pressing his hands into her large breasts, squeezing. "You will love your soon-to-be husband. You will love him more than you've ever loved anything or anyone. All this sexual energy you have, all this desire, you will direct it all towards him. He will be the one who turns you on, he will be the one who makes you wet, he will be the one to fuel your fantasies. Do you understand?" He squeezes her breasts again. Corrina moans against him, rubbing her ass on his lap, whether to try to arouse him or because she is itching to continue fucking is not clear. "I understand, my Lord. I will be my husband's little slut." He grins. "Smart girl. Exactly. You will be a slut, but you will be your husband's little slut. He will be the alpha and the omega of your sexual fantasies, as is proper. He will be the one to say when you fuck, how you fuck, and even who you fuck. Whatever he says, it will arouse you. And you will do your best to keep him wanting you. In fact, making him want you will make you wet." He pauses, twisting her nipples, eliciting a deep groan. "What is your husband-to-be's name?" "Reginald, my Lord." "You will get a tattoo, as a surprise gift for your nuptials. You can put it wherever you want, but it has to be visible when you disrobe. It will say, 'Reginald's Slut.' Whenever you see it, you will be reminded and reinforced in your position as a slut to your husband. And it will turn you on." Corrina moans even louder and pulls one of his hands down from her breasts to her crotch and presses his finger against her clitoris, shivering as she starts rubbing herself with his finger. "I... I understand, my Lord," she says with a shaky voice. "Good. You shall not remember meeting me today--your lover what's-his-name left you after your dalliance, your last dalliance before your married life in which you will pledge yourself fully to your husband, and you spent time preparing yourself for that new life. You shall never speak of any of this to anyone, ever." "I understand, my Lord." He is still hard, as expected. Which is good, because he wants some of what she gave to that man earlier. "Get down on your knees, Corrina, and worship this Divine Rod. Satisfy me with your mouth." Corrina wastes no time to pull herself from his lap, and turns around to face him, her sumptuous body revealed in its full glory. He wonders where she will choose to get the tattoo. "With pleasure--" she says, before bending down at the waist and slurping the head of his cock into her wet mouth, letting her big breasts dangle between his legs. Her lips feel amazing. She lets the cock go and kneels down at his feet, looking up at him. "--My Lord." And then she engulfs him into the tight confines of her mouth, taking most of his cock in, sucking and licking and slurping with all the enthusiasm of a dedicated Worshipper. * * * (Charleston, West Virginia. Ten months ago.) Elizabeth Bowden answered the door with something akin to trepidation. Jeez, calm down, she scolded herself. You're not in high school anymore. She shook her head, laughing to herself. "Too early?" Greg was there, holding a large bouquet of roses. "Nope, just perfect." He looked adorable with his bouquet. She let him in and took the flowers from him, making a show of appreciating their fragrance--they did smell wonderful--and then stepping up to him to kiss him. Whether he was expecting a chaste kiss or not was rendered moot by her forcefully pressing her lips onto his and driving her tongue into his mouth. Before he could recover, Elizabeth was sauntering away from him, practically giggling. She was so horny she was ready to explode. She headed to the kitchen, put the flowers in a vase, and grabbed the popcorn she had just prepared and a few sodas. "Living room," she said to her fiance who was loitering near the entrance. He was staring at the custom-built wheelchair lift that ran alongside the staircase leading up to the higher floor of the house, a pensive look on his face. "My dad's not here," she said, guessing his thoughts. "He's gone for a few days on a field trip, with some of his vet buddies." Greg must have caught the slight emphasis she had put on gone and days, because he glanced at her and a little smile twitched on the corner of his mouth. "Living room," she repeated, grinning. They sat on the couch. "So what did you have in mind for tonight?" Greg asked. "I don't know. I'm sort of in the mood for a movie. But I feel like staying in--" "Clearly," Greg replied, looking meaningfully at the large bowl of popcorn. She swatted him on the shoulder. "Jerk," she said with a smile. "Anyways. I thought we'd order a movie, cuddle up a bit, talk, drink some. And then..." Almost uncharacteristically, she hesitated. "Well... I was hoping that you could stay the night?" Greg's smile answered her before the conversation caught up with him. "Really?" "If you don't mind, that is..." "I'd love it." She breathed the sigh of relief she had not even noticed that she had held. Now that's acting like a high schooler, she chided herself. He's my fiance, for God's sake! But between her work and taking care of her disabled father, she had precious few opportunities to spend the night outside of her own home. And with her father's rather old-fashioned ideas about morality and propriety, there had been no chance of Greg spending the night here at home, fiance or no fiance. He's so patient, she told herself, looking at her husband-to-be. "What?" he asked. "Just thinking how lucky I am," she replied, leaning over to kiss him. He was ready for it this time, and sank into the kiss with a passion rivaling her own. Before the kiss was over she was pressing her body against his, and subtly rubbing her chest against his, loving the feeling it conveyed to her nipples, naked underneath the thin tee shirt she was wearing. "Wow," said Greg, when he could catch his breath. "Yeah," said Elizabeth, adjusting her shirt. She reached for the remote control. "So what do you feel like watching?" Greg shook his head, as if to restore blood circulation. "Huh, I don't know. Anything really. Something light, maybe? Mindless action flick? Comedy? Something fun." "Mmm... something light. Something fun." She pressed a few buttons, bringing up the On Demand menu, and thumbed through a few of the selections. She glanced sideways at Greg, who was busy running his hand on her bare leg, left uncovered by the shorts she wore. His hand felt nice, very nice. She grinned as she thumbed down the menus and selected what she had toyed with watching in the back of her mind. Greg looked up when the screen resized and turned black before the movie began. "So what did we choose?" "Something light. Something fun." She cuddled up against him, her legs tucked underneath her her, one arm wrapped behind him, the other resting on his stomach. Greg looked at her strangely when he saw the Digital Playground logo flash during the opening credits. "Huh, Lizzie?" "Sshhh..." "Lizzie, do you know what you chose?" "Told you. Something light. Something fun. Maybe something dirty." She turned her head towards him, and grinned wickedly. She kissed him, another fierce kiss that sent tingles down to her crotch. She was sopping wet. This was going to be a great night. They settled to watch the movie and Elizabeth, cuddled up in Greg's arms, enjoyed the slight discomfort she could feel emanating from her fiance. Always keep them a little bit off balance sweetie, always said her friend Shelley. When the first sex scene started on the screen, she felt Greg stiffen against her, and she pressed into him even more. "You okay?" she whispered in his ear, enjoying the effect her breath had on him. "Huh... yeah... it's just..." "Don't tell me it's your first porno," she teased him. She pulled her right leg over his thigh, and felt his erection against her flesh. "No, of course not--I mean..." "It's okay," she reassured him. "You're a man, I understand. Heck, I like them too, once in a while. They're a great way to, you know, get in the mood?" When he turned to look at her, surprised, she grinned. She took his hand and pushed it under her shirt, up to her naked breast, which erupted in goosebumps at the touch. "We're going to be husband and wife soon--I think we should start to share, no? And besides, this may be... educational. You can show me exactly what you expect me to do to you when we're married...." He stared at her a long moment, his hand squeezing her breast softly, while on the screen a fake blonde with a fake chest and a tendency to scream "Fuck me harder you fuckin' bastard!" at the top of her lungs was being taken roughly from behind. "Who's lucky now?" he asked. Elizabeth grinned. "Oh, you haven't gotten lucky yet." By the time the second sex scene of the movie was underway, she was rubbing Greg's hard-on through his pants, while he was pawing her breasts and kept trying to divert her attention from the movie. "Lizzie, you're driving me crazy!" "Good! Exactly the effect I was hoping for." By the time the fake blonde in the second scene received her sperm shower from her beau, Elizabeth had Greg's cock out of his pants and was stroking him slowly. "Tonight," she whispered as she turned to him, "this bad boy is all mine." "No doubt about it," replied Greg, moaning and reaching down to kiss her. For a moment, a flash of guilt stabbed through Elizabeth, and she did her best to push it away as her tongue wrestled with Greg's. "What?" asked Greg. "Nothing..." "I thought you said we were supposed to share. That was a thought you had, and not a nice one." "I..." She took a deep breath, looking Greg in the eyes. His cock was still hard in her hand. "I just hope you don't have... you know... too much hope for tonight." He kissed her softly on the lips. "You mean, not to expect to make love to you tonight?" She drowned in the kiss for a few seconds longer before nodding her head. "Lizzie, you told me that you wanted to remain a virgin until we were married, and I told you before, that's fine with me. I mean," and his smile reached his eyes and made even his pockmarked face beautiful, "I'd love to be inside you, of course--but if it makes you happy to wait, then I'm happy to wait." "It's not..." Another deep breath. "It's not that it makes me happy to wait. It's just..." She let go of his cock--anything else would have been wrong at that point. "I haven't told you why--" "And you don't need to. That's what you want, and that's good enough for me." "But not for me. I need you to know why... why I'm fighting even my own urges, because, frankly, I'd fuck you right here and now if not..." She sought the comfort of his arms. "It's stupid, really. But I promised my mum, several years ago, just before she died, that I'd wait. She told me she wanted my wedding night to be magical, and not to cheapen it by giving myself away before that. And then... and then she died, and all I have left is that promise..." She willed herself not to cry. Greg's hand was in her hair, caressing it softly. On the screen, two girls were locked in a steamy sixty-nine, sloppily licking each other while a man watched them and stroked his impressive cock. "It's okay," said Greg in a soft voice. "I understand. And don't worry about me--I'm not going anywhere. And if the pressure gets too much, well, I've got my own ways to keep me distracted. And we can still do other stuff, right?" Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes wet, and he leaned down to kiss her, a gentle kiss that before too long she was returning with a passion that channeled the hurt she was trying to swallow back. She loved this man so much, and he understood her and was willing to give her time and space, and that love seemed to overflow her and she kissed him even harder and she pushed herself onto his lap and pressed her crotch against his cock and rubbed back and forth. Greg's hands were now both underneath her shirt and were kneading her breasts hard, and she moaned in his mouth as her rubbing intensified. She was so aroused, on edge ever since she thought about the coming night, that she was hardly surprised when a shift in her hips lined up Greg's cock with her clitoris and even through her panties and her shorts the pressure was enough to trigger an orgasm that had her thrashing on Greg's lap. When she had recovered, she stood up between his legs, and pointed down. "Take off your pants." As he shuffled on the couch to take them off, she pulled off her shirt, letting her breasts swing freely, her nipples reacting to the air and instantly turning into hard knobs. She shimmied off her shorts down her long legs, and stood before Greg clad only in a pair of lacy panties whose crotch bore a large wet spot witnessing how turned on she was. She basked in the look of pure lust Greg gave her when her straightened up, his pants tossed away, his cock standing straight and proud and ready to inflict damage, his eyes shifting from her breasts to her legs up to her pussy which gushed further as his gaze threatened to tear a hole through the flimsy fabric covering it. He was hungry for her, which was exactly how she wanted him to be. She leaned down, bending at the waist, her hand on his thighs, and kissed him. Behind her, forgotten, a brunette was servicing two men at the same time amidst loud slapping sounds of flesh against flesh. "You're amazing," said Greg, when Elizabeth freed his lips. "And you haven't seen anything yet." She leaned further down, still keeping her legs straight, and took the head of his cock in her mouth and sucked hard, twirling her tongue all over the hard flesh. She straightened back up as Greg groaned. "Tell me, how do you feel about women that kneel between men's legs and give them sloppy head?" Greg swallowed, reaching down to grasp one of her breasts hanging right before his eyes. "They're naughty," he said. "And how do you feel about naughty women?" Her lips hovered a hair's breadth away form his. "I like them. I really like them." "Good," she replied, and sank to her knees and in one smooth motion took his cock into her mouth again--and this time not only the tip but the whole thing went in--and she let the hard shaft slide down her throat until her lips were pressed against his balls. Greg made a sound that might have been a mix of a gasp and a swear word, and she let his cock slip out of her mouth. "I plan on showing you exactly how I've managed to remain a virgin while still keeping my boyfriends satisfied and coming back for more all these years." And she sank down on his cock, taking him to the hilt once more, this time sucking hard as she pulled back, and settled on a slow but steady rhythm of taking him down her throat and sucking loudly as he pulled back, over and over again, to the soundtrack of fucking from behind her. Glancing up, she was glad to see that Greg's attention was squarely on her and not on the television. "Lizzie," he moaned, running his hand on the side of her face, "I'm not going to last very long if you keep that up." The throbbing in his cock confirmed his fears. "Well then," she said, playing with a thread of saliva that connected the tip of his cock to her chin, "you should hurry up and figure out whether you want to come in my mouth or come on my face, don't you think?" She had his cock deep in her throat again before Greg had any time to respond. * * * (Northern Maryland, near the Pennsylvania border. Now.) Armand Brisecoeur was sitting at his console before his array of monitors, pouring over figures and data, pointing out interesting pieces of trivia to Daniel, who was trying to follow the Belgian's excited speech about topics that as far as he could tell, had nothing to do with anything--rates of leakage of lead in a river in Wisconsin, the sharp fall in value of a local currency in Upstate New York, the subtle demographic changes in a medium-sized city in Arkansas. "So what are we doing, exactly?" he had asked several times. "Looking for a needle in a haystack, really." He pointed to the right-most screen, which was scrolling through rows and rows of numbers. "That's census data for the last hundred years, chopped and diced and sliced in every combination you can imagine and more, taken apart and put together to make it tell stories of the kind even Stephen King would have trouble making up." When Daniel did not comment, Brisecoeur grinned. "I came up with many of these algorithms, you know--data crunching at a scale people have problem grasping. Just so you know, that was my job when I first joined the Corporation--that's what we call it, the Corporation. Only newbies and ass-sticks call it ADCorp. You should remember that. Anyways, it's great to be back to good ol' data analysis." Daniel gave up getting a straight answer from the Belgian. "Back to data analysis? So what were you doing before this?" "Internal Affairs. It's not as bad as Enforcement, but still it still gets to you after a while. And everyone looks at you funny." "What's Enforcement?" Brisecoeur shot Daniel a glance. "Sorry, can't tell you. It's a clearance issue. They take that shit seriously here. Another thing you should keep in mind. Curiosity's not good for career advancement. Anyways: between Internal Affairs, Enforcement, and Freak duty, give me Freak duty!" "Okay. Let's try again. What the hell are those freaks you keep talking about?" Brisecoeur looked at him for a beat, a pinched smile on his lips. He kept typing as he was doing so, and Daniel for a second saw his friend Radhu in Brisecoeur's stead. "Freaks," said Brisecoeur, giving in. "Officially, the Corporation refers to them as Specials. But we just call them freaks. Because that's what they are. Freaks. Guys--because as far as we can tell, they're always guys--who are able to affect peoples' mind." Daniel felt a sharp stab of anxiety pierce through his chest. Memories of the previous year came flooding back unbidden. Memories of friends forced to do things they would not normally do--Cindy, Serena, Kyra--Jenn. He willed himself to calm down, tried to not let any emotion show on his face. Thankfully, Brisecoeur was focused on the screens before him. "You mean, like hypnosis?" Brisecoeur snorted, which degenerated into a coughing fit. "Ah! What freaks can do makes the best hypnotist you've never heard of look like a midget at an Olympic High Jump competition. It's more like telepathy. They get into the heads of people and shape them, twist them, scramble them. Girls. It's always girls, never boys, who are affected." Brisecoeur tilted his head as something caught his attention on one of the monitors, and fired a volley of keystrokes before settling back down. Daniel frowned. "Telepathy doesn't exist." "Indeed. Telepathy is complete bull. I said it's like telepathy. What they do goes way beyond telepathy. They can't read minds. But they can--rewire stuff inside. We don't know exactly how it works. But all it takes is a touch, really. And poof, they're inside, messing with a girl's emotions and thoughts and memories. And our job is to catch them, and contain them, and study them so that we can cure them." Daniel simply stared at the Belgian man. Brisecoeur nodded. "It's okay. I didn't believe it either when I was told. And then I met my first freak. You'll see. I won't spoil the surprise for you." He paused. "They're dangerous, dude. Aside from the fact that they can seriously mess up someone, they tend to go nuts. All that power, it gives them delusions of grandeur. They go psychotic. Cuckoo. And then they start doing real damage." "Was Doctor Cargyle a freak?" Brisecoeur looked at Daniel. "What do you think?" "When I met him, he didn't seem psychotic. He seemed... normal." Behind Daniel, a cold voice responded. "Cargyle was a sociopath intent on bringing down the whole world. A new world order. Did you already forget how much damage he did?" Daniel flinched. He turned to look at Shawbank who was strolling into the room with her typical slow-paced steps. She was dressed in black, as usual, the leather of her jacket creaking in the cold of the room. "I did not forget." How could he? "Good. Because if you forget that sort of thing, you're done for. If the Specials don't get you, I will." Daniel did not know if Shawbank was serious or not. Her face remained as expressionless as ever. "Brisecoeur," she addressed the Belgian, "what have we got?" Brisecoeur tapped on his keyboard, isolating a monitor and directing Shawbank's attention to it. "The usual. Computer's outlined some interesting statistics, some possible leads, but nothing jumped out at me. There's a bit of an economic dip in Upstate New York for no particular good reason, and it seems correlated with some local barter money fluctuating on the local market, but I couldn't push the analysis very far." Shawbank nodded sharply, and looked at the data that Brisecoeur had sent to the monitor. She frowned, studying the numbers and associated graph. Daniel looked at her, then at the data, wondering what she was looking for. "Is everything based on analyzing data?" he asked Brisecoeur. "No. We have a dedicated floor above us with teams of people scouring the news, looking for tidbits that might suggest a freak at play. Oh, they've got some help--natural language processors filtering through the various newsfeed, international, national, and local, highlighting items of interest for them, but the bulk of the work at that level is manual. Computers are good at data crunching, not so much at semantic analysis." Shawbank, who seemed to have ignored their exchange, shook her head. "What else?" Brisecoeur tapped some keys. The display changed. "We have a slight uptick in births in West Virginia, compared to the predicted birth rate based on a forty-years regression. The analysis suggests more correlations than expected." "What kind of correlations?" "Lots. An interesting one is that the increase in birth is almost all accounted for by an increase in the birth occurring within a two-weeks window at the nine months mark after the mothers' wedding. A first child in all cases." Shawbank studied the data. "Doesn't it make sense that there'd be more births nine months after the wedding night?" asked Daniel. "Turns out wedding night conceptions are pretty rare nowadays, except in highly religious communities. And this increase is not correlated with any such community, at least based on available data such as hospital of birth. And besides, the algos take all of that into consideration to come up with a prediction. This birth rate is an increase with respect to the predicted birth rate, which means it's not accounted for by the collected data." Shawbank interrupted him. "Any news links?" Brisecoeur nodded. "One. Beckley, West Virginia. Interview with a man whose son was born eight months and three weeks after the wedding, who claims he has had a vasectomy and therefore would not have been able to conceive. Story ran in the Register Herald three months ago." Shawbank nodded. "Get me the data, and a starting point." She turned to Daniel. "We're flying out tomorrow. Meet here at seven hundred. Pack light." She turned on her heels, and without saying goodbye, left the room. She did not rush out--in fact, could have been said to stroll leisurely out--but Daniel was left with the distinct impression that she had vanished in a flash. "Quite an effect, isn't it?" said Brisecoeur, as if he had read into Daniel's thoughts. Daniel looked at him, and turned to look at the data on the monitors. "So it that one of them? One of those freaks?" Brisecoeur shrugged. "Don't know. Most likely, yes. Shawbank's got the eye for spotting them." There was a sense of wonder in Brisecoeur's voice. Daniel had to ask. "How?" "Beats me. She's just scary that way." He hesitated for one second. "Well, in other ways, too..." Daniel had to agree with that assessment. * * * Four hours later, Daniel pushed open the door of his apartment, a nondescript rental in a nondescript high-rise near the Baltimore harbor. He carried a take-out box of Thai food, knowing he needed to eat but did not feel particularly hungry. He did not feel much of anything. He had driven back from ADCorp in silence, against traffic, his mind a buzz of white noise. Aside from the Thai food, he also carried an ADCorp-supplied tablet computer that Brisecoeur had loaded with files about the Specials--the freaks. Case studies, biological studies, psychological studies. Brisecoeur had assured him that there was enough information in there to keep him busy until the next century. Was Doctor Thaddeus Cargyle, the man responsible for the fiasco at Darnell University this past semester, the cause of all of Daniel's troubles, a freak? Brisecoeur had not answered the question. Neither had Shawbank. O'Neill had told him, several months ago, that Cargyle was a researcher at ADCorp. And Brisecoeur had said that he and Shawbank were Internal Affairs before their current assignment. So Cargyle was an Internal Affairs case? This did not prevent him from being one of the freaks. O'Neill words resonated in his head: Trust no one. The two-bedroom apartment he rented was half-furnished, and held a couch and a side table in the living room. Daniel had not seen fit to add to that in any way. The wooden floor and empty walls echoed with the sound of his footsteps. He had lost most of his possessions in the fire that burned down his place back in North Alexandria in the spring, and he had no real drive to replace any of it. He dropped the Thai food and the tablet on the side table, and his eyes automatically went to the large poster on the far wall of the living room, the only decoration breaking the monotony of the off-white walls. It was a poster-sized shot of Jenn, looking back at the camera over her shoulder, her long brown hair catching in the wind, a dazzling smile on her lips, a sparkle in her eyes. Daniel's heart caught as it always did, and he stared, losing himself in the feeling. Where are you? he wondered, as he always did when he looked at her. Are you okay? What are you doing? He felt helpless. That she had not contacted him--or her mother, or anyone she knew--did not suggest happy things. Like an infected splinter, the memory of Biff looking at him in a North Alexandria strip club after he had forced Jenn to dance onstage itched, impossible to ignore, impossible to scratch. The words were seared in his mind. "See, I put a little thing in that cute head of hers, a little thing that ensures that if she's away from me for too long, well, she goes nuts. She starts craving dicks real bad, and there's nothing she can do to get rid of the hunger. If you manage to get her away from me, your loving little ex-fiancee is gonna become a cock-craving slut good only for the nuthouse." Daniel hoped against hope that Biff had just been pulling his leg, finding a new way to torment him. But he had seen how Biff had treated Jenn, and he could not dismiss easily the possibility that what Biff had said was true. Which meant that right now, Jenn was suffering. Daniel closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and eventually felt his clenched fists unfurl. Anger, worry, guilt, none of it would help him find Jenn. He stared at the poster on the wall for a few more minutes before dropping down on the couch. Part of him felt exhausted, part of him felt restless. I should be out looking for her, he thought. Not sitting here waiting to head out to friggin' West Virginia to go look for a freak--whatever that is. But that was the arrangement he had made with O'Neill: while he Daniel would be working with ADCorp, he O'Neill would be out looking for Jenn. And while it made him feel useless, Daniel had to recognize that it made sense. Sam O'Neill was a private investigator that Daniel had first contacted right after Jenn had disappeared for the first time, before Daniel knew all of the shenanigans at Delta Iota Kappa and the existence of Cargyle. O'Neill had finally showed up when the disaster at Darnell went down--when the fraternity burned down and everyone died. O'Neill had been investigating ADCorp for years, for reasons he had explained, but he was the one who pointed out that Cargyle had worked for ADCorp, and that they may hold the key to how he could save Jenn. In exchange for Daniel accepting the job he had been offered with the ADCorp and be willing to report on what he saw and heard, O'Neill had offered his services and expertise to track down Jenn. It had taken some convincing, but Daniel had eventually relented, extracting from O'Neill a promise that he would keep Daniel updated with his progress. O'Neill had told him to trust no one. But did he trust O'Neill? He did, although he did not have anything to go on except a strong gut feeling. Too many people with too many agendas. What was O'Neill's agenda? The private investigator wanted inside information on ADCorp. Why? O'Neill had said that he suspected they were behind the abduction and corruption of women throughout the country. He had no definite evidence, only leads, and he needed an informant. Daniel, for lack of a better plan, had agreed to be that informant. Daniel looked at the time. It was nearly eight o'clock, meaning it was nearly five in the afternoon in California. He picked up the laptop from the floor near the couch, and started up the custom video chat software he had installed. It was time to catch up with how Cindy was doing. Cindy. One additional oddity in a half year filled with oddities. Born Cindy Caprese, currently going by the name Cynthia Barnes, she had attended Darnell where she had shared a few classes with him in their senior year. The short and perky blonde had had a none-too-subtle crush on Daniel, but had respected the fact that he was dating Jenn. Later, when Jenn was abducted and controlled by Biff, Cindy became a friend that Daniel could rely on, helping him and Radhu solve the mystery of the strange hold that the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity had on several girls across campus, hold that was really Cargyle programming those girls to respond to triggers and obey the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity members. It did not take a doctorate to guess what those teenage college students did with their ability to control the girls. Cindy had been one such girl, programmed to respond to those triggers, and to act out whatever perverted fantasy the brothers dreamed up. Except that the programming, for reasons unknown, had not really taken. She had slowly regained awareness of her activities when she was triggered, even though--and that was one of the things that Daniel still had some difficulty understanding--she kept going along with the charade, kept being used. She told him, later, that she had always had a submissive streak, that she enjoyed submission, but there was a strong resistance from within herself to those desires which kept her from feeling sexually fulfilled, and the programming that the doctor had performed had helped reduce that resistance. Basically, when she was triggered, she could enjoy sex again. Still, she helped him hunt down Biff and try to get Jenn back, and for that he would be forever grateful. She was a friend, one of the few ones he had left. A friend with benefits, too, as the saying went. They slept together. There was no romance involved--at least on his part--but it was pleasant, there was no denying it, and it helped fill a void that he worked hard at denying existed. It made him feel close to someone. Even though Cindy was now across the country, in California, studying for an M.D. Ph.D. at UCLA. She was studying under an assumed name, courtesy of O'Neill, who had saved her from unknown attackers back in North Alexandria--probably the same group that had stormed and destroyed the fraternity house. O'Neill had thought it best to make it look like Cindy had been killed in the fire that ravaged Daniel's apartment. They spoke often through an encrypted video chat system that Cindy herself had customized, running over an anonymizing network. She was smart. As smart as Radhu was, he thought, with a pang of regret. She was online, and picked up on the third ring. "Dan!" The perky blonde's voice rang through the speaker as if she was beside him. Her image showed up on the screen, her long blonde hair framing a face dominating by a huge smile. He could just imagine her, basking in the southern California sun, her eternal short skirt swishing around her. He felt another pang--guilt, this time--at finding so much pleasure with speaking to a girl while his Jenn was off somewhere, lost, maybe suffering. "Hey Cin. Bad time?" "No, it's perfect, actually. I'm just out of Biology. Did you know the human foot has twenty-six bones, thirty-three joints, nineteen muscles, and one hundred and seven ligaments? And that I have to learn them all, before moving on to the leg, the pelvis, the back, and then--" "So they're keep you busy, huh?" Cindy laughed. "Yeah, that they are. It's just weird to be back in school, you know? It's more of the same, but all different. And I finally met my new roommate today. A sweet girl. Maura." "Glad to hear. And you got some sun, too..." Her skin had taken on a golden hue. "Southern California will do that you-- Oh, Dan, you should see this place. It's wonderful. I mean, LA is okay, but you just jump in the car and once you get out of the traffic hell, you're up in the hills and mountains and it's so peaceful it's insane. When are you coming down?" "Soon, Cin. I'm just getting started here." "That's right, it was your first day today. How was it?" "Okay. Compared to the three months of boot camp, pretty mellow. Met the team today." "Ah! So are you working with Super Cop?" Super Cop was Cindy's nickname for Agent Shawbank. "Yeah. Her and a little Belgian man with too much energy." He paused, trying to verbalize something that had been bothering him since the end of the afternoon. "You know, I don't really understand her. I mean, she's the one that recommended me for the job, yet I get the distinct feeling that she's not really happy I'm here." "You'll figure it out, I have no fear." She flashed him one of her dazzling smiles. "So do you know what you're going to be doing yet?" "Kind of. We got our first assignment." "Cool! Anything fun?" "I don't know. I'm not quite sure what it entails. I'll... well, I'll let you know more details when I learn them, but it's weird." "Weird... as in, Doctor Spooky weird?" Doctor Spooky was Doctor Cargyle--O'Neill had warned them not to speak too cavalierly about the events at Darnell that spring. "Yes, Doctor Spooky weird. Maybe weirder." "Then I definitely want to hear the details. Are you going somewhere fun?" "West Virginia." "Fun enough, I guess. Oh, Mister Dick got in touch last night." Mister Dick was O'Neill's code name,--Cindy's idea, yet she always had difficulty containing a giggle whenever she used it--Daniel shook his head, amazed at the fact that this neurosurgeon-to-be had the sense of humor of a ten-year old. "He said he was tracking a lead on the Girl, somewhere in New York." The Girl was Jenn. "He'll be in touch once he learns more." "Do you talk to him much?" "Every other day or so. He came to help me move here, I told you, yes? I think he's keeping an eye on me. Like he's worried about me or something. It's sweet." "Sweet--not a word I'd associate with Mister Dick." "Oh, get off. I bet he's feeling guilty about snatching me off and forcing me into a new identity and all. And I'll be honest, it's kindda nice to be taken care of a bit. Even though part of me wants to kick him and do exactly the opposite of what he wants me to do." "You know, Cin, I don't think I'll ever understand you." "I heard men like mystery. There you go." She grinned. "By the way, talking about liking--are you growing a beard?" He reached up, ran his finger over the stubble that were slowly forming a beard. "Yeah, I think so. I wanted--I don't know, I think I wanted something a little different. You're the first one to notice." "Oh, I'm sure Super Cop noticed. Anyway, I like it. It gives you a bit of a roguish air." "Roguish air?" "Yes. Oh, you should grow one of those handlebar mustaches too--you know, so you can stroke it when you're being all cunning?" She laughed, and Daniel found himself smiling in response--her laughter was infectious. "So--fun night in perspective?" Cindy asked. Daniel eyed his take-out Thai food, getting cold on the side table, then looked over the empty apartment. "As fun as it gets. We're off tomorrow morning, so I'll try to get some sleep." "Don't get all mopey, all right? My laptop will be on, and I'll be logged in. Call me if you get too down. Any time. You know that, yes?" "I do. Appreciate it, Cin." And he did. "Who know, when you call, maybe I'll have Dan Junior here--" and she lifted a large, realistic dildo to her face, pressing it against her cheek, "and I can act out what I'd do if you were right here beside me ready to fuck my little tushy off." Daniel could not help let out a groan as on the screen Cindy slipped Dan Junior into her mouth and sucked on it, never breaking eye contact with him.

Author: Bulgroz the Third Title: The Adjusters #5 - The First Card Keywords: MF, mc Posted: May 6, 2010 Edited: March 24, 2011 The Adjusters #5 The First Card "The other musketeers are still coming over tonight?" asked Jenn, as Daniel cleared the table after dinner. "Yup." He started the water for the dishes. "I should double check we have snacks." "We do." Jenn settled down and finished her glass of wine watching him work. "So what's happening with Serena? I've been so busy these past two weeks that I haven't seen her." "I don't really know, actually. I haven't seen her much either. Still investigating still frustrated, I suppose. She's been pretty scarce. Even Radhu's starting to mope. We'll get to ask her tonight." "Glad she could find the time to come and join us." "She does enjoy her Kittens' Den." Jenn smiled and said nothing. She watched Daniel quietly as he washed the dishes. There was no set schedule for domestic duties, and they had never really needed one. They somehow managed to find a natural rhythm. Jenn viewed it as further proof they were perfect for each other; Daniel did not disagree. Daniel was sorely tempted to tell Jenn that he had been talking to various people, investigating options in Austin, but Jenn had made clear throughout the week, whenever he had attempted to broach the topic, that she did not want to talk about it until their date in December. Before he could contemplate the prospect further, however, his cell phone buzzed. "Can you get that? My hands are wet." "It's Serena," Jenn said after picking up the phone. "Hey sweetie, Jenn here. Yes, he's here. Doing his domestic duties. Got him well trained. Sure, hold on." She put the phone to Daniel's ear. "Hi Serena, what's up?" "I need a favor." Serena sounded like she was outside. "Shoot." "I'm up on West Campus, and I'm set up to talk to this guy who says he knows something about Marjorie, and... Well, I could use some company, someone that won't spook him." "Huh... sure, okay. West Campus. I guess I can be there in fifteen, twenty minutes? Are we still doing Kittens' Den afterwards?" "Of course, wouldn't miss it for the world." Jenn looked at Daniel with a question on her face, and he brought her up to speed after disconnecting. "We shouldn't be too long. If Radhu shows up, just distract him. I'll call you when we're on our way back." "Okay. Be careful." "Don't worry. I know how to handle Serena." Jenn hit him on the shoulder. "Go before I beat you." The bus ride to West Campus was quick, and Daniel stepped off at the main stop on the road that sneaked through the student dormitories making up that section of Darnell. Serena was waiting, under a lamplight. She hugged him. He thought she looked tired. "Thanks for coming," she said. "No problem. Though I don't understand why I'm here, really." She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "I'll tell you later. We should get going." "Where are we off to?" Serena was taking them to one of the residence halls, a tall red brick building with conspicuous ivy covering most of the facade. One of the smaller halls, Daniel knew, and one that housed mainly graduate students. "We're meeting with a student, Jeremy Blatawski. He was Marjorie's last known boyfriend." "Was?" "Supposedly, they broke up about a month ago." "A month ago. Wait, that's --" "That's pretty much when the weird stuff started happening. Funny that." At the reception desk, Serena told the student attendant that she was expected, and Jeremy Blatawski was called down. He showed up after five minutes and let them in. They headed to the dining hall which was slowly emptying after dinner. Daniel seized up Jeremy on the walk and knew that Serena was doing exactly the same. Tall and thin without being lanky, Jeremy Blatawski was unremarkable: dark hair neither long nor short, features neither ugly nor handsome, and wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, which were almost camouflage on a campus. He was a chemistry doctoral candidate, they learned, three years into his program, researching the effects of corrosive agents on the next generation of plastic polymers. "You said on the phone that you wanted to know about Marjorie then?" asked Jeremy, drinking a chamomile tea. Daniel and Serena had declined food and drinks. They were seated at an isolated table in the dining hall. "Yes," said Serena, pulling out a notebook. Unsure of his role, Daniel merely sat and listened. "I'm investigating her disappearance for the Daily, and I just had a few questions for you. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me." Daniel was always amazed at how his friend could channel a professional tone and composure at the drop of a hat. It made such a remarkable difference from the exuberant girl he was used to. "It's no problem at all. I'm just afraid I won't be able to help you much. I haven't seen Marjorie in almost a month now." An expression of sadness clouded over his face, and he stared at the wall in silence, lost in thoughts. Serena gave him a minute before continuing. "I understand, Mister Blatawski. Still, you may know something that could help us find her. Now, you and Marjorie were a couple, yes?" "Yes. For almost a year. We met when I was her teaching assistant for Intro to Chem. She came to my office hours with a few questions, we hit it off, and we started seeing each other more and more. We kept it secret until the end of semester because, you know, it's frowned upon, TAs and students cavorting. Of course, I made sure that the other TA for the course graded her papers and exams, so at least ethically-speaking I'm clean, to myself if to no one else." "Tell me about Marjorie." "What's there to say? She was wonderful. Always smiling, almost bubbly at times, full of energy. She loved photography -- she worked at the paper, so you probably knew that already." Serena nodded. "She was an Arts major, photography and digital arts. Although she loved anything having to do with images." "And she took chemistry?" Daniel asked. Jeremy shrugged. "Someone told her that it might be a good course to take given that some of the stuff she was interested in was old-fashioned photography with film emulsions, as well as painting with contemporary products to get effects distinct from traditional oil or acrylic paints. I thought that was a bit misguided -- the level at which we look at things in chemistry was way overkill for what she wanted to do -- but I can't complain since it got us to talk at length in the first place. And she was good at it, too. It didn't do much for her painting, but it gave her some background to understand what I work on." "And how would you characterize her relationships? How does she get along with people? With men?" "She's okay with people. Friendly, liked to talk. She isn't exceedingly comfortable with men, but she isn't afraid or anything. Maybe just a bit intimidated at times. She's shy. But she was perfectly relaxed with me." "And she is beautiful." "Yes. Maybe that was part of the problem. Men would often hit on her, and she never really knew how to respond. She could be pretty reserved, unless she had a camera before her, and then she became someone completely different." "So what happened to break it off?" "I wish I could tell you, but it all happened so fast I'm not sure I know myself. I was in the Ghetto, at a friend's, and just when I was leaving his apartment I see her in the hallway of the building. I call her name, she seems not to hear me, so I run after her, turn the corner, and I see her knocking at another apartment's door. She's wearing this long jacket, which I thought was weird because it was late August and pretty hot out. The door opens, this boy greets her, they exchange a few words, and then she steps up to him and kisses him. They kiss for a while, and she pulls up closer and rubs herself against him likes she really wants to get it on. I'm shocked. To say the least. The kiss lasts a while, and then the boy lets her in and closes the door behind her. I don't know what to do at that point. I almost go up and knock on the door myself, but I don't have the guts. What would happen anyways? It's either her, and then what's there to say, or it's not her, and I make a fool of myself. So I just leave and head back here." Serena interrupted him gently. "Do you remember the apartment number?" Jeremy nodded. "Apartment 3. At 102 College Drive." "Thank you," said Serena, scribbling down the information. "Please, continue." "Not much more to tell, sadly. Later that night, she calls me, asks me if she can come over, but I ask her about her evening. She says that she was home all evening to study, and that she had missed me. I ask her if she went out at any point, and I guess I'm not very smooth about it, cause she asks me why I'm asking, and before too long I'm demanding to know who the guy was and she's telling me that she didn't know I could be such a jerk, and then I'm shouting and she's shouting, and she hangs up on me or me on her, and that's the last I've heard from Marjorie." "Wow," says Serena. "Painful stuff. I'm so sorry. No words from her at all?" "Nothing. She had a friend of hers bring me a small box of stuff I had left at her place. Toothbrush, socks, those sort of stupid... Fuck, I'm sorry." He turned away from Serena and Daniel, wiping his eyes discreetly. "Sorry," he continued. "Didn't realize this was so... fresh still. Hardest thing is that I don't know what happened, how things went from great to shitty all in one evening." "It is just one more strange thing among many strange things about this case, Mister Blatawski. May I ask you a more... personal question? Feel free not to answer if you find it too invasive." "Go ahead." He sounded tired. "How were you and Marjorie doing sexually? Any problems? Anything odd? Anything that you think might be relevant?" Jeremy shrugged. "Not really, no. I mean, everything was normal, I guess. I mean... Look, I haven't had that much experience with girls, before. I had a few girlfriends, but nothing really really serious, so it's kind of hard to compare. It was so different with Marjorie, it was, I don't know..." "It was made better by the fact that there was this perfect connection between you two," completed Daniel. Serena gave him a curious look. "Exactly." Jeremy smiled. "A catalyst of sorts, if I can make a chem analogy. But yes, sex was great, not because it was necessarily great by itself, though it was, but because I loved her. And I thought she loved me. Until that evening, that is. Now, I don't know. I don't know anything anymore." "I'm not sure how to ask this, Mister Blatawski, so forgive me again for being blunt. Did Marjorie have any fantasies of submission?" Jeremy looked at Serena with confusion. "What do you mean, submission?" "Did she ever mention anything or do anything to suggest that she was aroused by fantasies of being submissive to someone else?" "You mean, like whips and leather and stuff like that?" "Well, that can be a part of it, but not exclusively. Submission can be purely intellectual. Did Marjorie ever give any indication of obeying to people that were forceful, or dominating, not out of fear, but out of something like duty, or even desire?" Jeremy looked at a loss. "No, not that I can think of. I mean, as I said, she was shy, usually, so she did not put up fights or stuff, but, she was not deferential or anything like that. At worse, she would try to disappear in a corner, make herself invisible, shut up, maybe even leave. But obey, or doing something that someone else wanted her to do just because they would ask forcefully? No, that's not Marjorie. Or, I mean, not the Marjorie I thought I knew." He shook his head. Serena stole a glance at Daniel, and gave him a quick nod. "Thank you, Mister Blatawski. This was very helpful. If you remember anything else that you think is relevant, please don't be shy and just call me -- you still have my number?" She stood up, and Daniel followed suit. Jeremy, looking like he had been pounded on by a heavyweight champ, remained sitting in his chair. "Do you know what happened to her? Do you know what's going on?" "That's exactly what I'm trying to find out, Mister Blatawski. As soon as I get some answers, I will be sure to inform you." She paused. "She was my friend too." Serena and Daniel were turning to leave, when Serena stopped and looked at Jeremy. "One last question: have you ever seen this bracelet?" She showed him the charms bracelet they had found in the alley behind The Spirited Flesh the previous week. "Huh, yes, it was Marjorie's. Well, Marjorie had one like that. I've seen a few like that around." "Do you know where she got it from?" "No idea. She just had it on, one day. I asked about it, and she said she won it in some contest. She kept winning stuff -- a stuffy alligator, a sock puppet made to resemble our school mascot, stuff like that. She loved games." He looked ready to cry again. "One last question, for real this time. Did Marjorie have anything to do with the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity?" "Not that I know of. Marjorie didn't care for frats or sororities. Perhaps through a piece for the paper? That job took her to various places on campus." "Perhaps. Thanks again, Mister Blatawski. Good night." On their way out of the residence, Serena was deep in thought, intermittently talking to herself. "I checked at the paper, and Marjorie wasn't on any story involving Delta Iota Kappa. Worth checking the contest angle. And trying to find other people with that bracelet. And of course talking to that guy on College Drive." "Can I ask you a question?" asked Daniel. "What was that about submission?" "Just something that's coming out of the chats I've been having with people these last few weeks. Marjorie was acting weird, and there was this sense that she was not herself, that she was basically doing what other people wanted. I can't quite put it into words, but the way people talked about it, she behaved a bit like a submissive. Not quite though. It's weird. Subs tend to show those tendencies across the board, but Marjorie didn't do that. It's like it was switched on and off. But submission doesn't work that way." Daniel did not ask her how she knew. Serena had grown silent again, thinking. Back at the bus stop, she seemed to snap out of it, shaking her head. "Okay, then. Bus back? We have ourselves a little show to watch, right?" She smiled at Daniel who responded in kind. "Indeed. Jenn and Radhu are probably waiting for us by now. Huh, Serena, can I ask? Why did you want me here?" "You mean that you're not curious about Marjorie? No, I know, okay. I was just a bit... worried. Really silly of me, I know. But it helps to have my knight in shining armor by my side on such outings." "Serena, the day you're going to need a knight in shining armor to protect you is the day I'll vote Republican. Right after I join the Army." Serena grinned. "Okay, okay." She became serious. "I received this earlier today, at the paper, and I admit that it spooked me just a little bit. I just didn't really feel like being alone." Daniel picked up the folded piece of paper that Serena was holding out. It was blank except for Serena's name on the outside, in blue ink, and only a few words printed on the inside. "Stop looking for Marjorie Duquesne, or you will regret it." "That's rather... direct, " Daniel said, after a pause. "Yeah. Very Sopranos. At least, no horse head in my bed. Yet." She laughed. Daniel looked at her, unsure of the joke. "I gotta laugh at it, don't I? I'm not going to stop, for sure. As I told Jeremy, Marjorie was a friend. And she's in trouble. That's pretty clear now. Someone doesn't want me to find her. So now I just have to find that someone." "Serena, I don't like this. It's starting to sound dangerous." "Then it's a good thing I've got you around to protect me, no?" The bus arrived before Daniel could say anything in response. When they made it back to the apartment that Daniel and Jenn shared, they could tell from the voices from the living room that Radhu was already there. "Hi love, I'm back," shouted Daniel, "and I found someone on the way, just wandering the streets, lonely. Can we keep her?" Jenn and Radhu were sitting in the living room, talking and drinking. Radhu, relaxed but still sitting straight on the sofa, Jenn looking a little crazed, rising to meet Daniel and Serena as they entered the room. "Sorry we're late," said Daniel, kissing his girlfriend. "Hey Rad, hope you haven't been waiting too long." "No," Radhu replied. "Just ten minutes. I was regaling your girlfriend here with the latest news about Higgs bosons and what physicist are endeavoring to discover at CERN in the coming years. The latest article in Physics Review Letters is simply fascinating." Jenn made a face, and mouthed an unmistakable "Help!" Daniel laughed, and sat beside his friend. "Rad, what did I tell you about talking to women?" "Jenn is not a woman, she's your girlfriend." Even Serena had to suppress a giggle at that one. Jenn frowned. Daniel shook his head, then headed off the argument. "How about you bring me up to speed before we start the show, while we let the ladies catch up?" "Actually, Jenn," said Serena, "do you mind if I borrow some comfy clothes for the evening? This is a bit stiff, and I forgot to pack anything else." "No problem." Jenn took Serena by the arm while casting an evil eye at Radhu. "We'll find you something that fits." While Radhu entertained Daniel with the latest updates about the Large Hadron Collider, Daniel set up the entertainment system for their show. He recorded the weekly showings of Kittens' Den, an HBO series that all of them had been watching together, every Thursday night, for the past six months. "Do you know what tonight's episode is about?" asked Radhu. "Nope." Daniel fiddled with the remote control. "I sincerely hope this will not label me a turncoat, as you so colorfully say, but I find myself preferring this series to the original Whedon's series," said Radhu. "Yeah," replied Daniel, having figured out the right sequence of buttons to press. "Dollhouse was good, but it was needlessly dark and aimless. And following a character without real agency was a tough one. It got a bit better there at the end, but still. Well, this one's on cable, so I guess it gives them a bit more freedom. I mean, Megan Fox, half naked, right?" Radhu merely smiled. "You want something to drink?" asked Daniel, heading for the kitchen. "No thank you, I'm good." When Daniel came back, Jenn had returned with Serena. They had managed to find something for Serena to wear, and Daniel grinned when he saw Radhu's face, who looked as close to having his eyes bulge out as he ever had. And for a good reason, thought Daniel. Serena had on one of his girlfriend's camisoles, which was exceedingly tight across her generous chest -- somewhat larger than Jenn's -- as well as a pair of cotton shorts that were just as tight. She looked relaxed and demure, and sexy as all hell, a picture out of a lingerie catalog. Daniel took an appreciative look at Serena's long legs, then shrugged at Jenn as if to say "what can I say, they're nice," adding a look that was meant to convey "but I prefer yours." Jenn smiled in return. She was also dressed to lounge, but she had chosen a long flowing cotton dress that hugged her curves. He noted, not for the first time, how lucky he was to have such wonderful and beautiful girls around him -- Serena the exotic firecracker, with the body of a wild beast, and Jenn the elegant beauty, with the body of a graceful toned dancer. Daniel was certain that had Radhu been able to voice an opinion at that moment he would have agreed. Everyone settled down around the living room in the pattern that had evolved over all those television or movie nights that had become their biweekly routine -- a semi-structured way for them to spend some time together, the three musketeers who were really four. They often would pick a series to watch and religiously follow it; they went through much of Lost that way, the first few seasons of Heroes before it became unwatchable, and of course Dollhouse until its cancellation. Jumping ship to the knock-off Kittens' Den was a step they had taken with the collective equivalent of an amused grin, fully expecting to mock the new show and then move on to something better. To their surprise, the pilot episode of Kittens' Den had turned out to be good, and the following episodes were watched with interest, a phenomenon that was repeated across households the whole country over. The show received phenomenal ratings, especially considering that it was essentially a science-fiction show, and broadcast on a cable network. That last fact certainly helped the show runners, since they were not subject to the usual broadcast restrictions. The setup of the show was similar to that of its inspiration -- a large corporation develops a mind-imprint technology that it uses to supply a special service to wealthy customers, namely the rental of women with specifically designed personalities. Those women are housed in residences where they are taken care of and kept docile between assignments. When a customer shows up with a specific need, a suitable host, campily called a kitten, is chosen and imprinted with the requested personality, and loaned to the client. After the agreed-upon completion of the assignment, the kitten returns to the den and her mind is wiped, until a new customer requires her service. Swap out kittens for dolls, and you had Dollhouse. One difference, made abundantly clear as early as the pilot episode, was that while Dollhouse used sex and sexual fantasies for titillation and fan service only and focused on customers with somewhat unlikely needs, Kittens' Den took the much more believable narrative path that in all likelihood kittens would be used primarily for sexual gratification -- for a fee, you could get a beautiful girl with a body to kill for and a personality that could be adjusted to be anything you wanted, to enact any kink, any fetish, any twisted scenario your mind could devise. Both shows' main storyline revolved around a discussion of the ethics of using mind imprints, but told that story differently: Dollhouse focused on the dolls, while Kittens' Den used the staff of the corporation and their customers to advance its story arc, the kittens essentially playing the role of victim-of-the-week. The show had managed to land various actresses to guest spot as kittens, and that the vast majority of those stars had ended up naked and doing something sexual on screen had people flocking. Megan Fox had been a particularly popular guest, so much so that she had started to make regular appearances. That night's episode, the musketeers were to discover, was focused on Fox's character, a kitten with a past, and explored that past. As Daniel and Jenn cuddled together under a blanket at one end of the couch, and Radhu and Serena sat in two seats at the other end, Radhu with his long legs extended before him, Serena with her own folded under her and sipping a steaming mug of tea, the show started and quickly jumped into the story of Fox's character. It sounded familiar to the musketeers: Fox's character, before becoming a kitten, was a friendly girl, a freshman in college, who just happened to reject the advances of some wealthy jerk in some Chicago bar. The man took his revenge by having the poor girl essentially abducted and turned into a kitten. He then paid to be able to have his way with her, whenever he felt the inclination. The personality he chose for her, more often than not, was her original personality, slightly adjusted to make her more receptive to his advances. "Hey, that's just Sierra's backstory from Dollhouse," commented Radhu mid-show. "Except there it was just a single scene and mostly dialogue," replied Serena. And indeed, rather than simply hint at the ordeals of the character, the episode chose to dramatize the event, from the character's initial meeting of the wealthy jerk to the first time the character visited him on kitten assignment, wearing the same short white dress she had worn at that first meeting, a dress that left very little to the imagination, complete with a tall pair of come-get-me heels, white as well. The character looked positively virginal, the white material contrasting with the olive skin of Fox, who played the role with an intensity that was refreshing considering her previous movie outings. And when her character went on to seduce the wealthy jerk, who of course had arranged the whole scenario and took a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction in making her character beg to be taken and used, the world had its first glimpse of Fox fully naked, after a small striptease that undoubtedly stained the crotch of millions of male teenagers, followed by the unexpected scene of Fox's character servicing the wealthy jerk. Now that was television to guarantee ratings. Jenn harrumphed. "Okay, so she's beautiful, in a vapid empty sort of way. I don't see why everyone on this planet is so infatuated with her, though." "Well, she is beautiful, with a culturally-appropriate body. Isn't that enough?" asked Daniel. "There are thousands and thousands of girls like her, just as beautiful, just as sexy. But Fox seems to be held on a pedestal for absolutely no reason I can discern. There isn't an iota of personality in those eyes." "Perhaps that's what attracts the common man so much, that utter lack of personality," said Serena. Fox's character on the screen was getting pounced from behind, actively urging her wealthy john to take her deeper. Radhu, eyes glued to the screen, replied in a mock insulted tone. "Not every man desires vapidity and bimboism. Some of us find personality extremely arousing." Serena turned to him. "Radhu, my dear, you are not the common man." "Sorry folks, but could you all please shut up and watch the show?" said Daniel, trying for exasperation. Jenn turned to him and cuddled up close. "Oh," she said, "are we keeping you from enjoying your favorite actress getting it on? Are we distracting you?" Her hand, hidden under the blanket on their lap, slid down to his crotch. "Oh my, you really like her, don't you?" Her voice was a whisper in his ear, her breath blowing warm across his neck. She rubbed his cock through his trousers, squeezing and pressing. "You like how she's getting fucked, right there on the screen? How she's getting it from behind? I don't blame you; I may find her a empty-headed bimbo, but she's got a hot body. I'd do her." The image conjured in Daniel's head had the intended effect, and his cock jerked. Jenn laughed softly, and rubbed his cock harder. "Unless it's the fact that she's forced to do what she's doing that turns you on so much, that she's got no choice but to obey?" "Hey you two," said Serena. "Get a room!" Jenn laughed and settled to get back to watching the show, but kept her hand on Daniel's crotch. She deftly unzipped his trousers and snuck her hand hand inside, softly caressing Daniel's cock while he slide her dress up over her legs and caressed them, still hidden by the blanket. He had the fleeting thought that he wished Jenn was more comfortable exposing those legs of hers. Then again, she was more than happy to wear tight clothes, which outlined her legs perfectly, and if she was uncomfortable showing actual skin, that was her business. He was sure there were things about him that she was not completely thrilled about anyways. Compromise -- every relationship is compromise, he had learned the hard way. And if one's extent of compromising is having to accept one's girlfriend not being comfortable showing off her legs to random people, well, one was a lucky son of a gun. They watched the end of the episode just like that, and afterwards just left the television on to catch whatever was playing, a movie about zombies in this particular case. It was quiet, very quiet in the apartment. Daniel sneaked a glance over at Radhu and Serena. Radhu was fast asleep, long legs stretched out before him. Serena was asleep as well, her head resting on her folded arms on the side of the one seater. Jenn, who was still intermittently playing with Daniel's cock, looked at him. "What?" she asked. "Nothing. They're asleep." "Does that make us bad hosts?" "Don't know, but it does mean that I can be a bit more free to do this," and he ran his hand on the insider of her thigh, under her dress, and touched the outline of her pussy through her panties, making her gasp. "What are you doing?" she whispered. "You've been playing with me and teasing me for the past twenty minutes," he said. "I'm about to go nuts here. So I'm upping the ante." "Can't we just wait until they've gone?" she said, before closing her eyes as Daniel slipped two fingers under the flimsy material covering her sex and slid them inside her. She was wet, he noted. Good. "I can't wait," he said. "I want you." She turned her head to look at their friends sleeping. "Are you crazy?" "I'm not crazy, I'm horny. You've been teasing me, now's time to pay up. Only fair. Besides," he grinned, "I'm cashing this in." And he handed her a small card. Jenn stared at it, having recognized it immediately, and even though it was dark Daniel could tell by the glow from the television screen that Jenn was blushing. Well, he thought, I guess there's a first time for everything. "Now?" she asked. "But --" "Didn't you say anytime, anywhere? Your words. Now if you don't wanna play anymore..." Jenn stiffened, then shook her head in resolve. "No. I'll do it. What... what does it say?" She looked at the card. "Order a player you control to perform any single sexual act you desire." "Consider yourself lucky that I picked this one instead of any of the other two I have," said Daniel. Jenn looked at him. "What do you want?" "I'll go easy on you. One of your wonderful blow jobs will do just fine." Jenn looked at Radhu and Serena one last time, then crouched next to Daniel, ducked her head under the blanket, and pulled his trousers down his thighs. Daniel could not see anything because of the blanket, but he could feel Jenn's hand on his cock, followed by her warm breath seconds before the took the head in her mouth and sucked, hard. He gasped, and sank down into the sofa, making himself comfortable. On the screen, Woody Harrelson was wielding a shotgun and shooting zombies. Jenn was really going to town on his cock, and the added effect of not being able to see her seemed to multiply the sensations. Her head was bobbing up and down under the blanket, and a muffled slurping sound could be heard dimly. Jenn was taking his cock in her mouth deep, not bothering to be subtle about it, sucking to achieve maximum effect in the shortest amount of time. Before long his hips were moving to meet her descending lips, and he moaned. He ran a hand over her back, down to her ass, and he squeezed it through the dress. He toyed with the idea of lifting her dress to fondle her directly, and shot a glance to Radhu and Serena to make sure they were still asleep. He had no reason to think they were not, so he nearly jumped when he saw that Serena was staring right at him. His eyes grew wide, and was about to tell Jenn to stop when Serena shook her head and put a finger across her lips. Jenn's head was bobbing up and down under the blanket and it was perfectly obvious was she was doing. Radhu was sleeping away. Daniel watched Serena, who kept her gaze locked on his, as she let her hand travel down from her mouth to her chest, and squeezed one of her breasts, methodically, pinching a nipple through the thin material of the camisole. Daniel's eyes grew wider as he realized that Serena was getting turned on watching his girlfriend go down on him. He was torn between wanting to stop everything, and just take full advantage of the situation, as eerie as it was. And then the combination of Jenn starting to suck even harder under the blanket and Serena unfolding her long legs and spreading them wide, clinched it. His cock seemed to get even harder, and if Jenn noticed she did not show it. He ran his hand down back to her ass and squeezed again, harder, eliciting a moan from under the blanket. His eyes were glued to Serena's fingers that were tracing lazy circles on her inner thigh, while he slowly pulled Jenn's dress over her legs and then over her ass, which she dutifully raised to help him. The way free, he fondled the exposed cheeks, caressing and rubbing and squeezing, unconsciously following the rhythm of Jenn's suction. Serena was still playing with her breasts and her thighs, teasing herself by almost but not quite slipping her fingers down her shorts. Daniel felt no such compulsion, and despite the awkward position, slid a finger through Jenn's panties and ran it through her slit, finding it dripping wet. Jenn moaned around his cock, and simultaneously took him deep into her mouth and lifted her ass up to provide him with better access, allowing Daniel to slide his finger into her snatch, unaware of the show she was putting on. Serena's eyes left Daniel's and followed his finger in its in and out motion, fascinated. They kept it up for a few minutes, the muffled sounds of Jenn's slurping and occasional gagging barely audible over the sounds from the television. "Jenn," he whispered, eventually, "fuck, I'm going to come." Jenn pushed her head down onto his cock one last time, then pulled out from under the blanket, disheveled, her mouth wet and dripping saliva, slightly out of breath, and looking crazed. "We're not wasting this," she whispered back as she climbed onto his lap, her dress bunched up around her waist, at the same time wrapping the blanket around both of their bodies and sinking her wet pussy onto his erect shaft. It felt to Daniel like slipping into a vat of molten wax, it was hot and slippery and felt so good. He groaned, put his hands on her hips as she started to ground them on his lap, pushing her down to produce some friction on her clit. "The card only talked about one act, I thought," he joked. "Screw the card. I'm so horny I can't think right now. So shut up and fuck me." He pushed his hips up in stead of a reply, and Jenn let herself go against him to better appreciate the feeling, trying to remain silent by muffling her gasp into Daniel's shoulder. As he fucked her -- or more accurately, as he let himself be fucked by the beautiful brunette -- Daniel sneaked a glance at Serena, who was still watching, with half-closed eyes and a hand underneath her borrowed shorts, and was frigging herself slowly. Daniel could see her hand move under the material, and could just picture Serena's long fingers playing with her clit and gliding along her outer lips. The image of the tall, beautiful black girl with her long naked legs spread wide and touching herself was unearthly. Jenn was pumping up and down on his cock with renewed energy, never noticing that they had a spectator. Daniel looked at her. Her eyes were closed, and she was biting her upper lip, whether to prevent herself from making too much noise or because she had lost control of her expression he did not know. He could see the thin film of sweat on her brow, the intensity in her face. She was beautiful. He loved her. Jenn must have sensed the look, because she opened her eyes and looked right at him, without speaking, just as she pulled herself off his cock in order to push herself down upon it even more forcefully. She was smiling. Daniel knew her enough to know that at that point she wanted to get fucked, thoroughly, hard, to get lost in the sensations of an orgasm being screwed out of her kicking and screaming. But there was no way to do that then, as they had to be careful. So she kept a lid on most of her feelings, and it had the predictable effect of making her even more frenzied and craving release. Daniel could see the conflict in her eyes, and reveled in it. This may have started out as Jenn playing with his fantasies as a matter of gently trying to convince him to follow her to Texas, despite her denials, but right then, she was into it with no ulterior motive, because it turned her on, because it made her hot, because it plugged into fantasies of her own. In her corner of the room, Serena had moved on, by all appearances, to finger fucking herself. Her hand stretched out Jenn's shorts, and rhythmically plunged in and out, the motion like a wave or a heartbeat under the material. Daniel could imagine that as well as he could her frigging earlier, her finger, or perhaps fingers, diving smoothly into her silken pussy, sucked in, pistoning in and out without resistance, hugged, squeezed, pulled in deep. Serena's eyes were alternatively open and closed, watching him and Jenn fucking before her and lost in some internal fantasy. Daniel wondered whether she was imagining herself on top of him, in place of Jenn. He realized that Jenn was fucking him pretty much like Serena had so many years ago, and the parallels forced a shiver through him. Or perhaps, and the thought came unbidden as he looked at Serena a few seconds longer, saw her lips parted and her tongue sneaking out, saw her eyes fixed on the back Jenn's head, perhaps she was imagining herself in place of Daniel, with Jenn straddling her, kissing her, rubbing against her. That image had way too much power behind it, he opined. He did not know if Serena had any bisexual tendencies -- although knowing his highly sexual friend he would not have been in the least bit surprised -- and Jenn had never expressed any interest aside from casual mentions in the throes of lovemaking. But the thought of his beautiful girlfriend and his equally beautiful friend together was almost more than he could bear, and of their volition his hips slammed up to meet Jenn's thrusts. Jenn noticed the increase in intensity and opened her eyes to look at him, and he returned the look, and in silence, eye to eye, his cock thrusting into her pussy harder and harder, the sounds of sex muffled by the surrounding blanket, they came -- Jenn first, biting her lips to keep from screaming, holding on to his shoulders as she tensed like a spring ready to snap before she was overcome by long bone-deep shudders that made her moan to the point that she had to plunge her head into Daniel's shoulder again, Daniel not far behind her, spurred by her pussy squeezing his cock, his eyes now on Serena, who was also reaching her own climax, her hand jerking harder and harder underneath the shorts and stretching the elastic band, her legs quivering with the buildup of tension, her mouth open, also trying to keep silent, and then going rigid, her hand pressing hard against her pussy, finger undoubtedly pushed deep inside her, her other hand on her wrist as if to keep it from sliding out, her mouth now open in an almost stereotypical O, as her body was raked by shudders that rivaled Jenn's, and at that point it was too much for Daniel who clenched hard, crunching on the couch, pushing hard into Jenn, knocking the breath out of the poor recovering girl, and came, hard, like a soda bottle shaken and abruptly opened, holding on to his girlfriend, spurting long streams of jizz deep inside her, as she held his head against her and caressed his hair. He could feel her smiling against the sides of his head. He was not sure if he was smiling or grimacing himself. He collapsed back against the couch, Jenn on top of him, as they both tried to catch their breath. On the television screen, Woody Harrelson was making a last stand against zombies in an amusement park. Daniel figured he had fallen asleep, because the next thing he was aware of was the movie end credits. He looked around. Jenn was cuddled up next to him, prim and proper again, if sporting a satisfied smile. Serena was composed at her end of the room, also looking satisfied. Radhu was sleeping still, stirring vaguely. Serena caught Daniel's eye, and she winked at him, a sweet smile on her lips. Jenn was the first to stand, stretching herself like a cat, whereupon Serena did the same. The movement woke Radhu, who looked around, seemingly lost. "Huh... what... did I fall asleep?" "Yup, buddy. About two hours ago." "Aw crap. Shouldn't have stayed up so late last night." His voice trailed off, his eyes glued on Serena's rear as she left the room. Daniel laughed inside, wondering how his friend would have reacted to seeing Serena pleasuring herself earlier. He'd have probably popped a few neurons, he thought. Poor boy. Perhaps one day. They talked for a bit, while Serena was changing back into her day clothes, and Jenn cleaned up the remains of their snacks. "Okay guys, I should get going," said Serena from near the entryway. "Thanks for the evening, as usual." "Hold on, Serena. I'm leaving with you," said Radhu. He still looked somewhat shell-shocked. "Wow, sorry about dispatching like I did tonight." "Don't worry about it," replied Daniel, clasping his friend on the shoulder. "Just good to have you around, you know." They made their way to the entrance of the apartment, where Serena was waiting for them, looking composed and professional once more, and where Jenn, looking sleepy, came to join them. She slid her arm around Daniel's waist. "All right, you two. Have a safe walk back. And we'll see you tomorrow." "Sure," said Serena, and she hugged Jenn. Daniel saw her whisper something in Jenn's ear. Jenn blushed almost immediately, turning redder than Daniel had ever seen her, and just as she was about to say something, Serena put a finger on her lips, shushing her. She then smiled, nodded to Daniel, and turned to leave. Radhu, looking very much like a man who had missed something interesting, gave Daniel a quizzical glance. Daniel shrugged his shoulders, and put his arm around Jenn, who was still faintly flushed. When the door closed behind their friends, Jenn turned to Daniel. "How much... how much did she see?" "Pretty much the whole thing, I'm afraid." "Why didn't you...?" "Tell you? Love, given how you were going, I wouldn't have been able to stop you even if I had wanted to. You were hot! And besides, I think Serena enjoyed it very much." Jenn looked into Daniel's eyes. "I'm not surprised. Ah well." She kissed him, softly, on the lips. "Why, what did she tell you?" Her kiss became more forceful. "I'll tell you later. Maybe. For now, though, how about you take me to the bedroom and fuck me properly? The itch is not quite gone yet." "And the thought of Serena watching you as you jumped me has nothing to do with this itch, does it?" Jenn never answered the question, and simply pulled Daniel with her to the bedroom.

<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/strict.dtd"> <html> <head> <!--ADULTSONLY--> <meta name="shs-author" content="Bulgroz The Third"> <meta name="shs-title" content="The Adjusters #10 Whatever Did Happen to Marjorie?"> <meta name="shs-keywords" content="MF, mc"> <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> <link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Domine' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="b3.css"> <title>The Adjusters #10 Whatever Did Happen to Marjorie?</title> </head> <body> <div class="text"> <p class="ct"><b>THE ADJUSTERS</b></p> <p class="ct"><br></p> <p class="ct"><b>10</b></p> <p class="ct"><b>Whatever Did Happen to Marjorie?</b></p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="cb">Daniel was early, and had elected to wait for Jenn at the restaurant bar, which was still empty. Nothing surprising there, since the restaurant was one of the small town’s very good—and very expensive—places that in the main catered to parents. This was where you brought your well-off parents when they came to visit. The restaurant was therefore exceedingly busy in early January, at the beginning of spring, and in late May, when visits were most common. The rest of the year, it was exceedingly quiet.</p> <p class="cb">And so it was tonight, in the first week of December. Because it was Saturday, Daniel was not actually alone in the restaurant, but there could not have been more than a dozen other people. The restaurant staff had had the insight of drawing thick burgundy drape across the dining room, cutting it in half and achieving a sense of intimacy.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel adjusted his tie and tugged on his jacket, not used to the feel of a suit. He felt vaguely ridiculous, like he was playing dress-up. The evening warranted some discomfort, however, first because of the importance of the conversation that would occur—it had been almost two months now that Jenn had told him about getting the Blumberry, and they both had had time to think and reflect about the future they wanted—and second because it had been too long since he and Jenn had gone out like grown-ups, as Serena liked to call it.</p> <p class="cb">Perhaps it was his thinking of their friend, via some cosmic synchronicity, but Daniel’s cell phone rang at that moment, and he saw Serena’s name flash on the screen. He answered.</p> <p class="cb">“Hey Serena, how goes it?”</p> <p class="cb">“Pretty great, actually.” He could hear traffic noises in the background. “That Snowman guy, the one that got in touch with Lake for drugs and that arranged for Marjorie to go see Lake—”</p> <p class="cb">“Yeah, I remember.”</p> <p class="cb">“Well, you may also remember that I called him earlier this week, saying that I was interested in hiring Marjorie—MD—for a gig, and he just called me back, and he said sure and to come to the Spirited Flesh, where MD is scheduled to dance tonight so I can have a look at her and we can discuss business. I’m headed there now. Do you want to come with?”</p> <p class="cb">“Sorry, can’t. I’m waiting for Jenn at Da Maurizio. We’re having this big dinner date...”</p> <p class="cb">“Oh, right, right. It’s tonight.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Can you call Radhu?”</p> <p class="cb">“He’s still too out of it to leave his dorm room. No, I guess I’ll go alone. It’s okay, I’ll keep you informed, all right? At least I got my pepper spray with me. You know, in case Mister Snowman gets fresh? And Daniel—good luck for tonight. Daniel? Are you still there?”</p> <p class="cb">He was, but only physically. His arm was still holding the phone, but it hung limply by his side. His eyes, and those of the whole male contingent in the restaurant, were riveted on the vision of pure loveliness that was currently strolling across the room towards him. It was Jenn, of course, resplendent in a dark red evening gown that hugged her body like a glove, baring just the merest hint of cleavage but exposing her shoulders and sleek arms, and below flaring slightly at the hips and continuing down to just below her knees. A scarf, nylons, and a pair of spike heels completed the picture. The click-clack of those heels on the floor grew louder in the sudden silence, and Daniel remained motionless at his girlfriend’s approach.</p> <p class="cb">“Your mouth is open,” she said, after stopping right in front of him. She seemed pleased with herself.</p> <p class="cb">“Huh...”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn reached up with a hand, and gently pushed on his chin, closing his mouth. “There, much better. You look less goofy now.”</p> <p class="cb">“Huh... right... I mean... wow. You look... wow...”</p> <p class="cb">She laughed. “That’s my native English speaker! Thank you. And may I say, you look quite dashing yourself. Shall we sit? And why are you holding your phone?”</p> <p class="cb">“What phone? Oh, right. Serena.” He lifted the phone to his ear, eyes not leaving Jenn’s. “Listen, I gotta go. Be careful, okay?”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn had gotten closer to Daniel, and her mouth was near the phone. “Bye Serena,” she tossed in.</p> <p class="cb">Serena laughed at the other end. “Okay, go, you two, and have fun. I’ll call you later.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn never gave Daniel time to answer, tilting her head a fraction to the right and give him a slow languorous lick on the lips, her eyes looking deep into his. Arousal shot through him like electricity.</p> <p class="cb">“I believe we have a seat waiting for us?” she said, after giving him several seconds to recover.</p> <p class="cb">He nodded, then shook his head as if to clear it. “Yes. We do. And I think that’s our waiter right there waiting for us.”</p> <p class="cb">A waiter was indeed waiting for them, and showed them to their table. He held the chair for Jenn, and took advantage of it to steal a surreptitious glance down her cleavage and, Daniel had the sneaking suspicion, would have happily stolen a look at her thighs had she pulled her dress up to sit. Daniel was in too jovial a mood to mind, and Jenn seemed her usual oblivious self.</p> <p class="cb">They ordered some wine, and the waiter left them to ponder the menu.</p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="ct">* * * </p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="cb">Meanwhile, Serena was coming within sight of the Spirited Flesh. She was alone. She had determined that she would be safe enough, banking on the fact that it was Saturday night and that the strip club would be full.</p> <p class="cb">The outside of the club had not changed since the last time she was there with Daniel and Radhu, when they had come here upon learning that Marjorie would be on stage, almost two months ago. A group of young men were mingling about, leaning against the wall of the building and smoking and ogling every girl that walked by. They spotted Serena immediately, and hooted when they saw her headed for the club’s door. Serena gave them a look that only seemed to egg them on.</p> <p class="cb">“Hey there, pretty lady! You gonna dance tonight? Wouldn’t mind seeing those bags of yours bounce around! Perhaps you and I can meet in the back and I can show you what a white dick can do?” The man grabbed his crotch while his buddies laughing drunkenly.</p> <p class="cb">Serena elected for simply arching an eyebrow, and opened the door to the club. The bouncer looked at her, giving her the once over, then let her in after taking her money.</p> <p class="cb">Inside, everything was as she remembered it, albeit more crowded. Few seats were available—but Serena had no interest in sitting down anyways. On stage, a couple of blonde dancers with large artificial breasts were kissing, hands rubbing each other’s almost naked bodies. Half the patrons were watching the show, the others busy chatting or negotiating for lap dances. The evening was still early.</p> <p class="cb">Serena flagged the man working the bar.</p> <p class="cb">“You have anyone around named Snowman?”</p> <p class="cb">The barman gave her a distracted look. “Not that I know of.”</p> <p class="cb">“You sure? Serena’s asking. Snowman must have mentioned he was expecting me.”</p> <p class="cb">The barman looked at her for five long seconds. “Snowman told me to tell you to meet him in the back. Room nine.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena turned to the back of the club. “And how do I...?”</p> <p class="cb">The barman pointed to a pair of red doors. He signaled to a large man standing beside them, then pointed to Serena. The large man nodded once. </p> <p class="cb">“Thanks,” said Serena.</p> <p class="cb">She was excited, the thought of confronting someone that at least could give her some concrete information about Marjorie, perhaps even where to find the poor girl, made her heart race. Calm down, girl, she told herself—he may not even want to talk to you. She had no plan to speak of. Too many unknowns. But Snowman was a man, and unless he was gay, that gave her a slight advantage. She unfastened a few buttons of her shirt, and pressed her breasts upwards to produce more cleavage. She did not particularly relish the thought of having to seduce him, but she really had nothing else with which to exert leverage. They said all was fair in love and war—that went double for journalism and searching for friends.</p> <p class="cb">The man guarding the double doors let her through, after staring her down and letting his eyes slide down to her chest, following the swell of her breasts. Serena did not rise to the bait—her goal was Snowman, and she would not let herself get distracted. She stepped through the doors.</p> <p class="cb">The noise from the club immediately dropped to a background buzz. She was in a carpeted hallway leading to a T-junction perhaps a hundred feet ahead. It reminded her of a generic hotel floor, with doors down the corridor, every one of them closed and numbered. As she walked down looking for room nine, a couple emerged from one of the rooms, the man looking like a used-cars salesman complete with rumpled suit and questionable tie, and the girl hanging on his arm—either a stripper here at the club or a date with atrocious fashion sense—wearing a bikini and platform plastic heels, blonde hair straight out of a bottle. She looked tired.</p> <p class="cb">When they crossed her path, heading for the door, Serena nodded to the girl, who dismissed Serena with a defiant glance. Serena was surprised by the reaction, and then she asked herself how she would have reacted had the roles been reversed. Had the girl read pity in Serena’s eyes? She decided on the spot to pitch a story about the strippers here at the club to her editor. That should get the guy’s interest.</p> <p class="cb">She felt the man’s eyes on her backside after passing the couple, and shook her head. She’d need a good shower after this, she thought. One figured that after spending all of one’s time with horny college students one would get inured to such treatment, but for all their crassness, the college students she hung out with tended to inject a sense of levity and fun in their sexism and machismo, something utterly missing from this environment. Here, despite the fancy surroundings and the upbeat music and the bright colors, despair and hopelessness clung to everything.</p> <p class="cb">She slid a hand in her purse when she reached the door marked nine, and kept it on her pepper spray bottle. She knocked then opened the door.</p> <p class="cb">The small room was poorly lit, and held only a cushioned chair in its center, obviously intended for private lap dances. Serena had almost expected a cot in the corner for quickies. Then again, the carpeting was thick enough that it probably served as a reasonable alternative.</p> <p class="cb">There was a young man sitting in the chair, about eighteen years of age, with short hair and a good physique. He kept tapping his foot and looking around nervously. He trained his eyes on her as soon as she entered the room. “Serena?”</p> <p class="cb">“Who’s asking?” She remained by the door, looking around.</p> <p class="cb">“Come in. We may need some privacy for this.”</p> <p class="cb">“We’ll see. You Snowman?”</p> <p class="cb">He nodded. He still looked nervous. “I am. You’re here about MD, right? You asked about her availability?”</p> <p class="cb">Serena stepped into the room. Finally, some answers. “I am. I’m looking for entertainment for a party, and I’ve heard she’s very very good. You... I’m sorry—you just weren’t who I was expecting.” Snowman had sounded older on the phone.</p> <p class="cb">“Well, there’s a reason for that. I’m not really him.”</p> <p class="cb">Before Serena could react, a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind, pinning her own arms down. By reflex, she kicked back with her foot and the heel of her boot sank into a shin, and she was rewarded with a scream of pain from the man behind her. She bolted as soon as she felt the arms letting her go, and was at the door before the young man in the chair had time to move. The door was locked. Before she could turn around, she was grabbed again, and a wet cloth was pressed against her face. She tried to shout, but the pungent smell made the world spin once, then twice, and then everything went dark.</p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="ct">* * * </p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="cb">“So here we are,” said Jenn. They had finished their meal, and had ordered desert. By some unspoken understanding, they both recognized it was time to talk.</p> <p class="cb">“Here we are indeed,” replied Daniel. He cleared his throat. “I’ll start. First off, let me just say that the last two months has been utterly mind-bogglingly fantastic. If your plan was to hook me more deeply, it worked like a charm. If the last weeks are a preview of what life is going to be like, then I’d be a moron to pass it up. And that’s even if I weren’t crazy in love with you.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn grinned, and sipped her wine. Daniel continued.</p> <p class="cb">“And that’s the point, really. Everything else is academic. I love you, Jennifer Hansen, and I can’t bear the thought of being away from you. And I know that the Blumberry is like a dream coming true, and I don’t want to be the reason that you don’t get a shot at that dream. So I say: onto Austin.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn shook her head. “I love you too, my sweet little romantic. And I also want to see you happy, and if passing up on the scholarship and staying on the East Coast is what it takes, I’ll happily do it with no second thought. On the plus side, it would give me a chance to write that Great American Novel. I’m already accumulating a few ideas. By the way, can the Great American Novel be erotica?”</p> <p class="cb">“All right, then. So we’re pretty much where we were a month ago. Great. It’s a good thing I got this job offer from this place spitting distance from Austin then, to do the kind of thing I want to try doing. That’ll save us some painful back and forth.”</p> <p class="cb">“What?”</p> <p class="cb">It was Daniel’s turn to grin. “I had a phone interview with them last week, and they want to fly me down after Christmas for a more in-depth chat, but they said the job is mine if I want it. I figure we could make it a joint trip and go visit UT Austin at the same time.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn was staring at him wide eyed. “Okay—details, lover, details!” </p> <p class="cb">And he gave her the rundown of the Advanced American Institute for Democracy, what he had learned, the work for democratization and increased access to resources and facilities and the work in minority communities to train them and teach them and get them to participate in the civic process. Daniel had warmed up to this more hands-on approach to practical politics, almost activism, a far cry from the more theoretical work he had been focussing on at the university. He felt the change would do him good.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn remained silent when he had finished, looking at her glass of wine, lost in thought. Then she looked back up at him. “It’s perfect, then. Everything is falling into place. Wow.”</p> <p class="cb">“You sound like you weren’t sure it would?”</p> <p class="cb">She shrugged. “Crossroads are funny. Never can tell what’s going to happen when you get to one. I was serious, you know—I would have given it up to stay with you.”</p> <p class="cb">His tone of voice matched hers when he replied. “Which is what made it that much easier to decide. I would have too. You’re worth any sacrifice.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn grinned, stood up, and went around the table. She leaned down towards him. “You so know how to talk to girls.” She pressed her lips to his, and the soft kiss turned into a long soulful one that made Daniel completely forget he was seated in a rather classy restaurant.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn ran a finger down his face, a playful gleam in her eyes. “I’ll be right back, lover.” She turned around and walked away.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel’s gaze followed he swaying form, and he admired the way her dress clung to her body like a sheath. She was perfect, and she was his. Or he was hers. An older lady at a nearby table gave him a look, and he shrugged sheepishly at her by way of apology for their display of affection, not feeling sorry for one second.</p> <p class="cb">He took out his cell phone, and sent Serena a quick text message asking if everything was okay. She did not answer. Probably deep in investigative mode, he figured. He hoped she was successful with her meeting. She had been quite upset by what Daniel had told her happened to Marjorie at the NADA thing, when she collapsed screaming in pain for no visible reason. Serena was worried something really bad had happened, and it was eating her up.</p> <p class="cb">He looked up from his phone when he heard the tell-tale sound his girlfriend’s heel. Jenn sat back down at their table.</p> <p class="cb">“Here, this is for you.” She extended a hand, waiting for him to extend his. He did, and she handed him a wad of red material. He looked at it, not understanding, and Jenn’s Cheshire-cat smile did not afford him any clue. When he unfolded it, he blushed as he immediately recognized it for what it was—a shockingly sheer red thong. He pocketed it quickly, and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. The old lady from earlier was looking at them with a disapproving frown on her face. The older man accompanying her was looking at Jenn with wonder.</p> <p class="cb">“What the hell are you doing?” whispered Daniel.</p> <p class="cb">“You can be such a prude sometimes!” Jenn’s smile grew wider. “Life right now is perfect. Everything’s perfect. And you know me—when I’m happy, I get horny. You don’t mind it when I’m horny, do you?”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel swallowed, thinking about his girlfriend naked underneath her dress, and was taken with the sudden urge to stand on his chair and loudly announce that he loved this girl.</p> <p class="cb">“Besides, I think I behaved very well. I did give them to you, after all. I toyed with the idea of just laying them on the table, you know, so that the waiter would see them, and perhaps start fantasizing about me.”</p> <p class="cb">Speaking of the devil, the waiter arrived just then, carrying a bottle of champagne. Jenn looked up in surprise. “What’s this?”</p> <p class="cb">“Something to celebrate with.”</p> <p class="cb">The waiter popped open the bottle, and poured them two glasses. Jenn took hers, Daniel his. “To the Blumberry,” he said.</p> <p class="cb">“To the Institute for Democracy,” she replied.</p> <p class="cb">“To the most wonderful girl in the world.”</p> <p class="cb">“To the most charming man in the universe.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel took a deep breath. “I think it’s only fair that I give you something in exchange for what you gave me a few minutes ago...”</p> <p class="cb">“Huh, I don’t think we girls have quite the same underwear fetish you guys do, lover.”</p> <p class="cb">“Then it’s a good thing it isn’t what I had in mind...” He gently set a small box down on the table before her, and opened it. “Miss Jennifer Hansen, will you marry me?”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, her eyes wide. She stared at the ring nestled inside the box for a long time, then up at Daniel, who despite all of his blustering was nervous.</p> <p class="cb">She looked up at him, softness in her eyes. “Of course I will.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel let out a breath he was not aware he had been holding. He grinned madly. She grinned right back, and before long they were both giggling like teenagers in love. </p> <p class="cb">She took out the ring from the book, and slipped it on. “It’s beautiful,” she said. </p> <p class="cb">“I did have some help in making the final choice.”</p> <p class="cb">“Serena?”</p> <p class="cb">“Who else?”</p> <p class="cb">“Wait... she helped you choose? It’s not what I would have expected her to go for.”</p> <p class="cb">“Indeed. I had three choices down, and I went for the one she liked the least, the one with the simplest design. If it had been up to her, you’d have ended up with a huge rock that probably would have messed up your balance.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn’s smile slowly turned into a frown.</p> <p class="cb">“What’s wrong?”</p> <p class="cb">“Well, I gave you something, and then you gave me something in return, but I feel I got the most out of the exchange. Hardly seems fair.”</p> <p class="cb">“I wouldn’t quite put it that way, to be honest.”</p> <p class="cb">“No, no, no. This partnership should start on an equitable footing.”</p> <p class="cb">“What do you suggest?”</p> <p class="cb">“That we take care of the bill, and we go find somewhere quiet where I can show you in exquisite detail how much I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you, Mister Malcolm. I mean, I already took care of removing one particular... obstacle...”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel motioned for the check.</p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="ct">* * * </p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="cb">When Serena came to, it took her a while to realize that what she was seeing an old wooden ceiling. She could feel straps on her body holding her down, but they were overkill. She could not move. Her limbs simply did not obey her commands. Except for her head, that she could move, though doing so made her dizzy. What happened? The last thing she could remember was being at the Spirited Flesh—Snowman!</p> <p class="cb">“Ah, Miss Banks. Welcome back.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena turned her head in the direction from which the voice had come. The speaker, a man perhaps in his late thirties, black hair, wearing a white lab coat, was sitting on a stool before a computer console lost on a desk amidst electronic equipment, notes, and what looked like home chemistry sets. The man looked familiar.</p> <p class="cb">“I’m sorry about the rather heavy-handed way my friends treated you back at the club. They can be rather juvenile at times. Nevertheless, you wanted to talk to me?”</p> <p class="cb">She finally recognized him. He was wearing a lab coat instead of a suit, but this was the man they saw with Marjorie in the back alley of the strip club a month ago.</p> <p class="cb">“You’re... Snowman?” Speaking was difficult.</p> <p class="cb">“The same,” the man replied. “Although you can call me Cargyle. Doctor Cargyle. Snowman was a bit of a joke carried too far too long. How are you feeling?”</p> <p class="cb">The doctor stood and walked to Serena, putting two fingers on her neck as if checking her pulse, a rather redundant gesture since she seemed to be hooked up to a beeping monitor displaying all her vital signs.</p> <p class="cb">“Where’s... where’s Marjorie?”</p> <p class="cb">The doctor looked at Serena silently for several seconds. “Yes, this is what brought you here, isn’t it? Your quest to find your friend?” He shook his head. “I told those kids it was a bad idea to keep her activated her for such long periods of time. Besides the risk of psychotic breakdown, I was worried someone would notice when she disappeared for long periods of time. Like you did. But does anyone listen to the doctor? No, of course not. They all like the doctor and especially all the goodies he brings to the party and they are willing to welcome him to the ranks, but listen to him? Blasphemy—can’t have that.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena had no idea what the doctor was going on about. But the more he talked, the more chance she had of learning something useful, and it bought her extra time. She was clearly in some sort of laboratory, as suggested by all the equipment, both computerized and medical, although not a very advanced one. It looked as if it had been set up in a basement. In fact, the walls were stone, indicating a cellar. Ever the journalist, she tried to observe and remember as many details as she could so as to be able to later reconstruct where she had been.</p> <p class="cb">Her endeavors were almost forgotten when she saw who was lying down in a gurney a few feet from her. Marjorie! The photographer looked asleep, except that her eyes were open and staring up at the ceiling, utterly expressionless.</p> <p class="cb">“Marjorie! Hey Marge. It’s me, Serena! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Marge! You okay? Marge? Fuck, what have you done to her, you bastard?” She still could not move anything but her head, so she settled for following Snowman—Doctor Cargyle—with eyes spitting venom as he circled her and approached the unresponsive Marjorie.</p> <p class="cb">“Yes, well,” said the doctor, after running a finger down Marjorie’s face, who did not react to the touch. “I guess you did find your friend after all, Miss Banks. I have to congratulate you on your perseverance. As to what happened to her, to be honest, I am not entirely sure. If you allow me to be glib, then I would say that most of her brain is fried. Utterly and irremediably fried.” He shook his head. “I told you, they don’t listen to me. I warned them that the programming I give the girls is crude—I mean, look at this equipment, it’s practically prehistoric—and becomes unstable when a girl is kept activated for too long. Marjorie was my latest experiment in making the programming more stable, by using a slightly different technique to imprint behavior changes on a more permanent basis, but she was still not ready. They wanted someone that they could not only enjoy for themselves but also send out to parties and other events and provide the frat with some money, or status, or something. Who knows? So they put her up to it. I tried to stay with her and keep an eye on her, but to no avail. Now, her programming is pretty much all she has left.”</p> <p class="cb">“Programming? Girls? Oh my God—the DIK girls! You’ve hypnotized them!”</p> <p class="cb">Doctor Cargyle looked at her with a mix of admiration and disdain. “DIK girls! What a stupid term. But what else can we expect from frat boys that can’t be bothered to change their underwear? I’m impressed you figured out that much, Miss Banks. But I have to correct you on one point. It’s not hypnosis. It’s a mixture of drugs, direct neural stimulation, and sensory programming. Somewhat artisanal, given my setup, and I guess to a layman the effects might look the same as hypnosis.”</p> <p class="cb">“So you just take girls and what? Turn them into whores?”</p> <p class="cb">Doctor Cargyle looked pained. “No, Miss Banks, that’s not the idea. I’m not turning them into anything. I’m simply continuing my research into psychoneurology, trying to crack the code of the brain. The potential benefit for mankind is incalculable: senility, Alzheimer’s, schizophrenia, crippling anxiety, all could be a thing of the past. But I ran into some... huh... problems with former employers of mine, and the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity was kind enough to provide me a sanctuary to let me keep a low profile while my troubles blew over. As a small token of gratitude for their kindness, I agreed to provide them with... well, you know.”</p> <p class="cb">“The DIK girls are programmed to be whores for the frat boys. How nice. And thus, the bracelets...”</p> <p class="cb">Doctor Cargyle nodded. “Yes, the bracelets.” He looked over at a box on the corner of the desk, which contained a large supply of silver charms. “They serve as an anchor for the programming—crude, but effective. And those girls are but a small price to pay to further science. Besides, they are unaware of the programming they have been subjected to, don’t remember the time spent while activated, and are generally unharmed by their experiences.”</p> <p class="cb">“Except Marjorie.”</p> <p class="cb">The doctor frowned. “Yes, except Marjorie.”</p> <p class="cb">He looked down at Marjorie, who was still staring off into space, completely unaware of anything going on around her. A faraway look of his own on his face, Doctor Cargyle ran a finger over her lips, then inserted the tip between them. Instantly, Marjorie closed her eyes and started his finger into her mouth, in a clear mimicry of a perfectly executed blow job, thrusting her head up to meet the unmoving finger, twirling her tongue around the tip and on the underside of the invading digit as it went in. Her hips were moving in time with her sucking, and she moaned softly. When the doctor pulled his finger out, her tongue trailed after it, and a whine of frustration escaped the girl. Then she went back to her catatonic state.</p> <p class="cb">“A shame, really,” continued the doctor, wiping his finger on his lab coat, “she was such a wonderful research subject. And imaginative, too. You see, programming someone is an art. You don’t want a robot. Well, some folks do want robots. But for best effect, you want someone that can take elements of their own personality and wrap them around their programming, so that the programming is enhanced—magnified by whatever personality traits are in the subject. It’s really beautiful how it works. In Marjorie here, it was almost a perfect combination. She took to sex like a fish to water. Did you know she had slept with only two men before the fraternity got its hands on her? You can say we opened her eyes to the world out there. Of course, now, she is no longer in any kind of state to appreciate it, except at the most primitive level. Such a shame.”</p> <p class="cb">Doctor Cargyle moved a hand to Marjorie’s legs and slipped it under the short grey dress she had on. She did not react, nor show any emotion until he touched her crotch, or so Serena surmised. She saw Marjorie throw her head back against the gurney, arch her spine, and spread her legs while pulling up her knees. She thrust her hips forward, and a moan escape her as the doctor worked his hand rhythmically. He was finger fucking her, that was pretty clear, and she was enjoying every second of it, that was equally clear. Her moans grew gradually more intense, her trashing wilder, her pelvic thrusts more violent, until her mouth locked into an O of surprise and she tensed up like an elastic band about to snap before letting out a wail as a massive orgasm hit her and caused her to shiver uncontrollably until finally she collapsed back onto the gurney, eyes closed, a serene smile on her face. The doctor pulled his hand out from under her dress, and he again wiped his wet fingers on his lab coat.</p> <p class="cb">“Amazing how responsive she still is, no? She’s essentially catatonic until she’s touched in a sexual way, and then she goes into the automatic part of her programming. I am not sure exactly the mechanisms at play here—by all accounts, even her programming should be disabled. And yet...” He sighed. “If only I had more time with her, I might be able to learn from this event. Alas, it has been decided that we must get rid of her.”</p> <p class="cb">The doctor looked genuinely sad, but Serena was certain it was not because of the ruined life lying before him, but rather his ruined experiment. She was angry, and not a little bit scared. “What are you going to do, kill her?”</p> <p class="cb">The doctor reacted as if he had been slapped. “Dear Lord, no! What do you think I am? A murderer? No, the fraternity has arranged to have her transported to a facility where she will still be useful, even in her degenerate condition. Her only skill right now is sexual satisfaction, and she’s been sold to a group in East Asia that will employ her in a sexual-services facility that caters to more, shall we say, extreme tastes than normal.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena was aghast. “You’ve sold her into slavery? That’s... you’re a monster!”</p> <p class="cb">“She will be useful, and have a purpose. Other than that, she’s completely brain dead. At least, this way, she gets to give pleasure, and as you saw, receive it.”</p> <p class="cb">The man was insane, Serena realized. She willed her body to struggle against her bonds, with no effect. When she looked up at the doctor, he was filling a syringe carefully.</p> <p class="cb">“What are you going to do to me?”</p> <p class="cb">The doctor flipped the syringe and flicked the needle with a finger to remove any air bubble. “Well, Miss Banks, you must admit that you have been something of a pain lately, and you have uncovered more about my presence here than I find comfortable. Granted, I do have a tendency to talk too much. Now, since I need a new subject for my research, seeing as my former subject is now out of service, you will fill that role nicely. I have been meaning to experiment with selective memory alteration anyways, so we can ensure that you will not remember what has transpired tonight, or whatever happened to your friend Marjorie. And if we can convince the frat brothers to treat you well, you should not suffer from the adverse effects that Marjorie here has.”</p> <p class="cb">He glanced at Marjorie, still motionless on her gurney, then turned to Serena. “You are a beautiful woman, Miss Banks, and the brothers here will be more than happy to have you are around as their new girl.”</p> <p class="cb">The doctor tied an elastic band high on Serena’s arm, then set the needle of the syringe against the skin in the crook of her elbow. Before she could fully comprehend what the doctor had in store for her, a wave of dizziness engulfed her, and in the last few minutes before the darkness claimed her for the second time in just a few hours, she felt the doctor snapping a bracelet on her wrist and welding it shut.</p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="ct">* * * </p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="cb">Daniel barely had time to unlock the door to their place before Jenn attacked him. Her kisses were feverish, and she pushed his back against the wall so she could press her body against his. He could taste the champagne on her breath—they had brought the bottle with them from the restaurant and very nearly finished it on the cab ride back.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn ran her hands on the sides of Daniel’s body, pulling his shirt out of his trousers to reach his skin. Her tongue was deep in Daniel’s mouth, exploring, tasting, seeking his to fence with. He pulled her against him, and she responded by thrusting her pelvis at him. His hands ran down her back and pulled up her dress enough to be able to palm the top of one thigh and a cheek, amazed as usual by the softness of her skin. Jenn moaned in his mouth at the touch, then pulled out of the embrace just enough to unbutton his shirt.</p> <p class="cb">Foreseeing that the entryway would not be the most comfortable place to continue this, he hedged towards the living room, Jenn following him with a slight whine as if to ask where he was going. </p> <p class="cb">In the cab over, they had not talked, only drunk from the champagne bottle and made out. Daniel had seen the cab driver, an older taciturn man, look at them through his rearview mirror after surreptitiously adjusting it to get a better view. Daniel had tried to say something to Jenn while she had been lavishly kissing his neck, and all he had gotten out of her was a shrug, and she had moved to straddle his lap after pulling the skirt of her dress up, presumably giving the driver a perfect money shot of her behind. Daniel had thought “what the hell” and had surrendered himself to the heady feeling of his girlfriend—his beautiful, loving, sexy girlfriend, now fiancée—wiggling on top of his now raging erection. His hands had rested on her thighs, as her moans had suggested that was where his hands ought to be.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel had almost put a stop to it when Jenn had playfully reached back and pulled down the zipper of her dress and bared her chest. No bra, he had noted—the bustier of the dress must have played double bill there—and her nipples had been bright red and hard, clamoring for attention, attention that he had been more than ready to provide. He had dived in, sucking on them with the intensity of a starving baby, in just the way he knew Jenn enjoyed, and he had been rewarded by her tossing her head back, her hair spilling out of her clips, and letting out a lust-filled groan that reverberated in the cab. The driver, who had been undoubtedly enraptured by watching the sexy brunette overcome by her emotions, had had to jerk hard on the steering wheel to avoid driving into a pole. Thankfully, they had been close to home by then, and Jenn had just had enough time to rearrange her top and pull down her skirt before the cab stopped by the curb in front of their place. Daniel had paid the cab driver, barely able to meet the man’s eyes, while the latter was telling him he was a lucky boy. Jenn had lingered by the side of the cab, talking to the driver through his door window, while Daniel had climbed the stairs to unlock the front door. He had heard her crystal laughter ringing in the quiet night air before she ran up the stairs to meet him and kiss him so hard their lips would be bruised the next day.</p> <p class="cb">And now they were in the living room and Jenn had pushed Daniel down to the floor and had unzipped her dress again and had let it fall and pool at her feet, and she stood above him like every man’s wet dream, naked but for a pair of thigh-highs and red spike heels, long hair wild after having been trapped in her clips for the better part of the evening. She posed for a few seconds, smiling at Daniel adoring look, then she pounced, kneeling on his legs, pulling on his still unfastened trousers and boxer shorts, and exposing his hard shaft. She cooed at it while wrapping her hand around it, and slowly rubbed her hand up and down a few times, as if she was judging its heft. She seemed satisfied because very soon she scooted up and straddled his hips, the head of his cock lined up right against her pussy lips. She kissed him again, a slow burning kiss that seemed to suck his soul out of his lungs, and in that momentary distraction Jenn managed to reach down and push his cock inside her, and Daniel cried out when he felt an almost intolerable heat cradling his sensitive organ. Jenn merely grinned and kissed him harder, rocking her hips back and forth in a slow fucking motion that was more tease than anything else.</p> <p class="cb">She straightened up, tossed her hair back, and in slow but forceful strokes fucked herself on his jutting cock. His hands moved up to cup her breasts, and her hands joined his and pressed hard, massaging her breasts roughly. She looked down at him, and smiled a naughty smile.</p> <p class="cb">“You think that cab driver would have liked to see us like this? He did look like a bit of a perv, didn’t he? Staring at us like that?”</p> <p class="cb">So she had known the driver had been looking at them, thought Daniel. “Love, any man that goes for girls would have been turned on by you and would have given a ball and a half to see you naked like this, and his remaining half-ball to fuck you like this.”</p> <p class="cb">She laughed, and rocked harder on his cock. “It turned me on to feel his eyes on me, you know? I could just feel them on my back, when I unzipped my dress, and on my ass when I pulled my skirt up. I wanted to turn around and push my boobs up and go ‘tada!’ just to see him drool over them. Does that make me a bad girl?”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel thrust his hips up to go against her own pushes, achieving a deep penetration that made Jenn moan. “You have a perfect body, love. Makes sense that you want to show it off...” He was happy to go along with her fantasy.</p> <p class="cb">“Perhaps he would have stopped the cab,” she continued, her eyes into Daniel’s, “and turned around and touched them—my boobs. I would have let him, you know, would have liked to feel that stranger’s hands on them, squeezing them, twisting my nipples, with you next to me, watching, perhaps rubbing your hands on my thigh, up to my dripping wet pussy. With you next to me, my perfect lover, my knight.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel moved his hands down to her sides to pull her down on him forcefully, and she gasped, her hips jerking out of control for a second.</p> <p class="cb">“Fuck, that felt so good! Fuck me hard! Fuck, I’d have given him a good show, too—I’d have leaned back in the seat, spread my legs wide and played with my pussy, rubbing and pinching before thrusting one then two then more fingers inside. With both of you watching, getting hard, both of you wanting to take me, to fuck me, you, the perfect lover and love of my life, and him, the stranger, the old pervert, who probably fantasizes every night about all the young sluts that take his cab and that never offer him anything in return.”</p> <p class="cb">She leaned over Daniel and lowered her voice. “Perhaps I should have paid for all those girls that turn him on day in day out, and let him fuck me? Do you think he might have enjoyed that, to sink his cock into this tight pussy of mine? I mean, he certainly seemed interested earlier, when you were unlocking the door and I tipped him by giving him my thong.”</p> <p class="cb">That stopped Daniel in his tracks. “You did what?”</p> <p class="cb">“I slipped it out of your jacket in the cab, and gave it to him. You should have seen his face too—he got all red, I thought he’d pop a brain vessel. You know he’s probably jerking off into my panties right now, rubbing them over his cock, imagining it’s me all around it, squeezing it and milking it, his sexy passenger with the tight dress making out with her fiancée in the back of his cab.”</p> <p class="cb">Somehow the image was too much for Daniel, who took hold of Jenn before flipping her onto her back and thrusting himself between her legs. She moaned and laughed at the same time, spreading her legs wide to offer him better access and pulling him to her, kissing him once he had sheathed himself fully once more.</p> <p class="cb">“Fuck yes,” she groaned as he pulled out and thrust in again, the sound of their skin slapping together loud in the empty apartment. “Come on, fuck me—just like that cabbie wanted to—hard, so hard. Fuck me!”</p> <p class="cb">She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he was driven wild by the feel of her nylons against his hips. He put his hands on the ground on either side of her head for leverage, and drove into her at a frenetic pace. He vaguely noticed when she clenched and went rigid as an orgasm ripped through her, and kept fucking her madly, thrusting into her so hard that he was pushing them both across the floor. He shouted when he came, thrusting deep into his girlfriend, while she gently ran her hands over his back, soothing him as he emptied himself inside her. He collapsed in a heap next to her, and they lay on the floor, spent.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel eventually broke the silence. “And here we are,” he sighed, “on the floor again.”</p> <p class="cb">“It is a particularly comfy carpet.”</p> <p class="cb">“We’ll have to make sure we get one like this when we get our house.”</p> <p class="cb">“Listen to you, Mister Domestic.”</p> <p class="cb">“It’d be nice, no? Having our own place?”</p> <p class="cb">She was silent after that. “You know how sometimes your life seems to change very fast in a short period of time. That last month was like that for me. Lots happened.”</p> <p class="cb">He pushed up on one elbow to look at her. She was staring at the ceiling, hands behind her head. “Too much?”</p> <p class="cb">She looked back at him. “No. Just enough.”</p> <p class="cb">They kissed.</p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="ct">* * * </p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="cb">Doctor Cargyle was at the computer when Serena came out of her drug-induced unconsciousness. Her programming—her adjustment, as his old employers had called it—had gone without a hitch, like most of the girls he had supplied to the fraternity. The only question mark was the modifications he had made to support the memory alterations, a variation from what he had used on Marjorie Duquesne. </p> <p class="cb">Serena’s stirring brought him out of his reverie. He went to her side, glancing at the monitor that summarized her vital signs. He looked at the silver charms bracelet on her wrist. He had disliked the bracelets at first—they were a constant reminder of how backwards was the technology he had to work with here—but they had grown on him. They were a testimony to the fact that no matter what happened, he had the wits to survive. Every bracelet he put on a girl was an assertion of his resourcefulness and wherewithal.</p> <p class="cb">“What happened? Daniel?...” Serena was disoriented, a common side-effect of the drug cocktail necessary to facilitate the programming. </p> <p class="cb">“Miss Banks? Serena?” Doctor Cargyle leaned down and gently turned her head towards him. Her eyes had some difficulty focussing. He said the code words that the frat—those stupid kids—had elected to use as their trigger: “I am your DIK brother.” Her eyes immediately flashed to his left hand, where he sported the fraternity ring that the president had given him, and her body stiffened momentarily before relaxing once more.</p> <p class="cb">He noted that reactions with clinical detachment. The core programming seemed to have taken. Of course, he had ways of accessing the programming of his subjects in different ways that did not necessitate the ring, but this ensured that she responded to the trigger that would be most commonly used. The doctor then ran Serena through his usual post-programming tests, to which Serena submitted without complaints, never losing her calm neutral expression.</p> <p class="cb">So busy was he with his test suite that he almost missed the two fraternity brothers at the laboratory door. “Hey Doc. Sorry to disturb, but we’re here to take care of the retard. The truck’s arrived. She’s supposed to be on that freighter in a couple of hours. She ready?”</p> <p class="cb">Without even looking, the doctor acquiesced, and pointed to Marjorie still lying in her gurney, now strapped in. “Yes, yes. There she is. Be careful with her, please.”</p> <p class="cb">“Of course.” They were setting themselves up to grab the gurney when one of the brothers glanced at Serena. “Hey, is this a new girl? Man, she’s a real looker that one. Love the chocolate skin. And check out those lips!”</p> <p class="cb">“Forget the lips—look at that rack on her! When’s she gonna be available, Doc?”</p> <p class="cb">“The usual, give it a few days. I have more tests to run with this one. She’s special.”</p> <p class="cb">“She’s special all right. Fuck, can’t wait to have her begging to suck my cock!” He laughed, and he and his friend lifted the gurney with Marjorie and made for the door.</p> <p class="cb">“You may want to say goodbye to your friend Marjorie now, Serena. I doubt you will see her again, and if you do, well, I fear neither of you will have the mental presence to even realize it.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena turned her head slowly towards her friend. “Goodbye, Marjorie.” Her voice was pleasant, relaxed. She then turned her attention back towards the doctor, who was continuing his monologue. “Okay then. The basic routines seem to have been implanted correctly. Step two, we test the basic programming to make sure you are in position to please your new frat brothers out there—you heard the kids, you’re going to be quite a hit—then we make sure your medium and short-term memory have been suitably adjusted—wouldn’t want you to remember all that you learned about us, or even that something funny has happened to Miss Duquesne, do we? No, as far as you’re concerned, Marjorie told you she had suffered a nervous breakdown and was going back to spend some time at a private institution to rest, and you will have no more compulsion to investigate. How does that sound to you, Serena?”</p> <p class="cb">Serena blinked, and offered a small smile. “Whatever pleases you, Sir.”</p> <p class="cb">The doctor nodded, then went to lock the laboratory door. He was unfastening his trousers when he came back. “Well, then, let’s start. First off, oral skills. Let’s see how much you know about giving head, Serena. As the kid said, you do have some particularly fetching lips.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena’s smile became wolfish as she watched the doctor strip. “With pleasure, Sir.”</p> </div> <p class="cd">Posted: <i>October 11, 2010</i></p> <p class="cd">Edited: <i>March 24, 2011</i></p> </body> </html>

<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/strict.dtd"> <html> <head> <!--ADULTSONLY--> <meta name="shs-author" content="Bulgroz The Third"> <meta name="shs-title" content="The Adjusters #4 A Game of Control"> <meta name="shs-keywords" content="MF, mc"> <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> <link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Domine' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="b3.css"> <title>The Adjusters #4 A Game of Control</title> </head> <body> <div class="text"> <p class="ct"><b>THE ADJUSTERS</b></p> <p class="ct"><br></p> <p class="ct"><b>4</b></p> <p class="ct"><b>A Game of Control</b></p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="cb">“So what did I miss last night?” asked Jenn.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel watched her spread jam on her toast, a process that seemed to require much attention. She had never been a morning person and could barely function without ingesting dangerous amounts of caffeine. She liked to tease him by telling people that he could get up early, get right to work, plow through the day, then stay up late without appearing the worse for wear, the bastard, but he knew that underneath the gibe was real envy. He usually grinned apologetically in response.</p> <p class="cb">“Nothing much. Serena, Radhu, and I ended up at the Spirited Flesh.”</p> <p class="cb">That got Jenn’s attention. She looked up in surprise. “The strip club? That’s a rather unusual destination for you guys.”</p> <p class="cb">“Too cold last night to go trolling for whores, so we figured we’d stay inside and catch some titties. You know, given that my girlfriend dresses like a conservative Amish grandmother.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn lifted an eyebrow, and glanced down at the short camisole she usually wore to sleep. Daniel followed her glance, noting the hard nipples denting the thin material. Jenn’s breasts were properly tucked in but the camisole was tight enough to leave very little to the imagination. When Jenn looked back up, Daniel was grinning.</p> <p class="cb">“You’re lucky I want this jam or I’d brain you with the jar, funny man.”</p> <p class="cb">“Sorry, love. No, we went because Serena got a tip that Marjorie would be there.”</p> <p class="cb">“Marjorie? So she’s back? And at the Spirited Flesh? I wouldn’t have pegged her for that sort of place.”</p> <p class="cb">“Well, she was there, and you may not have pegged her for it, but she was on stage dancing, and she did it exceptionally well.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn gave him a knowing look. </p> <p class="cb">“And you liked her, didn’t you, my little funny man?”</p> <p class="cb">“Well, I am a man, aren’t I? So yeah, I liked it, at some level. It was a good show. Really good show. But it went downhill pretty quick afterwards.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn was listening, eating quietly.</p> <p class="cb">“Serena wanted to go talk to Marjorie backstage, but security wouldn’t let her, so we snuck around back to see if we could find a door or something and we saw a man toss Marjorie into a limo and it drove away before we could stop them.”</p> <p class="cb">“Wow. That’s wild. Did she see you?”</p> <p class="cb">“Marjorie? Don’t know. I don’t think so—Serena screamed her name, but she did not seem to react. Then again, it happened pretty fast.”</p> <p class="cb">“So Marjorie’s disappeared again?”</p> <p class="cb">“Near as I can tell. She doesn’t seem to have gone back home last night. And I think Serena took it personally, too. She’s looking into the limo company, trying to track down Marjorie again. She’s convinced there’s some sort of foul play involved.”</p> <p class="cb">“I sense a but.”</p> <p class="cb">“But I’m not so sure, and Serena’s can’t figure out the angle. Look, Jenn, you didn’t see her dance on stage last night. Forget about whether I found it arousing or not. She was into it, completely. I don’t think she could have faked it, not that well. She was... she was hungry. The whole crowd picked up on it and reacted accordingly. Whatever funny business is going on, no one forced Marjorie to go and dance last night.”</p> <p class="cb">“Mmm,” was Jenn’s only comment. “I hope Serena keeps us up to date.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel grinned. “You have any doubt?”</p> <p class="cb">They finished their breakfast in silence, a not uncommon occurrence. Daniel had come to enjoy those moments of calm in the large kitchen, where in the morning the sun would shine through the large bay window of the adjoining living room. He especially relished—and he knew it sounded trite but feelings were feelings however much they might feel like they had been recycled from too many motion-picture scenarios—Jenn being near while she still had that air of sleepiness clinging to her, hair scrunched together in a rough ponytail, face relaxed and clear, body still demanding warmth. Perhaps because she was at her most natural then, at her most vulnerable? </p> <p class="cb">That morning, however, Daniel could tell something was bothering her, and it was not his previous night’s outing, he was pretty sure. She seemed to be fighting off the urge to breach a topic as if it was on the tip of her tongue just waiting to leap out at the slightest provocation. Provocation that Daniel was happy to provide, since he could guess what that topic was.</p> <p class="cb">“How about you,” he asked, “your chat with Professor Framingham?”</p> <p class="cb">She looked at him, and seemed at first almost reluctant to respond. “We talked about the scholarship and the program at Austin some, and she was very encouraging, and, oh Daniel, it sounds so very good and perfect and just a wonderful place to be!”</p> <p class="cb">She paused, an expression that Daniel had seldom seen on her face—was it shyness?—and he gave her all the time she needed.</p> <p class="cb">“Have you... have you thought some more about...”</p> <p class="cb">“About going to Austin?”</p> <p class="cb">“Yes, that. I know it’s big, it’s a big step, it’s probably not what you were thinking, going off to Texas and all that, but it’s only temporary, just a couple of years, and we could have fun, loads of fun, and I know I’ll be busy, but there are plenty of nice places, and Austin seems to have a good PolSci department, and I know, I know, that they’re pretty much Texas-focused and that you were hoping for a more national outlook but I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out and that we’ll be together and I’m babbling and I should really let you put in a word in edge-wise shouldn’t I?”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel could not help but smile at her, shaking his head. She looked adorable, trying to keep quiet and let him have his say.</p> <p class="cb">“You’ve really been thinking about this, haven’t you?” Jenn nodded. “Okay, so have I. I see three options. One, we forget about the scholarship and proceed as though it never happened. Two, we spend a couple of years apart, you at Austin me somewhere else. Three, I find something in Austin to tie me over or that I find genuinely interesting. Now,” he added rapidly when he saw that Jenn wasted to interject, “I refuse to consider the possibility of you declining the Blumberry—you’ve worked too hard for it and I couldn’t live with that. So that’s out, at least from my perspective. I also have no desire to spend any time away from you if I can help it, but at the same time I’m not sure that cooling my heels for two years would be useful for me, career-wise, and I’m worried that if I’m unhappy it might affect our relationship.”</p> <p class="cb">“Fair enough. I’m not so ready to dismiss the option of just declining the scholarship, though. It’s not all your choice, you know.”</p> <p class="cb">“Be that as it may, my plan then is to first check out the possibilities in Austin and the area, then we’ll have some data to help make the decision. I’m going to talk to my advisor today, and see if we can work something out. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try my damnedest to head out to Austin with you.”</p> <p class="cb">“Okay, so we don’t talk about it further before you know something. Okay.” Jenn looked like she was trying to convince herself. “Okay. I can do that.”</p> <p class="cb">“It doesn’t have to be that drastic. I mean, we can still—”</p> <p class="cb">“No. Otherwise, it’s the only thing I’ll think or talk about, and it’ll drive us crazy. No. Let’s table it. I don’t have to respond until the end of December. So let’s talk again, say, in early December. Until then, we gather data. You talk to your people, I talk to my people. We compare notes then.” She looked pensive for a few seconds. “Besides, I have an idea for how we can pass the time.” She smiled a smile that worried him.</p> <p class="cb">She made her way over to him, pushed his chair away from the table, and sat on his lap and hugged him. He hugged her back, and before long he was thoroughly aware of her almost naked body on top of his and the weight of her breasts against his chest, and his cock jerked at the sensations. Jenn felt it, and grinned back at him, playfully rubbing her ass on the growing erection.</p> <p class="cb">“Someone’s awake this morning,” she said. </p> <p class="cb">“Well, you know—”</p> <p class="cb">She did not let him finish, kissing him deeply.</p> <p class="cb">“Wow. So, what’s that idea of yours, and does it involve heading back to the bedroom?” he asked when she let him go.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn jumped up, excitement all over her face.</p> <p class="cb">“Just something I saw last week, and now it makes so much sense! Do you have any plans for tonight? No? Good. Don’t make any. Let’s spend tonight at home. Be back by seven. I have something for you. Might help us make up our minds about Austin. Oh, this is going to be fun!”</p> <p class="cb">She leaned over and kissed him again, hard, a kiss that perked up his erection to full strength. She skipped away to get dressed, leaving Daniel aroused and wondering.</p> <p class="cb">The morning went by slowly for Daniel, between classes and work to be finished, and lunch was a welcome break. Serena showed up in the dining hall towards the end of lunch period, looking frazzled and frustrated.</p> <p class="cb">“You okay?” asked Daniel.</p> <p class="cb">“This morning was an utter and complete washout.” She groaned. “Marjorie hasn’t reappeared, no one knows anything about the charms bracelet we found, and the limo company isn’t returning my calls. Fuck.” She slammed her cell phone down on the table and stared at it as if it remained silent specifically to spite her.</p> <p class="cb">“It’s only been half a day. Things will turn up.”</p> <p class="cb">She groaned again. “Let’s hope so. I’ve got a contact at the police department who’s agreed to look into the limo via more official channels, but everything’s complicated by the fact that this is not a missing-person case.”</p> <p class="cb">“I guess the police is used to people acting weird.”</p> <p class="cb">“Forget weird, how about not making any sort of sense? I mean you were there last night. You saw her. She danced like she had been doing it all her life. Fuck, she danced better than most that have danced all their life. And what she did up there...”</p> <p class="cb">“Yeah...”</p> <p class="cb">“That wasn’t Marjorie.”</p> <p class="cb">“Wait, I thought you said—”</p> <p class="cb">“It was Marjorie, but she wasn’t herself. I can’t explain it.”</p> <p class="cb">“Did you talk to the frat?”</p> <p class="cb">“Delta Iota Kappa? I’m headed there this afternoon. Not that I’m looking forward to it, mind you. Bunch of bigoted retards, the lot of them.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel shrugged noncommittally. He had no interest in the Greek life, did not keep up with it, felt the better for knowing little about it. The only time he became aware of them was during their annual pledge week. </p> <p class="cb">“They’re the ones that hold that huge party every spring,” added Serena, “The one that women-rights groups have been clamoring against since times immemorial? DIK-Bash? Stupid name.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel knew about DIK-Bash, easily the most infamous party on campus, variously described as an affront to women and as an orgiastic display of flesh depending on who was asked. It was reputed to harbor more scantily clad women than Florida beaches during Spring Break. Invitations, however, were hard to come by.</p> <p class="cb">“I’m meeting their PR guy later,” added Serena.</p> <p class="cb">“They have a PR guy?”</p> <p class="cb">“So it seems. Okay, gotta go. Say hi to Jenn, tell her I missed her last night.”</p> <p class="cb">And she left, in as much of a rush as when she had arrived. Daniel wondered if she would ever slow down.</p> <p class="cb">The rest of his day was relatively quiet, as he settled down to research and write a paper. He took an hour mid-afternoon to hunt down some professors he felt sufficiently close to and ask their advice about career prospects in Austin, and emerged from those discussions more confused than before. He disliked being confused, liked having a plan, a course of action.</p> <p class="cb">Back home, Jenn and he had a quick dinner before she asked him to go to the living room and wait for her. Intrigued, Daniel settled himself on the couch and pondered the benefits of an early evening nap.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn joined him in the living room carrying what looked like a board game. Daniel was curious—they never played board games except for the rare bout of Scrabble, rare because Jenn was—unsurprisingly given her literary tendencies—a formidable opponent.</p> <p class="cb">She dropped the box on the coffee table and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Daniel. The box was plain black, with only a name emblazoned in deep red: <i>What is thy Bidding, my Master?</i></p> <p class="cb">“I wonder how much they had to pay to license that name from Lucas,” Daniel asked, amused.</p> <p class="cb">“Oh shush. I got it today at the game store on Broad Street. I read about it online a few weeks back. It sounded very interesting, and right now I figure it’s the best thing for us. It’s an adult mind control game.”</p> <p class="cb">“A what now?”</p> <p class="cb">“An adult mind control game. Kind of like those adult board games we looked at last Christmas when we visited your parents, you know, the ones where you have cards that tell you to act out some fantasy, or to remove a piece of clothing, or kiss one of the players, or—”</p> <p class="cb">“I get it, thanks. Okay, so it’s a sex game. Why?”</p> <p class="cb">“It sounded amusing.”</p> <p class="cb">“No, I mean, why do you think that’s the best thing for us right now? Do we have a problem that I’m not aware of? Is this a subtle hint of some kind?”</p> <p class="cb">“No, silly. Our sex life is great. But you know what they say about keeping the fires of passion burning?”</p> <p class="cb">“Ouch, ouch, it burns?”</p> <p class="cb">She tossed a cushion in his direction. “You did hint a few times that you had kinks you thought perhaps we should explore, and I figured that this might be a way to do just that. Find your inner pervert, if you will. As I said, sounded amusing.”</p> <p class="cb">“This wouldn’t have anything to do with our discussion this morning about Austin, in some twisted way only your mind can fathom?”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn almost blushed. “You mean that perhaps I might be thinking that by trying out some kinkiness and stuff then you might consider coming with me to Austin even more seriously because then you’d know what you’d be giving up were we to be apart? That would be seriously manipulative, wouldn’t it?”</p> <p class="cb">“That it would. And amazingly appropriate given the name of the game. Jenn—”</p> <p class="cb">“Shush. No talking about that now, remember? We agreed to discuss it in December. Tonight, I just want to have some fun and relax and maybe get a little bit lucky.” Her eyes flashed. “So, shall we?”</p> <p class="cb">“Lead the way.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn opened the box and pulled out a board that she unfolded onto the table, as well as packs of cards and tokens. Jenn, who seemed to have read the instructions beforehand, set up the board while explaining the broad lines of the rules. </p> <p class="cb">“Basically, it’s your typical board game, where you move around the board based on the toss of the dice, and follow the directions of the squares you land on. You accumulate tokens throughout the game, these little watches—”</p> <p class="cb">“Watches?”</p> <p class="cb">“You know, for hypnosis.”</p> <p class="cb">“Oh. Cute.”</p> <p class="cb">“Anyway, you accumulate those watches that basically play the role of money that you can transact with, and you have these event cards here that give you further instructions or introduce accidents or stuff, and then, then you have these control cards,” she pointed to two packs of cards labelled <i>For Him</i> and <i>For Her</i> , “that you may either purchase with your watch tokens or obtain through luck, and that you keep and can play when you land on a square on which there is already a player that you control to get them to do stuff.”</p> <p class="cb">“What kind of stuff?”</p> <p class="cb">“Sex stuff. Kinky stuff. Of all sort. You’ll see.”</p> <p class="cb">“Sounds straightforward enough. How do you get to control someone?”</p> <p class="cb">“Depends. There are a few ways. You’ll know when you encounter them. It usually involves a purchase using tokens.”</p> <p class="cb">“Okay. Doesn’t sound overly thrilling, to be completely honest.”</p> <p class="cb">“Spoilsport. Just give it a chance.”</p> <p class="cb">Before long, and much to his surprise, Daniel found himself engrossed in the gameplay. It was simple, no argument there, but it was well thought out and did require some strategizing. And, of course, there were a few perks. Both he and Jenn had lost various pieces of clothing, since the game did really include the standard tropes of sex board games. He was down to boxer shorts and socks, while Jenn still had on a bra and her sweatpants. Perhaps it was only the slow ramp up of sexual appetite elicited by the game, but seeing his girlfriend half-nude was having an effect. Perhaps there was something to that mind control thing after all, he thought, and smiled.</p> <p class="cb">“What’s so funny?” asked Jenn.</p> <p class="cb">“Nothing, just being silly.”</p> <p class="cb">“Well, pay attention, since the card I got concerns you.”</p> <p class="cb">“Oh?”</p> <p class="cb">She read the event card she had just picked. “Here goes: ‘Kiss the player to your right for two minutes. If at the end of the two minutes they are aroused, get two hypno-tokens. If they are not, they get two hypno-tokens.’ Since we’re just two, that makes you my victim right now.” </p> <p class="cb">“Huh, okay. So we have to kiss then.”</p> <p class="cb">“Unless you want to incur a penalty.”</p> <p class="cb">“Nah, I think I can stomach it. Come on, give me your best shot.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn grinned, and stood slowly. Daniel tried very hard not to pay too much attention to the way her breasts moved under her bra. Jenn set the little timer conveniently provided with the game for two minutes. She then got on her knees on the couch next to Daniel and, gently turning his head to her, kissed him, softly at first, then more and more urgently, her lips parting to let her tongue play first with his lips then his own tongue. Before half the time allotted was up, Jenn was kissing Daniel with a passion that threatened to overwhelm him. In the final minute of the kiss, Jenn was cradled in his arms, practically sitting in his lap, pressing the side of her body hard against his crotch, almost humping him while their lips remained locked, her breasts pushing against his chest.</p> <p class="cb">When the soft bell of the timer rang to indicate that two minutes had elapsed, Jenn slowly straightened up while Daniel tried to catch his breath and recover from the most intense kiss he had experienced in a while. Perhaps there was something to this game after all, he thought.</p> <p class="cb">“Let’s see, now.” Jenn was smiling broadly as she reached with a hand and grabbed Daniel’s rock-hard cock through his shorts. He gasped, and his cock jerked at the contact. “Yup. Hard. Two watches for me.”</p> <p class="cb">She got off the couch and skipped back to her place down by the table, leaving Daniel with a hard-on that he had no real way to deal with at that moment. The thought of a hand job flashed through his mind. He moaned softly, dejected, and that elicited a small chuckle from Jenn.</p> <p class="cb">“Imagine playing this with others! We should invite the rest of the musketeers next time,” she said.</p> <p class="cb">“Ah! Radhu would pop a neuron at the thought of doing anything like that with Serena. And what happens if we definitely don’t want to kiss the person? I mean, I like Radhu and all, but I don’t fancy locking lips with him.”</p> <p class="cb">“As I said, there are penalties if you don’t want to follow a card’s instructions. You can look them up. Except for the control cards, though. Those you cannot get out of, short of forfeiting the game. After all, it’s a mind control game, not a BDSM game with safe words.”</p> <p class="cb">“I thought even under hypnosis you couldn’t get someone to do something they truly did not want to do?”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn rolled her eyes. “It’s a game, Daniel. Relax. Go with the flow.”</p> <p class="cb">They resumed the game, Daniel a bit more into it now that he had had his first taste of the possibilities, and before too long he had acquired his first control card. It was fairly mild, all things considered, but that he had it and what it implied was slowly making its way through his brain.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn’s eye had flashed when she saw him reach for the control card, and she looked like the proverbial cat having swallowed the proverbial canary.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel read the card. “Order a woman player you control to wear something of your choice.” He could not play it until he had Jenn under his control, however. Control could be achieved by landing on a special square, or by purchasing it with enough watches, or through trade with other players. Who thinks of those things? he wondered. </p> <p class="cb">Three moves later, and it was Jenn’s turn to pick up a control card, and she grinned like a madwoman when she read it. Daniel felt a pang of worry.</p> <p class="cb">And then, it happened. Daniel picked up an event card that offered him a special price on hypnosis—a discount due to a traveling show, it said—and he had enough tokens to purchase control of a player. A smile on his face, he pounced. </p> <p class="cb">“Ten watches, and I now get control of you, love.”</p> <p class="cb">He reached out and put a smaller plastic version of his board piece on top of Jenn’s own piece.</p> <p class="cb">“Let the games begin,” added Daniel.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn watched him intently, but remained silent. They continued playing. Jenn picked up another control card, but the control itself still eluded her. Daniel managed to pick up a few more control cards as well. The game seemed to have reached a second phase of sorts.</p> <p class="cb">Finally, Daniel moved his piece and landed on the same square as Jenn. She immediately looked up at Daniel. He took his time, enjoying the suspense and yes, the power, before putting down a control card. She picked it up and read it. It was his first card.</p> <p class="cb">“Jenn, love, please go wear something sexy.”</p> <p class="cb">“What do you—”</p> <p class="cb">“Surprise me.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn nodded. Daniel watched her head to the bedroom, his eyes straying down her body.</p> <p class="cb">He contemplated his cards, the board, his mind a whirl of images of Jenn and other girls he fancied in sexually explicit situations, and he could feel the undertone of tension due to the whole Austin question. Don’t think about that, he chided himself, not tonight.</p> <p class="cb">“Is this suitable, master?” </p> <p class="cb">Daniel turned to look, and thoughts of the future and of other girls just evaporated. Jenn had chosen a short satin slip, plum colored, that barely reached the middle of her thighs. It delightfully clung to her curves, setting off her body better than nudity would have. Her breasts were perfectly outlined, and the slip plunged to offer a cleavage that drew the eye. Daniel was surprised and pleased that she had decided to put on a pair of black high-heeled shoes, the one she saved for official functions. She struck a classic pose by the entrance of the living room, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on Daniel, who could do nothing but stare open-mouthed at his girlfriend.</p> <p class="cb">“Well, is it?” she asked again.</p> <p class="cb">He nodded, not trusting his voice. </p> <p class="cb">Jenn smiled, then positively glided across the room to her spot by the table. Daniel’s eyes never left her, his gaze locked in on her legs as she walked, admiring the intricate play of muscles under the skin, toned thighs pulling, calves flexing, all emphasized by the heels.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn paused by the table, unsure as to how to best sit down on the floor. She finally shrugged and sat with her legs folded to the side. </p> <p class="cb">“My turn,” she said, voice soft. Almost subservient. Damn, thought Daniel, she’s good.</p> <p class="cb">They played on, with Daniel utterly distracted and hardly paying attention to the board, his eyes alternating between looking at Jenn’s thighs, tantalizingly exposed by her slip, and the valley between her breasts. Jenn acted demure, as though nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Daniel wondered at his own reaction—after all, he had seen Jenn with very little on often enough, and while it never failed to turn him on, he had never been affected quite as much as he was affected then. The subtext of the game was getting to him, it seemed. Did he have control fantasies he was not aware of? An intriguing question to explore later. Great, he thought, one more thing to ponder, like there wasn’t enough of those already.</p> <p class="cb">Being distracted did not hinder Daniel’s luck, however, and in the next several rounds managed to collect quite a few control cards, raising his total to five to Jenn’s two. Jenn still had not managed to put him under her control, so she had no opportunity to use them. Not so Daniel, who in fact was eagerly waiting for his playing piece to land on the same square as Jenn’s one more time.</p> <p class="cb">His luck came after a snake eye’s shot landed him in the coveted company. Jenn looked up at him, waiting to see what he would do. He gazed back, taking his time, enjoying the moment, milking it for every ounce of anticipatory excitement. Days of his youth spent walking to the candy store with his pockets full of quarters, fantasizing about what he would purchase once there, came to mind, the feeling so familiar it made him ache. Slowly he put down the control card he had chosen well before he rolled the dice. Jenn read it. “Order a woman player you control to perform a lap dance for the player of your choice.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn fought hard to suppress a grin, while at the same time blushing madly. Daniel surmised that playing the game had affected her as well, since he knew his girlfriend enough to recognize that her blush was in large part the result of arousal, tinged with self-consciousness. And Jenn was so rarely self-conscious that the novelty served to excite him further.</p> <p class="cb">Playing it up, he leaned back on the sofa, appearing casual and supremely in control, a cool customer. Jenn, meanwhile, stood up slowly, unfolding before Daniel who did not want to miss a second of the show she was putting on. Jenn looked around the room, then told Daniel to wait for a second before dashing to the kitchen and bringing back a chair.</p> <p class="cb">“Come sit here. We’ll be more comfortable,” she said. Daniel nodded and did as she asked. Jenn went to their entertainment center and after fiddling with it a bass-heavy droning music arose from the speakers.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn started swaying in time to the music, with her hips only at first, her back turned to Daniel, one hand on a bookcase, the other at her waist. Mesmerized, Daniel watched her ass swing left and right in time with the music. He wondered suddenly if Jenn had any underwear on. He had not said anything about them, so it really depended on how she had interpreted his request. No, he corrected himself, his command.</p> <p class="cb">When the music really kicked in, Jenn turned around and started dancing the way he had seen her dance at times, except this time it was only for him, and it was so much more sexy than anything he had ever seen her do before. She bumped, she ground, she flirted, her hair flying about with her wildest movements, her slip threatening to rise up over her hips but by some miracle of modern textile technology never did, hiding all of Jenn’s treasures while leaving her legs open to ogling. Daniel did not know where to look, and decided to follow her hands, which were traveling, at times quickly and at times slowly, up and down her body as she danced to the music, caressing up the inside of her thighs, or pressing her ass cheeks together, or cupping her breasts and offering them to his astonished gaze.</p> <p class="cb">The music suddenly shifted, and clearly Jenn had know this would happen, because she was already on her hands and knees on the floor, prowling towards Daniel like a predator stalking her prey. He was offered a perfect plunging view of Jenn’s breasts as her slip bulged slightly, and their gentle swaying was hypnotic, which he thought was appropriate given the game they were playing.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn reached his chair and put her hands on his knees, the touch making him jump. She stood, ever so slowly—first kneeling up, her chest moving to the music, eyes closed, head lolling, then crouching, sitting on her heels, then straightening, the movements of her chest communicated to her whole body, her ass swinging from left to right to left to right. He lifted one arm to touch her, enticed by her nearness, but she slapped his hand away. She leaned towards him, her hands once more on his knees. </p> <p class="cb">“No touching,” she said, her voice a breathless huff. “You know the usual lap dance rules. I do the touching.” She moved her hands up Daniel’s legs, stopping just short of his desperate erection.</p> <p class="cb">She danced still, this time in close quarters, her arms raised above her head, eyes closed once more, her slip lifting almost—but not quite—to where anything could be seen.</p> <p class="cb">When Daniel thought he could endure it no longer, Jenn turned around, then lowered herself onto his lap and continued dancing against him. His overly sensitive cock reacted as though it was in direct contact with her skin and not hidden away in boxer shorts. She leaned back against his chest. Her hair was smothering him but he did not mind—he did not even notice. When she leaned her head far back over his left shoulder, baring her throat, offering him another plunging view down the front of her slip, he saw that she was not wearing any bra—which he had already guessed—and that she was sporting a small G-string the same plum color as the slip. He could also see that her nipples were erect into hard little nubs that begged to be pulled.</p> <p class="cb">“Is this what you wanted?” asked Jenn, her voice now throaty.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel nodded, a sound of some kind escaping him.</p> <p class="cb">“Tell me, that strip club last night, it turned you on, didn’t it? Seeing all those girls expose themselves for your pleasure, like little playthings, it got your cock hard, didn’t it? Did you get a lap dance last night? No? Ahhh, poor little boy. Had I been there, I’d have danced for you. Just like this.” She pushed her ass hard onto his cock, and Daniel groaned. Jenn moaned in response.</p> <p class="cb">“Jenn,” he said, his voice tight, “turn around, face me.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn smiled. Slowly, maintaining contact for as long as she could, she swiveled around and straddled his legs, pressing hard once again into his lap. She looked at him right in the eyes, her smile lingering on her lips.</p> <p class="cb">“Whatever you say, master.”</p> <p class="cb">The playful inflection she put on that sentence sent waves of frenzy to his cock. She noticed, laughed, and ground hard against his throbbing erection. Daniel feared he would come in his pants, which might have been embarrassing if not for his suspicion that Jenn would take it as a delightfully heartfelt tribute.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn’s breasts were right before him, still half concealed by the slip. Daniel longed to touch, but kept to the rules of their game. He followed the slip down to her crotch to see the plum garment had risen up over her hips when she had spread her legs, and her tiny G-string was the only thing separating her pussy from him. She was beautiful.</p> <p class="cb">“Like the view?” asked Jenn in his ear. She was lightly rubbing her cheek against his, mimicking with her face what the rest of her body was doing. She then repeated the motion with her lips, lightly running them all over his face, holding up his head with her hands. </p> <p class="cb">“God, this is turning me on so much,” she whispered. She ground her crotch against his cock as if to punctuate her statement. “I can just imagine dancing like this on your lap in that club, half-naked in front of a bunch of people cheering me on. Can you picture it?”</p> <p class="cb">He could.</p> <p class="cb">“Or perhaps I’m dancing like this on top of someone else, some poor little boy, perhaps an innocent little virgin that his buddies brought over to be initiated, the kind that’s so fun to tease and get off?”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel’s cock jerked hard. Jenn laughed. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? You’d like to see me give another man a lap dance, wiggle my little butt for him, thrust my tits in his face, like this?” She illustrated her statement, pulling Daniel’s head between her breasts. “Too bad we didn’t have another player here tonight, another man; you could have ordered me to perform for him.” Still holding on to his head, she rubbed his face on her cleavage, in counterpoint to the motion of her hips, still keeping time with the music. She moaned, pulled is head back, a wild look in her eyes.</p> <p class="cb">“Fuck, I’m so wet right now. Can you feel it?”</p> <p class="cb">She did not give him time to answer, but pressed her mouth on his, hard, and kissed him, lips against lips, tongue against tongue, teeth against teeth, her whole body molding itself against his, undulating, shifting, pushing. </p> <p class="cb">“I want you inside,” she said upon pulling out of the kiss. She lifted herself just enough to shift Daniel’s shorts down and free his cock, which on cue sprung up as if it was a jack-in-the-box.</p> <p class="cb">“Hey, I thought you were supposed to do what I wanted?”</p> <p class="cb">She pushed the gusset of her G-string aside to uncover her moist pussy, aligned it over his shaft, and paused to look at him.</p> <p class="cb">“Well then, I guess your control is not perfect. You’ll have to practice some.”</p> <p class="cb">And she sat on his cock, without flinching, without stopping, stabbing herself with the hardened shaft. Daniel sank into her like an elephant in quicksand. She was warm and tight, and the intensity of their arousal was such that it was as though he was impaled inside a whole new pussy.</p> <p class="cb">When his cock was fully inside, Jenn let out a deep sigh, and let herself go against him, basking, reveling, wallowing in the moment of fullness. Daniel did not move, enjoying the shared moment.</p> <p class="cb">At some unspoken signal, they started to move together. Jenn ground her ass back and forth on Daniel’s lap, while he shifted his hips in counterpoint.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn then got serious, pushing herself against Daniel, kissing him again, and proceeded to fuck him thoroughly, lifting herself up by the strength of her legs, at first pushing herself back down but soon slamming herself down and impaling herself on the hard shaft. Daniel was content to let himself be ridden. He enjoyed watching her, and was fascinated by the way her breasts swayed under the thin slip.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn was getting close to climax, he could tell, and felt her juices leak down the sides of his cock. So he needed practice, didn’t he?</p> <p class="cb">He grabbed Jenn by the waist, stopping her. She opened her eyes, frowned, and was about to protest when Daniel gave her a light slap on the ass.</p> <p class="cb">“Get off, and get on the floor.”</p> <p class="cb">“But—”</p> <p class="cb">“I thought you were supposed to do what I told you?”</p> <p class="cb">“You were supposed to only get a lap dance!”</p> <p class="cb">“Well, I guess my control isn’t perfect yet. Now get on the floor so I can fuck you properly.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn tried to maintain her frown, but soon gave up and grinned. “Promises, promises...” She kissed him once more before sliding him out and laying down on the ground. She stretched luxuriously, her eyes on Daniel the whole time.</p> <p class="cb">“Turn around. I want you from behind.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn smiled, turning onto her stomach slowly, making a show of it. Daniel loved the way her ass looked in that position. By the time he had taken his post behind her, she was on her hands and knees, head down, back arched, ass offered. She had shed the whiff of material that posed as underwear, and Daniel could see her pussy, puffy, red, moist, practically begging to be penetrated.</p> <p class="cb">Which he obliged without hesitation, pushing his cock into Jenn’s pussy in one long sustained thrust. Jenn gasped when Daniel bottomed out. She did so again when, after pulling himself out almost completely, he thrust back into her. He soon settled into a regular rhythm, fucking her fast, hard, and deep. He loved taking her like that—the position afforded him to go in where her pussy could sheath him like a wetsuit. Jenn seemed to enjoy it as well, as witnessed by the sounds that escaped her and the thrusts of her ass back against his.</p> <p class="cb">She had been close to coming earlier when they were on the chair, so it did not take long for their fucking to have the desired effect—Jenn was quickly approaching her release point. Her moans had turned into groans and were now being vocalized in an endearing litany of squeals interspersed with shouts of “Yes!” and “Oh!”. When Daniel spied one of her hands sneak down to her crotch to undoubtedly play with her little love button, he knew she was about to pop. So was he. Slowing down, he tried to time it so that when her hand touched her clit he would shove hard, impaling himself inside her as deep as he would go. And he did. And Jenn exploded, right on cue, her back arching high, a scream escaping her throat while a shiver ran through her body. Daniel remained embedded deep inside her for several seconds, his pubic bone flush against her ass, before pulling out and thrusting back into her, bucking his way to his own orgasm. Jenn, post-orgasmically sensitive, was mewling, shivers still wracking her body.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel let out a shout when he came, pushing once more deeply into the depths of his girlfriend, and they collapsed together, breathless, sweaty, spent. Daniel rolled onto his back, and stretched his arms wide.</p> <p class="cb">“Wow,” he said. “That was... Wow.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn lazily slid up against him, and nestled herself into his side. “Yeah.”</p> <p class="cb">“You know,” added Daniel after several minutes staring at the ceiling, “we have to start using the bed again. This whole screwing on the floor is getting hard on the knees.”</p> <p class="cb">He could feel Jenn smile against him. “The old rug burns. It’s like I’m back in high school.”</p> <p class="cb">“What?”</p> <p class="cb">“Never mind.”</p> <p class="cb">They were silent for a while.</p> <p class="cb">“Jenn, love, look, you don’t have to do this.”</p> <p class="cb">“Do what?”</p> <p class="cb">“This. This whole seduction thing, this whole catering to my wishes, yadi yadi yada.”</p> <p class="cb">She propped herself up on her elbow and looked at him.</p> <p class="cb">“I’m doing this because I want to. Now,” she smiled, vaguely naughty, “if it so happens that, as a side effect of what we’re doing, you are reminded of what it is you like about me, and what you would miss by us being apart, well...”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel smiled back at her. “You are such a manipulative bitch.”</p> <p class="cb">“Aren’t I? I’m soooo sorry. How can I make it up to?” She pretended to think about it. “How about this: you want to play a game?”</p> <p class="cb">“Another? I think I’m just about done for now, thank you.”</p> <p class="cb">“Not another game, call it an extension of this one. You got yourself a few more of those control cards, right? Well, how about this—I will let you use those cards on me for real, whenever you want to play them. No questions asked, no backing off.”</p> <p class="cb">“What are you saying?”</p> <p class="cb">“That when we go out, say, you can decide to pull out a card like the one you just played earlier, and I have to obey it.”</p> <p class="cb">“And you’d give me a lap dance, wherever we are?”</p> <p class="cb">“If that’s what the card says, yes. Sounds fun, no?”</p> <p class="cb">“Sounds more like you’re trying to screw with my head some more. Come on, Jenn, I told you you don’t have to do this.”</p> <p class="cb">“And I told you I’m doing this because I want to. So, are you in? Actually, who cares? You do what you want, and if you happen to plop down a card at some point, then I’ll just have to do what it says, won’t I?”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel watched her face break into a smug smile, and shook his head.</p> <p class="cb">“Fine,” he said. “You want to play that way? We’ll play that way. Teach you a little lesson, that’ll do you good. Here,” and he stretched an arm, reaching for the four control cards he had left from his discarded hand. He chose one, and handed it to her.</p> <p class="cb">“Order a woman player you control to give you a blow job, choosing the modalities of ejaculation,” she read.</p> <p class="cb">“There you go,” he said, folding his arms behind his head. “Now suck me. And face the other way—it’s easier for me to go deep, and I get to look at your ass.” He wondered how far he could push this jerk-master attitude.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn looked down his body and saw that he was sporting a fresh erection. Looking into his eyes again, she put on her best submissive face. “Whatever you say, master.”</p> <p class="cb">Swiveling around, she kneeled next to him, and gently took the head of his cock between her lips, sucking him in slowly. Daniel ran a hand over the back of her thighs up to her ass, which he shameless fondled. She had a fantastic behind, he noted, and not for the first time. Then her mouth engulfed his cock almost down to the root, and he groaned, and figured that this was going to be a good one.</p> <p class="cb">“Make sure you swallow everything when I come, my little slut.”</p> <p class="cb">Her answer was muffled by the hard cock in her throat, but Daniel was pretty sure it sounded like “Whatever you say, master.”</p> </body> </div> <p class="cd">Posted: <i>April 5, 2010</i></p> <p class="cd">Edited: <i>March 24, 2011</i></p> </html>

Author: Bulgroz the Third Title: The Adjusters #15 - Confrontations Keywords: MF, mc Posted: April 3, 2011 Edited: April 3, 2011 The Adjusters #15 Confrontations It was late morning on a sunny and crisp Saturday when Daniel walked up the path that led to the large mansion that housed the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity. It had been a tough week. Seven days since he saw the DVD that Biff -- as Daniel presumed -- had left for him, on which the young man had fucked his fiancee. There was no point in sugarcoating it. Biff had fucked her. And she had seemed to enjoy it. Figuring out why was one of the questions to which Daniel had no answer. And to find the answer, he had to find Jenn. He had filed a missing-persons report with the police, and had been hounding them for the past several days. They had not made much progress, and seemed generally unconcerned about it. They claimed that students often took a week off without warning, and that they could not be expected to jump the gun every time. They would investigate, and get back to him. At first Daniel had been angry, but Radhu had reminded him how Serena had ranted about the police's inefficacy when Marjorie went missing. So he had mobilized his and Jenn's friends around school, and they had put up signs and called everyone they could think of to keep a look out for both Jenn and Biff. The brothers at the frat house to which Biff belonged had been unhelpful in the extreme. They claimed not to have seen Biff since the day before Jenn had gone missing, and Bernie -- who Daniel remembered as a name that came up during his weird dream he had before Jenn disappeared -- was also unavailable. Daniel had not believed them. What about the president? he had asked. He was away at a psychology conference, he would be back in a few days. Daniel had gotten angry, and had to be escorted out of the frat house. He had tried to get the police to go in and investigate, and they had replied that they knew their business, thank you very much. Daniel had felt utterly helpless. Mid-week, he had tracked down Jackson -- the one person he knew in the frat that might talk to him -- by going through his friend Cindy, who happened to know his course schedule. He had told Cindy the broad lines of what had happened -- that Biff had somehow abducted Jenn -- and she had been appropriately horrified and comforting. Daniel knew that Cindy had hung out with Biff in the past -- he had even witnessed them make out -- and she had seemed unwilling to believe that Biff would stoop so low. She had been unable to shed any light on the events, however, even when Daniel had questioned her about the bracelet and the dick girls. She had merely repeated what she had told him in the past, that the bracelet was a reward and a ticket for special events. She had not known that Jenn had been selected -- those things were rarely advertised, she had said. Daniel had tried to press her further, but Cindy had nothing more to contribute, and had seemed genuinely unhappy about it. With Cindy's information, however, he had managed to corner Jackson after his introductory biochemistry class. Daniel had wasted no time getting to the point. "Where's Biff?" he had asked. Jackson had shrugged, unperturbed by Daniel's rudeness. "No clue. Haven't seen him around for at least a week." "Right! Brothers unite, isn't? Frat first! I got your back, bro!" Daniel had not even tried to keep the acid from dripping into his words. "I'm looking for that fucker Biff and I'm going to find him and break his fucking kneecaps and fucking rip his fucking balls out and you're not gonna protect him." Jackson had looked Daniel in the eyes. "Dude, calm down. I swear to you, I'm not protected him. I really haven't seen him around for at least a week. I don't think he's been back at the house at all. And if you want to break the guy's kneecaps, I'll hold him down while you do it -- the guy's an ass. What happened?" "Jenn. Biff did something. She's gone. He took her." Jackson had frowned. "Talk to me." Daniel had hesitated, unsure whether to trust Jackson, but eventually had summarized the events of the last few days, including his getting Biff's DVD, without going into the details of the video. Jackson had listened silently. "Look," he had said, when Daniel finished recounting his tale, "as I said, I don't think Biff's been around the frat house for a while now. Near as I can tell, no one knows where he is. And I think everyone's the better for him not being around, so no one's complaining. I'll try and find out what's going on, okay? I promise that whatever I discover I'll let you know." Daniel had stared at Jackson, and after a pause, had nodded. "Thanks." Daniel had looked at the engagement ring on his finger. Jackson had gazed at it as well, his face unreadable. And then, there was last night. The private investigator he had hired, Pritznic, had called him to say that he had found Jenn, and that she was holed up at the Nickel and Dime with Biff. Daniel had missed the call, for the stupidest reason -- his phone battery had run out. He had seen the message when he had plugged his phone back in his charger at home, and he had grabbed a cab for the Nickel and Dime. Pritznic had been waiting for him there; Jenn and Biff were gone. Pritznic had given his report, an account of his tail of Jenn and the events at the Nickel and Dime, complete with digital pictures where Jenn was visible in all her naked glory in the parking lot, or seen embracing Biff. Pritznic had told Daniel that he had managed to talk to Jenn, and had relayed her message -- that she did not want to see him anymore -- and he had handed Daniel her engagement ring. Daniel had gaped at it, dumbfounded, the sheer physicality of the small object in the palm of his hand doing a better job of cementing the events of the past week than the DVD back home or the pictures in the camera before him. Pritznic had given Daniel a lift home. Daniel, under the shock, had not even had the presence of mind to ask him why he had not called the police. Daniel had played with Jenn's engagement ring all night, like it was a worry bead. Come morning, waking up on the couch where he must have fallen asleep near dawn, he headed up to the frat house, with the intent to find Kevin Cusker, president of Delta Iota Kappa. This was the day he was told the president was supposed to return from his conference. Daniel would get some answers. A car stopped in the parking area at the bottom of the walkway leading up to the house. Three young men stepped out -- two large ones sporting jackets with the Delta Iota Kappa logo, the third with a more business casual outfit and the look of a wary traveler. Daniel recognized him from the picture Serena had passed along: Kevin Cusker, Delta Iota Kappa president, and cousin to Biff. One of the two large young men grabbed a suitcase from the trunk of the car. They made their way up to the walkway. Daniel stepped into the path, blocking their way. The group stopped. The two larger guys moved up as if to protect Kevin. "Kevin Cusker," intoned Daniel. "What's it to you?" said the big guy on the left. Daniel ignored him. He addressed Kevin. "Where's Biff?" "Get the fuck out of the way, man," said the big guy on the right, somewhat more menacingly. Daniel kept is eyes on Kevin, who looked bored. "Your dim-witted cousin abducted my friend, Cusker. The police's looking for her now. And it's gonna make a big splash that'll stain your nice little frat here. I suggest you tell me where he is. Avoid the unpleasantries." "You sure she wasn't just craving Biff's big cock?" said the big guy on the right. The big guy on the left guffawed. The dig hit hard. Daniel frowned, fighting his rising anger. "Where is he, Cusker? Where's your fuckhead of a cousin?" The two guys picked up on the aggressive vibe and stepped in menacingly. Kevin sighed with exasperation and put his hand on the arm of the big guy on the right. "Oh come on, we have other crap to deal with right now than this. Relax, guys. The boy's right -- Biff is indeed a fuckhead. The thing is," and he turned to Daniel, "I've been away for more than a week, and I have no idea what you're talking about. I haven't heard from Biff, or anything having to do with this friend of yours, Mister...?" "Malcolm. Daniel Malcolm." "Mister Malcolm. I will look into it, and let you know what's going on, all right?" The big guy closest to Daniel smiled dangerously. "Betcha anything Biff's been giving it to his little friend -- she's probably begging him to ream her out good right now. Fucking slut --" "You piece of shit --" Daniel took a step forward. "Fuck, calm down --" interjected Kevin. The big guy in front of Daniel growled as Daniel approached, and caught him by one arm and threw him to the ground like he weighed absolutely nothing. "You fuckin' piece of shit --" Daniel got back on his feet. "Come on, little guy, you want a piece of me? No wonder your girl's looking for a big cock to satisfy her --" Daniel clenched his fists, his face red, while the two men protecting Kevin closed ranks, their own fists tight, a sour look in their eyes. Before the situation could degenerate, Daniel felt a hand on his arm, and a figured moved in to half shield him from the two goons. "Whoa -- calm down, everyone, deep breath. Daniel, it's okay, it's me." It was Jackson, looking somewhat out of breath, as if he had been running. "Come on, walk with me. It's okay, guys, he's okay. He's just a bit upset. No need for muscle. I'll deal with it." He tugged Daniel gently by the arm, and Daniel followed after casting a long glance at the two large guys who growled in response. Kevin was frowning but said nothing, watching the pair walk away. Jackson was pulling Daniel, who was calming down. Kevin and his bodyguards headed back towards the frat house. Jackson was still holding Daniel, speaking quietly. "Dude, those two gorillas would have butchered you... You're gonna need to put in some serious time at the gym before you can take one of them on. What were you thinking?" Daniel said nothing for a long time. He was watching the frat house, in which Kevin and the two goons had disappeared. "I just wanted to have a little chat with your president, that's all. Ask him about Biff." Jackson groaned. "Look, I told you I'd look into it, okay? Trust me." * * * When he returned to the frat house, after having seen a somewhat mollified Daniel off, Jackson was told that Kevin wanted to see him. Not a surprise, thought Jackson, as he headed towards the lounges. On the way, he thought about Daniel, and Jenn. He remembered Bernie telling me a few weeks back that Biff had his eyes on another girl. It must have been Jenn. He did not remember the frat deciding to ensnare Jenn, though, and while she definitely looked good enough to warrant the brothers' attention, she was also in a committed relationship, something that was supposed to be a show-stopper. And for exactly the reason that was highlighted in the last thirty minutes: upset boyfriends, or even concerned friends. Jackson shook his head, mumbling to himself. This would not end well. Moreover, he had liked Jenn, and the thought of Biff having his way with her, well, it bothered him some. And Daniel was a nice guy. Trust me, Jackson had told him. He hoped he would not come to regret that promise. He found the fraternity president sitting in his favorite lounge, the one with the burgundy theme. Bernie was with him, as was the fraternity's vice-president, Nils Helberg. The tall Norwegian with the pale blue eyes was quiet and efficient, and was widely known as Kevin's right-hand man. "Ah, Jackson," Kevin said when Jackson entered the room. "Care to explain what that was all about?" While outwardly jovial, Kevin's tone suggested impatience. Jackson hesitated, not knowing what to say, somewhat ill-at-ease with people in authority staring at him the way the president was staring at him. Kevin sighed, pointing to a chair. "Sit down, Jackson. You're not in trouble. But you seem to know that guy, and right now you're probably the one person that can tell me what's going on. So I'm asking. What did my cousin do this time?" Jackson sat down, and gave his interpretation of what Daniel had told him, about Biff stealing his fiancee away, sending the DVD, having Jenn return Daniel's ring, and his own conclusions that clearly Biff had Jenn programmed. "Why clearly?" asked Kevin. "First, because the notion that Jenn -- who I've met before -- would dump Daniel to go with Biff is preposterous -- no offense -- and second, because Daniel told me that Jenn was wearing one of our charms bracelet before she disappeared." "Mmm..." Kevin turned to Nils. "Do we have this girl on the list?" "Jennifer Hansen," supplied Jackson. Nils consulted a computer pad, and shook his head. "Nothing. She's not been processed." Kevin grunted. "Right. And we haven't been programming new girls since the doctor went into hiding after the incident at the NADA party before Christmas. I believe he hasn't even set foot in the lab since then. He's been completely out of contact. And completely paranoid." "Could Biff do it? I mean, program a girl by himself?" asked Bernie. "My cousin couldn't navigate his way out of the first room in Halo, forget about programming a girl. No, it had to be someone else. Bernie, what do you think?" "What? What are you...? I wouldn't --" "Who do you know that could program a girl without the doctor's help? You and a bunch of brothers programmed that cheerleader as a gift for the doctor. What was it? Trish? Any of them could have helped Biff?" "Maybe. I'll... I'll have to look into it. Check logs." Jackson could see that Bernie was high-strung. Kevin noticed as well. And his eyes narrowed. Bernie stammered -- "Look, Kevin, I had nothing to do with it. Nothing. I swear. Cross my heart, and hope to die." "Sure. I believe you, Bernie. You're too smart to pull off a stupid stunt like that. Check the logs. Nils, do we still have that CCTV feed for the lab? Good. Look through the records, and get back to me. I want to know who went in and used the lab to program that girl. I want a name." He turned to Jackson. "Now, how do we deal with the situation? What do we know? Who's this Daniel guy?" "Political science student, about to graduate, engaged to the girl that Biff supposedly disappeared with. Bit of a problem is that he's friends with Serena and Cindy, two of our girls." "Serena. Name's familiar. Was that the reporter that caused all those problems last semester?" "The same," replied Nils, who was busy looking up information on his pad. "Daniel Malcolm. Yes. He was actually one of the two men that caused that ruckus at NADA last fall." "Great, this gets better and better." Kevin pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. "This has cluster fuck written all over it. We need some damage control here. First order of business, Biff and his new toy have to disappear for a while -- lay low somewhere far away. Perhaps that little cottage we invested in on the Jersey shore? Or further away. I don't care. They've got to go." Nils looked up. "We'll need to find them first." "I think I know where they are," said Kevin, after a pause. "I'll find them." Jackson cleared his throat. "After we find them, instead of getting them out of town, wouldn't it just be simpler to return Daniel his fiancee? It should be possible to undo whatever Biff has done to her, no?" Kevin smirked. "You don't know Biff like I do. If you take that girl away from him, it's going to be like taking a slab of meat away from a feral dog. Biff's bound to do something idiotic that will make things worse than they are right now. No, we have to get them away from here as fast as possible, and wait for him to tire of his new toy." He turned to stare out the window, thinking. "My cousin's been itching to get his hands on a girl with a boyfriend or something," he continued, almost to himself. "He's always been heavy into NTR." He chuckled at everyone's look of incomprehension. "Never mind. Point is, Biff's bound to want to send this Daniel fellow stuff. Videos, pictures, anything to get the guy seeing red." "Actually, we've been seeing a lot of traffic -- big traffic -- going through Biff's account on our mail server," said Bernie. "What?" "The files were too big to pass through," continued Bernie. "Videos, I think. Our server did not deliver them and put them in an off-line queue. They're waiting for delivery approval. I've been meaning to ask you about this to see what you wanted me to do." "Keep them from going out. But don't tell Biff. While you're at it, can you put in a filter on his email so that nothing gets through by default? I want to control what he sends out. I don't want his big paws messing things up. No point making things worse. If we're lucky, we can maybe contain this mess." "We need to take care of the police, the university, all her friends that are looking for her, and of course, her fiance," mused Nils, who was taking notes on his pad. "I'll deal with the police," said Kevin. "As for the friends and the university, once we find them we can have the girl get in touch with everyone and say she's okay and that's she's taking a leave of absence for the rest of the semester. Easy enough. As for the fiance... Well, she's already told him that she was leaving him, right? Gave him back his engagement ring? He needs some time to get over it, especially if everyone around him knows that she's left him and that she's okay." "Maybe we can offer him a deal," Bernie suggested. "You know, bring him into the fold. Free pussy, works every time." Jackson shook his head. "Won't work. The guy's lined up a job in civics and community consulting. His ethics would not mesh well with any of this. Plus it'll just confirm that Biff pulled a fast one on Jenn." "Fucking bleeding-heart leftie," mumbled Bernie. "We don't need to bring him to our side," said Kevin, "we just need to keep him quiet, make sure he doesn't cause too much of a fuss while he recovers from his girlfriend leaving him. You said he knew two of our girls? Maybe we can use one of them to distract him. We learn what he likes, what he dislikes, what his kinks are, his fantasies, his darkest desires, and send him a girl that can play with that information and take his mind off his loss." "Maybe," said Jackson. He was thinking about Cindy, how she felt about Daniel. She would not need a lot of guidance. Kevin looked at Jackson. "Jackson, you take care of it. I know you're new, so view this as a test of sorts. The frat will remember your help. I know it's a lot of responsibilities that I am putting on your shoulders. But I have faith in you." "You want me to figure out a way to keep Daniel distracted?" "Whatever it takes. I want him to stop looking for his fiancee." Jackson gulped, then nodded. Kevin's stare stayed on him as if gauging his commitment, then he stood up. "Okay. I take care of Biff and the police. Bernie, you set up the filter on my cousin's email account. Nils, you find the piece of shit who helped Biff sneak around and ensnare his new toy. Let's manage this before it does become a cluster fuck, people. Otherwise, heads will roll." He made for the exit, but he stopped. "Which girls do we have in the house right now?" Nils thought for a second. "We should have a couple of them around on maid duty." He checked his pad. "Right. Serena, and Kyra." "Great." Kevin stretched. "I gotta work out some of this tension. Send them to the rec room." Jackson stiffened at the mention of Kyra. Kevin noticed. "You got a problem with that, Jackson?" The stare was hard. "No. No problem." "Glad to hear it." He left. Nils followed suit quickly. Bernie stood up to leave as well, looking pale. "Bernie," said Jackson. "I know it was you who helped Biff program Jenn." Bernie turned slowly. He shook his head. "No way, man. Had nothing to do with it. As Kevin said, it'd be a real dumb thing to do anyways." "Daniel told me that he caught Biff talking on the phone to someone about doing some additional programming, and Biff used your name, Bernie. So unless there's another Bernie that Biff could have called..." Bernie laughed nervously. "Come on, man, you know Biff. Always trying to get other people in trouble." "Right. Look, this is going to be bad, Bernie. Real bad. You got to fix this before we all get in trouble. We need to find Jenn and get rid of the programming. If Biff throws a fit, then we'll deal with it. Tell me what you did to her." Bernie looked at Jackson for a long time. Then his shoulders slumped. "I had no choice, man, Biff can be very... persuasive, when he wants to be. So he told me to bring her here, and to program her. And he wanted something special, a modification of the usual program. He wanted something that would tie her to him exclusively. Easy enough. But he also wanted a program that would keep her activated all the time, not just when you said her trigger sentence. We had a girl like that last semester, Marjorie. The doc had her program stored in the lab, and I fiddled with it a little bit to fit Biff's requirements. I mean, it was all very experimental. I'm not sure how stable the programming is. And it took me two passes too -- a first one for the basic programming, right here in the lab, and the second with only some drugs and electric stimulation. That second time was the last time I saw either of them. And I told him that I didn't want anything to do with it anymore. I don't know where they are -- I swear I'm telling you the truth." Bernie ran his hand through his hair. "Fuck, I've been avoiding my classes all week, trying to stay away form that Daniel guy, who's been looking for me. I guess that's how he got my name then, overhead Biff on one of those times when he talked to me on the phone." "You gotta fix this, Bernie. Before someone really gets hurt. Can you reverse the programming?" "Sure. Give me some time with her in the lab, and I can set her back up right as rain." * * * An hour later, Kevin was leaning back agiain one of the huge reclining chairs of the rec room when his phone rang. Before him, sprawled on the ground, was Kyra, the lithe pixie-haired redhead whom he had just fucked. Between her legs, busily eating her out, and along the way also cleaning out the overflowing semen from her pussy was the black reporter, Serena. He liked her, a lot. Not only did she have a killer body, with nice curves and killer breasts, but in contrast with Kyra, who had a submissive streak, Serena was a dominant through and through. Which made dominating her so much more fun. He had not spent as much time with Serena as he should have, he had come to realize. The girl was special. The two girls had shown up wearing their diminutive maid uniforms, which were nothing less than a pervert's version of a French maid costume -- a short black dress, with a plunging neckline and a widening skirt barely reaching the upper thigh, exposing legs sheathed in black fishnet stockings. Tall black heels, a velvet choker, and a little white hat completed the picture. Maid duty was very popular with the brothers, and while it did sometimes lead to some actual cleaning, it was mostly an opportunity to ogle, fondle, and ultimately fuck the girls on duty. Kevin had them strip each other once they got in, taking off each other's uniform amidst caresses and licks and kisses. He had watched the show, a vodka on the rocks in his hand, warming up slowly to the scene. Once the girls were naked and properly aroused, he had them both kneel at his feet and give him a blow job, during which he savored having them kiss each other around his cock, their naked breasts rubbing together. Serena's technique was sloppy -- the girl had mad oral skills -- and Kevin had gotten a kick out of watching Kyra lick up the drool from the other girl's face before diving onto his cock herself while Serena was sucking on one of her nipples. When they had brought him to the point where he was ready to explode, he had stopped them and told them to make out with each other while he watched them some more. The two girls had started kissing down on the floor, one on top of the other, naked, flawless body rubbing against flawless body, Serena taking the lead and aggressively kissing and groping the lithe redhead. After a while he had told the girls to separate, and sent Serena over to a pile of cushions on one side of the rec room. He had looked her in the eyes. "Serena. You will lie down there looking at me fuck this little slut, and you will finger yourself, getting more and more aroused, but you won't be able to come. You get that? It will turn you on like mad to see us, but you will not get any release. The itch, the desire to feel a cock inside you, plowing you deep, hard, will get overwhelming. But you won't be able to make yourself come." Serena had been looking at him, without speaking, her programming ensuring that his statements were orders. He had noticed a small tremor course through her, and he could imagine that she had already started to feel lust nipping at her heels. He had continued. "I am not cruel, though. You will be allowed to come. Eventually. When, and only when, you feel a cock spurting deep in that round ass of yours. You get that?" Serena had nodded. "I will only come when I feel a cock spurting deep in my ass. Sir." "Serena, what did I tell you to call me?" "I'm sorry. Mister President. I will only come when I feel a cock spurting deep in my ass, Mister President." "Better. Do you like being ass-fucked, Serena?" She had nodded. "I do, Mister President. I love it when a big cock splits my ass open. It makes me feel so dirty. And the brothers love my ass so much, Mister President, they're always trying to flip me over and pull my ass up and they make me beg for them to ream me out like a whore. Do you want to see, Mister President? Do you want to see what I look like when I'm offering my ass to a real man?" Kevin had snickered. "Ah! Nice try. I see what you're doing there. You love taking control, don't you? Don't worry, I'll fuck that tight ass of yours. But until then, you get those fingers of yours playing. I want to see you going out of your mind with lust. And not a word. I don't want you to say another word. And you," he had turned to Kyra, "spread those legs and get ready to welcome me." "Of course, Mister President," Kyra had replied, in a small voice. The redhead, without ever standing up, had gone down on her hands and knees and had walked towards a set of cushions arranged on the floor. Kevin had eyed her ass the whole way, an ass that begged to be abused, small and tight compared to Serena's more generous expanse of flesh. Kyra had undoubtedly thought about the effect the view would have on him, because she had imparted an exaggerated sway to her rear as she went to the designated spot. When she had reached it, she had flipped down onto her back, and she had spread those long delightful legs of hers, a hand sneaking its way down to her bald pussy. Kevin had looked at her, then at Serena, who was sitting on cushions a bit further down, her own legs spread, her own fingers busily thrusting in and out of her pussy, her other hand squeezing one of her breasts, looking at Kyra down on the floor offering herself. But Kevin had wanted more. He had moved to stand over Kyra, idly stroking his hard cock, still glistening with the saliva of the two girls. "Kyra," he had addressed the red-haired girl at his feet, "you look like a cock-hungry slut like that -- is that what you want? A hard cock inside you?" Kyra had moaned, her finger obviously playing with her clit, rubbing in energetic circles. "God yes!" she had said, "I want to feel your cock inside me, Mister President. I want to feel you fill me up, shove your cock deep inside, fuck me like the cock-hungry slut that I am." "What if I want to take you hard, Kyra? What if I want to feed you my cock hard, fast, without any consideration for you? What if I wanted to bite your tits? Slap your face? Rape your ass? You have such a tight hole down there, for sure, so it's going to hurt if I just shove inside without prep. You still want to be fucked like a cock-hungry slut?" "Use me any way you want, Mister President," she had moaned. "All my holes are yours. Fuck any of them, however you want -- my cunt, my ass, my mouth. Don't think about me, just take your pleasure. I'm your little cum dump -- oh fuck! --" She had been interrupted by Kevin dropping down between her legs and shoving his cock into her in one hard stroke, fast, deep. Kyra's eyes had flown open, her mouth freezing in a large O, and she had come, just like that, with Kevin's cock embedded inside her. She had clutched at his shoulders, shivers wracking up her body, her pussy squirming and twisting on his shaft. Kevin had grinned, and had spied Serena from the corner of his eye, playing with herself but unable to come on her own because of his order and watching her play mate overwhelmed by a giant orgasm, envy visible on her face. Mind games -- Kevin loved them. He had proceeded to fuck Kyra thoroughly, thrusting with force into the redhead, his eyes trained on Serena the whole time, ordering her to pinch her nipples and squeeze her breasts and suck on her fingers and shove them in her pussy and her ass, and Serena had done it all, because she had been ordered to, and because keeping Kevin happy was the way for her to get what she craved at that point, namely release. Kevin had rutted himself to the brink of orgasm after a good twenty minutes of alternatively fucking Kyra hard and lying back and letting her do all the work by riding him. Kyra had come three more times in that period, loud orgasms that had her screaming and grabbing her breasts and generally making a spectacle of herself. Kevin, not for the first time, had thought that perhaps he ought to be taping these sessions. The idea of using such tapes to blackmail a girl like Kyra -- threatening to release those tapes to her family, say -- and getting her to fuck him not under any sort of control but of her own volition, so to speak, had an attraction all of its own. And, again not for the first time, he had vetoed the idea as too risky. But the thought had its effect, and he had pushed harder into the tight body underneath him, and he had come, pressing hard against her groin, trying to embed himself as deep inside her as he could, spewing a copious load that had sent the redhead down the path of yet another orgasm, punctuated by the moans of a horny Serena still madly frigging herself. Spent, he had pulled out of Kyra, who had collapsed on the ground, perfect body spread out, damp with sweat. He had walked to a corner of the room, his softening cock bouncing with every step, and collapsed in the reclining chair. He had ordered Serena to go and clean up the exhausted redhead with her mouth. Serena had obeyed, and that was the show that Kevin was admiring when his phone rang. He recognized the ring tone. Nils. He reached for his cell phone. "Nils -- hold on one sec." He was on the side of the room with the sex toys. He picked one up -- a strap-on dildo, with a huge ebony rubber cock. "Serena," he said to the black girl, "use this." He tossed the dildo to Serena, who caught it. Kevin gestured to Kyra, still sprawled on the ground. "Go ahead, fuck her. Fuck her good, and I'll fuck you right back, in that tight snatch of yours." Serena groaned, while she tied the strap-on about her waist and tightened the straps between her legs. "And if you're very good, I'll even stuff my cock deep in your ass." Serena practically swooned at that, and pushed a finger inside her pussy, doubling over at the sensation. "Stop that," barked Kevin. "No touching yourself until you've ruined that slut right there on the floor." Serena obeyed, stepped to the spent Kyra, the dildo strapped about her waist bobbing up and down with every step. It was a monstrosity, large, black, with raised veins giving it a threatening look. Kevin idly wondered whether it would in fact fit inside Kyra's arguably tight hole. It would be interesting to see. "Nils, sorry about that. Give me good news." "I'm afraid I don't have good news for you. The CCTV videos for the lab entrance have been deleted. The drives have been wiped clean." Serena knelt between Kyra's legs, and ran her hand down the redhead's body, who shivered at the touch, and arched her back to get Serena's hand to press harder. When Serena reached Kyra's thighs, she pulled the girl's legs apart, and leaned down to kiss her, a slow kiss that soon turned into a passionate exchange, Kyra raising her legs and wrapping them about the black girl's waist, her hands roaming her back. "Fuck," said Kevin. "Who's in charge of the system?" "Bernie. And aside from you and I, no one else has access to the security subsystem." Serena pushed with her hips, hard. Kyra screamed. Serena smothered the scream with a deep kiss. "Bernie," repeated Kevin, "who also has access to the lab and learned how to program girls with the doctor. Find him. Find him and restrain him. Call me when you do." He slammed the phone shut, fuming. Serena thrust deeply into Kyra, who was trashing under her, moaning and groaning and enjoying herself greatly. The two girls kissed and rubbed themselves against each other, their breasts sliding over each other's, legs pushing against legs. It was a delicious sight, and Kevin was not indifferent to it, despite his anger at Bernie -- and indeed, his cock was hardening, his gaze directed at Serena's round ass thrusting back and forth between the redhead's legs. Serena turned to look at him. She was aroused, saw Kevin, driven crazy with lust by not being able to find release. The strap-on was pressing on her clit, he knew, and sending pleasurable thrills through her body, but she was still under the impetus not to orgasm. He pointed to Kyra. "Turn her around. Fuck her ass. Fuck her ass like you want me to fuck yours. Make her scream." Serena immediately pulled out of Kyra, the lithe redhead whimpering at the loss of the hard rubber shaft that had given her so much pleasure, then she went on her hands and knees and presented her ass to the black girl. Serena wasted no time and pressed the head of the dildo on the redhead's asshole and pushed. Kyra screamed, but did not move away. One of her hands shot to her crotch, and she started rubbing her clit. Serena pressed harder and eventually broke through the tight sphincter, eliciting another scream from Kyra, who rubbed herself faster, her scream turning into moans of frenzied lust. Kevin shook his head. His instructions to Kyra had given her lots of leeway to enjoy herself. He minded less than he though he would have. The sight before him was hot either way. He watched Serena fuck the redhead for several minutes, the strain clear on her face, perspiration running down her long body. He admired Kyra's lean form rocked back and forth by the thrusts of the black girl, her small breasts swinging enticingly, her eyes closed, her mouth open and gasping loudly whenever the dildo bottomed out. She came at least twice during that part of the act. Kevin stood. He was ready. His mind was clear, his anger at the situation with his cousin and this Malcolm guy and now Bernie having shifted into lust. Now all it took was a good release, and it would all be flushed away. Sex as therapy. Sometimes the old ways are the best, he thought. And he knew just how to effect that blessed release. He took position behind Serena, admiring the rear of the beautiful girl thrusting forth into Kyra, her cheeks taut with effort. He ran a hand on the soft skin of the buttocks. He trailed a finger down following the inward curve with a finger, gently teasing the winking rosebud nestled there. Serena groaned and pushed her ass back towards the sensation, conditioned to seek satisfaction through her rear opening, but equally compelled to fuck Kyra and therefore having to thrust back into the continuously orgasming redhead. Serena knew Serena would get no satisfaction that way, yet she was unable to act differently. Fully erect, Kevin lined himself up with the thrusting Serena, and in one smooth stroke buried himself deep into the black girl's ass, pushing her even deeper into the redhead's own ass. Kyra groaned loudly, and came again, and it must have burned Serena to give Kyra exactly the pleasure that was denied her. Kevin loved the feeling of being deep inside Serena's ass, her tight hole squeezing him rhythmically. He pulled out and pushed again, timing himself with Serena's own thrusts, holding on to the girl's hips for leverage. He fucked her that way for a long time, sometimes reaching around to grab and squeeze her large breasts, or tweak her nipples, pulling on them or twisting them, rejoicing in her gasps. When he felt close to coming again, he considered pulling out and spewing his load on Serena's back. He loved the idea of leaving the black girl horny and unsatisfied. Then a nasty smile lit up his face. He pulled out of Serena, forcing a groan of disappointment out of the horny black girl, and after grasping her hips pulled her out of Kyra. Serena fell back, the rubber dildo thumping against her stomach, while Kyra gasped at her sudden feeling of emptiness. That feeling of emptiness did not last long because Kevin thrust his cock into Kyra's rear, just vacated by Serena's oversized dildo. Kevin's cock sank in easily, the opening having been properly widened, yet the redhead's asshole squeezed him fiercely, and it took but two thrusts into her burning tunnel for him to explode, shouting out, looking into Serena's eyes the whole time, drinking in the girl's desperate need. Still fully embedded in the twitching redhead, Kevin nodded to the black girl. "Maybe next time, you're gonna be good enough to deserve getting it up your own ass. But not today. You're a smart girl, you'll eventually figure out what I want from you." He pulled out of Kyra, who collapsed to the ground, exhausted through too many orgasms. "Now, you get to clean my cock. Come on, get your whore mouth down here, and when you're done you can suck my load out of this little slut's ass. I'm sure you can make her come again with that talented tongue of yours." Kevin lay back as the horny unsatisfied girl crawled over to him, and let relaxation wash over him. * * * Kevin received the call as he was making his way back to his office, much calmer than before, the two girls having suitably satiated his hunger. Kyra certainly would need some time to recover, and Serena would be unable to find release until either her activation ran out, or until another brother used her. "We found Bernie. You're not going to like it," Nils said, his voice garbled because of bad reception. "I'm already not liking it. Bring him up to my office." "You probably should come down here instead." "Why? Where are you?" "Downstairs. The lab." Keving's mood had soured at the disruption. It was not improved by what he found when he arrived in the laboratory ten minutes later. Nils and a younger brother -- the latter looking slightly green -- were standing by a chair, silent. In the chair was Bernie. He was naked. He was motionless. He was dead. His wrists and ankles were tied to the arms and legs of the chair with zipcuffs. Kevin found it difficult to swallow as he looked him over. Bernie's entire body was criss-crossed with cuts, each five to six inches long, the blood from each dripping down and pooling in the seat of the chair and on the floor. A wide slash at his throat, so deep it looked to Kevin as if someone had tried to decapitate Bernie, contributed to that pool of blood. More blood came from Bernie's crotch, and Kevin felt a wave of nausea when he saw not only that Bernie's dick had been loped off, but that it had been shoved in his mouth. Nils looked imperturbable as ever. Kevin knew his vice-president had done some military service in his native Norway before coming to the States for a graduate degree, and undoubtedly he had witnessed gruesome scenes before. "The throat slash seems to be what killed him, and seems to have been the last wound that was inflicted." Kevin looked at Nils, frowning. "You mean...?" "Yes, everything else most likely was done when he was still alive. His penis was cut off and stuffed down his throat -- if you look closely you can see it was nicked by the blade when the neck was cut." Kevin was willing to take the Norwegian's word for it. "I'd really like to see the blade that did this," continued Nils. "Must be a beauty. Nice clean cuts, both the superficial ones, and the killing one. The guy who did this was an artist." Kevin thought he detected a note of admiration in Nils' tone. "Why all these cuts?" "If I had to guess, I'd say Bernie was tortured. And if I read the throat slash correctly, Bernie was tortured for information. Symbolically, his throat was cut when he had said everything he had to say." "And the penis thing?" Nils did not know. "Who did this?" asked Kevin. "And why?" It was a rhetorical question. Kevin looked around at the equipment in the doctor's laboratory, the computers, the notes scattered around. It could not have been a coincidence that Bernie was taken and questioned here. Nils chimed in. "Whomever he was, he was a professional. And it looks like he accessed the computer as well. Bernie probably provided him access." Kevin nodded. It made sense. The doctor had been worried that his previous employers -- from whom he had been running away -- might track him down, and he had made it exceedingly clear that they were dangerous. He had been unwilling to provide more details, despite Kevin's insistence. This must be their handiwork. Someone was looking for the doctor, tracking him all the way to the frat house. And found Bernie instead. What did Bernie tell him? "We may know more once the police looks this over," continued Nils. "No cops. The police chief is already twitchy enough as it is. Who knows how he'll react to this. No, we're keeping this quiet. Come night, get rid of the body. I don't care how, but make it look like an accident. I trust you." "You sure that's wise?" "No. But it's the best I can come up with right now. Until we learn more about who we're dealing with, we're playing this one close to the chest. I can only hope we can resolve this like civilized people." Nils' look of dubiousness echoed Kevin's feeling perfectly. The situation was now officially a cluster fuck.

<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/strict.dtd"> <html> <head> <!--ADULTSONLY--> <meta name="shs-author" content="Bulgroz The Third"> <meta name="shs-title" content="The Adjusters #3 The Spirited Flesh"> <meta name="shs-keywords" content="MF, mc"> <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> <link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Domine' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="b3.css"> <title>The Adjusters #3 The Spirited Flesh</title> </head> <body> <div class="text"> <p class="ct"><b>THE ADJUSTERS</b></p> <p class="ct"><br></p> <p class="ct"><b>3</b></p> <p class="ct"><b>The Spirited Flesh</b></p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="cb">“Come on Radhu, why don’t you ask her out, already? Especially now, she’s been dumped, she’s alone, tired, depressed, in need of a man’s support and affection—”</p> <p class="cb">“Depressed? Needing a man’s support? Are we perchance referring to the same person? Serena, cheerful independent dominant Serena?” Radhu was, as was his habit, deadpan.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel shrugged. “Okay, so I’m exaggerating somewhat. My point remains. You should ask her out.”</p> <p class="cb">“You have made no point Daniel, you merely insist on repeating the same question. I have told you several times already: I have a plan.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel and Radhu were walking towards High Street, in the chilly autumn night, several steps behind Serena who was walking at a brisk pace while talking in animated gestures on her cell phone.</p> <p class="cb">“Right, your plan. Let’s talk about your plan. What sort of plan is it, Machiavelli? Do you intend to wow her with your stoicism?”</p> <p class="cb">Radhu did no dignify the barb with an answer. Daniel laughed and patted his friend on the back, intent on showing that he was not serious.</p> <p class="cb">“Okay,” he said, “okay, you’re off the hook for now. But I hate to see you sad, and while I don’t know for sure you two are actually good for each other, I’m worried that if you don’t give it a try you’ll just stew in unrequited lust until you get all rubbery.”</p> <p class="cb">“Perhaps I enjoy being rubbery.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel nodded, but said nothing. Any opportunity for further discussion was dashed by Serena finishing her conversation and urging them on to walk faster.</p> <p class="cb">They reached High Street and soon were standing in front of the Spirited Flesh, one of the few strip clubs in the area, and certainly the better known. Established a little more than ten years earlier amidst screams of outrage by residents and various conservative advocates, it hovered right beyond the zoning limits of the main college area. There had been much discussion about the negative impact of such an “amoral and disgraceful establishment” on the impressionable minds of the student population, but in the end the Chamber of Commerce approved the plan by the owners to refurbish an old disaffected bar on High Street that had been an eye sore for so long.</p> <p class="cb">As it was the middle of the week, the entrance of The Spirited Flesh was quiet. Not that there were lines even at the height of business late on Friday and Saturday nights, but at least people would be coming in and out. Not today, though, possibly because of the cold that forced the three musketeers to pull up their collars and pull in their necks. Even the bouncer was nowhere to be seen. The only indication that the club was open was an illuminated neon sign above the door, spelling out the name of the club with a curved line suggesting a woman’s outline. It was surprisingly tasteful. Serena, Radhu, and Daniel opened the door of the club and went inside.</p> <p class="cb">The bouncer was in the entranceway, a mass of muscle leaning against the wall. He looked bored, and barely gave them a glance, although his gaze lingered over Serena in an obvious head-to-toe sweep that said much about what he liked. That she was wearing casual clothes that did not especially emphasize her natural curves did not seem to deter him as he stood leering at Serena’s backside when the three friends filed in front of him. He never bothered to check any identification.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel had been to The Spirited Flesh a few times before with fellow students for the occasional birthday celebration. He had found the club decent as far as strip clubs went. The lighting was subdued, leaving the large main area, which was littered with tables strewn around a small dance floor, in a darkened half-light. The main stage was bathed in the colored glow of a battery of projectors. The club was kept clean, and there was an evident attempt at class.</p> <p class="cb">The club was more crowded than they had expected. Most patrons where drinking and paying attention to the stage, where three girls dressed in next to nothing—thongs and G-strings and heels—were strutting around doing what they did best around three illuminated poles. Daniel paused to admire them, noting that they were exactly the kind of girls he found attractive. They were thin, long-limbed, long-haired, with large breasts and tight bubble butts. Like Jenn, he thought, and a fleeting image of his girlfriend up on the stage stripping sprang up in his mind without any provocation. Disturbed, he turned his attention to the rest of the club, where girls barely more dressed than the on-stage dancers were making the rounds, some going to tables offering dances, while others served drinks, the distinction between dancers and waitresses sometimes difficult to make. On his previous visits, Daniel had always had the distinct impression that by slipping a fifty to one of the waitresses she would have happily guided him to one of the private back rooms and given him a lap dance. And those waitresses, in their tiny outfits straight out of the mind of a perverted Halloween costume designer’s, were beautiful specimen of womanhood. Not for the first time, Daniel wondered where the club found such women. Their little town seemed hardly to have the requisite population to support such beauty in such abundance.</p> <p class="cb">Serena waved to someone sitting at a table, a young man with a pleasantly retro Van Halen tee shirt, and she and Radhu and Daniel headed that way, weaving around half-inebriated patrons. Presentations were made, and Daniel learned that Shawn—he of the Van Halen tee shirt—was a Media Studies major, and collaborated on many of Serena’s projects for the paper. Daniel wondered if Serena had slept with him. He was not really her style.</p> <p class="cb">“Shawn, where’s Marjorie?” asked Serena. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the music.</p> <p class="cb">“I don’t know. I was told she was here but I haven’t seen her yet. I’ve been looking, but much of the rooms in the back are for VIPs, and strangely enough I don’t qualify.” The rueful smile on his face revealed how young he was, and Daniel wondered for a moment whether he was old enough to even be there.</p> <p class="cb">“I guess I should go and ask around then,” said Serena.</p> <p class="cb">“What can I get you folks?” The voice was soft and warm, and everyone at the table turned to the beautiful girl holding a tray that had appeared behind them. Daniel smiled at seeing Radhu lose his composure, something that ever only happened in the presence of a beautiful woman, of which their waitress was indubitably a perfect example. She was waiting for their answer in a pose that left little to the imagination, a naked leg thrust forward, a hand resting on the jutting hipbone. </p> <p class="cb">“A Guinness, please. Do you have it on tap?” asked Daniel.</p> <p class="cb">“Sure,” she smiled, and Daniel could not help but respond in kind. </p> <p class="cb">“Excuse me,” interrupted Serena. “Do you know a Marjorie Duquesne?”</p> <p class="cb">The waitress made a show to think for a moment, then shook her head. “Nope, sorry. What are you drinking?” she asked turning to the other boys.</p> <p class="cb">Van Halen asked for a shot of vodka mixed with some random energy drink, and Radhu, who had recovered a semblance of dignity, managed to produce the words necessary to order a martini before Serena interrupted once again.</p> <p class="cb">“Are you sure? About way high, skinny, long black hair, beautiful, and—”</p> <p class="cb">“Listen, honey, take a look around. All the girls here are skinny and beautiful. And they come and they go and I don’t have the time or the energy to learn their name, let alone remember them. So please just tell me what you are going to drink and let me do my job.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena reluctantly ordered a Diet Coke, much to the silent disapproval of the waitress, who left after sliding a glance towards Daniel punctuated by a wink that seemed to send a charge directly to his cock. Okay, she was good, he thought. He eyed Radhu, who clearly was thinking along similar lines.</p> <p class="cb">“Well that was unhelpful,” mumbled Serena.</p> <p class="cb">“I don’t know,” said Radhu. “She sounded very nice.”</p> <p class="cb">Before Serena could follow her disgusted look with a verbal tirade of equivalent intensity, they were interrupted by the lights dimming rapidly, with only a single spotlight shining on the main stage, and by the booming voice of the DJ.</p> <p class="cb">“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Spirited Flesh. It is our great pleasure tonight to present to you one of our newest and already most popular girl, the boner-inducing, bottom-squirming, pussy-juicing MD!”</p> <p class="cb">The crowd went wild. Amidst the hooting and the catcalls, a slow bass-heavy music arose while the lights dimmed further and artificial fog spread across the stage. A shape emerged from the shadows. MD, as it was certainly her, was creeping around slowly, the way cartoon characters did when they tried to be stealthy, a look of intense concentration discernible on her face despite the distance and the darkness. She was wearing what could best be described as an Amazonian rain forest explorer costume, or perhaps a safari rider costume—Daniel could not really tell. Details aside, the costume was covering all of her small frame from head to toe, and her hair was trapped under an eggshell explorer hat. A gigantic camera of the kind not used since the late nineteen sixties was strapped around her neck. The only thing vaguely out of place was the pair of high-heeled boots she was wearing.</p> <p class="cb">As she labored to tip-toe around the stage, she playfully brought a finger to her lips and shushed the audience, who gleefully responded by shushing back at her. The music, still slow and throbbing, reminded Daniel of the African drumbeats one often heard in movies, a stereotype that fit into the scene playing out on the stage to perfection.</p> <p class="cb">“Marjorie,” said Serena. She shouted at the stage. “Marjorie!” People at nearby tables turned to look at her, and Daniel could see bouncers eyeing their table with suspicion. </p> <p class="cb">“Serena, we’ll get kicked out if you continue.”</p> <p class="cb">“It’s her, I’m sure.”</p> <p class="cb">Van Halen spoke up. “Guess we found her, then. What is she doing up there, though?”</p> <p class="cb">Before Serena or anyone else could venture a guess, the music picked up in a crescendo, while Marjorie—MD—looked around with exaggerated worry. Out of the shadows, six large black men jumped into the lighted area, dressed like African natives, naked but for a rough loincloth, muscular bodies glistening with oil or sweat, and incongruously also equipped with cameras around their neck.</p> <p class="cb">MD jumped and tried to run away, but she was surrounded. Before she could do anything else, the six men, each much bigger than she was, started slowly circling her in time with the music, which had picked up a definite stalking beat. When she reached down for her camera, the six men reached for theirs first, lifted them to their faces and, still circling the trapped explorer, unleashed a torrent of flashes that played out like a stroboscopic show.</p> <p class="cb">Then things got interesting. MD tried to protect herself form the photographic assault but she failed and, after a while, started dancing, at first slowly, then more and more wildly. She twisted and shimmied, her hands running all over her still completely covered body, all the while catching the eyes of the six black men surrounding her. She lifted her hands to her head and flipped off her hat, sending a long stream of dark straight hair flying in waves about her. Upon seeing that the men surrounding her redoubled their photographic efforts, and amidst more flashes, MD simply unleashed, much to the joy of the audience whose claps had picked up the rhythm of the music.</p> <p class="cb">Acting as though the flashes were shots of aphrodisiac, MD danced and stripped, in a routine that Daniel, along with the rest of the crowd if he was any judge, found very effective. In short order, she had gotten rid of her top, leaving her in a tiny bra that did very little to contain her abundant cleavage, then her pants went flying, to the crowd’s delight. Clad in what amounted to a bikini along with her omnipresent knee-high boots, MD strutted around the stage pursued by the mob of camera-carrying black dancers, dancing and running her hands over a body that Daniel had to appreciate. MD was short, and while her body curvier than he usually enjoyed, she was undeniably hot, and as he had mentioned to Jenn earlier that day, she had a perfect pair of legs. </p> <p class="cb">One of the black men on the stage moved behind MD, dancing along with her in a nicely choreographed routine. He eventually reached out and unhooked and pulled off MD’s bra, and she immediately covered her breasts and acted like something both awful and exciting had happened. The audience cheered, and the rest of the men circling around MD sent their cameras flashing at a frenzied pace. MD looked like she was cornered by insane paparazzi.</p> <p class="cb">The audience was demanding to see MD’s breasts, and the men circling her pounced. Two of them grabbed her forearms and pulled her arms away from her body, holding them up. MD was trapped on the stage, and she wiggled her body, showing it off to the leering crowd, her breasts sitting high on her chest with all the perkiness of youth, her hard nipples painted bright red.</p> <p class="cb">The dancers with the cameras got closer and more flashes erupted. MD went crazy, at first shying away from the flashes but eventually succumbing to some uncontrollable impulse and she twisted her body to face the lenses, pushing her chest out, smiling broadly. The men holding her arms let go, and her hands flew to her breasts, squeezing and grabbing and pinching, while she danced.</p> <p class="cb">She strutted around the stage once more, offering her breasts to the audience, who could not get enough. She turned to one of the men who was trailing her with a camera, hooked her arms around his neck, then thrust her breasts in his face, humping him with her lower body in time with the music. MD kissed the man hard on the mouth and it was hard to deny that they were making out on the stage, in front of everyone. The other men on the stage circled again, snapping pictures of the rutting couple.</p> <p class="cb">MD broke it up after a few minutes of frenzied kissing, but then repeated the whole routine with another dancer, then another, then another. </p> <p class="cb">The audience wanted more. MD pushed her last partner away, then sank to the floor of the stage to work through a choreographed routine that involved a mix of her lying on her back with her legs in the air, caressing them and offering them to the men, and her on her hands and knees thrusting a barely covered ass at the audience, crawling about doing her best to titillate the increasingly noisy spectators. Daniel worried that they might stampede onto the stage, but the enforcers that the club employed did their job well and no patron got overly enthusiastic. MD was doing a phenomenal job herself, and Daniel was not surprised that she was one of the favorites.</p> <p class="cb">MD finished a last round around the stage on all fours, like a panther on the prowl, breasts swinging, and approached one of the dancers who had put his camera down and was motioning for her to get closer. He grabbed her by the shoulder when she was close enough, pulled her to her knees and, bending low, kissed her. She immediately hooked her arms around his neck, bent back, and melted into the kiss, swaying her hips enticingly. The rest of the men kept on circling around them, taking pictures.</p> <p class="cb">The man kissing MD then went down on one knee and started kissing and mauling her breasts, while MD threw her head back in apparent ecstasy. Was she faking? wondered Daniel. If so, it was an Oscar-worthy performance. MD looked like she was thoroughly aroused, and kept herself from pouncing on the man before her only through sheer effort of will.</p> <p class="cb">The man lavishing attention to her chest moved away, only to be replaced by another, who had the added distinction of being naked. His loincloth was gone, and his cock was hard and pointing straight at MD who eyed it with an almost transfixed expression on her face. All the men on the stage were as a matter of fact naked by that point, Daniel realized, and had thrown away their cameras. All were stroking their cock with energy, although they had no expression on their face. They were all exceedingly well endowed, in both length and girth, playing up the myth of the Black Man to its fullest. </p> <p class="cb">The man in front of MD got closer, and proceeded to slap his cock in her face, lightly at first then more forcefully. MD tried to catch the swinging cock with her mouth. The man straightened MD up, pushed her breasts together, and shoved his cock in the resulting pocket and slowly fucked her breasts, throwing his head back in a ritualized expression of pleasure. MD helped him keep her breasts pressed together, pushing her body up and down to increase friction, all in time with the music.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel exchanged a look with his friends around the table, thinking that this was by far the most explicit strip show that he had ever heard of. Serena was watching with a frown, taking in everything as the reporter that she was, although the flush in her cheeks suggested that she was not completely immune to the erotic nature of the event. Radhu and Van Halen were watching with a more amazed expression that did not surprise Daniel in the least.</p> <p class="cb">The man fucking MD’s breasts pushed her away, and she twisted in place before settling in front of another of the dancers who presented her with his own hard cock, which he unceremoniously pushed in her mouth. To the general clamor of the crowd, the show on the stage degenerated into a frenzy of lust. MD enthusiastically sucked off the man, going in deep and with gusto, jacking him off in counterpoint. Before he could come he was replaced by another, and before long MD was cycling through all the black dancers, fucking her face onto their cocks, in and out, spit flying all over the place, hair bouncing like a sheet in a storm, breasts swaying, legs straining.</p> <p class="cb">When she had sucked everyone twice, she was pushed back on her back, whereupon she crawled towards the edge of the stage, mouth open, tongue hanging, sucking the air and looking crazed, as if she was on the hunt for more cock to suck. The men nearest the stage were screaming at her that they had what she was looking for, that they had what she could stick down her throat and choke on, that they could fill her up like the slut that she was. MD looked at them hungrily. The air was charged with a buzz that verged on danger. Daniel was frightened by its intensity.</p> <p class="cb">But MD started dancing again, her movements lascivious as she ran her hands over her body, alternating between kneeling on the ground and lying on her back and standing and strutting in her tall heels. The men were standing in place in a wide semicircle, not quite dancing, but not quite motionless either, each keeping his cock hard by stroking it rhythmically.</p> <p class="cb">Two of the men broke rank to approach MD, and grabbed her arms, in a repeat of earlier. MD again struggled to free herself, but they resisted, spreading her arms and forcing her legs apart. Then the man that first fucked her breasts approached, slowly, and grabbed hold of MD’s skimpy panties. Marking a dramatic pause, he ripped them off with an abrupt jerk, and the audience cheered as MD was revealed in all her nakedness to their feasting eyes. She was completely shaved, her smooth snatch fully exposed, and Daniel could see the moisture on her slit from where he was sitting.</p> <p class="cb">The man who had ripped her panties off approached MD and ran his hands down her body, cupping a breast before reaching her crotch and then fingered and teased and tickled the poor girl, eventually dipping one then two fingers inside her as the audience chanted “fuck her, fuck her, fuck her.” MD closed her eyes, whether to avoid looking at what was being done to her or to bask in the sensations Daniel could not tell. The man pulled his fingers out of her pussy, made a big show of smelling them before presenting them to MD and pushing them into her mouth. She sucked on his two fingers like she had sucked on the cocks earlier, with utter abandon.</p> <p class="cb">The men holding her arms apart let her go just as the finger-fucking man took hold of MD and laid her down on the floor of the stage. She immediately spread her legs, lifting her ass off the floor, shoulders pressed down, as if she was reaching up to catch something with her pelvis. The man laid on top of her, supported himself on his strong arms, and together they mimed a couple fucking, the man rubbing his cock on MD’s belly, taut under the strain of the position she was holding. She writhed under him as if she was in the throes of passion, her hair spewed all over the floor of the stage. Then the man pushed himself off and another took his place. MD was moaning and groaning like a porn star, ass gyrating over the floor, as though she was meeting the thrusts of her partner. It went on like that for several minutes, a choreography of lovemaking perfectly executed to the music, man after man taking his place over the short asian rubbing against him. Some kissed her, and she responded with eagerness; some attacked her breasts, and others her neck.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel, finishing his pint of Guinness and debating whether to ask their cute waitress for another one, was again surprised that the club allowed a strip show to go that far. Which made the next move by the stage crew even more shocking.</p> <p class="cb">MD’s changing vocalizations were the first hint that something different was going on. She had been moaning and groaning loudly with almost comical exaggeration, but suddenly she gasped, and kept gasping and moaning in a much more heartfelt manner, as if she was unable to help herself as opposed to putting on a show. She was also grabbing her partner—the original finger-fucking man, as they had cycled through all the men already—around the neck holding on for dear life as he simulated plowing into her forcefully. It was only when Daniel looked carefully that he noted the angle between the man and MD and concluded that she was now being penetrated for real, that the man was thoroughly thrusting his large cock into her, pile-driving, fucking her right there before everyone. The audience must have come to the same realization at that point, because a huge cheer erupted, screams and chants punctuating every thrust of cock into cunt. The energy in the room was astonishing.</p> <p class="cb">Much like earlier, all the men on the stage took turns lying on top of MD and fucking her. All in the same plank position, with their arms supporting them and MD reaching up with her lower body, her legs spread, her feet planted on the ground for leverage, holding on to their necks, taking in the brunt of their assault with a humpf or a moan, almost drowned by the deafening noise of the audience and the music.</p> <p class="cb">None of the men had come, noted Daniel. Or at least, the cock they pulled out from MD when the time came to switch was still hard and bobbing menacingly when they returned to the semicircle.</p> <p class="cb">After another cycle through, MD was left alone center stage, and she did another floor routine, moving about with legs in the air, showing her now reddened pussy to the audience when she spread her legs and ran her fingers through her pussy lips.</p> <p class="cb">She went on all four, and made her way to one of the dancers in the semicircle, who made a show of rejecting her. Head down, she moved to another dancer to be greeted in the same way. And so it went, the audience on the edge of their seat to see who would take advantage of the girl and how, until the fifth man she accosted did not push her away. He grabbed her by the hair, and pulled her head to his cock, which she promptly swallowed to the audience’s roar of approval. The man pushed his cock deep inside MD’s mouth, as was clear by the strained clenching of his buttocks, and Daniel was amazed that she swallow that cock completely despite its size. And indeed, her nose was hitting the man’s abdomen, and she held the position for several seconds before pulling out, taking a deep breath, then plunging in again, sucking with all her might.</p> <p class="cb">As she was blowing the man before her, another sneaked behind her and lining himself up thrust into her, in a drawn out but unrelenting push. MD did not seem to notice, or rather her sucking seemed unaffected. When the man behind her started fucking her, at first slowly then more and more roughly, she seemed to struggle to maintain her sucking rhythm, but the man whose cock was ravishing her throat helpfully guided her head with his hands.</p> <p class="cb">And so it went. The man in her mouth soon exploded, pulling out before the deed, spewing his jism all over MD’s face and hair while she tried to catch it in her mouth. The man behind her pulled out as well, still hard, and went to take the place of the man that was just in MD’s mouth and she took his cock in her mouth as well and if she tasted herself on that new cock she did not seem to mind. The man who had just come went back to the semicircle of black dancers around MD, his softening cock still large. A new man from that semicircle took his place behind MD and pushed his cock into her.</p> <p class="cb">The gang bang continued for at least ten minutes, with a man fucking MD’s increasingly messy face until he came only to be replaced by the man that was fucking her from behind, himself replaced by a fresh man from the semicircle of naked men surrounding the place of honor.</p> <p class="cb">When they were all done, some having gone through twice, MD collapsed on the stage in a pool of sweat and cum, exhausted. The audience cheered and catcalled and volleyed darkly abusive epithets at her. She seemed oblivious to everything. The men in the semicircle slowly queued out, two of them staying behind to help the poor girl to her feet. She saluted the audience with a tired grin to thunderous applause before staggering offstage, supported by her two male companions. The audience took a while to calm down, barely mollified by three standard strippers that came onto the stage to perform their rather run-of-the-mill routines around the poles, amidst slow-dying chants of “MD! MD! MD!”</p> <p class="cb">“Well,” said Daniel, after a long silence during which everyone at the table tried to digest what they had just seen, “I didn’t know you could do that onstage in this state.”</p> <p class="cb">“You can’t,” added Serena, angrily. “And I can’t understand why Marjorie, of all people, is doing it. I have to talk to her. Come on.” She headed in the general direction of backstage, Van Halen jumping to follow her.</p> <p class="cb">“Radhu, man, are you okay?” Daniel was looking at his friend, who was starting at the stage with a lost look in his eyes.</p> <p class="cb">“Yes, yes, I’m fine. It’s simply... Wow... That was... That was hot. I did not know such shows could be so arousing.”</p> <p class="cb">“Most aren’t. This wasn’t your typical strip show. I think Serena’s right, something weird’s going on here. Come on, let’s go find her.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena was not difficult to locate. She was arguing rather loudly with a man twice her height and three times her weight with “bouncer” written all over his forehead and “limited patience” in smaller type just below that. </p> <p class="cb">“I’m sorry miss,” he was saying in a growly voice that belonged in a movie, “but I can’t let you in back there. It’s performers only.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena got closer, did her best doe eyes impression, and ran her hands down the tight shirt of the security man.</p> <p class="cb">“Sweetie,” she said, her tone dipping into registers that made men shiver—Daniel smiled unwittingly when he saw Radhu’s eyes almost pop out of his head, the poor boy getting way too much excitement that night—“how about if you let me inside to talk to my friend, I come and see you afterwards and we spend some quality time together, if you catch my drift. I’m sure I can find ways to entertain a big strong man like you. To be honest, the show we just saw kindda turned me on. And I can be very, very naughty when I’m turned on.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena had wrapped a leg around the security man, who blinked for a second when his gaze dropped down into the now revealing cleavage of Serena’s shirt.</p> <p class="cb">“Sorry miss, but I get all the tail I can possibly want here, and while you’re cute and I’d love to see what you look like under those clothes, not enough to lose my job over it. So scram.”</p> <p class="cb">Before Serena could say something to get them kicked out with extreme physical prejudice, Daniel piped up.</p> <p class="cb">“I’m so sorry we bothered you. We really just want to let MD know something important. Perhaps you would be willing to hand over a message to her? With a little something for your trouble, of course. I seriously doubt you’ve been expressly told not to let fans show their appreciation to your star performers.” </p> <p class="cb">The bouncer looked down at Daniel, silently gauging him, then nodded once, and went back to staring in the distance, arms crossed over his broad chest. Serena looked at him, then looked at Daniel, clearly debating whether to start arguing. Daniel raised an eyebrow in a silent “if you want to say something to Marjorie this is probably your only chance” message. Serena sighed and fished for pen and paper in her purse.</p> <p class="cb">She handed a hastily scribbled folded piece of paper as well as several bills to the security man, who accepted the lot without changing expression in the slightest. </p> <p class="cb">“I just want you to know,” added Serena, all tease and sex and lust, running a hand down the chest of the security man once more, “that I would have done things to you that those little amateurs up there have never heard of. I would have...”</p> <p class="cb">She paused, and stood tip-toe to whisper in the bouncer’s ear. Daniel, who knew just what a Serena in full form was capable of, struggled to suppress a grin. The security man’s face fell, lust flashing in his eyes, and he looked at Serena, who stepped away from him looking coy, like the proverbial cat after swallowing the proverbial mouse.</p> <p class="cb">“Think about that when you jack off tonight in bed, sweetie.”</p> <p class="cb">They went back to the main room of the joint, and Radhu jostled up to Serena. </p> <p class="cb">“What did you tell him?”</p> <p class="cb">She smiled. “Nothing for you to worry about, Rad. Just making sure that that boy doesn’t forget me, that’s all.”</p> <p class="cb">“So what now?” asked Daniel.</p> <p class="cb">“We go out and check out the back. I bet you anything there’s another entrance and, if we’re lucky, we’ll catch Marjorie on the way out.”</p> <p class="cb">They left the club and took a moment to locate the alley that would bring them to the rear of the building. Radhu remained behind as a lookout in case security showed up. The rest of them ran down the alley.</p> <p class="cb">They made it just in time to see a well-dressed square-shouldered man step out of the back entrance of the club behind a shorter girl and lead her to a black limousine that was idling quietly with its rear door open. The well-dressed man turned to look at the three figures that emerged from the alley, and there was a moment of tense silence before Serena shouted and charged.</p> <p class="cb">“Marjorie! Let her go, you fucker!”</p> <p class="cb">That shocked the man into action. He lifted Marjorie and squarely tossed her into the waiting vehicle before climbing in himself. Marjorie had not protested, merely looking at the running Serena with eyes empty of any expression.</p> <p class="cb">The limousine reared forward just as Serena reached it, and she had time only to slap its trunk before the vehicle sped off and turned the corner with a screech of tires. Serena was still shouting obscenities at it long after it had disappeared from sight.</p> <p class="cb">“She looked way out there,” said Van Halen, clearly shaken.</p> <p class="cb">“Maybe she was drugged,” said Daniel. “That would explain a lot.”</p> <p class="cb">“She didn’t dance like she was drugged,” said Serena, still looking in the distance. “Something else is going on here. And why was she taken?”</p> <p class="cb">“Come on,” said Daniel, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I got the license plate number, maybe that can be of use.”</p> <p class="cb">They turned to head back to the alley and Radhu, who was waiting for them.</p> <p class="cb">“What’s that?”</p> <p class="cb">Van Halen bent down to pick up something shiny on the ground, and held it up to the dim light above the closed door door out of which Marjorie had emerged. It was a charms bracelet.</p> <p class="cb">“Maybe Marjorie dropped it when that guy grabbed her.”</p> <p class="cb">“Maybe,” said Serena, taking the bracelet and looking at it carefully. There were three shiny silver charms on the bracelet.</p> <p class="cb">“Greek letters,” she said, looking more closely. “Delta. Iota. Kappa.”</p> <p class="cb">They looked at each other. Delta Iota Kappa was a well-known fraternity on campus. But what was their connection with Marjorie?</p> </div> <p class="cd">Posted: <i>March 5, 2010</i></p> <p class="cd">Edited: <i>March 24, 2011</i></p> </body> </html>

Author: Bulgroz the Third Title: The Adjusters #19 - A Day in the Life (II) Keywords: MF, mc Posted: August 3, 2011 Edited: August 3, 2011 The Adjusters #19 A Day in the Life (II) Kyra MacKenna exhaled as the treadmill beeped and steadily decreased its speed from eight miles an hour down to a walkable three, and wiped the sweat off her brow. She was glad she had managed to put in a short thirty minutes run before her trainee showed up. One of the upsides of being a personal trainer, aside from the fee, was unhampered access to the best gym in the University at any time of the day or night. The downside, of course, she reflected as she felt her pulse return to normal, was that it ate into her preciously rare free time. Between her classes and her painting, she did not have much time left. Personal training helped pay the bills, as did illustrating that biology textbook currently getting written by one of her professors. Whatever time was left was devoted to Jackson, which she did not regret. Not one bit. She was starting to think of him as her boyfriend. They had actually not talked about any of that yet -- she did not want to be the one to broach the subject, and she suspected Jackson did not want to either. Still, the fact remained that they were spending a lot of time together, doing all the things that couples did, including banging each other like bunnies in heat, and he had been spending the night at her place more and more frequently these last two weeks. Kyra knew that this was more than just hooking up. She liked Jackson, and it was pretty clear to her that he liked her back. Which elated her. And had her feelings on the matter not been blatant enough, that her paintings had started to shift towards warmer colors and away from the blues and grays of much of what she have been naturally using since starting at Darnell would have been proof enough. A young man caught her eye as he walked past the line of treadmills, giving her a smile that she returned noncommittally. He looked good in his cut-off tee shirt. He looked strong. Kyra felt a tingling in her groin and smiled to herself. Old habits died hard, she thought, wondering idly how it might feel to have such big arms hold her tight. He looked like he could crush her with a single hand. Why, he could practically order her to do anything, and she would have to do it or risk angering him. She would have no choice but obey. The tingle in her groin became a persistent throbbing, centered on her clit. The young man kept looking in her direction as he walked past, and Kyra did not have to turn her head to know that he was running his eyes down her body, checking her out, evaluating her, assessing whether she looked good enough to fuck. Her nipples tightened in her sports bra, complaining bitterly about being trapped, wanting to be free and be sucked and be pinched. She felt the young man's eyes linger on her ass. Hardly surprising as it was what every male stare settled on, for as long as she could remember. Boys loved looking at her ass, which was convenient because Kyra loved when boys looked at her ass. She went out of her way to wear her pants tight to showcase what was by all accounts her best physical feature. (Well, that, and her eyes, which Jackson kept telling her were the most beautiful he had ever seen and could spend hours staring at, something that both embarrassed her and made her want to hug him so hard he would choke. But eyes did not make boys want to do filthy things to you, did they?) Even now, she was wearing a pair of black yoga pants so tight that they left very little to the imagination, while showing not an inch of skin, a combination Kyra had always found exhilarating. She resisted the temptation to shake her behind at the young man. The throbbing in her clit had move south and turned into a deep pulsation in her pussy. God, she was turned on! Working out always made her body so sensitive. She momentarily toyed with the idea of fingering herself to orgasm in the changing room, but dismissed the idea quickly. She would just have to wait until she saw Jackson that evening. He would never know what hit him. When the young man had walked past, she turned to look at him take the stairs leading down to the changing rooms. She did still enjoy fantasizing about strangers using her. But more and more, she was looking forward to being with Jackson. Of course, Jackson did have that maddening tendency to treat her like she was a fragile piece of porcelain, and when he fucked her he was careful, loving, attentive. She appreciated it all, of course -- that was what made him boyfriend material, after all -- but part of her nonetheless wished he could be more assertive. Forceful. Demanding. Unbidden, an image of Jackson towering over her while she lay naked on a bed sprung up in her mind. He was looking at her, a serious almost dismissive expression on his face, taking in her body and evaluating her and telling her to spread her legs wide and hold them up with her hands hooked under her knees, and she was doing it, reddening under his unflinching stare, and she was feeling her pussy lips part with what she was pretty sure was a sticky wet sound. Jackson was putting a finger up her cunt, as if he was checking out a sow before a country fair. His finger was sliding in and out of her tight cunt, and she was juicing up like a madwoman. He was pulling out his finger and then without warning was slipping it into her asshole. She was spreading her legs wider while at the same time thrusting her pelvis upward to give him better access. And then, looking satisfied with -- what exactly? her tightness? -- he was sitting in a chair, in the corner of the room. "You'll do," he was saying, still dismissive, almost bored. "Let's see how well you suck cock now. Come here." She was practically jumping off the bed, but before she could do anything he was stopping her. "What are you doing? Get down and crawl to me, you worthless pair of tits on legs. I wanna see your nips trail on the floor until you're at my feet." Fuck, I've got to stop, thought Kyra, stepping off the now almost stopped treadmill. She longed to squeeze her tits and slide a hand down her pants and twiddle her clit -- or better, for Jackson to squeeze her tits and slide his hand down her pants to twiddle her clit. Maybe she'd even have the guts to whisper in his ear, as he finger fucked her, "I'll do anything you want -- I'm your private nasty whore." Kyra bit her lips, ground her thighs together, and tried to hide her action by stretching. She was way too horny, that was not good at all. She still had this training appointment in a few minutes. She debated canceling, but then dismissed the idea as too unprofessional. She could just imagine it: "I'm sorry, but I have to cancel our training session because I have to go and masturbate." She laughed out loud, then caught herself when the girl on the treadmill next to hers looked at her suspiciously. Kyra gave her a shrugging smile, then hurried down towards the lobby area. It was time to meet her two o'clock. He was waiting for her near the personal trainer station. "Brad? Hi, I'm Kyra. I'll be your trainer today." The young man smiled. He was not bad looking, and gave the impression -- not contradicted by his physique -- that he was not new to the gym environment. She found that somewhat surprising. Also surprising was the fact that his eyes did not automatically shoot down her body. Instead, he was looking straight into her eyes, and Kyra instinctively responded to what she saw there -- lust, confidence, power. Her arousal, which had dropped down to a manageable level, rapidly rose to its previous height. Now, it was Brad that was telling her to crawl on the floor. "Hi," he said. "Wait, I know you, don't I? We've met before..." Brad smiled again. "Maybe at a frat party?" He raised his hand, showed her his ring. "I'm Delta Iota Kappa." "Ah! Go Greeks! You must know Jackson then, he's my --" she hesitated. "He's my boyfriend." There. Just trying it out for size. Brad nodded. "I do. Good guy, Jackson. Oh, here's my pal, Sonny. Also a brother." Sonny, in contrast to Brad, had all the hallmarks of the gym virgin, starting with his oddly mismatched clothes all the way to a decaying pair of running shoes, along with a general demeanor of discomfort that made him twitchy. Kyra smiled to reassure him."Nice to meet you Sonny. I'm Kyra." She turned to Brad. "Huh, listen, if it's going to be the two of you, I'm afraid I'm going to have to charge more. It's kind of policy." "No problem, Kyra. Double the amount?" "Let's make it half-price for Sonny here. Bit of a rebate for my guy's brothers. All right, then, are you ready? Follow me, boys, we'll take care of the warm-ups first." She could feel Sonny's eyes on her as she turned around, and she knew that they had dropped down to her ass. "Dude --" started Sonny, but Brad told him to shut up. Kyra smiled, wondering what clumsy compliment Sonny had almost uttered. She imagined Brad telling her to shut up with that same tone of voice, telling her to shut up and suck his cock, after making her crawl with her naked ass up in the air, her cunt dripping like a leaky faucet. Unconsciously, she put some additional sway in her hips -- she was aroused, and she wanted everyone else to be aroused with her. She could picture the boys' eyes riveted on her back side, and she fantasized that they wondered about how it would feel like to slide into her from behind, like that. She herself wondered how it would feel like to do them both at the same time and she shivered despite the warmth of the gym. She had never had a threesome, but the thought of it was so wicked that she almost blushed. Okay Kyra, she told herself, take a deep breath, this is getting ridiculous. She needed to calm down, and concentrate on the job. There would be time for fun later. In fact, when she got home tonight, she would get rid of the roomie, call Jackson, and when he showed up she would be lying down on the floor of the apartment, naked, her legs spread as far as they would go, and she would plead him like a crack whore needing a fix to do whatever he wanted to her, rape her, take her as hard as he could -- none of that gentle and loving shit. She'd beg him to fuck her like a piece of meat, a set of holes for him to use, a fuck toy there for his own selfish pleasure and release. Maybe this would be the night where she asked him to tie her up and gag her. Kyra closed her eyes under the sensations that were coursing through her body. If those two boys behind her only knew just how horny she was, they would probably bust their nut right then and there. Kyra unlocked the door to the small exercise room usually reserved for step classes and other aerobic group activities, and held it open for Brad and Sonny to go through. The room was empty. They moved to one corner, and after grabbing a few exercise mats Kyra started on some warm-up stretches. Brad walked up close behind her. She knew he was staring straight at her ass as she bent down to stretch her back, and took a perverse pleasure letting him have a long hard look. Just as she decided that enough was enough -- no point leading the poor guy on -- he spoke up. "Kyra, I am your dick brother." Kyra's mind went blank for a second. Without thinking, she turned her head and saw the frat ring that proved to her that he was indeed her dick brother. And just like that, her cunt -- her worthless cunt -- was on fire. If she was aroused earlier, she was now off the charts. And she knew just what it took to appease the fire burning her up. She straightened up and stood at attention, her eyes cast downwards in the proper gesture of respect. She could feel her body vibrate, expectant, just waiting for Brad -- for her Master -- to tell her what to do. Her Master wasted no time to indulge her. "Kyra, get down on your knees, lose the shirt and bra, and play with your tits. And you," he said turning to his friend Sonny, "go lock the doors." Sonny nodded, and went, while Kyra, her body resonating from the pleasure induced by her Master's voice, knelt down on the exercise mattress and in one swift motion pulled off both her tee shirt and her sports bra over her head, her tits -- her slutty tits -- finally free. Her nipples were already hard, screaming for attention. She provided it, palming her mounds and with nimble fingers pinching and tweaking the sensitive nubs. Each contact sent waves of lust down to her fiery cunt, which was soaking through her panties. If her Master liked titties then she'd give him the best show ever, and she squeezed and massaged her udders, which turned her on even more. Sonny had returned. "Dude, that's Jackson's girl. This is not cool." "Shut up, Sonny. Jackson doesn't need to know, all right?" "Still. I mean --" "You mean what? Yeah, so she and Jackson have been hooking up lately. Big fucking deal. Does that mean that the rest of us gotta go without now?" "Well, it is kindda what we all agreed. He seems to have fallen pretty hard for her, and they've been hanging out an awful lot, even she's not, you know, like this and stuff." Her Master looked at Sonny a long while without speaking. "Fuck that," he said at last. "And you know why? Because it's been since Christmas that we haven't gotten a new girl, that's why. I don't know why our prez is holding out on us, but he is, and I'm getting tired of it. And I'm not the only one, believe me. There's a whole bunch of us getting pretty antsy about this. And Jackson thinks he can just come along and claim this girl for his own while we're in a drought? No way." "I thought they said that there was a problem, that the guy -- that doctor -- who takes care of the girls, he left, and that's why we can't get new girls..." "Boohoo. Even if that's true -- huge fuckin' if -- you're telling me that they can't find anyone else to push the buttons or whatever it is they need to do? Fuck, I'd do it, if they just show me how. I bet I can figure it out too. And then I can get us some good ones too. There's that new sociology professor I got for one of my courses, one hot fuckin' babe with legs up to there. Wouldn't mind to have her spread them open for me." "I don't think --" "No, you don't. Nobody fuckin' does. Anyways, to the matter at hand. Jackson won't know. I'm not gonna tell, and Kyra here certainly ain't gonna tell, and you won't tell either, right?" Sonny hurried to nod. "I've been hooking up with her for weeks now, right here. And you know why I keep coming back for more? Just look at her -- the cunt's a sub! In real life. A perfect, shameless sub. I don't know if Jackson even realizes it, but I sure the fuck do. And when a real sub's under, well -- there isn't anything better out there." He ran his hand down her face. "Right, cunt? You like to be told what to do?" She flushed when her Master addressed her. A cunt -- that's what she was -- a hot moist opening for big cocks to cleave. Her Master saw that in her, and he would take advantage of it, take advantage of her, and she would submit to him, because he was strong. "Answer me, you little cunt -- you like to be told what to do, don't you? You like when I order you around?" More heat from her groin spread through her. "Yes, sir," she replied in a small voice, still not looking up, still caressing her slutty tits. Her Master had a little laugh. "That's right, you do. And you know why? Because you're a submissive little cunt, that's why. How about me and my pal here use you like a fuck rag doll, and when we're done, when we've filled all your holes with our spunk I send you out there with only your tights on, our cum dripping from your face and your tits?" Kyra shivered. The image was crystal-clear in her head -- she, walking down the main gym, glazed with cum, her naked tits bouncing, everyone staring at her, pointing to her, laughing and jeering, calling her a whore, a slut, a cum dump, the girls sneering, the boys getting hard-ons and wanting to add their cum to that covering her body. And then she'd run into the young man from earlier, the one with the big arms, and he'd look at her like she was a filthy whore. He wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't caress her, wouldn't kiss her -- you don't kiss cum-covered walking holes -- he'd just grab her and take her, hard, over and over again, and she'd beg him to fuck her even harder, and... and... and... Her shivers increased and just like that, she came, swaying on her knees, her eyes tightly shut, feeling the waves of orgasm run through her body, but amazingly doing nothing to assuage the fire burning in her cunt. She needed her Master's cock inside her. "Fuck," said Sonny. "Did she just...?" "Yup. Told you she's a fun one. So, you gonna stay, or you gonna go?" Sonny was looking at her, the conflict evident in his eyes. Kyra did not move, kneading her tits and presenting them up to her Master, waiting for him to tell her what to do, the anticipation of his wishes driving her wild. "Shit, I can't pass this up," said Sonny at last. "Good man," grinned her Master. "Okay, my little cunt -- you see my friend here? I want you to go to him, and beg him to fuck your mouth, and when he does, I want you to make it good for him, the best. And when he comes in your mouth -- or your face, or wherever on your slutty body he decides to -- then I'll stick my cock in you and then you'll come, but not before." Kyra felt her lust for her Master, her hunger, her craving, grow tenfold, and the promise that he would fuck her obliterated everything else. She hoped he would make it demeaning, humiliating, but at that just getting fucked was enough. If the price to pay was sucking off his friend -- no, she corrected herself, not sucking him off, but letting him fuck her mouth like a cunt, like a pleasure hole -- there was no hesitation to be had. "Yes, sir," she replied softly, not looking at her Master. Here was her chance. She leaned down and went on all four, like a dog, like a bitch in heat. Then she brought her chest all the way down to the floor, her nipples brushing against the exercise mat, and that way, with her slut tits dragging on the ground, she crawled to Sonny. "What the hell is she doing?" asked Sonny, sounding like he was unbuckling his belt. "Told you she was a sub. She loves crawling around like that. Generally loves being used and abused, even humiliated. Bit of a freak. But so fuckin' nice. I don't think Jackson even realizes what he's got there. He thinks he's in love, the fuckin' moron. Anyways, she loves to hear just how much of a slut she is, and the things you might make her do. And no need to be gentle either. Save that part for Jackson," her Master laughed. Jackson, thought Kyra, going crazy from the feel of her nipples rubbing against the hard plastic as she slowly made her way towards Sonny. Gentle, loving Jackson. She fantasized he was there, in the room, with them, watching her crawl to this other boy to offer her body for his pleasure. She imagined him getting naked, high-fiving her Master, saying he was next to fuck the worthless crawling cunt, that he'd fuck her ass, too, make her scream, until someone else stuck a cock down her throat to stop the mewling. Jackson... She reached Sonny's old sneakers, and held on to his legs as she kneeled before him, never looking up at him, his now stiff cock sticking straight out almost poking her in the eyes. She opened her mouth wide, lips stretched, and made a large O right over the tip of his cock. She was breathing hard. After a few seconds, as Sonny did not move, she moaned in a low voice. "Please, sir -- please fuck this worthless cunt' mouth. Go as deep as you want, as hard as you want, as rough as you want. Please, this worthless cunt's throat is yours to fuck..." Just saying those words sent waves of lust all through her body. She wanted so much to just reach between her legs and shove a hand up that soaking wet cunt of hers. Sonny twitched, but her Master intervened. "Come on, man, make her beg. She loves it. Ask her why she's doing it, why she's letting you do this to her." "Kyra --" "Come on, man -- she told you, she's a worthless cunt, a cum dump, a fuck whore. Call her what she really is..." Kyra's arousal spiked whenever her Master insulted her. She was all that he said she was; her Master knew the truth. She belonged on her knees, on her back, with her mouth open and her legs spread, a service girl, a hole to rent. Her mouth was still an O over the tip of Sonny's cock, and her breath was hard enough to make it sway -- or was it just Sonny's excitement? "Why are you doing this... slut?" Sonny was hesitant. Kyra did not care. "Because my Master told me to. Because after you use me my Master will fuck me and when my Master fucks me I will come." "And you want to come?" "Oh God yes! I want to come so bad. Please shove your cock in my throat and use me and come ! Come all over my face, my eyes, my tits! Come all over me, paint me, drown me! Come all over me and let him fuck me and let me come! Please! I'll be good. I'll be the best you've ever had, the best pussy, the best ass. I'll make you dream of my mouth late at night and when you do you can just call me over and grab my hair and push my head down and tell me 'choke on this cunt!' and I'll do it, whenever and wherever you want, with your buds hanging around cheering you on to choke fuck the bitch, to skull fuck the whore!" She finally lifted her eyes towards Sonny, saw the desire in his eyes. "Please! let me c -- Gargh!" She gagged as Sonny thrust his cock into her mouth, deep, in one push, and closed her lips around the hard shaft when it retreated. She was ready for his next thrust and welcomed his cock with a twirl of her tongue and a hard slurp. Sonny was running his hand through her short red hair, keeping her head in place, and she wanted to tell him there was no need as he fucked her mouth with long hard strokes. She was not going anywhere ; she would take him as deep as he wanted for as long as he wanted. She sucked on every in and out stroke, her lips caressing the shaft, her tongue doing acrobatic wonders. Then again, if he wanted to hold her head in place, if that's what it took to get him off faster, who was she to argue? She was just a worthless cunt. And the faster he came, the faster her cunt would get attention from her Master. Her Master. He was behind her, probably looking at her, while Sonny shoved particularly hard into her again, making her gag once more, some drool escaping the corner of her lips and dripping down her chin. She lifted her hips slightly, and shook her ass, trying to entice her Master to at least run his hand over it, maybe even slid his hand under her tights, under her panties, and shove a couple of fingers insider her little sloppy hole. She moaned at the thought of being a sandwich between a guy that was pushing his cock down her throat and another with his fingers up her ass, while Jackson stood back and watched her putting on an obscene live porn show, and she opened her mouth wider and tilted her head to accept the full length of Sonny's cock inside her. It slid in without difficulty, the whole length of it, and when her lips hit the base of his cock and her nose smashed into his stomach, she heard him let out a groan of delight and she grabbed his ass and kept him buried inside her throat, swallowing repeatedly in order to milk him dry. Sonny grunted, grasped her hair hard, and almost doubled over. "Fuck! Oh fuck! This feels -- Fuck!" She kept him inside for as long as she could, until her lungs burned from lack of air, and then she pulled back. She gasped for a few seconds before plunging forward again, deep throating him again, basking in the sound of his ecstasy again. She kept going, knowing that Sonny would not be able to hold it in for too long at that pace. She felt her Master kneel down behind her, and lust flared in her womb. She shook her ass and groaned around Sonny's cock. Sonny clenched his fist in her hair in response, overwhelmed by the sensations. Her Master pulled her pants and panties down to her knees, and she wanted to help him pull them off completely but he slapped her ass to stop her and Sonny pulled her head down onto his cock to remind her that she was servicing him. She therefore obediently continued sucking him, while her Master ran his hand over her backside and down her thighs. The pants around her knees kept her from spreading her legs, but her Master could still slide his hand between her thighs and caress upwards, stopping just short of her pathetically slobbering cunt. She groaned again, trying to push her ass back and get her Master to run his fingers over her pussy, but he kept his fingers aside and Kyra, distracted by the movement, lost her focus and Sonny's cock thrust hard in her throat and she gagged and choked, drool spurting out the side of her mouth and onto his pants. As Kyra had her mouth and throat full of Sonny's cock, her Master reached between her legs and without warning gripped her throbbing clit between his fingers and squeezed. Sparks of pain mixed with pleasure fashed in Kyra's groin, obliterating everything else, and she screamed around the shaft impaling her -- and Sonnyr groaned and tried to push his cock even deeper insider her gullet -- "Fuck! Feels so fucking great when she does that! Fuck! Do it again!" And her Master squeezed her clit again, harder, and her sensitive organ renewed its broadcast of pleasure and pain. Kyra screamed again, wanting to shout to her Master to stop and to continue, both and neither, and Sonny fucked in and out of her mouth with renewed vigor as she struggled to catch her breath. Her Master was using her! It turned the volcano in her belly into a river of lava coursing throughout her system. She felt her Master shift his hand between her legs. He was talking to her, she realized. "So my little cunt here likes to have her clitty pinched and twisted and played with, then? Does Jackson do that for you, pinch your clitty while one of his friends fucks your throat?" The thought of Jackson with his hands between her legs, like her Master, and abusing her love button made her moan and redouble her efforts to make Sonny come. Her Master ran two fingers between her pussy lips. "God! Did you wet yourself, cunt? You're dripping down your thighs! You are such a slut, turned on by being used in the middle of the gym where anyone could come in and see you..." There was no denying it. Her Master's fingers felt so good in her slit, she wanted to press her crotch down to grind against his hand, but she kept being distracted by the cock in her mouth. Suddenly, as she was pulling out, Her Master grabbed her head and straightened her up so that she was on her knees with her head tilted back. Sonny went "Hey man, what are you --" before her Master interrupted him and put his hand to her face, rubbing fingers shiny with her juices right under her nose. "Smell this, cunt? That's the smell of a shameless slut, a bitch in heat. That's why we're using you like this, because your body is begging for it and any male around can feel it and sense it and smell it." The smell was strong, musky, making her head spin. Everyone could smell her -- he was right. "Please --" she could not help herself. She did not even know what she was asking for -- something, anything, release, bliss, pain. "Here," said her Master, thrusting his fingers in her mouth, "taste what a worthless cunt tastes like." And she sucked on his fingers like she had sucked on Sonny's cock, with all of her soul. Her Master leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Sonny's gonna come on your face, cunt, then I'm gonna fuck you and come on your face too. Then I'm gonna send you out there with our cum glazed all over your pretty features, and everyone will not only be able to smell the cunt that you are, but also see it. You like that?" No reply was needed. She moved her hips back and forth, as if she were riding an invisible cock sticking out of the ground. She wanted him, coveted him, needed him. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and pushed her back down towards Sonny, who sank his cock right back into her mouth to the hilt. Sonny fucked her even harder, spurred on by the interruption, and the room was filled with the wet sounds of her mouth and the rhythmic slapping of her forehead on his stomach. Kyra felt her Master kneel behind her, and then felt his cock, his wonderful hard powerful cock, slide between her thighs, barely touching her slit. He casually rubbed it back and forth between her thighs, as if he were fucking her, and when she struggled -- her pants were still around her knees, keeping her from moving freely -- to press down upon the cock so that it would slip into her, her Master slapped her ass hard. "Not until he comes on your slut face, cunt!" She redoubled her efforts, thrusting her face forward with each of Sonny's counterthrusts, humming loudly when his cock was in her mouth, slurping him out as he slid out. He was getting close, she could tell, his cock getting harder and harder, and soon she would get her face slathered with his man juice, and then her Master would ravish her and use her and molest her and she would come so hard she was shaking just thinking about it. Sonny was grunting loudly now, his movements getting jerkier, his hips trembling. When he finally erupted in a great shout of pent-up glee, the first jet of cum took her by surprise, and shot straight down her stomach. She pulled back quickly enough so that the second spurt landed on her forehead, the third in her left eye. She jacked off Sonny's spasming cock, her mouth wide open, coaxing further jets that hit her nose, her left cheek, her upper lip. He came copiously, and his semen was thick and sticky. Each touch on her face sent off little sparks up and down her body. She rubbed his deflating cock on her face, spreading the glaze he had given her evenly -- because that was what worthless cunts did when men deigned come on their face. She basked in the afterglow. With her eyes closed, feeling Sonny's spent drip down her face, she was seeing Jackson watch her get showered with cum, seeing him come all over her face, calling her a cum rag, telling her that from now on she would take his load on her face every day, until he tired of her and found someone smarter, prettier, sluttier. And then she felt a cock stab into her, stretching out her wet cunt and taking her breath away. Her Master! Her Master was fucking her! He had shoved his cock deep in her cunt and he was fucking her like a bitch, like a worthless cunt with her ass up and available. And just like that, she came, hard, long, her Master's cock hammering in and out of her spastic pussy, kept tight by the yoga pants prevent her from spreading her legs out. She kept coming, long waves of lust crashing into her, making her moan, groan, scream -- she was crazed, and her Master was still fucking her, fast, hard, his hips slamming into her thighs, his stomach slapping onto her ass. In front of her, sitting down and looking at her, was Sonny and in her delusional orgasm-induced state he was not only Sonny but also Jackson, sitting down with his eyes on her, witnessing her submission, witnessing her acting like a wanton whore, used and abused, her face dripping with cum, her tits hard and sensitive. She wanted to hug him, kiss him, smother him. And her Master behind her was still fucking her, relentless, driven, powerful. And she kept coming, her exhausted body wracked with pleasure. Sonny was sitting in front of her, and he was Jackson, and he was the young man with the massive biceps from before, but he was also Jackson, and she was coming so hard and she wanted him so much. She was mumbling softly, not even noticing, "Please! Jackson! Please!" She was ready to do whatever he wanted, whomever he wanted. She was ready to give him her body, her soul. She was ready to be his slut, his whore, his cunt. She was ready to fuck him, his friends, his dates. She was ready to clean his cock after his dates, suck his cum out of his dates' pussy, lick them up before he fucked them. She was ready to fuck another girl for him, ready to fuck a dog, a pig. She was ready to fuck whatever he wanted. Kyra, through her lust, through the haze of her orgasms, saw Sonny's cock twitch, and she knew he was turned on by watching her getting royally fucked well by her Master, and she came again and her cunt squeezed her Master's cock hard as he fucked her and slapped her ass over and over again and she begged for it to end and for it to never stop and her Master's thrusts became stronger and harsher and she was being plowed into the ground and her right ass cheek was on fire and her cunt was burning up and cum was dripping from her face, and then her Master pulled out of her and flipped her to the ground onto her back, and the pants around her knees still kept her from spreading her legs wide and offer her slutty cunt to the world for anyone to come and possess her. Her Master kneeled over her and jerked his cock off aiming at her face, at her chest, and she, Kyra MacKenna, at the sight of that cock that had brought her so much pleasure, pressed her slut tits together and pushed them up, offering them as a gift, pinching her nipples hard. "Please -- Please --" she was moaning again, unable to stop herself, unwilling to do so. Her Master's cock gave a sharp twitch and then -- just like that -- she was drowned under jets of searing cum that landed on her tits, her neck, all the way to her forehead, adding sticky liquid to that already accumulated on her face. She opened her mouth and some of her Master's seed landed on her tongue and she tasted the sour honey taste and she came again as she swallowed it all down, a subdued orgasm this time, toned down, like the dying flail of a fallen angel, as if her inner fire had been doused by her Master's spent. Her Master collapsed next to her, as she worked the sticky liquid into her tits, massaging hard, luxuriating in the sensations of having been used like the worthless cunt she was. "Fuck!" groaned her Master. "That was something." "No kidding," said Sonny. "Intense." "So, was I right, or was I right?" Sonny nodded. "You were right, man. Shouldn't have doubted. Jackson's a lucky bastard." Her Master looked at her, and slapped her thigh. "Does your boyfriend know how much of a slut her girlfriend really is, you cunt?" Kyra turned her head to look at her Master. He could see the real Her, knew the real Her, and that made the fires in her crotch flare again. "Jackson loves me." Her Master laughed. "Sure he does. And you love getting your hole stuffed with cock, right?" He leaned over and without warning pushed three fingers into her sloppy cunt, and she gasped and moaned and tilted her hips to provide him with better access. "Dude, I gotta go," broke in Sonny. "I can't afford to fail Calculus again." "Yeah, I should go too." Her Master let her go, and she whimpered at the loss of his fingers. Sonny and her Master were getting dressed, and she looked at them, still kneading her tits. Her Master turned to her, and smiled wide. He handed her tee shirt. "Here, put this back on. No bra. I love seeing the twins bounce around as you move. Now, you're going to go to the dressing room to shower and stuff -- it is the end of your workout after all -- but you're not going to clean up your face until then, okay? You're going to walk down through the gym with our cum on your face. I want everyone that sees you to think what a slut you are to be walking around with your face glazed with cum. Is that clear?" "Yes, I understand." Everyone would know she was a worthless slut. Her cunt burned with arousal. "Dude," interjected Sonny as she slid her shirt down over her body. It was sticking over her tits, clammy with their drying cum. "You sure that's a good idea?" Her Master shrugged. "Don't worry, she'll love it. She'll probably come a few times on the way down. And what are people gonna do? They'll just look back if they even notice, and wonder if they really saw what they saw. Then she'll shower and it'll be as if nothing happened." "You're sick, dude!" Sonny shook his head, but now he sounded amused. She walked across the small room towards the door. Her shirt was plastered over her chest, her tits swinging almost obscenely, unsupported, her nipples tenting the material. Fresh cum was dripping slowly down her face. In a few seconds, she would open the door and walk out, doing what her Master had ordered her to do and everyone who saw her would see her for what she truly was, a worthless cunt who let men cum on her face and bore it proudly as her badge of slutdom. They would point at her, laughing at her, lusting at her -- the men would wonder what her lips felt like on their cock, what her legs felt like wrapped around their waist as they plowed into her, what her cunt felt like squeezing them hard as she was wracked by an orgasm. She thought about all those looks she was about to receive, and before she reached the door, she squeezed her thighs together and came one more time. Fifteen minutes later, Kyra MacKenna emerged from the women's changing room, her short red hair still wet from the shower. Staring at the clock on the wall when she gave back her lock and picked up her ID card back at the front end, she realized that she would be late for her three-thirty class. Her training session with Brad and his friend -- what was it? Sonny -- had taken a bit longer than she had hoped. Thinking back upon it, she wondered why. There had been nothing remarkable about the training session. She had practically zoned out for most of it. As she left the gym, she barely paid attention to the group of young men coming down the stairs from the above levels and ogling her body while pointing at her with large smiles on their faces.

Author: Bulgroz the Third Title: The Adjusters #6 - The Second Card Keywords: MF, FF, mc Posted: June 1, 2010 Edited: March 24, 2011 The Adjusters #6 The Second Card Daniel and Serena sneaked into the apartment building at 102 College Drive by stalking out the door and waiting for someone to whom Daniel could mumble something about having lost a key. A pretty girl was nice enough to hold the door open for him. Serena joined him once the girl was gone, and in they went. "Did you really need me to do that? You could have pulled that off easily." Serena shrugged. "One, I'm black, so that already makes people suspicious. Two, people tend to notice and remember me, and right now we should probably be low key." "Are you gently trying to tell me I'm unremarkable?" "I'm trying to tell you that you are a white man of average height, good looking without being A-list material, in the middle of New England." Daniel grunted. "Don't worry," said Serena, patting him on the shoulder. "Girls still find you attractive. No need to look dejected." "I have no desire to attract anyone. Between you and Jenn, I have my hands full, thank you." Daniel hesitated as Serena looked around trying to find her way. "Huh, Serena, about what happened last Thursday, while we were watching Kittens' Den...." The image was still fresh in Daniel's mind, Serena with her long legs spread wide fingering herself while Jenn rode him in silence because she thought everyone else asleep. That afterwards Serena had hinted at Jenn that she had seen them and that Jenn had then brought Daniel back to their bedroom and fucked him again after forcing him to spill out everything that had happened -- all the while suggesting naughtily in his ear as he pounded into her that it was too bad that she had not noticed Serena playing with herself like that or she would have gone over and helped the black girl out with her own fingers or her tongue -- had really been the Maraschino cherry on that particularly sweet sunday. Serena looked at Daniel, a smile on her lips. "Don't read into it too much. You're always doing that, seeking meaning and significance where there isn't any. I was horny, and you and Jenn were getting it on, and you two are beautiful together. So I just did what came naturally. No ulterior motives, hidden desires, or expectations --" "It was just sex," Daniel completed for her. "Exactly. Just sex. A good toss off, as they say. You seemed to enjoy it, so just take it for what it was. And don't go falling for me." "How could I ever fall for a foul-mouthed gutter-minded cliche of a black slut?" "That's the spirit!" She laughed. Daniel shook his head, reached over and kissed Serena on the cheek. "You're still wonderful," he said. "Oh shush. Besides, we're here. Apartment three." "Remind me why I'm here again?" "Same deal as when we visited Jeremy, Marjorie's ex. You're protection." "Some protection. So this is the guy that Jeremy said Marjorie had come to visit back in September, which precipitated their breaking up and stuff? You find out anything about him?" "Enough." She knocked, pulling out a small box from her purse, and motioned for Daniel to hug the wall. The door to apartment three opened, stopped by a security chain, and a thin, reedy voice came out. "Yes?" "Mister Lake?" Serena had a huge smile on her face, and her voice had take the kind of lilts that reminded Daniel of Cindy when she chose to emphasize her ditziness. "There's this UPS package that was delivered to my apartment by mistake and it's really for you and I just didn't want to leave it on the floor in the hall..." "Oh," said the man she called Lake. "Hold on." He closed the door, slid the lock chain, and opened the door again. Before it had opened fully, Serena had pushed it in, along with Lake, and entered the darkened apartment. Daniel, taken completely by surprise, hesitated for a second, looked around to see if anyone saw anything, then entered the apartment in turn. He closed the door behind him. Serena was standing over a thin young man with a wispy beard who must have been no older than twenty, sprawled on the floor. Serena glanced meaningfully at Daniel. Lake looked at him fearfully, and Daniel understood his role. He squared his shoulders, crossed his arms, leaned back against the wall, and simply stared at Lake, an expression he hoped unreadable on his face. "Mister Lake. My name is Serena Banks. I have a few questions for you. We'll be happy to leave after we get some answers, and you should never hear from us again." Lake looked at her suspiciously, pulling himself up on his elbows. "Why would I answer your questions, you bitch? Get out of here before I call the cops. I have rights." Serena grinned. "Go ahead," she said. "I'm positive they will enjoy hearing about your activities at the West 3 dorm last week. What was it? Meth? Roofies? I forget. I'll have to go check the pictures." Lake frowned. "I don't know what you're --" "Save it, Lake. Here's how I see things. I don't care about your drug deals. I want to know about Marjorie Duquesne. Answer a few questions, and we disappear and nobody has to know about your little side business. Be difficult, and what I have goes to the cops, and you're sent away for a long time." "You're bluffing. You got nothing." "Try me." A staring contest ensued. Daniel, detached observer, appreciated the tension in the air. Lake did not look like the kind of guy that would pop a pistol out of his pants, but you never knew what people would do in dire circumstances when cornered. He just hoped there was no one else in the apartment, ready to jump out of a door and blast them full of holes. Protection, Serena had said. And he was supposed to stop those bullets how, exactly? Lake finally dropped his eyes and sighed. He looked at Serena, still suspicious. "Fine," he said, sounding tired. "Fine. It'll be a short conversation anyways. Never heard of this Marjorie girl." He went to his sofa, cleared away some of the mess of clothes and video-gaming props, and plopped himself down with a grunt. "I think you do. Little oriental girl, witnesses say that she came to your apartment mid-September. You answered the door and let her in. You two seemed friendly." Lake's eyes widened when he digested what Serena had said. "Who the fuck are you, and why are you asking me this?" "Let's just say that we're trying to find Marjorie, and we believe that you have information that can help us do so. As I said, I don't care about you one way or another, Lake. All I want to know is what you can tell me about Marjorie." "MD," Lake said, almost as a whisper. "Pardon me?" "I said, MD. That's the name she used. I didn't know she was called Marjorie." "So you remember her?" "Of course," he laughed. "How could I forget? That girl had moves you wouldn't believe." He shook his head. Serena sat down on a corner of the coffee table in front of Lake. "Tell me everything. How did you know MD, and what happened that night?" Lake looked at her without saying a word. Serena sighed. "Are we going to have to do this all night? Where I threaten to go to the cops and tell them everything? I don't care either way, Lake. The cops are also looking for Marjorie, and they may be very interested in knowing you had some business with her. That might just make you a person of interest in their investigation, no? I'd rather you talk to me, frankly, because then I'll know what I need to know faster, but either way I'll know eventually." Lake grunted. "This stays between us, okay? I tell you what I know, then you go." "Like wisps of smoke in the wind." She blew for effect. "Okay, okay. I didn't know MD before she showed up. She was... how shall I put it... offered to me. For services rendered." "Care to provide details?" "This guy calls me, beginning of the semester, telling me he needs a supply of a certain product to ensure that the fine folks at this party have a good time, and that his usual contacts were out, and he'd heard about me, and that I had a reputation for being reliable. We discussed a few details, and he basically placed an order." "Stop being coy, Lake. You're already in trouble, so just tell me what he asked for, and who that guy was." Serena had taken out a notepad and was scribbling away. Lake sighed, shook his head, and leaned back into the couch, head resting against the wall. "He ordered a few boxes of Ecstasy, okay? He said it was for this big party, I don't know who he was and I didn't really ask. You don't survive long in my business if you're too curious. In case nosy fucks like you came sniffing around, in fact." "Did he give a name? How did you contact him?" "He told me to call him Snowman. And I didn't contact him, he contacted me. I never had a number. We'd set up a time and I'd wait for his call." "Sounds like a bad way to do business. Why did you trust the guy, Lake?" "I didn't. I was really nervous about this. I like to be in charge, but this guy would have none of it. I said I couldn't deal under those conditions unless I had a deposit. When I told him that on the phone, he said he would talk to the people involved and ask them about it." "Who were those people?" "No idea. He called me back the next day, told me that they agreed on a deposit. He told me to be in the following day and the money would be delivered, and then we could do business." He stopped, and went silent, his eyes closed. "And?" prompted Serena. Lake took a deep breath. "The next day, after dinner time, there's a knock on my door. It's this girl, says she's been sent by you-know-who. She looks utterly inoffensive, a pretty little brunette with Asian features, wearing a long raincoat. I think this looks like a bad fucking movie. She hands me an envelope. It's full of cash. "As I'm counting, she adds in perfectly calm tone of voice that that there's less than agreed upon in the envelope, but she's here to make up the difference. I look at her not knowing what she's talking about. She asks me to let her in. I hesitate, and refuse. She asks me to step out. Now, this is really stupid, but I open the door. Something in her eyes. I'm usually pretty paranoid -- kind of a job requirement -- but I guess I saw something that convinced me she was not a threat. "She takes a step towards me, gets up on her tiptoes and kisses me on the lips. I jerk my head back. I'm astonished, you know, didn't expect that. But she grabs the back of my head and pulls me back and kisses me harder and it's all tongue and lips, and she's all over me, hand in the back of my head, hand on my back, my ass, my chest. She's glued to me, standing on one leg while the other is almost around my waist, and she's rubbing herself up and down with those perfect little movements of the hips. And she smells good, and tastes good too. And she feels good. Then she looks at me. 'Can I come in now?' I'm shocked still, but I let her in. "Once inside, she unties the belt of her raincoat, and with the most imperceptible of movements she lets it drop to the ground. I just stare at her. I told you it was like a fucking movie, right? Well, she's dressed just like those chicks in movies that go to people's place and strip for them and stuff, singing telegrams or shit. That little girl is wearing a black bra and garter belt and stockings and the works, like she's out of a fucking Victoria's Secret catalog. Curves, curves in all the right places. And those boots, too, that went up to her knees. And she poses, right there, in front of me, right in the middle of the room, half naked, one leg in front of the other, hands on her hips, tits out. "I'm like, whoa, what's that? And she says, 'I'm your bonus, Freddie. For your trouble. For insurance. You get to use me however you like, the whole night. I'm very good, Freddie.' She's looking at me as she says that, and she looks hot. Like she does want to jump me, right then and there. You when something's too good to be true? Well I had that feeling up the wazoo then. 'What's the catch?' I ask. 'No catch,' she answers in a quiet voice. 'I'm here to make sure you feel that you're treated well, Freddie. What would you like to do to me?' I look at the cash in my hand, at the body of the girl before me, my mind goes nuts. I'm losing about a thousand bucks on this deal, and I can't imagine she's worth that. I mean, she's cute and all, and her body certainly is fucking fantastic, but... Listen, you sure you want to hear this? I mean, to cut the story short..." "I need details, Lake. All of it's important. Don't worry about me, I can take what your dishing." Lake shrugged. "Suit yourself." He leaned back in his sofa, ran his hand through his hair, closed his eyes. "So that girl is there, in front of me, like a model, and she's waiting for me to say something. So I ask, 'What's your name?' -- 'You can call me MD.' -- 'Like a doctor?' -- 'If it's a doctor you'd like.' I clear my throat. 'So, huh, that's a big question, what I would like to do to you...' I didn't know what the rules of the game were. Last thing I needed was this girl's pimp crashing through the door and fucking me up because I did something wrong. 'What can I do?' She looks at me. 'Anything you want. You can have my mouth, you can have tits, my pussy, my ass. It's all yours, for tonight, for as long as you can get it up. I can be good, I can be bad, I can be nice, I can be naughty. I can be whatever you want, Freddie. For tonight, you get to live whatever sick fantasy you have. You want to invite some friends over, and have a real good time? I'm your slut tonight, Freddie.' She says all of this without batting an eyelash, a little smile on her face. "I don't know what to do, you understand. That sort of thing just doesn't happen to me, you know. 'Look, this is just too good to be true.' -- 'I understand. And expected as much. Here,' and she crouches down and retrieves a small cell phone from the pocket of her raincoat pooled at her feet. She presses a few buttons, makes sure it's ringing, then hands it to me. I pick it up, just when the call connects. MD nods towards the phone. 'Go ahead,' she says. "'Hello?' I say. 'Mister Lake? I thought you might call. I take it MD made it safe and sound?' It's Snowman. He doesn't sound surprised. 'Yeah,' I answer, 'she's here. And she has an odd story to tell. You wouldn't know anything about it, would you?' He laughs, and I get that feeling that there's absolutely no humor in it, that it's all a big act. 'I talked to my people, Mister Lake, and they okay'd MD here as the extra on the deposit you asked for. She can tell you better than I can what she can do for you. All I can add at this point is to have fun.' The connection drops. I hand the phone back to MD. I still don't know what to say. She's standing there, still posing, looking at me, smiling. 'So you're really here to offer yourself to me? I can do anything I want?' She nods. 'Anything at all. Except permanent damage. Otherwise, you'll find me a pliable and obedient companion. So I ask again, Freddie, what do you want?' "At this point, I go: what the fuck, she's here and she doesn't seem too put out by what she's here to do, so I might as well enjoy it, right? Right? I mean, she's beautiful, she's sexy, and the way she keeps on saying that she'll do anything, that I can ask her anything I want and she'll do it, well, it's a big turn on, you know. Isn't that every guy's fantasy, to have a girl do anything he wants?" Lake looked at Daniel when he said that, as if seeking confirmation from the other male in the room. Daniel, still acting as the enforcer, tried to keep his face inexpressive. He returned Lake's look. Lake turned from his gaze after a few seconds, never looking at Serena. "Yeah, well, fuck, she was there, and I was being shafted a thousand at least on that deposit, and there was risk, you know. So I tell her, 'I wanna fuck you.' MD just nods, small smile still on her face. 'Of course. How and where?' Fuck, worse than the inquisition. 'Quit asking questions.' She drops her eyes, goes 'Yes, sir.' It's weird, one moment she's smiling and sexy, the next she's quiet and subservient. She doesn't look upset or scared. Women, right?" Lake lets out a laugh, before remembering Serena is there, still sitting on the coffee table, not smiling. "I tell her to come closer. She does. I grab her in my arms and kiss her. She responds. I still can't get over that. Whores won't let you do that, usually. But she does more than let me kiss her. She gets into it, like before at the door. And that lingerie she's wearing is so thin, you can feel everything through it. My hands find her ass and I grab it and squeeze and fuck me if she's not moaning in my mouth like she really wants it. I've had a few whores before, but this is something else. "When I break for air, she lets me go, turns around, and goes to the bedroom, slowly, her ass swaying left and right. I follow her, unzipping my pants as I do. I find her on my bed in the other room," and Lake nodded towards a door on the other side of the living room, "she's lost her bra and panties but kept her stockings and garter and boots, and she's sitting on the bed, legs spread and fuck me if I can't see she's wet already. She has a look on her face that spells out take me, and I don't need to be asked twice, and I kiss her, and we fall onto the bed, and she's squirming under me and her hand is reaching between us and she grabs my dick and guides it inside her and it's like a fucking vacuum cleaner how she pulls me in. She wraps her legs around my waist, and she moans, and groans, and makes all those sounds that you hear in porn, but it's real, you know, she's not faking it. She urges me on, and I plow into her, hard, you know, as hard as I can make it, and she takes it all, she's happy to take it all, screaming all the while. It doesn't take too long, I'm sad to say, before I explode inside her, and when I do she pulls me in tight and shivers and I swear to God she comes herself, scratching my back when she does. Best goddamn cum I've ever had. It was like my soul was spitting out the end of my dick." Lake went silent, eyes still closed, as if he was reliving the moment. Serena snapped him back to attention. "Then what?" "Then I collapsed next to her on the bed, and I was just trying to catch my breath and let my heart get back to double digits heartbeats, you know. MD was next to me, propped up on an elbow, her long hair spilling out all around her, and she was running her hands on my chest. I could see her tits by my head, and I reached up to squeeze one and she closed her eyes and moaned when I did that. I loved that reaction, so I pinched her nipples a bit." Lake's face broke into a dreamy smile. "Before I can go much further, she stops me. 'Let me see if I can wake you up,' she says. She has a look in her eyes I can't figure out. But before too long, she scoots down my body and takes my dick in her mouth, and blows me, right then and there. She must be tasting herself on my dick something fierce, but that doesn't seem to bother her none. She licks and sucks, and soon I'm hard again, and she's sucking me still, not slowing down, not stopping, taking me in deep. Her mouth feels incredible, like nothing else, and trust me, I've had plenty, little whores willing to give me some for a hit, but this is something else. There's art there. There's eagerness to please. Before I can come, though, she pulls up and straddles me and lines herself up with my dick and slides me inside her in one smooth move. She then goes on to ride me, and I just hang on for the ride. Her tits bounce up and down, her hair flying about, her face showing she's really enjoying what she's doing. I run my hands over her body, having enough focus this time to explore and appreciate her. She's beautiful, in a very girl-next-door kind of way. And she looks like she's really into me, and that just fucks with my head. When she sees me looking at her, she smiles, a wonderfully warm smile, and takes my hand and brings it up to her lips and sucks two of my fingers inside her mouth, keeping her eyes on mine the whole time, riding me up and down. She sucks my fingers in time with her hips. It takes again almost no time before I lose control and jerk my ass up and shove my dick as deep inside her as I can and explode. She lets go of my hand then, lies down on top of me and, rubbing herself against me, pretty much starts purring." Lake paused, lost in thought. "Okay, so you guys screwed like bunnies. Good for you. Then what?" "I don't know. I must have fallen asleep, because I was along on the bed when I came to. MD was nowhere to be found. Just this note on the table saying that she had a good time and thanking me. I was kindda miffed, to tell you the truth. I thought she said she was there for the whole night, but no. Though I looked at the clock and it was almost four in the morning, so I guess that counted. There was some indication that she had stayed and watched TV or something, and ate, so perhaps she did stay the night and I was just too stupid to stay awake and take advantage of it." He ran a hand through his hair, looking dejected. "Or you were drugged," said Daniel from his post by the door. Lake looked at him like he had spoken in tongues. "That's what I would have done," added Serena. Lake looked back and forth at his two visitors, eyes wide. "Drugged? You mean, she... Oh fuck me!" He sank in the sofa, grabbing his head. "Oh fuck me! And she... Wait a sec!" He sprang up, looked around, half-crazed, then ran to the bedroom. Serena and Daniel exchanged glances as they heard noises coming from the room, things being moved and dropped and thrown around. After a while, Lake emerged, looking relieved. "Okay, the bitch didn't take anything. But fuck, why did she do that then?" "Drug you?" asked Serena. "Probably to avoid having to screw your sorry ass the whole night." "But... but... but she seemed perfectly okay with it! She was smiling, and that look in her eyes, I mean, pretty unmistakable." "Well, far from me to argue a fellow female's tastes. But let's just say that if she was indeed sent here as payment, there may be an eensy-weensy chance that she may not have had that much choice about it." Lake hesitated. "Huh... Maybe... But I've seen whores, coke whores, whores of all kind, and she didn't have that, you know, that jaded look, or whatever. I swear, she looked like she really wanted it." Lake was holding his head in his hands when he said that. For a second, Daniel almost felt bad for the guy. "Yeah, well, I think you've been had, but that's not really that important to me right now. So you have not heard from MD since?" Lake shook his head. "Nothing was said when you delivered the drugs to that Snowman guy?" "I never saw him. We arranged an exchange, and a bunch of guys, silent, big, took the package from me and handed me an envelope full of cash." "Fine. Two things, then. First, do you have the note that MD left you?" Lake thought for a second, then headed for a desk in the corner of the room. He rummaged in one of the drawers for a few minutes, then pulled out a small sheet of paper that he handed to Serena. "You've kept a note written to you two months ago?" Lake blushed, something Daniel was not expecting. "Okay, thanks. Second, give me the contact info for Snowman." "What? No, I can't do that. Next thing you know I'll get in trouble and he'll stick all sort of --" "Lake, you're already in trouble. I won't tell where I got the info. I told you, all I care about is MD. Now be a good boy and hand it over." Lake gave her a long look, then sighed loudly before grabbing a piece of paper from a nearby table and scribbling something on it after checking an address book. "Here. That's the number that I have, from MD's cell phone. Now can you please go?" Serena stood up. "Sure. Thank you for your help. And stay out of trouble." Lake made a face, and slammed the door behind Serena and Daniel when they left. "Well?" asked Daniel. "Well, we got a piece of info, at least. This Snowman may be our connection." "So you think it was Marjorie, then?" "It fits. The handwriting on the note matches what I remember from her, but I'll check more carefully at the paper, maybe even ask a graphologist or something. But from the description, yeah, it's her." "So... dancing, and now what, prostitution?" Serena shrugged, looking defeated. "Seems like, doesn't it? I mean, she was the last person I thought would do that, but hey, weirder stuff has happened. I'd like to think I would have noticed if she was in trouble, but maybe I'm just fooling myself." "Lake seemed pretty sure she wasn't like other prostitutes. Not that I trust him, but I guess he would know, and he doesn't really seem like the kind of guy to try to bamboozle us like that on the fly." "He was a bit of a joke, wasn't he? Only now, after two months, does he think of checking whether the girl he had over robbed him? He has a definite small-time-dealer-in-over-his-head vibe to him." She sighed. "Wanna grab a coffee? I need to review this stuff, and you're a great sounding board." "Gee, thanks." "You know what I mean, you goof." "Sure. I'm not meeting Jenn until eight anyways." "Anything fun planned?" "Just hanging out with some of her English major friends over at the Tropicana. Wanna come?" "Love to, but can't. I have an article to finish for tomorrow, and a pile of homework that has accumulated." "Don't remind me. I'm in denial myself." They found a coffeehouse with some tables free, and settled down. Serena pulled out her notepad. "All right, summarizing mercilessly: Marjorie until about three months ago, was a seemingly trouble-free student, photographer for the Darnell Daily, going steady with Jeremy Blatawski. She then disappears for a few days at a time, coming back with no explanation for her absences. A girl with her description is seen around town, hanging out with gang members in the south side of town. Then in mid-September she is seen by her boyfriend entering the apartment of Frederic Lake, who claims she was sent by a man named Snowman as payment for a drug delivery to an unknown group of people. The boyfriend confronts her, they fight, they break up. Marjorie disappears a few more times, for several days at a time. She quits the paper. A month ago, she disappears again, to reappear a week later at The Spirited Flesh as a dancer. And according to my sources, she has been appearing there fairly regularly, at least once a week, since mid-September. She was seen leaving the club three weeks ago in a limousine in the company of a Caucasian man in his mid-thirties, average height, solid build, finely dressed. She has not been heard of since. Her room has been left untouched, and has not been entered for at least two weeks." Serena stared at her notepad, lost in thought. "We found a charms bracelet that we hypothesize belonged to Marjorie, and that seems to have something to do with the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity, although we don't know what exactly. And there is some suggestion that whatever she is doing is not done under duress, although there is conflicting evidence on that subject, if the drugging of Lake actually happened." Serena looked up to Daniel. "Anything else? Thoughts? Suggestions?" "The obvious thing would be money problems." Serena shook her head. "A quick look around says that Marjorie had no problems with money. She wasn't rich or anything, but didn't hurt either. Nor did she have expensive habits. No gambling that anyone ever noticed, no drug use. People that have an expensive drug habit tend to be, if not easy to spot, at least easily identifiable after the fact. Nothing with Marjorie." "I know it's out there, but what about blackmail? I mean, this is starting to sound like a bad movie plot..." "This story already sounds like a bad movie plot." Serena shook her head. "Blackmail's possible, but still feels wrong somehow. At the Spirited Flesh, she seemed genuinely -- I don't know -- present? I can't explain it. It's like Lake said, the vibe's wrong. I can't shake the feeling that had she been blackmailed, she would have acted differently." "Again, perhaps she was drugged." "And again, she didn't looked drugged on that stage. At least, not like with any drug I've ever heard of." "She did looked drugged afterwards, in the alley back of the club." "There is that. Good point. I don't know. I just don't know. It's just wrong." Daniel marked a pause. "So what's next?" Serena flipped the pages of her notebook while answering. "Next I think is figuring out who this Snowman guy is and what's his deal. Snowman. Who calls himself that anyways?" The silence that settled over the pair was broken a few minutes later by a deep bass voice. "Mister Malcolm." Daniel looked in the direction of the voice. "Professor Schmidt! Nice to see you, sir." "Likewise, Mister Malcolm, likewise. You are keeping out of trouble, I trust?" Schmidt towered over the table, nodding with his head towards Serena, who responded with a wave and a smile. "Trying, sir, trying. This is Serena Banks, a good friend of mine." "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Banks." "Same here, sir." "Mister Malcolm, it is opportune that we ran into each other this evening. I have spoken with a former colleague of mine at the Advanced American Institute for Democracy in Austin, and he seemed quite appreciative of your background and your set of skills. I took the liberty of giving him a copy of your resume and your telephone number. You should be hearing from him soon. I have been following their work closely, and they bear paying attention to. If you are to spend some time in that part of our country, I can think of no better place for you to spend it at." "Sir... wow... I don't know what to say..." "A thank you will suffice. You were my best student, Mister Malcolm, the sort to give me back faith in today's wretched youth. Helping you was the least I could do. Please let me know if anything else will be required. It goes without saying that I would be delighted to supply a letter of recommendation on your behalf." "Thank you, sir. This is more than I could have hoped for." "You're welcome. Well, I should be on my way. Good evening, Mister Malcolm. Miss Banks, again, a pleasure to meet you." He tipped an imaginary hat in her direction. "Indeed. Good evening, sir." Serena gave Daniel a quizzical glance after the professor had left. "What was that about?" "What?" Daniel put on his most innocent smile. "That Austin thing. I thought you hated Texas. Now you're looking for a job there? What happened to DC?" Daniel sighed. "Yeah, I don't really like Texas." "Come on, spill." "Prying much?" Serena lifted her eyebrows. "Why do you think I wanted to be a reported in the first place? Besides, you wouldn't like me half as much if I didn't poke my nose into your private life." "I don't know about that, but anyways, I guess this has to come out one way or another. Jenn got the Blumberry." "She did? Wonderful! God, she must be so happy! Why didn't she say anything?" "She wanted to, believe me. But we decided to keep it quiet until we had an idea what to do. You remember that chat we had when she applied about what we'd do if she got it because that meant being in Austin for at least two years?" Serena understood. "Yes, and you said that you'd cross that bridge when you got to it. Guess you're there, huh?" "Indeed. And the bridge looks mighty rickety. Remember that little rope bridge in that Indiana Jones' movie?" Serena smiled, but didn't add anything, waiting for Daniel to continue. "I don't want to be apart from Jenn. Not for that long. Not for any amount of time, really. And I don't want her to give up on her dream either. So I'm looking to see if there's something reasonable for me in the area. And if this pans out, the thing that Professor Schmidt just mentioned, that might just do the trick." "Ah, love..." "Hey, don't make fun!" "I'm not, not really. It's actually very sweet. But that's not very surprising. You're a sweet guy, Daniel Malcolm." Daniel squared his shoulders, deepened his voice. "But tough. Sweet, but tough, right?" "Sweet, tough, and badly in need of acting lessons. And what does Jenn think about all of this?" "You should probably ask her, but she's put the ball in my court, after I told her I needed to figure out what was available in Austin. She's being incredibly patient about it. I'm sure that she'd even drop the Blumberry if I asked her to, which is why I won't even suggest it." Daniel made no mention of Jenn's plan to seduce him into going to Texas with her. Some things ought to remain private, he thought. "My, what a tangled web we weave," said Serena. Daniel nodded ambiguously. "To tell you the truth," he said, "I'm strongly leaning towards going to Austin with her, whether I get the job or not. Worse come to worse, I can always get a job at Starbucks." "The most overqualified barista around." "I seriously doubt that." "You've told Jenn that?" "About Starbucks?" "About going to Austin no matter what." "Still thinking. I'm almost there." Serena shook her head. "Daniel Malcolm, over-thinker. Well, don't wait too long. The poor girl is probably on pins and needles." "Guess I'll have to find ways to distract her, then. Speaking of which, I should go. You sure you're not coming?" "No, but thanks. I'll catch up with you tomorrow, though. If you're up for hearing about my attempt at contacting Mister Snowman, of course." "Please. I have to say, I'm getting quite curious about what's going on. Maybe I'll recycle myself as a PI if I can't find anything else in Austin. All right, I'll see you tomorrow. Good night." "Night." Daniel left the coffeehouse, noted the temperature had dropped, and headed to the Tropicana, further up in the Ghetto. His mind kept going back to the conversation with Professor Schmidt and the one which has followed with Serena. He was getting more and more comfortable with following Jenn down south. The idea of following his girlfriend in order to let her advance her career did not bother him as much as he had been worried it might. If it made her happy, then he was happy. He loved her, simple as that. Moving to Texas -- temporarily, he reminded himself -- was a small price to pay for being with her. Perhaps it was time to push their relation one step forward. The thought took him by surprise, but it felt right. Something to mull over later, he told himself, just as he turned into the entrance to the Tropicana. He saw Jenn almost as soon as he had made his way inside the bar. The Tropicana was a popular spot for students without any interest in sports, as it generally focused more on music than on sporting events splattered on big screen televisions. Not that Daniel found the music particularly enjoyable, but mercifully, the Tropicana avoided anything suggested by the establishment's name. The bar was also not overly crowded for a change. He had no difficulty making his way to where his girlfriend was standing with by a group of fellow students around a small table in a corner. Jenn was beaming at him, a tall glass in her hand. "Hi lover," she purred when he was close. Before he could reply she had sashayed into his arms and was kissing him. Daniel could taste the fruit juice laced with rum on her lips. His hands automatically went to the small of her back and pulled her to him. She let herself be pulled without a protest. "Come on you two! Get a room already!" Daniel let the kiss come to its natural end before replying to the blonde that had tossed the remark amidst laughter and merriment. "Hey Trish. How's life treating you?" "Can't complain. Though you two could really make a girl feel bad about not being hitched." Jenn turned towards her. "I told you before, you should probably be a bit more open to doing some sampling. Few boys nowadays are ready to wait until marriage." "I refuse to believe that there's no one willing to wait like I am. That there's no one who holds purity as something... I dunno... virtuous?" "Oh, so you don't think I'm virtuous?" Trish blushed, even though this was an exchange that Daniel had witnessed several times before. "You know it's not that. You are. In your own way. But you also weren't raised like I was. I don't mean to imply you're a bad person." Jenn smiled, patted her friend on the hand. "I know. Just teasing you. You'll find someone, Trish, don't worry." "Clearly not in the English department I won't." "It's true that most of us fit the stereotype pretty well. Sad, really." "Speaking of stereotype," added Daniel, after ordering a drink from a passing waitress, "why couldn't you folks meet up in a more classical setting, as opposed to a dance club?" "You mean like a coffeehouse? So we could argue over cigarettes and bad coffee?" asked Trish. "I'd settle for someone's basement with some pot and funny drinks, to be honest." And thus the evening started. Daniel enjoyed the group, part of the cohort that had followed Jenn throughout most of her degree. They were a pleasant bunch, just intellectual enough to be interesting, but not overwhelmingly stuffy and know-it-all either. They were a nice change from the political science students that Daniel often found himself with. He enjoyed political debate as much as the next guy, but lately he had come to realize that he cared less about discussing and analyzing great institutions than about effecting some real changes. He looked over at Jenn, busy chatting with Trish and a long-haired boy that was overly fond of Dostoyevsky. It was her fault, he thought. She had changed him, somehow. Jenn must have sensed that Daniel was looking at her because she turned to look back at him, a question in her eyes. He smiled, and lifted his glass at her. She grinned in response, lifted her glass back, and he felt her leg rub against his under the table. The lights in the club dimmed, the place taking on its late night persona, with more dancing and more crowds. Alcohol had thoroughly lubricated the little group, now alternatively discussing the emergence of zombies in recent literature and the relative merits of the latest singles from pop stars Daniel had never heard of. He was content with drinking and listening to the conversation, occasionally throwing in a quip or a remark when the topic hit something he knew a little about. Jenn seemed happy. She was drinking more than usual, and Daniel worried that she might be affected by the question mark in their future. "Jenn! Baby doll, you look scrumptious tonight!" Daniel was interrupted in his reflection by the low-pitched soothing voice. He knew who it was without turning, and so did Jenn, who smiled at the newcomer. "Tannaka, glad you could make it!" The whole table welcomed Tannaka, a tall Asian girl with the thin body of a model. Which she was, moonlighting to pay her college tuition. She leaned towards Jenn and gave her a hug, lingering a little longer than called for. Tannaka had a crush on Jenn. Rather than keep it hidden, she had decided to flaunt it, fully aware that Jenn was in a relationship and that there was no chance for her to steal Jenn away. So she played it up, and made it a joke. She turned to Daniel, hugged and kissed him. They actually got along quite well, Daniel and her. She was a staunch conservative, which tickled Daniel, but she had a good head on her shoulders, which made her opinions at the very least interesting, though completely wrong in Daniel's view. "Hey big guy," she said. "Are you going to let me borrow your girlfriend one of these nights?" "Hi Tannaka. How are you?" "Can't complain. Long day though, so time to unwind." She made her way around the table before ordering more drinks, and the table soon resumed its disjointed talk. Tannaka weaved herself into the ongoing conversation seamlessly. She flirted without any hint of shame with everyone around the table, and Daniel, who knew she was a lesbian, wondered once again whether she might in fact be bisexual. She had denied it when he had asked her, a long time ago, and he had never seen her with a man -- something that Jenn confirmed -- but still doubts remained. Tannaka looked at him and thrust her tongue out, a twinkle in her eye. Daniel smiled and shook his head. Tannaka then looked at Jenn, deep in conversation with Trish, and that look was full of longing. The following hour went by in a confusion of arguments and dissertations, exactly what one would expect from English majors thrown together around a table with a steady supply of intoxicants. At least, they were not philosophers, thought Daniel, not for the first time. When the conversation turned to Proust, which it infallibly did with that particular crowd, Daniel headed to the bar. He ordered a scotch, intent on it being his last drink of the night, and while he was waiting he felt hands around his waist, and a warm body hug him from behind. "Hi love. You've been far tonight." Jenn slid up next to Daniel. "Doesn't distance make the heart grow fonder?" "You want mine to burst from fondness?" Jenn smiled, and kissed him on the cheek. "Trish's been entertaining us on our end with her tales of catholic speed-dating. It's a meat market out there, I tell you. So," she settled against the bar, keeping close to Daniel, who enjoyed the contact, "how was the visit to the guy tonight?" "Lake? Weird. The short version is that he's a small-time drug dealer who was offered a night with Marjorie -- or so it seems -- in payment for his services." At Jenn's shocked expression, he gave her the longer version of the story, complete with the analysis by Serena at the coffeehouse after the meeting. He did not mention Professor Schmidt. "At least we got this one bit of information -- this Snowman guy." "We? You're really taking to this investigative business, don't you? You and Serena are regular little Starsky and Hutches." "Starsky and Hutch? Isn't that a bit before your time?" "The wonders of Internet television." She grew serious. "I can't believe Marjorie is doing that. She must be into some sort of trouble, big trouble. I wish I could help her." "We gotta find her first." "I trust Serena on that. She's like a bulldog after a bone." "Bone optional. But yeah, I'm with you." He looked at his girlfriend. "Huh, Jenn..." She turned to him, putting her fingers on his lips. "Shush. Not tonight. Not yet." "But... wait... how did you know what I wanted to talk about?" "Because you're so transparent it's comical. I know you, Daniel Malcolm. You want to talk about the future. Don't. In a month. You agreed. You think about it. I think about it. We share then, not before. In the meantime, we have a game to play." "I told you, you don't have to do this." "And I told you that I have to. Didn't it cross your mind that maybe I'm doing it for me?" It had not. Daniel shut up. He and Jenn turned towards the group at the table. They were getting more and more intoxicated, and the hum of their arguments and their laughter meshed perfectly with the loud music. Tannaka noticed them looking her way, and blew them both kisses, letting her gaze linger on Jenn. Daniel saw Jenn redden. He smiled. "God, she is so over the top, it's almost --" She stopped abruptly when she saw that Daniel was silently holding between two fingers a card with the unmistakable logo of What is thy Bidding, my Master? She swallowed. She stared at Daniel, who stared right back. "Now?" she mouthed. Daniel nodded. Jenn picked up the card, apprehension mixed with what Daniel recognized as excitement on her face. She read the card. "Order a player you control to make out with a person of your choosing, excluding yourself." Jenn looked up at Daniel, eyes wide. Her expression was clear. Who? she was asking. He turned, and Jenn followed his gaze. "Fuck," she said. "You can't be serious. Tannaka?" "Again, Jenn, you don't have to do this." She steeled herself. "I do. Besides, it might just be fun." She smiled ruefully, She gave him back the card, took a step towards the group, hesitated, turned back, grabbed Daniel's head in her hands, and kissed him on the mouth, her tongue seeking his without any pretense at foreplay. Before Daniel could respond, she reached behind him, picked up his still untouched glass of scotch, and downed it in one gulp. "Yuck," she said, making a face, "nasty stuff." She headed towards the table, unbuttoning two buttons on her shirt. Daniel ordered a new scotch, and watched Jenn sit next to Tannaka, at first at a socially acceptable distance, then slowly inching closer and closer. Jenn acted drunker than she really was, laughing and smiling wildly and touching Tannaka often on the arm, on the shoulder, on the leg. Daniel smiled as Tannaka was at first taken aback, but soon went with the flow and before too long had turned more fully towards Jenn. Daniel found the whole thing quite arousing, watching his girlfriend flirt outrageously with the beautiful Asian. He wasn't completely sure what was going on inside his own head, but he was willing to play along, if Jenn was. His cock twinged painfully when he saw Jenn lean over and whisper something in Tannaka's ear. It looked for all the world like she was kissing Tannaka on the neck, with her hand on Tannaka's opposite shoulder. Tannaka's eyes shot up in surprise, and she glanced at Daniel, who quickly pretended to pay unwavering attention to the ice floating in his glass. When he looked back up, Tannaka was replying to Jenn by whispering back. Jenn blushed, and nodded. Tannaka stood up, looked around, joked with a few of her neighbors, then headed towards the back of the room. Jenn remained at the table a few minutes, then stood up to go and meet Daniel at the bar. She kissed him, a long slow kiss, then leaned into his ear. "Come to the little maintenance room in the back in five minutes. Don't make noise." A quick kiss on the cheek, and she disappeared in the direction Tannaka had taken. Daniel watched her go, admiring how her body moved, how her hair swished with every step. He recognized it. She was turned on. It took all of his willpower -- and an additional glass of scotch, making the evening an expensive one -- not to follow Jenn then and there. She had said five minutes, and he would abide by that. When the clock on the far wall, the one with the admittedly kitsch hula dancers, had ticked away the last agonizingly long minute though, he bolted while trying to make it look like he was not. He had never ventured in the back of the Tropicana, and he was worried about encountering someone that would turn him away, but there was no one. He went past the washrooms, in a dark hallway marked "Employees Only". How does one recognize a maintenance room? he wondered, while at the same time debating whether to try for a casual I-know-where-I'm-going pace, or a sneaky I'm-up-to-no-good shuffle. He stopped in front of a grey door marked "Maintenance Room," and had to smile. Shaking his head, he eyed the awesome lock, then tried the handle. The door opened. Remembering Jenn's admonition, he pushed it as quietly as possible, just enough so he could see inside. There were sounds, evidence of people in the room. In the dim light cast by what must have been a desk lamp, he saw Jenn and Tannaka, enlaced, sharing a deep kiss. Jenn had her backside against a long workbench and Tannaka was pushing her against it while pressing into her. The kiss was hot and passionate; Jenn's eyes were closed. Tannaka was running a hand along the side of Daniel's girlfriend down to her hip, groping a breast along the way. Daniel almost gasped when he finally noticed that Jenn had somehow lost her jeans in the preceding minutes, and was now clad only in a skimpy pair of pale green panties and barely covered by her shirt -- partially unbuttoned but still on. Tannaka was wearing a long black skirt. She had one leg thrust between Jenn's, and slowly, achingly slowly, was grinding it up and down. Jenn's leg muscles were clenching, clearly visible. Daniel, trying very hard not to make a noise, leaned against the frame for a better view. He watched Tannaka pull out of the kiss, holding Jenn's head in her hands. Jenn was breathing hard, and so was Tannaka. She held on to Jenn's head for a long time, silent, staring into Jenn's eyes. Jenn looked right back at her, mouth slightly open, lips red and wet. Still looking right at Jenn, not taking her eyes off Jenn's face, she reached down and unbuttoned Jenn's shirt then pulled the sides apart, baring Jenn's chest and abdomen. Jenn had a lacy bra on, pale green like her panties, which did wonders against her dark skin. Daniel could see Jenn's chest rise and fall with each breath. Tannaka plunged. She kissed Jenn again, then let her mouth trail kisses down Jenn's neck, then chest, playing with the top of Jenn's breasts left exposed by the bra. With one hand she squeezed one breast, making Jenn gasp. Jenn closed her eyes again, tossing her head back to bask in the sensations. Then Tannaka crouched, kissing down Jenn's belly, down to Jenn's belly button, down to the upper edge of Jenn's panties. She kissed all along that edge, each hand caressing up and down one of Jenn's thighs, kissing through the thin material. Tannaka's head was obstructing Daniel's view, but he could tell by Jenn's sharp intake of breath and subsequent moans that Tannaka must have pushed Jenn's panties aside with a finger and kissed or ran her tongue over Jenn's sensitive clit. Before Jenn could recover, Tannaka had pulled back, and in one sharp tug ripped Jenn's underwear off. Jenn's head shot up and she looked at Tannaka with eyes filled equally with surprise and with lust. Tannaka looked up and just smiled, before diving back between Jenn's legs. Jenn moaned again, and looking up saw Daniel watching them through the crack in the door. She smiled, and kept her eyes trained on him for the duration, except when she was overwhelmed and had to close them to compose herself. Before long, Tannaka was, from the sounds of it, slurping away at Jenn's pussy with a passion born of true worship. Jenn was now sitting on the workbench, her legs over Tannaka's back, her hands in the lithe Asian's hair, pulling her tight in a move that Daniel was used to feeling whenever he himself ate his girlfriend out but had never in actuality seen. It was tremendously hot, her hands clenching and pulling this way and that. At regular intervals Daniel jerked his eyes away from the action between Jenn's legs to look at her eyes, still steadfastly trained on his. She seemed to thoroughly relish his enjoyment, his lust, his almost hypnotic fascination. She moved her hips against Tannaka's head, freeing one of her hands to grab one of her own breasts and play with it through her bra. She was putting on a show, and she was making sure it was a good one. And then it ceased to be a show. Tannaka had lifted her hand to Jenn's crotch and from the movements Daniel could tell that she had inserted a few fingers inside his girlfriend, and she was rhythmically pushing in and out, sucking and licking all the while. Jenn nearly lost it, and finally closed her eyes, her mouth hanging open, her hands gripping Tannaka's hair so hard it must have hurt. But Tannaka did not seem to notice -- she had pulled her skirt up her legs, and was busy fingering herself in time with her finger fucking. Daniel's cock was straining against his pants. He toyed with the idea of pulling out and jacking off, but vetoed it quickly. It was one thing to be caught peeping, given that it was his girlfriend in there, but being caught diddling himself in public was a bit much for him. It did not seem to bother either Jenn or Tannaka, however, who were on their way to a mutual crashing orgasm. It first landed on Jenn, who let out a long gasp that revealed how hard she was trying not to scream. Daniel admired how his girlfriend tensed up almost instantly, pulling Tannaka tight against her with her hands and her legs, squeezing her thighs together and trapping the Asian girl, who seemed to climax at the same moment as she was mashed into Jenn's crotch, if her muffled scream and extensive shudder were anything to judge by. For a while, after Jenn had relaxed her grip. all that could be heard over the thumping of the bass from the main part of the bar was the sound of the two women breathing, calming down, recovering their composure. When Tannaka stood, face glistening with Jenn's juices, and enlaced and kissed the tall brunette softly on the lips and the kiss prolonged itself into a long soul exchange, Daniel slowly closed the door without making a sound and tiptoed down the hallway and back into the main room of the bar. Everyone was too far gone either on drinks or on debates to have noticed his absence. He headed for the bar and asked for another scotch, budget be damned. He took the glass and turned around just as Tannaka was coming back into the room. She caught his eye, and he was surprised to actually see her blush. He raised his glass in a silent cheers, and winked at her. She almost stumbled in surprise, but recovered nicely, and sat back at the table and seemingly picked up the conversation just as if she had never left to make out with Jenn in a back room. Daniel sipped his drink. Jenn came out shortly thereafter, hair in a bit of a mess, looking slightly crazed. She spotted Daniel at the bar and headed straight for him. "Hi love, how --" "Shut up." She kissed him, practically raping his mouth with hers, delivering a kiss that made his legs weak. He discerned an odd taste on her breath, probably Tannaka's, and the thought made his cock jerk to attention. Jenn, who was pushing against him, felt the shiver, and pulled her head back. "Let's go home. Now." "What? What about --" She put her face inches from his, looking at him with an intensity that frightened him. "We're going home now, and you're going to fuck me. You are going to fuck me hard, you are going to fuck me long, you are going to fuck me till I pass out. Tannaka's fingers were nice, her mouth was hot, but I need something big and hard in me right now. If you don't deliver, I'm going to find some poor schmuck with a big dick in this bar and give him the night of his life. I'd rather it be you." "Okay then. Let's go." "Good boy." As Jenn pulled him towards the exit, shouting a general good bye to the group, Daniel reflected that he still had a card left, that he really liked this game, and that he'd never leave this woman.

<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/strict.dtd"> <html> <head> <!--ADULTSONLY--> <meta name="shs-author" content="Bulgroz The Third"> <meta name="shs-title" content="The Adjusters #5 The First Card"> <meta name="shs-keywords" content="MF, mc"> <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> <link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Domine' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="b3.css"> <title>The Adjusters #5 The First Card</title> </head> <body> <div class="text"> <p class="ct"><b>THE ADJUSTERS</b></p> <p class="ct"><br></p> <p class="ct"><b>5</b></p> <p class="ct"><b>The First Card</b></p> <p class="cb"><br></p> <p class="cb">“The other musketeers are still coming over tonight?” asked Jenn, as Daniel cleared the table after dinner.</p> <p class="cb">“Yup.” He started the water for the dishes. “I should double check we have snacks.”</p> <p class="cb">“We do.” Jenn settled down and finished her glass of wine watching him work. “So what’s happening with Serena? I’ve been so busy these past two weeks that I haven’t seen her.”</p> <p class="cb">“I don’t really know, actually. I haven’t seen her much either. Still investigating still frustrated, I suppose. She’s been pretty scarce. Even Radhu’s starting to mope. We’ll get to ask her tonight.”</p> <p class="cb">“Glad she could find the time to come and join us.”</p> <p class="cb">“She does enjoy her Kittens’ Den.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn smiled and said nothing. She watched Daniel quietly as he washed the dishes. There was no set schedule for domestic duties, and they had never really needed one. They somehow managed to find a natural rhythm. Jenn viewed it as further proof they were perfect for each other; Daniel did not disagree.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel was sorely tempted to tell Jenn that he had been talking to various people, investigating options in Austin, but Jenn had made clear throughout the week, whenever he had attempted to broach the topic, that she did not want to talk about it until their date in December. </p> <p class="cb">Before he could contemplate the prospect further, however, his cell phone buzzed. “Can you get that? My hands are wet.”</p> <p class="cb">“It’s Serena,” Jenn said after picking up the phone. “Hey sweetie, Jenn here. Yes, he’s here. Doing his domestic duties. Got him well trained. Sure, hold on.”</p> <p class="cb">She put the phone to Daniel’s ear. “Hi Serena, what’s up?”</p> <p class="cb">“I need a favor.” Serena sounded like she was outside.</p> <p class="cb">“Shoot.”</p> <p class="cb">“I’m up on West Campus, and I’m set up to talk to this guy who says he knows something about Marjorie, and... Well, I could use some company, someone that won’t spook him.”</p> <p class="cb">“Huh... sure, okay. West Campus. I guess I can be there in fifteen, twenty minutes? Are we still doing Kittens’ Den afterwards?”</p> <p class="cb">“Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn looked at Daniel with a question on her face, and he brought her up to speed after disconnecting.</p> <p class="cb">“We shouldn’t be too long. If Radhu shows up, just distract him. I’ll call you when we’re on our way back.”</p> <p class="cb">“Okay. Be careful.”</p> <p class="cb">“Don’t worry. I know how to handle Serena.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn hit him on the shoulder. “Go before I beat you.”</p> <p class="cb">The bus ride to West Campus was quick, and Daniel stepped off at the main stop on the road that sneaked through the student dormitories making up that section of Darnell. Serena was waiting, under a lamplight. She hugged him. He thought she looked tired. </p> <p class="cb">“Thanks for coming,” she said.</p> <p class="cb">“No problem. Though I don’t understand why I’m here, really.”</p> <p class="cb">She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “I’ll tell you later. We should get going.”</p> <p class="cb">“Where are we off to?” Serena was taking them to one of the residence halls, a tall red brick building with conspicuous ivy covering most of the facade. One of the smaller halls, Daniel knew, and one that housed mainly graduate students.</p> <p class="cb">“We’re meeting with a student, Jeremy Blatawski. He was Marjorie’s last known boyfriend.”</p> <p class="cb">“Was?”</p> <p class="cb">“Supposedly, they broke up about a month ago.”</p> <p class="cb">“A month ago. Wait, that’s—”</p> <p class="cb">“That’s pretty much when the weird stuff started happening. Funny that.”</p> <p class="cb">At the reception desk, Serena told the student attendant that she was expected, and Jeremy Blatawski was called down. He showed up after five minutes and let them in. They headed to the dining hall which was slowly emptying after dinner. </p> <p class="cb">Daniel seized up Jeremy on the walk and knew that Serena was doing exactly the same. Tall and thin without being lanky, Jeremy Blatawski was unremarkable: dark hair neither long nor short, features neither ugly nor handsome, and wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, which were almost camouflage on a campus. He was a chemistry doctoral candidate, they learned, three years into his program, researching the effects of corrosive agents on the next generation of plastic polymers.</p> <p class="cb">“You said on the phone that you wanted to know about Marjorie then?” asked Jeremy, drinking a chamomile tea. Daniel and Serena had declined food and drinks. They were seated at an isolated table in the dining hall.</p> <p class="cb">“Yes,” said Serena, pulling out a notebook. Unsure of his role, Daniel merely sat and listened. “I’m investigating her disappearance for the Daily, and I just had a few questions for you. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me.” Daniel was always amazed at how his friend could channel a professional tone and composure at the drop of a hat. It made such a remarkable difference from the exuberant girl he was used to.</p> <p class="cb">“It’s no problem at all. I’m just afraid I won’t be able to help you much. I haven’t seen Marjorie in almost a month now.” An expression of sadness clouded over his face, and he stared at the wall in silence, lost in thoughts.</p> <p class="cb">Serena gave him a minute before continuing.</p> <p class="cb">“I understand, Mister Blatawski. Still, you may know something that could help us find her. Now, you and Marjorie were a couple, yes?”</p> <p class="cb">“Yes. For almost a year. We met when I was her teaching assistant for Intro to Chem. She came to my office hours with a few questions, we hit it off, and we started seeing each other more and more. We kept it secret until the end of semester because, you know, it’s frowned upon, TAs and students cavorting. Of course, I made sure that the other TA for the course graded her papers and exams, so at least ethically-speaking I’m clean, to myself if to no one else.”</p> <p class="cb">“Tell me about Marjorie.”</p> <p class="cb">“What’s there to say? She was wonderful. Always smiling, almost bubbly at times, full of energy. She loved photography—she worked at the paper, so you probably knew that already.” Serena nodded. “She was an Arts major, photography and digital arts. Although she loved anything having to do with images.”</p> <p class="cb">“And she took chemistry?” Daniel asked.</p> <p class="cb">Jeremy shrugged. “Someone told her that it might be a good course to take given that some of the stuff she was interested in was old-fashioned photography with film emulsions, as well as painting with contemporary products to get effects distinct from traditional oil or acrylic paints. I thought that was a bit misguided—the level at which we look at things in chemistry was way overkill for what she wanted to do—but I can’t complain since it got us to talk at length in the first place. And she was good at it, too. It didn’t do much for her painting, but it gave her some background to understand what I work on.”</p> <p class="cb">“And how would you characterize her relationships? How does she get along with people? With men?”</p> <p class="cb">“She’s okay with people. Friendly, liked to talk. She isn’t exceedingly comfortable with men, but she isn’t afraid or anything. Maybe just a bit intimidated at times. She’s shy. But she was perfectly relaxed with me.”</p> <p class="cb">“And she is beautiful.”</p> <p class="cb">“Yes. Maybe that was part of the problem. Men would often hit on her, and she never really knew how to respond. She could be pretty reserved, unless she had a camera before her, and then she became someone completely different.”</p> <p class="cb">“So what happened to break it off?”</p> <p class="cb">“I wish I could tell you, but it all happened so fast I’m not sure I know myself. I was in the Ghetto, at a friend’s, and just when I was leaving his apartment I see her in the hallway of the building. I call her name, she seems not to hear me, so I run after her, turn the corner, and I see her knocking at another apartment’s door. She’s wearing this long jacket, which I thought was weird because it was late August and pretty hot out. The door opens, this boy greets her, they exchange a few words, and then she steps up to him and kisses him. They kiss for a while, and she pulls up closer and rubs herself against him likes she really wants to get it on. I’m shocked. To say the least. The kiss lasts a while, and then the boy lets her in and closes the door behind her. I don’t know what to do at that point. I almost go up and knock on the door myself, but I don’t have the guts. What would happen anyways? It’s either her, and then what’s there to say, or it’s not her, and I make a fool of myself. So I just leave and head back here.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena interrupted him gently. “Do you remember the apartment number?”</p> <p class="cb">Jeremy nodded. “Apartment 3. At 102 College Drive.”</p> <p class="cb">“Thank you,” said Serena, scribbling down the information. “Please, continue.”</p> <p class="cb">“Not much more to tell, sadly. Later that night, she calls me, asks me if she can come over, but I ask her about her evening. She says that she was home all evening to study, and that she had missed me. I ask her if she went out at any point, and I guess I’m not very smooth about it, cause she asks me why I’m asking, and before too long I’m demanding to know who the guy was and she’s telling me that she didn’t know I could be such a jerk, and then I’m shouting and she’s shouting, and she hangs up on me or me on her, and that’s the last I’ve heard from Marjorie.”</p> <p class="cb">“Wow,” says Serena. “Painful stuff. I’m so sorry. No words from her at all?”</p> <p class="cb">“Nothing. She had a friend of hers bring me a small box of stuff I had left at her place. Toothbrush, socks, those sort of stupid... Fuck, I’m sorry.” He turned away from Serena and Daniel, wiping his eyes discreetly.</p> <p class="cb">“Sorry,” he continued. “Didn’t realize this was so... fresh still. Hardest thing is that I don’t know what happened, how things went from great to shitty all in one evening.”</p> <p class="cb">“It is just one more strange thing among many strange things about this case, Mister Blatawski. May I ask you a more... personal question? Feel free not to answer if you find it too invasive.”</p> <p class="cb">“Go ahead.” He sounded tired.</p> <p class="cb">“How were you and Marjorie doing sexually? Any problems? Anything odd? Anything that you think might be relevant?”</p> <p class="cb">Jeremy shrugged. “Not really, no. I mean, everything was normal, I guess. I mean... Look, I haven’t had that much experience with girls, before. I had a few girlfriends, but nothing really really serious, so it’s kind of hard to compare. It was so different with Marjorie, it was, I don’t know...”</p> <p class="cb">“It was made better by the fact that there was this perfect connection between you two,” completed Daniel. Serena gave him a curious look.</p> <p class="cb">“Exactly.” Jeremy smiled. “A catalyst of sorts, if I can make a chem analogy. But yes, sex was great, not because it was necessarily great by itself, though it was, but because I loved her. And I thought she loved me. Until that evening, that is. Now, I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”</p> <p class="cb">“I’m not sure how to ask this, Mister Blatawski, so forgive me again for being blunt. Did Marjorie have any fantasies of submission?”</p> <p class="cb">Jeremy looked at Serena with confusion. “What do you mean, submission?”</p> <p class="cb">“Did she ever mention anything or do anything to suggest that she was aroused by fantasies of being submissive to someone else?”</p> <p class="cb">“You mean, like whips and leather and stuff like that?”</p> <p class="cb">“Well, that can be a part of it, but not exclusively. Submission can be purely intellectual. Did Marjorie ever give any indication of obeying to people that were forceful, or dominating, not out of fear, but out of something like duty, or even desire?”</p> <p class="cb">Jeremy looked at a loss. “No, not that I can think of. I mean, as I said, she was shy, usually, so she did not put up fights or stuff, but, she was not deferential or anything like that. At worse, she would try to disappear in a corner, make herself invisible, shut up, maybe even leave. But obey, or doing something that someone else wanted her to do just because they would ask forcefully? No, that’s not Marjorie. Or, I mean, not the Marjorie I thought I knew.” He shook his head.</p> <p class="cb">Serena stole a glance at Daniel, and gave him a quick nod. “Thank you, Mister Blatawski. This was very helpful. If you remember anything else that you think is relevant, please don’t be shy and just call me—you still have my number?” She stood up, and Daniel followed suit.</p> <p class="cb">Jeremy, looking like he had been pounded on by a heavyweight champ, remained sitting in his chair. “Do you know what happened to her? Do you know what’s going on?”</p> <p class="cb">“That’s exactly what I’m trying to find out, Mister Blatawski. As soon as I get some answers, I will be sure to inform you.” She paused. “She was my friend too.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena and Daniel were turning to leave, when Serena stopped and looked at Jeremy. “One last question: have you ever seen this bracelet?” She showed him the charms bracelet they had found in the alley behind The Spirited Flesh the previous week.</p> <p class="cb">“Huh, yes, it was Marjorie’s. Well, Marjorie had one like that. I’ve seen a few like that around.”</p> <p class="cb">“Do you know where she got it from?”</p> <p class="cb">“No idea. She just had it on, one day. I asked about it, and she said she won it in some contest. She kept winning stuff—a plushie alligator, a sock puppet made to resemble our school mascot, stuff like that. She loved games.” He looked ready to cry again.</p> <p class="cb">“One last question, for real this time. Did Marjorie have anything to do with the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity?”</p> <p class="cb">“Not that I know of. Marjorie didn’t care for frats or sororities. Perhaps through a piece for the paper? That job took her to various places on campus.”</p> <p class="cb">“Perhaps. Thanks again, Mister Blatawski. Good night.”</p> <p class="cb">On their way out of the residence, Serena was deep in thought, intermittently talking to herself. “I checked at the paper, and Marjorie wasn’t on any story involving Delta Iota Kappa. Worth checking the contest angle. And trying to find other people with that bracelet. And of course talking to that guy on College Drive.” </p> <p class="cb">“Can I ask you a question?” asked Daniel. “What was that about submission?”</p> <p class="cb">“Just something that’s coming out of the chats I’ve been having with people these last few weeks. Marjorie was acting weird, and there was this sense that she was not herself, that she was basically doing what other people wanted. I can’t quite put it into words, but the way people talked about it, she behaved a bit like a submissive. Not quite though. It’s weird. Subs tend to show those tendencies across the board, but Marjorie didn’t do that. It’s like it was switched on and off. But submission doesn’t work that way.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel did not ask her how she knew. Serena had grown silent again, thinking. Back at the bus stop, she seemed to snap out of it, shaking her head. “Okay, then. Bus back? We have ourselves a little show to watch, right?” She smiled at Daniel who responded in kind.</p> <p class="cb">“Indeed. Jenn and Radhu are probably waiting for us by now. Huh, Serena, can I ask? Why did you want me here?”</p> <p class="cb">“You mean that you’re not curious about Marjorie? No, I know, okay. I was just a bit... worried. Really silly of me, I know. But it helps to have my knight in shining armor by my side on such outings.”</p> <p class="cb">“Serena, the day you’re going to need a knight in shining armor to protect you is the day I’ll vote Republican. Right after I join the Army.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena grinned. “Okay, okay.” She became serious. “I received this earlier today, at the paper, and I admit that it spooked me just a little bit. I just didn’t really feel like being alone.”</p> <p class="cb">Daniel picked up the folded piece of paper that Serena was holding out. It was blank except for Serena’s name on the outside, in blue ink, and only a few words printed on the inside. “Stop looking for Marjorie Duquesne, or you will regret it.”</p> <p class="cb">“That’s rather... direct,” Daniel said, after a pause.</p> <p class="cb">“Yeah. Very Sopranos. At least, no horse head in my bed. Yet.” She laughed. Daniel looked at her, unsure of the joke.</p> <p class="cb">“I gotta laugh at it, don’t I? I’m not going to stop, for sure. As I told Jeremy, Marjorie was a friend. And she’s in trouble. That’s pretty clear now. Someone doesn’t want me to find her. So now I just have to find that someone.”</p> <p class="cb">“Serena, I don’t like this. It’s starting to sound dangerous.”</p> <p class="cb">“Then it’s a good thing I’ve got you around to protect me, no?”</p> <p class="cb">The bus arrived before Daniel could say anything in response. When they made it back to the apartment that Daniel and Jenn shared, they could tell from the voices from the living room that Radhu was already there.</p> <p class="cb">“Hi love, I’m back,” shouted Daniel, “and I found someone on the way, just wandering the streets, lonely. Can we keep her?”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn and Radhu were sitting in the living room, talking and drinking. Radhu, relaxed but still sitting straight on the sofa, Jenn looking a little crazed, rising to meet Daniel and Serena as they entered the room.</p> <p class="cb">“Sorry we’re late,” said Daniel, kissing his girlfriend. “Hey Rad, hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”</p> <p class="cb">“No,” Radhu replied. “Just ten minutes. I was regaling your girlfriend here with the latest news about Higgs bosons and what physicist are endeavoring to discover at CERN in the coming years. The latest article in Physics Review Letters is simply fascinating.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn made a face, and mouthed an unmistakable “Help!” Daniel laughed, and sat beside his friend.</p> <p class="cb">“Rad, what did I tell you about talking to women?”</p> <p class="cb">“Jennifer is not a woman, she’s your girlfriend.”</p> <p class="cb">Even Serena had to suppress a giggle at that one. Jenn frowned. Daniel shook his head, then headed off the argument.</p> <p class="cb">“How about you bring me up to speed before we start the show, while we let the ladies catch up?”</p> <p class="cb">“Actually, Jenn,” said Serena, “do you mind if I borrow some comfy clothes for the evening? This is a bit stiff, and I forgot to pack anything else.”</p> <p class="cb">“No problem.” Jenn took Serena by the arm while casting an evil eye at Radhu. “We’ll find you something that fits.”</p> <p class="cb">While Radhu entertained Daniel with the latest updates about the Large Hadron Collider, Daniel set up the entertainment system for their show. He recorded the weekly showings of <i>Kittens’ Den</i>, an HBO series that all of them had been watching together, every Thursday night, for the past six months.</p> <p class="cb">“Do you know what tonight’s episode is about?” asked Radhu.</p> <p class="cb">“Nope.” Daniel fiddled with the remote control.</p> <p class="cb">“I sincerely hope this will not label me a turncoat, as you so colorfully say, but I find myself preferring this series to the original Whedon’s series,” said Radhu.</p> <p class="cb">“Yeah,” replied Daniel, having figured out the right sequence of buttons to press. “Dollhouse was good, but it was needlessly dark and aimless. And following a character without real agency was a tough one. It got a bit better there at the end, but still. Well, this one’s on cable, so I guess it gives them a bit more freedom. I mean, Megan Fox, half naked, right?”</p> <p class="cb">Radhu merely smiled.</p> <p class="cb">“You want something to drink?” asked Daniel, heading for the kitchen.</p> <p class="cb">“No thank you, I’m good.”</p> <p class="cb">When Daniel came back, Jenn had returned with Serena. They had managed to find something for Serena to wear, and Daniel grinned when he saw Radhu’s face, who looked as close to having his eyes bulge out as he ever had. And for a good reason, thought Daniel. Serena had on one of his girlfriend’s camisoles, which was exceedingly tight across her generous chest—somewhat larger than Jenn’s—as well as a pair of cotton shorts that were just as tight. She looked relaxed and demure, and sexy as all hell, a picture out of a lingerie catalog. Daniel took an appreciative look at Serena’s long legs, then shrugged at Jenn as if to say “what can I say, they’re nice,” adding a look that was meant to convey “but I prefer yours.” Jenn smiled in return. She was also dressed to lounge, but she had chosen a long flowing cotton dress that hugged her curves.</p> <p class="cb">He noted, not for the first time, how lucky he was to have such wonderful and beautiful girls around him—Serena the exotic firecracker, with the body of a wild beast, and Jenn the elegant beauty, with the body of a graceful toned dancer. Daniel was certain that had Radhu been able to voice an opinion at that moment he would have agreed.</p> <p class="cb">Everyone settled down around the living room in the pattern that had evolved over all those television or movie nights that had become their biweekly routine—a semi-structured way for them to spend some time together, the three musketeers who were really four. They often would pick a series to watch and religiously follow it; they went through much of <i>Lost</i> that way, the first few seasons of <i>Heroes</i> before it became unwatchable, and of course <i>Dollhouse</i> until its cancellation. Jumping ship to the knock-off <i>Kittens’ Den</i> was a step they had taken with the collective equivalent of an amused grin, fully expecting to mock the new show and then move on to something better. </p> <p class="cb">To their surprise, the pilot episode of <i>Kittens’ Den</i> had turned out to be good, and the following episodes were watched with interest, a phenomenon that was repeated across households the whole country over. The show received phenomenal ratings, especially considering that it was essentially a science-fiction show, and broadcast on a cable network. That last fact certainly helped the show runners, since they were not subject to the usual broadcast restrictions.</p> <p class="cb">The setup of the show was similar to that of its inspiration—a large corporation develops a mind-imprint technology that it uses to supply a special service to wealthy customers, namely the rental of women with specifically designed personalities. Those women are housed in residences where they are taken care of and kept docile between assignments. When a customer shows up with a specific need, a suitable host, campily called a kitten, is chosen and imprinted with the requested personality, and loaned to the client. After the agreed-upon completion of the assignment, the kitten returns to the den and her mind is wiped, until a new customer requires her service. Swap out kittens for dolls, and you had <i>Dollhouse</i>. One difference, made abundantly clear as early as the pilot episode, was that while <i>Dollhouse</i> used sex and sexual fantasies for titillation and fan service only and focused on customers with somewhat unlikely needs, <i>Kittens’ Den</i> took the much more believable narrative path that in all likelihood kittens would be used primarily for sexual gratification—for a fee, you could get a beautiful girl with a body to kill for and a personality that could be adjusted to be anything you wanted, to enact any kink, any fetish, any twisted scenario your mind could devise. </p> <p class="cb">Both shows’ main storyline revolved around a discussion of the ethics of using mind imprints, but told that story differently: <i>Dollhouse</i> focused on the dolls, while <i>Kittens’ Den</i> used the staff of the corporation and their customers to advance its story arc, the kittens essentially playing the role of victim-of-the-week. The show had managed to land various actresses to guest spot as kittens, and that the vast majority of those stars had ended up naked and doing something sexual on screen had people flocking. Megan Fox had been a particularly popular guest, so much so that she had started to make regular appearances.</p> <p class="cb">That night’s episode, the musketeers were to discover, was focused on Fox’s character, a kitten with a past, and explored that past. As Daniel and Jenn cuddled together under a blanket at one end of the couch, and Radhu and Serena sat in two seats at the other end, Radhu with his long legs extended before him, Serena with her own folded under her and sipping a steaming mug of tea, the show started and quickly jumped into the story of Fox’s character.</p> <p class="cb">It sounded familiar to the musketeers: Fox’s character, before becoming a kitten, was a friendly girl, a freshman in college, who just happened to reject the advances of some wealthy jerk in some Chicago bar. The man took his revenge by having the poor girl essentially abducted and turned into a kitten. He then paid to be able to have his way with her, whenever he felt the inclination. The personality he chose for her, more often than not, was her original personality, slightly adjusted to make her more receptive to his advances.</p> <p class="cb">“Hey, that’s just Sierra’s backstory from Dollhouse,” commented Radhu mid-show. </p> <p class="cb">“Except there it was just a single scene and mostly dialogue,” replied Serena.</p> <p class="cb">And indeed, rather than simply hint at the ordeals of the character, the episode chose to dramatize the event, from the character’s initial meeting of the wealthy jerk to the first time the character visited him on kitten assignment, wearing the same short white dress she had worn at that first meeting, a dress that left very little to the imagination, complete with a tall pair of come-get-me heels, white as well. The character looked positively virginal, the white material contrasting with the olive skin of Fox, who played the role with an intensity that was refreshing considering her previous movie outings. And when her character went on to seduce the wealthy jerk, who of course had arranged the whole scenario and took a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction in making her character beg to be taken and used, the world had its first glimpse of Fox fully naked, after a small striptease that undoubtedly stained the crotch of millions of male teenagers, followed by the unexpected scene of Fox’s character servicing the wealthy jerk. Now that was television to guarantee ratings.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn harrumphed. “Okay, so she’s beautiful, in a vapid empty sort of way. I don’t see why everyone on this planet is so infatuated with her, though.”</p> <p class="cb">“Well, she is beautiful, with a culturally-appropriate body. Isn’t that enough?” asked Daniel.</p> <p class="cb">“There are thousands and thousands of girls like her, just as beautiful, just as sexy. But Fox seems to be held on a pedestal for absolutely no reason I can discern. There isn’t an iota of personality in those eyes.”</p> <p class="cb">“Perhaps that’s what attracts the common man so much, that utter lack of personality,” said Serena.</p> <p class="cb">Fox’s character on the screen was getting pounced from behind, actively urging her wealthy john to take her deeper.</p> <p class="cb">Radhu, eyes glued to the screen, replied in a mock insulted tone. “Not every man desires vapidity and bimboism. Some of us find personality extremely arousing.”</p> <p class="cb">Serena turned to him. “Radhu, my dear, you are not the common man.”</p> <p class="cb">“Sorry folks, but could you all please shut up and watch the show?” said Daniel, trying for exasperation.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn turned to him and cuddled up close. “Oh,” she said, “are we keeping you from enjoying your favorite actress getting it on? Are we distracting you?” Her hand, hidden under the blanket on their lap, slid down to his crotch. “Oh my, you really like her, don’t you?” Her voice was a whisper in his ear, her breath blowing warm across his neck. She rubbed his cock through his trousers, squeezing and pressing. “You like how she’s getting fucked, right there on the screen? How she’s getting it from behind? I don’t blame you; I may find her a empty-headed bimbo, but she’s got a hot body. I’d do her.” The image conjured in Daniel’s head had the intended effect, and his cock jerked. Jenn laughed softly, and rubbed his cock harder. “Unless it’s the fact that she’s forced to do what she’s doing that turns you on so much, that she’s got no choice but to obey?”</p> <p class="cb">“Hey you two,” said Serena. “Get a room!”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn laughed and settled to get back to watching the show, but kept her hand on Daniel’s crotch. She deftly unzipped his trousers and snuck her hand hand inside, softly caressing Daniel’s cock while he slide her dress up over her legs and caressed them, still hidden by the blanket. He had the fleeting thought that he wished Jenn was more comfortable exposing those legs of hers. Then again, she was more than happy to wear tight clothes, which outlined her legs perfectly, and if she was uncomfortable showing actual skin, that was her business. He was sure there were things about him that she was not completely thrilled about anyways. Compromise—every relationship is compromise, he had learned the hard way. And if one’s extent of compromising is having to accept one’s girlfriend not being comfortable showing off her legs to random people, well, one was a lucky son of a gun.</p> <p class="cb">They watched the end of the episode just like that, and afterwards just left the television on to catch whatever was playing, a movie about zombies in this particular case. It was quiet, very quiet in the apartment. Daniel sneaked a glance over at Radhu and Serena. Radhu was fast asleep, long legs stretched out before him. Serena was asleep as well, her head resting on her folded arms on the side of the one seater.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn, who was still intermittently playing with Daniel’s cock, looked at him. “What?” she asked.</p> <p class="cb">“Nothing. They’re asleep.”</p> <p class="cb">“Does that make us bad hosts?”</p> <p class="cb">“Don’t know, but it does mean that I can be a bit more free to do this,” and he ran his hand on the insider of her thigh, under her dress, and touched the outline of her pussy through her panties, making her gasp.</p> <p class="cb">“What are you doing?” she whispered.</p> <p class="cb">“You’ve been playing with me and teasing me for the past twenty minutes,” he said. “I’m about to go nuts here. So I’m upping the ante.”</p> <p class="cb">“Can’t we just wait until they’ve gone?” she said, before closing her eyes as Daniel slipped two fingers under the flimsy material covering her sex and slid them inside her. She was wet, he noted. Good.</p> <p class="cb">“I can’t wait,” he said. “I want you.”</p> <p class="cb">She turned her head to look at their friends sleeping. “Are you crazy?”</p> <p class="cb">“I’m not crazy, I’m horny. You’ve been teasing me, now’s time to pay up. Only fair. Besides,” he grinned, “I’m cashing this in.” And he handed her a small card. Jenn stared at it, having recognized it immediately, and even though it was dark Daniel could tell by the glow from the television screen that Jenn was blushing. Well, he thought, I guess there’s a first time for everything.</p> <p class="cb">“Now?” she asked. “But—”</p> <p class="cb">“Didn’t you say anytime, anywhere? Your words. Now if you don’t wanna play anymore...”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn stiffened, then shook her head in resolve. “No. I’ll do it. What... what does it say?” She looked at the card. “Order a player you control to perform any single sexual act you desire.”</p> <p class="cb">“Consider yourself lucky that I picked this one instead of any of the other two I have,” said Daniel.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn looked at him. “What do you want?”</p> <p class="cb">“I’ll go easy on you. One of your wonderful blow jobs will do just fine.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn looked at Radhu and Serena one last time, then crouched next to Daniel, ducked her head under the blanket, and pulled his trousers down his thighs. Daniel could not see anything because of the blanket, but he could feel Jenn’s hand on his cock, followed by her warm breath seconds before the took the head in her mouth and sucked, hard. He gasped, and sank down into the sofa, making himself comfortable. On the screen, Woody Harrelson was wielding a shotgun and shooting zombies.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn was really going to town on his cock, and the added effect of not being able to see her seemed to multiply the sensations. Her head was bobbing up and down under the blanket, and a muffled slurping sound could be heard dimly. Jenn was taking his cock in her mouth deep, not bothering to be subtle about it, sucking to achieve maximum effect in the shortest amount of time. Before long his hips were moving to meet her descending lips, and he moaned. He ran a hand over her back, down to her ass, and he squeezed it through the dress. He toyed with the idea of lifting her dress to fondle her directly, and shot a glance to Radhu and Serena to make sure they were still asleep.</p> <p class="cb">He had no reason to think they were not, so he nearly jumped when he saw that Serena was staring right at him. His eyes grew wide, and was about to tell Jenn to stop when Serena shook her head and put a finger across her lips. Jenn’s head was bobbing up and down under the blanket and it was perfectly obvious was she was doing. Radhu was sleeping away.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel watched Serena, who kept her gaze locked on his, as she let her hand travel down from her mouth to her chest, and squeezed one of her breasts, methodically, pinching a nipple through the thin material of the camisole. Daniel’s eyes grew wider as he realized that Serena was getting turned on watching his girlfriend go down on him. He was torn between wanting to stop everything, and just take full advantage of the situation, as eerie as it was. And then the combination of Jenn starting to suck even harder under the blanket and Serena unfolding her long legs and spreading them wide, clinched it. His cock seemed to get even harder, and if Jenn noticed she did not show it. He ran his hand down back to her ass and squeezed again, harder, eliciting a moan from under the blanket. His eyes were glued to Serena’s fingers that were tracing lazy circles on her inner thigh, while he slowly pulled Jenn’s dress over her legs and then over her ass, which she dutifully raised to help him. The way free, he fondled the exposed cheeks, caressing and rubbing and squeezing, unconsciously following the rhythm of Jenn’s suction. Serena was still playing with her breasts and her thighs, teasing herself by almost but not quite slipping her fingers down her shorts.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel felt no such compulsion, and despite the awkward position, slid a finger through Jenn’s panties and ran it through her slit, finding it dripping wet. Jenn moaned around his cock, and simultaneously took him deep into her mouth and lifted her ass up to provide him with better access, allowing Daniel to slide his finger into her snatch, unaware of the show she was putting on. Serena’s eyes left Daniel’s and followed his finger in its in and out motion, fascinated. They kept it up for a few minutes, the muffled sounds of Jenn’s slurping and occasional gagging barely audible over the sounds from the television.</p> <p class="cb">“Jenn,” he whispered, eventually, “fuck, I’m going to come.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn pushed her head down onto his cock one last time, then pulled out from under the blanket, disheveled, her mouth wet and dripping saliva, slightly out of breath, and looking crazed.</p> <p class="cb">“We’re not wasting this,” she whispered back as she climbed onto his lap, her dress bunched up around her waist, at the same time wrapping the blanket around both of their bodies and sinking her wet pussy onto his erect shaft. It felt to Daniel like slipping into a vat of molten wax, it was hot and slippery and felt so good. He groaned, put his hands on her hips as she started to ground them on his lap, pushing her down to produce some friction on her clit.</p> <p class="cb">“The card only talked about one act, I thought,” he joked.</p> <p class="cb">“Screw the card. I’m so horny I can’t think right now. So shut up and fuck me.”</p> <p class="cb">He pushed his hips up in stead of a reply, and Jenn let herself go against him to better appreciate the feeling, trying to remain silent by muffling her gasp into Daniel’s shoulder. As he fucked her—or more accurately, as he let himself be fucked by the beautiful brunette—Daniel sneaked a glance at Serena, who was still watching, with half-closed eyes and a hand underneath her borrowed shorts, and was frigging herself slowly. Daniel could see her hand move under the material, and could just picture Serena’s long fingers playing with her clit and gliding along her outer lips. The image of the tall, beautiful black girl with her long naked legs spread wide and touching herself was unearthly.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn was pumping up and down on his cock with renewed energy, never noticing that they had a spectator. Daniel looked at her. Her eyes were closed, and she was biting her upper lip, whether to prevent herself from making too much noise or because she had lost control of her expression he did not know. He could see the thin film of sweat on her brow, the intensity in her face. She was beautiful. He loved her.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn must have sensed the look, because she opened her eyes and looked right at him, without speaking, just as she pulled herself off his cock in order to push herself down upon it even more forcefully. She was smiling. Daniel knew her enough to know that at that point she wanted to get fucked, thoroughly, hard, to get lost in the sensations of an orgasm being screwed out of her kicking and screaming. But there was no way to do that then, as they had to be careful. So she kept a lid on most of her feelings, and it had the predictable effect of making her even more frenzied and craving release. Daniel could see the conflict in her eyes, and reveled in it. This may have started out as Jenn playing with his fantasies as a matter of gently trying to convince him to follow her to Texas, despite her denials, but right then, she was into it with no ulterior motive, because it turned her on, because it made her hot, because it plugged into fantasies of her own.</p> <p class="cb">In her corner of the room, Serena had moved on, by all appearances, to finger fucking herself. Her hand stretched out Jenn’s shorts, and rhythmically plunged in and out, the motion like a wave or a heartbeat under the material. Daniel could imagine that as well as he could her frigging earlier, her finger, or perhaps fingers, diving smoothly into her silken pussy, sucked in, pistoning in and out without resistance, hugged, squeezed, pulled in deep. Serena’s eyes were alternatively open and closed, watching him and Jenn fucking before her and lost in some internal fantasy. Daniel wondered whether she was imagining herself on top of him, in place of Jenn. He realized that Jenn was fucking him pretty much like Serena had so many years ago, and the parallels forced a shiver through him. Or perhaps, and the thought came unbidden as he looked at Serena a few seconds longer, saw her lips parted and her tongue sneaking out, saw her eyes fixed on the back Jenn’s head, perhaps she was imagining herself in place of Daniel, with Jenn straddling her, kissing her, rubbing against her. That image had way too much power behind it, he opined. He did not know if Serena had any bisexual tendencies—although knowing his highly sexual friend he would not have been in the least bit surprised—and Jenn had never expressed any interest aside from casual mentions in the throes of lovemaking. But the thought of his beautiful girlfriend and his equally beautiful friend together was almost more than he could bear, and of their volition his hips slammed up to meet Jenn’s thrusts.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn noticed the increase in intensity and opened her eyes to look at him, and he returned the look, and in silence, eye to eye, his cock thrusting into her pussy harder and harder, the sounds of sex muffled by the surrounding blanket, they came—Jenn first, biting her lips to keep from screaming, holding on to his shoulders as she tensed like a spring ready to snap before she was overcome by long bone-deep shudders that made her moan to the point that she had to plunge her head into Daniel’s shoulder again, Daniel not far behind her, spurred by her pussy squeezing his cock, his eyes now on Serena, who was also reaching her own climax, her hand jerking harder and harder underneath the shorts and stretching the elastic band, her legs quivering with the buildup of tension, her mouth open, also trying to keep silent, and then going rigid, her hand pressing hard against her pussy, finger undoubtedly pushed deep inside her, her other hand on her wrist as if to keep it from sliding out, her mouth now open in an almost stereotypical O, as her body was raked by shudders that rivaled Jenn’s, and at that point it was too much for Daniel who clenched hard, crunching on the couch, pushing hard into Jenn, knocking the breath out of the poor recovering girl, and came, hard, like a soda bottle shaken and abruptly opened, holding on to his girlfriend, spurting long streams of jizz deep inside her, as she held his head against her and caressed his hair. He could feel her smiling against the sides of his head. He was not sure if he was smiling or grimacing himself. He collapsed back against the couch, Jenn on top of him, as they both tried to catch their breath. On the television screen, Woody Harrelson was making a last stand against zombies in an amusement park.</p> <p class="cb">Daniel figured he had fallen asleep, because the next thing he was aware of was the movie end credits. He looked around. Jenn was cuddled up next to him, prim and proper again, if sporting a satisfied smile. Serena was composed at her end of the room, also looking satisfied. Radhu was sleeping still, stirring vaguely. Serena caught Daniel’s eye, and she winked at him, a sweet smile on her lips.</p> <p class="cb">Jenn was the first to stand, stretching herself like a cat, whereupon Serena did the same. The movement woke Radhu, who looked around, seemingly lost.</p> <p class="cb">“Huh... what... did I fall asleep?”</p> <p class="cb">“Yup, buddy. About two hours ago.”</p> <p class="cb">“Aw crap. Shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night.” His voice trailed off, his eyes glued on Serena’s rear as she left the room. Daniel laughed inside, wondering how his friend would have reacted to seeing Serena pleasuring herself earlier. He’d have probably popped a few neurons, he thought. Poor boy. Perhaps one day.</p> <p class="cb">They talked for a bit, while Serena was changing back into her day clothes, and Jenn cleaned up the remains of their snacks.</p> <p class="cb">“Okay guys, I should get going,” said Serena from near the entryway. “Thanks for the evening, as usual.”</p> <p class="cb">“Hold on, Serena. I’m leaving with you,” said Radhu. He still looked somewhat shell-shocked. “Wow, sorry about dispatching like I did tonight.”</p> <p class="cb">“Don’t worry about it,” replied Daniel, clasping his friend on the shoulder. “Just good to have you around, you know.”</p> <p class="cb">They made their way to the entrance of the apartment, where Serena was waiting for them, looking composed and professional once more, and where Jenn, looking sleepy, came to join them. She slid her arm around Daniel’s waist. “All right, you two. Have a safe walk back. And we’ll see you tomorrow.”</p> <p class="cb">“Sure,” said Serena, and she hugged Jenn. Daniel saw her whisper something in Jenn’s ear. Jenn blushed almost immediately, turning redder than Daniel had ever seen her, and just as she was about to say something, Serena put a finger on her lips, shushing her. She then smiled, nodded to Daniel, and turned to leave. Radhu, looking very much like a man who had missed something interesting, gave Daniel a quizzical glance. Daniel shrugged his shoulders, and put his arm around Jenn, who was still faintly flushed. When the door closed behind their friends, Jenn turned to Daniel. “How much... how much did she see?”</p> <p class="cb">“Pretty much the whole thing, I’m afraid.”</p> <p class="cb">“Why didn’t you...?”</p> <p class="cb">“Tell you? Love, given how you were going, I wouldn’t have been able to stop you even if I had wanted to. You were hot! And besides, I think Serena enjoyed it very much.”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn looked into Daniel’s eyes.</p> <p class="cb">“I’m not surprised. Ah well.” She kissed him, softly, on the lips.</p> <p class="cb">“Why, what did she tell you?”</p> <p class="cb">Her kiss became more forceful.</p> <p class="cb">“I’ll tell you later. Maybe. For now, though, how about you take me to the bedroom and fuck me properly? The itch is not quite gone yet.”</p> <p class="cb">“And the thought of Serena watching you as you jumped me has nothing to do with this itch, does it?”</p> <p class="cb">Jenn never answered the question, and simply pulled Daniel with her to the bedroom.</p> </body> </div> <p class="cd">Posted: <i>May 6, 2010</i></p> <p class="cd">Edited: <i>March 24, 2011</i></p> </html>

Author: Bulgroz the Third Title: The Adjusters #39 - Charlie and the Convent of Oblivion (I) Keywords: MF, mc Posted: April 2, 2013 Edited: April 2, 2013 The Adjusters #39 Charlie and the Convent of Oblivion (I) Story by J. Dumas. First appeared in Flights of Erotic Fantasy Magazine, Vol. 13, Nos. 7-8. (1) It was year four hundred and seventeen of the Renascence Era, forty-one years since the Great Darkness War, one year past the end of the reign of King Altobar the First, the Hero of the War, Bringer of Peace. It was the first year of the reign of Queen Helena, daughter of King Altobar the First, a reign that was destined to be unlike that of her wise and just father. For Queen Helena ruled through fear and repression, levying crushing taxes and imposing exhausting yield requirements on peasants. Rumors most vile floated throughout the kingdom about the Queen; rumors that she was but a puppet in the hands of the real master of the land, her cruel and ambitious Prime Chancellor; rumors that she shared her bed with the Chancellor and allowed him the most perverse liberties with her young body; rumors that the Court of Queen Helena was one of vanishing morals and depraved indulgences. The Royal Guard of late King Altobar the First, the elite knight troop in charge of protecting the late king's person, was held to be traitorous, accused of having orchestrated his assassination in a cowardly fashion during a Blood Sacrifice Ceremony. The Royal Guard was outlawed, and its knights were hunted throughout the kingdom, by orders of Queen Helena herself. They were to be executed when found. The knights of the Royal Guard--thirty-one of the most valiant and dedicated knights in the kingdom--were widely know, and there was little possibility of hiding. More than a dozen had already been captured and beheaded after having had their limbs cut off and fed to dogs, the punishment prescribed by Queen Helena under advice from her Prime Chancellor. The remaining knights kept a low profile, seeking a lonely and isolated existence in the deep woods or in the more desolate regions of the land, unwilling to risk the lives of faithful friends or family by asking for help. It was said that several knights of the Royal Guard crossed the Impossible Range into the Forbidden Region whence the Darkness came to start the Great War. It was also said that these knights were as good as dead. Lady Charlotte of Artagnia, Royal Guard to late King Altobar the First, was not dead, and did not seek to cross into the Forbidden Region. She had been poisoned by a magical philtre concocted by a Dark Mage, a magical philtre that twisted her mind and turned her into a slave to one of her former enemies. In the thrall of said philtre, she had witnessed the assassination of the king and managed to escape, seeking both to save her life and to search for Count Oliver of Athia, her lover and a fellow knight of the Royal Guard. Alas, Charlie, as she was known to her friends, was cursed. The philtre she had ingested begat a magical form of blood fever, a rare but dreaded affliction that prevented a woman from living a normal productive life. An attack of blood fever was characterized by an increase in body temperature accompanied by a corresponding increase in irresistible lust. An afflicted woman, in the throes of an attack, was unable to resist the call of her mating nature and surrendered to her vilest desires in order to bed anyone, man or woman, until her ravenous lust was satiated. It was said that bedding a woman in the throes of blood fever was the most incredible sexual experience one might experience in one's life. Blood fever was a little understood illness in a world where illnesses were rarely understood. It was incurable, and invariably led to death. And Charlie suffered from a magical blood fever, practically unknown to everyone but a small contingent of sorcerers who dabbled in the Dark Arts, which included frequent almost constant attacks of increasing strength and crippling madness. Magical blood fevers were not deadly, unless one counted the victims killing themselves to ease their suffering. Charlie, escaping from the castle the late King Altobar the First held court, suffered her first attack of blood fever as she rode through the large expanse of the Northern Woods. The pangs of desire were easy to ignore at first, no worse than the general horniness that would sometimes fall upon her when she went without her lover Oliver's cock snuggled up inside her for too long. But these pangs, soon grew worse, her loins stirred and growled and her pussy clamored for attention, to the point where the rubbing from the saddle threatened to bring her off. Giving in, Charlie dismounted and lay down in a shelter grove deep in the Northern Woods. Increasingly unable to think due to the rising heat from her pussy, Charlie shed her tunic and was violently fucking herself with a smooth piece of wood she had unearthed when two loggers came upon her on their way back to their village, pulling a cartful of great oak timber behind them. The two men, despite their surprise and their initial suspicion--for it was not an unknown ruse for cutthroats to rely on pretty girls as bait to lure horny victims into their traps--soon relented after Charlie begged them in terms most arousing to ravage her however they wanted, as hard as they wanted, for as long as they wanted. It took nearly an hour before Charlie was satiated and the fire in her pussy was doused. That the two men were prime specimen of maleness was convenient, for they had taken her over and over in a multitude of positions, fucking her mouth and her pussy and even her ass, indulging their deepest and harshest fantasies with her body as they realized that the beautiful woman upon which they had stumbled not only did not mind such rough handling but practically beseeched them for it. Charlie came whenever they did, whether they elected to spew their seed deep inside her body or all over her tanned skin. It was, to the two well hung but ultimately superstitious men, as if she was possessed, and after gorging themselves of her body, they left her in a large puddle of their combined juices, satisfied, her skin burning, replete with cum and lust. The adventure troubled Charlie, who had rarely known fear. Just as she had when she was given the magical philtre that turned her into a pleasure slave, she was losing control of her body. But there was little she could do to counteract the blood fever attacks, and so she got dressed and continued riding, grateful that the men had not taken advantage of her derangement to steal her horse or her weapons. Her luck in that regard did not hold for long. After four more attacks of blood fever in the Northern Woods, during which she mated with any man she managed to get her hands on, giving herself with a desperation that for many was an aphrodisiac more powerful than her perfect body, she came to alone in a glade, naked but for her ripped tunic, covered with hardened cum, and her horse, sword, and daggers gone. Cursing the gods that had deemed her deserving of such a fate, she wandered into a nearby village, shivering from the cold, sick and hungry. Her blood fever attacks were coming closer together, and were getting stronger, much to the pleasure of the men that happened to cross her path. Shivering, her cunt on fire and demanding male flesh, Charlie crashed through the door of the Last Draught Inn. What might have befallen poor Charlie had she not been found by the good sisters of the Covenant of Whispered Inspiration? The Covenant of Whispered Inspiration was a Theistic Order known throughout the kingdom for their devotion to downtrodden and suffering women, a growing population under the harsh reign of Queen Helena. The sisters took the care of such women to be their sacred duty, dictated by the One God that they worshipped. And so it was that upon being found by Sister Dehlia of the Covenant of Whispered Inspiration in a small room in the attic of the Last Draught Inn, being rented out to any patron able to spare a piece of silver for a half-hour of unbridled passion driven by the unnatural lust of a full-blown magical blood fever, Lady Charlotte of Artagnia was brought to the cloister of the Covenant of Whispered Inspiration. (2) Novice Sarah, back when she was still Sarah of Charnia, had decided to join the Covenant of Whispered Inspiration after a long struggle with her conscience. As the second daughter of her serf father, she was of no use to the family as a bride for a wealthier family, which would have brought the little family a few gold coins that might have proved sufficient to keep them fed through the harsh winter that kept the soil from producing more than the bare minimum that Lord Charnia, the owner of the land, required of them. One of Sarah's choices, if such they could be called, had been to join the house of Lord Charnia as a servant, a prospect that said Lord had relished as Sarah was beautiful, fair skinned and golden haired like her mother was. The way Lord Charnia had looked at her that first time he had visited their little farm had reminded Sarah of a falcon tracking a field mouse before pouncing. She knew, deep in her heart, that Lord Charnia would have turned her into a pleasure girl for him and his familiars. That was what he had done with her best friend, Fawn. Sarah remembered the night when Lord Charnia came to claim Fawn, who had come into maturity as a beautiful tall redhead with breasts that every girl in the burg envied and every boy fancied. Sarah had stood by, helpless, powerless, able only watch and cry as her friend was dragged away against her will by soldiers. Her friend's family stood by her, their faces broken with worry and with the knowledge that there was little they could do. Sarah would later hear rumors of the horrors that had been inflicted on poor Fawn in the Lord's household. For Fawn had become a pleasure girl, and the pleasures that assuaged the Lord's lust were of the kind to prevent Sarah from sleeping for nearly a fortnight upon hearing of them. She never saw Fawn again. Sarah's only other choice, the one choice that Lord Charnia would accept, however reluctantly, was to join a Theistic Order, to devote her life and her body to the gods. The law of the land still forbade the Lord of a domain to interfere with divine vocation, even under a sovereign as corrupt as Queen Helena. Once she had decided to go the vocational route, Sarah had been keenly aware that Lord Charnia viewed her too tasty a treat to lose her to a life of wasted abstinence. After all, stories of abduction were not rare, especially when they involved virginal girls whose beauty and worth far outweighed potential repercussions. Sarah had tricked Lord Charnia by initially conveying to him by writing that she was accepting the Lord's offer to join his seraglio, much to the Lord's gleeful and lewd joy, before absconding in the middle of the night to meet Sister Dehlia of the Covenant of Whispered Inspiration. The choice of which Theistic Order to join had been the easy one to make. The sisters of the Covenant of Whispered Inspiration were known for their pious life, their good works, and for their care of ill women. That they worshipped a single god in contrast to most other Orders was odd, and that they expressed their devotion and cultivated their worship by never speaking louder than a whisper was odder still, but the Covenant proscribed any manner of contact between sisters and males, and such was exactly what Sarah wanted, even if she did not know it at first. She still shivered whenever she thought back to the stories she had heard about Lord Charnia, and the fate of Fawn. And so it was that Novice Sarah, latest addition to the Covenant of Whispered Inspiration, was being given her duties by Sister Margaret, who greeted all new arrivals to the Covenant and introduced them to their novitiate, their path to full sisterhood. Sister Margaret was a tall and thin woman, of indeterminate age, whose whispers had a lispy quality. "As you were told, Novice Sarah," she whispered, "All novices are expected at first to devote their time to our charge. After two years, you will begin your instruction into the Covenant proper, and should you be successful, you will subsequently join us as Sister Sarah." Sarah nodded, knowing she was not to speak unless asked a direct question. Sister Margaret, her long white gown flowing, walked her into the wing of the convent dedicated to the care of the ill. It was a large flat structure, detached from the section of the cloister housing the sisters and accommodating the day-to-day activities of the Covenant. "The blood sinner are housed here," Sister Margaret whispered, motioning to a large room filled with beds and partitioned with hanging curtains. Blood sinners was how the Covenant referred to victims of blood fever. They judged the affliction a chastisement from their One God to sinners of the flesh, but still maintained that they were worthy of care, if not of salvation. "In here, their needs are seen to, and their urges are soothed. The novices that you see strive to assuage their ills and pains." Women of all kinds filled the beds, young and old, pretty and ill-favored, frail and strong. They were all quiet, subdued, and Sarah could not help but notice an almost vacant gleam in most eyes. "Yes," Sister Margaret whispered, either because she saw the look on Sarah's face, or because every novice asked the same question at that point, "they have been given a draught to keep them calm and abate their ardors. Have you ever seen the effects of blood fever?" "No, Sister Margaret." Sarah had never seen the effects of blood fever, but she had heard of them, from tales told around fires during warm autumn months. Tales of women overtaken with vertigo, seizures, unquenchable impulses. Tales of women driven to commit unspeakable acts by impulses that seemed spurred by Demons. Tales of women dying after their blood ran so hot that it boiled in their own veins. Fawn had been an avid partaker of such tales. "Before your first month is over, child, you shall have witnessed the evils of blood fever. And you will understand the need for the quieting draught. When some of our blood sinners are feeling well enough, they can be taken in the inner courtyard, where they can play and read and socialize if that is their intent. But the draught is distributed whenever their temperature increases in the slightest. Ah, High Novice Gertrude," Sister Margaret whispered as a portly woman bearing the blue gown of the novitiate approached slowly. "Sister Margaret," the new arrival whispered, bowing her head. "This is Novice Sarah, the newest addition to our small congregation." High Novice Gertrude nodded at Sarah, her face unreadable. Sarah smiled and nodded back. "High Novice Gertrude here is in charge of the blood sinners' ward," Sister Margaret continued. "She has been with us for..." "A long time already, Sister Margaret," Gertrude replied, her voice sounding harsh even under the cover of whispers. "But I do so enjoy taking care of these poor miserable souls, and I see no hurry in moving on." "Beware that Devotion does not turn to Pride, High Novice Gertrude," Sister Margaret whispered back. "May the One God preserve me from such a downfall," Gertrude whispered back. Sister Margaret nodded. "Novice Sarah, I leave you in the capable hands of High Novice Gertrude. I will see you again in three months time, when you shall keep me appraised of your progress. Good day, and may we all whisper with the One God." "May we all whisper with the One God, Sister Margaret," Sarah whispered, bowing her head. "May we all whisper with the One God," Gertrude added, bowing as well. When Sister Margaret, after bowing to other novices along the way and nodding to at least one blood sinner who stretched out an arm towards her as if to claw her leg before two novices rushed to her side to subdue her, Gertrude sighed and turned to Sarah, her whispers sounding even harsher. "Well, I guess it's a welcome, then, Novice Sarah." "Thanks?" Sarah did not know how to read the older novice. "Anything you want to know that the old cunt didn't say?" Sarah was taken aback by Gertrude's language. Gertrude merely laughed, softly, under her breath, a wheezing sound that chilled Sarah's bones. "You should see your face. Yes, Sister Margaret's an old cunt. All the sisters are old cunts. And they should be--they ask us, what, to spend at least ten years in the novitiate, before deigning to let one move on over to sisterhood? And treating us as slaves in the interim? Pretty convenient, don't you think?" "If you are so unhappy," Sarah whispered, "why are you staying here?" "And do what? Go back home to work my bones off on the family farm, tilling a ground that is too dry to even produce those roots that forrest raccoons sneer at disdainfully and getting boned every night by my stupid ass half-brothers? Head to the nearby burg and become a pleasure girl so that a man can slobber over me all night while barely paying enough for me to afford the rent of the small room where they rob me of my last shreds of dignity?" Sarah wanted to reply, but found herself without words. Aside from the cynicism and the bitterness in Gertrude's voice, it was a reflexion she had had herself, one that had led her to the Covenant as surely as Gertrude's seemed to have. "It is an unfair world, this one," she whispered. Gertrude's sneer softened, and she wrapped her arm around Sarah's shoulders. "That it is. And any fairness we seek must be bought at the cost of blood. I like you, Sarah. I believe we shall become friends." Sarah smiled uncertainly, as she was unsure that she wished for a friend like Gertrude. "Let me introduce you around," Gertrude whispered. And she did, walking around the ward and introducing Sarah to the other novices, who all seemed to treat Gertrude as the dean of this section of the cloister. Gertrude also introduced her to several of the blood sinners, taking some time with each to describe in explicit detail the effect of their blood fever. For every woman afflicted by a blood fever externalized her symptoms differently, beyond the common and overpowering need for sexual release. One blood sinner in the middle of an attack would start screaming in pain as if her insides were being turned to boiling stew. Another blood sinner would start to shake uncontrollably in so violent a fashion that she had bitten off her own tongue and had scratched off one of her eyes. Another blood sinner would believe that everyone around her was conspiring to hand her over to the Inquisitional Orders and would scream and attack even as she was being taken by a man. Most of the blood sinners on the ward were soothed by the quieting draught that was prepared in the kitchens beneath the ward, and whose vaguely acrid flavor permeated the air. Sarah, affected by all she was learning, approached a corner of the ward and indicated a sheet of linen hung from the ceiling and curtailing this section of the ward from rest. Gertrude hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision and pulled the sheet, letting Sarah through. There was a bed, like the other beds in which the blood sinners lay. On the bed, sleeping deeply, was a beautiful woman, her body relaxed underneath the white sheets drawn upon her. Even though she was covered, Sarah could tell she was strong, and was probably a warrior--she had seen them often enough when her older brother came back to the farm with some of his fellow soldiers. Their aura was unmistakable. This woman in the bed was such a warrior, if not more, thought Sarah. And close to the truth was Novice Sarah, for on the bed, knocked out by a heavy dose of the quieting draught whose recipe the Covenant of Whispered Inspiration guarded almost jealously, lay Lady Charlotte of Artagnia, knight of the Royal Guard of the late King Altobar the First. "Beautiful, isn't she?" Gertrude whispered with her usual harshness. She was looking at Sarah carefully. Sarah nodded mechanically, her eyes on Charlie, who did not move a muscle, lying on the bed as if on a memorial dais, as if her body simply waited to be slipped onto a funeral pyre and sent back to the One God. "Is she...?" Sarah whispered. "Dead?" Gertrude's harsh whisper was so close to Sarah's ear that the young woman nearly jumped out of her skin. "No. She is sleeping. Our little princess here has such a violent blood fever that she requires a dose strong enough to completely knock her out." Gertrude was eyeing Charlie's unmoving form on the bed, and Sarah let her own eyes stray to the older novice, unable to interpret either the tone of voice or the expression in her eyes. Was there malevolence in them? Was a novice of the Covenant of Whispered Inspiration able to feel malevolence toward a fellow human creature? "Who is she?" Sarah whispered. "Nobody knows. She was found in an inn two days' travel from here, a plaything for the lust of men, her blood fever forcing her to give herself away to whomever expressed even the tiniest desire towards her body, driven to exhaust herself in the arts of love with no regard for her own dignity or her own well-being." Sarah's eyes widened and she looked back at the beautiful woman on the bed, whose face was soft and calm and at odds with the harsh words of High Novice Gertrude. Images came unbidden to Sarah's mind, of the warrior in front of her naked, giving herself away like the most shameless of pleasure girls, to men, to women, to anybody. Sarah felt herself grow warm with the wicked stirrings down in her loins that she had learned to recognize long ago and squash mercilessly. She closed her eyes. Sarah felt her lap grown moist with impure longings, and she had to press her thighs together to keep her juices from leaking out, a movement that merely increased the delectable pressure on her hungry cleft. "You like her, don't you?" Gertrude's whisper was even closer against her ear now, and Sarah kept her eyes closed, willing the flush that she was feeling taking over her face to subdue. When she finally opened her eyes, Gertrude was staring at her with a look that Sarah could only describe as calculating, as if she was weighing Sarah's soul against the wickedness of the world. What Gertrude concluded Sarah could not tell from the smile that formed on the high novice's lips. "Let us find you a duty, Novice Sarah," was all Gertrude said as she pulled the sheet on Charlie's bed and took Sarah's elbow. (3) It was two months into her novitiate in the Covenant of Whispered Inspiration that Sarah began to pay attention to the stranger aspects of life on the blood sinners' ward. In those two months, she had learned the ins and outs of life on the ward. She was more attuned to patterns and rhythms less apparent to untrained eyes. The first aspect was that the novices were for all intents and purposes given extremely wide latitude in their behavior towards the blood sinners. Supervision amounted to a single sister holding office in a small room adjoining the main hall. Said supervision varied widely given which of the rotating roster of sisters was in charge. Sister Myrna, for instance, patrolled the ward as if she were a sergeant on soldiering duties and kept a close eye on every novice. Sister Agnes, on the other hand, wasted no time to lock herself in her office and never came out until the first evening prayers. The second aspect of life on the ward that Sarah discerned was that High Novice Gertrude was essentially in charge, except when Sister Myrna was on duty. Anything out of the ordinary was reported to Gertrude, anything requiring confirmation was confirmed by Gertrude, anything requiring authorization was authorized by Gertrude. Once in a while, she would convey a question or a request to the Sister in charge, but in general she would take full responsibility. She clearly relished her power over the other novices in the ward. Sarah was beginning to understand why Gertrude seemed to have no real drive to complete her novitiate and move on to become a full-fledged sister of the Covenant of Whispered Inspiration. Gertrude also took it up herself to care for the blood sinner that Sarah had taken to calling her Fallen Warrior, the brunette that had so captivated her. For Gertrude watched over Charlie like a wild sand-dweller over her eggs, preventing any novice from caring for her, going so far as personally administering the quieting draught that ensured that Charlie remained in her dreamless sleep. On those rare occasions where Gertrude was not on the ward when Sarah was, Sarah would sneak a peek through the drawn sheet, watching her Fallen Warrior, who looked powerful even in her slumber, her face restful. Sarah dreamt--impossible thoughts and impossible acts stirred her loins stir in disturbing and pleasant ways. Sarah was not unknowing of the facts of love, having witnessed animals under her family's care rut and mate and having heard tales from Fawn of what happened between man and wife, and of course, having heard of the tales of depravity of the pleasure girls at the court of Lord Charnia. But none of it explained or assuaged the desires that burned in Sarah's breast as she ran her eyes over the supine form of Charlie, the Fallen Warrior. For Sarah's fantasies were taking a disturbing turn. Sarah had discovered, as all novices discovered upon spending a few months in the blood sinners' ward, that the quieting draught given to said blood sinners to quench the blood fever that forever threatened to overpower their senses left them in an accommodating and suggestible frame of mind. They could be easily swayed, easily convinced of even things they would have normally rejected. This side effect of the quieting draught was helpful in managing the ward, but preventing abuses of such power was one reason why a sister was chosen to supervise the novices. While Sarah, like most novices, did her best not to take advantage of the blood sinners' plight, she also keenly aware that were Charlie to wake up under the effect of the quieting draught, she would be in an accommodating and influenceable spirit. Such a thought was enough to make Sarah's sex grown warm and wet, a feeling she distrusted but could not help herself enjoy. She knew her urges were carnal and immoral, but her womanly juices still flowed like the Northern River when the mountain snows receded. Sarah suspected that Gertrude was keeping an eye on her, watching her, assessing her. Despite her best attempts at keeping a low profile, and restricting the times she peeked behind the sheet to look at Charlie, Sarah knew that Gertrude's sycophants, those younger novices in the thrall of the older craftier woman, reported her every action to Gertrude. The rising tension broke one hot and humid summer day when Gertrude stopped by Sarah's side as she was dressing the fresh wounds on one of the blood sinners, a middle-aged woman whose blood fever led her to lacerate her own hands with her teeth in the throes of unquenchable passion. "This is your lucky day, Sarah," Gertrude whispered, looking at the blood sinner's hands, their ripped skin exposing tendons and nerves. "How so?" "You'll see. Meet me in the fire room downstairs tonight, an hour after the midnight prayers." Before Sarah could ask further questions, Gertrude left, an undecipherable smile on her face. That night, after the last prayer before the sisters of the Covenant adjourned for the night's rest, Sarah found the ward darkened and nearly empty, save for three novices keeping an eye on the blood sinners that remained awake. Sister Agnes was the supervising sister, and as was her habit she was locked off in her office, with nary a sound emerging from behind the heavy door. Sarah walked down the damp set of stairs that ran alongside the eastern wall of the ward and that led to the kitchens underneath the ward. These kitchens prepared special meals for the blood sinners--since common wisdom held that spices and other hot condiments should be withheld from blood fever victims lest their symptoms flare out--and also prepared the quieting draught, the recipe of which was a closely guarded secret of the Covenant. Even the novices in the kitchen were not told of the main ingredient of this most powerful concoction, a sister every week delivering a pouch containing a powdered flour concocted elsewhere in the cloister. The novices diluted the flour in a herbal broth and cooked it carefully for several hours, sending bowls of the mixture upstairs, at suitable doses, twice a day. Next to the kitchens was the fire room, where a large fire whose heat served to not only feed the kitchens but also to warm the entire ward during the long winter nights burned. On this already warm night, the heat in the fire room was oppressive, and Sarah was drenched in sweat. Sarah looked around and saw no one, and for a moment wondered whether she had counted the minutes incorrectly since the midnight prayers. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she let out a yelp of surprise. She turned to find Gertrude behind her. The older novice put a finger on her lips. Gertrude led Sarah to the wall on the left side of the hearth and reached down to press an indistinguishable rock. A click rang out, and to Sarah's astonishment, a pan of the wall pivoted, revealing a passageway. Gertrude gestured for Sarah to follow her inside. They walked down the slanting passageway for what seemed to Sarah like an interminable time, so dazzled she was by the strange surroundings, the flickering light of the torch, and the waves of heat coming from behind her. The passageway led to a door that Gertrude opened. On the other side, a large room, carved out of reddish rocks, was filled with people. Sarah blinked in the light of the several torches that were hanging on the walls. There was a pleasant smell in the air--incense?--and laughter and conversation was abundant. She watched many of the novices mingling about, holding pitchers of colored liquids with strong scents. Sarah was shocked to see men in the room, all of them well dressed--they were not of the nobility, but of the lower bourgeoisie, merchants and investors, as she could tell as soon as she concentrated on the conversations around her. Their presence made Sarah uncomfortable, and she had to fight the reflex to cover herself up. The men were not only talking to the novices, but they were also talking to some of the blood sinners. When she walked through the ward earlier, she had not noticed that so many of the beds had been empty. Those blood sinners were dressed in loose fitting short robes cut so as to expose tantalizing flesh, so much so that Sarah blushed for them. And she could not help but notice that those blood sinners were also the prettiest ones. They seemed to be walking around, touching the men, flirting with them, smiling at them. All of them moved with a slow, almost tentative gait, as if they were walking on a cloud, as if the air around them was an oil through which they swam; all of them with a cloudy expression in their eyes that betrayed a small dose of quieting draught. Sarah watched with fascination, and in silence. One of the blood sinners, a petite young woman with long fair hair and a voluptuous body that the white robe she wore could not conceal, pressed herself against a man that must have been at least twice as large as she was who leaned down to roughly kiss her neck and make her giggle in a slow languorous way. One of the novices approached the couple and, after exchanging a few words with the man, gently guided them to one of several doors on one side of the large room. The novice bid the couple enter, closing the door behind them and standing in front of it as if to guard it. Sarah was getting an inkling of what was happening. She sneaked a glance at Gertrude, who stood next to her, and was not surprise to see the older novice watching her carefully. "You understand?" was all Gertrude said. Her voice, now that she was not whispering, sounded rough. "I think so. The quieting draught. It makes them..." "Malleable. Very malleable. You noticed." Sarah nodded, her eyes going back to the room, then to the door through which the blood sinner had disappeared with the man. She shivered upon imagining what was going on behind the door. Gertrude read the frown that marred Sarah's face correctly. "And you disapprove." She bore a little smile. Sarah clenched her teeth, and did not reply. This was no better than what she had heard of the household of Lord Charnia, and in many ways worse. There might not have been any of the physical abuse and torture and dismemberment of the sort that she had heard Lord Charnia liked to inflict, but here the abuse was mental, and perpetrated on women who could not even acquiesce to the requests made of them. To Sarah, this was slavery, of the most servile and revolting kind. Before she could verbalize any of that, before she even realized that she was willing to go find the sisters and reveal what she had just learned, Gertrude chuckled. "You're such a moral stanchion, Sarah. But I know how to make you bend. Come. They must be finished by now." Gertrude grabbed Sarah's elbow with a firm grip and pulled her to the side, towards a small door guarded by a tall novice that Sarah had seen before but rarely whispered to. The novice glanced at Gertrude. "Are they done?" asked Gertrude. "Just now. He should be out shortly." As if on cue, the door opened, and a large powerful man emerged, fastening his breeches. He lifted his head and grinned at Gertrude. "Gertie! I must have missed you before, when I arrived." He turned his head and noticed Sarah standing near, and his eyes traveled down her body and back up. "Well, well," he said. "What have we here?" He had a thick Southern Realms accent. He took a step towards Sarah, whose eyes went wide. "This is one pretty little thing you brought with you. Where do you find these girls, Gertie?" His eyes trailed down Sarah's body once more. "Can you get me some time with this one next time? She's positively delectable!" Sarah felt her face heat up, whether in embarrassment or in anger she would have been hard pressed to elaborate. The man was eyeing her hungrily, openly, the way Lord Charnia used to do. "Down, boy," grinned Gertrude, and the man laughed in response. "Our Sarah here is a new novice, and not available for your lechery." "A shame that," replied the man, who bowed his head towards Sarah. "Should you ever reevaluate your desire to join Orders, my dear, I dearly hope you shall find it in your heart to send for me, Signore Pasquale di Viroli." "And how was your evening, Signore Pasquale?" asked Gertrude, amused at Sarah's embarrassment. "Delightful as always, Gertie. Your girl drained me raw." His smile was so wide it threatened to tear his face in two. "I imagine she did." "I need to absent myself for the next fortnight, much to my displeasure, but I trust I shall be able to come and visit my bella ragazza upon my return?" "Of course, Signore. She will be here, waiting for you, hungry for more, as usual." The man groaned, and shook his head. "If it weren't for a fear of my heart giving way, I would go back inside and take her once again..." He looked genuinely dispirited that he could not. Gertrude laughed good-naturedly, and took the man by the elbow, like she had done Sarah earlier, but more gently. "She will be here waiting for you, Signore Pasquale. She is not going anywhere." "You should know, Gertie, that I'm very much thinking of purchasing her from you. I'm sure I can put together an attractive offer." Gertrude laughed again, more nervously this time. "Signore Pasquale, surely you jest." "Never when discussing love." "Let me think of it, will you?" "Thank you." He pulled a clanging pouch from his belt, and handed it to Gertrude. "I shall be in touch upon my return." "Happy huntings, Signore." When the man had disappeared down the long room, Gertrude turned back to Sarah, hefting the pouch before opening it. She pulled out a handful of gold coins glittering in the flickering lights. Sarah gave Gertrude with a dark glance. "This is despicable," she whispered. Gertrude smiled once more. "No need to whisper, Sarah. And no need to be so judgmental either. Come with me, I want to show you something." She grabbed Sarah's elbow, and brought her to the door from which Di Viroli had emerged a few minutes earlier. She opened it, and invited Sarah to enter. Following her, Gertrude closed the door behind them. Inside, there was a single small torch slipped into a ring on the wall lightly illuminating a room that had been carved directly into the rock. Near the door lay a water spigot with a large bucket and a few towels. A large fur rug gave the floor a soft feel underneath Sarah's sandals. But Sarah barely noticed, for her attention was drawn to a moaning figure twisting and turning on the bed in the corner of the room. When Sarah's eyes adjusted to the lesser illumination in the small room, she saw Charlie on the bed, writhing in a way that Sarah could only describe as delightful, gloriously naked, her perfect body oiled and reflecting the shimmering light of the wall torch. As Sarah watched, transfixed, Charlie moaned and flailed on the bed, her hands roaming over her body, grasping her large round breasts, diving between her legs, between her thighs, pressing and squeezing and rubbing, as grunts and moans and yelps escaped her lips. Sarah almost jumped out of her skin when Gertrude touched her arm. "You can have her," Gertrude said, in the voice that the Dark Trickster might use to tempt men and women into selling their souls. "She's special, you know. No quieting draught for her tonight. No need for her to be malleable, or agreeable. Just pure blood fever, with no effects except unquenchable lust. What do you say? You can have her." Gertrude's statement struck her like a lightning bolt. You can have her. The disconcerting fire that had been burning between Sarah's legs since she had realized what the blood sinners were forced to do down here had blossomed into a raging inferno that threatened to obliterate her very being. You can have her. The gentle push on her lower back that Gertrude gave her would probably have been unnecessary. There was no reasonable way that Sarah could resist the urges that were slowly but assuredly overcoming her. Something she had dimly discerned just beneath the surface of her identity was emerging to the light, and the full extent of that realization would have certainly dazzled her were it not for the spectacle of Charlie abusing her own body right there in front of Sarah on a cheap cot in a damp cave deep beneath the world. Sarah took two steps towards Charlie, not knowing what she would do once she reached the tall brunette, only knowing it would be fantastic. On getting nearer, Sarah noticed that her initial sense that her Fallen Warrior was simply caressing herself, albeit violently, was incorrect. Charlie was in fact thrusting something in and out of her pussy, a large dark polished bulbous shaft clearly shaped to reproduce a male organ, as Sarah noted with fascination. The shaft was much larger than she believed male organs had a right to be. Charlie did not seem to mind the size, as she thrust the shaft in and out of her pussy, oblivious to the world, her mind caught in the whirlwind that was her blood fever. Sarah had seen sinners in the throes of a blood fever, but nothing quite like what she was seeing then. Charlie's body, her mind, her soul, sought to assuage a craving that had no chance of getting quenched, but she did not--could not--prevent herself from seeking that satisfaction, however futile, however hopeless, the way a man shivering from consumption and longing to catch his breath cannot avoid coughing to clear his lungs. Gertrude watched Charlie on the bed trying to satisfy herself, her gorgeous body racked with spasms, her skin flushed, her large breasts quivering, her legs spread, the evidence of Signore di Viroli's use of her body evident to Gertrude's practiced eye, from the bruises lining the brunette's inner thighs to the bite marks on her breast, from her swollen lips to the streaks of semen marring one side of her face and her hair. Gertrude also watched Sarah, whose eyes were glued to the brunette on the bed, her mouth slightly open, sweat dripping down her brow. Gertrude smiled, congratulating herself at having confirmed her intuition and found a crack through which to corrupt the fair-haired novice. For Gertrude had a gift, that of finding weaknesses in the moral armor of people, and she derived from it a pleasure that rivaled the pleasure her clients sucked out of the sinners they bedded in these blood gatherings she organized four times per lunar cycle. When Gertrude saw Sarah lick her lips and saw her hands twitch--whether to caress herself or to reach over and touch the squirming woman on the bed--she stepped up to Charlie, grabbed the ebony shaft, and pulled it out of her. Charlie groaned and cried out and her opened and sought Gertrude. "Please..." Her voice was scratchy, tired, drowned out. "Please," she moaned again, her hands reaching for the phallus that Gertrude kept away from her. "So thirsty..." Charlie growled, her eyes unfocused. "My friend Sarah here," Gertrude smiled, nodding towards Sarah, "can feed you, dear. Like your last visitor. She is sweet and tasty." Sarah's eyes grew wide again. "Wait..." She was not ready for this. Gertrude pulled a vial from beneath her robe, and in a swift movement uncorked it and tossed its content towards Sarah, splashing the front of Sarah's robe and her face with the sticky liquid. "What are you--" Sarah did not have time to finish, for Charlie, who had smelled the mixture of semen and water with which Gertrude had just splashed Sarah, reacted to the presence of male seed in uncontrollable fashion. All thoughts of begging for the ebony shaft were forgotten as she jumped off the bed in a movement full of grace that betrayed her physical prowess, and she rushed to Sarah, her naked body glittering in the torchlight. Sarah never noticed Gertrude grinning to herself and leaving the room, as Charlie embraced her and pressed her body against hers and licked Sarah's chin and mouth before leading the fair-haired novice into her first kiss with a woman. Charlie kissed Sarah with all the passion her blood fever mustered, her lips biting the fair-haired novice, her hands running down the novice's tunic, sending shivers into Sarah's quickly overloading nervous system. Sarah barely resisted when Charlie unfastened her tunic and pulled it down to her waist, and she moaned in unexpected lust as she felt the damp air of the room lick the tip of her nipples. Her moans turned to groans when Charlie abandoned her lips to latch on to her breasts, hefting them in her strong hands and kissing and licking and biting one and then the other. Sarah had touched herself before, it went without saying, since that first night during her early womanhood years when she discovered that pinching her nipples would send a spasm of pleasure between her legs, pleasure that only increased when she ran her fingers through the rapidly dampening folds of her pussy. But Charlie worshipping her breasts and bathing them with her lips went beyond anything Sarah had ever felt before. Sarah arched her back to give Charlie better access, clutching the hair of the brunette crouching before her, her hips moving of their own accord, gyrating in a futile attempt to find some flesh against which to press themselves. When Charlie released Sarah's breasts and straightened only to attack Sarah's mouth anew, lips pressing hard against lips, tongue wrestling to conquer tongue, teeth biting and drawing blood, Sarah surrendered to all of those feelings that were battering against her resolve, and sank into the embrace of her Fallen Warrior and for the first time in her short life gave herself to another, opening her soul and her body. Charlie, as a trained warrior, as a knight having subdued and destroyed many an enemy in her years serving King Altobar, knew at once that her prey had rolled onto her figurative back and was exposing her vulnerable belly in a show of submission. And despite the fog induced by the magical blood fever, despite the curse that compelled her to seek unachievable sexual release, her training took over and her dominating nature took over and her kiss became more aggressive, her hands on the novice's nubile body became more insistent. Charlie pulled Sarah to herself in an irresistible grip, and ground her thigh between the fair-haired girl's legs, causing Sarah to moan in her mouth. Meanwhile, Charlie's other hand was grasping Sarah's ass, kneading the soft flesh through the coarse underthings that had remained her last item of clothing. Quite suddenly, Charlie stopped and let Sarah go, and the novice stood stunned for a few seconds, unable to comprehend the messages from her body or her mind. Charlie pushed Sarah onto the bed, and in the same smooth movement ripped Sarah's underthings and threw them away. Before Sarah could react Charlie was lying on top of her. Charlie growled as she straddled Sarah and leaned down, her breasts pressing into Sarah's, one leg between Sarah's and pressing in her burning pussy, and she kissed Sarah again, hungrily, rocking her body back and forth, sending shivers running through Sarah's body every time nipples rubbed against nipples, every time thigh pressed into pussy. That love could feel so good had never once crossed Sarah's mind, and she was making up for lost time, sinking deeper into the sensations flooding into her. She racked her nails over the brunette's back, and arched her back to increase contact. "You little cunt," Charlie growled as she let go of Sarah's mouth. She wrapped her mouth around one of Sarah's nipples and sucked hard, and Sarah yelped in shock and pleasure. Sarah had barely enough time to grasp Charlie' hair and clutch it tight before Charlie trailed hard kisses and toothy nips down Sarah's soft stomach. When Charlie slipped her head between Sarah's legs and put her hands on her thighs to push them roughly apart, Sarah let out a whimper but did not resist. Charlie pressed Sarah's legs back, forcing the novice's knees up to her heaving breasts, exposing Sarah's crotch like it never had been before, opening her up like she had never been opened. Sarah felt her skin flush with heat, felt her nipples tighten, felt her juices gush out of her wide open pussy. If Sarah had thought that Charlie's sucking on her nipples had been the paroxysm of sensual pleasures, the wave of raging fire that blasted through every single nerve of her body when Charlie ran her tongue up the whole length of Sarah's dripping slit, parting the engorged lips and teasing the inviting hole that lay beyond, was not unlike a mountain adventurer discovering upon reaching a high peak that it is but the first step in a range of ever higher colossuses dominating the sky. Sarah screamed and clutched at Charlie's head again, pressing the knight's face harder against her crotch. "I'm going to drink you up, you little cunt," Charlie growled, after running her tongue up and down Sarah's pussy, her eyes crazed with lust, her mouth and chin wet with Sarah's juices. "I'm going to suck you dry till you can't walk anymore." Sarah had no words with which to respond, and Charlie pressed hard against Sarah's thighs to keep the novice's legs up and apart and out of the way before licking Sarah's wide open pussy with a vengeance, sucking hard on the aroused clitoris, driving her tongue deep into Sarah's pussy, intent on feeding on every drop of moisture she could find, sucking selfishly and assiduously, driving poor Sarah insane with continuous pleasure. Sarah orgasmed for the first time in her life, explosively, loudly, when Charlie went from digging her tongue deep insider her to sucking on her clitoris while thrusting two fingers in the novice's hungry pussy. Charlie gave Sarah no respite, and Sarah kept coming as Charlie alternated between tonguing her and thrusting two and then three fingers inside her. Sarah's finger where intertwined with the knight's dark locks, and her hips kept pushing up to press her crotch into Charlie's face. Sarah was drenched in sweat and mumbling incoherently when Charlie, her eyes wild from the unchecked blood fever and frenzied by by the taste and feel of Sarah's body squirming in pleasure against hers, reached over to the small table by the bed and picked up the ebony shaft that Gertrude had left there. Charlie leaned into the back of Sarah's thighs, pressing on her legs and forcing the novice's knees to dig into her breasts, the strain on Sarah mingling with the raging blaze coursing through her body. Charlie drove the hard shaft deep into Sarah's pussy in one swift stroke as effective as a killing blow. Sarah exploded, coming again with a scream that must have been heard by everyone in the caves where Gertrude held her blood gatherings. Sarah's orgasms were like rolling thunder, and she clutched at Charlie when the brunette released her legs and slid on top of the novice, straddling one of her thighs, thrusting the ebony shaft in and out with a punishing rhythm. Sarah did not know whether she felt pain or pleasure any longer; her pussy was on fire, and her mind was barely coherent. Charlie sucked and bit on one of Sarah's reddened nipples before facing the fair-haired girl. "You like this, you little cunt? You like being fucked like the hungry bitch you are?" Charlie sneered, and without giving Sarah an opportunity to answer, not that Sarah could have conjured up an answer in her state, kissed her roughly, never letting up the abuse on Sarah's pussy. "Look at you," Charlie continue, her hand pushing the ebony shaft in and out faster and harder. "You're drooling like a pleasure girl about to service an entire soldiers' platoon. And that cunt of yours is gripping this cock for dear life, begging it to fuck you harder, to fuck you blind, to fuck you dumb. Come for me, you stupid little cunt!" Charlie had no control over her actions or her words, no sense of anything she was saying. A sage conversant in the ways of the mind would have wisely asserted that the abuse Charlie was directing towards Sarah was abuse she was directing at herself, aware but unable to disregard her own vile and immoral needs, however magically induced they might have been. Sarah did not know any of this, and did not care. Because at that point Charlie pulled out the ebony shaft completely out of her pussy only to ram it in to the hilt with her considerable strength, sending the tip banging into the depth of Sarah's womb, eliciting the biggest orgasm yet from the poor novice who wailed as spasms of pleasure rippled through her exhausted body. As Sarah came down from her wild high, Charlie, her eyes still mad with lust, in a fast series of motions that betrayed once more her physical prowess, pulled the hard shaft from the depths of the fair-haired novice and straddled one of the girl's legs. Sarah leaned back with heavy-lidded eyes, barely able to move, her limbs sprawled about the bed, her breasts heaving. Even through her post-orgasmic haze, she shivered as she felt the press of Charlie's body against hers, the caress of the brunette's hair on her stomach, the brush of Charlie's breath on her sensitive nipples. Almost reflexively, she pushed her thigh upwards against Charlie's crotch, and a renewed wave of lust hit her when she realized that Charlie was just as wet as she herself had been and still was. Charlie started rubbing her pussy against Sarah's thigh, trying to scratch the itch that had been growing since she first licked up the young novice, in the thrall of her blood fever, unable to resist the dictates of her body, of her pussy, a slave to her magical curse. All Charlie could do was press her hungry pussy against Sarah's thigh and rub up and down. She brought the ebony shaft covered with Sarah's honeyed juices to her mouth, and she slipped it between her lips, tasting the womanly nectar from a male shaft, sucking and savoring the flavor, memories of all the other men and women she had so serviced jumbling in her mind, from the laborers on the road during her escape from the castle of late King Altobar to the large Southern Realms man who had just visited her and had used her roughly and fucked her mouth like a cunt and come all over her and all inside her and made her come so hard she saw stars. Charlie sucked on the ebony shaft and rubbed her pussy against Sarah's thigh, her eyes closed, dreaming of rigid cocks fucking her over and over again in every orifice she had available, some hard, some soft, some fast, some slow, spurting their seed all over her body, her face, her tits, deep in her mouth or deep in her cunt or deep in her ass, cum submerging her, drowning her, obliterating her. Charlie came, her thighs clenching in a vise grip that would the next day leave a mark on Sarah's inner thigh, her hands unwittingly pushing the shaft into her throat, gagging her and choking her. She collapsed onto Sarah, who was herself just coming out of her haze, and watched in rapt fascination and a burgeoning arousal her Fallen Warrior bring herself off with her body. Sarah enlaced the shivering knight and held her, feeling the warmth and the strength of her body. As Charlie kept shivering, moaning softly, Sarah held her tighter, and caressed the brunette's back with gentle hands. As the shivers grew strong, Sarah worried that she had done something wrong, that she had angered the One God. When Sarah looked up from the bed, she saw that Gertrude was standing by the bed, watching silently. Startled, Sarah scrambled to pick up her novice's robe and get dressed. Gertrude was paying no attention to the frazzled novice. She was carrying a bowl filled with what Sarah recognized as the quieting draught, and sat down on the bed next to Charlie to feed her the draught. Charlie drank it without resisting, as if she were a lamb suckling at her mother's teat. The draught seemed to have an almost immediate effect, and Charlie relaxed visibly after a few swallows. Soon, she would be asleep, Sarah knew. "Fun, isn't she?" said Gertrude, watching Sarah with a smile on her face that Sarah could only describe as mocking. Sarah blushed but said nothing in response. Sarah looked from her to Charlie, and what she saw startled her even more than Gertrude's appearance a moment before. Without a word, the novice left the room, shaken. For Charlie's eyes had locked on Sarah's, and for an instant those eyes were full of a frightening lucidity, and Charlie's lips mouthed words that would haunt the remainder of Sarah's night. Help me.

Author: Bulgroz the Third Title: The Girl from the Gym Summary: Kurt Bauer, our mind chameleon, uses his ability on a blonde angel at his local gym. Keywords: MF, Mdom, mc SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF A MIND CHAMELEON THE GIRL FROM THE GYM By Bulgroz the Third You don't crap where you eat, goes the saying. Wise words, if somewhat crude. Yet that's just what I'm about to do, and pretty much with a shrug and a smile. I'm between sets at an abs machine in the gym of J*** University. That's my local gym. Not that I'm a student at J*** or staff or in any way have anything to do with the school. It's just a supremely convenient gym to patronize: just three blocks down the road from my office, reasonable rates for what they call "community users", and a wonderful supply of prime young coed bodies on display -- eighteen to twenty-five year old fit, toned, and scantily-dressed girls. Talk about motivation. Looking around, I see young nubile women, buying into this society's view that to be pretty means to be slim and firm all over. Not that I really mind, of course. Male privilege, I think it's called. Sometimes that bothers me, but not today. I drink in the sights, and can't help but think that some of these girls are purposely on display. See and be seen, every gym's motto. Except maybe for that handful of regulars that show up day in day out, good weather or bad, holiday or not, and get on with their routine without talking to anyone -- hell, without noticing anyone -- there but for the grace of getting their arms bulging or their heart pumping. I remember reading last year in one of the university papers last year this student's rant about my gym. In acerbic prose, she complained about all of these girls, and I quote, pimping themselves up in the locker room, makeup and everything. She was incensed after catching a girl adjust her thong to ensure it was visible over her track pants in a blatant attempt to lure unsuspecting and innocent boys, a praying mantis on the prowl for a mate and a snack. Innocent, my ass! Most gyms are, for better or for worse, meat markets. See and be seen. At least, one can still push a workout through all this nature channel mating behavior. My name is Kurt Bauer, and I hit the gym four times a week, early in the morning. I've always found it to give a superb start to the day, working out body kinks before getting to the business of investing money and advising others on how to invest money. The world of international finance may sound attractive, even glamorous, but its day to day humdrum is just as boring as any other job. Unlike others, I'm not obsessive about finance, so while I am not a millionaire I make up for it with some amount of free time. I have been out of town for much of the last few months, and decided that this week I should stay put and try to catch up everything that needed catching up on. And reclaim a semblance of workout schedule in a gym I knew and enjoyed and not some hotel gym equipped with a BowFlex and a treadmill. And thus it came to pass that, a couple of day ago, I spotted this girl for the first time -- medium height, light blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, sporting the tight and toned body of a distance runner. She was straddling one of the StairMaster machines that line the way to the weights room, and like kids to an ice cream truck my eyes were drawn to her legs, exposed to great advantage by a pair of running shorts that bared much of her thighs, straining with her efforts. I wasn't the only one that had noticed either, if the many young men and not few women who sneaked a glance up the toned body as they passed by were any indication. Admiring her curves, I idly wondered what her long legs might feel like wrapped around my head as I ate her out, or how the firm ass that anyone could discern through her shorts would feel like in my hands as she rode me to climax like a deviant cowgirl on a mad bull. I flushed that idea out of my head presto; it's never a good idea to entertain such distractions while lifting a couple hundred pounds over one's chest. And it was not just the risk of debilitating injury that slowed me down. As a general rule, I try not to pick up women near where I live or work. With my idiosyncratic ability, it tends to complicate matters more than anything else. You see, I am what I like to call a mind chameleon. I can get some people to see me as some other people for a short period of time. In fact, let's not mince words here -- through some cosmic snafu, I can get girls to see me as whomever gets their motor running at the moment, if you see what I mean. So yes, I'm a freak, but a sexually satisfied freak. Unfortunately, some kind of negative feedback seems to occur when a girl sees me after we have shared a, shall we say, experience with me. The details vary. Sometimes she will suddenly realize what happened -- that some sort of impersonation took place -- sometimes she will harbor an instant dislike to me without knowing why, and sometimes she will instead take a fancy to me, again without knowing why. Regardless, it is a problem, and I therefore tend to indulge only when I'm traveling. Once in a while, though, a girl will test my resolve. Today is such a day. I'm between sets at the abs machine, and as I catch my breath, my eyes wander over to the row of elliptical machines and StairMasters. There among the breast-bouncing cuties happily climbing stairs that lead nowhere is my blonde angel with the tight runner's body. Her breasts are not bouncy; they are either nonexistent or she's wearing one of those sport bras that rival corsets of old. Considering that she does not seem to have a single ounce of unnecessary fat on her body, my money's on the former. I must have been staring because I suddenly realize that she is looking right at me. I give her my best sorry-for-staring-but-wow smile, and she returns a small smile of her own before turning her attention back to her machine. She may have a magazine splayed out in front of her, but I doubt it; she seems too serious for that. I finish my workout in the next thirty minutes, cycling through arms and back exercises. I keep sneaking glances at blondie as I move around the gym. She is near perfect, as if drawn by a seriously horny artist, and I even love the way her ponytail bobs up and down as she powers through the StairMaster's routine. I finish my workout as I usually do, with a three-miles run on the interior track of the gym. Few people are running and the track, an engineering tour de force suspended over the squash courts below, is quiet. Through glass windows the row of elliptical machines and StairMasters is visible, and on every go-round the track I glimpse blondie's little rear energetically pumping up and down. I wonder if she's wearing a thong. I sigh, not necessarily easy when out of breath, and make a concerted effort to quit my gawking. Yes, she is attractive. Yes, I wouldn't mind discovering what those toned legs of hers would feel like wrapped around my waist. Yes, I wonder how deep she could swallow me. The usual questions. But I have rules for a reason, and I'll be damned if I break them today. I put my head down, jack up the volume on my iPod, and focus on lap ten of twenty-five. Damnation lies on an exercise mat in a corner of the track by lap thirteen. Elevated platforms fill the rounded corners of the track where people often stretch or do floor exercises, perhaps because those spots afford them more privacy than the large floor mats in the central part of the gym. Whatever the reason, my blonde angel, who evidently finished her routine, is currently stretched out on her back on a mat by the corner in which I am heading, and I have a long stretch with nothing to do but look right at her and take in the awesomeness that is her body. I then get treated to a dozen laps of my own personal peep show, seeing as I am the only one on the track by that point. And what a show it is. Ever noticed how floor exercises, when done right, bear an astonishing resemblance to stripper routines? I am reminded of that observation as I watch blondie stretch a taut body before me every time I take the last straight line of the track. She starts with simple stretches, lying on her back, legs extended, arms reaching up above her head. By my next lap, she has shifted to her side, and she is lifting a leg up, extended straight, in a sort of scissor move. I get to take in the perfect line of her leg, and note how her skin is nearly golden. Same move on my next lap, with the other leg this time, and facing away from me. My eyes are rather unwittingly glued to her shorts, which get pulled over her ass as her leg lifts, calling attention to its indubitable tightness. I can't believe I'm the only one around seeing this. On my next lap, she has moved on to glute exercises, on her back with legs folded at right angle, knees up, feet flat on the ground, as she slowly lifts her hips, rotating her pelvis, keeping her knees together and her upper back on the mat. Given where my mind has been for the past half-hour, the movement is almost obscene. She looks as if she was reaching up to a lover, offering herself to his thrusts, urging him to take her faster, deeper, stronger. I try and fail to not look at where her shorts are stretched between her legs, imagining how her pussy lips look, how wet she gets when turned on. The next lap brings her coup de grace. She is on her hands and knees, back straight, head down, and gives me plenty of time to admire her ass and how it leads into her upper thighs -- her shorts almost let her cheeks peek out. Too bad. She then lifts a leg away from her body, keeping it folded at right angle, like a puppy relieving herself against a wall. By the time I make it around the track again, my blonde angel is up and picking up the mat she had brought with her. I take in her body as a whole yet again, and idly wonder whether she can feel my eyes roam up and down her legs. I suppose she does; I recall reading somewhere that girls are often perfectly aware of all those old creepy perverts hanging around gyms. At least I am not old. When my eyes finally make their way up to her face, I realize she is looking at me. Caught again. I almost miss a step. She does not seem particularly bothered by my obvious attention; she gives me a little almost shy smile and steps off the corner platform, mat tucked under one arm, a towel in the other. I only have a few seconds to make up my mind and throw all my sensible rules out the window. If not for that last look, I might have let her go, but that look held too much promise. Instead of rounding the track when I reach the platform she has just left, I step over it and keep on running, slowing down as I approach her. She's heard me, and turns around, smiling and frowning at the same time. "Hi," I say, out of breath, and trying very hard not to sound too much the fool. Touchy, since I have no real clue what to say next. "Hi?" she says. Nice voice. Lower than I would have guessed. "My name's Kurt. Sorry to catch you like this, but I've been seeing you around for a bit now, and figured I'd introduce myself before you start thinking I'm nuts or something." She's still smiling, a good sign. "Hi Kurt, I'm Sam... Samantha. Yeah, I've seen you around too. Your routine seems... intense." "Oh, you know, gotta keep the old body up and running. And your routine is nothing to sneer at. You must have some of the most toned legs in this gym." She blushes at that. Nice. Especially since my drivel, which would be ridiculed by the Neil Strausses of the world, is probably going to lead me nowhere very fast. Fuck, I must really like this girl. I'm usually not so shitty at this. "Thanks, so... you don't look like a student here. You a prof, or --" "No, no, I'm actually in finance. Got an office down the road. This gym's just the most convenient for me, plus it's pretty nice. What about you, student?" She nods. "Senior in law school. Not as fancy as finance, I know." "You kiddin' me? Finance is some of the most boring stuff around." And I'm not even exaggerating, sadly. "But it pays the bills, and I get to travel. And it does have its good moments. What kind of lawyer are you setting out to be?" "I don't know about being a lawyer yet. I'm thinking about going into copyright law, the whole digital rights debate. It's been on my mind ever since the whole thing with the student sued by the music industry last fall." Yes, a year ago, a student around here was sued by the RIAA for file sharing. That caused quite a stir, and the debates around campus were so vociferous that even I had heard about them. That was the opening I was waiting for. "Digital rights - you know, I have clients that are looking to invest in digital media, but they are skittish for... well, for several reasons. And I admit that I don't know much about what's going on in that area. Perhaps I could pick your brain about it one of these days? Call it a working lunch." "I don't know." she hesitates. "Very low key, nothing fancy, just a quiet lunch and many questions. We can even talk about a consultancy fee. How about lunch tomorrow, at the Panera around the corner?" Near the university, and as unassuming a place to have lunch that I could think of. She makes a decision, on the spot, and I can tell that it's not good for me. "Look, you're nice, and who knows, this digital rights thing of yours might even be true, but I have a boyfriend, and he might take me going to lunch with an admittedly cute finance guy the wrong way. So I'm going to pass on the invite, and I hope you won't be too mad." Damn. Well, it was a stretch anyways. "Okay, I understand. No foul. Look, if you do decide to look into investments for digital media, please do get in touch. Bauer Consulting, just google it." She nods and smiles, and my heart skips a beat. Fuck, she's beautiful. "Well, I'll see you around." She heads down the row of StairMasters towards the stairs to the locker rooms. In the next four seconds, an amazing amount of processing goes on between my ears. My eyes shift down to Sam's ass, the way her shorts hug it tight, the way her legs just emerge from those shorts, tanned, strong, long legs with a skin promising silky softness. A voice in the back of my head points out that she has a boyfriend -- something I can use -- and another more insistent voice points out that she has the most delightful body I have seen in a long while, and she cannot be more than twenty years old, and do I remember how fantastic twenty-year old girls can be? "Hey, Sam!" She stops to look at me. I catch her eye, holding her gaze without faltering until I feel a familiar tension build up behind my eyes that eventually spreads to my whole body. I tremble slightly, and then something just snaps and a warm wave floods through me. Like an orgasm, I think, not for the first time. Sam blinks a few times, then looks at me as though she is seeing me for the first time. Her face splits into a smile, and almost run towards me, arms extended. "Luke, what are you doing here? I thought you hated the gym." Go with the flow, Kurt, you know the drill by now. She thinks you're Luke, presumably her boyfriend. "Well, figured I'd give it another shot, considering how much you like it." "That's so sweet!" "Plus I get to look at you in this outfit. You're breathtaking, babe." Sam blushes. "Thanks. It's too bad I'm just finished my routine. I can stick around while you finish, then we can hang out. I've got nothing till one. We should be able to snatch a table at the student center." Time to start taking chances, old boy. I step closer to Sam, and ever so slowly trail my fingers up her arm. She shivers at the touch, but does not pull away. "Hanging out at the student center is not quite what I had in mind." I lean in closer, whispering in her ear. "Unless they've got beds in there that I don't know about." Sam blushes further and tries to say something, but all that comes out is an incoherent stammer. I take advantage of her confusion to give her a quick kiss by the ear, lingering a second, feeling the soft skin, still salty from her workout. I can feel her shiver, although we are hardly touching. "Luke, not here... People can see." Ah, so either Luke is a secret fling, or my blonde angel is uncomfortable with PDA. I suspect the latter, but the approach is the same in both cases. I spy a column, out of the way to our right. "Come here." I reach to the column, pulling Sam by the hand. She follows after a surreptitious look around. No one is paying attention to us, aside from the odd male casting a lingering look in Sam's direction, probably not even registering me. I circle around the column into a small recess by the wall, where we are effectively cut off from view. Sam's back is against the wall, and she looks at me with big blue eyes waiting for my next move, suddenly and I think uncharacteristically passive, although the slight quivering of her lips tells me all I really need to know. My ability at work, bless it. Sam closes her eyes as I lean over to kiss her; her lips are soft, warm, hungry. It does not take long for her tongue to seek mine, for her hand to reach behind my neck and pull me closer, for her body as a whole to press against mine, skin to skin, thigh to thigh, crotch to crotch. Any passiveness on her part is now gone, as I feel her hands roam my back, go down to grab my ass, come back up my chest. She moans in my mouth. I can't believe the contrast between her skin, warm, smooth, soft to the touch, and her body, tight, hard, strong. My own hands waste no time to find her ass, a reflection of her own gestures. I feel her weight shift through the thin gym shorts, and my right hand sneaks down to caress the back of her thigh. She obliges by lifting her leg off the floor. As we get drawn deeper into the kiss, hidden away in our corner, Sam gets hotter and hotter; her hands are more active, the leg I am holding up is rubbing against my side, she is pushing against me, moving her hips, thrusting her groin with the music, seeking contact, moaning. She pulls out of the kiss, abruptly, then traps my head in her hands, looking at me. She's shaking. "I want you." Perfect, I think. I just smile, and Sam stops me before I can say anything. "I know I said I wasn't ready yet, that I still wanted to wait, that I was still afraid, but no more. God, I'm so horny right now, I could jump you right here and now." Wait, what? Not ready, waiting? Good Lord, are you trying to tell me that I've run into the only virgin left on this campus? That makes me pause. Virgins are no favorite of mine; they are a lot of work. Those religions promising to send you off to Valhalla and its buffet of virgins? Not for this boy. Sam must have felt me pull back. "I know this comes as a surprise, but I kindda hoped you'd be happy." She's looking at me with large hopeful eyes. Their blue is a pale one, and contrasts with her golden skin. I have no idea how such a combination of tones could come to be, but there it is, shining off a beautiful girl half-standing half-leaning against me, warm, loving, and ready to fuck. She does not feel like a virgin. I can't explain it, just some sense you pick up over the years. I have been with many in the past, when I was honing my skill, and they all share certain traits, certain ways of acting and reacting to things sexual, a mix of desire and apprehension, tinged with trepidation or eerie calm, and Sam has none of these. That alone peaks my curiosity. Well, that, and Sam's hand that has just disappeared between our intertwined bodies and started to massage my cock through my shorts. Sam has a naughty smile on her face, a kitten happy to have found a toy to play with. Reluctantly, I grab her hand to keep her from causing a mess I might have a hard time explaining. This is neither the place nor the time. "Sam, Sam, please, okay, okay, you win!" Her look is all surprised innocence. "Listen, not here, not now. Don't you want our first time to be special?" Her pout is adorable, but she nods. "Then, tonight, how about I stop at your place, and we can do this right?" She frowns while she thinks, and soon breaks into a smile. "Ronnie is off to a play tonight, we should have the apartment to ourselves." I kiss her neck, eliciting a moan. "Wonderful. Eight o'clock, then? I'll call you before I show up, to make sure everything is okay. My cell phone's shot though. Can you remind me of your phone number?" Touchy. As her boyfriend, I should know how to contact her. The cell phone trick has always been useful to get around that problem. Who under thirty remembers phone numbers anymore? Thankfully, when I use my ability, girls tend to not be as suspicious as they might otherwise be, a useful side-effect. Sam obligingly gives me her phone number. A few more kisses, caresses, and moans before we finally break apart and get on with our day. She has just started to resume her walk to the locker room when I call her name once more and stop her. I get closer, and whisper in her ear. "Tonight, would you do me a favor? Dress sexy? For me?" A naughty smile is her only answer. I watch her go, eyes fixated to her ass, until she disappears through the door of the women's locker room. * * * The rest of my day goes on as usual: meetings, lunch with a client, conference calls. I try to schedule my affairs so that I only need to be in the office a few days a week. The rest, I can do comfortably from home. I can't help but have part of my mind returning to Sam, looking forward to our date later this evening. I wonder how she's spending the day. I wonder if she's spent some time with her Luke (which I naturally picture in my head as a Mark Hamill look-alike, a somewhat disturbing visual) and whether she's mentioned tonight's date. If so, then poor Luke must be a very confused boy right now. Perhaps I should have asked her not to say anything, to treat it as a game. The nagging worry that Skywalker might show up at our little rendezvous tonight increases over the course of the afternoon. I wish there was a way I could ensure that he won't show up, but I don't know anything but his first name. Damn. And calling Sam about it would make matters worse. At seven, after a spot of dinner, I call Sam. This is the decisive juncture. My ability is organic, fluctuating, affecting different people in different and unpredictable ways. I've gotten used to it since the ability first manifested itself when I was a teenager, and I have learned what pretty consistently works. But here I am kicking things into less predictable territory. I'm nervous. The effect of my ability reliably lasts a couple of hours, and the likelihood of it fading increases with every passing hour after that. The longest I have ever seen it last is twelve hours. Of course, I can always prolong the effect by using my ability again, but that option is not available to me right now, as I haven't seen Sam since the gym this morning, almost ten hours ago, and I have no idea where she lives. A rookie mistake. I can only hope that when she picks up the phone, she is still under my influence. Sam picks up after the third ring. I allow myself a sigh of relief when she recognizes my voice as Luke's, and points out in answer to a comment about having missed her all day that we could see each other now. I conclude she must not have seen her boyfriend today. One less problem to deal with. She gives me her address when I ask and tells me in rather colorful terms how much she is looking forward to holding me in an hour and "take her like the little girlfriend in heat she is." I like that plan. Forty-five minutes later, freshly showered and casually dressed, I knock on the door of her apartment. The building is nice, clean, and unexpectedly quiet for being on the outskirts of the student ghetto. We're probably in grad students land. Good, last thing I want right now is the pounding of the bass from some undergrad frat party. Or the police. The police still makes me nervous, even though I haven't had to deal with them in years. Sam's voice comes out muted from inside the apartment, telling me to come in, the door is unlocked. The apartment is dark, with a few flickers of candlelight about, casting a warm eerie glow. Sam's voice again, this time from down the hall: "Make yourself comfortable, baby, I'll be right there." I take off my jacket, sit on the couch, and assess the surroundings. Typical student digs, perhaps with a touch more style than usual. Someone with taste and an eye for decoration has set this room up. I can't judge the colors in the candlelight, but I bet they match. The living room is spacious, and I like the thick carpet underfoot. Kitchen in one direction, and in the other a hallway that I presume leads down to the bedrooms. There's a bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table. I pour the wine, smell it. Merlot, the default choice for many people. Not my favorite, but I appreciate the effort. I take a sip, focusing on the sting of the red wine on my tongue, trying hard to avoid thinking about what's coming. Part of the fun, I realized a long time ago, lies in not knowing what was going to happen. Anticipation can be intoxicating. "Hi, baby." Sam's voice. I was lost in thought, and didn't hear her come in. She's standing at the hallway entrance to the living room. She's not moving, and that's just as well because it gives me sufficient time to drink her in, like the tallest glass of water after a scorching walk in the desert. She is not wearing much, and what she is wearing plays with the light from the candles in magical ways. A short negligee is my best guess, something satiny, held up by two thin straps over her shoulders, and reaching down to the top of her thighs. She is not wearing anything else I can see. Her legs are exposed in all their glory, long and smooth and delectable. It's funny, she probably showed as much skin this morning at the gym, but the way the negligee is molded on her body is positively obscene. I can easily make out the outline of her breasts, and the mind fills in the blank of her waist, following her hips down to her thighs and the treasure that lies between them. She looks at me look at her. "I hope you like. I did not have much time today to find something suitable." "You look wonderful." "Thank you. Is that glass for me?" She pulls off the nonchalance much better than I right now. I hand her the wine-filled glass as she strolls across the room. "Her majesty's glass." My eyes are glued to her legs as she gets closer, walking silently over the carpeted floor. The quietness and fluidity of her stride is nearly feline. Sam reaches for the glass. "Thank you, kind sir." She sips, maintaining eye contact. My eyes have made it back to her face. She is smiling. She puts her glass down, heads to the shelves by the wall, and after fiddling with the sound system some soft nondescript mood music comes out of hidden speakers. I recognize the melody, it's been playing on the radio lately, but for the life of me cannot put a name to the singer. Not that that's anything new. I stopped paying attention to commercial music after Freddie Mercury died. But hey, tonight, if Sam's happy, I'm happy. And she seems happy. The song has a slow but snappy beat, and Sam's getting into it. She still has her back to me, leaning against the shelves. I drink my wine, just looking at her. The view is beautiful. The negligee is cut low in the back, and I can see her backside move through the thin material. Sam's swaying her hips in time with the music, matching the rhythm. It is altogether hypnotic. Sam pushes herself off the shelves, and starts dancing, a slow, sensual swinging to the music, arms raised, eyes closed. She moves like a dancer, and I idly wonder whether she takes classes. I'll have to ask her later. Sam's hands are roaming as she dances, traveling down her perfect runner's body, following the contour of her hips, skimming over her thighs. Playfully, she lifts one side of her negligee, revealing her upper leg straight up to her hip, and I don't see any indication that she is wearing anything under the silk. She gestures me to come up and join her. I smile, shake my head, and hold my ground. I hate dancing. Unfazed, she bumps and grinds her way to me across the living room, before holding out her hand to me, a wicked smile on her lips. I stare at the offered hand for a beat or two before sighing and joining her. She puts her arms around my neck, hands loosely together behind me, and sways slowly, a foot away from me, eyes closed. She smells fresh and clean and delicious. My hands are on her hips. The negligee definitely is silk, and thin silk at that. It intensifies the feel of her skin. I will my hands to move up from her hips to below her shoulders and then up her arms, which she obligingly lifts. I get closer as my hands reach hers high above her head, thrown back with eyes open and staring at me and lips parted. I lean over and kiss her lips. She melts into me, as she did in the gym earlier, except now it's only us in the darkened candlelit apartment,and the night is still young. The kiss is scorching. Sam's body rubs against mine, and I feel all its details, her breasts against my chest, her stomach against mine, her groin pushing into my erection, her leg trapped between my legs. If this is how she feels when I'm still dressed, I worry about my reaction when I'll be naked against her. Sam interrupts those idle reflections by pushing me back down on the couch before straddling me and resuming our kiss. Her hands are on my face, and her hips are dancing wildly on my lap. She's losing control, I can tell. She's getting off, rubbing herself against me, against my cock through my jeans. I feel warmth and wetness seeping through, and am tempted to let go and lose control as well. My hands are on her thighs feeling the intricate muscle work under a skin as silky as her negligee. With careful movements, I tug on her shoulder straps, and the garment, with a little help, drops down to reveal two perfect breasts that seem to rise up to meet me. She must have been wearing the most excruciating of sports bra this morning, because her breasts are not at all what I was led to believe. I dive in, and grab a nipple between my lips, hands reaching up to squeeze her other breast. Sam's breath catches, then she moans, pushing her chest out to give me greater access. I kiss and nibble and suck the offered globe like a starved man. She tastes like wild berries. I lean Sam back, straining her legs, and she has to hold on to me not to slide down to the floor. We make out in that fashion on the couch for the better part of the following fifteen minutes. By that point her negligee is but a piece of fabric bunched around her waist. Sam has managed to take off my shirt, and took a few minutes away from kissing and caressing my chest to unzip my pants and massage my straining cock. "I want you, bad. Now," she says, when we pause after a particularly heated kiss. She's back on my lap, rubbing her crotch against mine. I can feel her pussy leaking juice even through the material of my briefs. She takes a deep breath, seems to come to a decision, then leans over to whisper in my ear. "I want to feel your cock inside, stretching me out." She's trying on the words out loud. Nice. I should be encouraging. I whispering back to her. "Funny, my cock also wants to be inside, stretching your little pussy out, whereas I want to make you scream." I pull back, look her in the eyes, smile. "I think we can come to some sort of arrangement here." She smiles back, an endearing mix of embarrassment and arousal etched on her face. I kiss her again. "Where do you --" I start, but she doesn't let me finish. She stands up and shimmies out of her negligee. It was not hiding anything , of course, bunched up as it was around her waist, but somehow seeing Sam completely naked without a stitch of clothing breaking her lines gets to me. She is beautiful. I mentioned the tight runner's legs, long and smooth, right? And the flat stomach, and the gently curved hips? And the breasts, sitting perfectly proportioned high on her chest? Her shoulders, the shoulders of a model on which a designer would fantasize about hanging his latest fashion? She is simply breathtaking. Sam kneels in front of me, reaches for my pants and briefs and pulls them off. My cock springs up to say hello. She strokes it softly. I close my eyes, taking in the sensations; they never get old. I probably let out a moan too, I'm not wholly sure. She stops, and before I can jerk myself out of my reverie I feel first her hot breath on my cock, then her lips gently wrapping themselves around the head. She sucks me in, slowly, then out again. I open my eyes. Like a blonde curtain, her hair hides her face from me. She bobs her head up and down on my cock, slower than I usually like, but the rhythm feels right tonight, and her mouth is fantastic. I tell her so, can feel her smile. Without warning, she lets me go and stands back up. "Hey, no! Please, don't stop!" I complain. She laughs, as she straddles my lap once more, grabbing my cock and aiming it at the wet slit between her legs. "Well, if you're a good boy, I'll get back to it later. But now, I have other things on my mind. I want that big cock in me." The head of my cock touches her pussy lips, and it takes a fair amount of self-control not to come right then and there. After the briefest pause, Sam sinks onto my rod, and down she goes swallowing me almost to the hilt, in one long swoop. She leans on me, and I can feel more than hear her moan against my shoulder. "Fuck, this feels good, so full." I wholeheartedly agree. Her pussy is like a tight warm glove around my cock, squeezing it with every spasm that runs through Sam. Her pussy is tighter than most I have recently sampled, not surprising if she's a virgin. And I have to say that things went off much better than I had feared; deflowering is much more awkward in real life than on those fantasy stories one finds on the internet. There's pain, parts that don't fit right, sometimes a reinforced hymen. None of that tonight. Sam is on my lap, having managed to take in my full length, and she is contently sighing as she moves her hips to and fro. She seems to enjoy the motion, if her regular "Mmmm... so good... feels so good..." are anything to go by. I take advantage of the soothing rhythm to run my hands over her body and nibble on her breasts, deliciously available at mouth level. Sam straightens up, and almost completely pulls me out, remaining with only the tip of my cock nestled between her folds. She looks at me with a wicked smile. "I wanna fuck you." Sure, knock yourself out. "I wanna fuck you hard." From virgin to liking it rough in ten minutes. I didn't know I was this good. The thought perishes as she slams down on my cock. On the spot, I'm not sure whether to feel pain or pleasure. For Sam, it's definitely pleasure. Her mouth hangs open but no sound comes out, only an abrupt exhaling as if she's not expecting what she's feeling. After a few seconds, she goes through it again: she pulls herself off me, leaving only the tip of my cock inside her, and then slams herself down. She settles into a grueling rhythm, repeatedly slamming herself down on my cock, and I fear that her stamina is no match for mine. She mutterings under her breath, and it gets louder as she gets closer to orgasm. I strain to hear, happy for the distraction -- her pumping up and down is about to make me burst, and this is too much fun to waste. Damn, I think, suddenly, protection! I don't see parenting in my near future activities. "Fuck... fuck... fuck..." is her litany, keeping tempo with her humping. "Fuck... big cock... want big cock... down in my dirty little pussy... so full... fill me... take me... ravage me... fuck... deeper... fuck..." All sotto voce, almost mumbled. A closet dirty talker, then. I need her to come before I let go. Stupid machismo. If she is indeed into dirty talk, then... I lean towards her and whisper loud enough so she can hear despite the squeaky couch. "Come for me, my little sex angel. I want to feel you come all around my cock. Squeeze that tight cunt of yours right around my stiff cock." She shivers upon hearing my words, her breath shortens, her motion on my lap become jerkier, like an engine misfiring. She slams herself down on top of me a few more times, hard. And then she comes. She's a screamer, but she tries to contain it as best as she can, jamming her face in the crook of my neck, and biting down as tremors overwhelm her body. I hold on for dear life, trying to convince myself that the blinding pain in my neck is a tribute to a job well done. Sam collapses against me, drained, a sheen of sweat on her skin, mumbling incoherently into my shoulder. Her breathing returns to normal, slowly. She feels good against me. "Come on," I say, gently rubbing her back. "Let's go somewhere more comfortable." Time to show off some of those gym moves. I just hope I don't throw out something in my back. It's a good thing Sam's not much bigger than she is. I push off the couch, standing up, lifting Sam, still hooked around my neck and with my dick embedded deep inside her. Lift with the legs, Kurt, not the back. Sam lets out a moan and mutters something indiscernible. I disengage, pulling her off my dick, and then she's lying in my arms, a much easier position for me to carry her. She cuddles up against me like a child. I head for the hallway. "Sam, bedroom?" Without looking, she gestures to the far door. The hallway is dark, but I can still see enough from the candlelight in the living room. I navigate the door frame without ramming Sam's head into it. I put her down on the bed, and she seems to come alive somewhat, because she pulls me in for a scorching kiss. Her body seeks mine, reaching up, and my cock responds. But there are things I need to do. "I'll be right back," I whisper, when I get a chance to say a word. "Hurry," she says, eyes closed, still not wholly recovered. I do. Step one, grabbing the pack of condoms from my pants in the living room. Step two, kill the candles. Visions of the apartment engulfed in flames dance in front of my eyes. I hurry back to the bedroom. Sam's come out of it. She has turned on a soft nightlight, and a bluish glow suffuses the room. She is watching me, head raised up on pillows, legs spread, a hand leisurely stroking a pussy still swollen from out foray on the couch. "You look very nice," I say, openly ogling. Sam blushes, but does not close her legs or take her hand away. I join her on the bed and flutter a light kiss on the inside of her right thigh. She shivers, and moves her legs further apart. Lying fully down, resting on my elbows, I kiss up her thigh, inducing more shivers and a few moans as a reward. Her hand gets busier over her pussy, fingers having moved to caressing her clit directly. I can smell her arousal from where I am. I have said it before, I will say it again, her skin is unbelievably soft. I assess this with my lips now instead of my fingers, which intensifies the feeling. When I reach the fold where her thigh runs into the silk surrounding her pussy, I jump to her left thigh and mirror my previous kiss trail. Sam moans in frustration at feeling me get away from where she wants to be kissed the most. Before long, though, I am back at the hearth between her thighs, breathing in her scent, strong but sweet. She is using two fingers to rub one of her pussy lips towards the top of her slit. I blow gently, and when she feels it she pushes her hips up, no doubt to seek some sort of contact. I tease her by blowing on her pussy some more, then indulge in something I've been meaning to do ever since seeing her this morning: lifting myself up, I deposit a slow heavy kiss on her stomach, flat and taut and strong. I feel the toned muscles under her skin, and follow the hollows down her sides, basking in the taste of her skin, lightly salted after the sweat of our earlier exertions. I return to her slit only to notice that her hand is nearly frantic now. If I let her be, she's capable of coming again without me. I find that completely unacceptable. Time to test out my earlier theory. "Sam," I say, up on my elbows, face above her self-abusing hand, "stop." It takes a few seconds, but Sam eventually stops. Her eyes are open and looking right at me. I have her attention. "Do me a favor, will you? Spread your pussy lips and hold them out. I want a taste." Small hesitation -- I can detect a faint blush in the glow of the nightlight. So she clearly has no qualms lying naked before me with her legs spread, wanton, but words do have an effect on her. "I want to offer yourself to me." A moan this time, and she moves her hands down to her crotch, and with two delicate fingers from each hand, she pulls apart her lips, revealing a wet, red, aroused slit ready to be entertained. I proceed to thoroughly eat her out, starting with a few tentative caresses of my tongue alongside a fleshy lip, before moving on to her engorged clit. By the time ten minutes have elapsed, I am alternating between driving my tongue deep inside her as far as it will go, and sucking on her little love nub. She has come twice already, and is well on her way to a third orgasm. It's time I get to play as well. I kneel up on the bed to Sam's cry of protest and reach for the pack of condoms. I fumble with one before managing to roll it onto my cock in one nice and smooth motion. If only it had been so easy fifteen years ago. After her initial disappointment, Sam has picked up on what I was up to. Smart girl. She's back to caressing herself, staring straight at my cock, transfixed. I like seeing that expression on her face. I am not especially long, cock-wise, but I am wide. Pleasurably girthy, if you will. I lie down on top of Sam, who reaches down between us and with a small warm hand grips a cock delighted by the attention. Sam shifts her hips forward, and pitches up for me to impale her. Except she never makes it. I move out of reach, still on top of her. Her eyes shoot open, brows furrowed, a questioning groan on her lips. I smirk, feeling naughty. "No," I say, "not yet. Before I do anything, you have to tell me what you want." Sam shoots me a look of incomprehension, and then gasps, avoiding my eyes. I love making her blush. "Go on," I continue, "If you want it inside, you'll have to tell me." She hesitates, and very softly, whispers, "I want you inside me." "Come on, Sam, you can do better than that. Louder" "I want your... dick inside." I lean over her, bring my mouth to her ear. "You want my dick, my cock deep inside you, don't you? You want me to spread you out, open you up. You want me to take you, ravish you, fuck you until you can't breathe anymore?" Sam moans. I can feel her body sway under mine. "Yesss... Inside... Wanna feel you, wanna feel you inside." I kiss the side of neck, run my tongue up to her earlobe. "Wanna feel your cock inside my little hungry pussy." Her voice started low, but gains in intensity. "Then what?" I ask. She has it in her, I know, she proved it earlier. Except she wasn't quite herself then. Now I want more. I want Samantha to speak, not lust. Sam takes a deep breath. "Then I want you to... plunge your cock deep inside me and fill me up." "And you want me to fuck you?" She turns her head back towards me, the red of the blush purplish in the blur glow. Her eyes are sparkling. "Then yes, I want you to fuck me. Is that what you want to hear, you bastard?" The smile flirting at the edges of her mouth belies the harshness of her words. "I want you to fuck me," she stabs her hips up to punctuate her statement, to get me to react, "I want you to ram your cock in me and split me open. Is that want you want to hear?" "Yes," I say. "That's exactly what I want to hear." And then I kiss her hard on the lips, and as she responds to my kiss, as her tongue starts dueling with mine, I thrust into her, and she opens up like the most joyous of flowers on a warm spring day. I inch my way into her, slowly, inexorably, until I can go no further, until I am embedded inside her as far as I can go. And then I stop. I keep on kissing her, but remain motionless on top of her, my groin flush against hers. After a few seconds, Sam moans through the kiss, and the moan becomes more insistent as time passes. I'm just enjoying myself, wholly lost in the sweetness of Sam's lips. I can feel her trying to move her hips and get some friction going, but I remain pushed against her, unyielding. She breaks the kiss and pushes off to look at me. I return her stare, slapping what I hope is a sufficient smile on face. I just look at her, really look at her, trying to express how much I am into her, how much she makes my blood boil, how much I want to hear her scream as I pound her, all without saying a word, all without moving. I don't know if she gets it, but she just stares at me, mouth barely open, eyes wide, and I can see the lust in them grow. She strains to move against me, but as strong as she is, I am still just stronger. Not to mention in a better position. "Luke," she says, finally, "please fuck me." I smile. After pulling out, I pause, before driving my cock back in, all the way, with more power than the first time. Sam closes her eyes, savoring the sensation, gasping as I bottom out. I stop again when I'm all in, enjoying the feel of her pussy grasping my cock, the sheer feel of having her around me. "Fuck me," says Sam. She's looking at me again. I pull out once more, and thrust into her. "Fuck me." I pull out, and ram back in. Her pussy is still tight. "Luke," she says, grabbing my head in her hand, "take me, just take me, before I fucking KILL YOU!" Who am I to argue with such a request? I pick up the pace, and Sam voices her appreciation. "Yes, come on, just take me, hard, you fucking bastard!" We do not last a long time at that pace. Sam urges me on with increasingly explicit descriptions and demands, and I try to maintain a good regular beat, pulling out completely before driving into her, again and again. Sam has pulled her knees up by her chest to let me in deeper, and her breathing gets shorter and shorter. She's had a few orgasms in the last few minutes, and I feel disgustingly proud. "Sam, I'm gonna come soon." "Go on, come, I want to feel you inside -- God, I wish I could feel you spurt into me -- unless..." she looks devious, "unless you want to come on me instead? Like in the pornos? Would you like to come on me? On my stomach? On my boobs? On my face? Wouldn't you like that, to see your jizz drip down my face?" I don't know about you, Luke, but I do enjoy coming on a pretty girl when she's into it. But not tonight. I want to feel the warmth of her pussy as I come. Which is exactly what happens. I stiffen as I feel my balls about to explode, and then they do and raw fire courses through my cock. Sam feels it, and pulls me close, hugging me fiercely, rubbing her legs against my sides, squeezing me with her cunt. "That's it, baby, that's it, come in me, come in me. Oooh..." she stiffens herself, and has a last orgasm, a quiet one, a final flicker on a long evening of passion. We're both spent, and we just lie down, collapsed in each other's arms. I pull out of her so that the condom does not roll off when my cock deflates, but I shouldn't have feared anything, as my cock is still hard. Still, I roll over on my back, and Sam puts her head on my chest, long hair spilled out all over me like a blonde fan. "That was wonderful, Sam, that was... wow." "It was," she says. "Thank you." "Oh, hey, you know, I didn't do much." She raises herself up on an elbow, hooks her hair behind an ear, and the gesture makes her look younger than she is. She's looking at me. "You've been incredibly patient. I know it wasn't easy to wait so long before... you know..." "Before fucking like bunnies? Don't be shy, you've said much more interesting things earlier." She blushes. That girl is going to burn up from the inside one day. "Yes, I have, haven't I? I guess talking dirty turns me on more than I'd like to admit. Anyways! Your patience. Thank you." "No problem." Ain't that the truth. I feel like Cyrano's Christian, plucking the ripe kiss from a Roxanne seduced by someone else. Not enough to feel guilty about it, mind you. "And actually, for a first time, it went very well. I've heard horror stories about losing one's virginity, so I was a bit worried." "I wasn't a virgin." "Huh? Then... what... why?" She sighs. "It's a long story, and not especially interesting. To keep it short, it involved an uncle, some clueless parents, a scared little girl, and a lot of pain. It was only one time, one Christmas, a long time ago, but that was enough. I've been scared of intercourse ever since." "Sam, my God, I'm sorry... had I known..." "Had you known, you probably would not have done what you did tonight. I don't know why, I don't know how, but being with you tonight, I felt none of the fear that was plaguing me in the past. Just overwhelming lust, like nothing could get in the way. I don't know how you did it, but it was like plunging through a thick fog and finally getting to the other side back in the warm sunshine." I could guess what had happened. My ability, which tends to arouse deep lust fed by powerful fantasies, must have overwhelmed her fear-induced block. Amazing. The thought of launching into a prosperous sexual-hangup therapist career crosses my mind, before being dismissed as a stupendously bad idea. "I don't know what I did either," I say, "but I'm glad I did it." She grins. "Of course, now we have some catching up to do. Shall we go again?" She reaches down to grasp my cock, and I gasp. "Wait... hold on. Still sensitive. Gimme a sec. I'll be right back." I get off the bed, and head for the bathroom down in the hall. "Hurry back, there's something I want to try." I can hear the wickedness in her voice. Great, I created a monster, I think, not sorry for a second. I take a quick leak in the frighteningly pink and fluffy bathroom, and then my life becomes real complicated real fast. It starts with a key jiggling in the lock of the apartment door, and a deep-seated survival instinct makes me shut the light off in the bathroom and close the door but for a little sliver that leaves me enough of an opening to look out in the hallway. If I'm lucky, it's the roommate home early from a failed date. I can deal with someone of the female persuasion. "Sam, baby, you here?" A man's voice. Baby. Fuck. Must be Luke. Or not. Either way, bad news. My ability doesn't work so well with men. And here I am, trapped in the bathroom, naked but for a spent condom threatening to fall off my now limp dick. "In the bedroom, silly. I'm still waiting for you," shouts Sam. "What do you mean, waiting?" I hear footsteps coming down the hall. A tall lanky boy, short blond hair, long leather jacket passes in front of the door I'm hiding behind. Hello Luke, pleased to meet you. Your girlfriend's a delicious lover. "What the...? Sam? What... Fuck... Wow!" Okay, so Luke is no English major. Then again, I can't claim I wouldn't react similarly if my girlfriend was waiting for me naked in bed, looking like Sam did. "Hope you don't mind," I hear Sam from the bedroom, "but I've always wondered what it'd feel like to be taken from behind. It is so... nasty. Slutty. Can I be your slut tonight, Luke? Do you want to fuck your little slut from behind? I sweat I'll make it good for you. Please?" I'm sure you will, Sam, I'm sure you will. The visual of Sam on her hands and knees on the bed, tight little ass up in the air, perhaps swaying gently, waiting to be grabbed and penetrated gets my cock hard again. Great timing, pal. I never hear Luke's reply, and there may never have been one. All I hear is sounds of someone disrobing, and I take it that he is doing the smart thing of shutting up and fucking the hot number on the bed. Fucking lucky bastard. And indeed, I eventually hear Sam's sharp intake of breath and heartfelt "Fuck yeah, push that cock in me, fuck yeah, fuck me!" followed by the unmistakable sounds of flesh hitting flesh. Off they go. I wait perhaps five minutes, then chance a look out the door towards the bedroom. Luke has his back to me, standing at the foot of the bed, and is hammering into Sam, who's indeed on all four on the bed, head down into a pillow, giving a running commentary of the thorough fucking she is receiving. They are distracted enough that they never notice me sneak out of the bathroom. Trying to be as quiet as possible, although given the racket that those kids are making, I probably shouldn't have worried, I quickly get dressed in the living room, and negotiate the apartment door without bumping into a fragile vase or something. The last thing I hear before I close the door and head back home is Sam's first doggy-style orgasm. The thought that it is the first of many makes me smile. You're welcome, Sam. Good luck to you.

Twelve Days a Slave 11 of 13 by The Technician non-consensual, slavery, painslut, public spanking, public nudity, public humiliation, public punishment = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = There is no way slave missy can win this lottery. This is the story of a young woman's conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The thirteenth and fourteenth amendments to the constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the constitution allows penal slavery. After the woman is convicted, a "sentence negotiator" gets her sentence reduced to a public day of repentance followed by eleven days of public punishment. Following that, she is to serve one year of penal servitude. This story deals with non-consensual punishment, pain, and involuntary slavery. If such topics offend you or upset you, I would advise skipping this particular book. There are thirteen chapters to this story. The chapters can be read on their own, but the story is much better understood if the previous portions have been read. The complete story is full book length. I debated publishing it with some of my other books at Fiction4all, but decided that I would rather serialize it and post it here. A description of the thirteen chapters follows the end of each chapter. The ninth day of punishment is a lottery. The public is given the chance to paddle the repentant terrorist. Eight lucky winners each get to give her five swats with a special paddle. One lucky winner gets to finish the forty-six required for her punishment by laying six swats of the paddle across missy's ass. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician} The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Chapter Eleven - On the ninth day of punishment, a lottery gives the public a chance to paddle the repentant terrorist. Missy awoke early. She wasn't sure why. It was still dark and there was no smell of coffee or bacon, but the slight rocking of the RV told her that William was up front. She padded out to see what was going on. William was sitting at the kitchen table working on his computer. "What are you doing?" she asked. William grimaced at her and said, "Grading homework." "What?" she replied. There are twenty-five winners to our lottery. Each has submitted a short essay to the webpage saying why they should be the one to deliver the final six spanks with the wooden paddle. "Oh," missy said. "That's what the lottery was all about." "Yes," said William. "One winning ticket equals five swats with the paddle. Except the first place winner, he or she gets the last six swats. Missy's eyes went wide, "Twenty-five!" she blurted out. "That means over a hundred swats! One hundred twenty-five swats will turn my ass into hamburger!" "Whoa, whoa, missy," he quickly replied. "That includes the undercard. You will receive the standard forty-six. But before the main event that's you there are three slaves who will be punished with twenty swats each, and two volunteers. One is a man from the stage crew who wants to use this occasion to come out as a painslut. The other is a painslut wife who has this fantasy of her husband spanking her to orgasm in front of a large crowd. She's been here every day imagining herself up on stage. She really shouldn't count in the number of winners because it will be her husband swinging the paddle. "It's still forty-six swats with a wooden paddle," she pouted. "I got ten with the wood yesterday and they hurt like hell. How am I going to stand forty-six?" "You will," William said as he stroked her face. "I have a few surprises of my own for today. I can't promise that it won't hurt, but it won't hurt near as much as it did yesterday." Missy looked up at him with wide, questioning eyes, and he said softly, "You are just going to have to trust me on this." He held her chin in his hand and said, "Have I not protected you as much as possible up to this point?" She nodded her head. "Go do your morning routine," he said. "I'll have breakfast waiting for you by the time you get back." Since it was early, they had time for a very leisurely breakfast. William even cut his eggs in half before shoveling them into his mouth. They were still running early when they made their morning parade lap through the town so William circled the square four times to kill time before heading back to the fairgrounds. As the crew was attaching the cable to the top of her cage, William said, "Don't worry about what is going to happen today. Think about something else to take your mind off it while you are hanging around waiting." "I will," she answered as her cage began to rise into the air. Once the cage was clear of the stage, the crew began assembling the equipment needed for the day. Missy watched as they put together five wooden punishment benches. They were the standard padded bench with a kneeler so that the person receiving the punishment could be strapped down on their knees with their body bent over the main portion of the bench. The height of the bench was adjustable so that the person's shoulders ended up lower than their hips, forcing their ass up into the air. On the side of each bench, a highly-polished wooden paddle, about three inches wide and an inch thick, hung by a leather strap from a wooden peg. The paddle looked very familiar to missy. She rubbed her ass as she remembered the ten swats she had received at the end of her fourth wrestling match the day before. After all five stations were set up, the crew rolled a cart out onto the stage with the parts for another bench. Missy knew that this bench would be different. For one thing, the pieces were much larger. For another, the wood was all painted a very dark black. The finish, whatever it was, was so shiny that every surface looked almost like a black mirror. After the wood was in place, the crew attached black, soft leather pads to the kneeler and main bench. They also bolted in place matching black restraints for her ankles and wrists and a very wide black belt which would go over her back to hold her perfectly in place. "It's like watching someone build your gallows," she said silently to herself. She did not remain quiet, however, when they brought out the paddle. Her loud gasp could be heard up to the top row of the grandstands. Missy had reason to gasp. Unlike the five paddles in front of the stage, the paddle intended for her had a very shiny black finish. It was also much larger, almost six inches across and two inches thick. A small cable of some sort came out of the end of the handle and snaked its way off stage to where the recording engineer sat at his console. She cringed as she thought of that massive hunk of wood slamming into her ass. "Think of something else. Think of something else. Think of something else." she kept telling herself. But all she could think of was that huge black paddle smacking against her ass flesh. "I guess you could call this escape sex," she said to herself as she braced herself against the back of the cage. Her eyes closed as her fingers began stroking her breasts. She moaned slightly as one hand moved down between her legs. Today she wasn't seeking a plateau of pleasure. She was seeking an orgasm of escape. "There is a certain freedom in slavery," she thought to herself as her hands took her higher. "I don't have to worry about what people think of me for masturbating in public. They already think of me as a slave. I'm not really a person in their eyes. Normal rules and morality don't apply to me anymore. As long as I don't disobey my Master, I can do just about anything in public." In fact, it helped with her arousal to think of the fact that the stagecrew and anyone in the audience who had arrived early were watching her as she began to writhe in pre-orgasmic ecstacy. Anyone who had not noticed what she was doing was made aware by the loud "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" which echoed through the arena with her first orgasm. She didn't stop there, however, and continued pumping with her hand until she had climaxed twice more. Her sweat made her body glisten even more as she panted and gasped in post-orgasmic recovery. "That took my mind off things for a while," she said aloud as she relaxed back against the bars. "Now all I have to do is to keep the fire glowing." For the remaining time she continued to stroke herself very slowly while keeping her eyes closed to shut out the frightful sight of the waiting black, shiny punishment bench and its matching huge black paddle. At two o'clock, William's voice broke through the wall her mind had erected to keep out reality. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "today we reveal the winners to our lottery." He paused for dramatic effect, and continued, "Today, eight of our lucky winners will get to deliver five swats of punishment directly to the repentant terrorist's ass." He paused once again, this time to wait out the extended cheers and applause. "That only adds up to forty," he said dramatically. "Our winner with the best reason for delivering punishment to our little terrorist's ass will be given the privilege of finishing her off with the final six strokes." He again had to wait out the raucous crowd. "In addition," he continued, holding up his hands for silence. "In addition, twelve third-place winners will be given the task of helping to punish three very deserving, disobedient slaves. Three more second-place winners will get the pleasure of helping a young man out himself as a painslut. And one very fortunate husband will get to fulfill his wife's ultimate fantasy." The crowd again began applauding wildly as three slaves were led to the first three benches on the track in front of the stage. Two of the slaves were female, one was male. All three were totally hairless. Their bodies were well-greased so that the lights reflected off of them as they were led into place by large security officers. "Those chains are a bit of overkill," missy thought to herself. "They are way larger than they have to be. And that collar would hold back an elephant. Doesn't anyone realize how fakey those look?" She raised her arm to point down at the slaves as she spoke. As she did so, her own chains rattled and caught her attention. "God!" she exclaimed as she suddenly realized, "Their chains are smaller than mine!" She smiled and said aloud, "But the crowd is eating it up. William, you are a master showman." Six more very muscular security people walked out to place the three slaves into their restraints. Two female officers removed the chains and collar from the male slave and dragged him kicking and screaming to the second bench. He continued to struggle as they pushed him to his knees and strapped his ankles in place. They then pushed his knees slightly more apart and pulled the leather straps across the back of his shins. They next pushed his body over the main part of the bench and pulled the wide leather strap across his back. He began wildly flailing his arms, but with his legs and body already held tightly in place, there was little he could do to prevent the two women from pulling his hands down to the front restraint bar and strapping them in place. One of the security women then turned a small metal wheel beneath the high portion of the bench, raising it another two or three inches into the air. The result was that his body was pulled even tighter and his ass was tilted further up into the air. His balls could be seen hanging down beneath his ass, but fear had evidently caused so much shrinkage that his prick was nowhere to be seen. The two women, as well as the security man who had led the slave out, then walked away and circled around behind the stage. The remaining two pairs of security men synchronized their actions as they put the two female slaves into the first and third benches. "They had to have practiced that," missy thought as she watched from above. "The chains hit the ground at the same time. Every restraint was closed exactly together. They even twisted the adjustment wheels exactly the same amount... and the two girls are different heights." Missy began to wonder how much of the first slave's attempts to resist were also rehearsed. She even wondered if these slaves were truly being punished or had been hired for the event with some promise of special treatment or time off. "Nothing in my world is ever what it seems to be," she said softly to herself. "Or has it always been that way and now that I am just a slave I can see things the way they truly are?" "Let's bring out our first three winners," William said grandly from the stage as three men walked out from behind the stage. Each one stood behind one of the three slaves. "Remember," William instructed, "five swats and then you put the paddle back on the hook." He waited for the three to pick up their paddles and get into position before saying, "Begin." The three wielding the paddles had obviously not rehearsed. It also looked like they had little, if any, previous experience swinging the paddles. The one striking the male slave was barely hitting him. Perhaps he hadn't thought about the fact that he might be spanking a male's ass rather than a female's and it bothered him. In any case, he just didn't put his weight into the swing. One of the other men seemed to be swinging about right, and the third was swinging way too hard. All three slaves were responding slightly differently to the swats. The first girl screamed loudly with each swat; the male made loud grunting noises; the third girl, who was being slammed the hardest, responded to each hit with a loud "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh." As the winners were setting the paddles back in place, William's voice once again came over the speakers. "The rest of our participants waiting back stage might want to listen carefully to this," he began. "I guess we should have done some instruction and practice in the art of swinging a wooden paddle." The crowd laughed quietly in response. A stagehand hustled across the stage and handed him a paddle the same size and shape as those on the spanking benches. "First off," he said, "you need to hold the paddle relaxed in your hand so that the force of the blow doesn't transfer to your arm." He swung the paddle at an imaginary target. "But at the same time, you need to hold it firmly enough to transfer the force of the swing to the recipient's ass." He laughed as he held the paddle before him. "And how do you know where that sweet spot is?" he asked. "Use your ears. Listen to the smack. You want just enough to make it pop." He held the paddle up and swung it through the air, "You might think that swinging it harder would make it hurt even worse, but that isn't always true. With a solid paddle like this, if you hit too hard, you trap air between the surface of the paddle and the person's flesh. That lessens the transfer of force to the ass that's why some paddles have holes in them." He swung the paddle once more, "And even if that doesn't happen and you actually transfer the full effect of a really hard swing, you will more than likely overload the nerves in the ass. You might do a lot of damage, but you won't cause near the amount of pain that a lesser hit would cause. Remember you are trying to hurt, not harm, the slave. You want a chastised slave, not a damaged slave." Three more winners walked out from behind the stage. This time two of them were women, one was not much more than a teenager while the other appeared to be at least fifty years old. The male was somewhere in between. When they picked up the paddles, the grandmother looking lady turned to the crowd and said, "I taught high school for thirty-five years before I retired and every day I dreamed of doing this to some of my disruptive students. This is for all you active teachers out there who have that same dream." The crowd roared with laughter and applause. "OK, OK," William said from the stage. "Remember five strokes, then put the paddles back." The youngest woman was in the first position. She seemed to know how to swing a paddle and the female slave yelped very loudly with each strike. Her "Aieee" became louder, longer, and higher-pitched with each strike. The granny was swatting the male slave. She also seemed to know her way around a paddle and applied each swat very deliberately. Her smile grew wider and wider with each stroke. By the third strike, the male slave's grunts had become actual cries of pain. The man in the third position looked much more amateurish in his delivery, but the loud "Smack!" of the paddle proclaimed that he was still able to strike very efficiently. The crowd could see that the young female slave's ass was growing very, very red under the assault. Some, sitting in the right place in the stands or directly behind the slave in the ground seats, could also see that moisture was collecting between the slave's legs. Her cries of "Oh, oh, oh, OH, OH!" also hinted at the fact that she was most likely a painslut who was sexually excited by the spanking." After all three had finished their five swats, they replaced the paddles and returned to behind the stage. As they walked back three more winners two men and one woman were walking out to take their place. The woman who was first to walk out, stopped behind the male slave. The two men then took their places behind the female slaves. This time, there was no instruction from William. The three just picked up the paddles and began swatting. The woman had perfect form with the paddle. On each strike, the male cried out loudly, "Aahhh. Aahhh. Aahhh. Aahhh. Aahhhiieeee!" She smiled as she heard him break into an almost female cry of pain. The two men, meanwhile, delivered their swats. The first female slave continued to scream in pain while the third continued her noisy journey toward a possible orgasm. When the five swats were completed, the three returned back stage and three different winners took their place. This time all three wielding the paddles were women. They did not all begin swinging together, but instead the second two waited patiently while the first finished off her slave. The first woman stood slightly to the side and swung the paddle with both hands, but she had very accurate control over her force and aim. The paddle landed squarely on both ass cheeks with a resounding "Thwack!" on every smack. The female slave twisted and thrashed in the restraints, but was unable to avoid the paddle. Her final "Aiiiieeeeeeeeee!" echoed through the stands for several moments after the paddle had been returned to its hook. The woman left, leaving the other two standing with their paddles. The second woman then began swatting the male slave. She also swung two-handed, but her aim was not quite as good and the timing of the swats way too close together. Despite this, the male slave was crying out a very high-pitched "Aiieee" by the time the paddle had bounced off his ass for the fifth time. After she left, the third woman stepped up to the panting female slave and gently rubbed the paddle across her swollen ass cheeks. The slave responded with a throaty, "Ahhhhh," as she slowly writhed in her restraints. The woman then stepped back and swung once like she was swinging a tennis racket. There was a very loud "Smack!" and the painslut slave grunted out an equally loud "Oohhaahh." A second stroke followed a moment later and the slave responded with slightly more writhing and an even louder "Oohhaahh." The third and fourth strike seemed to pump the slave's responses higher and higher. The woman with the paddle turned to face the crowd. She stood there quietly smiling and waving slightly while the slave made pitiful noises behind her. She seemed to be waiting for something. Finally the slave cried out, "Please! Finish me! Finish me! Make me cum!" The woman's smile widened as her arm moved suddenly in a tennis backhand that brought the paddle down exactly across the needy slave's ass cheeks. She then put the paddle back in place and walked backstage. The slave gave a very, very loud "Oohhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh" which seemed to go on for a very long time. Then she began thrashing wildly in her bonds and crying out, "Aiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee" as her orgasm overwhelmed her. The crowd responded with a standing ovation. William called for all twelve of the winners to come out on stage with him and then had them bow to the crowd. The applause and cheering continued long after the twelve had again left the stage. After the crowd had finally quieted, William said, "You have just witnessed that what one person experiences as pain, another might find pleasurable. Our next paddling is not a punishment. It is a coming out no pun intended for one of our stage crew. He has been a secret painslut for many years. Tonight he steps out of the closet and onto the spanking bench." As he spoke a young, thin, black male walked out from behind the stage. He was totally naked, but unlike the slaves before him, he retained all of his body hair. He positioned himself on the spanking bench and then waited passively while one of the female security people strapped him firmly in place. Like the male slave in the first round, his balls were very visible between his slightly spread legs. Unlike that slave, however, his partially erect prick was also clearly visible. All five winners for this round walked out from behind the stage together and stood in a line behind his naked ass. Three of the winners were female, two were male. The males were at the head of the line. The first man picked up the paddle and gave it a practice swing. Then standing slightly to the side of the painslut, he delivered five equally-spaced strikes squarely on the young man's ass. The first strike brought an obvious cry of pain. But the "Aiiee" of the first strike slowly morphed into an equally loud, but softer "Aaahh," but the time the fifth strike landed. While the paddle was changing hands, William said to the crowd, "I call your attention to the video projection on the back wall of the stage." The crowd looked up to see video feed from beneath the painslut. His prick looked enormous on the screen and it bobbed up and down as small droplets of pre-cum gathered on its tip. The next winner stepped up. He also gave a practice swing before beginning. His swats were not equally spaced, however. He seemed to wait for the slut's ass cheeks to unclench before delivering the next blow. It was obvious from the bound young man's cries and the amount of pre-cum oozing from his prick that he was continuing to be turned on by the spanking. The first of the three women then took the paddle. She delivered her swats extremely fast. So fast, in fact, that the painslut's body reacted almost as if it were one swat. The second woman paused to get a feel for the paddle. She swung it back and forth several times before stepping into place slightly to the side of the spanking bench. Then she drew back and swung in a sweeping arc all the way until impact. His cry of "Aieeeaaahhh" proclaimed that she had properly "followed through" on the swat, allowing the force to be transferred to the paddle after that first instant of impact. Her next four swats, at apparently random intervals, were similarly effective. He responded both to the pain and to the sexual excitement that pain created. His prick was now bobbing wildly. It was apparent to most of the crowd that he was very close to climax. The final winner accepted the paddle from the second woman. She also took a moment to get a feel for it, but rather than swinging it, she bounced it several times against her right hand. She was evidently left-handed because that was the hand in which she held the paddle. She stepped into place and swung in a fluid motion that landed the paddle directly in the middle of the slut's ass cheeks. After a pause, she again struck, this time slightly above center of the swollen cheeks. The young painslut was now moaning loudly. She slammed the paddle again against his ass and the projected image suddenly became blurred as he ejaculated onto the camera lens. The woman waited patiently for the young painslut to quit thrashing with his orgasm and then brought the paddle down once again. This time there was no passion component to the scream as a loud "Aiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee" resounded through the stands. After a short pause, she delivered her final swat which created an even louder and more shrill, "Aiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!" As the winners walked back to behind the stage, William chuckled slightly, "Well, he's out of the closet," he said. "And I think he has learned a very valuable lesson about the difference between male and female painsluts." He paused until the crowd became silent and asked, "How many of you know what difference I am referring to?" There was a loud buzzing as various people told those around them what they thought he meant. "When a female painslut orgasms," he said loudly, "she is still sexually excited. She can possibly even go on to another orgasm if the pain continues." He shook his head and said softly, "But when a male painslut orgasms, his body drops out of arousal and no longer produces endorphins or other responses that turn pain into pleasure. Any pain following ejaculation is only pain." As the stage crew helped the young man to stagger to back behind the stage, William finished with, "That's why the normal rule for a partner of a male painslut is Pain until he pops. After care begins immediately after that.'" William looked to stage right to watch a couple walking out from behind the stage. He was dressed in a tuxedo while she was dressed in a sequined evening dress. "I need to remind you that what is about to happen is this woman's fantasy. She wrote the script on this. We are doing nothing that she has not consented to. In fact, although she didn't give the specific details, everything that happens was requested by her." As soon as William finished his explanation, six masked men who except for the masks were dressed identically to the security people from earlier rushed out of the shadows and grabbed the woman. She screamed for her husband to help, but he responded loudly. "Why should I help you? I am the one who hired these men. Tonight you are going to get what you deserve and everyone is going to see it happen." The men dragged her over in front of the last spanking bench and began tearing the dress from her body. Beneath the dress she was wearing dark stockings held up by a garter belt and a matching set of black panties and bra. Two of the men held her arms over the top of the spanking bench while the other two positioned her stocking clad knees on the lower padded kneeler. Once her legs were strapped firmly in place, the two men holding her arms stretched them down to the front restraining bar and cuffed them in place. They then adjusted the height to pull her tightly in place, but they did not strap down her body with the large strap that would have gone over her lower back. She bucked and twisted in her restraints and screamed, "How can you do this to me!? People can see me!" "Oh!" her husband roared back, "You are afraid that people can see you? Then why don't we just give them something to see?" He then made a show of opening an overly-large pocket knife and began cutting his wife's bra from her body. One quick cut up the back and then a swipe at each of the straps and the shiny black band of cloth fluttered to the ground. "Noooooooooooo!" she screamed. "They can see my tits!" "They'll see more than that in just a moment," he said as he slipped the tip of the knife beneath the side of her black, french-cut panties. He pulled outward and the fabric fell open on one side. He repeated the motion on the other side and the fabric flapped open in the front and back, but would not drop because it was held in place by her garter belt which was holding up her stockings. "Oh," he said dramatically, "I guess that will have to go, too." He then reached up and cut each of the suspender straps and then the back of the garter belt. The elastic band popped loose around her waist. One of the masked men reached in and grabbed it. She screamed shrilly as it was pulled from beneath her stomach. Her husband then reached up from behind and pulled the tattered remains of her panties from between her legs. Somehow, she looked more naked with her stocking drooping on her legs than the slaves had with no clothing at all on their bodies. Her wild gyrations while she screamed and thrashed were also much more obscene than had been the fully-restrained struggles of the previous inhabitants of the spanking bench. "Do you know how many swats you are going to get with this paddle?" her husband asked ominously. "No," she answered back. Then she began begging, "Please don't do this to me in public. I would never be able to stand the shame. Please, please, please." William's voice inserted itself between her cries and her husband's next comments. "Her safe word is rutabaga'" he said softly. "If she even whispers that, all of this will stop." Her husband seemed to wait for him to finish his announcement before screaming, "You deserve this! You deserve all of this! You have been asking for this all year with your bad behavior and now I am going to spank your ass in front of all of these people until you cum at least twice." "Nooooo!" she cried out, but even the most dense person in the audience could tell that the shakiness in her voice was cause by arousal, not fear. The husband then stepped into proper position and swung the first blow with the wooden paddle. He knew what a paddle was and how to use it. The wood landed with a resounding "Smack!" against the skin of her ass. Her voice cried out in a loud "Aieeeee!" "The first one always hurts, no matter what," missy thought as she watched from above. She noticed, however, that the wayward wife did not clench her ass cheeks in anticipation of the next smack. In fact, the muscles of her legs were totally relaxed as she opened herself up to the impact and the pain that would follow. "Smack!" the second blow sounded. Someone in the audience yelled out, "Yeah, give it to her." She screamed slightly, but her cry was already changing from the "Aieee" of pain to the "Aaah" of passion. Between the smacks, her ass bounced wildly. For a proper spanking, she should have been held tightly in place, but evidently she knew that her wild motions would display her sex more lewdly to the crowd. She also knew that she was opening and closing herself in her gyrations almost as if she were intentionally twerking for the crowd. The movements made it even more obvious that her hairy snatch and the insides of her thighs were quickly becoming coated with her love juices. "Smack!" the husband continued his relentless assault on his wife's ass. "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" His pace was slow and deliberate. He was giving enough time for the full measure of pain to spread through her body before layering on another swat. Meanwhile her outcry had changed to a low moaning wail which increased slightly in volume with each blow of the paddle. "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" Her ass was making wild circles in the air, coming up to meet the paddle with each swing. Her wail was starting to break up into a series of high pitched grunts and squeals. "Oh, ah, oh, ah," she was almost chanting as the paddle struck again and again. "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" She was now raising her ass to meet the paddle and then slamming her front down hard onto the padded bench. Each time her sopping cunt hit the bench she would grind forward pressing herself hard against the now slick leather. "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" Her cry changed to "Harder, harder, harder, harder, harder" as she followed her own orders and slammed herself harder and harder against the leather of the bench. Suddenly she stiffened and arched her back as much as she could with her arms held low beneath her. She raised her head and thrust her ass up toward the paddle as she burst forth into a high- pitched scream of passion. "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" the husband continued pounding away with the paddle. His wife was now flopping like a fish out of water as she arched and straighten her back and wailed out her orgasmic cry. "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" She totally stiffened. Her body was quivering and shaking against the pads as her hands and legs pulled strongly against their restraints. "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" She was making no sound at all now. Her back was again beginning to arch as she threw her head far back so that she could breath in greater and greater quantities of air. "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" She exploded into a second orgasm. Her ass was pumping up and down furiously as she slammed her cunt into the leather. Her face was making circles in the air as she shook wildly and screamed out incoherently. "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" Her husband gave her several more hard swats with the paddle and then stepped back, breathing hard from exertion. She thrashed and screamed for another moment or two and then collapsed senseless against the leather of the bench. The crowd stood and cheered and applauded and stomped their feet. Several of the security crew came back out front. Their masks from the beginning of this fantasy were hanging loose around their necks. Four of them quickly released the restraints from the wife's arms and legs. They then picked her up under their arms and carried her backstage still unconscious. The husband followed along behind them, still carrying the paddle which had fulfilled his wife's erotic fantasy. William waited for the crowd to settle and said, "Now it's time to complete today's punishment of our repentant terrorist." He pointed to the spanking bench on the stage. "You will notice that this restraint bench is a larger than the ones used up to this point." He held up the paddle and said with a deep chuckle, "So is the paddle." Holding the paddle with the handle upright, he said, "And you will notice that there is a thin video cable attached to the handle of this paddle." Pointing to the wide end of the paddle, he said, "There is a small video camera embedded in the tip of this paddle. If you watch the projection on the back wall of the stage during this punishment, you will see a paddle's eye view of an ass being thoroughly punished." That comment was greeted with shouts and applause. "So," he continued, "let's get our little terrorist in place and bring out our next winner." Missy's cage descended to the stage. William unlocked the huge padlock on the door and opened it so missy could step out. He then slowly and carefully removed the collar and shackles and finally the manacles which held her wrists. He followed behind her as she slowly walked over to the bench and put herself in position. Four female security officers came out and began strapping her in place. These four were nowhere near as burly as the security people from earlier. William had selected them for their looks, not their skill. He knew that missy would give them no problem. Once she was firmly in place, William announced, "Our ninth runner up is Harriet Anderson." A middle-aged woman in tight pants and a halter top bounced out onto the stage. "I've always wanted to be on the other side of the paddle," she bubbled. The audience laughed. "Remember," instructed William, "just hard enough to make a loud pop is the most painful." He then handed her the paddle. She stood behind missy for several seconds swinging the paddle like a baseball player awaiting the first pitch. The image projected on the back wall showed the intended target. Then she swung two-handed and slammed the paddle into missy's ass. It made a very loud "Smack!" and missy gave an equally loud screech. The woman swung four more times in quick succession and then stood panting with the paddle in her hand. It was hard to tell if it was from exertion or if she had been that turned on by swinging the paddle. Missy, meanwhile, wailed in pain. "Thank you, Harriet," William boomed out as he took the paddle from her hands. The audience gave her a short round of applause and then he announced, "Our eighth runner up is Raul Rodriguez." An Hispanic gentlemen stepped onto the stage and William handed him the paddle. He made no attempt to warm up, but instead immediately began swatting missy's ass. Each of his blows resounded throughout the arena and missy yelped slightly louder with each swat. She had tried to go into the pain, but each winner had a different style and it takes several swings to get into the pain. Missy was starting over every five swats. Again the crowd gave a short round of applause for his efforts and William announced the next winner. This continued until the second runner up had completed her turn with the paddle. William then turned to the crowd and said, "Our grand prize winner the one who gets to apply the final six strokes of punishment to our repentant terrorist is Alexander Berkman. His essay about the fact that his wife lost her job at one of the companies whose computers were affected by this terrorist won him the right to finish her off on this day of punishment." He stretched out his hand and said, "Welcome Mister Berkman to our stage." A young man in his mid-twenties walked out onto the stage. His dark hair and beard were very neatly trimmed. He took the paddle from William and then began to position himself properly behind missy. Before he actually began swinging, he leaned in very close and said softly to her, "Hello, Vicki. I hope you appreciated using my program as much as I did creating it." It was Jarred! The final winner was the young man who had duped Vicki, now slave missy, into inserting the virus on the store's computers. He laughed softly as he stepped back into position with the paddle. The audience watched on the projection screen as the paddle zeroed in and slammed down very hard on missy's already red and swollen ass. He struck five more times at a measure pace. It wasn't slow, but it wasn't hurried. Missy was screaming at the top of her lungs. She was screaming, "It's him! It's him! It's him! It's him!" but with the roar of the crowd her voice was unintelligible. After the sixth blow, he turned and faced the crowd. William came over to shake his hand and congratulate him on a job well done. He smiled in satisfaction that he once more had rubbed everyone's face in his brilliance and cunning. As William took his hand, however, he suddenly shook violently and dropped to the ground. Several men in black uniforms with protective vests that said "Homeland Security," rushed onto the stage. William turned to face the startled crowd. "I want to thank Homeland Security for the loan of this marvelous hand tazer," he said as he held up his right hand displaying a bright silver disk in his palm. "Lying on the stage in front of you," he began to explain, "is an unrepentant terrorist. I won't say his true name because I don't want to add to his fame. But he is the one who wrote the virus slave missy was convicted of planting on her store's computer." The officers had Jarred's arms tightly cinched behind his back and were marching him offstage as William continued, "He had the arrogance to enter our little lottery... and the technical hacking skills to make sure that he was one of the twenty-five finalists. He wrote a very convincing essay to insure that he would be in at least the top nine and get to apply his paddle to missy's ass." He shook his head as he and the audience watched Jarred being loaded into an armored vehicle of some sort. He then continued, "But pride often leads to stupidity. The name he chose, Alexander Berkman, was a rather famous anarchist in the early 1900s." He turned to watch as the security babes began to release missy from her restraints. "He forgot that big brother is always listening on the internet. That name was flagged and its use triggered an investigation." He helped missy to her feet and then turned back to the crowd to say, "I am sure you will be seeing more of Alex Berkman or whatever his slave name ends up being in the near future." The crowd stared back in stunned silence for several moments as what William had just explained sank in. Then they erupted in an extremely loud cheer that continued as he helped missy into the cage and closed the door. Before the cage rose into the air, he said softly, "I've known since early this morning. I couldn't risk telling you in case you panicked and scared him off." He paused and then said, almost defensively, "... and I had to let him swing the paddle. You've come too far for this to all get thrown out because a day wasn't taken properly to completion." Missy just smiled weakly at him and grabbed hold of the bars of the cage to steady herself as it rose into the air. An hour later, William returned with the ATV and trailer and hauled her back to the RV. When the got there, she went immediately to her bedroom and lay face down on the bed. Her ass was very, very, very red; very, very sore; and very swollen. A few minutes later William came in to apply the healing ointment that would take away the pain. "It looks a lot worse than it actually is," he said softly. "A couple of applications of this and you will be good as new." Missy turned her head to look at him. "Why," she asked, "didn't it hurt as much as I thought it would?" "Larger is not always harder," he replied. "The paddle was bigger, and slightly heavier, which meant that the people swung it slightly slower and that there was a bigger surface area in contact with your skin when it hit. The reason a cane hurts so bad is that it is small and it is light so you can whip it through the air." He laughed slightly, "Besides," he continued, "the paddle was a slapstick." "I didn't think it was very funny," she huffed back. "Slapstick means funny," he replied, "because in the really old days, vaudeville comedians would hit people with a big wooden paddle that made a lot of noise, but didn't really hurt. That's because it was actually two very thin paddles separated by an equally thin air space. What the audience actually heard was the two paddles or sticks slapping together. It was a slap stick. That huge paddle has a slap stick built into it and a microphone alongside the camera to pick up the noise." "The paddle was a fake?" she said incredulously. "Not a fake," he replied, "just augmented so it made more noise that expected." "And you kept telling people to hit only hard enough to make a loud smack," she said, raising up slightly from the bed. "Were the other paddles also slapsticks?" she asked. "No," he answered, "they were totally real. But those people don't have another show tomorrow." She relaxed back onto the bed while he continued smearing the salve on her bruised behind. "That tazer thing you zapped Jarred with was real, too, wasn't it?" she asked sleepily. "Very real," he answered. "And so were the agents from Homeland Security. That boy has angered a lot of very important people. I think the courts will be very harsh on him." He patted her on her red ass and said, "You lay here quietly while I fix us supper. I'll call you when it's ready." "OK," she replied. Then as William was leaving the room, she said in a soft, but bitter voice, "I hope they send him to the mines." = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN OF THIRTEEN = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Chapter Summaries Chapter One: Vicki LeClaire is convicted of all charges. A sentencing agreement is negotiated by William Wilson, a professional slave sentence negotiator. This chapter primarily sets the scene for the rest of the book. Once that is done, the action near the end centers around public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Two: Vicki's "Day of Repentance" and her humiliating descent into slavery, including being renamed as slave missy. This chapter centers primarily on public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Three: The first of missy's 11 days of public punishment. On this first day of punishment, Master Hiroya Takahashi demonstrates properly trained pony girls, and instructs missy on the proper way to receive a punishment spanking. The focus of this chapter is pony girls and public spanking. Chapter Four: The second day of punishment begins with a flogging contest by a company called Judicial Placements Incorporated. Her negotiator... and new Master, William Wilson flogs missy the required forty-six times to fulfill the terms of her sentence. This chapter is totally focused on non-consensual flogging. Chapter Five: Slave missy's third day of punishment. She is once again subject to a spanking, this time by the head of a private girl's reformatory. Before her spanking, several of the young women from the reformatory also receive public punishment. This is a spanking chapter with bare hand, slipper, paddle and leather belt. Chapter Six: The fourth day. On this day of punishment, she is caned... by a robot, or more accurately, by a computer driven mechanical spanking machine. Before her caning, James Madison demonstrates his companies machines. This chapter focuses on mechanical flogging, paddling, and caning. It also delves into self-bondage and pain-pleasure. Chapter Seven: The fifth day. Slave missy is punished by water combined with heat, cold and electricity. This chapter focuses on various types of water punishment. Chapter Eight: On the sixth day of her punishment, missy is introduced to "The Whipmaster." Before punishing her he provides a demonstration of his abilities. The chapter is focused on public nudity, public humiliation, and public flogging of one sort or another. Chapter Nine: The seventh day for slave missy is a day for electro-punishment. Slave missy becomes part of the vidshow, "Wheel of Pleasure, Wheel of Pain." Chapter Ten: The eighth day introduces a unique punishment punishment by combat. There is also an undercard of slave wrestling with humiliation and pain in store for the loser. Chapter Eleven: The ninth day of punishment is a lottery. The public is given the chance to paddle the repentant terrorist. Eight lucky winners each get to give her five swats with a special paddle. One lucky winner gets to finish the forty-six required for her punishment by laying six swats of the paddle across missy's ass. The undercard is also part of the lottery. Three slaves in need of punishment will each receive 20 swats, again with one lottery winner delivering 5 of those swats. In addition there are two volunteers. One is a male member of the stage crew who is coming out as a pain slut. The other is a woman who has been at every performance so far and wants to experience public punishment and humiliation. Hers is a special case and her husband will deliver however many swats it takes to make her cum. Twenty-five winners were chosen to participate. Each was asked to write a short essay saying why they should be the one to deliver the final six to the repentant terrorist. The winner finishes off missy. Chapter Twelve: This tenth day returns missy to old school punishment as she receives an old fashioned caning. There is also a contest between slaves to see who can withstand the most strokes of the cane. Chapter Thirteen: (Last Chapter) Slave missy finally reaches her final day of punishment. After having been punished by hand, slipper, paddle, cane, water, and electricity, missy is punished with pleasure. She is strapped into a high-tech denial/teasing/edging device and taken to the very brink of orgasm 46 times.

Twelve Days a Slave 4 of 13 by The Technician slavery, public nudity, public humiliation, flogging = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Slave missy is flogged on her second day of punishment. This is the story of a young woman's conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. After the woman is convicted, a "sentence negotiator" gets her sentence reduced to a public day of repentance followed by eleven days of public punishment. Following that, she is to serve one year of penal servitude. This story deals with non-consensual punishment, pain, and involuntary slavery. If such topics offend you or upset you, I would advise skipping this particular book. There are thirteen chapters to this story. The chapters can be read on their own, but the story is much better understood if the previous portions have been read. The complete story is full book length. I debated publishing it with some of my other books at Fiction4all, but decided that I would rather serialize it and post it here. A description of the thirteen chapters follows the end of each chapter. In this chapter, the second day of punishment begins with a flogging contest by a company called Judicial Placements Incorporated. Her negotiator... and new Master, William Wilson flogs missy the required forty- six times to fulfill the terms of her sentence. This chapter is totally focused on non-consensual flogging. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician} The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Chapter Four - A Corporate Flogging Contest Missy awoke to the smell of coffee... and bacon. "Get your ass out of bed," she heard him yell from the other end of the bus. It wasn't an angry yell, it was just loud. After stopping in the bathroom for her morning routine, which seemed so much shorter now that she didn't have to worry about her hair, she padded into the kitchen barefoot and, of course, naked. "I've lived by myself for so long that I have just gotten used to cooking," William said as she arranged her towel on the bench at the table and sat down. He poured her a cup of coffee and set a plate in front of her with bacon, eggs, and toast on it. There was a small jar of jam on the table. "Today will be both easier and harder than yesterday," he said as he slipped into the bench on his side of the table. "I want you to keep in mind that this is all one great big performance. The people and the courts think that the primary purpose is to punish you, but the primary purpose is to make money." He paused to take a noisy sip from his coffee. "And we can't make any money if you are too badly damaged to do tomorrow's performance." He chomped on a piece of the bacon and scooped a whole egg into his mouth with his fork. Pointing his fork at her he became very serious. "Keep that in mind, and trust me in this. If the pain starts getting too bad, remember your fantasies. I have a feeling that helped while Takahashi was whaling on your ass." After another huge mouthful of food, he paused to chew for a moment and then continued, "And don't let the undercard performances scare you. They don't have another show tomorrow. You do." Missy wasn't sure what he meant, but decided not to ask questions. Instead she slowly ate her eggs and toast. As she had always done, she saved the bacon for last and chewed it slowly between sips of coffee. When William got up to do dishes, she also stood and said, "Let me do that." He sat back down as she stood at the sink. While she washed, he said, "We'll be taking a parade lap through town at eight. You need to be oiled up and ready by then." Again missy didn't know for sure what he meant, but when she turned to look at him, he was holding a bottle of baby oil and a tube of some thicker gel. When she had finished the dishes, he handed both to her and said, "It would probably be best if you did this outside so you don't get this shit all over everything in here. Wait til I get changed and we will walk back to the trailer." A few minutes later, he came back out of his bedroom wearing a set of blue coveralls. Motioning with his head for missy to follow him, he stepped down out of the bus and walked to the side door of the trailer. "Stand there and get yourself oiled up," he instructed and went into the trailer. He added, "Use the gel first and then smear it out with the oil. I'll do your back after I get the unit out of the trailer." While missy was rubbing the slimy mixture over as much of her body as she could reach, William backed the ATV and cage out of the trailer. He then walked back over to missy carrying the chains and shackles. "Your costume," he said as he held up the collar. Missy obediently turned around so he could fasten it around her neck. She then turned and held up her arms, still holding the oil, so he could lock the manacles on her wrists. Since she wasn't in the cage, she didn't need to lift her legs for him to reach her ankles. Once all the chains were in place, William took the oil from her and motioned for her to turn around. The only area that she could not reach had been the center of her back, but William rubbed the oily mixture thoroughly into her back and then moved down. Soon his hand was once again rubbing between her ass cheeks. She moaned slightly and his fingers slipped between her legs. A few moments later, he suddenly withdrew his hand and said, "That should put you in the proper frame of mind to get through this." He then led her over to the cage and locked her inside. Once she was in the cage, he returned to the big trailer and dragged out another small trailer. This one wasn't really a trailer. It was more of a sign on wheels which he connected to the back of the trailer holding the cage. The sign looked very much like the side of the bus. It had the picture of missy in chains and said, "slave missy's Punishment Tour. Witness the punishment of a repentant terrorist." What was different was a white area at the bottom of the sign which said, "Today! Fairgrounds - 2:00 pm." It also gave a telephone number and a website where people could buy tickets. "Hold onto the bars," he instructed. "That way you won't get thrown around in there." He started to get on the ATV but stopped and added, "But remember to move from side to side so people on both sides of the street can see your face." With that he started up the ATV and headed for the entrance to the fairgrounds. The morning air was slightly cool and was even cooler when you were standing naked in an open cage moving at 30 mph. Missy soon found herself shivering and she turned to face the back of the cage to at least keep the wind off her face and the front of her body. It was lucky for her that she was facing backwards because just as William turned to go through the square a crowd of youngsters unleashed a barrage of eggs. Most hit the street around the trailer, but several found their mark and splattered against her side and back. She heard William curse and suddenly the ATV was moving as fast, or faster, than the traffic around them. He shortly arrived back at the fairground and drove immediately to their bus. "I'm sorry about that," he said as he opened her cage. "Are you hurt?" "No," she answered, "just smeared up a little." She gave a smile that was more like a grimace and added, "at least it helped protect my skin from the wind." William looked slightly embarrassed. "Well," he said, "I hadn't figured on that either." Looking up at her he added, "But it won't happen again." He took her over to the side of the trailer and said, "Let's get you washed off and re-oiled." Then leaving her standing alone he went into the bus and returned with a small bowl of warm water and a wash cloth. After carefully wiping off the splattered egg, he mixed the gel and oil in his hands and re-applied it to the areas he had just cleaned. "Stay here a moment," he said, pointing to the side of the trailer. He then disappeared around the other side of the bus and returned pulling a hose. After rinsing down the cage, he motioned for her to re-enter it. "We're running late," he said. The courts demand a minimum time for the punishments. I convinced them to include display time, but we have to get you up in the air to make sure some tight-assed judicial assistant doesn't declare this day void." Missy hurried into her cage and William placed the huge padlock on the door. A few minutes later the winch was once again lifting her up above the stage. William stood beneath her and said, "Showtime is 2:00 o'clock. I'll be back by then, but I have to make some special arrangements first." He pointed to four men in black jeans and T-shirts standing at the corners of the stage. "They will make sure that the local juvenile delinquents don't get out of control again. With that he ran off the stage and took the ATV back over to the bus. *** Being on display naked in a cage above the stage was humiliating, but there is only so much humiliation you can experience. After a while, it is no longer humiliating. It just is. Missy stood in her cage watching the stage crew set up a series of posts along the edge of the race track. There were twelve posts spaced at odd intervals. The first two were a little less than five feet apart, then there was a space almost double that before the next two posts. There were also a pair of posts mounted on some sort of rolling stand that was pushed up onto the stage and moved against the back wall where it was covered with a large cloth that was the same color as the stage wall. When the stage crew returned and began bolting chains to the top and bottom of each post, missy suddenly realized what they were or at least what they were for. It was especially clear when the crew began attaching wrist restraints to the upper chains and ankle restraints to the short ones at the base of the posts. One thing that still puzzled missy was that the posts on her right all had leather restraints while the posts on her left had metal ones like she was currently wearing. Another thing which seemed odd was that they seemed to be constructing another smaller stage off to the right side of the big stage. When they put up a canopy and began setting up microphones she thought to herself, "I wonder what sort of music they play for a punishment?" At noon, her stomach began telling her that she hadn't eaten. Shortly thereafter her ears began telling her that music, itself, could be punishment. It was some sort of local band. They were young, loud, and, at best, mediocre. Since they were local, however, there were many in the gathering crowd who applauded each song when they were finished. The band continued to play all the way up to the two o'clock showtime. At exactly two, Mister Wilson came striding out from behind the stage. He was again dressed in his tuxedo. He lifted his microphone to his mouth and bellowed out. "Welcome to punishment day three of twelve for the repentant terrorist, slave missy. Today is sponsored by Judicial Placements Incorporated. When you need a short-term slave for those projects in your home or business, the place to go is Judicial Placements." He then walked over to stage right and gestured out toward the smaller stage where the band was starting to dismantle their equipment. "And our warmup music from The Smathers Smashers was sponsored Harold and Lillian Smathers." Missy giggled slightly to herself as she figured out that the lead singer's parents had paid for him to perform. "Isn't that supposed to be the other way around?" she said aloud to herself. "I mean, if I were so bad that I had to pay places to let me perform, I think I would give it up." "But you didn't come here today to listen to bands," William continued in his stage voice. "You came here today to see slaves punished." There was a great roar of applause and whistling from the crowd. "And of course," he continued, "you especially came to see slave missy get her just desserts." Again the crowd erupted. "But first," he said, holding up his hand toward to the crowd, "we are going to see the punishment of some household and business slaves." As he was speaking, a column of slaves began walking slowly toward the stage. They must have been held somewhere under the grandstands because they came around the end of the stands and walked in front of those seated on the track. There were two guards with each slave. The guards were dressed in black jeans and black T- shirts with the word "SECURITY" in big yellow letters across the front. As the front of the column passed the center of the stage, missy could see that on the back, the T-shirts read, "Judicial Placements Security." The first three slaves were men. They walked past the front of the stage and each stood between two of the posts. The last three slaves were women. They stood between the posts on stage right. "Oh," missy said. "That's why the difference. Men get metal restraints. Women get leather." She held up her wrists in front of her face. The chains clanked noisily as she did so. "Well," she continued, "most women get leather." The security men bound each of the slaves in a tight "X" between the posts. "All of these slaves volunteered to be here today," William said loudly. "You might wonder why a slave would volunteer to be flogged," he added almost with a laugh. He shook his head as he answered, "They didn't. They are being flogged for misbehavior. They volunteered to be flogged HERE today because the law stipulates that any flogging given in public counts double." He looked almost pensive, "I'm not sure why they limited that to flogging and not other forms of punishment," he said, "but everyone today is going to be flogged so it doesn't really matter." He then pointed down to the row of bound slaves. "The other thing which the law stipulates is that the slave must be flogged by his or her master. Since these slaves are owned by Judicial Punishments Incorporated, they will be flogged by members of the JPI board." At that point a large, very muscular, black man came walking out onto the stage. He was that deep shade of black that comes only directly from Africa or perhaps from one of the Caribbean islands like Jamaica. As he reached center stage, William said warmly, "I introduce to you, Mister Nicardo Gordon, CEO of Judicial Placements Incorporated." He handed a second microphone to Nicardo and said, "Tell us what is going to happen this afternoon." Nicardo looked out at the audience with a steady gaze. "Well, William," he began, "when you offered us the opportunity to sponsor one of these days of punishment, I immediately thought that we should also offer some of our slaves the opportunity of being publicly punished." He gestured to the six naked figures restrained between the posts. "All of these slaves have committed very serious infractions... up to and including attempting to escape. After a proper judicial review, they were each sentenced to 40 lashes." A loud flow of murmuring swept through the crowd. He held up his hand and said, "Such a serious flogging is not something we want to do, but there are times when discipline must be maintained." He smiled again, this time showing a significant amount of teeth. "But we are not heartless," he continued. "We let it be known that this venue qualified for the two-for-one aspect of public flogging, and all six volunteered to allow you to witness their punishment in return for receiving only twenty strikes with the flogger." He then turned to stage left and said, "Would the board please come up on stage?" Four men and eight women walked out to join him. Ten were dressed in black jeans with a black polo shirt. The Judicial Placements logo was on the left side of the front of the shirt. The logo was also on the back, much larger, with "Judicial Placements Inc" printed beneath it. Two of the women, however, were dressed very differently. Both were wearing black leather. One was wearing a black leather coverall that clung tightly to her shapely body and approached being a catsuit. Calf-high black leather boots with four-inch heels completed the outfit. The other woman was wearing a leather miniskirt with a leather jacket. It appeared she might be wearing the black JPI polo shirt beneath the jacket, but it was hard to tell. She was also wearing black leather boots, but hers were very shiny and came up to just below the edge of her miniskirt. Nicola smiled again at the crowd and said, "Two of our board members have direct responsibility for acquisition and training." He laughed slightly and added, "I will leave it up to you to guess which two." A rumble of laughter went through the crowd. "Each slave will receive ten lashes," he explained. "Then they will be turned around so that they face the stage before they receive the second set of ten." With that, the twelve members of the board walked back off the stage and formed a line behind the slaves. Evidently while everyone's attention was on William and Nicola on stage, the stage crew had brought in a long table and placed it against the front of the stage. On the table, arranged so that about an inch of their handles protruded off the front, were twelve floggers. One of the women stepped up to the table and picked up a flogger. She then walked behind the woman restrained in the first set of posts. She stood slightly to the side and reached in with her arm to check the position of her swing. As she did so, the long leather strips of the flogger dragged across the slave's back. The slave gasped in response and jerked within her bonds. "Just making sure I'm hitting in the approved area," the woman said. She then pulled back her arm and swung with a measured fury. The lash slapped loudly as the leather struck flesh. The slave grunted slightly, but did not cry out. The woman struck again... and again... and again. Each time, the slave's vocalization became louder and her struggles within her restraints became much more frantic, but she did not cry out. The woman swinging the flogger was beginning to perspire. Her hair was tumbling out of place. Her arm came back further and further with each swing so that she would have more momentum when she struck. William voice came over the speakers, "Ten," he said, and the woman dropped her arm to her side. "And what do our judges say?" he asked, gesturing over at the smaller stage where the band had been playing. Missy turned within her cage to see what he was pointing at. Her eyes widened as three men and two women sitting behind a table on the small stage held up large cards with numbers on them. One held a number one, three scored the flogger at 2, and two gave her a 3. "That's a score of 2.2," William said. "The member of the board who scores highest," said Nicola, "gets a significant bonus." "Plus," William added, "there has been significant betting by members of the audience as to which Judicial Placements board member is the best with the whip." He glanced down at the two women in leather and added, "I have my own opinion on that, but members of the staff or crew are not eligible to place bets. I will say, however, that 2.2 doesn't sound like it will be the winner." One of the male members of the board now walked over to the table and picked up a flogger. He immediately stepped behind the slave in sixth place and began swinging the flogger. Evidently the blows caught the slave by surprise and he cried out. Most of the blows were striking on the slave's upper back. With each blow he yelled loudly and pulled crazily at his bonds. The individual blows were so close together that the slave's screams seemed to merge into one continuous cry. "Ten... Ten... TEN!" William yelled into his microphone. The man struggled to stop his arm in mid-swing. The strands of the whip barely touched the slave's back. William looked over to stage right and said, "I need a decision from the court on this one." A uniformed woman walked out onto the stage to join him. He handed her a microphone and she said, "Although there was contact, there was no blow, so that does not count as a stroke." She paused and said sternly, "Had he actually struck the slave improperly, I would have declared his punishment voided... and thus fulfilled." She handed the microphone back to William and walked off the stage. "I have a feeling this will not get high marks," he said as he pointed to the judges' stand. Three 1's and two 0's were held up. "That is score of point six," he said shaking his head. Then turning to the crowd he said, "Even without the almost false strike," he continued, "that would not have been rated high. When you are whipping someone regardless of what the whip is you need to put some time between the strokes and vary the time. That way the person has time to absorb the full shock of each stroke and can't prepare themselves for the next one." Pointing back down at the ten board members stills standing on the track he said, "I am assuming that Nicola started with the weakest players on the team." He paused a moment to add some drama and then said loudly, "Prove me right!" Another of the women stepped up to the table and picked up a flogger. Missy, watching from above, noted that she stood slightly off center to right of the slave. The woman was evidently left-handed. She was also evidently more experienced with a whip. She took a couple of test swings with the heavy flogger and then stepped out of her high-heeled shoes. Standing barefoot she took one more practice swing before bringing the flogger up over her head and swinging it down in a wide arc across the female slave's ass. The sound of the leather striking flesh echoed through the fairgrounds followed immediately by a loud, shrill scream. The woman then reached forward and lightly dragged the tips of the lash upward across the slave's back. Then whipping it around in a twirling motion, brought it back down on the slave's ass with another resounding "thwack." The slave's scream this time was louder and more shrill than before. Now the woman stood quietly with the flogger at her side. Meanwhile the slave continued to whimper and twist in her restraints. The entire venue became very quiet as the slave and the audience waited expectantly for the next blow to fall. That blow took everyone, especially the slave, by surprise. In one fluid motion, the woman brought the flogger out to the side and the slashed suddenly across in front of her so that the leather thongs struck across the slave's ass just above where her ass cheeks blended into her thighs. The scream this time was almost not recognizable as human. It sounded almost like a wounded animal. The next strike was almost immediate and before the slave could even respond to the blow it was followed by a second and a third and a fourth and a fifth. There was a slight pause before one more stroke landed across the slave's ass. Nine strokes had been applied and all nine of them had been exactly across the quivering slave's ass. Again the woman stood passively as the slave writhed in her restraints. Her sobs could be clearly heard all the way to the back of the bleachers. Just as the slave began to quiet down, the woman swished the flogger back and forth several times immediately behind the slave. You could see the slave tensing her entire body and pulling against the restraints as she awaited the final blow. Once again, the woman brought the flogger up above her head, and once again she swung it in a large arc toward the bound female slave. But this time, the strands of the flogger did not crash across the slave's ass. Instead, they landed squarely in the center of her back where she totally didn't expect it. The slave's eyes flew wide open and her mouth opened wide to form a scream, but no sound came out. Instead the slave shook in her restraints for a moment and then collapsed to hang senseless in her chains. The woman retrieved her shoes and then swaggered off the track. She waved to the crowd and they stomped and cheered. She paused a moment to check her scores and then disappeared behind the stands. "That's a 9.4," William announced. "I think some of the judges are saving some room at the top in case any of the board are better." He looked down at the still unconscious slave and said, "I think that performance would have been worth a ten if had been last." He then looked over to the CEO of Judicial Placements and said, "If you did begin with your weakest floggers, then we have a lot to look forward to." The crowd showed their approval of his comment by applauding wildly. The next man picked up a flogger and stood behind the slave in the number eight position. The blows were strong, but were delivered at a steady pace and landed all over the slave's back from his thighs to his shoulders. When he had finished, the slave was sweating and breathing heavily, but was still standing mute. He received a unanimous score of 4.0 from the judges. That score was better than what the next woman board member received. She was so inept with the whip that the female slave was actually laughing at her by the time she had more or less landed her final blow. The crowd booed as the woman walked slowly off the track. Their boos turned to applause as the judges awarded another unanimous score. This time a perfect 1.0. The next two board members were a little better, but not by much. Again, they tried to strike very hard, but did not have any finesse with the flogger and drew not much more than painful grunts from the slaves. Their scores were 3.1 and 3.5. After the slaves had all been flogged once, William again came to the center of the stage with Nicola Gordon. "Tell us a little about Judicial Placements," he said, pointing his microphone toward Nicola for his answer. "Well, William," he began, "we provide temporary or permanent slaves for home or business use. We have slaves of all description and match the slave to the job." He paused and looked down at the six slaves who were being re-positioned in their restraints. "Obviously," he continued, "our household slaves are convicted of non-violent crimes. Many of them are short-term and are unbranded. Some even still have their bodily hair so it is not obvious that you are making use of a slave to clean your house or take care of your kids. Unless you tell them, your friends and neighbors will think you have employed a maid or a nanny." "What about business slaves?" William asked. "Depending on your needs," Nicola responded, "and your security abilities, we can provide workers of every description. We will always," he continued, "help you with your security needs and, in the case of known troublesome slaves, can provide additional professional security." "So these slaves here today are not household slaves?" William asked. "They aren't even business slaves," Nicola responded curtly. "By the time a slave has reached the point of needing this kind of encouragement, they are relegated to the mines or farms." He looked out at the audience before finishing with, "We are doing this public punishment today to show both our customers and our slaves that we take compliance with the judicial directives very seriously." "Thank you Nicola," William said while shaking his hand. "But I see that the crews have reset the slaves for the second round of flogging." He looked down at the six board members still standing on the track behind the slaves and said, "We are ready to proceed with the second half of our program." The slaves were now restrained facing the stage. Their chains, if anything, were much tighter than they had been. One of the men picked up his flogger and walked out behind the number six slave. As soon as he began swinging, the audience began to boo. There was almost no strength to the blows. The next several board members were only slightly better. Some struck very hard and got occasional grunts or screams from the slaves, but they obviously had no experience with the art of whipping and their scores reflected their ineptitude. Finally there were only two board members left the two women in leather. The woman in the miniskirt stepped forward and picked up the flogger. She snapped in briskly several times. Somehow she was able to cause the tips to crack like a bullwhip. The crowd roared their approval. She then stepped behind slave number four. She stood swinging the flogger in front of her for several moments. Again she moved it rapidly enough to cause noise. This time, the noise was a loud swishing sound as the strands of the flogger swung wildly at the end of each swing. She continued swinging the flogger. The male slave was tensing slightly as he heard each swish. The woman waited until the slave's response began to diminish. You can only respond to a menace so many times before your body begins to ignore the threat. Once the slave became unprepared for the strike, the woman swished the whip once more across her front. But rather than stopping at the end of the swing, she continued up to shoulder level and brought the flogger down in a wide arc so that only the last inch or so of the leather strips struck the slave's ass. There was no loud sound of the whip striking flesh, but that was more than made up for by the extremely loud scream of the slave and the applause of the crowd which immediately followed. Her routine of "swish, swish, swish... strike" continued for nine more strikes. Each time only the tips of the flogger touched the slave's flesh, but by the sixth strike, blood was flowing down the his back. After completing the tenth blow, the woman turned to face the audience and bowed deeply before striding off the track. "What do the judges say?" William asked with a flourish. In response the judges held up their cards. There were two nines and three tens for an average of 9.6. "That looks like the number to beat," William said loudly. "Can our last board member top 9.6?" In answer to William's question, the last board member, the one dressed in the leather almost- catsuit, stepped forward and took the last flogger from the table. She also caused it to make noise, but she did it by rotating the handles violently in a tight circle at shoulder level. Her arm was held just far enough away from her body so that the leather thongs did not strike her head. The "wump wump" of the flogger spinning in the air filled the arena. The woman stepped closer and closer to the female slave in position three and then stepped back. She did that several times as the slave cringed and tightened her body awaiting the blow. The woman watched the slave's response and then, while she was backing up slightly and the slave was relaxing her body, she opened the circle of the spinning leather and struck the slave squarely across the top of her back. Unlike the previous board member, this woman's flogger struck with almost the full length of the leather and caused a loud pop that could be heard throughout the stands. The female slave tried to keep from crying out, but a muffled cry escaped her lips. The "wump wump" of the spinning whip began once again. Now the slave was cringing and reacting both as the sound came closer and as it backed away. This time, the woman in leather waited until she was at her farthest point away from the slave and then leaned forward to strike this time squarely across the female's ass cheeks. The slave was totally unprepared for the blow and screamed loudly. Her scream continued as she thrashed in her restraints. Then when she had quieted her body and voice, the "wump wump" began once again. It was obvious that the slave was trying to prepare herself for the blow, but there was no way of knowing where or when the next blow would strike. The woman in the leather catsuit struck low on the woman's ass. Many of the leather thongs actually struck the slave's thighs. This continued for six more strikes. There was now one blow left. The woman began spinning the flogger even faster so that the "wump wump" was both louder and higher in pitch. She stepped forward until the leather strips were just short of striking the slave and then she stepped back. She continued her dance for several minutes. Then she reached up and grabbed the thongs of the flogger. Everything was now quiet. The audience could see that the woman was slowly drawing back her arm to get the maximum strike with the flogger, but she was, for some reason, holding her arm down, not up. The slave was quivering slightly dreading that final blow. Suddenly the woman snapped the flogger forward and up between the slave's legs. Her timing and positioning was exquisite. The slave was totally unprepared for the blow. And the thongs of the flogger curled up on the front of the slave's cunt biting deeply into the total length of her slit. The very tip of the leather strips snapped loudly against the flesh above her cunt. One of the strips evidently landed squarely on the slave's clit because there was a loud scream which continued for many seconds before finally dying away almost like a steam kettle when the heat is turned off. The slave had lost consciousness. Like the board member before her, the woman turned and bowed to the crowd. This time the applause was like thunder and most of the crowd was on their feet. As the catsuit-clad woman strode off the field, the judges held up their scores. "We have a perfect ten!" William screamed. The crowd renewed their applause. After the crowd quieted down and was once again in their seats, William said, "How was that for an undercard event?" The crowd roared out their answer. "We still have the main event yet to come," he said, reverting to his ringmaster voice. "As soon as the JDI security people have removed the slaves and the stage crew has removed the restraint posts, you will witness slave missy's second day of punishment." A recording began playing through the speakers as a large group of men and women in black JPI Security shirts swarmed onto the track and led the six slaves away. Three of the slaves had to be supported by the security people. One, the last female slave, had to be carried. After the JPI guards removed the slaves, the stage crew hastily removed the twelve posts. They also dragged the large framework out into the center of the stage. Missy stared down at the frame from her cage and began to whimper. She had witnessed the ordeal of the six slaves... and they had received only 20 lashes. She would receive 46. How would she ever stand it? Would she even survive it? As the cage began to slowly descend to stage level, she found herself murmuring and then saying and then finally yelling, "No, no, no, no, no..." The door to the cage opened, but missy couldn't bring herself to step out. She was still softly chanting, "No, no, no, no..." She yelped as a hand reached through the bars and touched her shoulder. She spun around and found herself looking into William's eyes. "This is going to hurt," he said. "I won't lie to you. But you can get through it." He reached through the bars and took her hands in his. "Remember what I told you about not getting scared by the undercard. They don't have a performance tomorrow... you do." His voice dropped lower as he added, "You have to trust me that this will not be more than you can endure. Remember that everything we do is a performance. Think about your fantasies and you will get through this." William stepped back around to the front of the cage and motioned for missy to come out onto the stage. It took all of her will to force herself to move, but she very shakily stepped out of the cage. Two of the black garbed security people led her over to the frame and stretched her arms up to the restraints. One guard removed the manacle from her right wrist and immediately the other guard wrapped that wrist in a leather restraint. They repeated that procedure on her other wrist and then on her ankles. The guards were evidently not satisfied with how missy hung in her chains, because one of them reached up and pulled on the end of the chain which was hanging down next to one of the uprights of the frame. There was a loud clicking sound at least it sounded loud to missy as she stood between the uprights of the frame and the tension on her arm increased. He pulled on the chain on the opposite upright and missy could feel her body being pulled taut. The two guards looked at each other and both nodded their heads indicating they were now pleased. "Thank you gentlemen," William said as the men walked off the stage. There was now noone on the stage except missy and her master. "The law," William began in his loud stage voice, "specifies that public flogging counts double." He slowly swung the flogger he was holding in his hands. Missy couldn't help herself as she watched the long strips of leather move back and forth. "Normally," he continued, "that means that the specified strokes are cut in half. But in this case the number of strokes are fixed at 46." Many of the women in the crowd gasped loudly. William gave them time to murmur among themselves for just a moment and then continued. "The proceeds of today, however, will be counted double against this slave's sentence." He moved around behind missy. She could feel her body tensing up against the impending strike. Nothing happened for a long moment... and then her world exploded as the lash hit across her shoulders. The slap of leather against flesh seemed very loud to her and pain shot through her body. It was nowhere near the pain she had experienced when she was branded, but it was definitely more than the hand spanking she had received the previous day. "One," she heard someone say through the speakers. The voice wasn't William's. He must have someone counting for him. The pain came again as the flogger struck at about shoulder blade level. "Two," said the voice. Some of the people in the crowd were starting to count with him. A few moments later, the leather strands slammed into her back just below the previous strike. William was doing what he said a person shouldn't do with a whip. He was striking with a regular measured pace. "Three," called out the voice and about half of the audience. The next strike was just a little lower on missy's back. The one that followed was even lower. It was readily apparent that William was working his way slowly down her body. She prepared herself for the next blow which came exactly on schedule, exactly where she expected it. The pain was somehow less when it didn't surprise her. That didn't mean that there was no pain. Missy screamed and yelled and pulled against her chains. But the pain was not more than she could stand. And she did not lose consciousness. Her mind, however, did seem to retreat from reality. Her body got into the rhythm of the swings while her mind went somewhere else and looked down at her from above. In her mind, she could see the person writhing in pain in the punishment frame, but it wasn't really her even though she could still definitely feel the pain of each blow. When the crowd shouted out, "Twenty-three," William pause and stepped aside as eight members of the stage crew rushed onto the stage and pushed and grunted as they turned the heavy platform around. Missy was now facing the back of the stage. William leaned in close to her and said, "No one can see your pussy anymore. If you want to let your fantasies take over, no one will see you drip." Missy couldn't imagine that what William was doing to her could turn her on. She was even more sure of that when strike 24 landed on her ass. Instead she concentrated on going back to where she had been. By strike 28, she was once again the disinterested observer who just happened to be feeling the pain of the subject she was watching. But she couldn't get William's words out of her mind and as the blows continued to fall, she found herself starting to get aroused. "This can't be!" she thought to herself. The wetness she could feel between her legs, however, told her clearly, "But it is!" As she felt herself getting wetter, the pain began to change. It was still pain... or was it? It was sensation... intense sensation, but was it really pain? William now seemed to be concentrating his blows in one place. They were still at the same measured pace as before, but they weren't moving up and down her body. They were all on her ass. Soon the sensations seemed to move forward from her ass cheeks. It was as if the strokes were, somehow, striking against her cunt. The pain was still in her ass cheeks, but there was another sensation that was definitely in her cunt. It was no longer possible for her mind to observe herself writhing in her chains. The sensations good and bad were too intense. Missy could feel it growing closer as the crowd shouted out, "Thirty-nine." It slowly moved closer and closer with each stroke. "Forty-two." It was almost there. "Forty-three." It was even closer. "Forty-four." Her body was now bucking violently in its restraints. "Forty-five." A scream that began from deep within her bubbled up into her throat. "Forty-six." William's last stroke, like for the slave in position three, was delivered with a rising swing up between missy's legs. Pain shattered through her body and it arrived. She screamed a long, loud, gurgling scream as the orgasm washed over her. The audience thought she was being overwhelmed with pain, but they were wrong. She was being overwhelmed with pleasure. She thrashed and screamed for several moments and then her mind returned to her body. The pleasure was suddenly gone and the pain finally did overwhelm her. She passed out and hung from her chains. William turned and bowed to the crowd. Then he threw the flogger to the stage between missy's feet. Recorded music again began to play as the crowd started to file out of the fair grounds. Many came up to the stage to take pictures of missy hanging limp in the punishment frame. A few minutes later, an ambulance rolled slowly up to the stage. Two paramedics wheeled a Gurney onto the stage itself and stood by as several JPI security guards released missy and brought her over to the cart. "Put her on face down," William said, and they did so. The paramedics quickly loaded her into the ambulance itself. William got into the front with the driver and they left with lights flashing. Although several news crews captured video of the ambulance leaving the race track, none noticed that it didn't go out onto the highway. Instead it proceeded across the fairgrounds and stopped at William's bus. Missy had regained consciousness, but was very shaky as she was led up into the bus. "Should we put her in bed?" one of the paramedics asked. "Face down," William replied. After the medics left, William sat on the bed and lightly stroked missy's head. "I could see the blood on the whip," she said softly. "And I could feel the wetness on my back." Lifting her head slightly, she faced William and asked, "How badly am I cut up?" Her eyes were fearful as she asked, "Will I scar?" "Not unless you are allergic to corn syrup or red food dye," he answered breaking into a smile. He then held up the flogger and explained. "This is suede. It's a very soft leather. It still hurts like hell, but it won't break the skin if you use it properly... and suede is very porous. I soaked it in a mixture of water, corn syrup, and red food coloring." When missy continued to look confused, he added, "Stage blood. I shook off enough so that the whip looked dry when I started, but each stroke deposited some of the fake blood on your skin. By the time they turned you around, your back looked like hamburger. And by the time I was finished, it looked like you were dripping blood onto the ground. The big problem is soft suede doesn't sound like leather, so I had a roadie off-stage with a mic set up close to a folding chair. Each time I struck, he slapped the chair with a thick magazine." He smiled at her once again. "Remember I told you that this is all a performance... and you have another show tomorrow." He handed her a bottle of shower gel and said, "I know it still hurt like hell but it's going to bruise if I don't get the ointment on it, so you get into the shower and rinse that crap off your back. Then come back here and I will rub the ointment on you. By the time missy had returned from the shower, William had turned down her sheets and was waiting with the tube of salve. He examined her back and legs carefully before applying the ointment. He softly hummed something as he rubbed it softly into her back and buttocks. "Will it always be fake?" missy asked. In reply he slapped her ass lightly and she yelped from the pain. "If it was fake," he replied, "your ass wouldn't be all red and swollen. It was real, it was just... augmented for the benefit of the paying public and to make sure that you weren't damaged." He sighed slightly and said, "Some things we can mess with and some we can't. If there is something that could harm you rather than just hurt you, I will augment that performance. It's all going to hurt, though. Sorry, missy, but that's just the way it is." He again patted her ass, this time very softly, and said, "You stay here and let the salve do its magic. I'll fix dinner in a little while and come back and get you." To her surprise, missy had fallen asleep before William came back to call her to supper. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END CHAPTER FOUR OF THIRTEEN = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Chapter Summaries Chapter One: Vicki LeClaire is convicted of all charges. A sentencing agreement is negotiated by William Wilson, a professional slave sentence negotiator. This chapter primarily sets the scene for the rest of the book. Once that is done, the action near the end centers around public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Two: Vicki's "Day of Repentance" and her humiliating descent into slavery, including being renamed as slave missy. This chapter centers primarily on public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Three: The first of missy's 11 days of public punishment. On this first day of punishment, Master Hiroya Takahashi demonstrates properly-trained pony girls, and instructs missy on the proper way to receive a punishment spanking. The focus of this chapter is pony girls and public spanking. Chapter Four: The second day of punishment begins with a flogging contest by a company called Judicial Placements Incorporated. Her negotiator... and new Master, William Wilson, flogs missy the required forty-six times to fulfill the terms of her sentence. This chapter is totally focused on non-consensual flogging. Chapter Five: Slave missy's third day of punishment. She is once again subject to a spanking, this time by the head of a private girls' reformatory. Before her spanking, several of the young women from the reformatory also receive public punishment. This is a spanking chapter with bare hand, slipper, paddle, and leather belt. Chapter Six: The fourth day. On this day of punishment, she is caned... by a robot, or more accurately, by a computer-driven mechanical spanking machine. Before her caning, James Madison demonstrates his company's machines. This chapter focuses on mechanical flogging, paddling, and caning. It also delves into self-bondage and pain-pleasure. Chapter Seven: The fifth day. Slave missy is punished by water combined with heat, cold, and electricity. This chapter focuses on various types of water punishment. Chapter Eight: On the sixth day of her punishment, missy is introduced to "The Whipmaster." Before punishing her he provides a demonstration of his abilities. The chapter is focused on public nudity, public humiliation, and public flogging of one sort or another. Chapter Nine: The seventh day for slave missy is a day for electro-punishment. Slave missy becomes part of the vidshow, "Wheel of Pleasure, Wheel of Pain." Chapter Ten: The eighth day introduces a unique punishment punishment by combat. There is also an undercard of slave wrestling with humiliation and pain in store for the loser. Chapter Eleven: The ninth day of punishment is a lottery. The public is given the chance to paddle the repentant terrorist. Eight lucky winners each get to give her five swats with a special paddle. One lucky winner gets to finish the forty-six required for her punishment by laying six swats of the paddle across missy's ass. The undercard is also part of the lottery. Three slaves in need of punishment will each receive 20 swats, again with one lottery winner delivering 5 of those swats. In addition there are two volunteers. One is a male member of the stage crew who is coming out as a pain slut. The other is a woman who has been at every performance so far and wants to experience public punishment and humiliation. Hers is a special case and her husband will deliver however many swats it takes to make her cum. Twenty-five winners were chosen to participate. Each was asked to write a short essay saying why they should be the one to deliver the final six to the repentant terrorist. The winner finishes off missy. Chapter Twelve: This tenth day returns missy to old school punishment as she receives an old- fashioned caning. There is also a contest between slaves to see who can withstand the most strokes of the cane. Chapter Thirteen: (Last Chapter) Slave missy finally reaches her final day of punishment. After having been punished by hand, slipper, paddle, cane, water, and electricity, missy is punished with pleasure. She is strapped into a high-tech denial/teasing/edging device and taken to the very brink of orgasm 46 times.

Birching Miss Birch - Part One of Three by The Technician BDSM, F/f, Slavery, Spanking, Mechanical, Electro, Edging, Cold Water, Humiliation = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A Mad Bitch Office Manager is tamed by her secretary. An autocratic and abusive office manager, known by all who work under her as The Mad Bitch, is retrained during a weekend Wilderness Bonding Experience and turned into a submissive slave, lily. Slave lily is a natural-born pain-slut, so this story eventually gets to a lot of pain and humiliation. If that isnt your preferred genre, you might want to skip this story. Also, all sex is F/f, so if you want M/F or M/f, this isnt your story. I said eventually, because I am currently in the process of writing another book under the Wayne Mitchell name and my editor has told me to spend more time developing the plot situations. Im testing it out in this story. There is absolutely no sex in the prologue, so you can skip that if you want and the story still makes sense. Once it gets to the good stuff, it stays good to the end. The story is in three parts. Each part stands more or less on its own, but makes more sense if you have read the previous parts. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician} Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Prologue (The background information nobody ever reads) When Gustaf Otto Birke boarded the boat that would take him to America, he was certain of two things. One, he would escape the terrible circumstances that all Germans found themselves in following their terrible defeat in The Great War, and two, he would become an American. His brother had emigrated to the new world in 1908 before the war, and both he and his children, especially during the war years, were subjected to great teasing and distress because of their German heritage. Gustaf knew what his brother and his family had gone through and was determined that he, and his family, would fit in. His children and grandchildren would not have to face the teasing and humiliation that his nieces and nephews had faced. The war had interrupted his plans to join his brother but, meanwhile, his conscription into the intelligence branch of the German army gave him the chance to learn American culture and perfect American English. He would not have the problem of a German accent in his new land. And he would not have the problem of a German name. Gustaf now knew that whatever name he gave at immigration would be his name in the new world. So, he would not just transliterate his name from the German to the English alphabet and spelling, as did many immigrants. He would translate his name from German to English when he declared himself to the immigration clerk. And so it came to pass that on May 05, 1919, Gary Birch left Ellis island to begin his new life in America. Had he been more acquainted with American slang, he might have reconsidered his name choice. If he had done so, perhaps his great-great-granddaughter, Amanda, would have turned out slightly differently than she did. Chapter One of Three Amanda Jo Birch was shaped by her strict German heritage but even more so by her name or perhaps more specifically by the cruel corruption of that name which plagued her as she grew up. Amanda Birch always told people, Call me Maddy, and most used that name. But throughout her school years, behind her back and sometimes even to her face she was referred to by her classmates as Miss Bitch. As is often the case, its difficult to say if her acerbic approach to life was the result of the teasing, or the teasing was the result of the angry way in which she approached life and the people around her. Most likely it was a combination of both. In grade school, Miss Bitch was primarily because when teased, she didnt resist or respond to the person teasing her, but instead sought out some weaker or more vulnerable girl upon which to unleash her anger. Later, as she began to grow into her name, her classmates changed their taunt to The Mad Bitch. She proved more than worthy of that name by opening multitudes of social media accounts under a variety of names and then using them to post snarky or even malicious comments on her fellow students pages. Everyone suspected that it was actually her, but no one including the police when they became involved were able to prove anything. Regardless of what began her spiral into bitchiness, by the time that Maddy Birch graduated from college and entered the business world, she was, in fact, a real, 24-caret, bitch. Her innate German determination and drive enabled her to rise quickly to middle management level where she just as quickly stagnated because the employees under her did not seem to respond as expected to her autocratic and brutal management style. Those who were unfortunate enough to work under her did not know that they were continuing years of tradition when they referred to her when she could not hear them, of course as The Mad Bitch. But the name now suited her perfectly. No other office manger wrote up people for minor violations of the company dress code. No other manager reported those who took a little bit longer than usual lunch hour to celebrate a co-workers upcoming marriage or childbirth. But the Mad Bitch did. Her behavior and personality became so well-known that it soon became the general practice throughout the entire company to refer to her at all times as Miss B, and let the other person fill in either Birch or Bitch in their own mind. Four years had now passed with Maddy as office manager and she was starting to get desperate. She knew very well the standard business rule of before five to stay alive. If you did not move upward within five years of entering a particular level or position, you were effectively locked into your current position for life. Upper management was open only to young, up and coming talent, not old, stagnated people who had reached the peak of their ability. Four years had passed. She had one more year to prove herself, or her dreams of reaching the heights of the business world would be forever lost. It was, of course, not her fault nothing ever was. It was the fault of those ungrateful slobs who worked under her. They did not appreciate her skill and power and did not do what she demanded of them. They were holding her back. The final straw was when she was accidentally included on an email that circulated throughout her office. Attached to the email was a colorful image showing a caricature of her in an exaggerated leather dominatrix outfit with a whip in her hands. A speech balloon from the stocking-clad image said, The beatings will continue until the morale in this office improves. The signature on the image in very ornate script was The Mad Bitch. For several minutes after she opened the email, Maddy sat at her desk trembling. She had to bring the office under control, or all was lost. She immediately closed her email program and began searching the net for some miracle program or technique that might save her doomed career. There were hundreds of possible programs and retreats intended to improve an office environment, but none of them seemed to be what she needed. Then she saw the ad from Wilderness Bonding Experiences. There were two things about the ad which immediately caught her attention. The first was the claim in bold font across the top of the page, Turn your office around in a weekend your company in only seven days. The second was in much smaller type and located near the bottom of the screen. In barely contrasting font it said, Now a Subsidiary of KMartin Enterprises. Wilderness Bonding was owned by the company for which Amanda Birch worked! The next Monday morning at the general management staff meeting, Maddy floated an idea to upper management. I understand, she began, that we have recently acquired a division that does team bonding training in a wilderness area in Kentucky. She waited until the proper faces had turned toward her and continued, I was thinking that perhaps we should use one of our properly working areas to test out their system. Then, if we have a problem somewhere, we have already vetted the process. She had prepared several different arguments intended to convince upper management to select her office for the test. But before she could begin any of her prepared presentation, her boss surprised her by heartily agreeing with her suggestion. That is a very good idea, Miss Birch, he bubbled. And since it is your idea, I think that you and your office should be the ones to test out this process. We can have temps and the night shift cover your workload for a couple days while you are all gone. He then leaned close to the regional supervisor sitting next to him and said, Sometimes its handed to you on a silver platter. Ive been wracking my brains trying to figure out how to get her and that office into some sort of intervention and training for almost nine months. He coughed slightly to cover his next words. It was that or fire her outright without clear cause. She is starting to be a real pain in the ass. Im pretty sure this training is going to be another fiasco for her, but it will solve things for me one way or the other. The man next to him laughed, And Ive been trying to find a way to shut down that program so we can sell off their land. It overlooks a lake and is right next to a national park. We could subdivide it and make a killing. Her going down in flames gives you the excuse to fire her, and having them fail at turning her office around could be just the excuse I need to close out the program. Maddy, however, heard none of this as she inwardly rejoiced that she had an opportunity to whip her subordinates into shape. Give them a weekend in the wilderness alone with her, and no one would ever question her authority again. Her moment to savor this victory was cut short, however, by her bosss curt order, Make sure you sell this to your section, Maddy. From everything Ive read, the people have to want to do this or it wont work. That might be a problem, she thought to herself. Anything that I propose will immediately be rejected by those clowns... except Darla. Darla Lewis was her personal assistant. She had been with Maddy for nine years since the first day both of them came to work for the company. I am hitching my wagon to your star, Darla had said to her that day. Youve got the degree and the proper background. It also looks like you have the looks, the connections and the right skin color to move up. You can go far, and you are taking this fat, little black girl from the projects all the way to the top with you. Darla then tilted her head and turned it slightly so that it appeared that she was looking at Maddy with just one eye. With Maddys full attention, she said, You promise me that you will always take me with you, and I promise you that I will do whatever it takes to get you there. Maddy knew that Darla was possibly starting to regret her choice, but she was still intensely loyal and had helped smooth out more than one incident in the office before it boiled completely out of control. Darla would sell it to the rest of the office. Maddy could count on her. In fact, Darla not only sold it to the office, she made all of the arrangements, including arranging for child care for any of the single parents in the office. The company was going to pay for everything, and as an added bonus, not only would the Friday and Monday travel days not count against vacation time as it did in some companies, the office staff would receive one extra vacation day for each day of the training, including the Saturday and Sunday. Both of those items were Darlas ideas and she sold them not only to the office staff, which was relatively easy, but also to the upper echelon in accounting that would have to approve the expenses. It took a month to put it all together, but the Wilderness Bonding Experience was finally in place. Darla even suggested that it would be better if they used a bus to travel to the site together. Maddy presented that to upper management as her own idea, but Darla was the one, of course, who made all those arrangements, too. So one Friday morning in September, Darla, Maddy, and the entire office staff which worked under her boarded a 40-passenger bus headed for a small town in the mountains of Kentucky. Darla, in her typical efficient style, distributed an In Case You Have Never Been To Camp Before memo telling everyone what to bring and what to expect. She even reminded them that early fall in the mountains can be a bit nippy so they should bring proper clothing for outside activities. Darla and Maddy sat alone in the front row seat across from the driver for the long drive. As was often the case when they were alone, Darla had let her speech slip into the ghetto dialect of her youth, Miss Birch, Darla told her as they got close to their destination, theres a whole lot o shit goin on here that you aint ware of. Ive got connections wit other secretaries and assistants and I know whats goin down. Maddy looked at her with obvious concern on her face as she continued. You gonna have to trust me on this. I know whats got to happen, and it will get you dat promotion by the end of the year. OK, I guess, Maddy answered.But you really should have let me know sooner. You might not have agreed to come if you knew the complete parameters of the program that is planned for this intended bonding experience, Darla replied. Maddy was somewhat taken aback as she realized that Darlas home-girl language had suddenly morphed into perfect English. Darlas face also suddenly lost its perpetual smile and wide eyes. I learned long ago, she said, that Phi Beta Kappa and Magna Cum Laude dont mean shit if youre just a fat little black girl from the projects. If I was white, or at least pretty by white standards like Halle Berry, I might have had a chance. But after I graduated, there were no job offers for a flat nosed, big-lipped African beauty like me. Her eyes were now boring into Maddys as she continued, I decided that the only way to make a difference for those coming up behind me was to grab onto somebodys white ass and ride his or her coattails to the top. An executive assistant ends up making most of the decisions anyway. I thought you had the potential to go all the way, and you do... if you would just stop being a Nazi Bitch and treat people right. Maddys mouth and eyes were now wide open. She was about to put Darla back in her place, but was interrupted by the swoosh of air brakes setting and the hiss of the front door opening. Everybody out, yelled Darla. Your bonding experience begins now. Maddy was still trying to say something as Darla pulled her out of the seat and guided her down the steps to the ground. A tall, athletic-looking black woman was waiting for them, along with several other equally athletic men and women. All were wearing form-fitting jeans and sweatshirts with the Wilderness Experience logo over their hearts. Good to see you, Darlene, the tall woman said. Were both a long way from the projects, arent we Jessie? Darla replied. Everything set up? You and the Mad Bitch are out in the solitude cabin, Jessie answered. You will be out there totally by yourselves so no one can interfere. Well do the team building with the rest of the office here at the center until you join us Sunday night. Wait a minute! Maddy sputtered in anger. What do you mean well be separate? This whole thing is about getting the office to recognize my power. Both Darla and Jessie laughed, and Darla replied, No, Miss Bitch. This whole thing is about saving my ass and Miss Jessies. And to do that I have to save your ass... among other things. She pointed down a long path. You and I are going out to the solitude cabin for a little management training. While were gone, your office is going to learn how to work together and how to be the best office in the company. She then smacked Maddy on the rump of her designer sweat pants and said, Now grab your things and get your skinny white ass moving. Maddy turned to directly face Darla ready to tell her off, but the look on Darlas face immediately cowed her and she picked up her briefcase and travel bag from the row of things set out by the driver and began walking down the path in the direction Darla had indicated. Darla picked up her suitcase and a rather large duffle bag and followed her down the path. The cabin was almost a mile away. The walk was long, but not overly difficult since the path was paved and smooth. Maddy was even able to wheel her suitcase behind her on the path. When they got to the cabin, it was locked, but Darla produced a key from her pocket and let them both in. The sign above the entrance said Solitude, which matched the isolated setting for the cabin. The interior of the cabin was small, but relatively modern. In the large front area, there were two beds a double and a single a small table with four chairs, and a huge, stone fireplace. A door behind the beds was open revealing a small, but modern looking bathroom taking up one corner of the cabin. A small, but complete, kitchen area, took up the other half of the back of the cabin. Darla set her suitcase and large duffle bag down near the fireplace and walked back to re-lock the door behind them. You really dont think anyone will be trying to get in, do you? observed Maddy. Darla laughed and answered, No, I am making sure that no one can get out. The laugh left her voice and her face as she turned to Maddy and ordered, Now strip! What?! Maddy screamed. No! I will not strip. Why should I? Because deep down, you know that you want to, answered Darla softly but firmly. You gave me a copy of your encrypted password file in case your computer drive ever crashed. You didnt give me the password to open it, but I have the same password program on my computer. Darla shook her head slightly as she spoke, It didnt take much to guess your username and password. Your whatever-grandfathers immigration papers hang on the wall behind your desk, and you look at them every morning like they were a Picasso. User name, she said, Amandah Birke German version of your name. She then spelled out, M-a-y-0-5-1-9-1-9" and laughed. I signed in as you and got all of your other user names and passwords, including your personal ones that you never use at work. Then I checked out ALL of the sites you have been visiting. Maddy stood sputtering, How could you?! I had to, Darla replied, almost yelling. You were going down in flames, girl, and you didnt even have the brains to know what was happening. You never even realized that the whole purpose of this weekend was to give them sufficient cause to fire you... and to close out my friend, Jessies, program. She huffed again in anger and spat out, I had to do something. Darla turned Maddy so they were standing face to face. When I first looked at the sites you were visiting, I thought you really were a God-damned sadist because that matched up with how you have been treating the people under you. You have a very interesting internet history. You spend most of your evenings visiting a lot of sites showing women tying up women... and spanking women... and forcing women to orgasm. At first, I pictured you getting yourself off staring at those images imagining that it was me beneath your lash. She laughed again, this time very deeply. But then I found your chat logs, and your electronic diary. Maddy was starting to cry. You arent a sadist, Darla growled. Youre a pain-slut who is afraid that people will find out about you, so you act like a bitch in public and masturbate to pain-slut porn in private. Thats why you act like a bitch and push everyone away! Another sarcastic huff of breath showed her anger. But its all an act. You werent trying to dominate or bully them. You were afraid they would dominate you... but at the same time you craved it. You wanted it. You needed it. Because in the depth of your soul, you are just a natural born pain-slut. No. No! That isnt true, whimpered Maddy. All these years that you have been pushing and provoking people you have been secretly hoping that someone would finally snap and fight back... or even enslave you. And the reason that you treated the women under you even worse is that you were secretly hoping that it would be a woman who finally revolted against you. No, No, that isnt true, Maddy repeated. This time her voice was much softer. I thought I could push you to the top by being the power behind your throne, but I was wrong. For you to get to the top, I need to be the Dominatrix over my Sub. Once more, Maddy whimpered, No... no... that isnt true. If it wasnt true, Darla snapped, You wouldnt be taking off your blouse right now. Maddy looked down at her hands which were unbuttoning the last of the buttons on her blouse. Youre a pain-slut in need of a Mistress, Darla barked out. And I am going to correct that. Her voice got stronger and louder, taking on a tone Maddy had never heard before as she ordered, Now strip... and that means everything including your watch, rings, and earrings. I want you naked, kneeling at my feet like the submissive slut you really are. Maddy sighed and kicked off her sandals. She slowly slipped her blouse off her shoulders. Then she began removing her sweat pants... then her blouse... then her bra. Her jewelry came next. Finally she was standing trembling in just a pale blue pair of panties. Darla stared at her for a moment and then walked over to the large duffle bag she had brought to the camp with her. She returned with a black leather crop and stood there in front of Maddy slapping it softly against her hand. She said nothing, but Maddy gave a soft moan and slowly lowered her panties to the ground. Because I had to convince you to finish stripping, Darla said sternly, there is a punishment due before you kneel before me. Put your hands on that chair. Maddy did so and a loud smack resounded as Darla raised a welt on her ass with the crop. Now you may kneel, Darla said, and Maddy sank to her knees on the floor at her feet. Darla said nothing for several moments. But during that time, for some reason, a slight smile appeared on Maddys face as she knelt before her Mistress. The thought, Im actually happy this is happening, ran through her mind. Maddy had reason to be happy. All of the anxiety and fear that had plagued her for so many years was suddenly gone. A sense of peace flowed over her as she looked up into the face of her new Mistress. Its true, she said silently to herself or at least she thought she said silently. Repeat that loud enough for me to hear it clearly, ordered Darla. Slaves dont keep things from their masters! Maddy remained silent in shock that she may have expressed those inner thoughts out loud. The crop once again descended on her ass. What did you say? asked Darla. Shout it out loud and clear or I will beat your ass until it bleeds. I said, Its true, answered Maddy loudly. Its true. Im a natural-born pain-slut. All the mean things that Ive been doing to people all these years have all been so they wouldnt find out. But I found out, didnt I? said Darla with an evil-looking smile. Now I know the truth about you. You are nothing but a natural-born pain-slut. And the truth about me is that I am a natural-born Mistress who would love to give you all the pain and humiliation that you can ever stand. We are going to make a great team from now on, my little lily-white pain-slut. Darla stepped slightly backward and sat down on a chair that she had pulled out from the table. This weekend is just the beginning, she said softly, but sternly. In the days and weeks to come, I am going to use a system of reward and punishment to turn you into my perfect slave. And I am going to train that perfect slave to be a perfect manager when shes in public and a perfect submissive when she is home alone with me or with my friends. Maddy remained silent with her head down as Darla continued, We are going to start tonight with a true combination of reward and punishment. She lifted Maddys chin and asked, As you masturbated to all those images and videos on those nasty web sites you were visiting, which one turned you one the most? When Maddy only stared back at her in confusion, Darla laughed and said loudly, What kind of punishment turns on my little lily-white pain-slut the most? She paused before continuing, I am letting you choose your first punishment as a reward. Maddy still looked confused so Darla said, You still dont get it, do you? You are my slave now, and I am giving you the reward of being able to cum while I punish you. What did you see on line that really popped your cork? She paused and added, Were are going to recreate that live...right here...tonight. Maddy slowly stammered out, A spanking... a naked spanking... naked over the lap of a Mistress... a naked Mistress... a naked, black Mistress... ... with a leather paddle. My, my, my, responded Darla. You are juicing up just telling me that. She laughed again with a deep laugh that seemed to go right through Maddy. And this is your lucky night, cause I have a chair, and I have a leather paddle in my bag. All this black Mistress has to do is get naked and beat your ass purple until you cum all over me. Darla laughed again, but this time it almost sounded like a normal laugh. This is going to hurt you a lot more than it hurts me, but I think we are both going to really enjoy this. She stood up. You stay right there, lily I like that name. That is what I will call you from now on, lily, for lily-white pain-slut slave. Now, lily, you stay right there on your knees and try not to drip on the floor too much while I get ready. Darla walked over to the closets which were built into the side wall of the large cabin and started hanging up her clothes. When she was standing naked, she came back and got her suitcase and duffle bag. Additional clothing from the suitcase was also hung in the closet. A matched set of black leather bustier, gloves, and boots as well as an assortment of whips, paddles, and restraints were pulled out of the duffle bag and laid out on one of the beds. Maddy alternated between looking at the growing puddle on the floor between her knees and the array of leather instruments on the bed. Finally, Darla returned and stood in front of her. She was totally naked and her black skin shone slightly in the soft light of the cabin. She was a large woman, but there were no folds of fat hanging from her body. Instead her body was rounded large, but also very fit. There was obviously a lot of muscle under those curves. Her pubic hair was not shaved, but her extremely tight curls concealed neither her large labia nor her prominent clit. She pulled a chair over in front of Maddy and sat down. Put your skinny ass over my lap, she ordered, and Maddy fell forward onto all fours, crawled over to the chair and lifted herself over Darlas lap. First order of business, Darla said as she patted Maddy on the ass, is to teach you the proper position for this. She spanked Maddy really hard once with her bare hand. I want nothing but your fingertips and the tips of your toes touching the ground. Maddy immediately went into the described position. And I want you across my lap so that your hip bones are on my right leg and the middle of your rib cage is on my left leg. Again, Maddy shifted so that she was in the proper position. And finally, I want your ass turned up as far as you can turn it so I can see the pink of that dripping cunt of yours. Maddy arched her back trying to rotate her ass upwards. More than that! Darla commanded. She emphasized her command with another hard smack of her bare hand. More than that! Another smack. Darla repeated the command and smacks three more times before she was satisfied. How many strokes do you think you deserve with this paddle? she asked as she tapped the leather paddle lightly against Maddys upturned ass. I dont know, whimpered Maddy. I tell you what, Darla replied. There are 32 people in the office, not counting you and me. Lets keep this simple. How many strokes do you think you should get for each person in the office? Th... th... three? stuttered Maddy. I was thinking two, but three it is, answered Darla. You are going to count each stroke, and if you miss one, I start over. The proper way to do that is to give the count and then thank me for it. That means you say, One. Thank you, Mistress Darla. Two. Thank you, Mistress Darla. all the way up to 96. She tapped Maddy ass slightly harder with the paddle and asked, You got that, lily? Yes, Maddy answered. Darla slammed the paddle very hard into Maddys ass and said, That should be Yes, Mistress Darla. That is what you are to call me from now on. If we are alone, it is Mistress Darla. If we are in public, like at work, it is Miss Darla. You and I will know that Miss is short for Mistress. A light tap with the paddle was followed by, You got that, lily? Yes, Mistress Darla, Maddy answered. Good, Darla replied. We are starting now. Remember, you lose count and we start over. She then brought the paddle down smartly on Maddys ass. It wasnt an overpowering blow. Darla knew that it was just the first of 96, and she had promised lily that she could cum from the spanking. Pain-slut or no, beginning with overwhelming pain would not bring about sexual pleasure. Maddy lily dutifully counted each stroke. Darla was afraid that perhaps the rising pain would make it difficult for her slave to stay on track and give the proper count in the proper fashion, but that was not the case. The pain was not overwhelming lilypleasure was. Years of suppressed submissiveness was bubbling up from the depths of Maddys being with each smack of the paddle. As slave lily she was now free to be the submissive slut she was born to be. Each slap of the paddle against her skin sent waves of pleasure throughout her body. That pleasure seemed to flow from the heat of her ass cheeks to between her legs from where it radiated out to the rest of her body. By the time she said, Forty-eight. Thank you, Mistress Darla, she was vibrating and quivering on Darlas lap. Dont you dare cum, lily, until we reach 96, Darla ordered. You are my slave now. I OWN you. I own everything about you and that includes your orgasms. You will cum when I say you can, not before. Maddy continued to shiver and shake on Darlas lap. Her motions were practically throwing her body off of Darlas knees, but somehow she kept her orgasm under control. Slap! Ninety-three. Thank you, Mistress Darla. Slap! Ninety-four. Thank you, Mistress Darla. Slap! Ninety-five. Thank you, Mistress Darla. Slap! Ninety-six. Thank you, Mistress Darla. NOW you may cum! Darla barked out and Maddys body spasmed and shook. Her back arched so greatly that both her hands and her feet were pulled from the ground so that she was balanced on Darlas lap. Actually, she was balanced on Darlas right leg, furiously grinding her pubic mound into Darlas muscled thigh. She screamed and rocked in that position for a couple of minutes before totally losing control of her body. Her arms and legs flailed wildly as she tumbled to the floor. She lay there on her back thrashing and screaming until the intense orgasm finally subsided and she lay panting in a puddle of her own sweat and cum. Darla laughed and said, I guess that removes any doubt in either of our minds about whether or not you are a natural-born pain-slut, doesnt it, my lily-white pain-slut slave? Yes, Mistress Darla, Maddy answered. It does. Stand up and let me look at you a little closer, Darla ordered, and Maddy drunkenly wobbled to a standing position. Hands on your head, Darla snapped. Feet a little more than shoulder-width apart. Maddy did as ordered. Pull your elbows back as far as you can so they are even with your back. Maddy adjusted her posture. If I tell you to present yourself, Darla explained in a firm voice, this is the position you get your ass into. You got that? Yes, Mistress Darla. I see that you shave your armpits, Darla said matter-of-factly, and you trim the hedge a little. Maddy blushed slightly at that intimate description of her personal hygiene. But I want you as smooth as a babys ass, Darla continued. For now, I am going to shave you properly, but once we get back, I am going to make arrangements for permanent hair removal. You got that? Yes, Mistress Darla. I like the sound of that, Darla laughed. Do you like saying it, lily? Yes, Mistress Darla, she said, her face coloring deeply at the shame of that admission. Darla just laughed even louder in response. Get your white ass up on that bed. Take the covers down so we dont get them wet or messed up and I am going to cut the grass. Maddy pulled the covers from one of the beds and lay back on the sheet. Scootch your white ass down so your legs are bent over the end of the bed at the knees... and spread those legs so I can get at your hairy cunt. Maddy did as instructed. Meanwhile, Darla again went over to her duffle bag and returned with a small electric hair trimmer, a can of shaving cream, and a package of razors. This is actually a mustache and beard trimmer, Darla said, but your cunt beard isnt much different than a mans face beard. Once we get this trimmed back, I will shave off the stubble. The buzzing of the trimmer filled the cabin for several minutes. Darla whistled to herself softly as she worked. When it was finally silent, Darla said, The trees are felled. Time to clear the land. She shook the can of shaving cream violently for a few moments and then sprayed a goodly dollop into her hand. As she rubbed the white foam into Maddys cunt she said, This is menthol. It will start feeling a little cold in just a bit and might sting a little but it works best for taking off the stubble. She looked up at Maddys face from between her legs. You know, I used to do this in my mommas beauty shop. Most of the time we did this and the intimate waxing in a back room, but once in a while we would have someone who wanted it done right out there in the main shop. There was one girl a skinny white girl just like you who wanted it done in chair number one, right up there by the front door. Local kids would see her come into the shop and would gather at the window waiting to see some white pussy. She always turned red as hell and said that she was soooo embarrassed, but by the time we were done, she would be flowing like a fountain. She ran a finger through Maddys slit, causing her to gasp loudly and then moan. I bet you would do this on the sidewalk out in front of the shop. Darla laughed when Maddys cunt spasmed around her finger in response and juices again began to drip from between Maddys pink, nether lips. As Darla was wiping off the leftover shaving cream with a towel, someone knocked at the front door. Maddy automatically started to bring her legs together, but Darla slapped the inside of her thigh and said, You dont cover up unless I tell you to cover up. You just lay here on the end of the bed with your cunt hanging out like a good slave while I let LeRoy in. LeRoy was a very thin, very black, man who looked like he was somewhere between fifty and a thousand years old. He had the leathery, weathered look that many black men take on early in life and then carry unchanged for many, many years. Good to see you, Darla, he said as he came in the door. Good to see you, too, LeRoy, she replied. Then she turned toward the bed and said, LeRoy here is an artist with the needle. Hes going to mark you for me just an outline for now. Later we are going to go down to his shop and he will fill in the color and shading. What I want will take several trips downtown, but when we are done, it will look like solid gold lettering on the surface of your skin. LeRoy set a small black bag down on the floor between Maddys legs and pulled out a small tattoo gun and some other supplies. He rubbed what felt like Vaseline onto the skin just above Maddys cunt and then began drawing on it with what looked like an eyebrow pencil. After a few moments he called Darla over. Is this exactly what you want? he said. Then he laughed and added, Make sure you check the spelling. There aint no autocorrect in my needle gun. Darla ran her hand lightly over Maddys skin as she spelled out, P-r-o-p-e-r-t-y o-f M-i-s-t-r-e-s-s D-a-r-l-a. She patted Maddys cunt and asked, Does that sound right to you, lily? Yes, Mistress Darla, was the immediate response. Lily? questioned LeRoy. I thought her name was Amanda. You done fogot yo own heritage, boy? Darla said, slipping back into her ghetto talk. The name yo momma gave you dont mean squat to da Master. Im her Mistress and shes jus a lily-white pain-slut. So, her slave name is lily. LeRoy responded with a laugh. Then maybe, he said, I need to put some crossed lilies behind the wording once you bring her into the shop. Make me a drawing, replied Darla, and give me a price. Maybe we will do that. Only add about $300 to the cost of the tat. he said. Then he patted Maddys mound, looked up at her with a smile, and said, I aint cheap, but Im worth every penny of it. Maddy gasped slightly at the noise as he turned on the tattoo gun. She gasped even louder as the buzzing needles first touched her skin. LeRoy was indeed very good. He was also very fast. Simple outline like this dont take much time at all, he said as he wiped down the new tat. And I used the smallest needles so irritation should be minimum. By tomorrow morning, it shouldnt even be red. Sounds good, Darla said. And Ill settle up for the cost of the outline when I bring her in for the start of the coloring. That also sounds good, LeRoy replied. But there is still the matter of reimbursement for my travel. Ah, there is that, isnt there LeRoy, Darla laughed. Lily here will take care of that like we agreed. Maddy suddenly realized what Darla might be talking about and started to lift herself up from the bed. Darla pushed her back down and said, You just stay where you are, lily. LeRoy is already in the right position to collect his travel pay. LeRoy stood up and lowered his pants to the ground. His body may have been wire thin and old looking, but his prick was thick and plump and ready to go. He lifted Maddys legs up into the air and set them on his shoulders as he pushed forward and entered her in one swift move. God, shes wet and ready, he said as he slammed into her. She must have been getting off on the pain of the needles. Shell probably cum all over my hand while I am doing the color fill-in. He continued to thrust in and out of her for several minutes before suddenly shuddering and slamming himself into her one last time. As he stepped back and began to pull up his pants, Darla said gruffly, What do you say, lily? I dont know what you mean, she answered. What do you say, Darla continued, to someone who has given you something. Oh, said Maddy. Thank you, Master LeRoy. Its just Mister LeRoy, he replied, but you are very welcome. Dont worry, LeRoy, Darla said. Shell get it right when she gives you your tip after each layer of the coloring. With that, LeRoy collected all of his equipment back into the black bag and departed. After Darla had re-locked the door, she returned to where Maddy was still lying at the end of the mattress. You just stay there where you are, lily, Darla said. You have to learn that you dont go nowhere unless your Mistress tells you to go there. You got that? Yes, Mistress Darla, Maddy automatically responded. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END PART ONE OF THREE = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Alternate Incarceration by The Technician = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Mardina finally gets justice for what happened to her. This is more of a SciFi story than an erotic story even though much of it deals with highly non- consensual sex. A series of college girls are attacked by a rapist who uses a special drug to overwhelm them. The drug not only incapacitates them, it also fogs their memory and prevents them from identifying him... until the great-great-great-great-great-grandson of the legendary W creates a suit that records people's thoughts and dreams, including things they don't consciously remember. Like many of my stories, this takes place in an alternate society. In this case that alternate reality is in the distant future. I often like to envision what the world might be like long after I have become the dust of history, so the emphasis of this story is the workings of a possible future world. But this post deals with very non-consensual sex. The descriptions are not overly graphic, but if highly non-consensual sex is not your thing, you might want to skip this story. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2016 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Mardina messaged me just before shadow off and said she had to speak with me immediately. The Scott Shield has just begun to turn transparent in our quadrant, so the light streaming in through the windows was very subdued. It was still more than sufficient for me to pad my way barefoot into the fooprep to grab a cup of coffee from the fooport. I've been out in the crop lands where the shields open much earlier depending on the crop cycle. With the sun still low in the sky there, shadow off is much different. The shields also open fully later in the day so that sun is much brighter even during replanting time. The gmon crops grow very well in the intense sun, but the few humans who still live there have to either remain underground during suntime or venture out into the full sun only if they are encased in UV survival suits. I often wish that our ancestors hadn't screwed up the earth so badly that our survival depended upon creating an entirely artificial environment. It would be nice to be able to look out over the city and actually watch the sun rise over the horizon rather than have a shield high above our atmosphere slowly open to allow the calculated amount of sunlight for the day to filter down to the ground. I've been off-planet and experienced natural sunrises. Believe me, it is nothing like the 4D experiences available at the vid houses. Earth sunrises weren't always artificial. I have journals and stories from my great-great-great- great-great grandfather, W, where he writes about sunrise on the beach or in the mountains. I found these stories many years ago when my grandfather gave me some antique data sticks which he said had been given to him by his grandfather and to him by his grandfather. I had gone to visit my grandfather in the comfort home. He had asked to see me, so I tubed up to Canus North to visit him. He asked his careper to leave us alone and then told me to bring him the small book which was on display on a shelf near his bed. (For those of you who have never seen one, a "book" is a series of paper pages with writing on them. At one time they were the only way to distribute stories and other written things.) In any case, Geep as I always called my grandfather held the book in his hands and bent the hard first and last pages back so that the thick cover over the front of the book gaped open. He then shook it slightly and two data sticks fell out onto the thin blanket that covered his legs. "I think W intended these for you," he said softly. He then opened the book and turned to the last page where he showed me a handwritten note. The note was in an ancient form of writing called cursive. Very few people today are able to read it, but Geep had insisted that I learn it. "This note is from W," he said and then he began to read, ""Within this book is a great treasure. It is my journals, stories, and complete designs to the various devices I have manufactured. When the right man... or woman... arises, give this book to them and show them how to access the treasure." He then bent the book backwards again and slipped the two data sticks back into its cover. Evidently they sat in some sort of depression, because when he closed the book, the cover remained smooth. As he held the book out to me I asked, "Why are you giving this to me?" Geep laughed and said, "You are named after him, you know." My first name begins with a W, but since I never knew the legendary W's full name I didn't realize we had the same name. "There must be more than that," I said, taking the book from his hand. He smiled at me and said, "Nurse Julan showed me one of your pleasure devices." He glanced at the closed door rather furtively to make sure that we would not be overheard. "A rich boyfriend bought it for her. She smuggled it in just to show it to me because she knew that you were my grandson." He gave me a very big smile and added, "She was afraid that I would be offended, but she thought I should know that you were successful even though no one in the family knows what it is that you do." I gave a short laugh and smiled back at him, "Geep," I said, "very few people know what it is that I actually do, but yes, I am starting to be successful... and someday will hopefully also be very rich." "What you do," he said carefully, "is what W did." Pointing to the book he continued, "That's why I know that these are definitely for you." Shortly after Geep's funeral, I officially changed my name to W, and the name of my business to W5G. If anyone asks, I tell them that it means that I am the great-great-great-great-great grandson of W, himself. I keep scans of the records which prove that just in case anyone tells me to prove it. A lot of things have changed over the decades, but human sexual behaviors haven't well not very much. I updated many of W's original designs to account for our current technology, and I added many new designs of my own. I am now very successful and more wealthy than I had ever dreamed of being. Mardina belonged to a customer of mine before she became one of my companions. It took her almost a year to trust me enough to tell me what it was that had destroyed her life. She had been well on her way to becoming a space architect with dreams of building new cities in high orbit beyond the moon, but something happened. She spiraled into drugs and worse, finally ending up selling herself as a pleasure slave to pay off her many debts. When she came to me, she was seeking a machine that would give her pleasure, but more importantly would somehow prevent the nightmares that plagued her sleep. I didn't have such a device. I had many that could give her pleasure, but there was nothing I had or knew of that could prevent nightmares. I suggested a device which would give her pleasure before going to sleep and a different device actually made by a competitor to keep her in deep sleep until the dreams were totally over. That way she wouldn't remember the bad dreams. Her owner, who had accompanied her to my place, was willing to pay almost any price to heal his pleasure slave. "When she is good," he said with a wry smile, "she is very, very good." His face changed as he added, "But when she has these dreams, she is terrible." My device did give her pleasure. And the other device did keep her in deep sleep. But even when she didn't remember her dreams, she awoke drenched in her own sweat, her body feeling like she had tumbled to earth in a failed cargo pod reentry. Her owner was not pleased and demanded his money back. In response, I offered to buy her contract at the full price he paid for her. He instantly agreed. In fact, he left her at my apartment that day and returned to his estate. As soon as I transferred the monunits, her contract was transferred to my account. When Mardina knelt to submit herself to me, however, I lifted her back up and said, "No, I did not buy YOU. I bought your contract. I bought it so that I could free you." As she stared at me in total shock, I continued, "You may leave now if you desire or you may stay in my guest room. As a free woman, the choice is yours." I let her absorb what I had said before saying, "But if you are willing, I would like to test some of my devices on you, including a new device that can read your memories and shape the form of pleasure they give you based on what you desire or find pleasurable. It may even help you get over your nightmares." Her eyes remained wide as she slowly nodded her head and said softly "I will stay forever if you can help me." I waited a week before introducing her to some of my more exotic machines. During that week I took her shopping for clothing. As a pleasure slave she had been kept naked at all times, so she literally had nothing to wear. As we entered the first boutique, a somewhat older, impeccably- dressed sales manager blocked our entry and said haughtily, "I'm sorry, sir, but we are a respectable establishment. Pleasure slaves are not allowed within our store." Mardina literally shook with fear, but I stared back into the matron's eyes and said in the most steely voice I could muster, "Scan her!" The manager was somewhat taken aback, but grabbed her scanner from her belt and passed it over Mardina's wrist, reading the imbedded ichip. "Oh, she's been freed," she said as the information was transferred to her internal reader. "That makes a difference." She then turned to me and assessed my wealth and standing based on my clothing, haircut, manicure, etc. "However," she said somewhat stiffly, "You may still be in the wrong shop. I am not sure that you are able to afford our product line. We carry only very expensive, ultimate, top- of-the-line apparel." I held up my wrist and said, "Scan me." She looked sightly confused, but complied with my command. As soon as her scanner crossed my wrist, I could hear an alarm sound in the store manager's office. The sales manager's eyes now went wide and her body was the one trembling in fear. "I am so sorry, Mister W," she blubbered out. "I had no idea." As she stammered for what to say, the store manager hurried up behind her. "Is there a problem?" she asked in that artificial I-serve-the-public voice that most store managers learn early in their career. Then in a more natural voice she said, "What brings the owner to this branch?" "Just shopping for a recently-freed pleasure slave," I responded. Then I turned to the sales manager. "I own this and many other business," I said softly, "but I like to remain in the shadows. I prefer that people do not realize who I am nor the extent of my wealth." I raised my arm again and said, "Please re-scan me." The sales manager again passed her scanner over my wrist. Her hands were shaking as she did so. "What does it say now?" I asked. Her voice and her whole body was shaking as she stammered out, "It says you are a Mister Walter Roth. A metal worker." Now it was the manager whose voice was shaking. "That's... that's... that's..." "Impossible?" I completed for her. "Yes, for anyone else in the world, it would be impossible. But I am W. I have invented a thought-controlled switch that can change an ichip between several different identities." I smiled at her. "And I have a reprogramer back at my home which can change the information in any one of those nine different identities. I am showing the level of trust I have in this establishment by revealing my true identity to you." "I will handle this sale," the store manager said firmly, and indicated with her hands that the sales manager should go elsewhere. "She did her job properly," I said softly. "There should be no repercussions for her actions." "Who are you, really?" the store manager asked. Her eyes were filled with wonder, or perhaps fear. "I am W," I replied. "And even if I weren't, I can assure you that the monunits will transfer properly at the end of the sale." She may not have trusted my word, but she did trust my monunits. By the time we left the store, Mardina had two suitcases full of clothing, including two weeks' worth of underwear. I was carrying the suitcases while she carried the two garment bags with her long formal dresses in them. She had chosen to wear a short, pleated miniskirt with matching top, but surprised me by stripping out of it as soon as we were back home. "I hope you don't mind," she said, "but I have gotten used to being naked and it is actually much more comfortable around the house." "You won't get any objections from me," I replied as I set her suitcases on her bed and helped her put her clothes away. Later that day, I introduced her to the prototype of my "mind machine." It looked like a full-body catsuit except that it totally covered the head, including the face and eyes. There was a vented area over the mouth and nose which allowed breathing, and somewhat allowed the person to speak. Within the suit were a variety of microsensors which read the body and mind by picking up the electrical impulses in the brain and nervous system. Special software developed by one of my subsidiary companies could even display those memories or dreams on custom vidscreens. Additional sensor-style arrays acted as electrodes which could return electrical stimuli to the nervous system so that the same memories or dreams that had been read could be re-inserted after certain modifications. We spent a week recording her thoughts and fantasies as the suit mildly stimulated her so that she was sexually aroused. On the third day, when we had finished with the testing, she said, "I can't stand this anymore. Let's see if I can blow its circuits." She then brought her hand down between her legs and began rubbing against the outside of the suit. I hadn't really designed it for that, but evidently it worked OK because she was soon thrusting her hips into the air and moans came out of the vented mouth of the headpiece. When she went into orgasm, she did blow the circuitry, or at least the screen on the monitor went white for several seconds. Just before that blast of white, my face appeared on the monitor. I was much younger and several pounds lighter, but it was definitely me. When I helped her peel the suit off her body, her sweat and the smell of arousal flowed out of the suit. She kept turning her head away as I helped her step out of the legs. "You saw it, didn't you?" she asked. "The white flash when you orgasmed?" I asked in return. "Yes, I saw it." "No," she said, almost angrily. "Just before that. I was thinking of you as I went over the edge." "There is no shame in that," I said. "I freed you. I am the closest male. You were horny." I gave a short laugh, "I would hate to think what fantasy images would be on the screen if that were me in the suit at that point." "It isn't fantasy," she said softly. "I really want to you to make love to me." We somehow didn't get back to testing the suit for another three days. Except for necessary trips to the bathroom and a couple of breaks for meals, we spent the time seeing who could wear the other out. Around noon on the third day we called it a draw and both fell sound asleep until the next morning. Mardina slept in my bed from that day forward. It took many more days of testing to finalize the design of the mind suit. Among other things, I changed the suit itself to a microperf material so that it could breathe. That prevented the buildup of sweat and had the added benefit of allowing others in the room to smell the arousal of the person in the suit. W's Erotic Mind Suit was an almost instant financial success. I gave Mardina co-inventor rights so she received a percentage of the profits. "That way," I explained, "you can return to school when you think the time is right and maybe one day design your city in the sky." She looked very sad when I told her that. "Money won't erase the dreams," she said quietly. I knew that she still had the nightmares. She would often awaken screaming in the middle of the night. I tried to hold her and comfort her, but she would push me away and pull herself into a ball in the corner of the bed trembling and crying. One night, the dreams were so bad that I had to literally wrap her in a sheet and hold her down to keep her from throwing herself off my balcony. The next day, she came to me in my work area and said, "I want to sleep in the suit." "What?" I responded. "I want to sleep in the suit," she repeated. "I want you to record my nightmare. I want you to see what I see." The next night, I set up the monitors and controllers next to our bed and helped Mardina into the suit. I lay down beside her, but I knew that I wouldn't actually be sleeping at least, I thought I wouldn't. Surprisingly, I actually did fall asleep, only to be awakened by Mardina thrashing and moaning as her nightmare assailed her. I scrambled over to the monitor to be sure that it was picking up and recording the dream. What was on the monitor shocked me. Mardina was walking on campus. It was late at night and it appeared that she was headed back to the sorority, possibly from the library. She had often talked about studying late there. Suddenly a hand appeared in front of her face. It was a blur, but I could see that the hand was in a black leather glove and there was a rag of some sort in its palm. The rag was pressed against the front of her face and I could hear her muffled screams in my headphones. Then everything went black. A few moments later the screen cleared. I could see a skirt and a pair of panties lying on the ground. I could also see Mardina's hands. They appeared to be tied to the front of a park bench of some sort. As she wildly tossed her head, I could see flashes of the bench and of her naked body bound over the back of it. She was positioned in the middle of the bench with her hands pulled tight to the front. In the wild flashes as she threw her head from side to side, I could see that her feet were tied to the feet of the bench, causing her legs to be spread out at a very wide angle. I tried to ignore her screams, but I couldn't and I don't think I will ever forget them. She gave an especially loud and shrill scream and the image on the screen suddenly jerked upward, showing a dark street lamp and the leaves of some trees. The image then bounced rhythmically. It was obvious someone was raping her. As her head bounced up and down with the assault, she was also shaking it wildly from side to side while screaming, "No! No! No!" After a few moments, it was over. Her head hung down and she stared at her hands while sobbing violently. A bright flash from the right caught her attention and she lifted her head in that direction. A young man was standing on the path with a vid device of some sort. He raised it to his face once again and it flashed as he took another still. As he lowered the device with his right hand, he reached up with his left hand and blew a kiss to Mardina before turning and running down the path. The campus police arrived moments later. They quickly freed Mardina's hands and feet and checked to see that she was "unharmed." As they began to drape a blanket over her naked body, the screen suddenly went black and she awoke screaming. I stood where I was until she had finally calmed herself and it was safe to approach her. "Let's get you out of that suit," I said softly. "You saw?" she asked. I removed the headpiece before answering, "I saw." "They never caught him," she said flatly. "That's probably why I have the nightmares. I'm afraid he's coming back for me." After I helped her peel the suit off her legs, she sat cross-legged on the bed. "I couldn't really describe him," she said softly. "It happened so fast... and the drug he used to knock me out evidently affected my memory. By the time they talked to me at the hospital, I couldn't remember any details. My memory had been wiped clean." "If the drug had truly wiped your memory," I replied, "you wouldn't have nightmares. I'm not sure what it was, but I think it just inhibited your ability to remember to get to those memories. It didn't remove the memories themselves." I paused while I used a warm cloth to wipe the sweat from her body. "You saw him," I said quietly. She looked up at me with wide open mouth and eyes. "You saw him," I repeated, "and I have an image of his face." I shared the final portion of the video with the authorities. They didn't really believe me, but they still ran the facial recognition algorithms. There was a positive match, and DNA tests confirmed that James Folley was, in fact, the notorious campus rapist who had for so long eluded them. He had been able to avoid capture by the simple fact that he was a government DNA file clerk. His job gave him access to the DNA database, and he had altered his own file so that no DNA matches could be made from his DNA. There were a lot of other things which should have pointed to him, but I guess our police have become so dependent upon being able to know who everyone is by DNA traces left at a crime scene, that they didn't follow up on other leads. The trial was hailed as "The Trial of the Century," not so much because of who James Folley was or what he had done, but rather because for the first time in history, a video record of a person's memory was entered as evidence. It was not the last time. I had to create a whole new division to keep up with the world-wide demand for the suits - or at least specialized head pieces. Eyewitness testimony in video form is now standard evidence for trials. It took the juries a little while to get used to the fact that three different witnesses actually did see three different versions of the same events. But those different versions were still aligned closer than verbal testimony because the recording was often- times made very shortly after the events. In the recordings, the person's memories were not influenced by memory loss or changed by the person analyzing what they thought they should have seen. Then someone in the government actually checked out the original versions of the suits and realized that not only could the full suits read thoughts and memories, they could allow or force someone else to experience those memories. That was when some "expert" decided that the perfect punishment for a criminal would be to force the perpetrator of a crime to experience that crime from the viewpoint of his or her victims. There were three different schools of thought on this. The first said such an approach was bullshit. The second said that just by experiencing the crime as a victim, the criminal would be forever cured of his or her criminal tendencies. The third point of view emphasized that it would be much more economical to subject a criminal to several days, weeks or months of experiencing his or her crime rather than years of incarceration. This alternate incarceration would save the government money and would return a useful citizen to society. Or at least that was the plan. I agreed with the first point of view. Most liberal therapists favored the second. Most politicians and government bureaucrats, meanwhile, agreed with the third. So, it was decided to implement an alternate incarceration program to reform criminals, and more importantly, to save monunits. Like any other proposed government action, they had to talk it to death first. As the inventor of the suits, I was called to one of the hearings. They didn't like what I had to say. I guess pointing out that until they came up with a way of pulling memories out of a dead brain, they wouldn't really have the true viewpoint of all victims. Primarily what they objected too, however, was my insistence that living out the crime from the victim's point of view didn't necessarily equal punishment especially with psychopaths or in the case of sexual crimes. "A true psychopath," I testified, "would not have a normal person's emotional and psychological response. They would externalize the event and observe it like it were happening to others even if it was happening to them." Senator Madison, the main backer of the idea on the panel huffed his disapproval at me so I explained further, "In other words, the experience would become just one more victim for them to enjoy. You would be much better off sticking to something that you know is punishment for that person rather than trying to make them see the world from another person's point of view." I glared at the committee. I figured I might as well tell the whole truth since they were going to disregard me anyway. "Beyond that," I attempted to explain, "you have been clear that you are going to start with sexual crimes. It is my professional experience that what one person experiences as painful, another may find pleasurable. That means that the victim's pain may be the criminal's pleasure. You would be better off computer-generating a totally new memory like being pursued and eaten by a tiger than using a victim's memory of the crime." I could see several of the Senators shaking their heads and making side comments to their aides. The head of the committee thanked me for my input, but it was obvious that they were going to dismiss anything I had to say. My suspicion was confirmed when Senator Madison said with a chuckle, "Luckily for us, our first prisoner is definitely not a psychopath." What he said next filled me with dread. "And thanks to you," he said lightly, "we already have seven recorded victim experiences." He was talking about Mardina's rapist. She came to me for advice. They wanted the agreement of all of the victims to proceed. The other six had given their approval and Mardina wanted to know what I thought. My advice to her was simple. "Don't be the first on anything that could really go sour or turn out the opposite of what you want." I reminded her of a saying I often used, "The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese." I wish she had listened to me. The news yesterday included a story that the first "alternate incarceration" was going to be performed in two weeks. As I waited for her to arrive, I pulled that story back up on my vidfeed and reviewed the details. James Folley's sentence had been "modified to three months of alternate incarceration." I had just finished reading when Mardina rang my door bell. She was dressed in a relatively conservative dress. "I'm interning at an architect's office downtown," she said. She shrugged her shoulders and added, "It fits their dress code. I don't think it would fit the company image if I ran around the office naked." She gave me a big grin before saying, "But their dress code doesn't say anything about underwear." She lifted up the front of the dress to show me her carefully trimmed bush. "Is that going to be your design style?" I asked. "Stately on the outside, but slutty on the inside?" She laughed and answered, "I'll have to consider that. It would be a unique signature design concept." Then she became very serious and said, "But that isn't why I came to see you." "It's about the alternate incarceration, isn't it?" I asked. She nodded her head silently. "Let's sit in the fooprep," I said. "I did some custom programming to the fooport since you lived here and now it can spit out a really great cup of coffee." She looked at me quizzically, so I explained, "The government-mandated maximum for caffeine content is relatively easy override if you have the right hackbots." She gave me a big smile as I handed her a steaming cup of what my grandfather used to call "high octane coffee." I think it was a reference to the fuel once used in transport vehicles. "Having second thoughts?" I asked. "Yes... No... A little... " she replied. "But that's not why I'm here. They have invited all of the victims to the incarceration. They say it will bring us closure. We are supposed to bring our families for support." She looked down at the floor before continuing. "I don't have any family," she said softly. "If I had, maybe I wouldn't have screwed up my life so badly after this happened to me." Looking up, she said plaintively, "You are the closest thing I have to family. Would you come with me?" "If they allow it," I answered. "And if they don't, I think I can apply enough political pressure to change their minds." She threw herself at me and gave me an almost spine-crushing hug. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she said. "Someday I am going to name a city after you!" Standing back a little, she smoothed her dress and said, "But right now, this intern has to get to work on time." She smiled and said, "Bosses and owners can be late. Us lowly peons have to be on time." "It's nice to be the boss," I answered back with a smile. *** Two weeks later Mardina and I were being led down a long hallway at the detention center by a uniformed guard. "This used to be an execution chamber in the old days," she explained as she opened the door. The room looked like the historical images in the museums except rather than having rows of chairs set up on risers where people could sit to witness the executions, the area was divided into seven small cubicles. The front wall of the cubicle was a half wall while the walls separating the squares went all the way to the ceiling. They were open in the back with a small hallway allowing access. We were escorted to the third cubicle, which, I assume, corresponded to Mardina being the third campus rapist victim. All the cubicles had a clear view of the "incarceration chamber." James Folley was already in a specially-modified suit and was strapped to a striker bed that could be rotated to any angle to prevent bed sores. My company hadn't done the modifications to the suit, but the government engineers had checked with us to see how badly it would degrade performance to add systems for the removal of liquid and solid wastes. Liquid waste was taken care of with a simple sleeve catheter that slipped over the penis like a heavy condom. The solid waste was flushed out daily before a special nutritional slurry was pumped back in. He was, after all, going to be on that table for three months. After everyone was seated in the appropriate cubicle, Senator Madison walked to the front of the room and stood in front of the window. "What is happening here today," he began, "is history making. You will witness a criminal actually having to experience the trauma which he inflicted on his victims." A gray-haired man in a white lab coat entered the room and stood beside him. "This is Doctor Harold Winkerson," he said. He will explain what is about to happen. "Thank you, Senator," the doctor replied. He then turned to face the victims and their families. "The crimes will be inserted in Mr Folley's memories in the same order in which they occurred. You may witness just your incident, or all seven. A light will come on in front of you indicating that your episode is next in the rotation. The large blue button turns the monitor on and off. It also activates and deactivates the headphones. There will be a short pause after the seventh episode before it all begins again." He paused to look individually at the seven victims. "If this becomes to difficult for you," he continued, "just press the blue button next to your monitor to shut everything down in your cubicle. The cubicles are designed so that you cannot see or hear what is happening in the other areas. You are free to stay as long as you want and leave whenever you desire. If you wish to return at any time during the 90-day incarceration, just make arrangements with the warden's office." As Doctor Winkerson walked away, Senator Madison smiled happily and said, "The first cycle will begin in three minutes." Mardina looked up and me and said softly, "I want to see the others." "Are you sure?" I asked, but she had already pressed the blue button to activate the monitor so I just sat next to her and put on one of the wireless headphones. As I watched, something didn't seem quite right, so I opened my own vidcomp and connected to the data channel for the suit controller. I wasn't worried about passwords since my personal unit was backdoored into any piece of equipment I produced. I was hoping, however, that they hadn't changed the access protocols themselves. They hadn't, and soon I was streaming the raw data to my screen. Except for a several-second delay, the images seemed to be the same, but the additional data on my screen indicated, "Combined Data Stream." "Shit," I said quietly to myself. Then I said a little more loudly, "Mardina, I have to talk to Doctor Winkerson. I'll be right back." I slipped out of the cubicle and spoke to the guard at the door. She said something into her radio and a moment later the doctor stepped into the room. "What is your concern?" he asked. "You are showing the reflected activity from his brain rather than the injected feed," I said. "Since he already has memories of these events, that will be a combination of both his and the victim's memories." "We are aware of that," he said looking down at me. The tone of his voice and his body language told me he was thinking of me as a bewildered child that he could pat on the head and send back to play in my room. "But it should make no difference," he said smugly. "Maybe the victims won't think the same way," I said firmly. "The Senator and I thought it would be best this way," he said flippantly and turned and left the room. "Asshole," I said quietly. The guard shook her head slowly and said even more quietly, "You have no idea." I went back to the third cubicle. As I sat back down, someone was walking down one of the paths through a different park near the campus. I noticed that two of the streetlights on the path seemed to be out. That was part of his technique. He would choose a seldom-used area and disable the lighting. Then he would wait for a victim to walk through his trap. Whoever it was slowed down and began looking from side to side. It was obvious that she was wary of something. Suddenly the viewpoint changed and we were looking at a petite blond in shorts and a halter top. This was evidently James coming up the path. He was moving rapidly and swaying slightly from side to side. The blond stepped to the side of the trail as he approached. As he passed by there was a skidding noise and he looked down at bicycle handlebars. "Did I hit you?" he asked. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I was just going too fast." "No. you missed me," the blond said. She started to say something else, but his arm came up and a sudden cloud erupted from the canister in his hand. The view switched back to her for just an instant as the liquid and vapor struck her face. Then everything went black. The blackness flickered once or twice and then we were again looking out through James' eyes. He had quickly stripped the blond and positioned her on the ground more or less on her knees and elbows. Short lengths of rope tied her elbows to her knees while another piece of rope bound her wrists and upper arms together. The result looked very uncomfortable and forced her ass high in the air. He pushed a tube against her crack and squeezed out some lube. Then he slapped the top of her ass a couple of times while saying, "Wakey, wakey, or you'll miss the party." He slapped her ass again and said, "It's a pity you won't be able to remember any of this." After a short laugh, he finished with "But I will,"and pushed himself into her ass and began thrusting. The viewpoint went back to the blonde looking down at the dirty, asphalt path. She was screaming and trying to break free of her bonds. The force of his thrusts was causing her face to nearly hit the asphalt of the path. Finally he gave a loud grunt and pushed her hard enough to force her face against the ground. There was a flash as he captured an image or something a moment later and then the bicycle rode past and disappeared down the path. The blond was crying and sobbing and trying to scream for help. Finally another coed came down the path and screamed very loudly. The police arrived shortly after that and the scene slowly faded into darkness. "Did she orgasm?" Mardina asked. It took me a moment to understand her question. "The flash on the screen..." she clarified, "did that mean that she had an orgasm?" "Probably not," I answered, "but he did. You are seeing a mixture of both their memories." "Oh," she answered. It looked like she was going to ask another question, but the screen was now showing a sidewalk in front of one of the older buildings near campus. Again it was night, but all of the streetlights were on. As whoever it was passed a very narrow walkway between two buildings, the sound of a dog whimpering could be heard. The dog wasn't barking, but instead sounded like it was yelping in pain as if it was trapped in something. She looked down the walkway, and near the back of the building there was a small dog it looked like a beagle whose leash was trapped under a dumpster's wheels. It was pulled tight against the ground and seemed to be choking. The walkway got progressively darker as she walked back to see if she could free the dog from its misery. Shortly before she got to the dumpster, the dog suddenly gave a big yelp and pulled itself free. She watched as it ran barking out the other end of the walkway, trailing a length of rope behind it. "I guess its owner will find it eventually," she said to herself as she turned to go back to the main sidewalk. She gasped suddenly as a black glove appeared in front of her face and a rag was pressed against her mouth. We watched through James' eyes as he stripped her and bound her over a length of pipe railing which protected some gas meters. Her feet were tied to the upright posts while her hands were stretched down and tied to the large gas pipes themselves. He evidently stepped back for a moment and then reached forward with his tube of lube. He positioned himself against her asshole and then reached forward with a small spray can of some sort in his hand. He squirted it toward her face and suddenly we were again seeing things through her eyes. She could see nothing but the gas meters as he drove into her ass. Like the others, she screamed loudly as he pushed his way into her bowels. He began to grunt and we were looking down at her naked back. There was a bright flash and for just an instant we could see her face. The image was distorted slightly, but it looked as if she were, indeed, having an orgasm. I looked over at Mardina, but said nothing. A little while later, things faded as the police arrived on the scene. Evidently the good doctor was using that as the end of each memory. Mardina was now very tense. She had seen her own memory before several times, but each time it had been an emotional experience. Now she was watching it knowing that others in the room were also seeing her ordeal. The screen brightened slightly and showed the path through the woods. I also had seen this several times, so I was paying attention to what was Mardina's memory and what was that of her rapist. We could tell that he had hidden behind the large oak tree near the park bench. That was obviously his memory. Things proceeded as I had seen before up until she was tied over the bench. Then, in addition to the glimpses of her body as she tossed her head from side to side, we also had a clear view of her ass from behind. "That's not me," Mardina said softly. "It's OK," I said, trying to reassure her. "No," she said, "that isn't my body. I've seen enough videos of myself from when I was a pleasure slave to know what my ass looks like from behind. That isn't my body." "Memories are never totally accurate," I said. Again I was trying to reassure her, but I started paying more attention to the details of her body as James had remembered it. It wasn't her. Even in the dim light I could see that the hair was the wrong color. And the shape of her ass was wrong. The hips were way too small and the asscheeks were much less supple. In fact, the overall shape of her body was not right. I began wondering if there were not another, unknown victim who had been assaulted in the same spot as Mardina had been. One thing confused me about this only one? Despite the differences, the actions of the person tied to the bench corresponded to Mardina's in her memory. If the actions were the same, it had to be the same event. Why then was James remembering her so incorrectly? I began to pay very close attention to the differences between what we were watching and Mardina's original dream. Everything was the same except the size and shape of Mardina's body. Then the scene finally got to the point where James had ejaculated in her ass. Just before that occurred, there was a very quick view of her face. Like the other two girls, the face was distorted. Then a very short, very bright flash showed across the screen. "I did NOT orgasm," she said angrily. "No, you didn't," I replied immediately. "He did. This is a mixed memory. That flash was much shorter than when you orgasmed in the suit. It was a male orgasm, not a female's." "Oh," she said quietly, "he got off raping me." "I think it is more complex than that," I said lightly touching her hand. She didn't pull her hand away so I took both her hands in mine so that I could look at her face to face. "If you want to stay to watch the others," I said, "I will stay with you." I gave her half a smile and added, "If you want to leave, that is OK too. I need to stay to watch the other memories. There is something going on here that is very important and I need to be sure before I say something to Doctor Frankenstein and Senator Blowhard." She smiled at my derision of the pompous senator. "I think I am going to leave," she said firmly. Then she smiled again and said, "This really has done nothing for me. I stopped having the nightmares as soon as I was able to watch my memories. The nightmares were my mind trying to tell me what had happened. I know now. And the rapist is caught. I can sleep at night." "I promise that I will explain everything once I am sure of what is going on," I said. Then I asked, "Can you stop by my place for breakfast tomorrow morning? I will explain everything then." "My boss told me to take the morning off," she said, looking down slightly. "He thought I might be emotionally drained after today." "Are you?" "Not really," she replied. "But now I am wondering how many other sickos there are out there like James." "There might be a lot of them," I said. "But none of the other sickos work in the DNA database offices... or at least they haven't been able to modify their own files," I added with a chuckle. "That means that they will get caught after the first time." She started to say something, but I held up my finger and said, "And in case you are worried that others might have copied Folley's example, after this case, they retested all employees with access to the databases. No other files had been tampered with, and there are now three copies of all files kept is separate databases." Her face became very serious and she looked me in the eyes as she asked, "Do you really think this alternate incarceration will do anything?" I took a deep breath before answering, "I think that James Folley will be the only one to ever be subject to this type of alternate incarceration. They might come up with other ways to use the suits, but if I am right, this will end here." "Does that mean that James Folley will go free without being punished?" she said. I could see tears welling up in her eyes. "I think he will be punished," I said as I tilted her head back up so she was looking at me. "It just won't be what Doctor Frankenstein and Senator Blowhard think it is going to be." I gave her a quick peck of a kiss on the forehead and said, "Go do what you have to do today. I will fill you in on everything tomorrow morning." "OK," she answered as she turned and left the witness area. By the time she had gone, the scene for the fourth victim had nearly reached the final moments. What I needed to see was just before the end, so that was fine with me. Besides, my vidcomp was recording the data stream and, if necessary, I could replay what I wanted. When the fifth episode began, I could see that the victim was actually tied to the same bench in the park as Mardina had been. About the only difference was that he used black nylon rope rather than the white cotton he had used on Mardina. I had never met the fifth victim, but looking at her naked body, I knew that the ass was wrong. The whole body was wrong. James wasn't remembering her and I knew why. He was remembering who he was fantasizing about when he raped her. I waited patiently through the sixth and seventh victims' episodes. The sixth had been tied down over a children's merry-go-round, the seventh over a low fence. Other than that, the rapes were nearly identical and made even more so by the overlaying of James' fantasy of what was occurring. As the cycle returned to the first victim, I found myself alone in the witness cubicles. I was just about to ask the guard where I could find Doctor Winkerson when he and Senator Madison walked into the room. The Senator was beaming with pride as he said, "What do you think about my ideas now, Mister W?" He laughed loudly as he added, "All of your fear-mongering was for nothing. Today has shown itself to be a perfect example of government innovation at its best." Now it was my turn to laugh, but my voice quickly turned very serious as I addressed the doctor in his crisp, white coat. "It is indeed a perfect example... of why this should never be done again." "What do you mean?" he sputtered. "Did you watch the data stream?" I asked. "I mean really watch the data stream? Did you compare the combined stream to the original memories from the victims?" Senator Madison looked very confused. Doctor Winkerson looked alarmed and defensive. "Let me ask you a couple of question Doctor," I began. "Why do you suppose that James Folley never actually harmed any of his victims I mean besides the fact that he forced himself upon them? Rape is almost always about power, not sex. The act is usually forceful and physically harmful, but James used the least violent means possible and inflicted nothing upon his victims but himself." The good doctor now looked as confused as Senator Blowhard. "And why was it that in his memories, the body of the victim was distorted in each of the episodes? Why are the hips too narrow... the ass cheeks too small... the faces... well, the faces at the point of ejaculation are the same in all seven scenes. Why is that?" I dropped my voice slightly. I have a habit of doing that when I want to emphasize something. "Why did he take them in the ass and do nothing with their cunts? And perhaps most importantly, why is there a short white flash which bursts over the image not at the point of ejaculation, which you can tell by James' groan, but a moment later as if the girl were responding to the climax of her partner?" Doctor Winkerson's face no longer showed confusion. It showed shock. "That can't be... that would mean... it would mean... oh God, how could we have not considered that?" "What is going on?" thundered Senator Madison. "Your pet psychiatrist can fill in the details for you later," I replied forcefully. "But what it means is that you screwed up. ... And if you attempt to repeat this fiasco, I will make sure that the entire world knows exactly how and how badly you messed this up." "But this was successful!" the Senator nearly screamed. "Was it, Doctor Winkerson?" I asked. He didn't respond, but instead just looked at the Senator with wide eyes and a wide open mouth. "What your pet doctor will tell you when he recovers his voice is that James Folley wasn't living out a fantasy of raping young, college coeds. He was far sicker than that. He was living out a fantasy of being raped himself." Doctor Winkerson finally found his voice. "It's true," he said just above a whisper. "The data stream shows that James is getting sexual pleasure out of being raped." "Congratulations, Senator," I said with a sneer. "You were very successful. You just sentenced a rapist to ninety days of almost continuous orgasms. That may, in fact, be a very severe punishment, but I doubt the public will see it that way." As I pushed past them to reach the door, I added, "Alternate incarceration is a failure. And if you ever attempt this again, I will make sure the world knows exactly why it was a failure... and who is responsible." *** When I got back to my apartment, Mardina was waiting for me. "I don't have to get up early in the morning," she said. "And I figured if I was already here, we would have more time to talk." I fixed us some steaks for supper. Afterwards, we sat on the balcony and I explained everything to her. In the morning I awoke with her cuddled up to me in my bed. She had slept peacefully all night. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Slowly, Slowly By the Technician Self-bondage, F/solo, Teasing, Orgasm Denial = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A rich young housewife buys the ultimate sex toy, The Teasinator = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2013 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Marsha was happily married. Earl was a good husband and an excellent father. Financially, they were more than comfortable in their lives together. They weren't the one percent, but they were in the top ten. And yet, Marsha was not content. There was something missing. And it was missing in their sex life. Earl was.... too fast. He wasn't a two-minute wonder. Nor was he a "Wham, bam, thank you ma'am" kind of lover. He would often spend at least half an hour in foreplay, lightly stroking her back and legs and thighs and breasts. Sometimes he would suckle lightly on her breasts before making circles around her clit with either with his fingers or with his tongue. And then when he entered her, he could regularly sustain himself for ten or fifteen minutes. Often she would climax long before him and would be driven into a second orgasm before he finally came. Most women would say that Earl was a nearly perfect lover who could drive them to the heights of passion and bring multiple orgasms from their body. But for Marsha, the most intense pleasure was not the orgasm itself, but the anticipation. It was that time just before the volcano erupted that she coveted. And Earl - or perhaps she herself - went through that precious moment entirely too fast. That is what she wanted stretched out. That is what she wanted to make last. She wanted to be held just on the edge of orgasm for as long as possible. And Earl didn't do that. Maybe he didn't understand. Maybe it wasn't possible for him. Maybe it wasn't possible for her. Marsha had many times tried using a vibrator to take herself to almost that peak. She could easily bring herself off with her little friend. She could even keep herself right on the edge for an extended period of time, but when she did, it wasn't the same. Maybe teasing yourself at the edge of orgasm was impossible to truly do to yourself - like trying to tickle yourself. Maybe someone else had to be in control in order for the pure pleasure of that extended fleeting moment to be realized. In desperation, Marsha turned to teasing stories from the internet. One thing she noticed immediately, was that in all of the teasing stories, the woman being held on the edge of orgasm, was also being held in bondage. She brought up the subject of light bondage with Earl, but he could not imagine restraining someone, even if they wanted it. So Marsha dropped the subject and began reading solo female / self-bondage stories. The problem with most of them was that the women depicted either gained most of their satisfaction from the bondage itself or from the intense orgasms which were forced upon them. Sometimes they just got off on the pain or humiliation that would result from discovery. Although all of that made Marsha very wet and horny, her real quest was for an extended period of restraint of her orgasm, not her body. And then the ads began to pop up on her browser and emails began arriving in her "special account." She had known enough to create a special user on her computer that was separate from everything else and a special email and browser account that was not connected in any way to any of their family accounts. She knew that the electronic gnomes of the internet know where you go and what you read, yet she was still surprised at the quantity of ads for adult toys and bondage sites and bondage equipment that arrived. They were sometimes comical and ridiculous, but she read them anyway. She read each and every ad and popup that came to her, including those in her spam filter. She deleted almost every one of them immediately, but one day an email with the title "Teasinator" caught her attention. It was advertizing an electronic device called The Teasinator that was "guaranteed to keep her hot, horny, and on the edge for hours at a time." Marsha went immediately to the website. The device was expensive... VERY expensive. It included a control box, vaginal and anal dildos, nipple stimulators, some sort of clitoral clip, and several "negative reinforcement pads" that were shown applied to the underside of the breasts, the insides of the thighs, on the abdomen, and on both buttocks. She wasn't sure how The Teasinator worked, but she knew that she wanted it. Earl kept a very strict budget book and every penny had to be accounted for. Early in their marriage, that had caused tension, and so he had allocated to Marsha a "mad money" account. A certain amount each month went into that account and Marsha could do whatever she wanted with it. As Earl's income had grown, so had the amount that was in her mad money account. Marsha probably could have bought a decent car with cash from the account, so she had more than enough cash to play with. The account was linked to PayPal, so there was no problem ordering the device on line. But then Marsha thought, "I will still be in control. If I want to stop it, all I have to do is turn it off." That thought took her back out to the bondage websites, especially the self-bondage equipment. Soon packages of timers and restraints and automatic releases started arriving at their home. Many women would have torn open the packages immediately and started experimenting, but Marsha, after all, was seeking restraint and delay, and so she carefully stored away each piece of equipment until she knew that she had everything in place. The final thing needed was not a piece of equipment, but a place for her to put herself into the desired bondage and experience the full effects of the Teasinator. And the perfect place was in her own back yard. The previous owner had built a sauna building a little ways from the house in the spacious area behind it. The sauna itself had been only about twelve feet square, but the building that housed it was closer to twenty feet on a side. And because the winters where Marsha lived could get very cold, the sauna building was very heavily insulated and sealed against moisture. Something had gone wrong with the sauna and it had nearly caught fire, so the previous owner had removed it with the intention of rebuilding it. He had, however, moved away before that was done. So what stood in that back yard was an unused, totally isolated room that was effectively soundproofed. As soon as Marsha thought of using "The Hot Shed," as her husband called it, she ran out to the back yard to check it out. It was basically empty, except for a few left over pieces of the old sauna. When she closed the door, she was plunged into total darkness. "Perfect," she said as she fumbled to find the door latch in the disorientation of absolute darkness. That night at supper, she told Earl that she wanted to tone up her body and mind with "Isolation Yoga." He had never heard of it, but if he had looked it up on the internet, he would have found that it was basic Yoga, except it was practiced in near sensory depravation conditions - like the hot shed. "What do you need?" he asked. "It will only take a little fixing up," Marsha answered. "And then just some pads, mirrors, and various attachment points on the walls and ceilings for the training bars and so forth." "How much?" was Earl's next question. "Less than diamond earrings," was Marsha's answer, "but with the same rewards." Many years ago, Earl had once joked that the only reason that a man buys diamonds for his wife is so she will give him a blow job. On her next birthday, he gave Marsha a pair of diamond earrings. He had forgotten all about the joke until that night when Marsha, for the first time in their marriage, gave him excellent oral sex. They had kept up the joke whenever Earl gave her diamonds. Actually, it was getting to the point where he wasn't sure whether he gave her diamonds because he loved her and could afford to, or because he would get his cock sucked dry that night. In any case, Marsha's estimate of the costs was sufficient for Earl and he told her to call a contractor to do the work she wanted. A few weeks later the "Yoga Shed," as she now called it, was ready. There were three levels to the floor. At the door and along that wall and the adjoining wall to the left, coming out four feet, the floor was carpeted. It then stepped up to a two inch pad that continued another eight feet to a heavily padded platform in the corner that was about two feet off the floor. The final platform was approximately eight feet square and looked very much like a bed. When Marsha showed the completed room to Earl, he said that the corner platform looked a lot like a bed, to which she answered, "It is for drifting in the nirvana of isolation and finding your center." When he asked about the many eyebolts which seemed to protrude from the walls, ceiling, and even, in some places, the floors, she explained that they were needed to support the bars and other aids to gaining flexibility. Earl seemed a little hesitant about the whole project, but when Marsha suggested that they could use the platform so that she could give him his diamond reward, he decided it was just one more thing that he could live with if it made her happy. It took three more weeks to get all of the equipment in place. That Marsha did entirely on her own. The various restraint equipment was relatively easy to set up. The Teasinator had the capability to control "restraint systems" as it called them, and had even recommended suppliers for electronically controlled cuffs, spreader bars, and lifting winches. Marsha carefully assembled her system. With the help of the Teasinator control screen, she tested and re-tested each restraint and dildo. It felt funny to hold the vaginal device while it vibrated and wiggled in her hands. The anal device did not wiggle, but instead grew longer and shorter as it vibrated. She thought she could feel something when she held the black pads that were supposed to be beneath her breast and on her upper thighs, but she wasn't sure. Maybe they had to actually be in place for everything to work properly. She would find out the first time she used them. Everything was ready. All she had to do was wait for an opportunity when she could be out in the Yoga Shed for an extended period of time. Since waiting was what it was all about, the delay became a part of the game she was playing with herself. Twice each day, she would walk out to the Yoga shed dressed in her white top and white Yoga pants to do a half-hour Yoga routine. She knew that in the bright sunlight, it was almost as if she were naked..., and she knew that the neighbor's high school son was watching her most of the time. Once she even did a Yoga stretch, bending down to grab her wide-spread ankles while making sure her ass was aimed at his window. She lowered her head almost to the ground several times, each time looking back between her legs at the second floor window with the curtain pulled slightly to the side. Finally the opportunity came. Earl was going out of town on business for three days. As soon as he went out the front door to leave for the airport, Marsha went out the back door to the Yoga shed. She carefully laid out the restraints and by early afternoon everything was in place. For her first session, she chose to be spread eagle on the platform. First she inserted the vaginal dildo. She wanted to do that first so she could feel it inside her as she prepared everything else. She had planned on placing the anal dildo last, but once she felt the fullness of the device in her pussy, she decided to also fill her nether regions. The anal device did not go into place quite as smoothly as the pussy device. She had to grunt and push a couple of times to force it in. Next came the strange nipple clamps. They weren't really clamps, but were more like little hats that sat over her nipples and squeezed slightly to hold themselves in place. The two black squares went on the underside of her breasts. She still wasn't sure what they were for. Likewise black squares went on her inner thighs just short of where her legs met her crotch and on her abdomen just below her navel. She opened the package for the two squares to apply to her asscheeks and found that there were four, not two in the bag. There was also a small slip of paper with instructions that indicated it was two patches on each cheek. Wires connected to everything, and once everything was connected she turned on the controller. As expected, Teasinator asked, "Is this a test or a session?" "Session" "Do you wish to test the devices before beginning the session?" "Yes." The dildo in her cunt began vibrating and rapidly ran from very slow to very fast, and then from very soft to very strong. It quit vibrating and began wiggling. Again it varied from slowly to fast and from very little movement to nearly bending in half. When it stopped Teasinator asked, "Did device function satisfactorily?" Marsha had to catch her breath before she answered, "Yes, quite satisfactorily." Teasinator then stepped through each of the devices. After each it asked if the device functioned satisfactorily. When tested, the little caps on her nipples, they varied from feeling like they were sucking on her to like they were pinching her tightly. She thought she even felt a slight shock. When asked if they had worked properly she replied, "I think so." She gave the same answer after the pads tingled her skin and then popped her with a sufficient shock to cause her to yelp. Finally the machine said, "Test completed. Please verify or change setup." Marsha wasn't totally sure what to do at this point, but it then asked "Intensity?" Marsha bit her lip while she paused and then answered "High... no, Extreme." "Duration?" "Random," Marsha answered. After all, the whole purpose was to not know how long the teasing would continue. "Delay?" "Random." "Cycles?" "Random." "Maximum Total Duration?" Now Marsha wasn't sure what to answer. She knew Earl was going to be home in three days - actually Wednesday evening around 6:00. While she was debating with herself, she suddenly found herself blurting out, "Wednesday, 5:00 pm." The machine answered with "Calculating Maximum Total Duration." There was a slight pause and the voice said, "Entered." Then Teasinator asked a question that she didn't remember seeing in the manual. "Allow Internet Observation?" She did remember something about the company keeping track of how the machines performed. A lot of companies collected data like that so they could improve their product. She answered, "Yeah, OK." "Allow internet override?" Again, she wasn't sure what that meant, but answered, "Yeah, OK." "Allow training mode?" Now she really didn't know what to answer, and she was absolutely sure that was not in the manual. But since this would be her first time, she assumed it had something to do with being a first time user and answered, "Yes, I guess." "Final question," Teasinator said in its mechanical voice, "Notify designated contact of the session?" "Yes, of course," she answered. She really didn't want Earl to know what she was doing, but if something went wrong, he was the logical person to call for help. In case of a serious problem, the system would send an email and text message to the safety backup one hour after the session was supposed to end. This was an off-site safety protocol, and not a part of the machine, so nothing that happened to the machine could prevent sending out a safety alert message. Teasinator notified the web controller before it started a session. If the unit did not notify the safety system that the session had completed successfully, or if Marsha had not called a certain phone number by a ceratin time, the web-based safety would send out the alert emails and text messages to the listed safety contacts. If response was not received within five hours, then the program would trigger human intervention who would intervene or summon the proper authorities or whatever. It was a nearly fail-safe backup system. "Beginning session," said the mechanical voice and the arm and leg restraints began to tighten, pulling Marsha into a classic spread eagle position on the bed. It was a little tighter and more widely spread than she would have done herself, but it wasn't unbearable. She had told the machine to decide how long a delay before beginning and how long to actively tease her before letting her reach orgasm. She pulled slightly against her bonds to test them, but all she could do was wiggle a little on the bed. She let out a deep sigh. Nothing to do but wait. Then everything went black. At first she began to panic, but then she could see the slight glow of Teasinator's control panel illuminating the floor alongside the bed. That's right, she remembered. It controls the lights..., and the heat..., and the air conditioning..., and me. Looking at the slight glow beneath her, she thought, "Next time I will have to put something over that panel so things will be totally dark." Then the glow went out. "Teasinator thinks of everything," she said aloud. Lying in the total darkness seeing nothing, hearing nothing, aware only of the slight pressure of the soft padding against her back and the pull of the restraints on her arms and legs, Marsha had no idea how much time passed before she felt a very slight movement within her. The movement was soon accompanied by a slight vibration from within her ass, and then more movement in her cunt. Vibration slowly started building both in front and in back. Lips nibbled at her breasts - no that couldn't be. Was someone in here with her? Then a pinch on her nipples and she realized that those funny little hats were very, very realistic when you couldn't see them. Something was thrusting into her ass... very, very slowly. "My God!" she screamed out. It was as if there were two men within her, each moving very slowly and very slowly gaining speed with each thrust. Then the hands began. "Hands?!" Marsha almost screamed aloud before she realized that it must be the electrical sensations from the black pads. Concentrating on the sensations, she realized that the pads seemed to work in pairs. Sometimes it was one on her breast and one on her ass, and sometimes one on her thigh and one on her lower abdomen. Sometimes it was the pairs together. When the pair on her upper thighs activated strongly together, it caused the muscles of her cunt to almost expel the dildo. No wonder the instructions specified the leather, thong-like harness to hold everything in place. She was rapidly building toward an orgasm. "This is faster than Earl," she thought to herself. And then said aloud amidst her pants and groans, "Technology disappoints me once again." But the technology was not going to disappoint her. The cumulative effect of being bound, waiting in the darkness for the session to begin, and the exquisite stimulation provided by the programming had rapidly taken her to the edge of the mountain, but Teasinator was not going to let her go over the peak. Instead, just as she was about to orgasm, all sensation stopped. "Nooooo!" she screamed out. She had wanted to be teased. She had wanted to prolong that magic moment just before release. She had spent all of this time and money and research to get just to this point, but her body did not care. She was RIGHT THERE. She wanted to cum. She needed to cum. She cried out uselessly to the machine, "Please, please, please, let me cum!" And in response the slight movement began once again deep in her cunt. And then vibrations. And then the thrusting within her ass. Lips kissed her nipples. Hands lightly stroked her asscheeks. Closer, closer, closer... and then nothing! She sobbed out her need to cum. She begged the darkness to fuck her. She screamed for anyone to come and do anything to her, if they would only give her that extra little stimulation she needed so that she could cum. The air began to get cold in the room. Marsha could feel the chill of the air conditioning blowing across her skin. And then a twinge of electrical stimulation between her legs..., and then on her breasts..., and then on her ass..., and on her abdomen. Soon all of the pads were activating almost continuously. Occasionally, the pulses would be sharp and intense. Normally such a pulse would have been very painful, but in her lust soaked state, they merely added to the pleasure that was keeping her just short of the bliss her body so desired. Her vocal responses were reduced to animalistic grunts and growls. Her body was arched high above the bed as she thrust herself forward in the darkness trying to force some unseen lover deeper into her cunt. For a moment, she almost believed that she had been successful as the vaginal dildo began to squirm and wiggle within her. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" she grunted as she drove herself onto his imaginary manhood. But the "Yes!" quickly turned to "Noooooooooo!" when all sensation stopped once again. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no," she sobbed. "I need to cum! I need it! Please, let me cum!" But Teasinator merely ran it programs and hummed softly as its fans cooled its computer processor. Marsha waited for the cycle to begin again. Maybe this time she could fool the machine and get herself off before it removed stimulation. But no cycle started. No wiggle, no tickle, no vibration, nothing. As her body slowly came down from her sexual high, she started crying for real. Going too rapidly through that magic moment to actual orgasm had been unsatisfying, but reaching it, and staying there and not reaching orgasm was practically torture. Her body throbbed with desire and need. If her hands were free she would have shoved them both into her cunt and taken herself over the top. But her hands were not free. She was bound spread eagled in the darkness and Teasinator was in control. Now that she was not being driven out of her mind with sexual stimulation, she began to notice that the room was actually very cold. She could feel goose bumps on her skin and her nipples were pushing upward on the little clips or hats or suction cups or whatever they were. She began to shiver slightly. The coolness of the room and the darkness and the absolute lack of any stimulation had driven all excitement from her body. Now she was just cold and uncomfortable. She tried to figure out how much time had passed, but all she knew for sure was that Teasinator had taken her to the brink of orgasm and held her there for a VERY long time. Somehow it knew when she was just about to orgasm and backed away so she was left hanging. It also knew when she was about to drop down out of that place just before orgasm and tweaked and tantalized until she was right back up on the edge - only to leave her tottering there unable to jump from the brink. "How many times? How many times?" she asked herself. She truly wasn't sure. Maybe it was ten, but it could have been twenty or even thirty. Her fogged memories were too unclear. She pulled at the restraints, expecting them to open and release her. When they did not, she once again had a moment of panic, but then remembered the mechanical voice had asked for a number of cycles. She had answered, "Random," which meant The Teasinator, not she was going to say when this was over. Something changed. Marsha wasn't sure what it was, but something changed in the room. She looked around in the blackness trying to figure out what her senses were telling her. Something had changed in the room. "At least I quit shivering," she thought to herself, and then exclaimed out loud, "That's it!" The air conditioning had turned off and the air blowing over her body was now warm. The heat was on. Marsha relaxed back into the padding and let her mind and body drift in the warm breeze. But the Yoga Shed was a small, sealed building and it didn't take long for the furnace to raise the temperature in the room well past a comfortable level. Marsha could feel perspiration forming on her stomach and her legs. She shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable as sweat trickled down between her legs and dribbled past the dildo which was held in her ass by the between-cheek string on the leather thong. And then it began again. This time it started with the anal device expanding and contracting in her ass. It felt like someone was fucking her in the ass, except that it moved in both directions at once, pushing back against her anal sphincter while at the same time pushing further into her colon. The sensations were slowly, very slowly taking her back up the mountain of passion. Well past half-way up toward the peak, the vaginal worm started its wiggling dance. Still there was no vibration, but the sensations of movement were taking Marsha quickly to the pant and moan stage of arousal. She found that she was grunting out a loud "ahh," each time the bend of the vaginal worm and the thrust of the anal device corresponded. Then the vibrations began. Grunts became screams, and moans became begging cries as Teasinator pushed her ever upward on the road to release. This time she truly thought she would be allowed to cum. She was close, very close..., much closer that she had been in any of the previous times. She was almost there. She opened her mouth to scream out the release of her orgasm. But the scream the came out was not a scream of release. It was a scream of pain. All five pairs of pads suddenly jolted her with an extreme dose of electricity. Her sweaty skin made the shock even more intense and she threw back her head and yelled out "Aiiiiieee!" in pain. Then silence. No motion. No vibrations. No electrical stimulation. Just the silent darkness surrounding her. Marsha's breath had just finally returned to normal when she felt the anal device once again began to stretch and contract. "No," she said aloud. "No, don't do this to me!" But Teasinator had the heart and soul of a machine, and it ignored her pleas as the wiggling dildo in her cunt added to the sensations. "No, no, no, NO!" she was pleading when the vibrations began. Despite the protests of her mind, her body was being forced once again to the peak of Mount Passion and she was being pushed to the very edge of the cliff. Teasinator's mechanical voice suddenly broke the silence and said, "Maintain control of your body or you will be punished." "What?" Marsha panted. "If you start to cum, I stop it," answered the machine. Somehow the mechanical voice seemed to have taken on a diabolical overtone as it said that. The movement of the two dildos and the vibrations continued. Marsha willed her body not to cum. She was standing on the edge. Her feet were slipping. She was falling. She could not help herself. The big O wave of pleasure started to crest over her body, but the waters of orgasm never reached her. This time the shocks were even more severe, and in addition to the five sets of black pads, the nipple caps joined in the electrical torture. Had not the Yoga Shed been effectively sound proof, neighbors blocks away would have heard Marsha's scream. Back to the darkness and silence.... Then the movement... Then the vibrations... Again, Teasinator's diabolical mechanical voice warned, "If you start to cum, I stop it." This time Marsha was able to hold back. She was at the edge. She was on the top of Passion Mountain, but she was holding back her cum. She began to moan in extreme pleasure. This was the place she had been trying to attain. This was her magic moment. She was right on the very edge of orgasm and was staying there. And then the nipple devices began to suckle. "No, no, no," she moaned as sensations overwhelmed her and she began to slide over the edge. "Wham!" the shocks slammed her back to the base of the mountain. She lay in the silence for several minutes and once again the cycle started over in exactly the same sequence as before. This time, even when the nipple devices began suckling she was able to stay just slightly back from the edge. But the edges of the cliffs on Mount Passion are covered in loose stones and very slippery. After several minutes of intense stimulation, she once again found herself sliding toward that edge. She felt herself begin to loose control and start over the edge and once again the intense electrical shocks slammed her back to the very base of the mountain. Teasinator spoke from the darkness. "Training mode cycle nearly complete. This time you may cum when I give permission. If you do not hold out until then, the training mode cycle will repeat." "This is the training mode," she thought to herself. "Would I have allowed this if I knew what it was?" she asked herself. "You bet your ass I would!" she answered out loud. Still aloud she said, "This machine can train me to stay on top as long as I want." This time, when the expansion of the anal device told her that a cycle was beginning, she relaxed against the padding and softly moaned, "Yes," as she anticipated going to the top of Mount Passion and staying there. This time, she clung tightly to the precipice and did not allow herself to go over the edge. Teasinator added more and more stimulation that pushed her closer and closer to the brink, but she did not let go. After five minutes - or was it a half hour - her grunts and moans finally merged together until she was yelling out one continuous long and drawn out "Aaaaarrrrggghhh." Finally, when she thought that she could stand no more, the mechanical voice said simply, "You may cum." Marsha did not drop off the cliff from Mount Passion. She soared into the sky. If she had not been restrained on the bed, she surely would have thrown herself onto the floor - or perhaps the ceiling - as she wailed and cried and thrashed in the greatest orgasm she had ever experienced in her life. She lay panting in the darkness. The padding beneath her was drenched in her sweat. The area between her legs was sopping. She must have peed herself when she lost control, or perhaps her cunt had just flowed with that much love juice as she was being teased and held at the very edge of climax. "Yes!" she said aloud accompanied by a deep exhalation of breath. "Yes!" she repeated. "This is what I have been looking for. Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! YES!" Then she felt the wiggle of the dildo in her vagina. "No," she said. "No, I don't think I can stand this again." But Teasinator did not listen and began applying vibration to match the movement in her cunt and in her ass. Suddenly a moment of clarity came to Marsha's lust-fogged mind. A command that she had read in the manual and immediately forgotten. "T-Control," she said firmly. "Time and Status." "Tuesday, 21:14 hours," came the mechanical reply. "God!" she thought. "It's 9:00 o'clock on Tuesday evening! How could that be!" The voice continued, "Five cycles completed. Two cycles remaining." Marsha said aloud, " I only remember three cycles!" Then she said, "Two more cycles and then freedom. I can do this." "Remember," said Teasinator's flat voice, "If you cum you will be punished severely." "I hope the previous punishments weren't gently," she thought. "But it doesn't matter because I can hold out." And she did. Despite what seemed like hours of teasing and torment from the Teasinator that kept her on the very edge of orgasm, Marsha did not climax. She screamed and yelled and begged to be allowed to cum, but she did not climax. After some unknown time, she was reduced to a whimpering, quivering, lust-filled woman who was thrusting her cunt violently into the air and begging to be fucked by someone..., anyone..., anything! Her ability to hold back was slipping. The orgasm she desired, but dared not let happen was just over the next hill. Then everything stopped. She continued to cry and whimper and thrust her cunt into the air for many minutes after Teasinator shut down. Her cries of "Please let me cum!" were ignored as the unit sat silent in the darkness. Now drenched in sweat and nearing exhaustion, Marsha again gave the command "T-.Control, Time and Status." The mechanical voice responded, "Wednesday, 01:23 hours. "Six cycles completed. One cycle remaining." "One more cycle," she thought to herself, and then she began to drift off to sleep. She wasn't sure how long she slept, but she was awakened by the movement of the dildos in her cunt and ass. Evidently Teasinator was well into the cycle because her body was already bucking and thrashing in the restraints. "T-Control, Time and Status." she managed to cry out between pants and moans. "Wednesday, 07:30 hours." it responded. "Six cycles complete. Twenty percent through last cycle." "I will really need to take a long bath before Earl gets home," she said aloud. She started to say something else, but her comment was cut off as the nipple caps began pinching and suckling at the same time. She flew with the passion and let it take her as high as she dared. She was nearing the top of the mountain again. She knew that the program was supposed to let her orgasm on the final cycle and she pushed herself upward toward that goal. She was at the very, very edge and waiting expectantly for the mechanical voice to say, "You may cum." Finally, Teasinator spoke, but it was not the command she was waiting for. Instead it said simply, "Internet override initiated. Cycle extended indefinitely." "What?" she yelled aloud. "What do you mean, Indefinitely'?" Naturally, Teasinator did not answer. What it did was to begin to add pulses to the other stimulation which was already overloading Marsha's senses. And it did not stop or pull back as she came to the edge. It pushed her to the very, very edge, and when she could no longer hold herself back, it release lightning through the black pads and through the dildos that drove her back down to the base of Passion Mountain. "How in the hell did it do that?" she asked aloud. "It zapped me INSIDE my ass and pussy!" Then it began again. This time it did not start slowly, but came to full movement and vibration almost immediately. Her nipples felt the suckling motion of the nipple caps and electrical pulses that felt like human hands flowed randomly between the black pads. Soon she was once more screaming at the edge of the cliff. And once again she was struck by the blast of lightning that threw her all the way back down the mountain. After this had repeated twice more, she managed to call out between cycles, "T-Control, Time and Status." "Wednesday, 14:20 hours," it responded. Then it added, "On internet override." "Nooooooooooo," Marsha wailed aloud. Earl was scheduled to be home at 6:00. It was now almost 4:30. She would still be trapped here when he got home. She had to get loose somehow. She thrashed wildly against her restraints, but was too solidly restrained to escape. The vibrations and movement began again. This time they were very soft and did not increase in intensity. Normally, such a low level would have had very little effect on Marsha, but in her overly aroused and teased state, the minor stimulation was enough to move her a long way up Mount Passion. She was nowhere near climax, but was forced into and held in a state of very high arousal. "T-Control, Time and Status." she yelled. "Wednesday, 17:30 hours. On internet override." "No!" she yelled. Earl would be home in half an hour. He couldn't find her like this. "No! No! No! No! No! No! No!" she yelled, but Teasinator's response was to increase the vibration and wiggle in her cunt dildo. "No! No! No! No! No! No! No!" She continued to wail as the anal device expanded and contracted rapidly within her. "No! No! No! No! No! No! No!" As the little hats nibbled at her nipples. "No! No! No! No! No! No! No!" As the electronic hands roamed over her body. She was there. She was at the very edge. Her mind said to hold back, but her body was once again thrusting upward and her voice was yelling out "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" There was a momentary flash of light. At first she thought someone had taken a picture, but then she realized that it had been someone opening the door. It had to be Earl, but if it was, why was she still in darkness? Then she felt the hands on her body. This was not the electronic stimulation that felt like hands, this was human hands running over her entire body. Teasinator's voice broke the silence with the reminder, "If you come without permission, you will be punished." Marsha's only response was "Ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh," as the hands continued to roam over her body. She felt the little nipple caps being removed only to be replaced by human fingers tweaking and twisting her nipples. Then human lips - real human lips - suckling at her breast. Teasinator again reminded her, "If you come without permission, you will be punished." There was a strange pulling sensation on the underside of her breasts. The black pads were being peeled off. Then she felt the same sensation on her abdomen and between her legs on her upper thighs. Hands reached beneath her and removed the pads from her ass. Then the hands untied the leather thong's ties at each hip and pulled it from her body. Finally, she felt first the anal and then the vaginal dildos being pulled out of her. The hand continued to roam her body.... tweaking her nipples... playing with her clit. Lips suckled her breasts. A mouth and tongue lapped at her pussy. She was on the edge of losing control. Her back was arched high in the air as she cried out again and again, "Fuck me! Please fuck me!" She felt a man's body positioning himself between her legs. He thrust into her and began pumping in and out of her swollen cunt. She was now screaming, "Let me cum! Please, please, let me cum!" The man continued to drive into her, bottoming with each stroke so that his body slammed against her swollen clit. Finally she could feel him begin to stiffen in preparation for ejaculating. She felt his face along side her own. A soft voice - Earl's voice - whispered in her ear, "You may cum." He then rode her as she screamed and thrashed and thrust against him so violently that he was lifted up off of the padding on which they lay. After a loud and long scream from Marsha, they both collapsed into the pad. Teasinator's voice once again filled the room. "Cycle completed," it said. "Restoring room lights." The lights in the room began to slowly brighten. The returning light caused Marsha to blink and squint. Earl was still lying on top of her. He was wearing an odd headset with what looked like a strange pair of binoculars on it. As he pulled it off his head, he said simply, "Night vision goggles." He then pointed at the Teasinator and said, "Your very expensive little friend over there illuminates the room with infra-red light. That tall stalk coming out of the top of its head in an LED light source. The smaller stalk is a fully mobile night vision web cam with remote tilt, swivel and zoom." I was in the middle of a meeting when a message came through to my phone saying, "Teasinator session begun. Click here for video." Luckily I was sitting so that my bosses couldn't see the streaming video. They assumed it was a work related call since it was on my work phone. Marsha just lay limp in her bonds with her eyes very wide. "When I got back to my hotel room, I went to the website indicated in the message and signed in as directed. There was an important message for me telling me that it appeared that they had shipped an obsolete manual with my purchase and I should be sure to download the new manual before beginning a session as there were many new features on the newer model." Earl chuckled and continued, "It would appear that you had not gotten that message before you began your little session. I downloaded and read the manual and figured out exactly what you were trying to do. I watched some of the stored session and this morning activated the internet override to change your final cycle so that it would be still running when I got home." "Are you angry with me?" asked Marsha, dreading what his answer might be. "Not at all," he replied. "The purpose of these meetings was to interview for an in-house promotion to a new position. I was really interested, but I was concerned that it would involve a lot more travel. I will probably be gone a few days each week from now on." He reached over and released one of the wrist restraints. "However, now that you have your little toy to occupy yourself, and I can join in the fun from afar..." He released the other wrist restraint and began removing the leg cuffs. Marsha was now free of her restraints for the first time in almost three days. "You would not believe how tired I am," she said to her husband. "Are you going to carry me to bed or am I going to sleep here tonight?" Before Earl could answer, Marsha added, "Either way, when I wake up tomorrow morning, I am going to give you your reward for the best diamond earrings that a girl has ever received." Earl picked her up and carried her back into the house. They were both naked as they crossed the yard, but neither of them cared. As they left the Yoga Shed, a mechanical voice from inside said, "Program complete. Shutting down until needed." = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 UMPA Eleven http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952 BDSM Boot Camp http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11204 New: The Mansion Club http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11995 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Missy Likes It - Chapter 02 of 05 by The Technician BDSM Young; fff/f; F/f ; Spanking; Pain; Public Nudity, Humiliation = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A five part story of a young woman growing up in a BDSM family In Chapter 02 she talks about her junior high years. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2013 by The Technician [email protected]. Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Missy actually slept until almost noon, and she didn't come downstairs until almost one. She was wearing a light blue pair of "pajama jeans" that made it very difficult not to notice that she had a VERY enticing ass to match her cute face and sparkling eyes. I offered her some steak and eggs and she bantered back, "With or without a shot of whiskey?" Then she laughed. She had an almost musical laugh. If I weren't basically doing therapy with her, I would definitely be trying to do her. Well, maybe when we have other things sorted out, we might sort that out, too, but I had promised to help her and taking her to bed at this point wouldn't be helping her. After lunch I suggested that we sit out on the back deck. Again, if I wasn't trying to keep my distance, I would have suggested the hot tub located there. But for now, that would not be a good idea. The blue pajama jeans were bad enough. A bikini - or less - in a hot tub would probably be more than I could resist. After we were settled in with a glass of wine for her and a dark ale for me, she asked, "Where was I?" "You were eight years old and getting hot and squishy with David." "Ah yes," she responded. "Mom never did spank me again. David did quite a bit, and after I got older Dad did occasionally, but that is jumping way ahead in the story. The next time that I really got hot and squishy was when we had a weekend slumber party over at Chrissy's." "Her parents had a lot of land - almost an estate, and there was an apartment over the garage. I think it was originally supposed to be for a chauffeur, but Chrissy's parents had converted it into a private play area for her. There were two small bedrooms up there and a large open area with a small kitchen on one wall." "Chrissy invited the gang over for a weekend slumber party. It was the beginning of our seventh grade year together, and since we were teenagers - or almost teenagers - Chrissy's parents decided that we could spend the weekend basically unchaperoned. It was a standard stay up all night, talk about boys, and watch monster movies kind of weekend, except it wasn't all monster movies." "One of the movies was Captive Princess.' It was a romance about a princess who is captured by pirates and falls in love with the captain of the pirates and sails off into the sunset with him. When the movie was over, one of the girls said that she would like to be captured by pirates. Chrissy said that was dumb and that she wouldn't like it because it wouldn't be the way it was in the movie. Real pirates wouldn't have treated the princess like that. They would have turned her into a naked slave who had to do everything that everyone commanded her and if she didn't they would beat her." "Several of the girls said Ewww,' and one added That would be terrible. I wouldn't like that." " Missy would like it,' purred Chrissy and looked directly into my eyes. She likes being naked and she likes having her ass beaten. Don't you Missy?'" "Everyone was looking at me as Chrissy went on. Missy likes it, don't you, Missy?'" "She laughed and said to me, I bet that if I told you to strip down and come over here and lay across my lap you would do it, wouldn't you, Missy? Because Missy likes it, don't you, Missy?'" "I shook my head and said, No.' But as Chrissy continued to stare at me and held up her hand and beckoned me forward with her finger, I found myself walking directly over to her." " Missy likes it, don't you, Missy?'" "Again I said No,' but at the same time I was slipping down my pants and underwear and pulling my blouse up over my head until I was standing before her totally naked." " Missy likes it, don't you, Missy?'" " No, I don't. I don't. I don't.' I whined, but as I was saying that I was laying myself down over Chrissy's lap." "Chrissy rubbed my butt and softly tapped it with her hand. Ask for it, Missy. Tell me that you like it and ask for it or I won't give it to you." "The other girls were staring at me. I could feel myself turning red all over in shame, but I so much wanted Chrissy to spank me and make me feel warm. But she didn't spank me. She just kept slapping me very lightly with the flat of her hand." " Ask for it... You have to ask for it or you don't get it.'" " Spank me,' I whispered. " You're still missing something,' taunted Chrissy. " Spank me, please,' I moaned." " Still something missing.' she said" " Spank me, please, Mistress.'" I hissed. " That's nice, but not what I was looking for.' she said sarcastically, and then added sternly, You didn't tell me that you like it.'" " Spank me, please, Mistress. Missy likes it... Missy likes it... Missy needs it.' I was crying and writhing on her lap." "SLAP! Say you like it.'" "SLAP! Say you like it or I stop.'" "SLAP! Let's hear you tell everybody that Missy likes it.'" "I finally said, Missy likes it.' and Chrissy really slammed her hand onto my ass." "I kept getting louder and louder and Chrissy kept hitting harder and harder. Missy likes it.' SLAP! Missy likes it.' SLAP! Missy likes it.' SLAP! Missy likes it.' SLAP! Missy likes it.' SLAP!" "I don't know how long this went on but suddenly it was like a volcano erupted inside of me. The heat and squishiness seemed to flow all through my body and then suddenly flow out of me from between my legs. I thought I had peed myself because I was suddenly so wet between my legs." "I had no idea what was really happening, but it had to have been my very first orgasm. I didn't even know what an orgasm was then, but I knew that Missy REALLY liked it. It wasn't at all sexual, in the grown-up sense of sexual, but it was truly an orgasm. I had an orgasm purely from the pain and humiliation of laying naked over Chrissy's lap for a spanking and having to say in front of all my friends that I liked having my ass spanked." "After I stopped shaking, Chrissy dumped me off her lap onto the floor and said, Well there isn't any doubt that Missy here is a little naked slave girl, is there?'" "All of the girls said something like, I guess not,' and Chrissy asked, So, what should we have our little naked slave do for us?'" "Mary, one of the girls, said, We were supposed to bring pop and snacks over from the house, but we forgot. Maybe we should send Missy over to the house to get them.'" " But I'm naked!' I exclaimed." " Well, duh!' responded Mary. Isn't a naked slave supposed to be naked?'" "Despite my protests, they took me downstairs into the garage area and pushed me out the side door. It was still twilight and my naked body was clearly visible to anyone who was watching. Luckily for me, we were quite a ways back from the street, so the only ones who might be able to see me were Chrissy's parents and her older brother and sister. I ran across the driveway and up the sidewalk to the side entrance to the house. Chrissy's mom had said that she would leave that door open if we needed anything." "I slipped in really quietly and crept up to the kitchen. The small cooler that we were supposed to have brought pop out to the garage with was still sitting on the counter empty. A heavy duty plastic bag that looked like a loosely woven basket sat next to it full of chips, cookies and other snacks. I tiptoed across the room and opened the refrigerator. Several rows of pop cans lined the bottom shelf and I started filling the cooler." "Suddenly a woman's voice from the living room said, Chrissy, is that you?'" "I answered, No, Mrs. Curie. It's me, Missy.'" " Come in here,' she called out, and I froze. How could I explain the fact that I was naked?" " Do I have to?' I asked". " You most certainly do!' she answered." "She sounded a little bit angry, so I scampered into the living room. She wasn't alone. She and Chrissy's older brother, Darren, were sitting on the couch. Her older sister, Sharon, and her dad were sitting on straight-backed chairs in the middle of the room facing them. Sharon and Chrissy's dad looked embarrassed to see me, even though I was the naked one." " WHY are you naked?' demanded Mrs. Curie. Tell me the truth - all of it.'" " We were watching Captive Princess,' I explained. Chrissy said that the pirates would have made a naked slave out of the princess, and then the girls decided that I should be their naked slave and sent me into the house to get the pop and snacks.'" "Mrs Curie turned her finger in a circle indicating that I should turn around. I did and she said, It looks like the pirates have punished their naked slave, haven't they?'" "I turned red and looked down at the carpet." " I asked you a question. Answer it!' demanded Chrissy's mom. She continued in a very loud and commanding voice, Your ass is all red. Did the pirates spank their naked slave or not?'" " Yes, Mrs. Curie. They spanked me.' I answered in a quivering voice." " Did you like it?'" "My eyes were totally wide and my mouth was open. I stammered for a moment or two, and then she repeated herself. Did you like it?'" "I hung my head and answered softly, Missy liked it.'" " So, now you are truly their naked slave, aren't you?'" " Yes,' I answered meekly." " But you aren't naked, are you?'" "My head flew up and I sputtered, What do you mean?'" " You aren't naked. You are wearing shoes. A naked slave should be naked shouldn't she? And you are wearing shoes.'" "I looked down at my feet. Chrissy had insisted that we all take off our shoes in the garage before going upstairs to her area. I had grabbed them and put them on as the girls were forcing me out the door because the wide driveway was white, crushed rock and would have been sharp on my bare feet." " Take off your shoes,' ordered Mrs. Curie. I did, and then she added, I think our naked slave needs a little punishment for not being naked, don't you, Darren?'" "If it were possible to turn a darker shade of red I did so as I looked over at Chrissy's older brother. He was smiling at me in the strangest way." " Why don't you do the honors, Darren,' Mrs Curie said and pushed me towards her son. He picked up something off the end table and beckoned me to lay over his lap. As I walked over to him, I realized that it was a yellow, hard-plastic Ping Pong paddle. Ten should do,' added Mrs. Curie as he pushed me down over his lap." " Count them,' he ordered and struck me solidly on the left cheek of my ass really hard. He slammed the paddle down again and said, Count them or it goes on forever.'" " Two,' I responded." " One,' he corrected. You didn't count the fist one.' Then he slammed the paddle down on may ass again." " Two,' I said again. Then Three' and Four' and Five' and Six' and Seven' and Eight' and Nine' and finally Ten.'" "My butt really hurt. The warmth was there. The squishiness was there. But the pain was also there. Maybe it was because he was a boy I didn't know. Maybe it was because I wasn't in front of friends. Maybe it was because he just hit so darned hard, but I didn't like it at all while it was happening. After it was over, however, the warmth and the squishiness kept growing in my tummy." " Come here,' said Mrs. Curie. And bring the paddle.'" "I thought that she was going to spank me again, but instead ordered, Open your mouth.'" "I did and she placed the side of the paddle in my mouth." " Bite down,' she ordered, and then added, and keep this in your mouth until you drop it in Chrissy's lap.'" "I started to go back into the kitchen to finish getting the pop and snacks, but she stopped me with her hand and said, One more thing for our naked slave.' Then she addressed her daughter, Sharon, one of your old ones will do. I think the pink rhinestone one with the silver leash. Go get it.'" "Sharon turned beet red and left the room. A few moments later she returned with a pink dog collar that was studded with rhinestones. A long silver leash was clipped to the front of the collar." " Come here, my naked slave,' ordered Mrs. Curie." "Once I was standing in front of her, she lifted my head and buckled the dog collar around my throat. Now you can take the pop and snacks out to your pirate masters like a good little naked slave girl.'" "Keeping the yellow paddle clamped tightly in my mouth and trying not to trip on the silver leash that was dragging on the ground between my legs, I returned to the kitchen and picked up the cooler and the plastic container of snacks and started back out toward the garage. As soon as I stepped out of the house, the garage door opened up and Chrissy and the girls were standing there watching me. I could see them laughing when I got to the stone driveway and tried to gingerly step across the sharp stones. With the heavy cooler and the container of snacks and the leash hanging between my legs, gingerly was not possible, and I finally had to just walk normally across the drive and let the pain in my feet add to the humiliation of being naked with a collar and leash on my neck and a Ping Pong paddle in my mouth." "When I finally got to the garage, Chrissy laughed and said, I forgot that it was Friday night, and mom and Darren would be holding their weekly punishment session for Dad and Sharon. Did you get to watch anything or were you too early?'" "I couldn't say anything with the paddle in my mouth, so I just mumphed and started up the stairs. Chrissy followed directly behind me and twice while we were climbing the stairs slapped me on the ass and said in a sing-song voice, Missy likes it. Missy likes it.'" "Despite my tears and humiliation and the pain in my feet, I had to admit, I did. Missy liked it." = = = Missy looked up at me and smiled an odd dreamy sort of smile as though she were thinking of fond memories that were no more. Then she continued. "From that time on, I was the group's naked slave.' Well, not all of the time, but whenever we were alone together in private, and sometimes when it wasn't quite so private." She paused and looked down at the floor, but I sensed there was something else she wanted to tell me, so I asked, "What do you mean by that?" "Well," she responded, "there was this eighth grade band trip. It was almost at the end of our eight grade year. Chrissy had already turned fourteen. I was one of the youngest girls in the class and I was still thirteen. We were all starting to change quite a bit. Chrissy had a small, but well developed set of breasts. She also had thick hair between her legs. I had only little puffy pre- breasts and just a wisp of hair starting between my legs." "The band had won some sort of contest and was supposed to perform at this big telethon up in the city. It meant staying overnight at least one night at a hotel or motel. The band director decided on two nights and that it would be better to travel in small groups in cars. Chrissy's mother volunteered to drive and be a chaperone. Our whole gang fit in her big van, and we rode up to the city in real comfort. There was a cooler under the back seat and a DVD screen in front of each of us." "It was typical junior high chaos as we checked into this hotel on the edge of town. It wasn't the most high-class place, but it was in a basically good neighborhood and was much cheaper than staying right downtown. Rehearsal went well that evening, and after stopping at a fast food place to eat, we got back to the hotel well after dark. We were told to go to bed and get some sleep so we would be ready for the next day." "Our performance was the next afternoon. It was great. Everyone played just like they were supposed to. We ate an early supper, this time at a really nice restaurant that had a big room that held all of the students and parents. It was only a little after six when we got back to the hotel. The hotel manager met us at the door asking for one of the mothers. There was a family emergency of some sort and she would have to go home immediately. The girls with her were really disappointed because they were looking forward to the pool and other things at the hotel that night, but because they were all seventh graders, and young ones at that, they couldn't stay without a chaperone in the room." " I think I have a solution,' said Chrissy's mom. There is no one on the ninth floor but our group. Our room is right across the hall from yours and we are at the end of a hallway. My girls are older and a bit more mature. I will just move across the hallway and stay with your younger girls. I can keep a close eye on them and will still be able to keep a distant eye on my older group. There were a couple of parents who said they would be available in case of an emergency, but couldn't stay overnight. We just have to call one of them to come up early tomorrow to bring your group home.'" "So that is what they did. Mrs. Curie moved most of her stuff across the hallway and became chaperone for the younger group. That left Chrissy and me and the other girls alone across the hall in our connecting rooms." "We all changed into swim suits and headed down to the pool. Most of the band was there and it was fun, but the pool closed at ten and we had to head back up to the room. Mrs. Curie made sure we were all in the room before going across the hallway to the other group. You behave, you hear me,' she said as she closed the door. And don't do anything that I wouldn't do.'" " That leaves things wide open,' said Chrissy. And I think we should start with a little naked slave time for Missy.'" "I went white, and then red. I was standing there in my swimsuit - we all were. Strip,' ordered Chrissy, and I immediately did. Chrissy stood before me and looked directly at me as she spoke, We need our naked slave to properly prepare us for the evening. You are going to stand in the shower and wash each of us, especially our hair, and then you are going to comb and dry our hair like a proper naked slave serving her Mistresses.'" "Yes, Mistress Chrissy," I responded and went into the bathroom to get the shower ready. Each of the girls came in and stepped out of their swimsuits, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom floor. Then they got into the shower and I washed their bodies and washed and rinsed their hair." "Chrissy was last. As I finished rinsing her hair, she said, Finish cleaning me up. You have a lot of hair to dry and set before you come back in here and rinse out our swimsuits.'" "Chrissy had an almost professional type combination hair dryer and styler, but it still took over an hour and a half to get everyone's hair dry and set like they wanted it. Then Chrissy suggested that since I was being their salon girl, I might as well do their nails. So I spent another hour carefully removing any traces of old nail polish and putting on two layers of new color for each girl." " What do you think, girls?' asked Chrissy when I was finally finished. Should we go all the way and get the paws to match the claws?' She wiggled her toes as she was speaking. All of the girls said, Of course,' and Chrissy told me to go into the bathroom and get a towel. She had me put it on the floor beneath her feet and then said, Do a bad job and I'll spank your naked ass tonight.' She grinned at me and added, Do a good job and I will spank you harder.'" "All of the girls laughed uproariously as though that was the funniest thing anyone had ever said. I just crawled down in front of Chrissy and started working on her toenails. There was a little footstool in the room and I pulled it over to us and started to the drape the towel over it. No, no, no, little naked slave,' purred Chrissy. Our feet stay on the floor. I want you to have to bend over all the way while you work. Then we can watch your naked ass as you humiliate yourself and watch your cunt getting wetter and wetter.'" "She laughed, as did all the girls. I just knelt in front of her bent over as far as I could and started cleaning the old nail polish off her toenails. In order to properly work on her toes, I ended up resting my elbows on the floor. That meant that I was bent way over and my ass was sticking way up. I could feel the air from the ceiling fan blow against my pussy, and suddenly my pussy lips felt hotter and colder at the same time. I was getting wet and the fan was evaporating the moisture like sweat." "I finished Chrissy and moved on to the next girl. After I had removed the old polish, but before I started putting on the new, Chrissy stopped me with, Don't open that bottle yet. I want to check something and don't want you spilling anything else on the rug.'" "I didn't know what she meant, but stayed very still as she came up behind me. Suddenly she slid her fingers up between my legs and through my slit. I gasped and jumped and then turned red all over again as Chrissy loudly announced, She's dripping wet. We'd better put a towel under her ass or she will drip all over the rug.'" "I wanted to just melt through the floor, but Chrissy lifted up my head and held out her fingers in front of my face. Lick,' she said, and I did. Suck them clean,' she ordered, and I opened my mouth and let her put her fingers in. I closed my lips around her fingers and sucked hungrily while I cleaned her with my tongue. Hope you didn't suck off any of the polish,' laughed Chrissy and she slapped me on the ass." " Now go get a towel to put under you and get back to work... naked slave.' Everyone laughed as I scampered to the bathroom and came back with a towel to put under me as well as the towel that I had under the feet I was working on." " Maybe Missy should open a nail salon,' one of the girls said. She could charge for the manicures and pedicures and charge extra for admittance to watch her work.' Everyone in the room, except me, thought that was an hilarious idea." "By the time I had finished with everyone and redone both fingernails and toenails to change the color for Chrissy and two other girls, it was well past midnight. We probably need to be getting to bed.' one of the girls suggested, but Chrissy said, I think we need a midnight snack before we go to sleep. Everybody chip in and we will send our naked slave down to the lobby to get us some pop and snacks.'" " But someone might see me!' I protested. I could get attacked!' I stammered." " You're right,' Chrissy answered. You might get attacked. We don't want you to get robbed. Maybe you need to carry the money where nobody will see it.'" "She reached into her suitcase and drew out a thin tube with a chain and key ring on one end of it. It was about as big around as a nickle and about three inches long. This is supposed to be for boat keys.' she announced. If it falls overboard it will float. In case you actually loose it, you're supposed to put some sort of ID in the tube so whoever finds it will return it to you.' She looked at me with a very evil smile on her face and said, But I have a different use for it.'" "Chrissy twisted the tube and it opened in the middle. She then rolled several five dollar bills into a tight roll and slid them inside. Come here little naked slave,' she ordered, and when I stood in front of her she added, turn around and bend over.'" "I felt her finger at my ass button. Yes, that will work quite well," she said. She reached up and stuck something in my mouth with the order, Slobber it up and make it really wet or it is going to hurt like mad going in.'" "I licked and sucked on the tube and then Chrissy pulled it back out of my mouth by the key ring. I knew what she was going to do, but I really wasn't ready for it. I gasped as the rounded end of the tube opened my anal canal. I could feel Chrissy's finger follow it slightly into my ass." " Stand up!' she ordered and I did. The key chain stuck out slightly and the key ring hung between my legs like a piercing. There you go,' announced Chrissy. All you have to do is pull it out to put money in the machines and then put it back in to come back up here.'" "Chrissy looked me directly in the eyes and said, Don't take all night. And don't drink any of the pop or eat any of the snacks before you come back. I want you back here as soon as you can with your mouth empty and your hands full of pop and snacks.'" "With that she slapped me on the ass and pushed me out the door into the hallway. I knew better than trying to knock on the door and beg to be let back in. It was easier to just somehow sneak down into the lobby and buy the pop and snacks." "I decided the stairway was safer than the elevator. If I was in the elevator and the doors opened with someone there, I was trapped, but if someone came onto the stairs, I could hurry up or down another floor. I made my way to the ground floor and carefully pushed the door open into the hallway. The vending machines were located where this hallway came out into the lobby. I could see them against the wall from where I was standing. I crept down the hallway and looked around the corner into the lobby." "My luck was holding. The desk clerk was in the back office, and as long as no one came through the front doors, the little chime wouldn't sound to call him back to the front desk. I walked quickly to the machines. I looked around again before I squatted down slightly and pulled the tube from my rear end." "I opened it up and fed a five into the pop machine. I never realized how noisy a pop machine could be. Not only did the can CLUNK really loud as it fell into the opening, but the change CLUNKED and CLANGED as it dropped into the coin return slot. I looked around fearful that the noise might have attracted someone, but noone seemed to have heard it. The coins seemed to be even noisier when I put them back into the machine to purchase the next can. Seven more cans of pop to go. With each clunk and clang I nearly peed myself in fear, but finally I had eight cans of pop sitting on the floor in front of me." "Everyone had told me exactly what they wanted for a snack, and I quickly fed a five into three different candy machines. These machines allowed you to keep selecting as long as you had a balance in the counter, so I didn't have to keep putting change back into the machines. I soon had everyone's snacks and pressed the Finished' button on the three machines. Several dollars in quarters, dimes and nickels clunked and clanged into the change slots." "I rolled the remaining fives back into a tight roll and stuffed them back into the tube. Looking around quickly to see that I was still unobserved, I squatted slightly and pushed the tube back up inside of me. I was starting to gather the pop and snacks into my arms when all of a sudden I realized that I had to do something with the change." "I had nothing to carry the coins in. Chrissy must have thought of that when she maneuvered it so that I would not be carrying my purse or billfold. I scooped up the big handful of change and was about to put it in my mouth when Chrissy's words came back to me. I was supposed to come back to the room with my mouth empty." "Well, there were only two other cavities in my body, and I wasn't going to push a handful of change up there with that tube. The image of all that change spilling out when Chrissy pulled out the tube was just too much to bear. That left only one place. I cupped the change in my hand and reached down between my legs and pushed the coins past my pussy lips. It took several tries before I had all of the coins inside me, and I was afraid that they might come spilling back out at any time." "Trying to keep my legs pressed somewhat together and taking very smalls steps, I headed back down the hallway with my arms full of pop and snacks. When I got to the stairway, two problems were immediately apparent. With my arms full I really couldn't open the door to get into the stairway, and with my pussy full of coins, I really couldn't climb steps. I looked both ways down the hallway and reluctantly stretched out a finger and pushed the button for the elevator." "Thankfully, it opened immediately and was empty. I stepped in and reached out one finger to press the button for the ninth floor. Everything worked until we got to the eighth floor. The elevator stopped. I moved over as far as I could to one side and hoped that no one was actually getting on. Two young men - they looked like college age or a little older - got on and pushed the button for the top floor restaurant and bar. They were talking to each other as they entered and didn't really see me until the doors had already closed. Then they both stared at me very wide eyed." "One of them said, Well, well, well, what do we have here?" "I blurted out, I lost a bet,' I could feel their eyes moving up and down my naked body. I'm too young for you,' I stammered out, and then the doors opened on the ninth floor." "As I got out of the elevator, one of the boys said, Give us your name. We'll wait for you to grow up.' They were both laughing as the elevator doors closed behind me." "I hurried back to the room and knocked on the door. Who is it?' rang out Chrissy's voice." " It's Missy' I replied. Open the door.'" " Who?' came the voice from inside." " Missy,' I answered a little louder." " That isn't who we sent down for pop.' said another voice from behind the locked door." "I knew what they wanted now. I got as close to the door as I could with all the stuff in my hands and said just loud enough for them to hear me, It's your naked slave girl returned from her task. Please let me in.'" "The door opened and I hurried into the room. You may serve,' intoned Chrissy. You will find enough glasses on the counters.'" "I gathered up glasses from the counters in both rooms, removed the little plastic wrappers, and began to pour the pop." " Don't you think we need ice, my little naked slave?" asked Chrissy. "I just groaned and grabbed the ice bucket and headed down the hall. The ice machine was only a little ways away so I was soon back at the room knocking on the door. This time when they asked who it was I answered, Your little naked slave girl bringing ice for her pirate masters.' There were very loud giggles as someone opened the door and let me into the room." "After I had poured pop for everyone and opened their snacks and distributed them to each of them, Chrissy called me over. Bend,' she ordered and I did. With a quick tug, she pulled the tube from my ass. Clean this and bring it back to me.' she said, and I felt myself go pale." " You can use the sink in the bathroom, she laughed, unless you want to suck your turds off it.' I took the tube dangling from Chrissy's finger and went into the bathroom to wash it off. A few moments later I brought it back out to her and placed it in her hands." "She opened the tube and pulled out the remaining fives. Where is the change?' she asked, and I felt myself getting very red. Give it to me, now!' she ordered, and I lowered my hand to between my legs." "Chrissy started laughing very loudly. That's a pussy, not a purse, silly.' Then she slapped me very hard on the ass. I don't know if it was because it caught me by surprise or because my muscles tightened with the slap, but two quarters slipped out and fell to the floor. Now everyone was laughing and I could feel myself getting hot and squishy." " Put that towel under you again, and lean against the wall. We need to empty the change machine.' I did as Chrissy had ordered me and then she and all the girls started slapping my ass very hard. With each slap a coin or two would pop out and drop to the floor." " We're going to have to wash that before anyone can use it,' said someone. That's what naked little change machine slave girls are for,' giggled someone else. There is a coin washer at the other end,' added someone and they picked up a few coins and pushed them into my mouth. Soon all the coins were in my mouth and whenever another popped out, it was quickly added." "I don't know how long the spanking went on, but I was getting warmer and squishier by the minute and then suddenly the volcano erupted. My knees nearly buckled and all of the remaining coins spurted out of me. How I didn't swallow the coins that I had in my mouth I don't know." "Then I heard Chrissy's voice saying to me, Spit them out, don't swallow them.' She was bending me over and had her finger thrust into my mouth. I spit the remaining coins onto the towel on the floor. The girls were looking at me wide-eyed. Wow!' one of them said, Missy REALLY likes it.'" "Chrissy just said, I guess it is time for bed after all. Missy, you can keep the coins. Even a naked slave girl deserves a tip once in a while.'" "The next morning we all got packed up and after a quick breakfast were on the road back home. After we had driven for a little while, Mrs. Curie said, Girls, do you know why I was so sure that nothing would go wrong last night?'" "All of us tensed up fearing what might come next and almost in unison answered, No.'" " You see, my family owns that hotel where we were staying. So I was able to get the access codes for the security cameras and bring them up on my laptop computer that I had with me in the room. I could even record the feeds from the different security cameras. I did, and I decided to make a little remembrance video for you to watch on your way home.' She reached up and punched a button of some sort on the dash board and all of the DVD screens came on." "The image was of the hallway just outside our room. There was a time stamp in the upper right- hand corner. At exactly 12:47, I stuck my head out of the door, looked both ways, and then stepped out into the hallway naked. As I walked down the hallway away from the camera, you could see the glint of the key chain swinging between my legs." "The view shifted to the next camera and you could see me walking toward the stairway. As soon as I opened the door, the view shifted to inside the stairway. And so it went as the cameras followed me all the way down the stairs and out into hallway. When I stopped at the pop machine, the camera zoomed in close to show the key ring dangling between my legs. My hand came into the picture and I popped the tube out of my ass." " I didn't zoom that in,' interjected Mrs. Curie. It must have been the clerk at the front desk. All of the monitors display on his back desk so he can keep track of everything at night.'" "The camera pulled back again as I bought the pop and snacks, but it zoomed in super tight as I stuffed the coins into my pussy. Mrs Curie continued her narration, I had a little talk with the night manager to make sure none of this gets out on the internet. I offered him $10,000 dollars for his complete silence, and told him I would spend twice that much to have him killed if he ever showed the video to anyone. He handed over the recordings for the night, but I'm sure he had already made a copy and is probably at home whacking off to it right now.'" "I buried my face in my hands, but couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen. The camera inside the elevator showed the young men enter and clearly showed the expression on their faces when they saw me. I also had a little chat with the two young men. They somehow got the impression that your father was a Mafia boss or something. Not quite accurate, but sufficient to keep them from bragging about what they saw.' As the video continued, I heard myself say, I lost a bet.' Not only was there video, there was audio!" "And if there was audio in the elevator, that means that there might have been audio in the hallway. There was. When I heard myself saying, It's your naked slave girl returned from her task. Please let me in.' I started crying softly, but at the same time the heat and the squishiness was starting to pour into my belly. By the time I knocked again on the door to announce that it was Your little naked slave girl bringing ice for her pirate masters.' I was breathing heavily and pressing my legs together tightly to keep the volcano from erupting." "I was just starting to get my breath when the video began all over again. Mrs. Curie asked, Do you want to watch a movie or should we let this loop for a while?'" "Everyone - except me - yelled back, Let it loop!'" " Why?' asked Chrissy's mom, and in unison they all answered, Because Missy LIKES it!!'" "I was crying heavily now. Not because they were being mean to me or because I was having to watch myself debased and humiliated, but because they were telling the truth. Missy likes it. About half way home, the volcano finally erupted. It was stronger than it had been in the hotel room. It was stronger than ever before. I strained against the seatbelts and tried to arch myself off the seat as I let out a loud, guttural moan that seemed to go on forever. When I finally stopped Chrissy and all the girls started applauding. Chrissy said, We all like our little naked slave girl even when she has clothes on. We like her because....' everyone joined her, Missy likes it.'" "Chrissy turned around and looked at me. Missy likes whatever we do to you, don't you? Say it. Say what you know to be the truth about who and what you are.'" "I looked up. All the girls were turned in their seats to see me better, and I said loudly and clearly, "Your little naked slave girl not only likes it.... Missy LOVES it.'" = = = With that, Missy settled back in her chair. Obviously her story was over for the moment, and it was getting late in the day. "I think that is enough for today." I said. "I have some things I have to get finished in my workroom so you can check out the hot tub or take a walk or whatever for a couple of hours and then we are going out someplace fancy for supper." "What kind of restaurant is it?" she asked. "It is whatever you want. The steaks are superb; the fish is flaky with light, crispy batter; the salads are wonderful; the deserts are to die for. And the chef is a close friend of mine so if you have a special request, she will whip up whatever you want....... except an elephant steak." "What?" laughed Missy. I laughed back. "Its an old joke about a place that serves everything. It comes from way before your time. Don't worry about it. Just plan on dressing up for an evening on the town, so to speak." "Should I wear a dress?" "Up to you." "Panties?" she asked, smiling. "Again, up to you," I answered and met her smile. "What about jewelry?" I had already gotten up from my chair. I turned my head and answered her as I walked back into the cabin, "Whatever you think is appropriate will work at Jake's. It is all up to you." = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END CHAPTER TWO OF FIVE = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 UMPA Eleven http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952 BDSM Boot Camp http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11204 NEW: The Mansion Club http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11995 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Diary of a Pain Slut - Week Two of Five Maddi has to keep a diary as part of court-ordered therapy By The Technician Female Exhibitionist, Self-Bondage, Public Nudity, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Public Orgasm, Spanking, Whipping, Electro-Sex, Oral, Anal = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = When Maddi Miller gets caught doing naked self-bondage under an interstate bridge, the police take her to the psych ward of the local hospital. She is released but has to keep a diary as part of her thirty day evaluation and submit it to her therapist at the end of each week. This is week two of that diary. There are five weeks, each more or less stands on its own, but makes more sense if you have read the previous weeks. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2014 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Diary of a Pain Slut - Week Two By The Technician Maddi's Diary, Day Four, Monday I got out of the looney bin this morning. Dr. B said that I was "not a danger to myself or society," whatever that means. I still have to complete the full evaluation, however, or the police will recommend that I be put on the state sexual offender list. I can't believe that. Just because I was naked in public they want to lump me in with perverts who prey on little children. I thought Dr B was just saying that to scare me, but I looked it up after I got home, and yes, they can brand you a sexual pervert for life just because you were naked in public. There is some gender discrimination, however. Women are almost never put on the list for flashing. Men, on the other hand, end up on the list quite often. I guess this is one area where sexual discrimination works in my favor. I was really afraid of how things were going to go with my parents. They picked me up about noon after I had finished my session with Dr. B and a short trip to the court house to appear before a judge. Technically, I am in "supervised release." I don't know what I am released from because they haven't charged me with anything except maybe being nuts. The public defender explained to me that supervised release meant that if I didn't report back to Dr. B like I was supposed to, all he had to do was report it to the judge and I would be "taken in." I think Dad would say that they have me by the short hairs, except, I don't have any short hairs. I keep them all plucked off with one of those spinning tweezer things. Not everybody can use one of those, but I'm not all that hairy to begin with, so I can keep everything really smooth down there with out a whole lot of effort. Speaking of Dad, he was really silent when they picked me up and didn't say a word all the way home. When we got home, all my equipment was laid out on the kitchen table. Well, it didn't all fit on the table. The heavy stuff like the battery winches and some chains and things were on the floor next to the table. "Is this everything?" Dad asked once we walked into the kitchen. "That looks like everything that was in my bedroom and the basement," I answered. I didn't think it was a good time to mention the studio I had set up in the old shed that I used to use as a play house. "What are you going to do with it?" I asked. "The question is," he replied, " What are YOU going to do with it?' or more importantly, What in the hell HAVE you been doing with it?'" I felt myself getting all hot and red. I mean, who wants to talk to their father about their sex habits. Mom put her hand on my shoulder and smiled at me in that "I'm with you," motherly sort of way. "I'm a pain slut, Dad," I said. I was really surprised to hear myself say that, but I had been saying it so much to Dr B and the other shrinks that it just came out. I stood there all red and embarrassed. This was humiliating beyond belief, but it definitely wasn't turning me on. "I don't know why I am, but I am." I stammered. "I get sexual pleasure... a lot of sexual pleasure out of pain and bondage and humiliation. This equipment allows me to do that with the minimum of danger to myself or others." He looked at me with a very fixed glare. I took a deep breath and continued. "I don't know why I'm that way, but I am. If you lock all this up or make me throw it all away, what I am will eventually overwhelm me and I will go out and do something really stupid like going down to The Grease Pit and letting them do whatever they want with me." I stopped, unsure of what to say next and then continued, "I don't ever want to do that... again." I heard Mom gasp slightly but she said nothing. I looked as directly into my Dad's eyes as I could and said, "So please, Dad, just let Dr. B and the other keepers at the nut house work with me and see what they recommend. Maybe they can do something. Or maybe I just have to be what I am." Dad's face got really red. He was trying not to yell, but his voice got deep and strong and you could probably hear him all the way out at the road in front of the house. "Are you trying to tell me that you do all this because that is the way God made you?" "Yes," I replied meekly. "That's what I am trying to tell you." "Don't you dare use that kind of bullshit argument with me, young lady, I..." Mom cut him off, "Honey," she said sweetly and he stopped mid-sentence. "Do you remember when the local transport company offered you a job as regional supervisor? You would have been in charge of four of their dispatch centers. It would have been regular hours at almost half-again what you currently make. Do you remember what you told them?" Dad's face suddenly got all funny and his shoulders slumped slightly. He took a deep breath and said "Yes." Somehow all of the anger was gone from his voice. "I told them that God had made me an over-the-road trucker and that was what I was going to be til the day I died. I told you that it was the only way that I could be happy and you told me that if I had to be what I was in order to be happy, then you would always love me as I was." For once in my life I made the exactly correct choice and said absolutely nothing. Mom came over and hugged Dad and said, "Maddi is what she is. If she is just mixed up about what that really is, the doctors will straighten that out. But if she truly is what she says she is, then we need to give her a chance to see how she has to live that out in her life." Dad shook his head and softly said, "OK." Mom then said, "You told dispatch that you could be on the road by three. You need to get ready. Let me talk to Maddi while you change and then you can come back in and say goodbye." Dad walked down the hallway toward their bedroom and Mom motioned for me to come with her into the living room. She sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to her to indicate that I should join her. She smiled at me and said, "We will just sit here for a while until your dad is ready to leave. That way we won't have to stop something and try to restart it." We sat there quietly and a few minutes later, Dad came into the living room carrying his duffle bag. "I'll be back sometime Saturday," he said softly. Then with a little more force in his voice he turned to me and said, "Don't do anything stupid. Especially don't do anything REALLY stupid... again." I'm pretty sure he had heard the stories about the drunk girl who asked Brad to beat and humiliate her down at The Grease Pit. Everyone in town knew about it, but for some reason none of the guys who told the story ever said who the girl was. Maybe Brad and his friends are a little more honorable than I thought. In any case, Dad now knew that it had been me. He put his hand on my shoulder as I sat on the couch. "I don't want you to ruin your life. I really do love you, and will always love you, whatever you are... or think you are." He then bent down and gave me a kiss on the forehead. Mom stood up and they kissed... a real kiss. Then she said, "Keep it tires down." That was an old joke between them. Way back before I was born, Dad got caught in one of those freak thunderstorms that pushes high winds out in front of it. He was running empty on his way home and got blown off the road and flipped over by the wind. He called mom to say that he would be getting home a little late because he was "tires up in a corn field." Ever since then, she always tells him to keep it tires down when she says goodbye. A few minutes later, I could hear the rumble of Dad's rig pulling out. I looked at Mom and said, "Where should I start?" "You could start," she replied, "by telling me how a struggling college girl can afford all this expensive equipment. Last time I looked, a Jack Rabbit cost around $90 and I know that Pullzall electric come-a-longs cost around $600 because your dad bought one for his truck a while back... and you've got two of them sitting on the kitchen floor." "You know what a Jack Rabbit costs?" I asked. My voice was slightly higher with surprise and I know that my eyes were wide. "Actually," Mom said smiling at me, "I prefer the waterproof pearl Rabbit." I felt my mouth drop open. She continued, "It does get very lonely out there in those motels every week and I really do love a nice, long, hot bath at the close of the day." She looked at me over the top of her glasses and said, "Honey, sexual urges don't go away just because you get old. And I'm not that old. If I didn't let off the steam once in a while, eventually the boiler would explode and I would end up doing something really stupid that would hurt what I have with your dad. We love each other very much. He stays faithful to me, and I stay faithful to him." She shrugged her shoulders. "Actually," she said, "it's a little easier for him." She laughed. "No, it is a LOT easier for him. He doesn't have all that high a sex drive to begin with. I'm the one who usually has to initiate things. And it isn't because he's lost interest in me. He's always been that way. When I met him, I was working at a truck stop at night while I took classes during the day. The other truckers used to tease him because he wouldn't go out to the local titty bars and strip clubs with them. He doesn't turn on instantly, but if you get the flame going, he can go on forever and ever and drive you..." She suddenly colored and coughed nervously. I guess talking about your sex life to your daughter isn't all that easy either. "But we were talking about how you could afford all of this," she said suddenly. Mom looked at me with one of those looks that only a parent can give you that says, "I love you whatever you say, but you had damn well better answer the question." "I saved up my tips to buy the jack rabbit," I answered timidly. "And the rest?" she asked. Her eyebrows were up in that "Tell your mother the truth" sort of way. "I'm Beat Girl," I said quietly. "What?" Mom replied. "What do you mean by that?" "Let me get my laptop," I said and walked back into the kitchen to retrieve it. I picked up the little insert that allowed me to put the laptop on the TV and turned on the big TV on the other side of the room from us. A few moments later, my computer was on the screen. I typed a URL into the browser and an animated cartoon started playing. A naked girl in a pink cape and Batman mask was running toward the screen. The old Batman theme was playing in the background. It kept repeating "Dum dum dum dum dum dum dum dum dum DUM, BEAT GIRL!" Each time it said "Beat Girl," the animated character would be up close to the screen and would turn and bend over so that her ass nearly filled the screen. The first time, an animated paddle slapped across her ass and "Whap!" appeared in big blue letters. The next time a whip slammed into her and "Ka Pow!" appeared in giant red letters. Finally a red wand reached out and a spark jumped to the atavar's ass. "ZAP!" appeared in big jagged letters. Then the whole animation repeated. "That's a TAZapper,"I said in explanation. "It's spelled t-a-z-a-p-p-e-r, but pronounced Tay Zapper.' They're like a cattle prod, but a lot smaller and safe to use on a human." I paused and then added, "But they still hurt like hell." The cartoon had again looped back to the beginning so I clicked on a small icon in the corner that said, "Log In Here." After I entered my name and password, a new screen appeared. There were a series of pictures of a real girl in the pink cape and Batman mask. In one she was tied over a spanking bench with a complicated spanking machine slamming a paddle into her ass. In another she was covered with wires and contact pads. The top hat electrodes on her nipples and the contact clip on her clit looked very familiar. The third image visible on the screen showed her bound between two metal poles with several robot looking arms holding TAZappers next to her skin. Along side each image it said, "Members may click to replay previous sessions." At the top of the screen it said, "Next live session, Tuesday night 9 pm Eastern US Time" "Members pay $3.00 a month." I explained. Harold has a friend of a friend of a friend who runs a bunch of porn sites. He handles all the money transactions and Harold and I get a cut of it. Harold maintains the equipment and programs it so that it can't actually hurt me... like in damage me. Obviously, it hurts me. "I want to see one," Mom said softly. Her voice was almost a whisper. "Which one?" I asked. I really wasn't sure about showing her one of the actual sessions. "The one with the paddle," she answered. I clicked on the image and the screen went to video mode. "Do you really want to see this?" I asked, hoping she would say no, but she shook her head yes. The Beat Girl theme started playing and on the screen I came running up to the camera and spun around so that my ass practically filled the screen. "I don't have any tattoos or special birth marks so I can't be recognized," I said in explanation. Mom remained silent. "This is a thirty minute session," the me on the screen said brightly. "Once I get myself strapped in, the timer starts." Then I turned to look directly into the camera and said, "Remember to purchase your points so you can play. The paddle is 50 points a swat; the whip is 75; and the cane is 250." "Everything is in points," I explained, "because this goes out all over the world and points cost different amounts in different countries." "You mean that the whole world watches you get your naked ass beaten?" Mom asked. There was a strange breathiness in her voice. As the screen me started to strap herself into the spanking bench, a message appeared across the screen that said, "Remember, in a live session there are 8 camera angles to choose from. Live sessions cost 50 points to enter." After a few seconds, that message faded and a new message said, "Next live session is Tuesday night, 9 pm Eastern US time." The screen me was finally in place. She squeezed something in her left hand and the restraint belts tightened to hold her firmly in place. "That is a deadman safety switch," I explained. "If something goes really wrong, all I have to do is to let go and everything stops. Harold insists we always use one. I had one of those in my hand Thursday night." Mom said nothing. A timer appeared in the upper right hand corner of the screen. Beneath it were three lists, one above the other. The top list said PADDLE; the second said WHIP; and the third said CANE. Beneath the titles were three headings. "Cue," "Member Name," and "Strokes." The first person in the paddle list had cue 001 and had paid for 7 strokes. Number 002 was in the whip list and had 5 strokes. The next eight or ten in the cue must have been in paddle because the next whip name had a cue number of 0014. "You can use a keyboard, mouse or a game controller to control the devices in the live session. For a TAYZapper session you need a joy stick or game controller." I started to explain, but my words were drowned out as the screen me screamed with the first paddle strike. "Most of the time," I explained, "the screams are acting. Sometimes the orgasms are fake, too, but a lot of the time, the screams and the orgasms are totally real." Mom didn't seem like she was paying attention anymore. Her eyes were glued to the screen as the paddle completed the seventh swat and the whip swung back in an arc and snapped forward. It was programmed not to hit twice in exactly the same place, so the first strike was diagonal across the screen me's back. It then shifted slightly and slammed down again. By the time the fifth stroke hit, the screen me was screaming very loudly and it did not at all sound fake. There was a few second pause while the whip mechanism moved out of the way and the paddle mechanism again moved into place. The members don't know it, but there is a limit as to how fast any of the devices can be triggered. If you don't trigger something after 30 seconds, it triggers automatically, but you can't trigger faster than every five seconds. I once made the mistake of sitting down and calculating the maximum number of swats I could receive in a 30 minutes session. With a limit of every ten seconds, that is 12 a minute. Thirty minutes means 360 swats. That can be a lot, especially if someone chooses the double or triple option and pays 100 or 150 per swat so it hits twice or three times as hard. Close ups of the paddle slamming into my ass supposedly prove that it is actually doubling or tripling the hit. I wasn't really watching the screen me. After all, I had been there. Then I heard my mother gasp. I glanced up at the screen. It was that one! I remember this session very well. Cue position 21 was someone who had paid for 12 cane strokes. There were three stars next to the number of strokes. That meant he had paid 750 points for each stroke and they would be triple. Harold said that whoever it was probably thought I would break and drop the safety. If I do that, the session is stopped early and everyone gets their money back. Twelve strokes of the cane at 750 points each was 9000 points. If RichBastard1978 was American, he was paying twenty cents a point, so this was going to cost him $1800. When I'm strapped into the spanking machine, I have a monitor that I can see so that I can keep track of the time and know what is coming next. When the screen me saw the 12 triple cane strokes in the cue, she almost dropped the safety switch. I remember looking at the highlighted name in the paddle list that night just like I was watching it today. It was CharlieChan007 and he had 4 more swats coming. He was cue number 19. Cue number 20 was in the whip list and had paid for 3 strokes. The timer in the corner was down to two minutes. I knew that if these guys delayed their strokes, RichBastard wouldn't have time for all twelve. They must have realized that, too, because both of them had to have held down their controllers. The four swats with the paddle and the three with the whip were all exactly five seconds apart. Even with the delay between members waiting in the cue, there was still 1 minute and 20 seconds left on the timer when RichBastard took control. By the time the cane mechanism moved into place another 6 seconds had passed by. 72 seconds was more than enough time to deliver all twelve strokes. Then the first stroke hit. Screen me's scream and thrashing around was not faked in any way. When the second stroke hit she screamed even louder and nearly broke the restraint across her back which protected her kidneys and held her tightly in place. By the time the fourth stroke slammed into her asscheeks, her screams were continuous and she was vibrating and bouncing almost as if she were having a seizure. By the eighth stroke, the screen me was screaming both as she exhaled and as she inhaled. She was also babbling, "Please stop. Please! Please stop! God, please stop!" But the only thing that could stop it was if she dropped the safety switch or if RichBastard cancelled out. She didn't drop the switch, and RichBastard kept going until he had used up all twelve of his strokes. When the twelfth stroke hit, there was exactly four seconds left on the timer. I watched as the screen me kept screaming and thrashing and crying out. Then suddenly the voice coming out of the TV changed slightly. The screams became a bit lower and throatier and then morphed into a long grunting gasps of "aahhh, aahhh, aahh, aahh." Then her voice again rose into an extremely shrill scream as she cried out, "Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" and once again thrashed against her bonds. This time it was not pain that was driving her, but what was obviously a very intense orgasm. I watched the screen me finally start to calm down and said, "They aren't all like that, Mom. Some are pretty tame." Mom didn't answer. After a few seconds I looked over at her. Her face was very red and she was breathing deeply. Her hands were balled up against the outside of her thighs as if she were holding them there to keep them from acting on their own. "Mom? Are you OK?" I asked her. She took a very deep breath and smoothed out the material of her dress with her hands. "Not really," she replied after a few moments. "Honey, you and I are not as different as you think. I just never had the courage to act on my impulses. You probably have a lot more women than you think who sign onto your site and imagine themselves where you are." She stood up and walked toward the door to the kitchen. "Do what you need to do," she said as she paused in the doorway. "I will back you and make sure that your father understands." She gave a deep sigh, "No, he will never understand, but I do. He will back you because he loves you... and me." She looked at me and said, "I took tomorrow as a vacation day also, so we can talk more then. Right now, I think I have to take a long, hot bath... a really long, and really hot bath." She then gave me a really strange smile and added, "... just me and my waterproof rabbit." After she walked down the hallway, I sat there staring at the doorway. I had been afraid she wouldn't understand, but she understood. She understood completely because she was also a pain slut. She was just like me, but she was somehow able to keep it all buried deep within her and only let it out in her fantasies. I heard the water running in the bathroom as Mom filled the tub. A sudden weird thought went through my brain and I signed back onto the website using my full administrator name and password. I created a comp account with a five-year membership and a 10,000 point reserve. Then I emailed the membership name and password to my mother. Tomorrow night, when I go back online live, I won't know whether or not she is watching, but the fact that she might be will add to the humiliation. Who knows, I might even see BatMom show up in the cue. I just hope she doesn't blow all the credits buying triple cane strokes. It's been a long day. I'm grabbing a sandwich and going to bed. End of entry for Day Four Maddi's Diary, Day Five, Tuesday I didn't write anything last night before I went to bed. I am actually writing this first thing Wednesday morning before going in for my session with Dr. B. By the time my online session ended last night, I was too tired and too hurting to do anything but crawl into bed. I guess I should say what happened last night during the session. It was "Electric Beat Girl Night" so everything was electro-sex, or maybe I should say electro-pain. I don't really like the electro stuff. It worked out on the highway because I was naked in public, but doing it in a studio setting just doesn't feel sexual to me. That means my pain buddies don't show up and the pain is basically just pain, but this is, after all, a business and you need to keep the customers happy. Besides, electro sessions give an additional week for the bruises and welts to heal. The sessions alternate between impact sessions and shock sessions. First and third Tuesdays are paddle, whip and cane; second Tuesdays are electro-stim; and fourth Tuesdays are TAZapper sessions. If there is a fifth Tuesday, that is a combination session with all three types combined. I really hate those, but at the same time, I probably have my most intense orgasms during them. Last night was a second Tuesday, so it was an electro-stim session. The overall sessions last longer on a second Tuesday because I make a big deal of putting all the electrodes in place. I start with the paste-on contact pads. The first ones in place go on my arms just above the leather wrist restraints. The contacts themselves are white squares about 2" across. There is a big black "1" on each of the wrist contacts. And when I put them in place a list starts on the left side of the screen. Actually, I just step on a foot switch that triggers the list in the program. The first entry is "1 - Wrist," so that is what I put on first. Harold set up the list. He said it works "from the perimeter to the interesting stuff" to further entice people to spend points on shocks. Similar pads are placed on the inside of my legs just above the ankle restraints. Those are contacts number 2. Number 3 is higher up on my arms on the inside of my biceps; 4 is on the front of my legs just above the knees; 5 is inside my legs on my thighs; 6 is my upper abdomen; 7 is my lower abdomen; 8 is the bottom side of my tits; 9 is the top side of my tits; 10 and 11 are on the top and bottom of my asscheeks; 12 is at the very top of my legs in the front just on either side of the pubic mound; and 13 is on the inside of my legs right below my pussy. After I get all the pads in place, then I start connecting the wires to the electrodes. As I clip each wire to the corresponding electrode, the list on the screen shows the point cost to use that electrode. The closer the pad is to "the interesting stuff" the more points a shock costs. Low numbers are 3 points a shock. The higher numbers are 8 points a shock. After I get all of the wires clipped in place, I get out the anal and vaginal electrodes. The anal electrode is just a big butt plug with two metal stripes on it. I hold it up to the camera and then smear some lube on it. Then I turn around and point my ass at one of the lower cameras and slowly push it into place. As I do, it appears on the menu list. Twanging my poop shoot is 10 points. After the butt plug is in place, I pick up the clit zapper. It is technically called a vaginal shield and clitoral electrode and it looks like a man's ball protector cup for playing baseball, but it has electrodes on the inside that fit up against my labia and a clip electrode that connects directly to my clit. The whole thing is held in place by straps that make it look like some weird kind of thong. The strap that goes between my legs also connects to the anal electrode and holds it in place. The labia popper is 20 points. The clit zapper is 50. The final electrode that I put in place is a tongue clamp. It is a really weirdly shaped thing that clamps down lightly on my tongue and acts as a gag at the same time. I end up with the tip of my tongue sticking out of my mouth through the center of the clamp. It isn't all that uncomfortable unless it gets zapped. Then it hurts like hell, even more than getting zapped directly on my clit. Maybe that is because there is no erotic aspect to the pain I feel there. A single shock to the mouth is 250 points. Like I said, it hurts like hell and doesn't give me any pleasure, so if I get zapped there, at least I know somebody paid $50 to do it. There is also no double or triple option for the tongue electrode. It takes about twenty minutes for me to get completely wired up. Then I step into the restraint frame. The restraint frame is just a giant square that stands about 8 feet high and is about 8 feet wide. Restraint cables come down from the corners on top and out of the corners on the bottom. The cables themselves run inside the frame and aren't visible until they come down from the corners. The whole thing can be rotated so that I can be held at any angle. During the actual session, it slowly rotates so that it makes four complete revolutions in the thirty minutes. It turns all the way over in one direction and then rotates back in the opposite direction. That way the electrode cables don't get all wound up in the mechanism. Because everything rotates, there isn't a monitor that I can see to know who is in the cue or what is coming next. I wouldn't be able to tell anyway. There isn't a time spacer on the shocks, so they can come pretty fast and besides, the cue list for the electro-stim session doesn't say what all a person has purchased. It just says who is next. Once the cables are attached to my wrist and ankle restraints, a message appears on the screen telling people to make sure they have purchased their points. Harold signed me in to one of the Oriental versions of the site one day and showed me a video of one of the sessions. It was weird to see all the directions and information come up in Chinese or Japanese or whatever it was. Anyway, I went through all of that last night and stood there waiting for the first shock. As the restraint square started to slowly rotate, I realized that because I couldn't see a monitor I wouldn't know if Mom actually used any of her points and zapped me. For some reason that thought and how embarrassed it made me to think that Mom might be watching or even participating in all this, started my juices flowing. Then the first shocks hit. I probably should have had Harold program it so that you had to start with some of the milder areas, like my arms and legs, but whoever gets on the cue list first can do whatever they want. And whoever this was wanted the big three. The first zap pulled my pucker string and tightened my asshole around the butt plug. That normally doesn't really hurt, but this must be someone with a lot of money to spend because they were using the double or triple option. I squeaked when that first shock hit. It wasn't really a scream, but it wasn't fake either. There were five zaps. The last one was definitely a triple. Then the shocks bit my labia. That always hurts, and this was hurt times three. I wasn't squeaking now. I was flat out screaming. Again there were five hits. Whoever it was spaced them so I couldn't guess when the next one was going to hit. After the fifth one, there was a long pause. I thought that the system was cycling the next player into place, but a sudden, intense jolt directly to my clit told me otherwise. I was now leaned quite a ways forward as the frame rotated and so I was totally suspended by my arms and legs. When the shock hit and everything tightened up I really thrashed around in the air. More pulses followed and I screamed and twisted in the air with each pulse. As I bounced around and screamed I was a little afraid that I might pull myself out of the restraint cuffs. When the fifth pulse hit, I tried to beg him or her, to stop, but the clamp in my mouth is a very effective gag. There was a pause and once again I thought that it might be going to the next player, but after about 15 seconds he hit me with a combination pulse. Combination pulses are on the special menu and are really expensive. Each pulse is double what the total of the individual pulses costs. This was a combination, triple pulse no, they had paid the added premium for a quad pulse. My ass, my labia, my clit, AND my tongue all got nailed at exactly the same instant. And it wasn't just one pulse. It was a pulse train. Pulse trains are also on the special menu. Selecting pulse train means that you can have the pulse or combination pulse repeat up to 25 times. It repeats really fast and I can tell that it isn't just someone manually triggering it. The shocks slammed into my ass, my labia, my clit, and my tongue again and again and again and again. They seemed to go on forever and I was as close as I have ever been to dropping the safety switch. Then they stopped. It wasn't a long pause, but after 25 intense shocks in about 15 seconds, even a few seconds seems long. Then came a grand slam pulse, No one had ever chosen a grand slam pulse before. It is the next-to-the-last item on the special menu and costs three times the total of ALL of the pulses, plus 1000 points. Since it is so expensive and is almost at the bottom of the menu, it was assumed that it would be the last pulse in a player's play time. When Harold told me he had put it on the menu, he said, "This is just a fantasy choice. I've made it so expensive that nobody is every going to pick it, so you don't have to worry about it." Somebody picked it, but I didn't have time to worry about it because I didn't know it was coming. Every single electrode on and in my body was hit with a triple pulse all at the same time. Every muscle in my body tightened as far as they could as lightning went through my nervous system. I heard the frame creak and groan as I pulled against it. I was now almost face down and bounced up and down like a trampoline. If the butt plug hadn't been held firmly in place with a leather strap, I probably would have shot it out of my ass like a cork out of a bottle of champagne. I did loose control of my bladder. I often end up peeing myself on electro nights. I even drink extra water before the session so I have a lot of urine, but peeing myself from the pain is usually fake. Sometime during the half hour, I just let go. Usually I time it so that I am upright in the frame. I learned the hard way not to let go when my feet were higher than my head, especially if I was on my back. Having your own urine running down your body toward your face is not a pleasant feeling. When the grand slam hit, I didn't let go, I power sprayed. And I kept going until my bladder was totally empty. The stream was so powerful, I could feel it going out of me and could hear it splashing noisily on the floor beneath me. I was bouncing up and down in the restraints and screaming and groaning and waiting for the next fiendish pulse to hit, but nothing happened. Nothing at all. Ten seconds passed. And then twenty. Then thirty. Surely it has cycled to the next player. But if it has, the automatic play should have kicked in and sent the first pulse in his list. Nothing happened. Or did it? There had been a slight twinge on my clit, but after everything that had just happened, I almost didn't feel it. Then it hit again. This time it was slightly stronger, but it was still almost not enough to feel. After a long pause, it hit again. Again slightly stronger. This was not a different member. This was still the first player. The last item on the special menu is the ramp pulse. I don't even remember how many points it costs, but it allows you to set up a pulse train that grows slowly in intensity and speed. You can set it for up to 100 pulses and specify whether they get stronger or weaker, faster or slower, or combinations of both. Another pulse hit my clit. I think it was faster. I know it was stronger. Then another and another and another and another. They weren't up to the level of painful... yet, but all I could think about was my clit and the sensations coming from it. My whole body hurt. The previous shocks had put me through the wringer and my muscles and joints were sore. Now everything was concentrated on my clit. Something started happening that had never happened before in an electro session. My E buddies started showing up in droves. Each pulse to my now very tender clit was a klaxon call for the endorphins to gather. And they were definitely responding to the call. The shocks to my clit were getting stronger, but with endorphins flooding my bloodstream, the pain was being turned into pleasure and that pleasure was centered between my legs. The pulses were now strong enough to cause me to twitch as they hit, but I wasn't screaming or thrashing around as they hit. Instead I was moaning and writhing. This was now absolutely sexual. I was in Pain Slut Nirvana. I know the pulses were now at least at double level, but I continued to moan in ecstasy. I was well on my way to rainbow mountain and my only fear now was that the pulses would stop before I reached the peak. The pulses were now at maximum and were hitting me at about three or four a second. I was grunting and screaming out "More. More! MORE!" I was on the top of the mountain. My body was stretched to the extremes, and it wasn't just because of the leather restraints and frame. I screamed out, "PLEASE! LET ME CUM!" I don't know if it was a part of the program of if the player overrode the pulse ramp, but as soon as I yelled that, a grand slam pulse tore through my body. I had forgotten you could combine that with the pulse ramp. The first time I felt that pulse I screamed in agony. This time I screamed in the release of orgasm. It was truly a mind-blowing orgasm. I don't remember anything else about the rest of the session. The next thing that I clearly remember was crawling into my bed and falling asleep. I am going to have to watch the video of that night just to find out what happened in the minutes that were left in the session. End of entry for Day Five Maddi's Diary, Day Six, Wednesday Wednesday is not a good day for individual sessions with Dr. B. At least Wednesday morning isn't. I dragged myself out of bed and sat for a few minutes writing up last night and then headed into town so I could be in his office at 10:30. We talked primarily about how things had gone with my parents when I got home. I told him that Dad really didn't understand, but he was going to support me in whatever I did. I also told him that Mom understood a lot better than I thought she would, but I would rather wait until Friday to discuss that side of it. He said that it could wait until Monday after he had read my journal for the week. Well, Dr. B, this should give us something to discuss. I didn't get back to the house until almost one. Mom fixed me something to eat and we sat together at the table while we ate. Mom was unusually silent. I think she was waiting for me to start the conversation. "Did you watch last night?" I asked. Mom turned white, and then flushed a deep red. She looked down at her lap. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, "but I had to know for sure." "What?" I answered. I must have looked confused because she smiled and said, "Yes, I watched." She looked over at me and sighed slightly. "And I nearly emptied the account you set up for me. I signed on very early and was first in line when you started." "That was you!" I exclaimed. My eyes and mouth were wide open in shock. "I had to know for sure," she repeated softly. She reached out and put her hand on top of mine. "Yes, you are a true pain slut," she said. She stared down at the table. Her voice was very flat as she continued, "... and so am I." "Mom," I started, but she held up her hand indicating I shouldn't speak. "Each thing I did to you," she said, looking directly into my eyes, "I imagined I was doing to myself. I screamed along with you. ... both before... and after." She looked down at the tabletop and said softly, "You are what I am." She sighed again and said, "I am what you are." She then looked over at the wall and we sat there in silence for several minutes. After a while, she turned back to me and said, "I can keep the beast caged up." She laughed. "... most of the time." She laughed again. "Age allows you to do that. But you are young and the beast roars much more strongly within you." I started to speak, but she again held up her hand to silence me. "You have two paths from which to choose. You can do as I did and firmly cage the beast and try to live as though it is not within you. Or you can search for some way... or some place, where your beast can be allowed to safely run free. Those are your only choices. Trust me on this. I have lived long enough to see it and know what is happening. Any other path will lead to your destruction." She patted my hand with hers. "Think about it. I'll support you whatever you decide." I guess that there was nothing else to say so I remained silent. After a few moments, Mom got up and kissed me on the forehead and then headed down the hallway toward her bedroom. "I would appreciate it if the account you gave me to your website remained open, but only put enough in the account so that I can watch the sessions. The beast got away from me last night. I don't want to risk that happening again. The temptation is too great." "I love you, Mom." I answered. Then I called down the hallway after her, "I'll have Harold set it up so you have open access to the sessions but can't join the player cue lists." "Thank you, honey," she replied. "I knew you would understand." Nothing much else really happened the rest of the day. Both Mom and I spent most of the day in bed. We were both exhausted. End of entry for Day Six Maddi's Diary, Day Seven, Thursday Mom went back to work today, so I had the house to myself. Dad won't be home until Saturday night because he left late and is running behind. Mom doesn't have to go do any training sessions until next week so she was home around six. We didn't really see each other, though, because I had to go back to work at the restaurant and my shift began at four. Yes, I did go back and watch the video from Tuesday night. What Mom did to me took 22 minutes, so there were 8 minutes of session left after my mind exploded. In the video it looks like I am screaming and writhing in extreme pain as the other players used up their points shocking my arms and legs and tits and ass, but the reality is that it was one, long, tear your mind and body apart orgasm. Mom was right. The beast was roaring in both of us last night. She was also right when she said that the temptation was too great. She knew that if she had the ability to do so, she would repeat what she did or worse. And I knew that if I let the beast roar like that within me constantly, I would probably be willing to let anyone do anything to me to get back to where I was Tuesday night. End of entry for Day Seven Maddi's Diary, Day Eight, Friday I worked a modified mid-day shift at the restaurant today so Mom and I had a chance to talk tonight. She asked me a very interesting question. She wanted to know why, if I could make so much money on the website and so forth, did I work as a waitress to make money for college. I had to think about it for a while, but then I told her that anything I make on the website goes into a special account that Harold set up for me. Everything I draw out, I put back into my toys. I never sign on to check the balance, but Harold says I could draw out a lot more. If I did that, however, and used it for college, how would I be different from a common whore? People pay money to hurt me and watch me in pain, but that is different. I don't do it for the money. I do it because I want to do it. It is actually a safe way for me to experience the pain I need. Making money from it is just a side benefit. But if I start spending the money on "real" things, like college, then I've become a pain-whore rather than a pain-slut. Somehow I think that is going to come up in group, or at least with Dr. B. End of entry for Day Eight Maddi's Diary, Day Nine, Saturday Today was morning shift, so I got off work around two. Shirley and Vicki called this afternoon and asked if I wanted to go out tonight. I told them I had to check my schedule and would call them right back. I actually wanted to check with Mom first. She suggested that I not be too late and that I be the designated driver for the evening. In other words, no booze and be home by ten. I called Vicki back and said that I would go out with them, but I couldn't drink and I had to be back really early. "Party pooper," she replied. Then she cried out in realization, "Oh! You're in trouble, aren't you? It must be pretty serious if you can't drink and have to be home early. Why don't you meet Shirl and me down at Juan Carlos around 8:00 and we can get eat and talk. Then you can head back home in time for curfew and us two will head out to do the wild things that you can't do." That's what I did. Juan Carlos' Pub is a relatively nice little bar that serves good food. We sat in a booth in the back. As soon as we sat down, Shirley said loud enough to be heard in the whole restaurant, "Girl, what did you do?!" Both she and Vicki laughed as I turned red and glanced around to see if everyone was looking at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell them anything at that point, but Vicki quietly said, "We're your friends. We'll understand. What happened and what kind of trouble are you in?" "Thirty-day out-patient psychiatric evaluation," I said as softly as I could. Both of them looked at me very wide eyed. "What DID you do?" Shirley asked again, but this time in a very quiet and concerned tone of voice. I looked at them debating whether to tell them the truth or a lie or come up with some combination thereof when suddenly I blurted out, "I got caught doing naked self-bondage on the ledge at the Miller Road underpass." Vicki was taking a sip of her beer and snorted it out through her nose. Shirley dissolved in laughter. "It's always the quiet ones who surprise you," she said. I waited for their laughter to stop and then added, "I was rigged up to a computer controlled TENS unit with electrodes in my cunt and ass and all over my body." Their eyes were wide once again. I shrugged and said, "The cops who found me think I'm nuts. I have thirty days to show them that I'm not." "Are you?" asked Vicki. "Am I what?" "Are you nuts?" clarified Vicki. "No," I answered, "I'm not nuts. I'm just kinky." "We all are, girl," replied Shirley. "You should meet some of my father's friends." She took a big sip of her beer and shrugged her shoulders, "Or for that matter," she added,"you should meet my mother in private around the house." Vicki looked over at Shirley with confusion apparent on her face. "Let's just say we all have secrets," Shirley continued. "This won't change anything between us. We will still be your friends." Vicki chuckled and said, "Well, it will change one thing." "What's that?" I asked. "We can't take you bar hopping or dive slumming for the next thirty days." she answered. "Actually," I replied, "I only have twenty-one days left. Besides, Dr. B isn't judgmental. As long as I write up everything in my diary, I can pretty much do anything that I want." "Wow," said Vicki, "this is almost like being on a reality show. Are you going to write up our meeting tonight? Do you have to take videos and everything?" I laughed and answered, "Not for this, but someday I will show you some videos that will blow your mind." "You're kidding, aren't you?" asked Shirley. I sipped my coke and smiled at both of them. "Maybe," I said. "Maybe." We all laughed. Just then the waiter showed up with our meals, so we ate and talked regular stuff until about 9:30. After that I headed back home and they headed out to the relatively less nice bars further down the strip. I got home around ten. Dad's truck was pulled up alongside the shed where he normally parked it. He was sitting in his chair in the living room when I walked into the house. He looked up at me as I came into the room and I said, "I'm home; I'm early; and I'm sober." "I didn't say anything," he replied. "But you left off the one that is really important." I looked at him in confusion. "You're safe," he said. "That is the important one for me." Neither of us had much to say after that. We sat and watched TV for a while and then I went to bed. End of entry for Day Nine Maddi's Diary, Day Ten, Sunday. Sunday was a totally uneventful day. Dad spent most of the morning doing maintenance on his truck. I helped Mom clean the house. Dad suggested that we go down to the lake for the afternoon. There is a nice beach there and it was a warm day, so I agreed. I think Dad was just trying to do something "normal," but we had a good time. Mom and I went into the water and raced out to the dive platform. She beat me by at least a body length. Later, a couple of boys I had never met before tried to pick me up. They suggested that we leave together and go get some beer and find someplace to party. I said, "If it's OK with my Dad," and pointed to Dad who was standing right beside me at the time. Both boys had disappeared down the beach before the laughter bubbled up out of me and Dad and Mom. It was a good afternoon. End of entry for Day Ten End of entry for Week Two = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF CHAPTER = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 UMPA Eleven http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952 BDSM Boot Camp http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11204 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Right or Wrong by The Technician Non-consensual, BDSM, Spanking, Anal, Game Show, Public Bondage, Public Humiliation, Public Shaving, Public Caning, Tawse, Betrayal = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Darius & Delores appear on a BDSM game show, Right or Wrong. When a couple just graduated from college and burdened with debt decide to appear on the BDSM-themed game show "Right or Wrong," interesting things happen. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2017 by The Technician ([email protected]). Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * "We can't go on that show!" Delores Tucker exclaimed. "We don't have the thousand dollar entry fee... ... and what if we're wrong!?" "We have at least that much coming in our income tax refund," Darius replied in his most soothing voice. Then he added, "And we don't have to go to the highest levels." Darius Evans was Delores' boyfriend of several years. Since they had lived together now for over three years, perhaps it would be better to call him her "significant other," but Delores hated that term. She always introduced him as her boyfriend. "Besides," he continued, "if we don't know the question, we can always take the money and walk away." "I don't know," she replied very warily, "we really need that refund. And besides, they do some really nasty things to people on that show." "But we could make enough in just one night to pay off all our bills," he countered. "We could maybe even win enough to buy a small house... or go on a really nice vacation." His voice turned almost syrupy sweet as he asked, "You'd really like that, wouldn't you, Butterbutt?" His use of his pet name for her was a very dangerous thing to do in an argument. If she was really mad at him, it would cause her to explode. She was sensitive about the size of her ass even though that was what Darius really loved about her. And she was almost ashamed of the fact that she loved anal. Bringing up her ass when she was angry was like throwing gasoline on a fire. He was willing to take the risk because it was more important to find out if she was really mad at him for bringing up Right or Wrong or if she was merely unsure or afraid about appearing on the BDSM-themed game show. "But what if we're wrong, Bullius?" she almost whined. Darius relaxed slightly and let a smile come to his face. She used her pet name for him. When they had first met in a college class, she made fun of his name and called him "Dairy Boy." That had infuriated him so much that he made it his goal for the rest of the semester to do everything he could to make her life miserable. Unfortunately it was a relatively small class, and, even more unfortunately, the professor believed that developing teamwork was an essential skill for success. The small class meant that everyone knew that they despised each other. The professor's beliefs meant that she had assigned them the course project as a joint action. Their desire to pass the course overcame their hatred for each other almost as they struggled to complete the project. It was a research project so it was possible to do most of the work independently. The other professors and various participants in their surveys signed off on their independent work but the final paper had to be a joint effort. They had each submitted several papers during the course of the class, so their professor knew their style and typical word usage. She would know if just one of them totally wrote the paper. Alternating chapters or any other plan like that would be just as obvious. They had to write this together. Darius had four roommates in his small apartment. Delores had only two roommates and a much larger apartment with a big kitchen, so it was decided that they would work together at her place. Both Delores and Darius really wanted to go south for Spring Break, but there was no other time that they could work together and the paper was due shortly after break. They had put it off long enough. It had to be written over Spring Break. After two days which had been spent primarily screaming at each other, one of Delores' roomies reached her limit. "You two are acting like little children!" she had yelled at them. "I should just lock you in the apartment and not let you out until you have decided to work together with each other." She had then said loudly, "Shelly and I are going to visit her parents for a few days so you two will have the apartment to yourselves for the rest of the week. If you two are still here and still alive when we get back, I'll assume you have worked out your differences." After the room mates had left, Darius said glumly, "Whether she locked us in or not, we are trapped here. We need to work out our differences so that we can get this paper written." Following that, they sat at the small table in the kitchen and stared at each other in silence. After a while a long while Delores said softly, "Why do you hate me?" Darius felt himself almost boiling. "You really don't know, do you?" he spat out. "No," Delores answered. Then she added angrily, "Why don't you tell me?" Darius stared at her in silence. He started to talk several times, but could not. Finally he blurted out, almost yelling, "You called me Dairy Boy!" Delores gasped. "I was teasing," she sputtered. "I always play games with people's names. Your name is Dari... us. I just changed it to Dari... boy. I didn't mean anything by it." He glowered at her. "You never call a black man boy!'" he spit out. "Oh," she said. "I'm so sorry. I really didn't know. I apologize for not knowing. I am so sorry." He continued to glower at her. "I apologized," she said softly. "Does that mean we can finish the paper?" "Words don't take away the hurt," he said angrily. "You may not have meant anything, but it meant something to me. You hurt me publicly. Private words don't fix that." "What about private punishment?" she asked softly. "You could, you know, punish me or something. Maybe giving me pain would take away the pain you're feeling." "So," he huffed, "I'm supposed to spank you or something and it will make up for everything?" "It might," she said. "And I would be willing to let you." She huffed and said, "At this point, I'd be willing to let you do almost anything to me just so we could get this damned paper finished." He looked over at her for a moment with his mouth moving almost as if he were chewing. "It would have to be on your bare ass," he said finally. "Why!?" she yelped. "What you did shamed me," he said heatedly. "I want you to feel shame as I spank you." He looked up at her. "If it wouldn't get us both arrested," he said firmly, "I would take you outside naked into the middle of the park and lay you over my lap on one of those benches and then whale on your ass until you were screaming for mercy." His voice dropped slightly as he continued, "You shamed me in front of the whole class, I should be able to punish you and shame you in public also." He gave a short, heavy sigh and added, "...but I guess I'll have to settle for some private shaming." Delores stood in front of him and slid her jeans down to the floor. She then started to lay herself across his lap. "I said on a bare ass," he said sternly. "I can't do it," she answered at almost a whisper. Her voice was trembling as she said, "I can't bring myself to take them off in front of you." "Then I'll do it," he replied. "But if I do it, I take off everything." "I can't do it," she repeated. Her voice was now quivering as she spoke. Darius stood back up and grabbed her knit blouse by the bottom and pulled it up over her head. He then sat down. "Your choice. You take off your panties or I take off everything." She lay down over his lap and said once again, "I can't do it." "OK," he replied and reached over to the clasp on her bra. "Last chance," he said as he pulled on the clasp. Delores just whimpered lightly, so Darius opened the bra and pulled it off her shoulders. Her breasts now hung down beneath her. The cool of the room caused her nipples to immediately harden and she whimpered once again. Darius then stuck his fingers into the waistband of her panties. She gasped slightly, but lifted herself off his lap so he could slide the panties down her legs. She then bent her legs at the knees, putting her full weight on his lap, so that he could pull the panties the rest of the way off her legs. He patted the rounded globes of her ass. "You've actually got a nice ass," he said. "Your ass was the first thing I noticed about you. I really wanted to get to know you because of that ass, but then you called me boy'!" He wasn't sure if he had intended to smack her asscheek loudly as he shouted out that last part, but that is exactly what he did. Then he struck harder. And then harder still. With each resounding smack, he said more loudly, "You called me boy'!" Darius wasn't sure when it was that he stopped yelling that at her. He also wasn't sure how many smacks he had given her when she started moaning and squirming on his lap. He was now smacking each asscheek alternately. Delores would give a slight yelp as the blow struck, but then she would take a short, noisy, intake of breath. "This is turning you on!" he exclaimed. "You goaded me into doing this because you get off on it!" "No!" she sobbed. "I've never been spanked before. I've never even thought about getting spanked. I didn't know it would do this to me." She sobbed again and then said softly, "But it does. Please don't stop. I'm sorry. I didn't know it would do this, but please, don't stop. I need to cum so badly." She sobbed again as she said, "Please take me over the top." Darius returned to spanking her with renewed vigor. Her ass was bright red and moving rapidly toward purple, but an orgasm was building within her. She started calling out "Ahh, ahh, ahh," with each spank, but the "Ahh's" rapidly became "Uhh's" which soon morphed into a shrill scream which seemed to go on forever as did her orgasm. When she had finally stopped screaming and thrashing, Darius held her on his lap and ran his hands across her inflamed asscheeks. As he slid his fingers up and down her asscheeks, Delores once again began to pant. When Darius slid one finger down the crack between her asscheeks she responded with a loud, passionate, "Aaaahhhh!" "Oh, God!" she said hoarsely. "I need you inside me!" He moved his fingers down and began to slide them along the edges of her labia. "No," she said breathlessly, "in the back... in the back." He moved his fingers back between her asscheeks and pushed slightly against her puckered rosebud. When she called out, "Yeeesssss!" he asked softly, "Do you have any lube?" "No," she sobbed back. Darius looked frantically around the room looking for anything he could use for lube and then realized that the remnants of an earlier snack was still on the table, including a half-stick of room temperature butter. He continued to stroke her back crack with his right hand while at the same time stretching over with his left hand to pick up the butter. He smeared the butter across her asscheeks and then down through the crack between them. As he slid his hands across her inflamed globes, Delores cried out incoherently, her voice becoming louder and more shrill. When he smeared more butter down her crack she moaned loudly and her whole body shuddered. His finger entered her ass and she cried out "Aaaiieee!" But it was a cry of pleasure, not a cry of pain. Then she began moaning, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Despite the raging hard-on that was about to tear through his pants, Darius knew he had to loosen her up before trying to penetrate her. He continued to pump in and out with his finger and Delores continued her chant of "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" in time with his finger's movements. When he changed to two fingers her voice became lower and almost hoarse. At three fingers, it was becoming difficult to understand what she was saying. Finally she was ready and he said, "Lie over the table." Delores stood and bent over the kitchen table. Darius frantically removed his pants and moved to stand behind her. He tried to start slow, but as soon as the tip of his prick touched her rosebud, she rammed herself back against him, burying his manhood deep within her. She then lay on the table moaning. Darius took his time, pulling back very slowly and then moving back in even slower. Delores was now moaning and babbling incoherently. The only words which could be understood were when she said "harder" or "faster," which she eventually began chanting over and over again. Her calls egged Darius on until he was ramming into her hard enough for the slap of his abdomen against her ass to sound almost like the earlier spanking. Finally they both reached the point of release. Delores gave one last scream and collapsed on the tabletop. Darius collapsed on top of her and started laughing. "Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God," she started yelling. "What have we done?" "I'd say we found a way to work together," Darius said. Then he added with a laugh, "Butterbutt." "And I found out you were are hung like a bull, Bullius," she replied. They aced the paper and the course and shortly thereafter moved in together. But things had not been easy. Darius was not always Bullius. He would occasionally go into long periods of depression and lose all interest in sex. Even moreso, he would lose all interest in finishing school, in getting a job, even in life itself. Some days he would hide in the apartment with all of the shades drawn claiming that someone was after him. Something was just wrong, but despite her pleading, Darius would not go to a doctor. Then a few days later, he would be back to his normal, loving self. Delores graduated with honors, but turned down several good job opportunities to remain near the university so Darius could finish his degree. Somehow, he always managed to not quite meet the requirements. Since she was working in a less-than-perfect job, and he was working only a few hours a week, their money problems multiplied. Then in one of his manic-fueled periods, Darius came up with the idea of appearing on Right or Wrong. Right or Wrong was a television game show that appeared on the adult cable channels. The whole show was BDSM-based and way past R-rated. The host was called Master Arnold. His two assistants were called Mistress Olivia and Mistress Makala. The rest of the staff and stage hands were referred to as slaves. Most of them were totally naked. Many were hairless. Master Arnold was always dressed in black leather normally a pair of black leather pants with a black leather vest. Occasionally he would have a white shirt of some sort under the vest, but normally the vest was over his bare chest. Mistress Olivia wore a full-body black catsuit which highlighted her extremely pale face. It also revealed every curve and crevice of her body. Everyone assumed she was a blond, but viewers were never sure because her hair was always concealed by the suit. Mistress Makala wore a modified dominatrix outfit made of shiny, white leather. White fishnet stockings covered her legs and white gloves reached up to her elbows. With her deeply black skin, she looked almost like a negative of what one would expect a dominatrix be. Her voice and attitude, however, were pure dom. The purpose of the show was very simple. Gullible couples came on the show hoping to win big money. Sometimes they did, but usually they ended up paying the forfeit for the questions until they could stand no more. One partner of the couple would answer the questions. The other would be restrained in a big frame facing the audience. Obviously, the one in the frame was the one who was putting their ass on the line literally. There was a required entrance fee of one thousand dollars. This had two purposes. It established a legal contract that protected the producers of the show from law suits. And two, it started the contestant with $1000 on the board. Questions were worth up to $100,000, but the forfeit for a wrong answer at that point could be very severe. After doing considerable research into the rules and background of Right or Wrong, Delores agreed that they would go on the show. Darius also convinced her that he would answer the questions since he always won every trivia contest at any bar they went to. That meant that she would be the one in the frame subject to the penalties. Taping for the show was done once every three months. The audition and approval process for them was fairly rapid since the show was based in the same city as the university. There were a series of forms which had to be filled out that asked some VERY personal questions. It was the first time that Delores had ever written down that she liked being spanked and loved anal sex. One of the questions bothered her, though. It asked if she had ever cheated on her boyfriend or if he had ever cheated on her. She asked Darius how he had answered that one and he said, "I don't remember that question... must not have thought it was important." The final selection was based on a rehearsal show with other staff playing the part of Master Arnold and the two Mistresses. Primarily they were trying to see how Darius would respond to the questions and how Delores would respond to the restraint frame. She had to stand in the frame and hold the restraints but was not secured in place. At one point, after Darius missed a question, one of the staff members came around behind Delores and smacked her lightly on the ass. Her intake of breath rather than a cry of surprise or pain told them all they needed to know. They were approved at contestants. *** The day of taping, Darius and Delores were kept offstage in a small waiting room until their episode came up in the schedule. They could not see the other contestants, but they could occasionally hear a woman or a man scream out in pain. When that occurred, they could also hear the studio audience cheering wildly. Finally it came their turn. They were escorted to the edge of the stage and told to wait quietly in the darkness until they were called onto the stage. They waited nervously, holding hands, until the announcer called out loudly, "Let's give a great Right or Wrong hand for our next contestants, Darius and Delores!" The audience cheered and applauded and the stage manager gave both of them a hard push in their backs to get them moving. Mistress Olivia met them as soon as they stepped into the lights and escorted them to the proper positions. She pointed down at two marks on the floor where they were supposed to stand. Unlike the Xs used in the audition, these marks were a whip and a crop crossed and tied together with the lash of the whip. Delores felt a knot form in her stomach as what they were doing became real for her. "Welcome to our dungeon," Master Arnold called out loudly. "Darius and Delores," he continued, "which of you is going to be facing our test of your mind and which of you is putting your ass on the line?" It was exactly the same question he asked exactly the same way with each pair of contestants. The audience always applauded loudly when he asked it, even if the applause signs were not blinking. "He's answering the questions," Delores said. She was surprised at how timid her voice sounded. "In that case," Master Arnold said in his best announcer voice, "Delores, would you please step into the restraint frame?" A large, square, black metal frame descended from the darkness above the stage and landed on the stage floor with an audible "Thump!" The frame was approximately eight feet on each side. The bottom of the frame was about two feet wide while the rest of the frame consisted of what looked like four-inch steel pipes with small hooks and loops welded to it at regular intervals all the way around. Delores stepped out of her shoes as she had been told to do and positioned herself in the center of the frame. Another requirement of the show was that all women wear skirts. The skirts had to be "modest," which was defined as touching the leg no less that one inch above the top of the kneecap. Underwear and a bra was also specified. Once she was in place, Mistress Olivia and Mistress Makala pushed small ladders over near the frame and told Delores to stand with her feet together and put her hands in the air. Each grabbed an arm and slipped a leather gauntlet glove over her arm which went all the way to the elbow. They then used Velcro fasteners to pull it tightly onto her arm before pulling her arms wide. Then they used a short chain to connect the restraint to the upper bar of the frame. As they stepped back down from their ladders, one of them said to her, "It helps if you hold onto the chain." They then attached wide leather restraints to her ankles and used ropes to connect them to the bottom corners of the frame. They used a complex double slip knot often called a "trucker's knot" to tie them to the very bottom loop on the side of the frame. Then they pulled the slip knots tighter stretching her legs as wide as possible. This also pulled her lower and tightened the pull on her arms from above. She was now in a very tight X in the middle of the frame. Early in the life of the program, the contestant in the frame was also gagged, but it was soon discovered that the audience and the ratings responded much better to the loud screams when the contestants were wrong and had to pay the forfeit. Once Delores was securely in place facing the audience, the electronic board behind Master Arnold changed to reveal the ten categories for this game's questions. The forfeit, except for the first level, was blank. That forfeit was the $1000 entry fee. The first thing Darius had to do was to arrange the ten categories. Most contestants put the hardest categories first so that if they missed them the forfeit was the smallest. The first level was normally just the entry fee. The second level was almost always clothing. The third often was all body hair. After that it was difficult to predict. After a few minutes, he spoke. "I want the categories in this order," he said, "The Wild West, World Geography, US Landmarks, Famous Hollywood Deaths, Awards, Food, The Human Body, Superstitions, Sports, and Presidential Names" Delores began thrashing in her restraints. "What are you doing?!" she yelled out. He knew nothing about Presidents and was an avid student of western history. He had put the easiest of the categories first. Master Arnold laughed and said, "It sounds like your partner disagrees with your arrangement." He laughed again. "But that's too bad because once she is in the frame she is at your mercy." The whole audience laughed and then cheered and whistled. He waited for the audience to quiet down and then said, "Here is our first question from the Wild West category, What famous wild west outlaw moved back east to New York and became a sports writer for a newspaper?" Darius looked like he was thinking seriously. He even rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Doc Holliday?" he said. It sounded more like a question than a definite answer. "I'm sorry," Master Arnold said with mock sorrow. "But YOU ARE WRONG!" "You knew that!" Delores screamed. "How could you get that wrong? You've told me at least a dozen times about how Bat Masterson wrote for the New York Morning Telegraph." "Wow," Master Arnold continued, "maybe the wrong one is in the frame." He turned to the audience and said with a sneer. "But that's too bad because it's too late to change now." When the audience laughter ended, he said to Darius. "You've lost your thousand dollars. This next question either wins you five thousand or Delores loses her clothes. Are you going to play or walk away?" "I've got to win the money back," he said. "We'll play." "Here's the question," intoned Master Arnold, "in the World Geography category. What is the only nation which covers an entire continent?" Delores' eyes were wide and her head was nodding up and down. Darius knew this one. They had been to Australia and one of the things that was emphasized by the guides was that it was the only country that was more both a nation and a continent. Darius again stroked his chin as if thinking and then said "The United States?" "Wrong!" called out Master Arnold. Delores let out a long, anguished scream. And the audience gave a very loud cheer. They began cheering and clapping once again as Mistress Olivia and Mistress Makala walked over to the frame with electric scissors. They started with her skirt and cut thin strips of it off all the way around, letting the cloth fall onto the floor. When the skirt barely covered her ass, they turned to her blouse, also cutting thin strips so that it became shorter and shorter. When the bottoms of the bra cups became visible, they reached inside the blouse and pulled the straps up through the neck opening. Each cut one side and then Mistress Olivia reached up inside the shortened blouse and cut up the back of the bra. She stepped back and let it fall down Delores' body where it landed on the wide floor of the frame. They then went back to working on her skirt, cutting it higher and higher until there was nothing left but the waistband. This time it was Mistress Makala who administered the coup de gras and cut vertically up through the narrow piece of cloth. The next to go were the sleeves of the blouse... and then the shoulders... and then the top of the blouse so that there was nothing left but a two-inch strip of cloth balanced on the tip of Delores' breasts, held in place by her nipples. Mistress Olivia made a big show of cutting upward between Delores' breasts and the last tattered remnant of the blouse fluttered to the floor. Delores was now crying in shame as she stood in nothing but her panties in the frame. The cool air caused her nipples to harden and extend. Something else was causing her panties to become damp as Mistress Olivia and Mistress Makala began picking up the various pieces of cloth from the floor of the stage. Once all the scraps were removed, they both walked off stage. When they returned, they were each carrying an oversize pair of scissors like would be used to cut the ribbon at a store's grand opening. Walking to either side of Delores, they slid the scissors up into the sides the panties and stood waiting. Master Arnold stepped to the front of the stage and said, "OK, audience, lets give it a ten countdown." The audience began chanting, "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, ONE!" On one, both Mistresses pushed the scissors together cutting through the sides of the underwear. With her legs pulled so wide apart, Delores was unable to keep the remnants of her panties from fluttering to the stage. "Well," Master Arnold shouted loudly, "now we know that Delores is a not a natural blonde." After the audience quit laughing, he returned to his position in front of the big screen and said, "OK now, Darius, we are up to the third question. This category, US Landmarks, is worth ten thousand dollars. The forfeit is either the loss of all your partner's body hair or ten strokes with a cane, depending on the roll of our electronic dice. Do you play or do you walk?" "Walk," Delores shouted. "You said we would walk before things got too bad." "Well, we know what your partner wants, don't we?" Master Arnold said, "But her vote doesn't count. This is totally up to you." "That is so WRONG!" Delores wailed. "So was you cheating on me with James," Darius called back. "We will go on." There was a loud "Oooooh" from the audience and then Master Arnold asked, "Are you ready?" "Double!" cried Darius. There was another loud "Oooooh" from the audience. "This means," Master Arnold said, "that you want to double the ten thousand to twenty thousand so that we skip the next category. But if you are wrong, then both forfeits apply and they are doubled. Plus," he continued, "you get the forfeit for the next level which is twenty with a tawse." "Yes!" Darius said firmly. "I double." "The question is," Master Arnold continued, "What building is pictured on the back of an American twenty-dollar bill?" After a few minutes Darius responded, "The Lincoln Memorial." "Wrong!" cried Master Arnold. "It is the White House." Mistress Olivia and Mistress Makala again came scampering on stage. This time one was carrying a beard trimmer and the other was carrying a can of shaving cream and several safety razors. It only took Mistress Olivia a few swipes to shear Delores' pubic fleece. Then Mistress Makala began smearing shaving cream between her legs. A few moments later, she wiped the shaving cream away and called out, "Clean as a baby's twat." "But we have a double forfeit," Master Arnold called out as he walked over carrying a larger, battery-powered hair clipper. A stagehand hustled over with a short stepladder and Master Arnold climbed to the top and began cutting Delores' hair from her head. When he was finished, he said, "Mistress Olivia," and she took his place at the top of the steps. She used the beard trimmer to remove Delores' eyebrows. Then Mistress Makala took her place and smeared shaving cream all over the top of Delores' head. "Better close your eyes," she said sweetly as she smeared additional foam where Delores' eyebrows once were. She then went to work with her razors. When she was done, Delores' head almost shone in the glare of the stage light. Her entire body was now wracked with sobs. Master Arnold walked back to the center of the stage while Mistress Olivia stood on one side of Delores with a long, thin, whippy cane. Mistress Makala stood on the other side with a short- handled tawse. Mistress Olivia whipped the cane up and down almost violently. It whirred and hummed almost like a huge angry wasp. Then she pulled her arm all the way back and swung toward Delores. The cane again hissed through the air and then slammed loudly into Delores' asscheeks. "Aiiieee" she screamed. When her cry had faded, the audience shouted, "One." Delores screamed out nine more times before the audience called out "Ten." Then Mistress Makala began swinging the tawse back and forth. It didn't make near the noise the cane made moving through the air, but the "Thwack!" of the split piece of leather slamming into Delores' left asscheek was much louder than the slap of the cane had been. The scream which Delores made was also louder. The audience counted, "One." Delores screamed again and again and again. Her voice was becoming hoarse by the time the crowd finally called out "Twenty." Delores hung sobbing in the restraint frame. "Please Darius," she called out, "end this. I didn't cheat on you. All I was doing was tutoring James with his history class. We needed the extra money to pay bills. He's on the football team and the school was paying me to keep him eligible." "Next question," Darius called out. Master Arnold walked back to in front of the display and said, "We are jumping to the thirty thousand dollar question in the category Famous Hollywood Deaths. Are you ready, Darius?" Before he could answer, Delores called out loudly, "Double!" "Whoa!" Master Arnold called out. "We've never had that happen before, but the rules say that if the person in the restraint calls the double, then they get to answer the question." Darius looked over at Delores in the frame and said loudly, "Double double." The audience began cheering wildly. "This truly has never happened before," Master Arnold shouted. "The question goes back to Darius, but the forfeit is double the next four categories." Darius looked over at Delores in the frame. She glowered back at him in hatred. She had made excuses for him long enough. After this they were through. She took a deep breath and then shouted out "Ultimate! All in!" "Wait a minute," Master Arnold said slowly. "I have to make sure that you realize exactly what you are saying. Ultimate' or All in' means that the question comes back to you and you are going for four times our top prize. If you are right you get four hundred thousand dollars. But if you are wrong, both you AND YOUR PARTNER receive four times all of the remaining forfeits. In addition, you and your partner will both become personal slaves of this show meaning the Mistresses and myself for the next four years. Is that what you really want?" "Ultimate! All in!" Delores repeated loudly. Mistress Olivia and Mistress Makala rushed over to stop Darius from running off the stage. A moment later a second restraint frame thudded to the stage floor. Even with him attempting to struggle, they easily restrained him in identical fashion to Delores after which they again returned with the electric clippers. They weren't as dramatic about it, but shortly thereafter all of his clothing was stripped from his body. A few minutes later, his hair both from his head and from his crotch had joined his clothing on the stage floor. The audience was shouting and screaming loudly as they used the cane and tawse to bring him to the same level as Delores. Once his cries and sobs had finally diminished, Master Arnold stepped up in front of the frame holding Delores. "Now that you and your partner are equal participants in this, we are jumping to the final category of Presidential Names," he said gravely. "This is a very difficult question, so we are going to give you forty-five seconds to answer. What was Rutherford B. Hayes middle name?" Delores smiled. She had grown up in Fremont, Ohio, which was Hayes' home town. The library there was called the Birchard library in honor of his mother's family, who had helped found the town. The B in Rutherford B. Haye's name was his mother's maiden name. She looked over at Darius. It was over now between them. He had intentionally answered incorrectly so she would suffer. She would have to find someone new to spank her and take her in the ass. As she thought that, the pain which was still burning in her ass began to change into the pulses of pleasure she had once felt at the hands of Bullius. Her mind was in turmoil. She waited almost to the end of the forty-five seconds to shout out her answer. When she did, the audience cheered loudly. But did she answer right? Or wrong? = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 UMPA Eleven http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952 BDSM Boot Camp http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11204 New: The Mansion Club http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11995 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Churning Butter by The Technician Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Extraterrestrial Sex = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Two Chicago detectives solve a series of rapes in the windy city. This is more of a sci-fi story with sexual overtones than a sexual story with sci-fi overtones. If you want more sexual content, read some of my other stories. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2014 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * The bright blue Ford compact glided smoothly to a stop at the curb in front of a run down bar in an even more run down area of the city. It was supposed to be an unmarked car, but the blue police lights clearly seen mounted on the dashboard and in the rear window gave things away rather badly. Besides that, shortly after the city of Chicago put several dozen of these identical "blend in with the traffic" vehicles on the road, there were at least a dozen YouTube posts showing them with their lights flashing, pulling over motorists or responding to calls. With the easily recognized color and the visible lights, they might as well have had been painted white with the blue stripe on the sides and CHICAGO POLICE in big, red letters. It didn't make much difference anyway. Detectives Katrina Ecstranger and Melvin Beckermann were not undercover or trying to sneak up on anyone. They were working a major case and someone had called in what sounded like a good tip. The late-afternoon call had come from the owner of a dive called Clancy's Place. He told the desk officer that he would be tending bar "all day and half the night," and that they should send somebody down to talk to him. This wasn't an area of town a cop wanted to be in after dark without backup, so the wise choice was to follow up on the lead immediately. They walked quickly into the bar with Katrina staying several steps behind her partner just in case this was some sort of trap. Moving from the bright sunlight of the street into the dim darkness of a sleazy bar always had a certain pucker factor to it since you were basically defenseless until your eyes adjusted to the darkness. Keeping one eye closed as you walked from the car to the front door helped, but still, if this was a set up, things could go south very quickly. The bar, however, was empty except for Harvey, the bartender and owner. He was the one who had called the station house earlier with "maybe a tip on this Full Moon Rapist guy." Behind their backs around the station house, detectives Katrina Ecstranger and Melvin Beckermann were known as Tom and Jerry. "Tom" because Katrina told everyone to call her "Kat," had a cat-like face, and always moved with lithe, almost feline movements. "Jerry" because Mel's rather pointed noise and almost permanent smile made him look very much like the cartoon mouse of that name. Mel leaned against the bar and waited for Harvey to start the conversation while Kat stayed closer to the door to cover things. After a long silence, Kat finally said from across the room, "So, Harvey, what have you got for us?" "I'm sure this is nothing," he replied, glancing nervously up at Mel, "but youse guys have been coming in here couple times a month for the past year asking if I've heard anything unusual. You know, somebody bragging about what they done... that sort of thing. You even said that if I got something there might be a reward in it for me. "This can't be anything, but it...., hell, I don't know... it just struck me as really odd. There's this little nothing of a guy. Must work or live in the area cause he's been coming in here about five every day for eight or nine months. Doesn't say much. Just sits here drinking beers all evening. Not drunk, ya' know, but getting a real buzz on by the end of the night. Yesterday, I tells him, You need to watch how much you're knocking back or you're going to end up having to go to those monthly meetings.'" He glanced down nervously and wiped the bar with the rag in his hand. "I was just kidding him, you know..., in a friendly sort of way, to tell him to watch how much he was putting down. This is a family place regardless of what it looks like. I don't really need barflies and drunks, but he didn't seem like that either... Anyway, he says to me, They don't have meetings for what I'm addicted to...' "He looked really sad, almost desperate, so I says, They got meetings for everything. What's your particular brand of trouble?' "He downs the rest of his beer, lays his money on the bar, and gets up and starts to walk towards the door. Just before he goes out, he turns back to me and says, Churning butter under a full moon.'" "Like I say, it can't be anything, but he said full moon,' and youse guys have been driving me nuts about anybody who says anything weird about the full moon cause you don't got no leads on this Full Moon Rapist guy." "You don't happen to have security cameras, do you, Harvey?" asked Mel. "In this dump?" He snorted. "There's an ATM across the street. Last time I got held up, youse guys got a clear shot of the punk who did it off them tapes. Maybe there's a picture of the little weirdo over there." "We will check that out," said Detective Ecstranger. "And if it turns out that there is anything to this, you'll get a portion of the reward." "What's it up to?" asked the barman. "Last I heard it was over a million. Wouldn't mind getting a big piece of that." "If this weirdo has anything to do with the Full Moon Rapist, you will get something. It will depend on how important your tip has been to the case." Just before Mel walked out the door, Harvey spoke up one last time, "Oh yeah... I shoulda told ya. He will probably be here tonight, but definitely not tomorrow night. He might stop by for a quick one tomorrow, but he won't stay. Moon's almost full, ya' know, and he ain't never in here on the night of the full moon... always leaves before it gets dark." *** As the two detectives walked back to their car, Mel stopped and turned to his partner. "So what do you think?" he asked. "Doesn't sound like the type of person who could overpower twenty-some women and several men over the course of the past three years, but he said the magic words and disappears on the night of the full moon." " Full moon' could be a coincidence," answered Kat, "But it has never been released that the rapist uses butter as a lubricant and to screw up DNA testing. Lab boys say it shouldn't interfere with DNA tests, but somehow it does. They can't get anything human to try for a match. And Churning butter under a full moon' is too good a description of what is happening. He's got something to do with it, even if he isn't our perp." They had reached the car. Mel triggered the door locks and they both slid into the seats. Kat was unusually quiet. Her breathing was a little heavier than normal. Mel noticed, but said nothing. Mel noticed a great deal. He was a good detective, and good detectives notice everything. He and Kat had been partners for three years now and had been working this case as point on the task force for over a year. He knew that the case affected Kat deeply. It affected him too. It was almost personal. Someone had been raping woman... and men... in his city, once a month for the past 40 months and the police were no closer to catching him now than they were three years ago when he first started. Over the past year, Mel and Kat had watched or listened repeatedly to the interview tapes with the victims. The story was always the same. It was a full moon. They were in a relatively deserted area of some sort where they thought they were safe. One woman was in a park. One woman was on the roof of a building. One man was in his own home. Each thought that they were alone. They all insisted that they neither saw nor heard anyone approaching them when they were suddenly knocked to the ground by something large and heavy being thrown against them. "It was like a large bag of sand" one of the victims had described it. "It knocked me off my feet, and the next thing I knew I was lying naked on the ground." Another said, "I was in the garden in my back yard, and I thought I was safe because it's totally walled off with a heavy gate that I keep locked. But somehow, whoever it was got in without me seeing or hearing him. I don't know how long I was lying on the ground, but I know it had to be several minutes. I must have hit my head because it was like I was stunned or something and I don't remember him taking off my clothes. As I came back to my senses I could feel something cold being inserted into my ass. It felt slimy. Then something slick was being rubbed on my body, especially on my breasts and buttocks." Mel especially remembered one victim had trembled and looked down at the ground describing the attack. "It almost felt good," she said in a quivering voice. "I am so ashamed. It felt soooo good. Despite what was happening, my body was responding. And then I felt his tongue on me. He was licking me. I've had oral sex before, but this was different. It felt really odd. His tongue was longer... and rougher than it should have been. And it wriggled strangely inside of me... both in the front and in the back." She broke down and cried for several minutes. The female officer conducting the interview waited patiently for her to finish and then asked, "Can you continue? We really do need as much detail as you can remember." "I am so ashamed," she repeated. "I was so turned on. Am I a bad person?" The interviewing officer remained silent, but put a hand on the victim's shoulder to show support and then asked her to go on. She continued, "I felt him pull me up into a kneeling position." She suddenly looked startled and looked up at the camera that was recording the interview. "He had gloves on! I had forgotten that. Really strange gloves that were soft and rough at the same time. Something on the gloves almost scratched me, like there was metal or something somewhere on the fingers. Then he entered me from behind. I've never had anal sex before. I thought it would hurt, but it felt good. He was rubbing me with something soft between my legs. It felt like a fuzzy rope. Despite myself, I kept going higher and higher. Suddenly I started to orgasm and he pulled out of my backside and thrust himself into my front. He made a really strange sort of screeching kind of yell as he ejaculated into me." She sat quietly for a moment before finishing. "Then he was gone. I lay on the ground in my garden for a little while pulling myself together, and then I got up and went back inside my house and called the police." There were several more minutes of video of her sitting there quietly crying. The interviews with the other victims told pretty much the same story. One woman said that whatever hit her felt and smelled like an oversized version of the scented wheat bag she used for neck pain. "There was definitely the smell of lavender," she had said. "The smell was overwhelming as soon as the bag hit me. It felt like a sack full of grain, but it was like the grain in the sack was moving around me. When I smelled the lavender, I felt really calm. Then I passed out." The most recent victim, a man, said that the rapist tried to disguise his voice by speaking in almost a growl. "He kept growling softly in my ear as he raped my ass. He kept saying, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. It would have been better if I had died in the crash like everyone else. I can't control myself here..., and I am so alone.'" After they watched that particular interview, Detective Beckermann turned to his partner and asked, "What in the hell do you think he meant by that, Kat." But Detective Ecstranger didn't answer. Her eyes were wide open and her hands were clenched tightly on the lip of the table which held the video monitor. She seemed to be quivering almost as if in a mild epileptic seizure. "Kat, are you OK?" Mel asked. She spoke slowly and softly, almost as if she were speaking to herself, "He's not alone, but he doesn't know it. He was NOT the only survivor." "What in the hell do you mean by that?" sputtered Mel, and Kat just stared at him. She would do that once in a while seem to go inside herself. That was one of the primary reasons that her previous partners had requested she be re-assigned. "Watch her," one former partner had warned Mel. "She gets creepy as all hell at her time of the month, but she's a damn good detective the rest of the time. Captain thought seriously about getting her dismissed at one point, but was afraid of how it would look if he complained about a woman's severe PMS." Kat definitely got weird once in a while... actually about every 28 days, but it was usually in those fits of weirdness that she came up with her best insight into their cases. Mel had been a good, but not outstanding detective before pairing up with her. Now he had one of the best case closure rates in the department, and most of that was because his partner was "the cat." Fellow officers joked about them behind their backs, but when a case was going very cold or started out more baffling than usual, the precinct captain, or sometimes even someone from downtown, would say, "Let's send the cat over there and see what she sniffs out." Mel and Kat looked, and often acted, like a station house joke, but "Tom and Jerry" solved cases, and that was what was important. So Mel's odd looks and bumbling ways and Kat's weirdness and periodic missed days were tolerated by fellow officers and the precinct captain. When they were put on the Full Moon Rapist Task Force, it was expected that they would soon help break the case. But almost a year had passed and they were no closer to solving this case than before. Harvey the bartender's strange tip was, in many ways, the best lead they had yet received. *** As they drove back to the station, Kat broke her silence and said quietly. "This will be over soon, but the case will never be officially closed." She looked over at her partner and smiled. Somehow her smile made her look even more cat-like. "I'm sorry," she continued, "but that's the way it's going to have to be." She looked down at her smart phone and opened an app of some sort. Mel started to ask what she had meant when suddenly she almost yelled, "We have to go back to the bar. Harvey was wrong! Tonight's the full moon, not tomorrow! His sense of smell will be heightened. He'll know that I have been there! He'll run and never return! We'll lose him!" She looked frantic. "But I might be able to get a message to him before my scent..." Her voice trailed off as she saw Mel's startled face. "You're getting weirder than usual," he said slowly. "Going to let me in on what is goin'on?" Kat stared back at him for a long time. "Mel," she began, "do you remember right after we became partners and you checked up on me?" He said nothing, though surprise showed on his face that she was aware that he had called an old buddy of his on the Philadelphia PD to ask about her. "You asked one of your contacts in Philly what I was like when I was on the force there and he said he had never heard of me. A few days later, he called you back and said I had just slipped his mind, but he had talked to some of the officers who had worked with me." Mel still said nothing. "He was lying to you. He knew nothing about me until federal agents called on him and told him what to say. I'm in sort of a witness protection program. I'm a very good cop with a very wide range of experience, but I've never been on the force in Philly." Mel pulled up in front of the bar. "And you couldn't even tell your partner?" he asked. "You would never understand unless you've seen me naked," she said with almost a laugh. "And that ain't never gonna happen." "I don't need the past," he said as they again walked toward the bar, "I just need to know what it has to do with this case." "Harvey's barfly is the perp," she answered. "But he can never be arrested. He needs to be taken into the same program that I am in..., but as a prisoner, not a guest. The feds will handle it. The rapes will stop, but we can never arrest him or say anything specific about him to the public or the rest of the department." Mel followed her into the bar in silence. As soon as they were inside, she called out, "Harvey, I need you to do something for us." She walked up to the bar and picked up one of the large, cork coasters that advertised a particular brand of beer. She began writing strange symbols on it with the felt-tipped pen she normally carried to mark evidence bags. Then she pulled Harvey up over the bar by his shirt so that their faces were just inches apart. "As soon as he comes in the door, you yell this out to him. You tell him, A Butter Cat left you a message.' and hold up this coaster so he can see it. He's going to be surprised by what you say and not sure that you actually said it, so you repeat yourself. Hold up this coaster so he can see it and say again, A Butter Cat left you a message.' You have to say that as soon as he enters the door." She released her hold on Harvey's shirt and said a bit more softly. "He will probably leave as soon as he gets the message. If this works, I will see to it that you get a big chunk of the reward. ... But if you ever tell anybody else anything about this you won't get a dime and you will probably never be seen again." Harvey stared at her blankly. She pulled him back up to her face once again. "Do you understand me?" she asked. Her voice was now almost a snarl. Harvey blinked his eyes and shook his head yes. Mel also blinked. For a minute it looked as if Kat's face was furry and her teeth appeared to be long and pointed. Harvey was now standing back from the bar. His eyes were wide open. He was trying to speak, but having no real success. Finally, he found his voice and stammered out, "I'll tell him. I'll tell him as soon as he sticks his face through that door." As they left the bar, Kat staggered slightly and then caught herself. "Mel," she said as soon as they go into the car, "you have to get me home immediately. It is way too close to the full moon and that bar was saturated with his pheromones. No one can see me like this. If I lose control, call the number on my phone that I have listed as Emergency X." Mel felt something sharp dig into his skin and looked down at the steering wheel. A furry hand was wrapped around his arm, long claws digging slightly into his skin. He looked over at Kat. Her face was covered with a fine, tawny fur. She was meowling lightly. Her voice was distorted, but she was clear that she was saying, "Please don't let anyone see me like this. Don't let them see me." She was almost crying as she said, "You don't know what's at stake." He looked around quickly and stopped the car. They were in a deserted block and there was no traffic. "Get in back," he said quickly. "And lay down on the seat. Leave your phone up here." Minutes later they were racing toward Kat's house in the suburbs. The meowling from the back seat was now long, loud, and drawn out. Mel picked up Kat's phone and scrolled the call list looking for the right number. Finally he found it and pressed CALL. It was answered almost immediately with a very calm, professional voice which said, "What is the nature of your emergency?" "This is Detective Melvin Beckermann. Katrina Ecstranger is my partner. I have a cat in heat in the back seat of my squad car and she suggested I call you." The voice on the other end of the call was no longer calm. "Shit! Are you in public? Can you get her home unseen?" "She is in the back seat of the car. No one can see her. I can get her home, but I'm not sure I can get her into the house unseen." "Good so far," answered the voice on the phone. "Someone will meet you at the house. Pull into the garage. It will be open. It is connected directly to the house. Stay at the house with Kat and the person who meets you. Someone will come by later and read you in. Do I need to tell you not to tell anyone about this?" "Like anyone would believe me," snorted Mel as he ended the call. Then he yelled over the seat, "Hang in there, Kat. I'll get you home." "His pheromones are affecting me badly," she answered. "I'm losing control. Get me downstairs into the room with the thick doors. Force me in there if you have to and lock me in. When he gets here tell him where I am." She laughed. It sounded more like a yowl. Then she said in the same laughing yowl, "You won't have to force him." Mel stomped down on the accelerator and roared down the road. The garage door was open when he swung into the driveway. An elderly woman was standing in front of the door waving him in. As soon as the car stopped the woman pushed the button to close the door behind them. "Katrina, are you still with me?" Mel yelled into the back seat. The only answer was a long, drawn out meowl that except for the tone and volume sounded exactly like a house cat in heat. He opened the back door and Kat launched herself at him. She was now naked except for light tan fur which covered her entire body. Her tail was held high in the air and she was pushing her ass at Mel. "Let's get you downstairs," he said and looked over at the woman who had met them. She had the back door of the house open and was beckoning him urgently. He grabbed Kat around the waist and lifted her into the air. She wrapped her legs backward around his waist and tried to pull herself against him. The caterwauling was now loud enough that the neighbors could probably hear it within their nearby homes. The elderly woman moved surprisingly fast across the kitchen, opened a basement door and beckoned Mel to hurry. At the base of the steps, one half of the basement was walled off in a rather large room with very thick walls. The door was also thick and tapered, indicating a soundproofed room. Once Kat was locked inside, Mel and the woman stood there silently for several minutes. There was a window on the door and Mel looked inside to see Kat writhing on the floor and thrusting her ass high into the air. She now looked and sounded just like a cat in heat. She was just bigger..., and much, much louder. Finally the woman said, "Let's go back up into the kitchen and wait for her mate." Mel looked at her in surprise, but held his questions. It was obvious he would be told what he needed to know, when he needed to know it. He could wait. Besides, he had already seen a lot that he wasn't sure he wanted to know. About a half hour later, there was a scratching, knocking noise at the back door. The woman yelled out, "Come in." When nothing happened, she yelled something else in a language Mel had never heard before. A ragged looking man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties entered the kitchen. His eyes were wild, like someone high on drugs. He snarled something in a very odd tongue, and the woman answered a single word in the same language. He ran downstairs. "We never expected this to ever occur, or we would have installed cameras and recording equipment. As it is, it would be best if there were two observers. Please come downstairs with me and try to remember everything you see." Mel wanted to say, "And what if I don't want to watch my cat-in-heat partner screwing some rapist?" But he knew that somehow, watching and remembering whatever was happening was something that he was expected to do out of duty to his country and loyalty to his partner. When they got to the bottom of the steps, the door to the sound-proofed room was standing slightly open. Mel and the woman entered and she closed the door behind them. The sound inside was almost overwhelming. It was as if a thousand cats in heat were caterwauling into huge amplifiers. The man was now naked. His fur was slightly darker than Kat's. They were screeching and yeowling and clawing at each other in a dance very similar to what Mel had watched between toms and pussies out on the farm growing up. Final the tone of Kat's yeowls changed and the furry man positioned himself behind her and squeezed tightly on her lower breasts. Lower breasts? Mel shook his head. Kat has four breasts. The upper two looked almost human except they were now covered with fur. The lower two were smaller, but had huge nipples. The room suddenly smelled of lavender. The older woman said quickly, "Hold your breath. It's only effective for a moment or two. It will calm Kat, but it could knock you out." Mel did as he was instructed and watched intently. As Kat calmed down the man began milking her lower breasts. As the man squeezed each teat, thick, dark milk or cream began to flow from the large nipples. The man was catching it in his hands and rubbing it on Kat's body. Then the milk got thicker, almost like soft butter, and the man began massaging it into Kat's cunt and ass. All the while that he was doing this, Kat was yeowling louder and growing more and more agitated. Finally Kat began screaming a very high-pitched wail, and the man began pumping frantically in her ass. As he pumped, his tail came down between his legs and up between Kat's legs. The tip of the tail was sliding up and down where a human clitoris would be. Evidently, whatever Kat was also had something very sensitive located there because her wailing began to reach almost impossible levels of pitch and volume. Then she began shaking violently and hissing. The furry man matched her hiss for hiss until they both suddenly screamed out and became silent. Despite the language and cultural barriers, Mel knew that Kat and the furry man had climaxed together. She was now meowling softly and moving slowly against the man. He was pulling out of her very slowly. Suddenly with a scream of pain from both of them, he was free from her. The furry man stood quietly for a moment. His stiff prick was standing out straight from his body. Mel was trying to figure out why it looked so strange and then he realized that the man was holding something in the tip of his penis. Three long tendrils of flesh were gripping tightly to something that looked very much like a smooth walnut. Kat lay down on her back and arched her body upward toward the man. He plunged into her and they both froze in place for two or three minutes. Kat then collapsed down onto the padded floor. The man's prick pulled out from her as she fell. There was now nothing on the tip of the penis. Kat and the man were both starting to breath less heavily. As they calmed down, the fur began to disappear from their bodies. Finally Kat... Mel's partner Kat, and the mousy little man from the bar lay naked on the floor of the room. "I think it would be best if we let them recover a bit in private," said the woman and motioned Mel toward the door of the room. *** "I am special agent Gloria Albertson," the woman said once they were back upstairs in the kitchen. "I live next door. I am supposedly retired." She smiled. "It helps me blend in to the neighborhood." She motioned for Mel to sit down and reached over to turn on the coffee maker. "That will be ready in a moment and then we can have some coffee," she said as she joined him at the table. "I am with a special branch of the secret service." she explained. "And I actually am retired except for one case that requires my attention one or two days a month. The woman you know as Katrina Ecstranger was the sole survivor or so we thought of a space ship that crashed into Lake Michigan about four years ago. She was their security officer..." "And Butter Cat." Kat was standing in the doorway. Her now hairless skin was shiny with sweat. She walked through the kitchen to a small bedroom and quickly returned wearing a lightweight robe. She addressed Gloria. "He's restrained. I understand why he did what he did, but on your planet or on mine he is still a violent rapist and must be incarcerated to protect society." Kat then turned to Mel and said, "I owe you an explanation, partner." She then motioned for Gloria to get them some coffee and waited until both had steaming mugs in their hands before continuing. "Contact Ship Seven arrived at Earth four years ago. It was supposed to make a soft landing on the surface of Lake Michigan and wait there while a cultural liaison team established contact with government officials. Chicago was chosen because of its size and the huge body of relatively calm water on which to land. The ship also could submerge slightly to remain hidden. We had prepared for any contingency and were ready for anything... except a pure white moon." Mel looked at her and nodded slowly even though he had no idea what she meant. "Our race is closely-related to earth felines and earth..." her eyes rolled upward slightly as she sought out the right word, "... marsupials." She laughed. "Our mating habits, as you have seen, are a bit different than yours. I am an egg layer... well, egg producer. My reproductive organs are located..." she paused again as if seeking the right word. Then she blurted out, "They are in my ass... like an earth bird. But I don't lay the eggs. They must be pulled from my body by the male. My lower mammaries secret a special thick milk that not only lubricates the passage, but also stimulates my egg organ to release an egg. "Just like one of your earth felines, I have to be highly stimulated for that to occur. That happens only when my body senses the pheromones of a male in moon heat, and even then he has to work to get me high enough to release an egg." She sighed deeply and asked, "Are you following me so far?" Mel took a sip of his coffee and said, "Yup. You're a cat from outer space that gets uncontrollably horny at the full moon." "Yes and no," she answered. "The full moon makes us more... OK, horny, but not uncontrollably..., at least not on our home planet. Our sun is bigger..., redder..., hotter than yours and our planet is much farther out in orbit. Our circuit is approximately three of your years. And our moon is smaller and much farther away from the planet. It takes nearly a full circuit for the moon to complete its orbit. That means our mating cycle is once every three of your years. "Arriving at earth undetected required approaching very slowly and then staying aligned exactly with your moon so that we were continuously behind it as we approached. We stayed on the dark side of the moon until it was full in your sky to help hide any light reflections from our ship as we made final approach. The bodies of the crew had been genetically modified so that we could blend in more easily, if necessary, here on earth. Unless, of course," she added, "we entered mating phase. They used DNA brought back by previous explorer ships." "You kidnaped people to take back to your planet?" Mel suddenly sputtered? "No," Kat responded. "This was the first planetary landing. We merely recovered bodies from failed space attempts by your earth governments. But either the modifications magnify our normal sexual responses or your brighter, whiter, larger moon overwhelms us and we can't control ourselves." She looked over at Mel and laughed. As she did, for a moment, her face covered with fur and her teeth seemed to grow and sharpen. "How would you like to report back to your home planet that generations worth of work and preparation were lost because an entire crew was engaged in a wild mating orgy as their ship plummeted out of control into a lake?" Her voice became softer and a faraway look appeared on her face. "The ship broke apart on impact. I was trapped in the security area. The restraining cells are reinforced and have their own containment. I was able to get into one of them before the compartment walls imploded. "I was still in there when your government recovered the wreckage. I... and they, thought that I was the only survivor. Our rapist was a cargo steward. When the frenzy started, he had tried to rape one of his fellow crewmen and she locked him in a cargo container. The container was thrown clear on impact and drifted over into Indiana where some beach comber opened it hoping for treasure. "After your government raised the ship from the lake, with my help, they were able to repair enough of it so that I could send a message home." She laughed slightly. "I left out the details, but said that the ship had crashed, I was the only survivor, and that contact had been successfully made." She took a sip of her coffee. "Because our main communication array was destroyed, we had to transmit using the emergency beacon. It will take twenty-two and a half of your earth years for the message to get back to my planet. Allowing for two or three of our cycles for them to decide what to do, a followup ship should be launched in about twenty-five years, and arrive here about forty years from now. The date is pretty predictable based on the orbits of my planet and yours and the movements of our respective star systems. I may or may not still be alive then, but my daughter," she patted her stomach, "should be able to meet them." Special agent Gloria Albertson cleared her throat rather noisily, and once she had Mel's attention said, "Which brings us to something very important, Detective Beckermann. This extraterrestrial stranger and her offspring will need to be protected until the secondary contact team arrives. Would you consider a long-term assignment... a very long-term assignment in that capacity? It would require that you move in with her and live as husband and wife. Both of you will keep your jobs on the force, and everything will be put in place so that there are no problems." "I can think of a problem," answered Mel. "When my partner turns up pregnant, people are going to notice." "The egg only stays inside of me for about a week," answered Kat. "At that point I give birth, as you would call it, to a large, leathery egg that has to be kept warm, but no longer needs to be inside of me. It can be kept in an incubator during the day and with me in bed at night until it hatches in about seven months. Once the baby comes out of the egg, it needs to nurse almost continuously for a couple of weeks, then it can be brought slowly to a schedule much like a human baby. I will only need to be off duty for the three to four weeks of constant nursing and then for about two months after that. The story can be that I am on assignment somewhere. I would even be able to come by the station once in a while." Gloria spoke up, "And there would be some other... advantages, Detective Beckmann. Kat, would you like to tell your partner what a Butter Cat is?" Kat's face reddened and a fine shadow of fur appeared. "My police skills weren't the only reason I was chosen for the crew of Contact Ship Seven. As you have seen, our mating habits are rather forceful and can overwhelm us. It wasn't known for sure what the effect of several years in space would be, so certain female members of the crew were selected because... well, because they are ready to mate anytime, rather than just once a cycle. On earth, I think you call such girls sluts. Where I am from, they are called Butter Cats, because our bodies are capable of making the thick milk used in the mating ritual not only once a lunar cycle, but as often as needed." She looked over at Mel said, "On your planet, I need sex at least once a month. I go into heat every full moon. That's what the soundproof room is for. But that is not the only time I am horny. I want sex almost all of the time, and always have." She paused a moment to let Mel catch up with what she was saying. Then she continued, "My vagina, even before the modifications, is very human-like, but our race uses both openings for procreation." She laughed. "And Butter Cats use all three openings for pleasure. I've never had sex with a human male because we couldn't risk the story getting out about my tail and extra breasts." She smiled an odd smile. "Humans have invented some very interesting machines to satisfy a human female, but none of them can quite match having a real live prick up your ass." She watched Mel twist slightly with discomfort. "We could have a lot of fun together, partner..., and you couldn't get me pregnant unless you can teach your prick to reach into my egg sack and pull out an egg after it fertilizes it. Besides, no egg gets released unless I decide in advance that it will get released. We needed to insure that there would be someone to meet the secondary ship, so I released an egg." "Will you need to mate with him again?" Mel looked somewhat embarrassed. "I'm pretty good in bed... or so I have been told, but I can't do the full hiss and spit routine and I don't have a tail to rub your clit while I'm screwing your ass. Your keepers can probably arrange for conjugal visits wherever they are keeping him." "They are my protectors, not my keepers," she replied, somewhat upset. She looked over at Gloria. "OK, protectors and keepers, but I'm not an animal, I'm just an extraterrestrial stranger in what, for me, is a very strange and different world. You are the only one who knows what I am that has ever treated me like a person. If you can continue to do that, that will be enough. You don't have to have sex with me or help care for my baby or any of that. Just treat me like a fellow being. ... a very lonely fellow being." She started to cry softly. Mel came over to her and put his arm around her. "When you said I would never understand you unless I saw you naked," he began, "I was suddenly filled with hope because I really did want to see you naked. I've had other female partners, but you are the first one that I had any thoughts about getting close to." He sighed, "But then you laughed and said, That ain't never gonna happen,' and I thought you were rejecting me because of my mouse face." She looked at him and appeared somewhat bewildered. "I've heard the jokes behind our backs." he said. "Tom and Jerry... they're a cat and mouse from old cartoons. I know what I look like, and I can't blame them for calling me Jerry." Kat looked down, not sure where Mel was going with his comments. He lifted her face so their eyes could meet. "Now I understand..., and not because I've seen you naked. Seeing you naked helps me understand what you are. But more than that, as a fellow police officer, I understand that you are on the most difficult undercover assignment ever." He paused before continuing, "And I would love to be your partner on that assignment... if you will have me. And I would love to have sex with you on a regular basis... just nothing weird and kinky." Both Gloria and Kat laughed and Mel sputtered, "I mean besides you having a tail and getting fur all over your body when you're in heat and needing your lower tits milked to take you over the edge and really wanting it up the ass rather than in your vagina which isn't really a cunt but is just someplace to keep an egg warm and..." Kat's laughter continued and she said, "No, besides that, I'm just a very normal Butter Cat from a distant planet. Nothing kinky." She smiled and showed her fur and fangs for a moment. "Did you know that what you earthlings call the missionary position' is considered very, very kinky where I come from for anything other than implanting the egg?" She raised her eyebrows and licked her lips. "But I like it. The direct contact against my pleasure nub drives me wild. When word got around that I liked belly sex' that's when I first got labeled a Butter Cat..., because only a Butter Cat would like sex in that position. "My parents were horrified when they found out about it, but it was very freeing for me. If everyone already considers you a slut, you are free to act like one. I knew I was a Butter Cat so I was free from all my society's inhibitions and restrictions regarding sex. And you know I'm a Butter Cat, so I'm free to act like one for you... and for me." *** The headlines read, "Full Moon Rapist Kills Self When Confronted by Police." The picture with the story was of Detectives Katrina Ecstranger and Melvin Beckermann who, according to the story, were acting on a tip given by Harvey O'Brien, former owner of Clancey's Pub. The story went on to say that it was brilliant police work which tracked down the suspect from the sketchy tip given by the bar owner. Still, Mr. O'Brien received one half of the 1.3 million dollar reward money and intended to retire to Florida. Detectives Ecstranger and Beckermann were going to be on temporary assignment with a special anti-terrorist unit which was investigating illegal aliens living among us. Detective Ecstranger, known to her fellow officers as "the cat" for being able to sniff out clues in difficult cases said, "You have to draw the line somewhere. Otherwise who knows where these people might come from. There are some pretty strange places out there with cultures and practices very different from our own. If they arrive properly and can adjust to our culture, fine, but if not, then there can be a real problem and we have to step in." The reporters were not sure what her partner found overwhelmingly funny in her statement. When Mel and Kat returned to the precinct four months later, it was explained that they would have to maintain some of the cover aspects of their previous assignment, which included living together as man and wife. Many eyebrows were raised, however, especially when it became apparent that Mel seemed very happy with the whole arrangement. One thing did really catch the attention of their fellow officers, though. When they returned, both Kat and Mel put electronic countdown clocks on the corner of their desks counting off years, months, and days to something. Both were set to 40 years, 7 months, and 3 days. When asked about then, Mel and Kat would explain that date was when the true nature of their assignment could be made public. One of the other detectives said, "No secret can stay hidden that long. Somebody will figure it out." Kat responded, "Not unless they see me naked." Mel added, "And trust me, that ain't never gonna happen." = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 UMPA Eleven http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952 BDSM Boot Camp http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11204 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Twelve Days a Slave 9 of 13 by The Technician Slavery, Public Nudity, Public Humiliation, Public Punishment, Electro = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = slave missy plays "Wheel of Pleasure / Wheel of Pain." This is the story of a young woman's conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. After the woman is convicted, a "sentence negotiator" gets her sentence reduced to a public day of repentance followed by eleven days of public punishment. Following that, she is to serve one year of penal servitude. This story deals with non-consensual punishment, pain, and involuntary slavery. If such topics offend you or upset you, I would advise skipping this particular book. There are thirteen chapters to this story. The chapters can be read on their own, but the story is much better understood if the previous portions have been read. The complete story is full book length. I debated publishing it with some of my other books at Fiction4all, but decided that I would rather serialize it and post it here. A description of the thirteen chapters follows the end of each chapter. The seventh day for slave missy is a day for electro-punishment. Slave missy becomes part of the vidshow, "Wheel of Pleasure / Wheel of Pain." = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician} The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Chapter Nine - Slave missy takes part in the vidshow, "Wheel of Pleasure / Wheel of Pain." Missy awoke to the smell of coffee. She looked around herself in confusion. She didn't remember eating supper last night. And now she could smell coffee but could not smell bacon. As she slowly made her way to the front of the RV, William called out to her, "She lives!" She gave him a weak smile. "You forgot your towel," he said. As she started to turn around to go back and get one, he called out, "I've got it. I put one out for you to use at supper last night, but I couldn't wake you." She turned once more and stumbled into the kitchen. Once she was seated, he handed her a large cup of coffee and said, "This will put hair on your chest." She looked down at her hairless body and laughed. He then said, "Well, it will at least wake you up." He turned back to the stove and said over his shoulder, "Since you missed supper, I figured I should do steak and eggs this morning. I use a thin flank steak cut into small pieces and mix it into scrambled eggs. I started things when I heard you starting to stir." As he set her plate in front of her he added, "It's sort of my special occasion breakfast." "Is today a special occasion?" missy asked. "Well," William responded, "it's not every day that you are a special segment on a vidshow game." "What show?" "Wheel of Pleasure / Wheel of Pain," he replied. "Not only are they sponsoring today, I locked in a guarantee of residuals so when it's rebroadcast, we get a small percentage of the ad revenue." "Never heard of it," she said. "How does it work?" "Ah," he said with a big grin, "that will be today's surprise." When she pouted at him, he added, "Besides, there are four contestants who will go before you. By the time it's your turn, you will know exactly what's going on." About fifteen minutes later, both were finished and sipping their coffee. He gave a deep sigh and said, "Showtime. Time to grease up, lock up, mount up, and get moving." Missy chuckled slightly at his description of the morning routine, downed the rest of her coffee, and followed him out the door. There was a light mist in the air as they made their parade lap through town. It had become a light drizzle before they returned to the fairgrounds. Because there was no wind, with the large circle of plastic above her, missy stayed more or less dry even after she was hoisted up above the stage. Looking around once she was in position, missy wondered why the stage crew was not busy setting up the equipment needed for today's punishment. Then she noticed a large object of some sort sitting on stage right. It was covered with a heavy tarp which two of the stage crew were securing tightly to the stage floor. Since there was really nothing to watch, she decided to engage in her morning routine of stroking herself to a pleasant state of arousal. Or, at least that was her intent, but shortly after she settled back against the bars, she fell fast asleep. She was awakened by loud music and a cheering crowd. A male voice not William's was yelling out a cheery greeting, "Welcome. ladies and gentlemen." The crowd cheered its response, and he screamed out, "Are you ready to play?" Everyone was now on their feet, clapping in unison and chanting, "Spin, spin, spin, spin, spin, spin, spin..." Speaking louder to be heard over the noise of the crowd, the voice continued in its professional announcer's mellifluous tones as it said, "Time now for Wheel of Pleasure / Wheel of Pain." After a moment, two beautiful young blond women in glittering black dresses appeared on the very edges on stage right and stage left and motioned with their hands for the audience to be seated. When everything had quieted down, the announcer bellowed out, "And now welcome your host, Bobbie Barker." A tall, stunningly beautiful black woman, dressed in a glittery white dress walked out to center stage. She waved and smiled at the crowd as she made her way across the stage. Once she was in place the announcer voice boomed out again. "Our first contestants are Marcus and Leona McCleary from New Chicago. Let's give them a big wheel welcome!" As they came out onto the stage, the crowd again cheered wildly until the blondes indicated that they should be quiet. Missy had never watched a vidshow game being taped before. She suddenly startled as she realized that she had no idea what "taped" meant. Actually no one knew for sure what "taped" meant, but that was what they called it when they recorded the raw video for vidshows. "Tell us a little about yourself," Bobbie said pleasantly. Leona, who was wearing a dark blue fuzzy robe of some sort and apparently nothing else since she was standing barefoot on the stage replied, "I work from home as a freelance memory cleaner. I connect to people's devices and remove redundant and unnecessary programing." "Aren't there bots to do that?" Bobbie asked. "Yes, there are," Leona replied with a smile, "but as we all know, those bots often remove programs we would like to keep, and leave others that we really don't need. After all these years of progress, you still can't beat a human brain sifting through your memory." "Well," Bobbie said, moving her microphone over to Marcus, "that is about as close to a plug for a business as they will let us do. So, Marcus, where do you work?" Marcus, who was dressed in a pair of black slacks and a light blue polo-style shirt, replied, "I'm a coordinator for traffic control devices. Some cities have gone to full electronic control, but New Chicago learned long ago that when the shit hits the fan, it takes a human to make the acceptable decision." "Meaning, no matter how bad the traffic gets, the mayor gets home on time," Bobbie said with a laugh. "Or to lunch," Marcus added, also laughing. "Some of the old Chicago ways have carried over into New Chicago." "Let's see," Bobbie said, "if those old... or New Chicago ways can make you a winner on our wheel today. I assume that Leona will be in the restraints and Marcus will be spinning the wheel. Is that correct? " "Yes, it is," the McCleary's answered together. "Then let's get Leona in place," Bobbie said in an excited voice, "And then we can spin the wheel." Leona dropped her robe to the floor to reveal her naked body. There were already a number of black electrodes stuck to the skin. There appeared to be rows of black squares about every four inches all the way down the outside of her body, beginning just under her arm pits. A similar row began on both insides of her legs just below her crotch. In addition there were a half-dozen or more electrodes on her abdomen and another half dozen or more on her ass. It almost looked like she had pasties over her nipples as something was covering the front of her tits. The wires hanging down from the pastie-like patches, however, identified them as electrodes. She was also wearing what, at first, appeared to be a small, black leather thong which had wires dangling from it. Regular viewers of the show knew that it was actually a dildo harness which kept combination vibrator / electrode dildos in place in her cunt and ass. Just to stage right of center, a large, square restraint frame had been set up. She stepped between the uprights and raised her arms so that the crew could fasten the cuffs around her wrists. Then, spreading her legs as wide as she could, she watched as they fastened similar cuffs around her ankles. There was a loud clicking noise as the upper chains were tightened, drawing her body taut between the posts. A young man from the production crew stepped forward with a bundle of wires in his hand and began to connect them to the various pads and electrodes. It was several minutes before all the pads were connected. All the while he was working, a cameraman looked over his shoulder, zooming in on the various parts of Leona's body that were being connected. After the pads were connected, the technician picked up a long cable and connected wires from it to the vaginal and anal dildos. Reaching into his tool case, he took out a ball gag and strapped it in place. It was the type with a hollow ball with many holes in it, so she would still be able to breath through her mouth if necessary. The last thing he did was to put a bright orange tennis ball in each of Leona's hands. Stepping back, he inspected his work, looked up at Bobbie who was standing nearby, and said, "We're ready to play." Bobbie returned to the center of the stage where Marcus stood waiting alongside the ten foot high wheel which gave the show its name. She looked out at the crowd and said, "A lot of that will be edited out before broadcast." She turned as said something to the crew that missy couldn't hear. Her voice became much louder as she then faced the audience and almost shouted, "Leona is ready. Marcus is ready. Are you ready!?" Once again the cry of "Spin, spin, spin, spin, spin," echoed through the arena. After a few moments, the sideline ladies once again quieted the crowd and Bobbie said to Marcus, "Are you ready to spin?" He answered, "Yes," and she replied, "First, we need to make sure you understand the rules. The wheel is divided into twelve segments. Four segments are labeled "Pain" or "Pleasure." Four are labeled "Moderate Pain" or "Moderate Pleasure." And four are labeled, "Extreme Pain" or Extreme Pleasure." She pointed to each type of segment on the large wheel as she spoke. "Each time you spin the wheel," she explained, "the amount you can win goes up, but so does the duration of the pulse cycle. If, during the pulse cycle, Leona drops one of her safety signals or orgasms the game is over and you win nothing. You will have an opportunity to stay or leave before each spin, but once the wheel starts spinning, you... or at least Leona... is committed for that round. Our first spin is for $5000. The pulse cycle is five seconds. If you are ready, Marcus, spin the wheel." Marcus rotated the wheel slightly upward and then pushed down with all his might. The crowd again began their chant of "Spin, spin, spin, spin..." while the pointer clicked from segment to segment and lights flashed around the outside of the wheel. As the wheel began to slow down it clicked through "Extreme Pleasure" and then "Extreme Pain" before finally stopping at "Pleasure." Almost immediately, Leona began wiggling in her restraints. Lights mounted around the outside of the frame flashed as pulses raced across her skin and the dildos in both her cunt and her ass vibrated softly. A large display above her head counted down the seconds by tenths of a second. When it reached zero, she gave a soft sigh and stood silently between the posts. "That was an easy five thousand," Bobbie said. "You can take your five thousand and go home, or you can spin the wheel for an additional ten thousand dollars. Remember, this time the pulse cycle is increased to ten seconds. What do you say, Marcus?" He looked over at Leona standing between the posts. Her body was shiny with sweat, but she was nodding her head. "I'll spin," he replied as he once more lifted upward on the wheel before pushing downward with all his strength. Many in the audience softly chanted, "Spin, spin, spin" as the wheel rotated rapidly around, the clicker snapping from segment to segment. Watching from above, missy noted that the wheel was arranged so that you always went from something good to something bad. The pain segment always followed pleasure segments, so you went from Pleasure to Pain, from Moderate Pleasure to Moderate Pain, and of course, from Extreme Pleasure to Extreme Pain. You could also say, however, that Pleasure always followed pain because the segment after Extreme Pain started the sequence once again with Pleasure. The wheel slowed. It clicked through Extreme Pain to Extreme Pleasure. It was almost stopped but still had just enough movement to click one last time. The pointed vibrated over the very beginning of the Pain segment. Leona immediately began dancing in the frame. Her body was jerking and twisting. No actual scream was able to come out through the ball gag, but her grunts were very loud. Missy noted that the woman's grunts corresponded to the flashing of the lights around the outside of the frame. She also noted that the lights were flashing much brighter than the first time. The clock slowly counted down from ten. With about four seconds left, the bound woman stopped grunting and began a loud, continuous wail which sounded almost like a siren in the distance. Finally the clock said zero and the lights quit flashing. Leona was now dripping sweat and breathing very heavily. "You now have fifteen thousand dollars," Bobbie gushed. "And you have a decision to make. Do you walk away with the fifteen grand... or do you risk that against an additional twenty thousand dollars!?" Marcus looked over at his wife to see if she nodded her head yes or shook her head no. She did neither, but was rather hanging limp in her restraints. "I remind you," Bobbie said in a measured tone, "that if Leona drops one of her safety balls during the twenty seconds, you lose everything." Marcus replied, "I'm not sure. We had agreed that we would go to at least thirty-five thousand dollars, but she doesn't look so good." He took a deep breath and held it in for a moment. Then he slowly exhaled and said, "I'll spin." Again the wheel started out spinning very rapidly. As it slowed and began clicking through its final segments, a low "Oooohhhhh" came from the audience. They could see where the wheel was likely to stop. It clicked through Moderate Pain and then through Extreme Pleasure. It looked like it would also pass through Extreme Pain, but it just didn't have enough momentum to click the clicker. It stopped with the pointer resting on the division between the segments. "Ouch," Bobbie said softly. Marcus stared at the wheel in shock. Leona, meanwhile, was grunting and thrashing wildly with each pulse. The lights around the frame were flashing very brightly. Lights on the front of the pasties as well as lights which appeared to be on the ends of the dildos also began to flash. Apparently those electrodes activate only in the Extreme Pain segment. The clock began it slow countdown from twenty. It read fourteen point two when both bright orange tennis balls dropped from her hands. "Ooooh, so sorry," Bobbie said as she put her arm around Marcus' shoulder. "That means you lose everything." Marcus started to stumble slowly off stage. Four crew members quickly unplugged Leona and, after releasing her wrist and ankle cuffs, more or less carried her off stage. Bobbie looked out at the crowd. "Very few," she began, "are able to endure the Extreme Pain segment." She shrugged her shoulders and added, "But that is the risk you accept when you spin the wheel." She smiled warmly and then said, "This is, after all, Wheel of Pleasure / Wheel of Pain." Looking up at one of the cameras, she added softly, "We'll be back right after this word." Stage crew members rushed onto the stage to prepare for the next contestants. They mopped the area beneath the frame. Evidently Leona had lost control of her bladder. They also removed the leather cuffs from the restraints and replaced them with a fresh set. Once everything was ready, Bobbie walked to the center of the stage and stood facing the crowd. A voice said over the speakers, "Recording in three, two, one..." The announcers voice boomed out, "Our next contestants are Harold and Cindy Zimmerman from Bend City, California. Let's give them a big wheel welcome!" The audience dutifully applauded as the couple walked out onto the stage. Cindy was wearing an almost skin-tight leather pencil dress that showed off the perfection of her body. She was also wearing knee high soft leather boots which perfectly matched the dress. Harold was barefoot and wearing a blue fuzzy robe. Bobbie smiled at them and said, "Welcome to the wheel, Harold and Cindy. Tell us a little something about yourself." Harold looked down at the floor as Cindy spoke up. "We are both teachers in the Bend City school system," she said cheerily. "Harold is able to stand a LOT of pain, so we think we have a really good chance of lasting the five spins needed for the jackpot." "Wow," Bobbie replied. "I think you are the first couple ever to say right from the start that they were going for the jackpot." She paused and then said, "it's pretty obvious that Harold will be in the restraints and Cindy will be spinning the wheel. Is that correct? " "Yes, it is," the they answered together. "Then let's get Harold in place," Bobbie said in an excited voice, "and then we can spin the wheel." When Harold dropped his robe, it was obvious that he was wired up much like Leona had been. The only difference seemed to be that the nipple electrodes were held in place with a wide band of elastic which went around his chest, and the dildo harness had a pouch in front for his ball sac rather than a vaginal vibrator / electrode. His prick, already slightly engorged, stuck through a hole in the harness. He walked quickly over to the restraint frame and positioned himself in a big X. Soon he was cuffed in place with all wires connected. Bobbie was standing with Cindy next to the wheel. "Are you ready to play?" she asked. Cindy answered, "Of course." Bobbie explained the rules and then said, "Our first spin is for $5000. The pulse cycle is five seconds. If you are ready, Cindy, spin the wheel." The audience began their chant of "Spin, spin, spin, spin." Cindy reached up as far as she could on the wheel and pulled down hard. The wheel spun very fast for the first revolution or two but rapidly slowed down after that. The pointer clicked past Extreme Pleasure and then Extreme Pain. It almost stopped in Pleasure, but had just enough momentum to click into the Pain segment. Harold twitched slightly in his bonds, but did not cry out in any way while the clock counted down from five to zero. "I told you he could handle pain," Cindy said with a smile. "Does that mean you want to risk the five thousand and spin for an additional ten thousand?" Bobbie asked. "You bet your sweet ass," Cindy replied. The audience began their cadence of "Spin, spin, spin, spin," and Cindy again pulled down with all his might on the wheel. Once again the wheel started very rapidly but soon slowed almost to a stop as it clicked through Moderate Pleasure, Moderate Pain, Extreme Pleasure, and finally stopped in Extreme Pain. Harold twitched and jerked in his restraints as the lights flashed on his anal dildo, his ball cage, and the chest band which held electrodes over his nipples. He did not cry out, but amazingly, as the clock counted down past the two second mark, his prick began to rise. "He's getting off on the pain," missy said aloud from above. The same comment was heard throughout the crowd. When the clock reached zero and all of the lights went dark, Harold hung limp in his restraints. "You now have fifteen thousand dollars," Bobbie gushed. "You can take that home with you right now... or you can risk it all and spin for an additional twenty thousand." She paused and gave a smirk to the audience, "Of course," she continued, "that means that the countdown clock starts at twenty seconds. Do you really think Harold would be able to handle twice as much if it lands on Extreme Pain again?" Cindy laughed and said, "You ain't seen nothing yet. Harold can handle any amount of pain and never ever cry out." With that, she reached up and gave the wheel another spin even before the audience could begin their chant. It rotated several times before beginning to slow down. It clicked through Moderate Pleasure, Moderate Pain, Extreme Pleasure, and started to click into Extreme Pain. A loud, "Oooh," came from the audience which changed to a "Ahhhh," as the wheel rocked back leaving the pointer still in the Extreme Pleasure segment. The lights on Harold's body again came on, but this time they brightened slowly and dimmed slowly. The microphones directly above where he stood picked up the sound of the vibrator buzzing loudly in his ass. As the lights faded in and out, very light electrical pulses traveled up and down Harold's legs and abdomen. He was again moving in his restraints, but this time he was not thrashing, he was almost dancing in ecstacy. As the clock slowly counted down the seconds from twenty, Harold began writhing more and more in time with the pulses. And as he moved, his prick rose higher and higher. Soon the crowd was buzzing as people pointed out Harold's increasing erection. Then the crowd began counting down final seconds, "Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three..." At three the crowd came to their feet cheering. Harold had lost control and spurted wildly out onto the stage. Cindy was screaming epithets at him as they were both led off the stage. Bobbie looked directly into the camera that was following her and said, "We'll be back right after these messages." While the crew was resetting for the next contestants, she walked up to the front of the stage and asked, "Is everybody having a good time?" The crowd roared their response. She then said, "We have one more regular contestant and then we will be getting to our special guest for the day. Remember that you can submit bids on her performance using your cellphones or by visiting the betting windows located under the stands." Missy looked down from her cage. "Who are they betting on?" she said softly. Then Bobbie looked up at her. "Oh," she said, "she heard me." Bobbie then pointed up at her and smirked. "Oh," she said again. "Oh!" Bobbie then put her finger up to her lips indicating that she was supposed to be quiet. The announcer's voice rang out, "Our final regular contestants for today are Madam Beauchamp and slutpuppy from New Orleans, Louisiana. Let's give them a big wheel welcome!" The audience started polite applause in response to the announcer's cue, but that changed to loud shouts and cheers as the couple walked out onto the stage. Madam Beauchamp was a very muscular black woman. Her skin was deep ebony and made Bobbie's mocha tone look almost white. She was dressed in a shiny black leather outfit, that if it were made of cloth would look like an old-fashioned swimsuit with French cut leg openings. She was wearing fishnet pantyhose and knee high, high-heeled soft leather boots. Her gloves where elbow-length in a leather than matched the boots. In her right hand she was holding a long silver chain leash which connected to the center of a collar worn by a blond girl with very, very pale skin. The collar was all that the girl, evidently named slutpuppy, was wearing. Bobbie waited for the noise of the crowd to finally fade away and then said, "So, Madam Beauchamp, tell us a little about yourself and your... uh... companion." The huge black woman stared intently at Bobbie for a few moments. The normally alpha female host of the show appeared to be melting under that stern gaze. "I'm a professional dominatrix," she finally replied. "Slutpuppy came to me as a client a few years ago." She reached over and stroked the blond girl's long hair. "Unfortunately, she had needs that exceeded her ability to pay... with money. But we were able to work out an arrangement beneficial to us both." Madam Beauchamp again focused her gaze on Bobbie and said, "If you would like to find out what a session with me might be like, I could always arrange a sample." She laughed. "I'm trying to put a deal together for a reality show. A recognizable name might be a big draw for the first episode." Bobbie stared back at her for several moments. Her mouth was open and her eyes seemed slightly out of focus. She shook her head and looked offstage. "Edit that out," she said in a shaky voice before returning to her bubbly host persona to say, "Before we begin, I need to quickly go over the rules." After the rules were explained, slutpuppy was taken over to the restraint frame and pulled into a taut, white, naked X. At first it looked like she had no body hair, but looking a little closer it was possible to see a very fine tangle of downy, blond hair covering her cunt. The audience began its chant of "Spin, spin, spin, spin, spin, spin." Madam Beauchamp reached up and almost effortlessly spun the wheel. The labels on the segments were blurred and the clicking of the indicator sounded like a high pitched buzz as the wheel spun frantically. Eventually it slowed and stopped on Moderate Pain. Everyone's eyes were on slutpuppy as the lights around the frame and on her body flickered and flashed indicating the intensity of the electrical pulses being delivered to her body. Despite the obviously severe shocks, the blond girl stood passively looking out at the crowd. Before Bobbie could proclaim the amount won for the first round, Madam Beauchamp reached up and once again spun the wheel. Again it buzzed angrily for many revolutions before slowing down. This time it landed once again on Moderate Pain. The lights flashed as before. Slutpuppy stood mute for most of the ten seconds, but with just two seconds to go uttered a short grunt. This time Bobbie stepped between the contestant and the wheel so she could proclaim, "You now have fifteen thousand dollars. Do you want to risk that for the twenty second spin. If you win, you have an additional twenty thousand. If you lose, you lose everything." The dominatrix just laughed slightly and spun the wheel once again. This time it stopped on Extreme Pain. This time slutpuppy was not able to remain silent. The lights were flashing more brightly and staying on slightly longer, meaning that the pulses themselves were stronger and longer. The blond could not keep her body from twanging and thrashing with the pulses. She also could not prevent the staccato grunts which accompanied each pulse. But at the end of the twenty seconds, she was still holding tightly to both safe word balls. "You now have thirty-five thousand dollars," Bobbie gushed. "Do you quit now, or spin once again and risk it all in hopes of gaining an additional thirty thousand." Before Madam Beauchamp could answer, she added, "Slutpuppy looks like she can handle a lot of pain, but remember, Harold and Cindy were undone by Extreme Pleasure." As she gripped the wheel she replied, "I have trained her to withstand pain OR pleasure." On the word pleasure, she gave the wheel its strongest spin yet. This time it finally stopped on Pain. The lights were much dimmer and slutpuppy stood mute in the restraint frame. The only noise she made was a soft moan that sounded much more like the sound of pleasure than the sound of pain. By the time the thirty seconds were up, the blond was panting deeply. She was obviously turned on by pain. "Oh oh," Bobbie chided. "It looks like slutpuppy is very close to an orgasm." She smiled at the dominatrix and added, "It might be time to take your SIXTY-FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS and go home." She immediately wilted under Madam Beauchamps scowl. "Or," she sputtered out, "you could try for a fifth completed spin and take home two hundred and fifty thousand dollars." She seemed to regain some of her composure as she said, "Remember, slutpuppy will have to get through forty seconds of either pleasure or pain without orgasming or giving up." "I'll spin," the large black woman said gruffly as she grasped the edge of the wheel. She then looked out at the crowd and waited for the cry of "Spin, spin, spin, spin, spin, spin" to begin. After raising herself up onto her tiptoes and moving the wheel upward as far as she could, she brought her arm and her whole body down almost violently nearly pulling the wheel over as she set it spinning. The buzz was very high-pitched and very loud as the clicker switched madly from segment to segment. Many in the crowd were holding their breath waiting to see where it would land. There was a collective gasp as it clicked through Moderate Pleasure and then Moderate Pain before stopping at Extreme Pleasure. All eyes were on slutpuppy as the lights faded in and out around her. The buzz of the vibrators in her cunt and ass were easy to hear even without the sound being picked up by the microphones. Slutpuppy was swaying with the pulses. Her breath was coming in shorter and shorter gasps. The lights were reflecting off the inside of her legs as copious amounts of juice seeped down her thighs. With ten seconds left, the audience began counting down with the clock. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one." A buzzer sounded and two confetti canons on each side of the stage fired off. "We have a grand prize winner," shouted Robbie. The crowd continued to scream and whistle for several minutes. Then the dominatrix signaled with her hands for them to quiet down. They did and Madam Beauchamp walked over to stand in front of her submissive. "Very good," she said. Then standing alongside the restraint frame, she faced the crowd and said very loudly, "You may now have your orgasm." A wail louder than anything from earlier in the evening reverberated throughout the arena. Slutpuppy thrashed and pulled at her restraints so violently that it looked like the frame would bend. Then arching her body so greatly that her feet left the ground she shuddered and cried out with a loud, "Aiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" that seemed to go on forever until it slowly faded out like a kettle running out of steam. The stage crew quickly released the pale, blond girl from the restraint frame. She took a step toward her mistress and began to fall forward. Madam Beauchamp scooped her up in her arms and carried her offstage while the theme music blared from the speakers. Bobbie Barker, host of Wheel of Pleasure / Wheel of Pain, then stepped to center stage and addressed the audience. "Normally," she began, "we have four contestants on our show. But tonight we have a special guest. Our fourth contestant tonight will be the repentant terrorist, slave missy." Missy's cage began to descend toward the stage floor. "Obviously we will have to change the game slightly for this special contestant," she said as William released missy from her cage and removed her chains. As the crew put missy in the restraint frame, Bobbie continued, "Slave missy will be restrained as usual... and she will have the two balls that she can drop as safety signals." She paused and walked to the front of the stage. "But she is not playing for money tonight. She is playing for time. If she drops the balls or if she orgasms today will not count toward the reduction of her sentence." She pointed back where William stood alongside the wheel and continued, "And there will be six spins in the series. The first five will be the standard five, ten, twenty, thirty, and forty. The sixth spin will be for forty-six seconds. That is one second for each of the businesses that our terrorist tried to destroy." She walked over to the wheel. "There is also a modification to our wheel," she said with a grin. The segments have all been changed to pain segments. The choices are Pain, Moderate Pain, and Extreme Pain. There is no pleasure on the wheel unless our little terrorist is able to get pleasure from severe electrical shock. Missy struggled against her bonds when she heard that, but settled down as she realized that there was no way that she could escape. "Mister Wilson," Bobbie called out, "would you give the wheel its first spin." The crowd was chanting "Spin, spin, spin, spin." Missy could hear the clicking of the wheel. But she couldn't see it! She had assumed that the half of the contestant couple held in the frame knew what was coming, but they didn't. They didn't know if it was pleasure or pain, or how severe. She knew it would be pain. The only thing she didn't know was how bad. Then the pulses hit. They hurt. It was like a wasp stung her skin and then grabbed her with it small jaws and pinched... make that a thousand wasps. She screamed as loud as she could, but inside she was telling herself, "Hang on to those damn balls!" Five seconds is a long time when you are being shocked, even longer when you can't see the clock to know how much time is passing. To missy, it seemed more like a minute or longer that she screamed and shook. "That had to be moderate," she told herself as she hung panting. "It hurt like hell, but there were no shocks on my nipples." Strangely, she wasn't sure whether or not there had been shocks to her ass and cunt. She could hear Bobbie talking to William, or perhaps to the crowd. "Normally, I would ask if William and slave missy wanted to continue, but there is no way this ends until missy has gone through all six spins and endured that final forty-six seconds of Pain, Moderate Pain, or Extreme Pain. That is the only choice and that choice is made by the Wheel of Pain." Bobbie laughed menacingly, "Even if missy drops both balls or impossibly, if slave missy orgasms the pulses continue for six spins." "Shit!" said missy loudly. William looked over at her. "If it makes no difference," she continued loudly, "there is no way I'm dropping the fucking ball. Spin the wheel!" The crowd cheered and immediately went into their chant. "Spin, spin, spin, spin, spin." All the while they were chanting, missy was also chanting silently to herself, "Hurt but not harm, hurt but not harm, hurt but not harm." She heard the clicking of the wheel. William wasn't spinning it as fast as the real contestants had spun it. Missy could almost count the clicks as it spun. The clicks quickly slowed down and then stopped. Almost as soon as the last click sounded the first pulse hit. It was no where near as bad as before. The wasps were still there, but now they didn't bite, they only pinched. It hurt, but missy was easily able to go into the pain. This time the seconds did seem like seconds before the pulses stopped. Missy now heard Bobbie call out, "Slave missy has endured fifteen seconds of the one hundred fifty-one total seconds that she must endure for this day to count." The clicking of the wheel began again. This time it was slightly faster and took just a little longer to finally stop... on Extreme Pain. A long, loud, "Aiieeeee" echoed out across the race track around the fairground stage. There was no doubt in missy's mind that this was the extreme segment. These weren't wasps. They were giant hornets that stung and bit and pinched all at the same time. A whole nest of hornets was alive in her cunt and in her ass. On top of that, her muscles were spasming so hard that it felt like she would pull her arms and legs out of their sockets. She tried to chant "Hurt but not harm" while the pulse shocks were swarming over her, but in truth, she wasn't sure that it was not destroying her body. Her voice was slightly hoarse before the twenty seconds were up. Bobbie was talking, but missy couldn't tell or didn't care what she said. She was too busy wiggling her fingers and flexing her legs to see if everything still worked. "It hurt like HELL," she said to herself, "but it didn't harm me. I have to trust William if I am to get through this." She didn't hear the wheel spinning. She didn't hear it stop. She did feel the pulses return. But now she was in control of the pain. The pulses felt like they were the moderate segment and they hurt. But they were regular. She knew when each pulse would begin. And she knew that despite the pain, they would not harm her. Slave missy opened herself to the pain. She welcomed it into her body. Her mind told her body that its message of how badly her body was being injured was wrong. These swarms of wasps, or even hornets, ultimately would not harm her. Bobbie spoke to the crowd. "If slave missy were a real contestant," she said. "Instead of a penal slave trading days of punishment for years of slavery. She would have already won sixty-five thousand dollars. A lot of our contestants who get this far decide that enough is enough and take their money and go home." She laughed. "Slave missy doesn't have that choice. There are two spins left to go." The crowd thought that Bobbie was taunting slave missy, but her words were actually words of encouragement. At least, that is how missy heard them. If she was trading days of punishment for years of slavery, then each pulse was at least months of slavery being removed from her body. And although she had eighty-six seconds of pain left to endure, she had already endured sixty- five seconds. She could do this. "Hurt but not harm, hurt but not harm, hurt but not harm, hurt but not harm, hurt but not harm." "Aiiieeee!" The crowd applauded as missy screamed out. This was another extreme segment. The initial pulse was unexpected. Missy had not prepared herself for it. The scream was automatic. But each succeeding pulse was less pain and more just an overwhelming sensation that her body could absorb. Finally the pulses stopped. "Can you believe that?" Bobbie gushed. "If slave missy were a contestant, she would have won our two hundred and fifty thousand dollar grand prize. I think she deserves a hand for that even if she is just a convicted terrorist." The crowd applauded politely. "But now," Bobbie continued, "we have one final spin. Will this be Pain, Moderate Pain, or Extreme Pain?" The crowd got to say "Spin" less than a dozen times before the wheel slowly came to a stop. It landed on Pain, the lightest of the three. Missy knew as soon as the first pulse hit that her final punishment was the lowest level. She was ready for the first pulse and responded only with a slight grunt as the lights on her breasts and dildo harness flashed weakly. The crowd saw missy receiving painful electrical shocks, but missy felt only sensations. Missy had been able to control the pain and make the Extreme Pain bearable. The Moderate Pain she was able to make not painful. This lowest level of pain, she was able to turn into pleasure. Each pulse felt better and better until suddenly she screamed out, "NO!" The crowd thought that she had reached her limit to endure pain and was about to drop the safety balls in a plea for this all to stop. The exact opposite was true. She was coming very close to orgasming and an orgasm was the same as dropping the balls. She would have who knows how many years of slavery added back to her sentence. "No, no, no, no, no," she was yelling with each pulse. She had no idea how long she had left. Could she hang on and not orgasm? The audience began counting down the final ten seconds. She was right on the edge of the cliff and slipping farther over it with each second counted off. Her body was already shaking in pre-orgasmic quivers when the crowd shouted, "One!" She took a very shaky breath and held it in. She heard William's voice cry out, "She made it!" The audience responded with mild applause. They were actually disappointed. They had been hoping to see her fail. When she heard William cry out, missy released the breath she had been holding within her. With that breath, she also released the orgasm that had threatened to erupt and disqualify her. She screamed out a very loud, "Aaaaaahhhh," and the crowd knew immediately that it was not a cry of pain. Missy screamed and thrashed in an orgasm that was releasing all of the pent-up sensations which she had absorbed in her over three minutes of electrical torture. The balls did not drop from her hands, they were thrown... with enough force to bounce across the stage and out into the audience. Now the crowd began to stomp and cheer. They had wanted to see this repentant terrorist fail in the worst way possible. In their minds she had. She had shown herself to be as much a painslut as slutpuppy had been for Madam Beauchamp. Somehow, missy also knew what her orgasm meant. "What have I become?" she asked herself softly again and again. She was still murmuring, "What have I become?" as the crew released her from her restraints. She felt William picking her up and carrying her back over to her cage. As he set her inside her cage and steadied her against the bars, she looked into his eyes and asked one last time, "What have I become?" The hour while she hung in her cage following the performance seemed especially long. Maybe that was because a much larger portion of the audience stopped to take pictures. Some even got down on their knees or even lay down on the ground so they could get the wheel into the picture with her hanging above. A couple of people were still taking pictures when William pulled onto the stage with the ATV and her cage was lowered down onto its trailer. Once they were back at the RV, William handed her a small bottle of something that looked like baby oil and said, "You look like a very bad leopard Halloween costume. Miss Barker said this would help remove the electrodes. She said it would be best if you took a long, hot shower and peeled them off while you were still under the water." The shower felt very good. The stuff in the bottle wasn't baby oil, or at least it had a totally different smell and seemed much thinner. It did, however really help in removing the electrode patches from her body. The center of each electrode had sort of gel-like adhesive which pulled off rather easily, but there was a band of glue around the outside edges that stuck firmly to her skin. The couple of electrodes which she tried to pull off without the oil felt like they took the top layer of skin with them. By the time she got out of the shower William had supper waiting for her. After she had cleaned up the kitchen, she and William watched TV until bed time. As they were walking back toward the bedrooms, she said, "The bottle says that I should use that oil overnight to help my skin heal. Would you rub it on for me like you normally do with the ointment?" William knew that the bottle of oil said nothing on it, but he just nodded his head and followed her into her bedroom. She lay face down on the bed and he carefully massaged the oil into her back and legs. "I think it needs to be on my front, too," she said as she rolled over onto her back." "Oh," he said as he poured a small amount onto her stomach and began rubbing it in. He next did her legs and then moved up to her breasts. By the time he began massaging the oil into her breasts, her nipples were stiff and tall. She moaned softly as he first touched her breasts. "If you need me to take you to orgasm," he said softly, "all you really need to do is ask. You don't have to invent false directions from a bottle that I read very carefully before giving you." She looked up at him with big, wet eyes and said in a shaky voice, "Please. I need someone to touch me that isn't hurting me. I need you to give me true pleasure. I need to cum from pleasure, not from pain." William said nothing but instead poured more oil onto her stomach and began to massage it downward between her legs. She opened her legs for him and sightly raised her knees. The oil was very slippery and his hands were very gentle as his fingers rubbed over and into her cunt. Her own lubrication added to the slipperiness as the fingers of one hand pushed into her cunt while the fingers of the other hand danced circles around her throbbing clit. In a very short time, missy was thrashing on the bed in an intense orgasm what she would later call a "real orgasm." When her body had stopped shuddering and she began to relax back into the bed, she again turned her eyes toward William and said, "Thank you, Master. Your slave needed that very, very much." Her eyes then closed and she quickly faded into sleep. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF CHAPTER NINE OF THIRTEEN = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Chapter Summaries Chapter One: Vicki LeClaire is convicted of all charges. A sentencing agreement is negotiated by William Wilson, a professional slave sentence negotiator. This chapter primarily sets the scene for the rest of the book. Once that is done, the action near the end centers around public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Two: Vicki's "Day of Repentance" and her humiliating descent into slavery, including being renamed as slave missy. This chapter centers primarily on public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Three: The first of missy's 11 days of public punishment. On this first day of punishment, Master Hiroya Takahashi demonstrates properly-trained pony girls, and instructs missy on the proper way to receive a punishment spanking. The focus of this chapter is pony girls and public spanking. Chapter Four: The second day of punishment begins with a flogging contest by a company called Judicial Placements Incorporated. Her negotiator... and new Master, William Wilson, flogs missy the required forty-six times to fulfill the terms of her sentence. This chapter is totally focused on non-consensual flogging. Chapter Five: Slave missy's third day of punishment. She is once again subject to a spanking, this time by the head of a private girls' reformatory. Before her spanking, several of the young women from the reformatory also receive public punishment. This is a spanking chapter with bare hand, slipper, paddle, and leather belt. Chapter Six: The fourth day. On this day of punishment, she is caned... by a robot, or more accurately, by a computer-driven mechanical spanking machine. Before her caning, James Madison demonstrates his company's machines. This chapter focuses on mechanical flogging, paddling, and caning. It also delves into self-bondage and pain-pleasure. Chapter Seven: The fifth day. Slave missy is punished by water combined with heat, cold, and electricity. This chapter focuses on various types of water punishment. Chapter Eight: On the sixth day of her punishment, missy is introduced to "The Whipmaster." Before punishing her he provides a demonstration of his abilities. The chapter is focused on public nudity, public humiliation, and public flogging of one sort or another. Chapter Nine: The seventh day for slave missy is a day for electro-punishment. Slave missy becomes part of the vidshow, "Wheel of Pleasure / Wheel of Pain." Chapter Ten: The eighth day introduces a unique punishment punishment by combat. There is also an undercard of slave wrestling with humiliation and pain in store for the loser. Chapter Eleven: The ninth day of punishment is a lottery. The public is given the chance to paddle the repentant terrorist. Eight lucky winners each get to give her five swats with a special paddle. One lucky winner gets to finish the forty-six required for her punishment by laying six swats of the paddle across missy's ass. The undercard is also part of the lottery. Three slaves in need of punishment will each receive 20 swats, again with one lottery winner delivering 5 of those swats. In addition there are two volunteers. One is a male member of the stage crew who is coming out as a pain slut. The other is a woman who has been at every performance so far and wants to experience public punishment and humiliation. Hers is a special case and her husband will deliver however many swats it takes to make her cum. Twenty-five winners were chosen to participate. Each was asked to write a short essay saying why they should be the one to deliver the final six to the repentant terrorist. The winner finishes off missy. Chapter Twelve: This tenth day returns missy to old school punishment as she receives an old- fashioned caning. There is also a contest between slaves to see who can withstand the most strokes of the cane. Chapter Thirteen: (Last Chapter) Slave missy finally reaches her final day of punishment. After having been punished by hand, slipper, paddle, cane, water, and electricity, missy is punished with pleasure. She is strapped into a high-tech denial/teasing/edging device and taken to the very brink of orgasm 46 times.

Metamorphosis by The Technician Sci-Fi / Fantasy / Machine / Lesbian / Female Masturbation / Spanking / Flogging = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = AI Metal changes a woman's body and life - a Kafkaesque story. Franz Kafka had a great influence on writing and literature in the 20th century. Even today, strange and/or creepy stories are called Kafkaesque. In his novella "Die Verwandlung" (usually translated into English as "Metamorphosis") a man slowly turns into a cockroach. In my version of Metamorphosis, I go one up on Kafka. Not only does a woman totally change, her entire world changes around her. More than that, she becomes something much, much more interesting than a cockroach. The story is told in the form of "Autolog" entries. In the future, Autolog entries have replaced blogging, tweeting, and other forms of posting as a person's thoughts are automatically recorded for all to see. I don't really like this story, but it is a writer's equivalent of an "ear worm" that keeps playing in my head. The only way to get rid of an "ear worm" is to sing the stupid song. The only way to get rid of a "writer's worm" is to finish the story and post it... so I did. In one of my English courses in college most of the class became almost orgasmic about "Metamorphosis". I didn't like it. The professor asked each of us to say why we thought Kafka wrote it. I was one of the last to answer and I said, "He needed the money." According to the professor, I was right. Kafka always said that he hated "Metamorphosis" but wouldn't say why. He was asked in a newspaper interview shortly before his death in 1924 if he had ever written anything just for the money. His answer, "Die Verwandlung." Many think that it is his greatest work. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician} Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Judith Conroy Autolog Entry 3619-107-09- 27 I did it! I smuggled AIM out of the facility. No one is supposed to be able to get their hands on Artificial Intelligence Metal, but I did it! I have been planning this for a long, long time. And my plan worked!!! My first plan was going to be misdirecting an emergency repair kit to a fictitious damaged space craft to replace one used on a mission. It was a good plan, but there are too many cross-checks meant to guarantee that every gram of AIM is accounted for. Misdirecting a kit would have been no problem. I send out replacement kits all the time, and as long as a shipment receipt was included to close the case file, no one would notice. But I knew that any kit issued is automatically cross-referenced against damage reports and vice versa. I would have also had to create a false battle or accidental damage report in the system. That would have involved getting into military planning records that I can't access with my current clearances. Besides, there aren't that many battles or accidents. I would be able to get by with something like that only once, and one kit wouldn't have enough Artificial Intelligence Metal for what I wanted to do. There isn't all that much AIM in a repair kit because you don't need a lot of AIM to repair a damaged spacecraft, regardless of how big it is or how badly it is damaged. That's the beauty of AIM. Once you put it in place and activate it, AIM merges itself with the metals already present in the craft and it changes the characteristics of that metal. For a short while, almost all metal in the whole ship can become quasi-sentient and self- repairing. So, all you really need is a little bit to start the process. I need more because I am not going to use AIM on a space craft. I am going to use it on a human body-- eventually. For now, I need to run a series of tests on lower life forms to prove that AIM can be used to repair or modify a living organism. Once I prove my theories, I can get investors and then legally obtain and market AIM for medical uses. A short while after that I will be rich beyond even my wildest dreams. But first I have to prove that AIM will work for medical purposes, and the tests needed to prove that will take at least three times more AIM than is in just one kit. What I smuggled out of the facility today was the equivalent of four kits. I would never have been able to misdirect four kits. Actually, getting the AIM out of the facility once I had acquired it was the easiest part. AIM isn't explosive or poisonous, it won't trigger the automatic vapor sensors. The scanners we have to pass through each day can't penetrate the thick metal of our security briefcases, so we have to open them each morning and evening for visual inspection by the guards. The guards are so used to quickly shuffling through layers and layers of papers checking for contraband, that they didn't notice that the inside of my briefcase, itself, was slightly brighter than usual. That's because taped to the inside was a thin slab of AIM protected by an unmarked transport stability pack. Transport stability packs are normally used to safely contain bulk blocks of AIM before they are broken up into the 4.5 gram nuggets used in the repair kits. The stability packs also help prevent the AIM from being accidentally activated. Proper activation is essential to AIM. The amount needed to "seed" a repair is only 4 grams, but to allow for the possibility that a portion of the nugget might not properly activate, all repair kits are stocked with exactly 4.5 grams of AIM. The exactness of that measurement is what gave me the opening I needed to accumulate my needed amount of AIM. Getting it was tedious, but very easy. We have to sign out any AIM from Central Stores when we do experiments or tests in the lab. It is signed back in again when we return it to Central Stores. I took advantage of the fact that the scales at Central Stores measure to one one-hundredth of a gram, but the property ticket that it prints rounds to the nearest tenth. We have been dividing and certifying AIM nuggets for repair kits for the past three months. Each time I started on a new kit, I would go to Central Stores and carve off a nugget that was exactly 4.54 grams. With an electronic scalpel, that isn't as hard to do as it sounds. The property ticket would read 4.5 grams. When I got it down to my lab, I would carefully shave .09 grams off the nugget before I began my tests. The nugget, which now weighed 4.45 grams would be within spec for the repair kits, and the property ticket when I turned it back in would read 4.5 grams. After I had tested 200 nuggets, I had 18 grams of AIM hidden in my work area. Just to be sure that I was not discovered in a random log audit, I instructed my Autolog Thought Recorder to erase any entries which dealt with shaving the nuggets or smuggling materials out of the labs or using AIM for medical purposes. I then set up this special log on a private portion of my storage area and gave detailed and explicit instructions to my Autolog profile to log everything that had to do with my special experiments to this log file... and ONLY this log file. The Autolog doesn't record everything, so this record will be somewhat incomplete. But it does summarize or make notes of anything which I consider be important. I very rarely have to edit my Autologs. They are almost as if I had dictated them later for the record. In case something goes wrong, I have set this log to become public if I no longer make entries to it for a period of 100 days. Judith Conroy Autolog Entry 3619- 109-13-51 Today is a rest day and I have taken the next two weeks as vacation so I will have time to conduct my experiments. If everything goes as planned, I may never have to return to work at the facility. I am starting with a small rodent. I have intentionally broken one of its forearms-- I used anesthetic-- and am taping a very small amount of AIM to his now- useless paw. When I pulse the activator, the AIM should become active and merge with his flesh and bone. It will learn of the break and repair it. Then, if it follows design criteria, it should shut itself down so that it is once again safe to handle. Judith Conroy Autolog Entry 3619- 110-01-03 Something is wrong! AIM almost instantly repaired the rat's broken bone, but it didn't deactivate as programmed. It continued to modify the rat's body. It's teeth began to grow at a tremendous rate and it began attacking the plastic sides of the observation cage. Luckily I had planned for all contingencies and had conducted the experiment in a military- grade biological test station. I immediately triggered the primary containment protocol. Gas filled the test station-- and the observation cage. This should have quickly euthanized the rodent, but it had no effect and the super rat continued to grow larger and gnaw at the plastic of the cage. When it chewed through the small observation cage I was forced to resort to triggering the emergency biological hazard containment response. The rat, its cage, and everything within the test station was instantly incinerated. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing in the test area except ash and a very small nugget of Artificial Intelligence Metal. I brushed the ash into the waste opening and sealed the receptacle. The AIM nugget I put into a small containment case so I could transfer it back to the main block later today. Judith Conroy Autolog Entry 3619-110-12-42 Something went terribly, terribly wrong when I picked up the block of AIM from which I had carved the small nugget to test on the rodent. It was still partially wrapped in the transport stability film which kept it stable and concealed it while I smuggled it out of the lab. But as I lifted the block, I felt it quiver. It was active! My homemade activation device was evidently more powerful than what we use at the lab. Or, perhaps, my design allowed for a lot more radiation leakage into the surrounding area. Perhaps it has something to do with my changing the frequency of the pulse so it would activate the AIM for living tissue rather than standard space metals. In any case, when I pulsed the small nugget, the pulse must have activated the entire block. Maybe it would have made a difference if the stability pack had been resealed, but even open, the bulk block was farther away from the test bench than it would have been at the facility. None of that makes any difference, though. The reality was that, however and whyever it occurred, the main block was active. I had safely handled accidentally activated AIM before, but the slight movement startled me, causing me to almost drop the block. When I grabbed at it to keep it from falling, my hand came in contact with the unshielded AIM-- all 18 grams of it. The Artificial Intelligence Metal immediately attached to my hand and merged into my body. I tried to reach for the activator to send a deactivation pulse, but my arms refused to move. The sensations are phenomenal. I can feel my body changing... no healing. My left ankle, which I broke many years ago and has bothered me ever sense, is suddenly like new. Something is wrong with my vision. My vision is blurry. I took out my contact lenses and my vision is perfectly clear. I've worn glasses since I was nine, but my vision is now perfect. Every place in my body that I have ever injured is restoring itself to like new. Even the little scar on my knee is gone. Oh my God! My breasts are starting to grow. I have always wanted larger tits, but have always thought that even the best implants look artificial. I have to take off my bra. It's too tight. My jeans are also getting tight. The waistband is cutting me in half because my flat butt is no longer flat. My body now curves rather than going straight down from my shoulders to my toes. I had to take everything off. I am now staring at the changes in my body in my reflection on the front of the test chamber. I was a 34B. Now I am a 36C plus. They're not udders, but they look really good on me. My waist is smaller, but my hips are slightly larger. My thighs have a slight curve to them on the outside, as do my calves. I look like what I always envisioned as a perfect me. As I turn, I can see that my ass is nicely rounded out also. I was always teased about my slightly flat butt, but now it, too, is perfect. One surprise is that all hair from the neck down seems to be disappearing. That isn't really healing, but I have always hated the hairy thatch between my legs that was way too dark, way too thick, and way too bushy. If I didn't keep it trimmed, it grew out of my panties within a month or two. If I tried to shave it, I got razor burns and ingrown nubs. My one attempt at waxing was a painful disaster. Now my pussy is beautifully smooth, and so are my legs and arms and underarms. My teeth are repairing themselves. All of my fillings are gone. The chipped tooth from where I fell in eighth grade has even filled itself back in. I turn slowly in front of the mirror-like front of the test station. My body is PERFECT! But it isn't stopping. I can feel it talking to my brain. I know that sounds weird, but the AIM is gathering up my thoughts. I know it is! I often wished that I was a blonde with blue eyes. It has somehow recognized that wish and my hair is lightening. My skin is getting paler. The eyes looking back at me from the reflection are now linen flower blue. Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! What if it picks up on my fantasies? Will it think that those fantasies are actually what I want? I need to shut it off! But the de-activation pulses are not working! Maybe if I inject myself with a powerful sedative, it will stop AIM's mind reading until it cycles down on its own and deactivates in twenty hours or so. Injecting now. This will knock me out for at least 72 hours. Judith Conroy Autolog Entry 3619-112-22-74 It's dark. I woke up here a few minutes ago, naked and lying on the soft floor. It took me several moments to remember what had happened. I had accidentally infected myself with Artificial Intelligence Metal. I took off all my clothes because of how it had changed my body. Then I injected myself with a powerful sedative so I would be unconscious until the AIM deactivated itself. I know where I am. I know why I am naked. I'm in the lab. I'm lying on the carpet naked in my home laboratory. Wait a minute! The lab has concrete floors. Why am I lying on a carpet? The room has changed. It is still my home lab... but it isn't. I can see the test station in the background, but the lighting is different, and I'm definitely lying on a carpet. I know this carpet! I'm trying to remember from where. It has a strange pattern on it. It looks like... Tinkerbell Wings! This is the carpet from my bedroom growing up. I don't know what the pattern was supposed to be-- maybe butterflies-- but I always called it Tinkerbell Wings. Walls are forming around me, shutting off the rest of the lab. There are large images on the walls. A four-poster bed-- my bed-- is rising from the floor, building itself as it grows higher. I know where I am! This is my room as it was when I was a senior in high school. Something is moving me... or my muscles are rippling in an odd, snake-like way and slithering me up into the bed. In any case, I am literally flowing across the floor and up into the bed. I am now on my back in the middle of my bed. I can see something on the bed between my legs. It is my Addam's Family Coin Bank. My parents gave me that bank when I was a small kid. I don't know where they got it, but it has a picture of the Addam's Family house from the TV show on its front. On the top are pictures of Gomez and Morticia. If you place a coin in a little groove on the lid, it plays the Addam's Family theme song and the dis- embodied hand, Thing, reaches out from the box and snatches the coin back into the bank. When I was a senior in high school, I used to have this weird fantasy about that hand. After a particularly unsatisfying evening with one or another inexperienced and bumbling young man, I would lay in bed and fantasize about what should have been and bring myself off. Because I wanted to imagine that it wasn't really my hands pleasuring me, sometimes I would set the coin bank on my bed between my legs and imagine that Thing crawled out of his box and came up between my legs to take me to the heights of pleasure. Of course, that never really happened... until now. Morticia and Gomez were laughing on the lid of the strange bank as it opened and Thing slowly crawled across the sheets between my legs. My mind wanted to slam my legs together, but instead my body opened wider for him. The fingers tickled slightly as they wiggled their way between my thighs and up onto my mound. The hand danced around so that the fingers could, oh so gently, begin to trace the outline of my cunt. As the fingers moved over my mound, I found myself becoming totally wet and aroused. I started to bring my own hand down to my breast, but couldn't. Somehow my hands were now restrained. Black, satin ropes ran from the corner posts of my bed to leather cuffs which encircled my wrists. I felt a tug at my legs and realized similar ropes were now pulling at my ankles. This was exactly what I would envision in my 18-year-old fantasies. I know what is coming next... I mean, besides me. Thing's fingers continue their slow circles around my cunt and now begin to also nudge my pleasure nub. Thing seems to know exactly what I want. His motions are slow and consistent, causing slow, consistent waves of pleasure to flow from between my legs and travel throughout my body. The hand is now slowly penetrating me. It is so gentle, almost as gentle as I, myself, was back then. Very slowly two, then three fingers push their way into my sopping pussy. I remember wondering back then what it would feel like to be fisted, but never had the guts to push my hand all the way into myself. I shouldn't have thought that! The AIM can read my thoughts! Thing's hand is now pushing deeper and deeper into me. The cone formed by four fingers and a thumb is stretching me. The sensations are overwhelming. It is stretching me tremendously, but it isn't painful like I thought it would be. The pressure pushes against my clit as the hand forces its way deeper and deeper and deeper into me. And as the hand withdraws it pulls on the inside of my cunt creating strange sensations within me. I am getting close. I can feel my pussy twitching with anticipation. The hand is going deeper, deeper, deeper. It went inside of me! Thing is fisting me! But thing has no arm, so his hand has disappeared up inside me. I can feel it wiggling its way back out. The fingers are reaching out from between my pussy lips and reaching up to massage my now throbbing clit. I close my eyes. The feelings of pleasure are intense, but my mind cannot handle the image of a hand masturbating me from within my cunt. Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! I can't believe how high I am going. The world is exploding around me. Everything is going dark. Judith Conroy Autolog Entry 3619 114 09 21 I don't know how long I was unconscious-- or asleep-- or both. I feel like it should be the next day, but there are no windows in the lab area, so I can't see outside. Wait! I am outside! The sun is shining down on my skin. Am I hallucinating now? I can see the trees in the back yard. There are flashing lights all around, but I really can't tell what they are. I can also hear the noise of many large motors. Some of them are lugging down as if doing very hard work, but even so, they sound like they are far away, or perhaps beyond very thick walls. Now, I am suddenly back inside. But where? This isn't my lab anymore. There is nothing that looks familiar. I'm in a bed once again, but it is smaller than the bed that was in my bedroom at my parent's home, and much smaller than the bed in my current bedroom. The ceiling seems too close. Wait! That isn't a ceiling. It's the bottom of an upper bunk. I know where I am. I'm at Green Valley Summer Camp! My parents talked me into being a camp counselor the summer before I started college. A friend of my dad's ran the camp and they were desperate for someone over the age of 18 with a good driving record to drive their vans back and forth to and from the creeks and lakes and so forth. I argued that I didn't want to be a glorified babysitter for three months, but dad promised I would have a cabin of my own and wouldn't have responsibility for the little campers. He was almost truthful. Karen, the other driver, and I had a cabin to ourselves up on the hill behind the garages. And there were always regular counselors with the kids when they rode on the busses. What dad didn't tell me is that there was absolutely no TV reception at the camp; wifi was available only in the main lounge; and the closest cellphone signal was four miles outside the main gate. After two months of absolute boredom, Karen and I were sitting alone in our cabin one rainy night and I asked, "What did people do with no internet and no cell phones?" Karen laughed and ran her hand down the back of my T-shirt while she whispered in my ear, "They had sex. Lots and lots and lots of sex." "Are you propositioning me!?" I sputtered out. She smiled back at me and said, "No, I'm offering... if you're interested. If not, I'm going for a wet hike in the woods with that scrumptious secretary who lives in the rooms beneath the offices." I declined her offer, but after she left, I found myself in my bunk fantasizing about what could have been if I had not been such a chicken. A voice brought me back from my remembrances. "Having second thoughts?" Karen asked me. Was this another hallucination? Or maybe none of it was hallucination and AIM was actually constructing the people that I imagined. Karen certainly felt real. I pulled her close to me and said, "No, I'm just not hiding the thoughts I had back then." Karen laughed. It was the deep throaty laugh that I remembered from that summer. As she laughed, I felt her hand slip beneath my sweatshirt. Her lips found mine as her hand found the clasp on the back of my bra. Her lips were much softer than a man's. Or more accurately, her kiss was much softer. She knew exactly how much pressure to use to create the maximum pleasure. She also knew how to unhook a bra one-handed because somewhere between the third and fourth kiss, I felt my bra come loose. I reached beneath Karen's camp T-shirt and found that she was not wearing a bra. She never did, despite having been warned about that several times by the camp manager. My hands moved to her breasts and I rubbed the palms of my hands very lightly against the tips of her nipples. She responded with a moan and slid her tongue very slightly into my mouth. I opened my lips just a little to let her know that it was OK and she pushed further into me. Her breath blew into me as I lightly pinched her nipples and she again moaned. I don't remember her removing my blouse, but when I pulled her T-shirt over her head, her naked breasts suddenly were pressed against my own. I felt her hand on my ass. My shorts were evidently now gone also. I had fantasized about her many times since that summer, but have never truly been with a woman. I wasn't sure what to do. Karen sensed that and said softly, "We have several options. We could take each other high with our hands... or with our mouths... or just by rubbing against each other.' As she finished that last sentence, she slid over slightly so that her leg was between my legs pressing hard against my cunt. That meant that my leg was also between her legs and she was slowly humping herself against my thigh while sliding her thigh against my sex. I gasped loudly as she pressed into me and then moaned as her leg moved slowly up and down. I tried to return the movement so that Karen would feel what I was feeling but I wasn't able to move against her in the same way she was moving against me. Still, we were both climbing higher and higher. I could hear her grunting as she thrust against me. I didn't realize it at first, but I was grunting even louder than Karen. Except for the grunting, Karen said nothing as we approached climax. I, however, was screaming something. I think it was "God!" but it might have been Karen's name. Then I totally let go as I screamed and shook and went over the top and once again, everything went dark. Judith Conroy Autolog Entry 3619 115 08 17 Again, I have no real idea of how much time has passed, but it feels like it is at least the next day. When I first opened my eyes, I was outside, but almost immediately walls again began to form around me. Everything is wooden. It is dim, almost dark, and there are strange, terrible smells in the air. I try to stand up, but cannot. The floor is moving. Everything is moving. I can hear the creaking and groaning of wood as the floor rises and falls. I know where I am! I am on a ship! Oh, please no! I look around at my surroundings. I am definitely between decks on an old wooden sailing vessel of some sort. This can mean only one thing. My pirate fantasy! I was in college when Pirates of the Carribean came out and I had a deep crush on Johnny Depp. I had this fantasy where... NO! Don't think about it. AIM reads my mind. If I think about it, it will do what I think. I have to just let things happen. Maybe it will be different from my weird college coed thoughts. Maybe it won't happen at all. I can hear people coming down the stairs-- I guess they call them ladders on a ship like this. There seem to be six or eight men. Since this is my Fantasy, I look hopefully for Captain Jack Sparrow, but my hopes are dashed when Captain Hector Barbossa instead steps in front of me and says, "Be careful what ye wish for, Missy. Ye just might get it." Two of the men grab my arms and pull me to a large area in the center of the deck. Wooden grates are being pulled open above me. It must be night because no light comes into the hold from above. In the dim and flickering light of the ship's lanterns, I can see a heavy, old-fashioned hemp rope descending through the opening. The large rope is fastened to the middle of a short spar which spins slightly as it hangs from the rope. On each end of the spar hang smaller ropes with leather restraint cuffs attached to them. I don't remember this from my college fantasy. My wrists are now bound in the leather cuffs. A second, smaller spar is attached between my ankles so that my legs are spread wide. I should never have looked at those porn sites with women suspended and stretched by spreader bars. Or at least, I shouldn't have gotten wet while looking at them. One of the scruffier- looking sailors steps forward and rips open the top of my dress. Dress!? I hadn't realized I was wearing clothing until he began to tear it off me. Soon I was once again naked and hanging slightly off the ground. Having had clothing even for such a brief time made me notice that much more that it was gone and I was naked in front of these terrible men. My body begins to slowly rotate and I watch the faces of the six pirates. Their eyes burn with lust... or maybe they just reflect the increasing lust that is probably showing in my own eyes as my body responds to thoughts that used to be hidden deep within me. Captain Barbossa reached up and stopped me from spinning. He leaned in close to me and said in his overly polite-way of speaking, "Well, Missy, we need a wee bit of information from ye." Picking up a long whip he gave me a very broad smile and added, "... and I think ye will tell us." Wait a minute! This isn't at all like my fantasy! I am supposed to be in the Captain's cabin in bed with Jack Sparrow, not strung up naked for all the crew to see. I am supposed to be making wild, passionate love, not getting flogged!!!! A sudden, intense pain slashed across my back as the whip struck the first time. "That was just to get your attention and encourage ye to answer me properly," he said, again with his overly-effusive smile. "What do you want to know?" I answered back through gritted teeth. The pain was gone from my back almost as soon as it had appeared and I could feel the AIM healing the deep welt the whip had made. Because of the AIM, the whip could not truly damage me, but it could really HURT. Why didn't the AIM stop the pain? " Tis simple, lass," he said with a laugh. "We just need to know exactly how you got the Artificial Intelligence Metal out of stock without anyone knowing. We know you carried it out in your briefcase, but what we don't understand is how you got your hands on it in the first place." My mind was swirling. Was this my own subconscious fear of getting caught creating a living nightmare? Was this a corrupted form of one of my own fantasies? In any case, I somehow knew that I couldn't reveal how I had obtained the AIM. I was afraid that my life depended on me not saying how I did it. The whip fell again and again and again. But the AIM had read the desperate plea in my mind. On the second strike, the AIM began blocking the pain as well as healing the cuts on my back. With each strike, the pain became less, and I started laughing. Anyone watching would have thought that I had lost my mind. After all, here I was hanging in a big naked X in the hold of a pirate ship with a large, brutal man swinging at me with all his strength. I was being brutally flogged, but I was laughing hysterically. "You can whip me all you want," I finally answered. "The AIM will protect and heal me." "I told you that wouldn't work, Hector," said a very pleasant voice from behind me. "But you always fire the cannons before you're in range." The person speaking slowly walked around in front of me. Captain Jack had made his appearance at last. He reached up with one hand and softly caressed my breast. "What my mutinous first mate doesn't realize," he said with a smile, "is that the magic metal will protect you from pain because that is what it is designed to do. Pain means something is broken, and AIM fixes things that are broken." He rolled my nipple slowly between his fingers and it stiffened slightly to his touch. "But pleasure means things are working properly. AIM will not protect you from pleasure... no matter how intense that pleasure becomes." Captain Jack Sparrow's smile seemed much more genuine, but at the same time, much more frightening than Barbossa's obviously false one. He leaned forward and gently pulled my nipple between his lips. At first he was kissing it, but soon he was softly suckling as moans began to escape from my mouth. His fingers were now moving slowly and softly up and down my entire body. For a moment he stood alongside me with one hand running down my front and the other running down my back. As his hands reached my middle, he brought them together between my legs so that his fingertips touched beneath me. He then lifted slightly with both hands so that the hand in front was pressing against my cunt and the hand in back was pressing against my rosebud. After a moment of pressure, the fingers continued their gentle journey down my right leg. When he reached my foot, he reversed his path and returned to my crotch where he once again pressed against my cunt and ass before going down my left leg. As he reached my left foot, his hands continued downward and off my body. I was breathing very deeply as he lightly kissed my lips and softly said, "Are you ready to tell us what we need to know?" I tried to answer, "No!" But it came out as "Nooooooooooooooooooooooo," as his hand returned to my cunt and his fingers began to lightly swirl around my clit. "You like that, don't you?" he asked. My only answer was another moan as his hands continued to move on my body. For just an instant I thought to myself that a couple more sets of hands would feel even better. I immediately regretted that thought as four more hands joined Jack's on my body. I looked around to see who the new people were and looked into the eyes of two more Jack Sparrows. "You get used to that after a while," the first Captain Sparrow said with a musical laugh, "especially if you've ever been to the locker." Six hands were roaming all over my body. Two of the Jack Sparrows were in front of me now, their mouths slowly engulfing my nipples. My moans were becoming louder and I was starting to buck and swing as I hung from the spar. I wondered where the third Jack had gone, and I thought to myself, "I know where I want him to be." "Don't add to the fantasy!" I screamed aloud to myself, but it was too late. The third Jack was now kneeling in front of me with his face pressed against my glistening cunt. My body was thrashing and waving in my restraints. My arms were held outstretched by the restraints from which I hung and my legs were similarly outstretched by the restraints attached to the lower spar. Held in a taut X, all I was able to do was twist and buck like a loose sail in the wind. I know I have orgasmed at least twice, but I am still being driven higher and higher. "You can end all this, Missy," said Barbossa. "All ye have to do is tell us how ye stole the AIM." I tried to look him in the eye, but my body was too far into the orgasms to allow any control. "Why would I want to stop this?" I asked in a very shaky voice before screaming out in another orgasm. And then another. And then another. Each orgasm was more intense than the one before. "AIM makes things perfect," Barbossa answered with his evil sounding laugh. "Do ye think ye can survive a perfect orgasm?" I tried to answer, but a fourth Captain Jack joined the trio. This one was naked. His manhood was jutting upward in front of him as he stepped between my legs. He made a motion with one of his hands, and the rope was lowered slightly so that I settled down onto that magnificent prick. He began thrusting inside of me. Almost immediately, my cunt once again spasmed and my body thrashed and bucked against his thrusts. I screamed out in the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced and everything went dark. Judith Conroy Autolog Entry 3619 116 14 34 When I awoke, I was once again outside. This time, I tried to concentrate on what was going on around me. The sun was high in the sky. I was definitely at my house... or where my house used to be. I could dimly see the houses across the street. I could almost make out the trees in my neighbors' back yards. For some reason the large maple tree next to my house seemed to have disappeared. Concentrating as hard as I could on what I thought I was seeing, I could make out deep trenches that seemed to be dug in the ground around where my house used to sit. There seemed to be many very large pieces of construction equipment nearby. Hundreds of flashing lights reflected off the enclosure in which I was lying. A loud voice vibrated the plastic. "Judith, can you hear me?" it said. "If you can, nod your head." I nodded my head and stood up. I was totally naked. There was nothing there except me and the plastic which surrounded me. "Do you know where you are?" the voice asked. I shook my head no. "We have contained the contamination," the voice explained. "You are in a containment vessel." I looked at the plastic around me. Except for the fact that it was many, many times larger, it was exactly the same as the observation cage in which I had tested the rodent. Fear flooded my mind as I remembered what happened to that rat. Was I to be incinerated as it had been to contain a biohazard? No sooner had I thought that than a solid metal cube surrounded me. "No, no, no," I screamed out, but it was too late. I was now trapped within whatever my mind-- and the AIM-- had formed. "What have I gotten myself into?" I wailed. "I should never have done this." No sooner had I said that than the room around me began changing. Again everything was wooden, but this time it was more modern. A strangely-shaped wooden bench filled the center of the room. My body did that strange rippling thing with my muscles and I flowed across the floor and up onto the bench. As soon as I was in place, leather restraints formed to hold me in place. I wish I didn't know what this bench is, but I have seen it many times on some of the websites I visit. It is a spanking bench. A rough voice calls my name, "Judith," it said, "do you know why you are being punished?" I want to say "No!" but the truth is I know why I am being punished. I stole Artificial Intelligence Metal from the government facility where I work. I had hoped to prove that it could be used to heal people and get rich producing and selling it for medical purposes. Instead, all I had done was to create this constantly changing hell in which I was trapped. "Yes," I sobbed out. "How many strokes should you receive as punishment?" the voice asked. "One hundred eighty," I replied. "That is ten for each gram of AIM that I stole." I don't know why I said that. Perhaps I thought that if I was sufficiently punished I might escape this purgatory. The man walked around in front of me. I was surprised that he looked artificial. Then I recognized him. This was the man in the dungeon on that CGI dungeon site that I sometimes visited. "Now we know how much you took," he said. "All you need to do for all of this to stop is to tell us how you gathered together 18 grams of AIM without anybody knowing... or even suspecting. The last person who tried to steal AIM got caught when he attempted to misdirect a kit... and that is only 4.5 grams." Then he started whipping me. I concentrated as hard as I could for the AIM to both heal me and take away the pain. Maybe I overdid it, because on about the fourth strike of the whip, it started feeling good... really good. I don't know how many times he brought that terrible whip down on my back and ass. I do know that each time he struck I gasped, not in pain, but in pleasure. I am now screaming, "More! More! More!" It seems to anger him and he swings higher and puts more muscle behind each strike. I am starting to feel pain along with the pleasure. It is a strange mixture of sensations that is driving me higher than even my previous fantasies. I can feel it boiling from deep within me. I know it will be tremendous, but I want it. I can hear Barbossa's warning that I would not survive a perfect orgasm. I don't care. I want it. I want it. I ... "Aieeeeeee" Judith Conroy Autolog Entry 3619 116 19 08 I must have passed out for a short while. He is still whipping me and my body is still responding with pleasure. "This can go on forever," said the artificial man. "Just tell us how you stole the AIM." I opened my mouth to speak, but instead screamed out once again as another orgasm overwhelmed me. Judith Conroy Autolog Entry 3619 117 01 14 I passed out again. I don't know for how long. "AIM can't protect you from pleasure," the CGI man said with a sinister laugh. "This WILL eventually destroy you." He swung the whip upwards so that it struck between my legs. Evidently that took both me and the AIM by surprise because blinding pain washed over me only to be replaced almost immediately by pleasure that I thought I could never experience. "He is right." I admitted to myself. "I can't survive this forever. I need to tell them." "4.54 grams out, 4.45 grams back in," I shout out. "The receipts say 4.5 grams either way." The artificial man's voice became very soft, almost caring. "This is for your pleasure only, now." he crooned. "Relax. Let it overwhelm you. You will find sleep in the darkness. And when you awake this will be over." He swung again, softly this time. The result when the whip hit my cunt was waves of extreme pleasure... and darkness overwhelming me. Judith Conroy Autolog Entry 3619 119 09 43 I woke up slowly. I knew that I had been asleep, but wasn't sure for how long. Waking up is different from regaining consciousness, so I am pretty sure that I had been asleep. Besides, I felt rested. I look around. I am once again outside, but the plastic observation cage seems to have been moved out to the road and is slightly higher off the ground. I feel like at least a day has passed. Things seem slightly clearer than before. I can see vehicles and construction equipment and people walking around in various types of protection suits. I can hear a voice that I seem to recognize. It is calling to me. "Judith," it says, "concentrate on my voice. Try to block everything but my voice from your mind." Something like a drum is beating slowly. "Listen to the beat of the drum," the voice continues. "It and my voice are all you should think about. If you can concentrate on my voice and the beat of the drum you can remain in control." I try to do what he says. The beat of the drum is very comforting. Things are coming into focus. I can now clearly see that I am in a huge plastic observation cage sitting on a flatbed truck in front of where my house used to be. The house and most of my yard is gone. There is nothing there but a huge hole in the ground. My neighbors' houses are still there, but appear to be weirdly warped and damaged. Above me I can see small newsvid fliers as well as various military airships. Someone steps up to my cage. I can see through the visor of his protection suit that it is Doctor Hendricks, the supervisor of my lab. "Can you hear me, Judith?" he asks. I nod my head yes. "You did something very dangerous," he says. "We were very lucky to be able to contain the contamination." He paused and paced in front of the cage for a few moments. "No one has ever activated such a large amount of AIM into a living being before," he said. It almost sounded like he was genuinely concerned... or perhaps impressed. "We have read your autologs. We understand you had good intentions, but..." His voice faded away into silence. "Can you de-activate it?" I asked. I could feel tears flowing from my eyes. The long pause and the look on his face told me more than any words he might have said. "You and it are one," he finally answered. "We've tested a couple more rats. The only way to deactivate the AIM is to kill the host." "So I'm going to be incinerated," I said glumly. "No," he answered with a crooked smile. "You are safe from the fire. You have become much, much too valuable to incinerate. You are the only person in the world who has ever survived being merged with AIM. It has happened a couple times before in accidents, but the process was always fatal." He looked intently at me and pursed his lips as he formed his next words. "We need to find out why you are still alive," he said slowly. "And we need to find how to control it." He sounded almost excited as he asked "Do you realize what a self-repairing soldier that can modify his or her surroundings would be worth?" "So I am going to be an experiment at the facility?" I said. "That's not a whole lot better than being incinerated." "We have been able to watch everything," he replied. I felt myself growing very red as I thought about what "everything" must have looked like. His eyes continued to bore through me as he said in his professional, matter- of-fact tone, "I know that having your innermost sexual fantasies played out in public is very embarrassing. But those sexual fantasies seem to be an important part of how you have survived this." He coughed slightly and added, "We also noticed that questions we tried to ask you changed your fantasies-- sometimes quite dramatically. So, there is evidently some way to control this... eventually." It had been a very long pause before he said "eventually." He suddenly looked away, perhaps because he had just admitted that they couldn't really help me, or perhaps it was because he was afraid to admit that he somehow had projected some of his own fantasies into the AIM. I had never noticed before that he does bear an uncanny resemblance to Captain Barbossa. "Once we are back at the facility," he continued, "we will... ah... encourage you to go back into your fantasies and then see how we can guide what happens. Perhaps some day we can even figure out how to control what happens." He shrugged. "We may even discover how we can de-activate." "I guess that is better than being incinerated," I replied. He just smiled in response. "It would probably be best if we allowed you to fade out while we transport you," he said as he glanced over at several workers standing nearby. After a quick flash of another smile that I guess he intended to be reassuring, he added, "We will protect you from the eyes of the public en route." He made a motion with his hands and a large tarp was pulled up over the observation cage. The only sound is now the sound of straps being pulled tight over the covered cage. His voice is gone. The beat of the drums is fading away. The plastic cage is also starting to fade. "So what will it be?" I ask myself aloud. As if in answer, stone columns began to rise out of the plastic. Torches appear on the stone walls that now surrounded me. "Ah, yes," I say with a smile of my own. "It looks like I'm going to be visiting the King's Dungeon." = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Twelve Days a Slave 8 of 13 by The Technician Slavery, Public Nudity, Flogging = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Slave missy is introduced to "The Whipmaster." This is the story of a young woman's conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. After the woman is convicted, a "sentence negotiator" gets her sentence reduced to a public day of repentance followed by eleven days of public punishment. Following that, she is to serve one year of penal servitude. This story deals with non-consensual punishment, pain, and involuntary slavery. If such topics offend you or upset you, I would advise skipping this particular book. There are thirteen chapters to this story. The chapters can be read on their own, but the story is much better understood if the previous portions have been read. The complete story is full book length. I debated publishing it with some of my other books at Fiction4all, but decided that I would rather serialize it and post it here. A description of the thirteen chapters follows the end of each chapter. On the sixth day of her punishment, missy is introduced to "The Whipmaster." Before punishing her he provides a demonstration of his abilities. The chapter is focused on public nudity, public humiliation, and public flogging of one sort or another. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Chapter Eight - Slave missy meets The Whipmaster. William and missy's morning routine was quickly becoming exactly that... very routine. For missy, each morning was coffee, bacon, eggs, do dishes, grease herself up with the mixture of baby oil and baby gel, get in her cage, ride through downtown, then return to the fairgrounds and literally hang around until show time at two. The routine had been basically identical for five days and this day was starting out no different. Shortly after William locked her into her cage, however, something changed. Rather than immediately driving the ATV with the cage trailer and the rolling billboard downtown, William stood around looking nervously at his watch. "Is something wrong?" missy asked. "No problem," William replied. "He's not late... yet. He promised he would be here exactly at 8:00 and we still have a few minutes." He then went back to pacing and looking at his watch every few seconds. Missy was about to ask who "he" was when she heard the approaching roar of a motorcycle. Turning in the direction of the sound, she could see a large bike coming across the fairgrounds parking lot. There were two flags fluttering on poles attached to the bike. One was, of course, the American flag. The other at first appeared to be a pirate flag. It looked like a pirate flag. It was black and appeared to have the traditional skull and crossed bones on it. Something else appeared to be fluttering above the flags, but missy couldn't quite make out what that was. As the bike drew up to where William was impatiently waiting, missy could see that it was a Harley chopper. The front wheel had been extended significantly out in front of the bike and almost every surface of the bike including everything on the motor was bright, shiny, chrome. As he got closer, missy realized that what she had first thought to be crossed bones on a pirate flag turned out to be crossed whips and a oval signet-like emblem which said, "The Whipmaster" in old gothic-style lettering. The unknown items fluttering above the flags turned out to be long strands of black leather. The poles holding the flags had been wrapped with leather so they would look like the handles on a whip, and the strands were braided so that the two flag staffs appeared to be huge bullwhips. The man riding the Harley was as impressive as the bike itself. He was in his late twenties or early thirties with a very muscular build. He was wearing rather tight, black leather pants and a matching black leather vest. Since he was shirtless, his six-pack abs were on display, framed by the open front of the vest. The muscles of his arms rippled as he brought the bike to a halt alongside the cage. Missy could see that the black leather vest he was wearing had the same signet and crossed whips that decorated his flag. He brushed his long, black hair off his face and asked, "Do you want me leading or following?" "Leading, by all means," answered William. "You do remember the route we discussed, don't you?" In answer, the man tapped the side of his head with his finger and said, "Got it." He then smiled over at missy. His bright white teeth contrasted greatly with his immaculately trimmed, shiny black moustache and beard. For some reason, to missy, his whole appearance and demeanor made him look like someone trying to be a rock star from the 1960s. "Let's roll," shouted William as he got on the seat of the ATV. "... and remember to make three laps around the town square." He waited for the man to answer. When he did not, he added, "And only three!" In response the man once again tapped the side of his head and then revved the engine on the Harley. Despite the custom pipes, the sound of the engine retained that distinctive, almost musical, Harley roar. As they pulled out of the fairgrounds missy said aloud to herself, "I don't think I like him, but I have a feeling I am going to know The Whipmaster a whole lot better before the day is over." She kept her eye on him, but remained silent as their very short parade continued on its morning route. The crowds had gotten slightly smaller each morning as people became used to seeing the naked slave being displayed in her rolling cage. This morning, however, the roar of the Harley chopper and the huge flags streaming above The Whipmaster's head as he rode through town brought many people back to the sidewalks to watch them pass. Missy wondered why William had specified three trips around the town square. Usually they circled the square only once. As they completed their second loop, however, his plan became clear. There were twice as many people standing on the sidewalks on the second time around the square as there had been on the first lap. And more people were streaming out of the shops and offices to get a closer look at The Whipmaster. She wondered for a moment if they should take a fourth lap around the square, but then realized that the crowd seemed to have peaked. It was large, but very few additional people were coming out of the buildings. "Two wasn't enough," she thought to herself, "and four would have been too many." "P. T. Barnum could learn a trick or two from you, Mister Wilson," she shouted toward the ATV. She wasn't sure if William heard her or was just waving to the crowd, but his hand appeared to raise in response and give a slight wave as they turned back onto main street to return to the fairgrounds. Once there, The Whipmaster roared once around the race track and disappeared out one of the front entrances. In the meantime, William drove up onto the stage so missy's cage could be raised to its normal pre-show position. After William left, missy settled into her pre-show routine of watching the stage crew set up the equipment and slowly stroking herself to a satisfying plateau of sexual excitement. She wasn't seeking an orgasm, but she was making sure that she was turned on. Somehow, handling whatever pain was awaiting her in today's punishment was easier if her body was already experiencing sexual sensations. There didn't seem to be much in the way of equipment today. There were what appeared to be a dozen or so candlesticks set up in a circle in the center of the stage. On stage left was what appeared to be a very high spanking bench. From the restraints which were attached to it, it appeared to missy that a person was expected to lay their upper body over the padded bar. Their ankles would then be restrained to a low bar on the front. Their arms would be stretched down to a similar bar on the back side of the stand. The result was a very well-presented ass and totally exposed legs. Missy wondered whether it was going to be her wrists and ankles which were strapped to those bars. On stage right was an upright frame consisting of two poles attached to a wide base. Again, missy wondered if it would be her pulled taut between those uprights while The Whipmaster did his thing with a bullwhip. That thought caused her to shudder in fear. "William's right," she thought to herself. "Knowing what is coming is worse than not knowing." She decided it would be best to concentrate on what sensations her fingers could give her and not worry about what some egotistical wannabe rock star with a whip might do to her body. She closed her eyes and ignored the stage crew as they continued to set up equipment beneath her. She did not ignore her fingers. Around 1:30, she heard The Whipmaster's motorcycle rumble into the infield and park behind the stage. At 2:00, exactly on time as usual, William strode out onto the stage and welcomed the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, drawing out each word into several extra syllables. He was starting to sound more and more like a ringmaster at a circus or perhaps a ring announcer at a fight. "Today is day six of our repentant terrorist's days of punishment." William paused and missy could hear the sound of a motorcycle engine starting. "We have a very special treat for you today," he cried out and suddenly the rumble of a Harley filled the air. The Whipmaster roared out from behind the stage, flags fluttering, and rode completely around the fairgrounds race track as if taking a victory lap at the end of a race. When he got back to the grandstands and the stage, he came in at full throttle in front of the crowd, locked his brakes and pivoted on his left leg, spraying dirt and gravel in a wide arc around him. He stopped facing the crowd. There was a moment or so of complete silence before the crowd erupted with applause. "I present to you," William yelled above the crowd, "The Whipmaster!" The leather-clad man bowed from his seat on the Harley and then bowed once more after he had dismounted. He bowed a third time when he joined William on stage. "The Whipmaster," William began, "is going to be starting a world tour next month. He has chosen to sponsor this day of punishment as a preview of that tour." "Thank you, Mister Wilson," The Whipmaster said in a very heavily-accented voice. Missy couldn't place the accent, but somehow thought it was false. He's trying to sound like he's from Russia or some place like that," she said silently to herself. "but I bet he grew up in Chicago or New York." She huffed loudly before continuing, "He talks that way just to make himself sound sexy." Missy looked down at him as he bowed once more to the crowd's applause. This time, he bowed so deeply that his long black hair nearly touched the stage. Remaining bent over, he reached out and touched the finger tips of the women now standing at ground level in front of the stage. Missy watched as scores more women of all ages left their seats and crowded in front of the stage. "Well," she said aloud, "it works." He was a superb showman and she, as well as most of the women in the crowd, now thought The Whipmaster definitely looked and sounded very sexy. "I still don't like him," she said aloud. "... but I wouldn't kick him out of bed." He returned to stage center and a scantily-clad young woman rushed out to hand him two long- handled black whips. "As you can hear," he said to the crowd, "I have a little trouble with your language." He loudly snapped both whips above his head. Missy jumped in the cage even though the tips of the two whips had to still be several feet below her. It had sounded like a rifle shot. He snapped the whips in the direction of the audience and added, "So I will let my whips speak for me." In response, the crowd roared their approval. He snapped one of the whips three times and three more scantily-clad young women ran out onto the stage carrying lit candles. They put them into the candle holders and then ran back off stage for more. When they returned, the fourth young woman was with them, also carrying two candles. The girls set the candles in place and then began placing twelve of the candle holders in a large circle around him. The additional two, they placed just inside the circle on either side of him. He faced the left side of the stage and held both whips high above his head. He swung them slowly back and forth so that the leather seemed to writhe above his head like a thin, black snake. He then stood still for just a moment and simultaneously snapped one whip to the front and one to the back. There was a long silence until someone realized that both candles had been extinguished. The applause began with one person and grew in volume as more people recognized what he had done. The Whipmaster bowed deeply as two of his assistants ran on stage and carried the extinguished candles and their candle holders off stage. He then started snapping both whips rapidly all around him. When he stopped, there was a smattering of applause, but for the most part, the audience looked confused. All twelve of the candles were still burning brightly. He looked around as if he were confused and then shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated way. The four young women ran on stage as if to carry the candles and holders off as they had done before, but this time, they stopped just outside the circle and each grabbed two of the candles just below the top. They then stepped back holding just the top half of each candle. The Whipmaster had cut each candle in half without knocking it over or putting out the flame. The applause was deafening. He waited until the crowd had almost quieted down when he once more snapped his whips all around himself. All of the candles were now out, and the roar of the crowd was, if anything, even louder than before. He bowed several times from within the circle of candles, then grabbed the top half of the four candles which the girls had not taken and walked up to the very front of the stage. He was smiling broadly as he tossed the candle portions one by one out to the screaming women. By the time he had turned around, the four assistants had carried the remaining candlesticks off stage. When they returned, they were each leading a female slave by a chain attached to her collar. Each of the female slaves had large silver bells hanging from both of their nipples. The Whipmaster waited patiently as the assistants positioned the naked slaves to stand in a square around him. Then the scantily-clad assistants took their own positions which rounded that square out into a circle. In their hands, they each were holding more silver bells. The assistants held out the bells in front of themselves, and the slaves lifted their breasts as much as they could to present the bells to The Whipmaster. The whips began snapping and the bells began ringing. Soon a popular Christmas carol was ringing out from the stage. The crowd's applause almost drowned out the bells before the short piece ended. The Whipmaster walked to the front of the stage and took his customary low bow and then returned to the center of the circle. From her perch high above the stage, missy could see three of the slaves and all four of the assistants turn their faces toward the remaining slave. She nodded her head quickly several times. All their eyes returned to The Whipmaster as he once more snapped his whips above his head. The then began literally whipping out the "William Tell Overture". After only a few notes, most of the audience recognized it, even if they thought it was the theme from The Lone Ranger. He had barely finished the opening bars, however, when one of the slaves... the one everyone had been looking at, suddenly flinched and stepped back. "How dare you!" he screamed in his heavily-accented voice. "Do you not trust my skills with the whip?" He glared at her for a moment and then said very firmly, "Back in place, slave!" The girl stepped back into place, but again, after only a few notes, jumped back out of the way so that the whip missed the intended bell. "If you can't stand in place on your own," The Whipmaster said, trying to sound very severe, "then we will have to help you." He pointed over to the frame on stage right and ordered, "Restrain her!" "It's a setup," missy said to herself. "They were making sure who was supposed to mess up." Then she, and the audience, watched intently as the four assistants carefully strapped the pseudo- miscreant slave tightly into the frame. From the grandstands it looked like she was struggling against them, but missy could see that her movements stopped every so often so the assistants could properly close the restraints. "Transfer the bells," ordered The Whipmaster and the other three slaves removed their nipple clamps and re-attached them to the bound slave's breasts on either side of her nipples. The slave now had four bells hanging from each breast. "All of them!" he said, pointing his whip at one of the assistants. She stepped forward and began attaching her bells to the bound slave's body. Evidently there was a clamp of some sort already on the short chain which the assistant was holding because when she stepped back, both of her bells hung from the flesh of the bound slave's right underarm. A second assistant stepped forward and attached her bells to the left underarm. The third assistant's bells were placed one on each of the breasts so the slave now had four attached to each breast as well as one on each nipple. "Where are the other two going to go?" missy asked herself. Most of the crowd was asking itself the very same thing. As if in answer to that unspoken question, the last assistant stepped forward and held one of her bells up in front of the slave's face. The slave dutifully stuck out her tongue and the assistant clamped the bell in place. She then stood in front of the slave slowly moving the bell around in the air as if trying to think of where to place it. Finally she lowered her hand so that the bell was dangling just below the slave's crotch. She looked out at the crowd as if asking, "Should I do it?" The crowd roared out its answer and with a smirk and a nod of her head, she clamped the bell to the slave's clit. The slave responded with a very painful-sounding groan. The Whipmaster again addressed the crowd. "First the tune," he said and then quickly returned to the overture. Once again, the shouts and cheers from the crowd almost drowned out the bells before he completed his short excerpt. Turning once again to the crowd, he said slowly, "Now the punishment." His whips snapped twelve times in rapid succession as he was turning back around and all of the bells on the slave's breasts and underarms flew off across the stage. Her loud scream of pain was not fake as the clamps were torn from her body. The Whipmaster paused and swung his whips underhand back and forth several times as if measuring his shot. Then both whips snaked out at the same time and the bells flew from her nipples. The bell on her tongue rang loudly and she screamed and thrashed against her restraints. He again swung his whips in preparation for striking. It seemed to take him a long time to align his strike and the audience grew quiet in anticipation. Suddenly one whip snapped upward and the bell was torn from the slave's tongue. In response she thrashed even harder than before, but her scream was very subdued. Perhaps the pain in her tongue acted almost like a gag and prevented her from crying out. There was only one bell left. The Whipmaster dropped one whip to the stage and stood carefully measuring his strike for well over a minute. Missy could see that almost everyone was leaning forward waiting for this final bell to be knocked free. The whip suddenly slashed out and the bell... rang. It had barely touched it. He stood even longer moving the whip up and down and staring at the bell hanging between the bound slave's legs. The whip slashed out again, this time much faster and harder than before. It came up between the slave's outspread legs and curled upward against her slit. The bell rang loudly as it was forcefully pulled off the unfortunate slave's clit. It continued to ring as it arched through the air toward The Whipmaster. Without taking a step, he leaned slightly forward and caught the bell in his left hand. The crowd was on its feet applauding and cheering. Their cheers were almost loud enough to cover the poor slave's screams as she shook in her restraints. She was still shaking in pain as the assistants released her from the cuffs and took her backstage. The Whipmaster waited until all the clapping and shouting had almost died down to walk once again to stage front. He stood quietly surveying the crowd. He waved slightly at several different women gathered in front of the stage. Then when everything was totally quiet, he said, "For this next portion of our act, we will need a volunteer from the audience." Cries of "Me! Me! Me!" could be heard from the pack in front of the stage. Several dozen hands were raised among those women and perhaps a hundred or so more among the rest of the crowd. He made a big show of trying to make a decision. At one point he even stood stroking his well- manicured beard as he stared down at the possible choices. Finally he pointed with the handle of his whip and said, "This young lady... the blonde with the bright top." A mid-twenties woman wearing a bright blue top and an off-white pleated miniskirt started bouncing up and down a clapping her hands. She was crying out in joy like she had just won some great fabulous prize. Two of the assistants were already down front. They took her by the hands and led her up onto the stage. The Whipmaster now had a microphone in his hands. "Tell us your first name, and a little about yourself." he said pleasantly. "Julianna," the woman replied. She was trebling with excitement. The way she was bouncing up and down, and the style of dress she was wearing, she almost looked like a cheerleader on the sidelines of a big game somewhere. "I moved here about a year ago. I'm one of the waitresses at Club Risque on Route 12 just outside of town." The Whipmaster smiled broadly. He knew the place. Club Risque was just that, a supper club with R-rated entertainment. There was no outright stripping, but the comics were gross and the acts were mostly scantily-clad women singing songs filled with innuendo while they slithered around the stage from one provocative pose to another. Most of the females in town thought a good old-fashioned, honest, strip club would have been less degrading and humiliating for women. The audience responded to her self-introduction with a low, "Ohhhh", that swept through the crowd along with many knowing looks passed between the men. "You sound like the perfect woman to help me show this crowd one of my family's holiday traditions," The Whipmaster said encouragingly. "Are you willing to do that?" "Yes," the woman answered. She was watching the whip in his other hand as she spoke, and her answer sounded very tenuous. "What do I have to do?" she asked in a shaky voice. "All you have to do," he replied, "is to hold the holiday ham while I slice it." One of the assistants joined them on stage. She was carrying a small metal serving tray with about a twelve pound boneless ham sitting on it. "Of course," The Whipmaster continued, "I come from a long line of Whipmasters, so our family traditions are a little different." Gently pushing her forward into a bend, he said, "You bend over and hold this ham on your back while I slice it with my whip." He looked down into her eyes, "Are you willing to do that?" She nodded her head. "The audience would like to hear your answer," he said gently and she again nodded her head, but clearly said. "Yes", at the same time. "You are still trembling with excitement... or is it fear?" he said. It was difficult to tell if he was speaking to her or to the audience, because he was facing out as he said it. "Maybe it would be easier if you had something to support your stomach to hold it steady while you hold the tray. Do you think we should do that?" She again nodded and said, "Yes." Two other assistants came out on stage and guided her over to the high spanking bench. Missy looked down at them an shook her head. "Lady," she said softly, "you are being conned. By the time this is all over you are going to have a red ass." Julianna didn't hear her, and even if she did, she was too far under The Whipmaster's wily spell to care. The assistants lay Julianna over the high padded bench. They pushed up her blouse so that they could pull the wide leather strap across her bare back. "Comfortable?" he asked. After she nodded, the assistant carrying the ham placed it on the small of her back so that it was resting partially on her bent buttocks. "You are still moving around too much," he said. "Perhaps if you grabbed that bar beneath your hands, you will be able to stay much quieter. Can you do that?" She reached down, but her arms weren't long enough. Her finger tips barely touched the bar. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm afraid we are going to have to get a different volunteer... unless... Yes! This bench is used in a different way in a another segment of my act. There are some wrist cuffs that would hold your arms still. We could use them! Do you want us to cuff your hands so you can remain still?" Julianna was probably the only person in the whole arena who didn't recognize that she was being manipulated into allowing herself to be put in bondage. She nodded her head and said softly, "OK." The Whipmaster stepped back behind her and started swinging his whip as if preparing to strike. Suddenly he stopped and said loudly, "Oh, no! This isn't going to work. I should have picked someone wearing pants." He then walked around in front of Julianna and said, "The wind is blowing your skirt around. It keeps getting in the way of where my whip needs to strike. This has to be very precise, so I need a totally clear path to the ham. I'm afraid we are going to have to let you go back to the audience." Missy and everyone in the audience had one question in their minds, "What wind?" Julianna was tearing up badly. She had already invested so much of herself in this and now it was all for nothing. "She could take it off," one of the assistants suggested. "Oh, I would never ask her to do that," The Whipmaster said as he shook his head. "She would be displaying her panties to this entire crowd. It would be asking too much of her. It would take a really strong-willed woman to do that." The assistant walked in front of Julianna so that they could see each other's faces. "Are you a strong-willed woman? Would you like me to take off your dress so The Whipmaster can proceed?" Julianna hesitated, but then nodded her head. Her lips were pressed firmly together in silence, but he didn't ask to her repeat her answer out loud. Instead he gave a hand signal and the assistant walked around behind Julianna and slipped the white dress down her legs. Her panties weren't exactly granny panties, but they did cover most of her ass. The assistant who had been handling the ham returned it to Julianna's back. This time, however, it was almost totally balanced on the edge of her buttocks. The Whipmaster returned to his striking position and again began to limber up the whip. He had just started to begin to move it with some speed when the ham came crashing down to the stage. "No! Not again!" he wailed. "I am so sorry," said to her. "It appears that your panties are too slippery and the ham won't stay in place. ... After all you've done for us. I am so sorry." "Take them off," came a very soft voice. Julianna continued, "If that's what it takes, take them off." "I would never ask that of you," he replied, "but since you suggested it..." One of the assistants stepped forward and slowly pulled the white panties down. As she did so, the bright stage lights reflected off the gathering wetness between the woman's legs. "She's getting turned on by this!" missy said to herself in surprise. The ham assistant picked everything up from the stage and once again placed the tray more securely on Julianna's back. Then she reached down and moved the bound woman's legs out slightly so they aligned with the leg restraints. Julianna did not resist or say anything as the assistant slowly wrapped the restraints around each ankle. The Whipmaster once again took his place and began swinging the whip. After several swings, he brought it around in a circle and then used his wrist to snap it down onto the ham. A section of the ham a little over an inch wide fell over onto the tray. He again swung the whip several times and again brought it around in an arc over his head before snapping it down on the ham. Another one-inch slice folded over onto the tray. Five more times he snapped the whip down on the ham and each time another one-inch slice was added to the tray. Now there was only a two-inch piece still upright on the tray. He swung his whip slowly several times as he carefully examined that piece. Then with a loud swish he brought the whip through the entire arc so that the tip slashed downward through the ham. There was a loud clang as the tip hit the tray and Julianna jumped slightly from the impact which she felt through the metal. The Whipmaster turned and bowed to the crowd. The applause was good, but nowhere near what it had been for his other tricks. It wasn't that the ham cutting had not been impressive. It was very impressive. Their applause was subdued because they somehow knew that this wasn't the end of the segment. Something better was yet to come. The assistant removed the tray and ham from Julianna's back and walked off stage. The Whipmaster walked up directly behind her and stood for a moment looking at the fluids trickling down her leg. "This excited you very much, didn't it?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer, but continued, "Each time my whip cut into the ham, you were imagining it raising a welt across your ass, weren't you?" He reached up and traced a line across her ass cheeks with one of his fingers. "The reason you let us strip you and tie you in place is that deep down in those secret places of your mind, you were hoping that I would use this whip on your naked ass in front of all these people." She was once again trembling. Her head slowly nodded. "Say it!" he commanded. "Yes!" she screamed out. "I was hoping that you would whip my naked ass!" Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed an O of surprise. Had she really said that out loud? The Whipmaster was now stroking her ass cheeks with one hand while his other slid between her legs to very lightly stroke her slit. "Would you like me to whip your ass?" he asked. "I won't cut you like I did the ham. I won't even break the skin. It will just raise some nasty welts to remind you of this for a week or two." His voice was very soft and soothing as he asked, "Do you want me to do that for you?" "Yes," she replied in a very throaty voice. "You really should be totally naked for this," he said. She said nothing, instead began to breathe deeper and deeper as one of the assistants removed her blouse and bra. They had to uncuff her hands for a moment to slip them off her arms, but Julianna did not resist. In fact, she set her wrists back into the cuffs so the assistant could re-bind them. Meanwhile, The Whipmaster was continuing to stroke Julianna's ass. "How many times should I strike you?" he asked softly. "Until I cum," she answered. Her need was now as apparent in her voice as it was in her body. "I didn't quite hear that," he said. "I have to be sure because I don't want to give you more than you asked for." "Whip my ass until I cum!" she yelled out. Her whole body was now vibrating with her need. The Whipmaster stepped upstage of the bound woman's ass so that he could deliver the blows from the side but not block the audience's view. He snaked the whip back and forth several times before snapping it out so that it landed squarely across both ass cheeks. "Aiiiiieeeee!" she screamed, but she did not yell for him to stop. Instead she began panting deeply. A second snap echoed through the arena and she screamed once again. This time it was more of an "Ahhhhhhh" than an "Aiieee." Another snap. Jullianna twisted and thrashed in her restraints, but the scream was again softer. By the fifth strike, the scream had turned into a moan. The insides of both of her legs glistened brightly under the stage lights. The crowd was silent. Missy could see that a number of women in the audience seemed to be almost going into a trance. Several standing up front by the stage had their hands down their skirts or shorts. The moan became louder with each strike of the whip until on the fourteenth blow, the moan again became a long, drawn out, "Aiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" as Julianna humped furiously against the padded shelf which held her upright. Now the crowd exploded in applause and cheers. Mixed among those cheers, missy could also hear several other Aiiiiieeeee's including her own. Julianna was not the only one to orgasm from the experience. After the applause had died down and the crowd was once again seated, William strode out on stage to join The Whipmaster. "It is time now," he said solemnly, "to witness today's punishment." Missy's cage began to slowly descend. As it was coming down, several of the stage crew pushed a platform onto the stage. Mounted on that platform was a metal pole about eight feet high. It had been painted to look like a telephone pole and was about the same size, but it was very smooth and the cracks and grain were obviously painted on. From the top hung a set of wrist restraints. Their chain went over the top of the pole and was secured on the back to some sort of winch mechanism. The cage settled onto the stage with a soft "Thump!" and William unlocked the huge padlock. After missy stepped out, he removed her chains and collar and led her over to the post. It was pretty obvious what she was supposed to do, so she raised her hands above her head so they could be wrapped with the restraints. William then nudged her foot with his indicating that she should spread her legs. She did and he nudged again. She was now very widely spread. William then stooped down and attached a restraint to her ankle. He nudged her other leg and she moved it even farther out. He then attached the second ankle cuff. "This is called a Lambda Restraint," The Whipmaster explained to the crowd. He pronounced it "lam-bu-duh." Two of the assistants walked to the front of the stage carrying white cards with a black symbol on them that looked very much like missy's body did hanging from the restraints. "This is because," he continued, "the person's body looks very much like the Greek letter Lambda, especially if they lose consciousness and hang limply from their wrists." The Whipmaster then moved into position and William continued the explanation. "The Lambda Restraint is actually the best one to use when whipping because there are no posts or walls to prevent the whip from curving around to the sides of the person's body." Missy could not see him, but could tell by the change in the volume of his voice, he was now looking at her. "In addition, the person being whipped is often forced to press their body against the rough wood in an attempt to escape the pain." "Rough wood?" missy thought. "This thing is totally smooth. I could slide against it all day with no problem." "For most people held in the Lambda's grip, however," he continued as he turned back to face the crowd, "there is no escape from the pain." "Oh!" missy said aloud. She then continued silently, "He's telling me how I can get through this." She tentatively ground her crotch against the metal pole. "This could work... or at least I hope it will work." William reverted to his ringmaster voice and cried out, "Ladies and Gentlemen. You are about to witness an attempt at a record. The Whipmaster's record for consecutive strokes of the whip without breaking skin is currently forty-two. Today he will attempt to extend that record to forty- six." He then walked over to missy and pretended to check the restraints. As he reached up to check the wrist cuffs, his mouth was close to missy's ear. "Don't worry," he said quietly, "he's actually gone well over one-hundred in past years." He laughed softly and added, "But the audience doesn't know that." After William stepped back, there was a long silence a long, long silence as The Whipmaster stood behind missy slowly moving his whip up and back. The long leather snaked back and forth as the tension grew in the crowd. Finally, when the buzz of the crowd dipped to total silence for just a moment, he flicked his wrist in a slightly different way and the whip snapped out across missy's ass. The loud "crack!" could be heard throughout the stands. Also heard throughout the stands was missy's quick shriek as she cried out in pain. It felt as if her ass were suddenly on fire. To the people in the crowd, it seemed as if the force of the blow drove missy forward onto the post, but it was just her own muscles reacting to the noise and pain. The smooth metal post seemed especially cold as missy ground her crotch against the pole as the pain reverberated throughout her body. She knew that the only way she could endure the pain was to go into the pain and hopefully change it into pleasure. Actually, it wasn't pleasure she sought as much as the lessening of the pain sensations. "Hurt but not harm," she began saying to herself over and over and over again. "Crack!" the whip slashed once again into her body. She again ground her crotch into the pole as she tried to deal with the pain. A new welt appeared across her ass about a hand's width up from the previous strike. "Hurt but not harm, Hurt but not harm, Hurt but not harm, Hurt but not harm," she found herself repeating. With each "Hurt," she pushed herself forward against the cold metal. "Crack!" the whip struck again. The Whipmaster had moved up exactly the same spacing to leave a third welt across missy's back. "He's more accurate than that robot," missy thought. "He's almost a machine himself." She hugged the pole as best she could with her shoulders and legs and said softly aloud, "Hurt but not harm." This time she actually believed it. The whip cracked again and a fourth welt appeared on missy's back. The distance between the stripes was exact. Missy again thought of the machine which had caned her a few days ago. It had struck only as hard as necessary to raise a welt and missy had been able to turn those sensations of pain into sensations of pleasure. "Hurt but not harm, Hurt but not harm, Hurt but not harm." As she had with the robot, missy was able to slowly dull the sharpness of the pain. With each strike, the pain became less true pain and more sensation which the body could interpret as it wished. And there were two advantages to being whipped rather than being caned. First off, the whip was softer and slightly bigger than the rod used to cane her. This meant that the area was slightly wider where the whip came in contact with her skin and that it did not concentrate the force as greatly at the initial point of impact. Secondly, missy was held in a Lambda Restraint rather than bound tightly between upright posts of a square frame. This meant that she could grind her crotch against the post and slide her cunt up and down on the smooth metal. There were now two sets of sensations flooding her body, the pain now made generic by her concentration on the fact that the whip would hurt but not harm her body and the pressure against her cunt and clit which could only be interpreted as pleasure. When the two sets of sensations combined in her mind, they combined as pleasure. "Crack!" the whip slashed across her back and she thrust her body heavily against the post. The crowd could see her move and assumed that the force of the strike was making her grind against the post, but the truth was, she was pushing herself against the post before the leather made contact with her flesh. That way there was a pulse of pleasure that radiated outward from her cunt just before the pain flashed outward from her ass. From the audience point of view, The Whipmaster would strike and a new welt would immediately appear in the exactly spaced pattern on the repentant terrorist's back. Missy would then scream in pain and thrash against the post, pulling as hard as she could against her restraints. Many in the audience were themselves getting sexual satisfaction out of watching this merciless whipping. From missy's point of view, she would thrust her very wet cunt against the post, almost crushing her clit against the cold metal. The resulting sensations would drive her higher up orgasm mountain. Adding to the drive toward the top of the mountain would be a sudden flood of intense sensations as the leather slammed across her back or ass. The combination of intense sensations would cause her to drive her cunt even harder against the post as her body shook with the intensity of what she was feeling. Needless to say, missy was also getting sexual satisfaction from what appeared to be a merciless whipping. William's voice came through the speakers very softly as he counted, "thirty-nine." When he said "forty," it was a little louder. "Forty-one" was louder still. Some of the crowd began to count with him at "forty-two." More joined the count at "forty-three." By the time the count reached "forty-four," everyone in the stands was standing and counting loudly. At "forty-five" missy let out a long, wailing scream that rose above the noise of the crowd. At "forty-six" her scream changed to a loud, long, "aaaaahhhhhhhh!" as she thrashed violently against the pole and pulled against the restraints which held her taut. Then she suddenly relaxed. She had lost consciousness and her body slumped, hanging from her wrists to form the true lambda shape. The audience assumed that she had passed out from the pain. William, and of course missy, knew that she had passed out not from overwhelming pain, but from overwhelming pleasure. The Whipmaster stepped to the front of the stage and bowed deeply. The audience, already on its feet, thundered their applause. He remained in his deep bow as William stepped alongside him and, when things began to quiet down said loudly, "The Whipmaster will be at the small platform on stage right to sign autographs for you. He will also have the schedule for his upcoming tour and you will have the opportunity to purchase tickets. His video, The Whipmaster Shows You How It's Done ," is also available." When William had finished, The Whipmaster rose back to a standing position and strode off stage toward the platform. William and two of the stage crew, meanwhile, began to remove missy from her wrist and ankle cuffs. Missy was conscious, but not quite with it, as he led her over to her cage. "Can you stand on your own, or do we need to tie your hands to the bars to help hold you up?" he asked. The question was enough to bring missy fully awake, "No," she said, almost laughing, "I've had enough tie and stretch for today. I'll stand on my own." As the cage began its rise into the air, however, she regretted her decision. She was planning on assuming her standard rest position with her back against the back bars and her feet firmly against the bars at the front of the cage. When she put her back against the bars, however, the pain which had been submerged beneath her pleasure suddenly reared its head to announce that her back was not only hurt, it was harmed. She could feel each welt stinging on her skin. She reached around and rubbed the edges of the welts with her hands. They were raised and very sore, but the skin did not appear to be broken. "Not harmed," she said aloud, "but damn, that hurts!" She ended up standing most of the hour of her after-show display time. The only way she could lean back against the bars was to center a bar in the crack of her ass and lean forward to keep her back off the bars. Unfortunately, that would put pressure on her tail bone, so it was comfortable for only a few minutes, but it did give some relief to her legs while it lasted. At the end of an hour, she heard the sound of the ATV as William pulled the cage trailer up onto the stage. A few minutes later she was lying face down on her bed as William spread copious amounts of his marvelous medicinal salve all over the back of her body. Shortly thereafter, the pain was replaced by a slight tingling sensation as the medication did whatever it did to reduce swelling and hasten healing. Within a few minutes she was sound asleep. Whether it was the events of the day or the accumulation of what had occurred the previous days, missy did not awaken when William returned after a while to apply more ointment. In fact, she remained asleep as he returned four more times to repeat the application. He decided to let her sleep. William returned several more times during the night to apply a fresh coat of the salve. By morning, the welts and bruises had all but disappeared. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END CHAPTER EIGHT OF THIRTEEN = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Chapter Summaries Chapter One: Vicki LeClaire is convicted of all charges. A sentencing agreement is negotiated by William Wilson, a professional slave sentence negotiator. This chapter primarily sets the scene for the rest of the book. Once that is done, the action near the end centers around public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Two: Vicki's "Day of Repentance" and her humiliating descent into slavery, including being renamed as slave missy. This chapter centers primarily on public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Three: The first of missy's 11 days of public punishment. On this first day of punishment, Master Hiroya Takahashi demonstrates properly-trained pony girls, and instructs missy on the proper way to receive a punishment spanking. The focus of this chapter is pony girls and public spanking. Chapter Four: The second day of punishment begins with a flogging contest by a company called Judicial Placements Incorporated. Her negotiator... and new Master, William Wilson, flogs missy the required forty-six times to fulfill the terms of her sentence. This chapter is totally focused on non-consensual flogging. Chapter Five: Slave missy's third day of punishment. She is once again subject to a spanking, this time by the head of a private girls' reformatory. Before her spanking, several of the young women from the reformatory also receive public punishment. This is a spanking chapter with bare hand, slipper, paddle, and leather belt. Chapter Six: The fourth day. On this day of punishment, she is caned... by a robot, or more accurately, by a computer-driven mechanical spanking machine. Before her caning, James Madison demonstrates his company's machines. This chapter focuses on mechanical flogging, paddling, and caning. It also delves into self-bondage and pain-pleasure. Chapter Seven: The fifth day. Slave missy is punished by water combined with heat, cold, and electricity. This chapter focuses on various types of water punishment. Chapter Eight: On the sixth day of her punishment, missy is introduced to "The Whipmaster." Before punishing her he provides a demonstration of his abilities. The chapter is focused on public nudity, public humiliation, and public flogging of one sort or another. Chapter Nine: The seventh day for slave missy is a day for electro-punishment. Slave missy becomes part of the vidshow, "Wheel of Pleasure, Wheel of Pain." Chapter Ten: The eighth day introduces a unique punishment punishment by combat. There is also an undercard of slave wrestling with humiliation and pain in store for the loser. Chapter Eleven: The ninth day of punishment is a lottery. The public is given the chance to paddle the repentant terrorist. Eight lucky winners each get to give her five swats with a special paddle. One lucky winner gets to finish the forty-six required for her punishment by laying six swats of the paddle across missy's ass. The undercard is also part of the lottery. Three slaves in need of punishment will each receive 20 swats, again with one lottery winner delivering 5 of those swats. In addition there are two volunteers. One is a male member of the stage crew who is coming out as a pain slut. The other is a woman who has been at every performance so far and wants to experience public punishment and humiliation. Hers is a special case and her husband will deliver however many swats it takes to make her cum. Twenty-five winners were chosen to participate. Each was asked to write a short essay saying why they should be the one to deliver the final six to the repentant terrorist. The winner finishes off missy. Chapter Twelve: This tenth day returns missy to old school punishment as she receives an old- fashioned caning. There is also a contest between slaves to see who can withstand the most strokes of the cane. Chapter Thirteen: (Last Chapter) Slave missy finally reaches her final day of punishment. After having been punished by hand, slipper, paddle, cane, water, and electricity, missy is punished with pleasure. She is strapped into a high-tech denial/teasing/edging device and taken to the very brink of orgasm 46 times.

Blizzard by The Technician Non-consensual, Public Nudity, Public Spanking, Public Sex, Public Exhibition, Oral, Anal, Cabaret Setting = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = What is the cost of any port in a storm during a blizzard? Winters in Northern Iowa can get pretty brutal when the wind is from the west and the moisture is coming in from the south. The resulting blizzards can shut down everything except, as Mandy would soon discover, Big Jake's Erotic Emporium. It is there that she finds herself the center of attention during a Midwest blizzard. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2016 by The Technician ( [email protected] ). Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Amanda Crawford stared through the ice-covered windshield at the snow blowing horizontally across the road. She was trying to make out the side of the road... or see the center stripe... or see anything which would tell her if she was on her side of the road. Right now, except for the fact that her tires sounded like they were on a hard surface, she couldn't be sure that she was even on the road. This angry and slightly fearful woman should be relaxing in a heated spa at the motel where she had made reservations for tonight, but she missed a turn somewhere in the blowing snow right after sundown and was now wandering through God knows where on roads that were rapidly drifting over. She had always used her phone as her GPS. The maps were good even in the more remote areas she had to visit. But either the system was down or, more likely, the heavy, blowing snow absorbed the cell phone signals so badly that they no longer reached out into wherever it was that she was now driving. She used her gloved hands to pull herself closer to the windshield. She felt like a little old lady driving like this, but despite the constant scraping of her wipers, the ice was building up on her windshield to the point where she had only a few inches at the bottom through which to see the road. Even diverting all of the heat to the defrosters did little to nothing except use up what heat was available and leave the car itself cold. Amanda had to be little-old-lady close to see out, but now her breath was fogging what little clear glass was still available. She slumped back against her seat and let out a deep sigh. Her breath filled the cold car like a small cloud of fog. "Why in the hell didn't I check out what Iowa winters are really like BEFORE I took this territory," she muttered to herself. Amanda known to her friends as Mandy was trying to break into one of the last of the good ol' boy clubs... farm-related sales. Specifically, she was a field representative for a large farm equipment company. Her job description said she wasn't a sales person, but in reality that was exactly what she was. Her job was to regularly visit the dealers and convince them to keep their inventory of parts and equipment at the levels desired by the company. By any definition except her company's that was sales. Being a beautiful woman worked both ways for Amanda in her position. Her looks always got her in the door. She had more appointments with managers and owners than anyone else. But at the same time, because of her looks, those same people didn't take her seriously that is, until she started talking. There was almost no question about the equipment or the business she couldn't answer. She even knew about equipment that hadn't been in use actively since the twenties. With a little luck and a lot of effort, some day she would be a regional manager or higher up on the company's organizational chart. But for now, she was a lowly district representative who had to make monthly visits to all of her clients. And that included the winter months. "I'm going to die out here," she said mournfully, as she scraped the frost off the inside of the windshield with her glove. She then sighed and added, "I don't mind freezing to death, if that's what's in the cards..." Her voice became loud as she slammed her hands against the steering wheel and shouted angrily, "... but dammit, couldn't I at least freeze to death someplace warm?!" She laughed at the absurdity of what she had just said and then scolded herself, saying, "Mandy, Mandy, Mandy, you're starting to get irrational. It is highly unlikely that you would ever freeze to death on a beach back home in Florida. If you are going to freeze to death it is going to be someplace like right here in almost-God-damned-Minnesota, northwestern Iowa." She then yelped and screamed excitedly, "But you aren't dying out here tonight. There are lights up ahead." She wasn't sure what it was, or for sure how far away, but there were definitely lights ahead causing the snow to glow a bluish white. It didn't appear to be a town. There wasn't enough light. But at the same time, it was too much light for a farm house. It might be a truck stop or perhaps a roadhouse or motel a little ways out in the country. Amanda didn't care what it was. The blizzard was rapidly closing the roads and any port in a storm meant exactly that any port in a storm. Whatever it was, it was where she would stop. She would hunker down there and tomorrow or the next day or perhaps even the next she would continue on. If there was any phone service, she could reschedule her meetings and appointments tonight. Otherwise, she would have to wait until the storm cleared or until she got out of this middle of nowhere. The glowing snow ahead was gradually becoming a circle of white snow globes. Those globes were formed around yard lights which surrounded a strange looking building that could only be described as a round pyramid. It was a shed of some sort that was round at the bottom actually eight- or twelve-sided with a roof that started at the ground on each of the many sides and then peaked at the top. One side was taken up with a huge door. The pyramid was surrounded by a dozen or so orange snowplow trucks. One truck, parked in the cavernous door, still had its yellow flashers on, adding a little color to the glow. The other trucks, from the misty smoke coming from their tailpipes, were obviously running, but their flashers were off while they sat waiting to be filled with salt. On the opposite side of the highway from the round pyramid was a small, run-down motel. Alongside it was an even more run-down looking building with a purple neon sign on the front which said, "Big Jake's Erotic Emporium." In front of those words was a pink champagne glass with a bright red cherry in it. The red cherry blinked on and off at about the same speed as the flashers on the trucks across the street. "That must be a popular place," Mandy thought to herself as she noted a dozen or so four- wheel-drive vehicles parked around the building. "Or they must have one hell of a show planned for tonight," she added as she noticed the many snowmobiles parked among the drifts further out in the parking lot. The lights from the buildings and parking lots barely added to the glow given off by the salt storage facility. Had it not been for the state or county facility across the road, she might not have even noticed either building as she drove past. The parking lot for the motel hadn't been plowed. There were no snowmobiles, but it appeared to be full of cars, most of which had obviously been there since before it started snowing. They weren't much more than car-shaped bumps in the deep snow. The chances of a room being available were obviously pretty slim. "I don't care if I have to sleep in the lobby," Mandy said loudly to herself. "I'm getting inside out of this blizzard." She turned the wheel hard and prayed that the car would bounce over the snow plow ridge which blocked the entrance to the motel. There was a soft scrapping noise as the front of the car ramped over the ridge and then settled back down. Had she been timid about it, her car would have been left teetering on the piled up ice and hard-packed snow, but she approached that roadblock as she approached life, full speed ahead. The car bounced into the soft, deep, snow in the parking lot and began to skid in a wide, slow arc. Mandy turned into the skid and regained control... more or less. The car was now slowly skidding nose first toward the front of the motel... and into one of the few remaining open parking places in the entire lot. There was no real chance of stopping, so Mandy took her foot off the brakes and let it go. She gave a loud "umpfff" as her front tires hit the parking block and the momentum threw her against the steering wheel. "Any landing you can walk away from," she said with a laugh after she regained her breath. Then grabbing her purse from the passenger seat, she opened her door and stepped out into the more than knee-deep snow. Her lower legs felt like they were on fire as they rubbed against the cold snow, and the cold wind blew up under her coat as she forced her way through the snow toward the office. Her short skirt did little to protect her upper legs from the wind's icy breath. A miniskirt seems like a poor choice to wear in her profession especially in the middle of winter, but it showed off her shapely legs, so for Mandy, the miniskirt was just one more sales tool. Her long legs often got her in the door. And if her legs got her in the door, then she could show the owners and managers that she knew her business... and theirs. Several times sales managers or general managers thinking to embarrass her, had asked her to come with them out into the fields or had indicated that there was something under the equipment they wanted her to see. Their look of disappointment when she pulled a set of coveralls and boots out of her trunk always brought a smile to her face. There was no time to retrieve the coveralls tonight. Besides, she wasn't sure the trunk wasn't frozen shut by the snow and ice. She pulled her coat more tightly around her slim body and trudged through the snow to the dimly-lit office. Her heels slipped in the deep snow, but her "field shoes" were in the trunk with her boots and coveralls. If necessary, she would walk the rest of the way barefoot. The clerk glanced up at her for just a second as she stepped into the motel office. "We're closed, ma'am," he said without really looking up. "Your lights are on," she replied. "Your door is open. And you are sitting here. How can you say you're closed?!" "Waiting for a reservation to get in late," he said, still not meeting her eyes, but instead continuing to stare at the screen of a laptop which he had sitting on the desk alongside the monitor and keyboard which were apparently part of the motel registration system. "If they are coming from south of here," she said firmly, "they aren't going to make it." Then pointing out the windows she said, "All the state trucks are turning north I assume toward town. That means they have taken the plows off the road for the night and won't be back until daylight tomorrow." The clerk finally looked up and glanced out the badly frosted windows. "Town's east of here," he said slowly. "Road takes a sharp right about a quarter mile up. But you're probably right. They're pullin' the plows til daylight." "Then you have a room available?" she said hopefully. The clerk scratched at the side of his face and said, "Not exactly. All rooms have been contracted and paid for in advance. Only one person hasn't showed yet." Again looking out the window, he added, "There was supposed to be a special show next door tonight." He then spent several moments looking up and down Mandy's weary body and said brusquely, "Besides, I don't think you want to stay here." "Why not?" she asked, trying to keep the anger out of her voice. "Well," he said, continuing to scratch at the stubble on his face, "if the sign on the roof weren't totally covered with snow and ice, you would see that this is "Big Jake's Fantasy Motel." He smiled and said, "We are well outside the city limits and right on the county line. State line's just a few miles north of here. That puts us right in the middle of I-don't-care-what-you-do-out-there nowhere. We don't sell alcohol and don't have live entertainment here at the motel, so nobody can say what we can or can't do out here." He again carefully examined Mandy's body before saying, "So... we have a specialty business that caters to people's fantasies." "Since the place next door," Mandy said, "is Big Jake's Sexual Emporium, I assume those fantasies are X-rated." "More like triple X," the clerk replied. "And kinky shit like that costs a lot of money. Room rates reflect that... nother reason why you wouldn't want to stay here." "Look," Mandy said, dropping into her sales persuasion mode, "whoever reserved that room isn't going to make it. With a blizzard and all, you might not even be able to keep their deposit. I'm willing to rent that room for one night, at the going rate. I'll figure out some way to put it on my expense account and get the company to pay for it. It's a blizzard. They will understand." After another long period of face and chin scratching, the clerk finally said, "Well, if you're willin' to pay the goin' rate," and turned around a clipboard containing a registration form so that it was facing her." He grinned at her or was it a leer and asked, "I have some standard fantasies that could be added on to the base rate if you want to look at a menu." "I think I'll take just the room," she replied as she filled out the form. For the rate indicated on the form, Amanda could have stayed three or more nights at a five-star hotel, but any port in a storm means any port in a storm. She filled out the form and handed her credit card to the clerk. "Amanda, eh," he said as he scanned the form. "That's a real coincidence. The woman who had that room reserved was named Amanda." "See," Mandy replied, "it was meant to be." The clerk just printed out a receipt and said, "Well, in any case, you've got a room for the night. Just don't you go disputing these charges later. You had a chance to read the full contract before agreeing to the room. ... And I warned you verbally in advance that it would be expensive." "I understand," she replied. "Just give me the key so I can get some sleep." The clerk handed her the receipt and a standard motel electronic key. The image printed on the key was the naked girl usually seen in chrome on a trucker's mud-flap, but it was done in flames with additional flames flickering above her. "The rooms all have inside and outside doors," the clerk said. Then he added, "Your room is right in front of your car." "There's nothing I need bad enough in my car to go back out in that," she answered as she looked back out the lobby door. Then pointing at a hallway to the clerk's right, she asked, "I assume this leads to the inside door." "Third door on the right," he answered and went back to his computer monitor. Amanda walked quickly down the dingy hallway. To her surprise, the key card worked on the first try. The dim light in the hallway barely reached into the room. She felt on the wall to the left of the door for a light switch. There were two switches. The first lit up the bathroom, which was a standard motel restroom. It looked old, but appeared to be clean and functional. The second switch turned on two lamps in the room. Their heavily-shaded bulbs created a deep red glow in the room but didn't provide much light. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Mandy could see that most of the room was taken up by an old-fashioned four-poster bed with thick posts supporting an ornate wooden canopy. Ducking slightly she could see that the inside of the canopy was a single, huge mirror. After hanging up her coat and stripping off her wet clothing, Mandy pulled the plush cover aside and lay down on her back. Her almost-naked self looked down on her from the mirror. "There's no doubt what this bed is for," she said with a laugh. Looking around at the heavy hooks on the ceiling and the other strange-looking furniture, she added, "... or this room." She got back up off the bed and removed her bra and panties. "Lucky I sleep nude anyway," she said as she walked to the bathroom to rinse out her undies and hang them over a towel bar. After a quick, hot shower, she returned to the bed and again sprawled beneath the mirror. Now her fully-naked self watched as one hand slid over her lower abdomen. Her other hand plucked at one of her nipples. "I should have gone back to the car for my suitcase," she said with a sigh. She had told the clerk that there wasn't anything in the suitcase that she needed, but that wasn't exactly true. Tucked into a side pocket of that suitcase was her travel vibrator. It wasn't as big or strong as her favorite vibrator back home, but it had an actual switch on the base that guaranteed it wouldn't accidently come on in her suitcase and create an embarrassing situation. Mandy often needed her vibrator to relieve stress while on the road, and today had been an especially stressful day. She sighed again as her hand found her clit and her fingers began to circle that sensitive nubbin. Meanwhile, the fingers of the other hand traveled the length of her body, first plucking and tweaking at her nipples, then descending to between her legs to slide through her ever-more-slippery slit before reversing course and sliding upward across the hand still massaging her pleasure spot to make its way back to her breasts. "I really need to find a man," she said to her mirror image. "One that isn't afraid of a strong woman." She gasped lightly as her fingers slid across her clit. "I've tried playing the weak ingenue," she said with a slight laugh, still speaking to her mirror self. "But when the real me comes out, they run screaming away." Her hand began moving faster. "I need someone more powerful than me to overpower me and fuck me senseless." She smiled at herself and added with a smile, "... even if I have to goad them into it and then let them do it." She was almost there when the phone rang. A loud "Arrrggh!" filled the room. She wanted to ignore the incoming call, but her sales mind couldn't ignore a ringing phone. Besides, the moment was already gone. "What!" she said as she lifted up the receiver. "Amanda?" a voice asked. "Yes," she replied. "This is Jake," the voice said. "I'm calling about the contract. This is your last chance to back out." "I already told the creepy clerk that I would honor the contract," she said. The anger was starting to return to her voice. "Well," Jake said, "I needed you saying that for the recording. There are no safewords or safe signals and the contract is a little unusual, so I had to be sure." "I know," she replied. "But there's a blizzard out there and I drove a long way just to get here. I won't back out of the contract." "Just so we all understand each other," Jake replied and the line went dead. Mandy had no sooner hung up the phone when there was a soft knocking on the door. "Now what?" she asked herself as she strode over to the door and looked out through the peep hole. The desk clerk was standing in the hallway holding something. "What do you want?" she asked through the door. "Compliments of the house," he said loudly as he held something up to the eye hole in the door. Mandy could see that it was a bottle of wine or champagne. "Actually, it's part of the contract the other girl had, but since she's not going to be here and it's already open, you might as well have it." He shrugged his shoulders and said, "I was goin' to drink it myself, but I called my sponsor instead. He told me to pour it out or give it away." Lifting the bottle up once again, he added, "You're the logical one to give it to." "Just a minute," she said as she released the night lock. Then standing behind the door, she reached out with one arm and said, "I'm not dressed, so you'll have to put it in my hand." She felt the cold bottle against the palm of her hand and her fingers closed to grip it. Something poked at one finger and she straightened it. When she pulled her hand back around the door, it was holding a small bottle of champagne. A plastic champagne flute was tucked under her middle finger. "Probably not a vintage year," she said softly as she poured some of the bubbly liquid into the plastic glass. Actually it was pretty good. There was an odd after-taste, but other than that, it compared well to champagne she had ordered in fine restaurants. There was enough in the small bottle for two and a half glasses. She gulped the first one and then sat on the bed sipping the second glass. She was surprised at how fast it hit her. Almost immediately, she could feel her face flushing with a warm, alcohol glow. She could also feel a warmth deep in her loins that seemed to be growing hotter each second. Glancing up at her reflection she said, "I've got some unfinished business to attend to." She downed the remainder of the glass and picked up the bottle. "No need to be ladylike," she said with a laugh as she put the bottle to her mouth and poured the remaining liquid down her throat. She felt strangely "floaty" as she lay back on the bed. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion around her. Her cunt was on fire and her clit was throbbing and begging to be stroked, but she couldn't bring her hands over to touch herself. Her eyes looked desperately down at her from her reflection as she shouted out, "Oooooh Myyyyy Goooood! Iiii'mmm sooo horneeey! Iiii neeeed sooomeboody to fuuuuck me!" Her voice sounded far away and distorted as she repeated, "Fuuuuck meeeee! Fuuuuck meeeee! Fuuuuck meeeee! "That's exactly what we intend to do," said a voice from above her. Her eyes moved frantically from side to side as she realized that there were dark shapes all around her bed. A distorted face leaned in over her and said, "She's a lot younger and prettier than I expected." Another voice asked, "You ain't complaining, are you?" "She's a lot smaller, too," said another voice from the background. "That could be a problem." "What's the matter, Doc?" the distorted face asked. "The drugs in the wine were supposed to relax her and turn her on," Doc responded. "So?" the distorted face asked. "The dosage is based on weight," Doc replied. "The form said she weighed one-forty-five. I figure most women lie about their weight, so I calculated the dose for one-sixty." Mandy felt a hand squeeze her upper thigh and then the doctor's voice continued, "She can't weigh more than one-twenty, tops." "Don't look like she'll be much entertainment like this," the distorted face said. "She's practically knocked out." "I'll think of something," Doc said curtly. "Just pick her up and carry her over to the club." He picked something up from the bedside table and said, "Don't forget the mask. She didn't put it on like she was supposed to." He then bent over and slid something soft and slippery over Mandy's head. Her eyes were blocked for a moment as he pulled it into place and fastened something beneath her chin. Looking at herself in the ceiling mirror, she could see that the upper half of her face, as well as all of her hair, was now concealed behind a black, silk mask. She gave a slight giggle as she thought "I'm batman with no bat ears." The distorted face once again looked down at her. "Come on, honey," he said as he grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. "It's time to go party." Once the man had Mandy standing more or less upright, he leaned over and pushed his shoulder against her stomach while grabbing her around the waist. When he stood up, she was laying over his shoulder with her arms dangling toward the ground. As they walked quickly through the snow to the Emporium next door, Mandy could feel the snow biting against her bare skin. "I sure hope we don't have to cancel the show," said the man carrying Mandy. "The guys might be a bit upset... especially after coming here through this blizzard." "I said I'd think of something," Doc answered angrily. "I think she's coming round a little anyway," the man responded. "Must be the cold." "That's it!" Doc exclaimed. Then he shouted. "Tim, you run around back and open the big doors at the back of the stage. Bill, you follow him with the girl. I'll go tell Jake what's happening. All that has to change tonight is our slut's entrance." *** Johnathan "Jake" Jacobson stood on the stage of Big Jake's Sexual Emporium listening to the crowd become more and more agitated. The only sign that he was becoming anxious was the unconscious tapping of his left foot in time with the loud music that was blaring over the speakers in the club. As his gaze swept back and forth over the hundred or so men in the room, he would pause slightly while looking down the aisle toward the door. "It should be any minute now," he said softly. Since he was wearing a microphone, his voice carried throughout the club. A rather tall, sandy-haired man in black jeans burst through the door and strode up the aisle. Machine-embroidered on the pocket of his white knit shirt it said, "County Veterinary Services." Beneath that, it read, "Doctor Harold Norseman." Jake reached up, wrapped his hand around his microphone, and leaned forward. "What's up, Doc?" he asked quietly. "Slight change of program," Doc replied. "She gave us the wrong weight and ended up overdosed. I could give her a shot of adrenalin to counteract the sedative, but I've got an idea that will be much more entertaining and I don't have to guess at the proper dosage. We need about a dozen volunteers to keep her rolling around in the snow until she's fully awake." Jake walked over to the side of the stage and picked up a hand microphone. "Tell em what you need," he said as he handed the microphone to Doc. "OK, guys," Doc began, "our entertainment tonight is a little under the weather, but we are going to use the weather to wake her up." As he was speaking, two large, barn-sized doors at the back of the stage swung inward to reveal snow drifts three or four feet deep against the side of the building and two men standing in the snow. The bigger of the two men was carrying a naked woman over his shoulder. The fierce wind of the blizzard was blowing away from the doorway creating a snow-smeared tunnel of light spilling from the club, but still, cold air flowed in through the doors like a wave. "What I need, Doc continued, "is a dozen volunteers to keep tonight's slut dancing in the snow until she is fully awake." Almost every hand in the room shot into the air as a loud chorus of "Me, Doc," boomed out from the crowd. Doc pointed out a dozen men in the front row and they quickly ran onto the stage. Doc turned to the two men standing in the doorway. "Tim," he began, "you get these men in a circle shoulder to shoulder. Bill, you dump Amanda in the snow in the middle of the circle." Turning back to the men on stage, he said, "Just keep her in the snow until she is dancing and screaming." *** Amanda watched in slow motion as the large man carrying her bent slightly at the waist and dumped her off of his shoulder into the snow. The first sensation was icy cold and then it felt as if a thousand tiny ice needles were poking into her skin. She tried to scream, but it came out as a long bellow, almost like a high-pitched cow crying for its calf. She also tried to jump up out of the snow, but the best she could do was to push herself up to her hands and knees. Her head was still below snow level, so as she looked around all she could see was white. Then a booted foot pushed against her ass and propelled her, once again, head first into the snow. The scream this time sounded more like a billy goat in pain as she rose to her knees and tried get to her feet. No one had to push her back into the snow. She fell on her own. She did, however, manage to turn her body slightly so that she landed on her back. The shriek this time was almost human-sounding as she sprang to her feet and turned completely around looking for a way out of the circle of men. One of the men reached out and grabbed her shoulders. He turned her around quickly while at the same time pushing her toward the other side of the circle. She spun into the ground burying herself completely in the wet snow. She jumped up screaming and swearing. Her voice had returned. "What do you sons of bitches think you are doing?" she screamed as she tried to push her way out of the circle. "Waking you up," Bill said with a laugh. "And it looks like it worked." "You drugged me!" she yelled in Bill's face. "Actually, that was me," Doc said softly. "And if you had been honest about your weight we wouldn't have had to dump you in the snow. Of course, the adrenalin that woke you up will also put that overdose of aphrodisiac into overdrive." "What aphrodisiac?" Mandy yelled at him. "What's it do?" "Let's get you warmed up a little," he replied, "and you will find out for yourself." He then signaled for the men in the circle to let him pull Mandy out onto the stage. "This slut," he began to explain to the crowd, "wanted to know what it would be like to fuck one hundred men in one night." He reached out and stroked Mandy's breast as he said, "No safe words. No restrictions except that there be no permanent marks or injuries." "What?!" Mandy screamed. "If you are going to act like a spoiled brat," Doc said sternly, "we are going to have to treat you like a spoiled brat." He then turned to the crowd and said loudly, "And what happens to spoiled brats?" "They get spanked!" yelled back the crowd. Someone ran onto the stage with a heavy, wooden chair and set it next to Doc. He quickly sat down and pulled Mandy over his lap. She started to twist around to tell him to put her down, but when she began to speak, rather than a yell, what escaped from her mouth was a long, drawn out sigh as Doc slowly rubbed her ass and lower back. It felt sooooo good. It was as if his fingers were hot almost on fire and those burning fingers set her ass on fire. That fire quickly spread from her ass to her belly and then throughout her body. "Aaaaaaaaaahhhh," she warbled softly as his fingers slipped slightly between her ass cheeks. "What do you want?" Doc said as his hands moved slightly down onto the back of her legs. Mandy attempted to remain silent. She was able to keep herself from speaking, but she could not stop the loud sighs and moans which forced themselves out of her throat. "What do you want?" Doc repeated as he smacked her lightly on the ass with his open palm. She pressed her mouth firmly together. The moans were now being held back behind closed lips, but they were still loud enough to be heard by the entire crowd. "What do you want?" Doc said once again. His voice was getting louder and the sound of his hand striking her ass cheeks was also growing in volume. "Aaaaahhhh," she answered. "That's not a response," Doc said severely. He was now slamming the palm of his hand against her ass cheeks, raining blows down first on one reddening globe and then the other. Mandy was squirming on his lap. The heat within her seemed ready to consume her. She could feel her love juices flowing out of her cunt and soaking Doc's jeans. Her body was starting to bow upward. Her head was up almost to Doc's shoulder height. Her legs were curved upward with the knees slightly bent so that they were level with his head. "What do you want?" Doc repeated once more. "Fuuuuck meeee!!!" Mandy bellowed. The intensity of her own voice surprised... and scared her. "Please fuck me!" she screamed out, now losing control not only of her voice, but of her body as she writhed and twisted on Doc's lap. "I think I will do exactly that," Doc said with a laugh. "But first I think I am going to see if spanking you takes you high enough to pop. That mating drug I gave you should need only a little more adrenalin to fully kick in and then you will be totally a bitch in heat." He tried to push her head back down toward the floor, but was only partially successful. All he really did was to cause her legs to come even farther up into the air. "I think I need a little help up here," he said to the front row. Two men sprang out of their seats and rushed up onto the stage. "Squat or kneel on either end of her and pull her arms and legs down so her ass is properly presented," Doc instructed them. The one at Mandy's head knelt on the stage and pulled her arms down almost to the floor. The one at her feet squatted and attempted to pull her legs down. After a couple of grunts, he wrapped himself around her ankles and lay on top of her legs, pulling them down until her feet were touching the stage. "Here goes," Doc shouted loudly and began spanking once again. Now the pattern of his spanks was right cheek, left cheek, center... right cheek, left cheek, center. Each time he slammed down in the center of her ass, Mandy's head would snap up and she would give a loud grunt or gasp. After a several minutes, her gasps were becoming more like shrill moans. A few moments later, those moans were becoming shrill squeaks. Another few moments and those squeaks began to morph together into one, long, keening wail that increased in pitch and volume until suddenly Mandy began to thrash violently and scream out loudly, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" as her body convulsed in orgasm. "Hold her for me, boys," Doc said as he pushed her off of his lap and stood up next to the chair. He then grabbed her hips and brought her more or less into a standing position. The man who had been holding her hands down was now holding her upper arms as she stood bent over at the waist. Doc slid down the zipper of his black jeans and pulled his impressive member free of its restraint. He lined up with her slit and started to slide the head of his prick slightly up and down to get it lubricated. Mandy felt him at her entrance and gave a loud groan. She then drove her body backwards against him, driving him into herself in one swift stroke. After that, she started rocking in place, pumping Doc's prick in and out of herself like a giant dildo. She twisted her arms and pulled them free from the man in front of her. He tried to grab her once again, but stopped when he realized that she was opening the zipper of his jeans. She reached in and freed his almost erect cock. It wasn't as big as Doc's, but it was still a decent size. Mandy opened her lips and stuck her tongue slightly out of her mouth. Then sliding the prick along her tongue, she guided it into her mouth as she rocked forward. Neither man was moving as Mandy rocked back and forth between them, fucking herself at both ends. The rest of the evening for Mandy blurred together in a drug-induced orgasmic haze. She could clearly remember lying on the stage while men patiently waited in line to fuck her. She also remembered squatting over several different men, bouncing up and down on their pricks in time to the music blaring from the speakers while they groaned on the ground beneath her. At one point or was it at several points she impaled herself on one prick and then leaned forward to allow a second cock to enter her ass from behind. She had never really enjoyed anal sex before, but somehow the friction of the two cocks together drove her higher and higher. She knew that at least twice, there were three men, one in each opening. After what seemed like hours of intense orgasms, Mandy felt herself once again being carried outside through the blizzard. The men were walking much slower than they had when the brought her over from her room. She could feel the sharp sting of the snow biting her exposed skin, but her mind was perceiving it in an almost dream-like way, as if it were happening to someone else. Finally she could feel herself being dropped back into the bed in her motel room. Her naked self once again looked down at her from the mirror above the bed. Beneath the black mask which still covered the upper portion of her face, her reflection had a loopy grin as she waggled one finger at herself and said aloud, "Mandy, Mandy, Mandy, what in the hell did you get yourself into?" Then she faded off to sleep... or unconsciousness. When she awoke in the morning, she had a dull headache similar to a hangover, but nowhere near as severe. Removing the tight mask helped somewhat with the headache, but her head still throbbed slightly in the back. She lay in bed struggling to remember exactly what she had done or what had been done to her the night before. She could see from her cum-soaked body that she had definitely been the center attraction at a major orgy. The tenderness of her cunt and asshole reminded her of the excesses of the evening, but the details were still foggy. It was not until she was half-way through a long, hot shower that she was able to bring everything back into focus. By the time she had dried herself and begun to dress, everything had come back to her. She remembered everything, from the point where the crowd of men had entered her room all the way up to when they dumped her back into the whore-house-style bed. She had just finished drying her hair when there was a soft knock at her door. "Just a minute," she called out as she grabbed her blouse off the dresser and hastily buttoned it into place. "Miss Crawford," a voice called from the other side of the door, "we need to talk." Mandy opened the door. A huge gentleman dressed in jeans and a pale blue western shirt was standing in the hallway with a large, white, cowboy hat in his hands. "My name is Johnathan Jacobson," he said with a forced smile. "My friends call me Big Jake." He paused for a moment and then said, "May I come in?" Mandy motioned with her hand for him to enter and he stepped into the room. Once inside, he gestured toward the two chairs near the window and said, "Perhaps it would be best if we sat down to talk." After both he and Mandy were seated he cleared his throat and said, "It appears that we have had a failure of communication." Mandy remained silent. He cleared his throat once again and said, "The woman who was supposed to have had this room last night had purchased a contract to live out a very specific fantasy." He looked down at the carpet and said, "Her name was also Amanda." There was another small cough before he continued. "We are very careful to be sure that we don't do anything that someone doesn't want done to them." One more cough interrupted him. "That's why I called last night to verify that Amanda still wanted to go through with what she had paid for." "But you didn't realize that I thought you were talking about the high price for the room for the night," Mandy said firmly. "Exactly," Jake responded. "And that meant that what that other Amanda wanted to happen to her... ... happened to you." "Exactly," Mandy replied. "Now I know that you have reason... ample reason... to be upset," Jake continued. "But it was an honest mistake and if it went to a court of law everything would have to come out... including the recording of you saying that you would live up to the terms of the contract." "What are you trying to say?" Mandy asked flatly. Jake blew out a long breath between his teeth as he thought and then said quickly, "What is it going to take to make this go away?" He held up his hands and waved them slightly in front of his chest. "I'm not saying we didn't do wrong. I'm not saying that you wouldn't have a case in court. I'm just saying that this would get blown all out of proportion in the press and everyone would get hurt... including you... if we can't settle this between ourselves." "I'm thinking that it would take a lot to make this go away," Mandy said quietly. Jake grimaced as he looked back at her. "I'm thinking that you would have to give me..." she paused and looked over at Jake who was now nearly crushing his hat with his hands. "I'm thinking that you would have to give me," she repeated, "... twenty free fantasies at your Emporium. I think one every three months would be about right." Big Jake's eyes were now wide open. So was his mouth. "After that," Mandy continued, "I think a lifetime twenty-five percent discount would be in order." "I... I... I... I'd have to increase my ticket prices to make up for that," Jake sputtered out. "I can't sell liquor on special performance nights and the guys aren't there to eat." "After what they saw last night," Mandy responded, "I think they would pay double if they knew I was coming back." "Every three months?" Jake said, bringing his hand up to rub his chin. Evidently chin rubbing was common in this area when a man was thinking. "Every three months," Mandy repeated. "Sounds like we have a deal," Jake said, breaking into a big grin. He reached out and shook Mandy's hand as he asked, "You got any questions?" "One," Mandy answered. "What?" he asked. "Where in the hell am I?" she replied. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 UMPA Eleven http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952 BDSM Boot Camp http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11204 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Twelve Days a Slave 2 of 13 by The Technician Public Nudity, Public Humiliation, Involuntary Slavery = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Convicted terrorist, Vicki, is reduced to being slave missy. Vicki, a young woman who works for a large department store, figures out a way to bypass the electronic return tags on expensive dresses sold by the store where she works . This allows her to buy dresses on a Friday, wear them to events over the weekend, and return them on Monday. When a very expensive dress she is wearing is ruined at a party, everything unravels. She will be charged for the dress and can in no way afford to pay for it. A young man she recently met gives her a program that will allow her to remove the charges from her account. Unfortunately, that program contains a virus that infects not only computers in the store where she works, but many other businesses as well. This is the story of her conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible in the United States of America. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. This story deals with non-consensual punishment, pain, and involuntary slavery. If such topics offend you or upset you, I would advise skipping this particular book. There are thirteen chapters to this story. The chapters can be read on their own, but the story is much better understood if the previous portions have been read. The complete story is full book length. I debated publishing it with some of my other books at Fiction4all, but decided that I would rather serialize it and post it here. A description of the thirteen chapters follows the end of each chapter. This chapter is Vicki's "Day of Repentance" and her humiliating descent into slavery, including being renamed as slave missy. The chapter centers primarily on public nudity and public humiliation. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2016 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician} Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Chapter Two - A Day of Repentance Two weeks following her conviction, at nine o'clock in the morning, Vicki stood on the steps of the courthouse where she had been convicted and sentenced. The day had been determined not by the courts, but by the advertising cycles. William had set the date so that the maximum furor could be generated in social media and the most on-demand views purchased. The courthouse looked out on a large open square. That square and the route of her humiliation had been cordoned off. Tickets for watching from within the cordoned area had sold out immediately. Front row tickets were resold on-line for outrageous amounts. A large banner hung from the roof of the courthouse announcing today's date and time beneath the words, "A Terrorist Repents and Accepts Her Punishment." A large picture of Vicki in the orange prison dress, her hands and legs shackled, was also on the banner. Vicki had asked several times what exactly was going to happen, but William had been insistent that she should not know in advance what was going to happen to her. "You can't change it," he said. "Why force yourself to live it out in your mind in advance. Just accept what happens as it occurs and you will get through it." The first surprise for her day of repentance was the dress she was given to wear. It was an exact reproduction of the $32,000 dress that had been her downfall. That fateful weekend, her plan had been to wear the expensive designer dress to a Community Benefit Gala and return it to stock, but that was not to be. Samantha, the head salesperson on the designer dress floor, was also at the gala. When she saw Vicki she came over and intentionally spilled red wine down the front of the dress. Then leaning in close she had said, "You cost me a year-end bonus because returns were too high in my section." Then, almost snarling, she said, "Try returning that now, bitch." She couldn't return the dress... and there was no way that she could ever afford to pay for it. But Jarred, a boy at the party whom Vicki had dated, said he had a program which he would give her that would allow her to get into the proper files to take the cost off her account. It worked just as he said it would, but it also put a virus on the company's computers... a virus which spread to vendors, customers, and other businesses. A total of 46 companies were infected by the time Jarred triggered the virus crashing those computer systems on Black Friday, the busiest shopping day of the year. Jarred then posted a video claiming credit for the cyber attack in the name of the People's Economic Justice Front. That video was broadcast on all of the news networks almost as soon as it was received. Normally, Vicki didn't pay that much attention to news programs, but it was almost impossible to avoid seeing this particular video. And as soon as she saw the beginning, she recognized Jarred. Vicki stared at her TV. Could this be the young man who had helped her? At the end of the video, Jarred looked directly into the camera and said, "I would especially like to thank Vicki LeClaire. Without her help, none of this would have ever been possible." Vicki was still staring at her television screen two hours later when a special SWAT team from Homeland Security burst through the door to her apartment. She was dragged out to a heavily armored van and transported to a special security jail. Against the advice of her lawyer, she decided to tell the truth the whole truth. She should have listened to her lawyer. That truth was the basis for the eleven counts of theft of goods and services the dresses she had worn and returned. That truth was the basis for the embezzlement charge for changing the accounting files. That truth was read as testimony against her at her trial as proof that she was, indeed, the terrorist who had introduced the virus onto so many stores' computer systems. She was convicted on all charges. And now she stood at the top of the courthouse steps wearing a reproduction of the exact dress which had led to her downfall. She was dressed as she had been that night. Well, not exactly. Today she was wearing Aubade lingerie and Prada shoes items that she could never afford on her salary. And her hair had been styled by one of the best salons in town again, something she would never have been able to afford. A professional had even applied her makeup. She had never looked better. William had explained, "Everything is symbolic. We start you at the very top so that your fall to the bottom is that much more dramatic. ... People pay for drama." When she grimaced, he added, "That little trick added 10% to the cost of the tickets and 25% to the video rights. And for you, money is time." After a forced smile, he continued, "Trust me. I know what I am doing." She could see the clock in a church tower located on the opposite edge of the square. Whatever was going to happen would start in five minutes or less. As the hands on the clock came closer and closer to the top of the hour, William leaned in close to her and said, "Things are going to start in just a few moments. Remember, don't think about what is happening. Instead think about all those fantasies you had when you went out to all those BDSM sites." He had barely stepped away when six women encircled her. They looked very familiar, but it still took her a moment to recognize them. It was Samantha and her entire sales staff. "We paid a lot for the privilege of doing this," Samantha said. "And we are REALLY going to enjoy it," said one of the saleswomen. All six of them each held up a pair of scissors. "I think this dress needs a little modification," said one of them. "I agree," said Samantha as she began cutting one of the sleeves. Vicki fearfully expected them to immediately cut the lavish dress from her body, but instead they cut only thin strips of fabric from the hem and from the ends of the sleeves. When they finished, the dress was intact, but smaller. "Not quite enough," said Martha. Vicki remembered that she had bought several of the dresses through her. With an evil-sounding laugh, Martha cut another inch off the hem of the dress. "Still not quite slutty enough," she said as she stepped back. Another woman stepped forward and cut away about half of the sleeves. Vicki felt like screaming, "Just cut it off me!" but she knew that she had to remain totally quiet. For this day to count, she needed to remain silent until she made her statement of repentance at the other end of the route. The women continued their slow cutting away of the dress until it was barely below her panties. She could feel the air move against the bottom of her ass cheeks. Samantha picked up one of the long strips of fabric from the ground and said, "Let's try accessorizing." She then tied the strip around Vicki's waist like a belt. "I don't like the line that creates," said one of the women. "The upper portion needs to move freely," said another as she reached in with her scissors and cut the dress in half just above the improvised belt. "That's better, but it should still move more freely," Samantha said as she cut 2" off the upper portion of the dress revealing Vicki's trembling abdomen. "Now, the sleeves don't look right," said Martha. She cut what little remained of the sleeves off the dress. "I think it calls for the wife-beater look," Samantha said with a sneer as she began to cut the top into a shape which would match the sleeveless T-shirt commonly called a wife-beater. "Now her bra shows," said another of the women. "We can't have that." "Easily corrected," said Martha as she reached under the mangled top with her scissors and cut the sides of the bra. Two more snips and the straps were also cut. One of the women reached under the top and pulled the bra clear. Vicki gasped as it was pulled roughly off her breasts. "We have the same problem with her undies," one of the women giggled. They are showing under the dress." "Well," replied Samantha, also giggling, "you know how to fix that." Two of the women worked together. Each pushing their scissors under the dress to reach the sides of the panties. "Those should fall down on their own," Samantha said derisively. "...unless she's pissed herself or is getting all turned on by this." The sneer was gone from her face, but not from her voice. The six women stepped back slightly, each staring at Vicki's legs waiting for the panties to drop. "I don't see any pee on the ground," said Martha. "That can mean only one thing." "Oh," said Samantha with a deep laugh, "you are a naughty little girl aren't you." She reached up under the short remnant of the dress and pushed the sopping crotch of the panties to one side. She slid her finger through Vicki's slit and then downward, catching the panties as she pulled her hand out from beneath the dress. "If I had known how kinky you were, honey," she said, "we might have been able to work out something on the dresses." She held the panties to her nose for a second and said, "Definitely the smell of a turned on kinky cunt." She then dropped the panties on the steps at Vicki's feet. For some reason, seeing her wet panties lying at her feet was more embarrassing for Vicki than anything else that had occurred. She felt her skin redden with shame, but at the same time she felt her juices beginning to seep down her thigh. The thought that people would soon be able to see her wetness brought more shame which brought an additional flood which brought additional shame. Soon she could turn no redder. Perhaps her wetness had also reached its maximum. The women returned to their alterations of her dress. "If she is such a slut," Martha said, "then she really should try the topless look." Three women attacked what little was left of the top of the dress and soon it joined her panties in a pile at her feet. She was now standing bare-breasted in front of several thousand people and who knows how many throughout the world who were watching live video feeds of the event. Her wetness had not reached its maximum. "The dress is still too long for a slut like Vicki," Samantha said. One of the women responded by cutting an additional 2" from the micro-mini remnants of the lower portion of the dress. Now her ass cheeks were definitely on display from the back. From the front, her cunt was not quite visible, but wisps of her pubic hair hung down just far enough to make themselves known beneath the dress. Samantha now stood directly in front of Vicki. They were face to face. Samantha tilted her head slightly as if she were going to kiss Vicki, but instead reached up under her dress with her left hand and cupped Vicki's gushing mound. "Life is full of missed opportunities," she said softly. "We really could have had some good times together." She then smiled and said cheerily. "I did have fun here today, though." She formed her mouth into a pouty frown and said, "Too bad things are going to get a little more intense for you at this point. I think you were starting to enjoy this, too." She then reached over with her right hand and cut down the front of the remainder of the dress. Catching that small piece of fabric in her left hand, she held it aloft for all the crowd to see before dropping it on the ground with the rest of Vicki's clothing. The crowd roared out its response as Samantha, Martha, and the other four women walked up the steps and into the courthouse leaving Vicki standing naked behind them. *** Vicki stood naked except for her high heels at the top of the courthouse steps. She had no idea what came next, so she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. The only thing that she knew for sure was that she was supposed to stay there and keep quiet. So that is what she did. She stood quietly awaiting the next portion of her repentance. She could hear footsteps behind her. Someone in heels was walking toward her. She managed to keep from turning around to see who it was, but as the footsteps came down the steps, she couldn't help herself from turning her head slightly. It was the stylist who had done her hair! "You didn't think I did all that work this morning out of the goodness of my heart, do you?" she said with a light silvery laugh. Vicki thought that this was probably how the woman spoke to her expensive clientele in her downtown shop. The stylist held something in her hands. Vicki wasn't sure what it was until it began humming like an angry wasp. It was a set of electric hair clippers. "I've always wanted to do this," the stylist said as she reached up and placed the clippers in the center of Vicki's forehead. "How would you like it styled today?" she asked cheerily as she pushed the buzzing tool back through Vicki's hair. The sudden coolness on the top of her head told Vicki that there was a bald strip down the center of her head. "I think we need to even that up just a bit, don't you?" the stylist asked. She then returned the clippers to Vicki's head and began making pass after pass across her scalp. Vicki looked down at her feet. Her damp panties and the scraps of dress were now being covered with twisted piles of hair. She began to cry softly. "Oh, don't worry, honey," the stylist said. "We will make sure that everything is properly finished out." She smiled and asked, "Won't that be nice?" Vicki remained silent. A moment later, the stylist patted her on her now totally bald head. "Collar and cuffs should always match," the stylist said in her falsely cheery voice. She then reached down between Vicki's legs with the clippers and began to remove her pubic hair. "Some stylists would be satisfied with that," she said firmly after all hair there was also gone. "But I am not just some stylist. I have a reputation to maintain." She clapped her hands and a man ran up to her carrying a heavy wooden tray. There was a machine of some sort on the tray that Vicki didn't recognize. The stylist pushed a button on the top of the machine. It whirred loudly and foam of some sort filled the stylist's hands. "Only the best for my customers," the stylist said as she began to apply the foam to Vicki's head. It was warm almost hot and seemed to sting slightly. "There are herbs in my special mixture that cause the hair to stand on end," the stylist explained. "They sting just a little, but it is worth it for the closeness of the shave." She then picked up a razor from the tray and began shaving Vicki's head. The razor was very much like a standard women's razor that you could buy at most stores, but somehow it looked... more expensive. It took only a moment for the stylist to finish Vicki's head. She then said, "Spread your legs wider." Vicki complied. The foam felt hotter on her pussy than it had on her head, but then again she was more sensitive between the legs than she was on her head. The stinging was also worse much worse. "I added extra herbs just for today," the stylist said. "I'm sure you want to be shaved extra close." Again, it took only a moment for the stylist to finish. The man handed her a wet towel and she wiped Vicki's head and then her cunt. The after-effects of the herbs caused the skin to tingle and feel cold. "Normally I guarantee that you will stay smooth for at least five days," she said. She then cocked her head slightly and said, "It's a pity you won't know how long my shave would have lasted for you." With that she and her assistant walked down the steps and off into the crowds. Vicki wondered what the stylist had meant by her not knowing how long the shave would have lasted, but there was no one to ask. And even if there were someone to ask, she was supposed to remain quiet. Vicki stood as she had been left by the stylist. Her feet were a little more than a shoulder width apart and her hands were at her side. She could feel the air moving over her bald head and over her now smooth crotch. She had often thought about completely shaving her sex, but had never had the nerve. After all, only those kinds of girls shaved totally bare. "I guess I'm one of those kinds of girls now," she thought to herself. She could hear men's voices behind her, but they sounded muffled for some reason. A clearer voice, a woman's, said loudly "You can start as soon as we get the area cleaned up and I put the protective caps in place." Vicki had no idea what the protective caps were or where they would be put in place. The suspense was almost too much and she was very tempted to turn around to see what was happening behind her. Luckily, just as she was about to turn, a mid-20s young woman in white, haz-mat coveralls stepped out in front of her. The woman stood quietly while an older man in grey coveralls and a young man in blue jeans gathered up the scraps of her clothing. The older man then swept up the hair and small pieces of cloth which were still lying on the steps. "We need the shoes, too," said the young man and Vicki stepped out of the shoes. She was now totally naked, but somehow felt less naked barefoot than she had in the high heels. "You'll need to stand very still while I apply these protective caps," the woman said loudly. "The seals have to be perfect or you could lose your eyelashes... or even your sight." She then took a clear plastic dome about the size of a shot glass out of a bag that was hanging from her shoulder. After checking something on the cap, she reached back into the bag and brought out a small tube of thick gel-like material which she applied to the edges of the cap. "Close your left eye," she instructed. Vicki did so and the woman set the cap over Vicki's eye, pressing firmly while she counted out loud to 25. "Now close your right eye," she commanded. Again, Vicki did so and a few moments later she felt something being pressed tightly over that eye as the woman once again counted to 25. "You can open your eyes now," the woman said. Vicki did so and realized that she was now wearing what looked like tanning goggles, except they were totally clear, and there was no band holding them in place because they were glued to her face. "Ready," the woman said in her loud and clear voice. Two men in full haz-mat protective suits, including taped gloves and fully-hooded headpieces, walked out in front of her. These must have been the muffled voices which she had heard behind her. "Try not to move around too much," one man said. "If you rub your skin while the solvent is still working, you can cause irritation. It will take a few minutes for the chemicals to kill the roots of the hair follicles." The other man, who had been standing behind him, stepped forward with two 3-gallon sprayers like you would use for pesticides in a garden. Handing one to the first man, he said, "Remember, top to bottom then back up until both units are empty." That is what they did. Starting with Vicki's head, they sprayed a layer of some sort of gooey liquid on her skin. It was bluish-green and smelled like stagnant water. A few moments later, Vicki's skin began to burn. "Don't touch yourself!" the second man commanded. "Keep your legs well-spread and try not to clench your ass," the other added. It took all of Vicki's willpower to keep herself from dancing in place or trying to rub the vile liquid from her skin. A short while later, she heard the hissing of the two sprayers as they emptied completely. "Five minutes," the first man said. "Starting now," the woman added as she once again stepped in front of Vicki. The two men were no longer visible but then not much was. The caps protected Vicki's eyes, but they were coated with the blue-green slime and she really couldn't see anything very well. "Two minutes to go," the woman said. Vicki felt like she were being dissolved in acid. How could she stand two more minutes of this torture? "One minute," the woman said. Then "thirty seconds." At ten seconds the woman began counting down. Vicki felt herself pulsing with the count of each second. Finally the woman said, "Five minutes," and again stepped out of the way. The two men were back. Now they had much smaller tanks, but much larger sprayers. A hose snaked off into the distance from each tank, so evidently the tank was just to mix something into water that would flow through the hose. Vicki wasn't sure what was being added to the water, but she knew for certain that the water was cold extremely cold. It was colder than any water that she had ever poured from a tap. Again the men started at the top and worked their way downward. The one man turned his sprayer so that it was spraying directly up between Vicki's legs. She gasped as the frigid water pushed its way slightly up into her slit. At least the cold, or the chemicals added to the water, stopped the burning. The rinsing seemed to go on forever, but it was actually only about ten or fifteen minutes. By the end, Vicki was shivering violently and her teeth were chattering. Both men now trained their sprayers on the ground, washing away the residue of the original glop. As they worked their way back behind Vicki, the woman once again faced her. "Hold out your arms to the side and spread your feet as far out as you can." Vicki did as she was instructed, fearing what might come next. There was suddenly a loud roar behind her that sounded like a mix of a noisy truck engine and a jet taking off. A strong, hot wind began blowing against Vicki's back. "Turn around slowly," the woman instructed. As she turned, Vicki could see that the hot wind was coming from a large heater like would normally be used up north to warm up stalled trucks in the wintertime. She tried to turn as slowly as she could so that she could luxuriate in the warmth, but the woman said testily, "We don't have all day. Keep it moving." When Vicki was once more facing out toward the crowds, the woman reached up with a large, strange looking set of pliers and grabbed one of the protective cups. "This may sting a little coming off," she said as she slowly pulled the cap off Vicki's left eye. A moment later, she removed the cap on the right eye. "Now you never have to shave anything... ever again," the woman said cheerily. Vicki stared numbly back at her as she realized "anything" included not only her pubic hair, but also her eyebrows and the hair on her head. "Time for your walk," a man's voice said as the woman stepped aside. Two bailiffs stepped forward and began attaching the shackles. These were slightly different than what had been used before. There was a heavy metal collar with a chain that connected to the center point of the chain for the wrist manacles. From there it also went down to the center point of the chain for the leg shackles. After everything was in place, one of the bailiffs attached a long chain to the point where the neck chain joined the wrist manacles. As he pulled on it, her hands were forced upward and forward. The bailiffs pulled her slowly down the steps, letting her get used to walking in the chains. Once they reached the street, they attached the other end of the chain to the back of a military caisson wagon. Vicki felt like she was an ancient prisoner of war ready to be paraded naked before the people. In many ways, that was exactly what she was. The horses began moving. Vicki had no choice but to follow the caisson through the downtown area until she came to the store where she used to work. Once there, she would read her prepared statement of repentance and acceptance. Vicki had known this would happen. She had known that she would walk from the courthouse to the store where she worked and there read her statement of repentance. She didn't know that she would be chained to the back of a ancient military wagon for that walk. She didn't know that she would be more than naked. And she didn't know that people in the crowd would be throwing rotten vegetables and eggs at her the entire fourteen blocks to the store. "William probably sold them the eggs," she thought to herself. "Or at least he charged extra for the privilege." For a moment she felt bitterness almost hatred toward William Wilson, but then she remembered that her sentence was twelve million dollars. Anything that went toward that amount lowered her final time as a slave. Without her negotiator, she would have been a slave forever. So, standing straight with her shoulders back she forced herself to complete her walk of shame. As she walked, she looked at the people in the crowd. There were men and women, old and young. Surprisingly, there were even young children in the crowd. Even more surprisingly, many of the children were holding unclothed dolls. Some of them held up their dolls as she walked past. It wasn't until the fifth block of her walk that Vicki suddenly realized that the dolls were her. One young man even had a full caisson set with her being pulled naked behind it. Looking through some of the shop windows, she could see displays of herself, exactly as she now was. There was even one almost life-sized doll watching over a large display of smaller dolls. The large, naked doll looked very accurate. She tried to see if it was also accurate between its legs, but was distracted by a price tag or something which was printed on the front of the doll. It was surprising to her how many of the people were giving garbage to their children to throw. To her, that seemed somehow wrong. But her opinions no longer mattered. Besides, there was nothing she could do about it. All she could do was walk behind the horse-drawn caisson which was pulling her through the streets. When she finally reached the store, two more men in hazmat suits stood ready with hoses to wash the eggs and garbage off her body. There were no extra tanks connected to the hoses, so this was evidently just water. It was also considerably warmer than the water which was used to rinse the blue-green goo off her body. Unfortunately, there was no powerful heater to warm her and dry her when they finished. Her nipples hardened into tight nubs in the cold as she walked up onto the platform and faced the crowd. Her prepared statement of repentance was waiting for her at the podium. It was printed out in large type. Since she had not seen it before, she tried to scan it rapidly. A bailiff stood alongside her. "You have one minute to begin or the deal falls through," he said gruffly. Vicki picked up the paper and began to read. "I am heartily sorry that I have violated the law, but more than that I am deeply sorry for any harm I have caused to come upon any person or business. I readily admit my guilt and accept my punishment, including my... my... my..." She couldn't form the words. "Continue," said the bailiff sternly. Suddenly William was standing beside her. "You can do this," he said. "This is the toughest part. You can do this." Vicki took a deep breath and resumed reading, " I readily admit my guilt and accept my punishment, including my branding as a slave until full restitution has been paid to the courts." She set down the paper and began sobbing. Mr. Wilson took her by the shoulders and led her to another portion of the raised platform. "It's not an old-fashioned brand," he said. "There's no branding iron. It's more like a tattoo." Two bailiffs guided her over to a large, strangely-shaped, curved table. It looked almost like part of a large barrel. One of the men pushed her back against the curved surface while the other began strapping her arms and legs in place. Then a third bailiff, a woman, stepped forward with a large, strange-looking flashlight. The flashlight was actually a laser branding device. The woman pressed it against Vicki's pubic mound a few inches above her slit. Suddenly an excruciating pain flashed through Vicki's body. "That's one," said the woman as Vicki screamed. She then moved the device so that it was pressed against Vicki's skin just above her left breast. The woman pushed a button on the side of the device and once again excruciating pain flashed through Vicki's body. It was there and then it was gone, but that quick flash of pain was enough to cause Vicki to scream and, this time, to lose control of her bladder. She sobbed in pain and shame as her piss puddled under her. The two bailiffs released her from the restraints and helped her to her feet. They moved her back to the other section of the platform where the judge stood waiting. As she approached she could see that, for some reason, there was a large mirror next to the judge. The purpose of the mirror became evident when the judge spoke. "Vicki LeClaire is no more," he said solemnly pointing towards the mirror. His words were true. The figure looking back at her from the mirror was not Vicki. "From now until your sentence is complete," the judge continued, "you are slave missy, also known as prisoner PS382563." Slave missy looked at her reflection in the mirror. Reading the mirror image, she could see that just above her cunt it said "Penal Slave 382563." Above her left breast it read, "Slave Missy." William was standing beside her. "The worst is over for today," he said. She looked at him with tears flowing from her eyes. She reached up with her right hand and lightly stroked the brand that proclaimed her to be slave missy. "I used some of my commission to buy the naming rights," he said softly. "It could have been something really terrible. Or if no one met the price, your default name would have been slutslave563. I thought you deserved more than that." Vicki... missy, gave him a crooked smile that said she understood. She then looked around trying to figure out what else was awaiting her on her day of repentance. "Lower the cage," one of the bailiffs cried out as he and two other bailiffs began moving people away from the center of the platform. Missy looked up. A mechanism of some sort had been attached to the roof of the store. It looked like the winches that the window washers used to raise and lower their platform, but there was only one cable. And hanging at the bottom of that cable was a cage. "You are to hang for one half hour at each floor level," the bailiff announced. "Then you will hang just above the street until the sun has set." He then took her by the arm and moved her into the cage. The cage itself was circular, about three feet in diameter, and a little over six feet tall. Missy could stand in the cage, but couldn't sit or kneel or otherwise rest. She grabbed hold of the bars as the cage rapidly began to rise up into the air. She screamed all the way up as the cage swung wildly like a pendulum. When it reached the fourteenth floor, it stop rising, but still continued to swing wildly for several more minutes. When the cage finally stopped, missy could see that she was just outside the executive board room. There appeared to be a party going on. One of the men suddenly pointed out the window and everyone gathered to look at her. One of the women raised her glass of champagne as if offering a toast. The rest of the room matched her action. Then someone taped a large piece of paper to the window. Written in large black letters were the words, "You're Fired!" The person who had taped the paper to the window raised his glass toward the cage one final time, then laughed and closed the curtains. Missy started to cry. The closing of the curtain did something to her that nothing else had done. It made her feel insignificant. People staring at her as her clothing was cut from her body was embarrassing. Being paraded through the town totally naked was humiliating. Being branded was torture. But through all that she was still a person. People were paying attention to her. She was still a part of their world. The people in the streets below wondered what had caused the long, anguished scream they heard from the cage. As the curtain closed, missy was forced to accept that she was now nothing. She meant nothing to anyone. She was a slave... not even a person. She was a nothing hanging outside a closed window. As she screamed, her hands gripped the bars of the cage. Her head slowly sank down to rest against her arms. She was crying heavily... uncontrollably. Her body slid down so that it was partially crumpled with her ass against one side of the cage and her knees against the opposite side. At the end of the half hour the cage began to move downward. The movement startled slave missy, but at least it didn't start to swing. The thirteenth floor was a mechanical floor, so the only personnel on that floor were maintenance workers and cleaning crews. Four maintenance men were watching through a window. The next window over was a break room. It looked like the entire cleaning staff was gathered watching. There was no evidence of a party in either room. And no one was laughing as they watched her. The top floor could laugh at her and close the curtains on her and forget her, but these people were the bottom rung of the employees. Not as much separated them from the naked woman who hung outside their window. They stared silently at missy for the entire thirty minutes she hung outside the thirteenth floor. The reaction on the remaining floors was somewhere between the extremes of the upper floors. Two differences were at the ninth floor and the fifth floor. The ninth floor was the accounting floor where Vicki, now slave missy, had once worked. Everyone on the floor glanced up, but none of the men and women from accounting could bring themselves to come over to the window. They knew that Vicki wasn't really a terrorist. All of them were thinking how easily it could be them hanging in that cage if they had accidentally introduced a virus into the computer system. The fifth floor was the designer dress floor. Samantha and her sales people were waiting at the window when missy was lowered to their floor. They also raised a toast to her, but their drinks appeared to be soft drinks in plastic cups. Missy remembered Samantha's comment about what might have been. Pulling herself up and standing straight, she smiled at the faces in the window. Then she reached down and cupped her own sex, sliding her fingers deep within. She smiled at the shocked faces, except for Samantha who continued to smile at her. Missy lifted her glistening hand up to her mouth and blew across it, as if blowing a kiss. Samantha grabbed the blown pussy out of the air and held her hand under her own nose. She inhaled deeply and smiled back at slave missy. Neither of them was aware of what else happened for the rest of the half hour as they gazed into each other's eyes. As the cage began to descend once again, Samantha mouthed clearly, "Life is full of lost opportunities." It was late afternoon by the time the cage finally stopped just below the first floor. Crowds gathered beneath her. Many were taking pictures with their phones. A few professionals in the crowd were using quality cameras with long lenses. Missy tried to turn herself so they couldn't zoom in on her nakedness, but turning away from one photographer merely turned her toward another. Finally she gave up and stood passively as the cage itself slowly rotated back and forth on its cable, displaying her to the entire crowd. As the sun began to set, the two bailiffs who had been with her on the platform began moving the crowd back. The caisson wagon was brought in so that the top of the ammunition box was directly beneath her. A few moments later, the cage again descended until it came to rest on the top of the caisson box itself. The bailiffs slipped some cargo ratchet straps through the bars and under the caisson box and locked it in place. Then one of the bailiffs climbed onto the caisson and reached above the cage to release the cable. The driver climbed into the wagon seat and gathered up the reins which controlled the four horses pulling the caisson. With a loud "Hee-a-yup" he urged the horses to their task and they clip-clopped back up the path which missy had walked that morning. Their pace was significantly faster than it had been with missy walking behind them. When they arrived at the jail, they didn't go into the indoor prisoner transfer area. Instead the horse-drawn caisson was pulled up to the loading dock at the back of the jail. A winch arrangement on the docks was used to lift the cage and set it back down on a warehouse pallet. Then one of the bailiffs used a pallet jack to roll missy back to her cell. When they arrived at her cell, the bailiff said, "Stick your foot through the bars." Vicki did and the bailiff unlocked one of the shackles. "Other foot," he said and the other shackle was removed. The procedure was repeated with each arm. Then the bailiff pulled on the neck chain as he said, "Back against the bars." Missy could hear a loud click and the metal collar was removed. The cage was then set inside missy's cell. The bailiff unlocked the door to the cage and took the padlock with him. "Don't attempt to open the cage until I have your cell door secure," he ordered. Once the cell door was securely shut, he said, "You can get out now." Missy opened the cage and stepped into her cell. The orange dress was nowhere to be seen, so she remained naked. A few minutes later a guard came with a food tray. It was standard prison food and didn't look all that tasty, but missy hadn't eaten all day and finished everything before sliding the tray back under the bars to the waiting guard. "Where is my dress?" she asked. "You're a slave now," the guard answered. "If the temperature is above 58 degrees, you're not allowed clothing." He laughed and then added, "It's always above 70 in here. You do the math." Missy sat on her bed and cried. She wondered if she could actually run out of tears. She was a slave... a piece of property. They had even brought her back to her cell like she were a part of the heavy iron cage in which she was displayed. "At least they let me have a pillow and a sheet," she thought to herself as she sat down on the bed. A little while later, she cried herself to sleep. She had not yet run out of tears. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END CHAPTER TWO OF THIRTEEN = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Chapter Summaries Chapter One: Vicki LeClaire is convicted of all charges. A sentencing agreement is negotiated by William Wilson, a professional slave sentence negotiator. This chapter primarily sets the scene for the rest of the book. Once that is done, the action near the end centers around public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Two: Vicki's "Day of Repentance" and her humiliating descent into slavery, including being renamed as slave missy. This chapter centers primarily on public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Three: The first of missy's 11 days of public punishment. On this first day of punishment, Master Hiroya Takahashi demonstrates properly-trained pony girls, and instructs missy on the proper way to receive a punishment spanking. The focus of this chapter is pony girls and public spanking. Chapter Four: The second day of punishment begins with a flogging contest by a company called Judicial Placements Incorporated. Her negotiator... and new Master, William Wilson, flogs missy the required forty-six times to fulfill the terms of her sentence. This chapter is totally focused on non-consensual flogging. Chapter Five: Slave missy's third day of punishment. She is once again subject to a spanking, this time by the head of a private girls' reformatory. Before her spanking, several of the young women from the reformatory also receive public punishment. This is a spanking chapter with bare hand, slipper, paddle, and leather belt. Chapter Six: The fourth day. On this day of punishment, she is caned... by a robot, or more accurately, by a computer-driven mechanical spanking machine. Before her caning, James Madison demonstrates his company's machines. This chapter focuses on mechanical flogging, paddling, and caning. It also delves into self-bondage and pain-pleasure. Chapter Seven: The fifth day. Slave missy is punished by water combined with heat, cold, and electricity. This chapter focuses on various types of water punishment. Chapter Eight: On the sixth day of her punishment, missy is introduced to "The Whipmaster." Before punishing her he provides a demonstration of his abilities. The chapter is focused on public nudity, public humiliation, and public flogging of one sort or another. Chapter Nine: The seventh day for slave missy is a day for electro-punishment. Slave missy becomes part of the vidshow, "Wheel of Pleasure, Wheel of Pain." Chapter Ten: The eighth day introduces a unique punishment punishment by combat. There is also an undercard of slave wrestling with humiliation and pain in store for the loser. Chapter Eleven: The ninth day of punishment is a lottery. The public is given the chance to paddle the repentant terrorist. Eight lucky winners each get to give her five swats with a special paddle. One lucky winner gets to finish the forty-six required for her punishment by laying six swats of the paddle across missy's ass. The undercard is also part of the lottery. Three slaves in need of punishment will each receive 20 swats, again with one lottery winner delivering 5 of those swats. In addition, there are two volunteers. One is a male member of the stage crew who is coming out as a pain slut. The other is a woman who has been at every performance so far and wants to experience public punishment and humiliation. Hers is a special case and her husband will deliver however many swats it takes to make her cum. Twenty-five winners were chosen to participate. Each was asked to write a short essay saying why they should be the one to deliver the final six to the repentant terrorist. The winner finishes off missy. Chapter Twelve: This tenth day returns missy to old-school punishment as she receives an old- fashioned caning. There is also a contest between slaves to see who can withstand the most strokes of the cane. Chapter Thirteen: (Last Chapter) Slave missy finally reaches her final day of punishment. After having been punished by hand, slipper, paddle, cane, water, and electricity, missy is punished with pleasure. She is strapped into a high-tech denial/teasing/edging device and taken to the very brink of orgasm 46 times.

Birching Miss Birch - Part Three of Three by The Technician BDSM, F/f, Slavery, Spanking, Mechanical, Electro, Edging, Cold Water, Humiliation = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A Mad Bitch Office Manager is tamed by her secretary. An autocratic and abusive office manager, known by all who work under her as The Mad Bitch, is retrained during a weekend Wilderness Bonding Experience and turned into a submissive slave, lily. Slave lily is a natural-born pain-slut, so this story involves a lot of pain and humiliation. If that isnt your preferred genre, you might want to skip this story. Also, all sex is F/f, so if you want M/F or M/f, this isnt your story. In this final part, slave lily learns the importance of doing favors for others. Completing those favors, however, involves more than a little pain and humiliation. The story is in three parts. Each part stands more or less on its own, but makes more sense if you have read the previous parts. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician} Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Chapter Three of Three Amanda Birch once called Maddy or The Mad Bitch, now called slave lily was given the evening off by her new Mistress, Darla Lewis. Surprisingly, there was a very good wifi signal available at the remote cabin. So after Maddy/lily had brought in a sufficient amount of wood from the stacked piles behind the cabin, they both connected to the net Darla to catch up on her mail and to post on a dominatrix web site that she had a new slave. Maddy to check in at several of the websites that had fueled her fantasies for so many years. On one site, she posted I have found a Mistress at last. She signed into her favorite site, and minutes later was slowly stroking her breasts with one hand while sliding a finger through her slit as she watched a video of a Mistress flogging a bound slave. Her hand was just starting to dig deeper into her cunt when Darlas voice commanded, Dont you dare cum without my permission, slave! Darla got up from the bed where she was lying propped up on a pile of pillows. She stood in front of Maddy and said, Listen, lily, when I said that you couldnt cum without my permission, I didnt mean just while I had you over my knee. I own you now. I own what you do and what you say. And I own your orgasms. You dont have one unless I tell you that you can. You got that?! Yes, Mistress Darla, Maddy whimpered. She went back to watching the videos from the website, but kept her hands on her thighs, occasionally digging her fingers into her thighs while giving out a strained moan. Several hours later Darla announced, Time for bed. And you remember to keep that fire nice and warm all night. Maddy crawled over to the head of the bed and knelt silently staring with puppy dog eyes and a pleading expression on her face. Whats the matter, lily? Darla asked with exaggerated sympathy in her voice. Do you need to cum before you go to sleep? Maddy said nothing, but shook her head yes. Her face was beet red from the embarrassment of admitting her internal needs. I tell you what, Darla answered, I could use a good cum myself. If you take me over the top with your tongue, then you can lie in front of the fire and rub yourself all night if you want to. Does that sound like a good idea to you, lily? Yes, Mistress Darla, Maddy gushed. Her happiness was very obvious on her face. Then you stay right there while I get myself ready for bed, Darla replied. Then when I get back you can put your tongue to work where it matters most. And remember, when I get close, I expect you to do a full rim job before you take me over the top. Yes Mistress Darla, Maddy replied. Maddy knelt obediently beside the bed while Darla did her bathroom routine. Maddy could hear Darla using the toilet and suddenly thought, I hope she wipes herself clean. She had already decided that she would do whatever she was ordered, regardless, when she heard the sound of the shower. Thank you, Mistress Darla, she said softly. A few minutes later, Darla emerged from the bathroom and lay back on the bed. Maddy had pulled the sheets and covers down and had re-distributed the pillows across the bed. Darla said nothing, but spread her legs and tapped her mound lightly, as if calling a dog to a treat. Maddy quickly scrambled up onto the bed and pressed her lips against Darlas hairy cunt. She licked lightly for several moments and then used her lips to pull slightly on Darlas prominent clit. She could feel that large nub engorge with her ministrations. Darla began to move her hips slightly as Maddy continued to lick and nibble. She gave out a heavy moan when Maddy pulled the clit into her mouth and suckled heavily. Thats it, lily, she said. Maddy worked her face deeper into Darlas cunt, licking and slurping and nibbling with her lips. She wiggled her face from side to side and Darla responded by bucking against her with her hips. Darla was very close to climax when lily remember that she had been ordered to also service her rosebud. She moved her tongue deeper between Darlas legs and began thrusting into her ass. She would push as deeply as she could into the rosebud, and then flick the tip of her tongue around the edges of Darlas dark eye. Darla was now bucking and thrusting almost hard enough to bring her rather substantial body up off the mattress. Suddenly, Maddy felt Darlas hands grasping her head and pulling it upward. Darla pushed her face forcefully into her cunt. She needed no other encouragement and began licking and sucking intensely until Darla arched her back thrusting herself even more tightly against her face and screamed out a long ecstatic groan of release. Maddy kept licking softly until Darla finally said, Thats enough, lily. You can go back over to the fire and get yourself off now. Maddy did exactly that. She crawled over to in front of the fire and flopped over onto her back with her legs bent and spread. She rubbed furiously for only a moment before throwing back her head and gasping in climax. Darla chuckled from the bed. This is the way it is going to work, my little lily-white pain-slut, she announced. Each time you build up the fire, you can have one orgasm. Does that sound fair? Yes, Mistress Darla, Maddy responded as she curled up on the rug in front of the fire. I will keep the fire burning brightly all night. Ill bet you will, Darla laughed. Ill bet you will. *** When Darla woke Sunday morning, the cabin was more than comfortably warm and the room reeked of sex. Maddy was sleeping peacefully in front of the fire. Her feet were resting on the step in front of the fireplace with her legs spread out so that the glow of the fire reflected off her wet cunt. That girl is almost insatiable, Darla said out loud to herself with a slight laugh. One of these days Im going to have to see what it takes to wear her out. She then shouted out, Rise and shine, lily. Get your white ass into that kitchen and rustle me up some breakfast. Maddy rose groggily to her feet and murmured, Yes, Mistress Darla. Then still half-asleep, she stumbled into the kitchen to make breakfast. The sizzle of bacon and the occasional yelp from the spattering grease striking skin filled the kitchen while the sound of a shower running came from the bathroom. By the time Darla was finished with her shower, Maddy was finished with the bacon and eggs and had them, two slices of toast, and a steaming hot cup of coffee, waiting on the table. Darla nibbled at the toast and tasted the coffee before announcing, Its OK. You can eat now. And then go get yourself cleaned up. *** About a half-hour later, Maddy and the kitchen were sparkling clean. Darla was sitting at the table wearing a pair of jeans and one of the camps polo shirts. She looked up as Maddy came into the room and picked up a crop from the table. She used it to call her over to stand alongside her. Once Maddy was standing next to her, Darla reached up and slowly rubbed the leather flap of the crop across Maddys nipples. Maddy responded with a soft moan as Darla said, Today, Im going to teach you your first lesson in getting ahead, She tapped a nipple lightly with the crop and continued, You are always demanding things from everyone, yet you never give to others. Thats why no one will go out of their way to help you. If you do favors for others, they do favors for you. Maddy stood silently next to the table as Darla continued, This morning you are going to do a favor for Jessie, and this afternoon you are going to do a favor for an old friend of mine. Then tonight, we are going to meet with the office staff for the wrap up of this weekend. She reached out with the crop and smacked Maddy on the ass and said, Put on your collar and leash and meet me outside. Maddy scampered to retrieve her collar and leash from the mantle of the fireplace. By the time she got to the door of the cabin, Darla was already striding down the path. Maddy ran after her, holding her leash out in front of her until she caught up and placed the end of the leash in her Mistresss outstretched hand. You see, Darla said with a laugh as she slowed her stride, once you give someone what they truly want, they are bound to you. Then tugging slightly she added, ... almost as if you had their leash in your hand. Maddy reddened as she realized that what Darla said was true at least about her. Darla had given her what she truly needed someone to dominate her sexually and now she was bound very tightly to her new Mistress. Darla continued to walk briskly down the path, but unlike the previous day when they had continued straight out the path to the birch trees, today she turned at the first intersection on the trail. This leads to the pond, she said. Jessie needs someone to finish getting it ready for winter. She looked back at Maddy and smiled before saying, And thats where you come in. They walked in silence for several minutes until they came to a small lake. A large flat raft and another with a small diving board tower on it had been pulled up onto the shore. A couple dozen canoes were stored upside down in racks under one of two large picnic shelters. The other shelter contained a large number of picnic tables set almost on edge so that snow would not accumulate on their tops through the winter. Looks like everything is already ready for winter, doesnt it? asked Darla. Maddy looked around, not sure what to say, and then stammered, I guess so? Dont guess, said Darla sharply as she smacked Maddy on the ass with the crop in her hand. Use your eyes. What doesnt look ready for winter? Maddy slowly scanned the beach and the lake, then suddenly said, The floats marking the swimming area are still in the water? Thats right, Darla answered. When the lake freezes it will crush them. Darla turned Maddy so they were eye-to-eye. So what do you think we need to do next? she asked. Bring them in? answered Maddy. No, Darla replied, once again smacking Maddy on the ass with the crop. What we need to do next is to gather up a lot of firewood and build a big fire. Maddy looked at her for a moment with a very confused look on her face, but then said, Yes, Mistress Darla. Actually, what you need to do is more carry than gather, Darla said with a laugh. There is a big pile of wood over there on the other side of that shelter. Bring it out here to this fire pit close to the shore and stack it up for a fire. Maddy made a dozen or so trips from the woodpile to the fire ring before Darla said, That ought to be enough. Now gather up small branches from the ground to use as kindling. After Maddy had done so, Darla produced a lighter and a small block of fire starter from her duffle bag. Always be prepared, she said as she handed it to Maddy. Soon the fire was beginning to crackle and grow hot and Darla asked, Do you know why I had you make a fire? No, Mistress Darla, Maddy answered meekly. Think, my little lily-white pain-slut. Plan more than one step ahead of your feet. Why would YOU need a fire out here next to the lake? To stay warm? answered Maddy. Its a little cool out here, but youre almost sweating from the work of gathering up that wood. You dont need it to stay warm... unless you get really cold. No! Maddy exclaimed, suddenly realizing what Darla intended. That lake is fed by mountain streams. It would be cold in the middle of the summer. Her eyes were wide and her voice was shaking slightly as she begged, Please dont make me go into the water, Mistress Darla. Someone, Darla said forcefully, has to go out and detach the two lines that separate the swimming area into three sections. Then someone has to hold onto the main float line while it is reeled in so it doesnt tangle. She pointed to Maddy with her crop. That someone is you. She then laughed and said, And yes, that water is damn near freezing. But it isnt very deep. You can probably walk all the way across it now that it is almost at winter depth. But just to be safe, and because a good Mistress like myself should be concerned with the safety of her slaves, you are going to be wearing a life jacket and a safety line in case you get too cold or something like that. Please, Mistress Darla, Maddy whined. I dont like cold water. Couldnt we just pull the float lines in and then reel them up? Darla didnt say anything, but instead reached into her duffle bag and retrieved the shock stick that she had demonstrated to Maddy the day before. Maddy stood and quivered silently in front of her Mistress for a moment, but finally bowed her head and said softly, Yes, Mistress Darla. Maddy put on the life jacket and Darla led her down to the edge of the water where sat a small trailer with a large metal reel mounted on it. Darla explained, It is very simple. You wade out to the main float line and detach the separator section. Then you hang on to it and I will reel you back to shore as I wind up the float line on this reel. After we finish with that one, we move the reel over to the other segment and you go back into the water for the second section. Darla ran her hand over Maddys head, almost like she were petting a dog. After that you can go over and warm yourself up by the fire before we bring in the main section. You got that? Yes, Mistress Darla, Maddy replied, But... But what?! Darla snapped. May I put more wood on the fire first, Mistress Darla? Maddy begged. Otherwise it might be burned down too low by the time weve finished. Darla laughed, OK, lily, you can put more wood on the fire. And stack a couple more pieces next to the fire ring so you can build it up again when you need it. She petted Maddys head once again and said, See, you are starting to think ahead. Youre learning. A few minutes later, the fire was heaped high and several logs were stacked nearby. Lets go, ordered Darla, and Maddy began wading out into the water. She shrieked slightly from the cold as she first stepped into the water and continued to yelp and gasp with each step as she slowly waded out to the main float line that marked the swimming area. The water was not quite waist deep, but as she walked, the icy liquid splashed against her sex, causing her to both yelp and moan. My God, Darla yelled from the shore, even this is turning you on. I should have called you insatiable rather than lily. Maddy was shivering slightly when Darla finished reeling her back to the shore. Get the next one and then you can warm up by the fire, Darla said as she and Maddy pulled the reel trailer over to the next segment. This time Maddy did not yelp quite as much as she waded into the water, but because the water was deeper, more of her body was in the icy water and she was shivering continuously by the time she had disconnected the line and almost violently by the time Darla had her reeled back onto the shore. Take off the life jacket and get over by the fire, Darla said. Thank you, Mistress Darla, Maddy chattered out as she scampered over to kneel next to the fire. Soon she was no longer shivering as she slowly turned in the sand on her knees to allow the warmth of the fire to penetrate her body. I will let you say when you are ready, Darla said as Maddy relaxed and stopped shivering. Several minutes later Maddy said, Im ready, Mistress Darla. May I build up the fire again before going back into the water? Of course, Darla answered and Maddy responded with an automatic, Thank you, Mistress Darla. This time, Maddy did not have to wade out into the water, but instead had to merely walk around the shore to the other end of the float line, disconnect it, and then allow Darla to reel her across the lake as she wound up the line. The disadvantage to this was that it pulled Maddy on her stomach through deeper water with the result that she was almost totally immersed in the water. Consequently, she was once again shivering violently as she was reeled up onto the shore and scampered over to the fire as soon as Darla gave her permission. Again, she knelt as close to the fire as possible as she warmed her body. But this time, as she began to relax, she spread her legs slightly and slipped one hand into her slit. The other hand was rubbing her breast and tweaking her nipple. She looked over at Darla and said hopefully, May I, Mistress? May I, please? Darla laughed a deep laugh and answered, OK, lily, you may cum. It is your reward for doing a good job. In fact, you can cum as many times as you want in the next thirty minutes. Thank you, Mistress, Maddy groaned as her hand went deeper into her cunt. She continued to stroke herself for several minutes until she finally gasped out in orgasm, then she sat on her knees facing the fire with her legs very wide and continued to stroke herself softly for the rest of the half hour. Time to go back to the cabin, Darla finally said. Shovel some sand over that fire to make sure it is smothered and then put your collar and leash back on. Yes, Mistress Darla, Maddy responded. A few minutes later they were retracing their steps back to the cabin. When they got there, Darla told Maddy, You clean yourself up and then fix us some lunch. After lunch you can have an hour for whatever you want to do as long as you dont cum. Yes, Mistress Darla. *** Darla spent the hour after lunch relaxing, almost napping, on the bed. Maddy spent the time kneeling in front of the fire. Her knees were widely spread, as they had been on the beach, and she was slowly stroking her body and occasionally running her hand through her slit. Remember, you dont cum unless I allow it! Darla barked from the bed when Maddy began to moan softly. Maddy didnt answer, but instead closed her eyes and slowed her hands and fingers so that they were barely moving. At the end of the hour, Darla announced, Time to do a favor for W, and then took her suitcase out of the closet and placed it on the bed. Lets see what we have in the goodie box, shall we? Darla muttered as she began pulling items out of the case. Get your white ass over here, she barked loudly and Maddy quickly jumped to her feet and hurried over to Darlas side. Maddys eyes widened slightly as she caught sight of the very shiny, somewhat large, metal bikini that Darla was holding. You know what this is? Darla asked as she approached. I think its a chastity belt, answered Maddy. Ive seen pictures on line. She paused as she looked more closely at what Darla was holding. But it seems a little larger and theres something strange about the cups. There is something strange about this whole device, Darla replied with a laugh. Thats because it is much more than just a chastity belt. She held up the two pieces in her hand and said, This is a Model 37, Programmable Edging Teaser, which will be marketed as the PET 37. According to W, it is capable of taking you to the very edge and keeping you there for days. But we are going to primarily be testing its manual override mode this afternoon. She handed what was apparently the bottoms of the device to Maddy and ordered, Put this on. She then laughed and said, It says to be sure to lubricate the probes to insure easy entry, but I think you have more than enough lubricant already flowing. Just smear a little of that back onto your asshole so the anal plug slides in a little easier. Maddy squatted down slightly and pushed her hand through her slit and back over her rosebud. Her fingers were slick with her cunt juices and easily entered her ass. After repeating that action several times, she pulled the metal bikini up over her legs until the two dildos were just touching her cunt and asshole. What are you waiting for? snapped Darla. Shove it in! Maddy did so with a slight gasp. Sorry, Mistress, she said. Theyre cold. As she was slipping her arms through the metal bands which supported the top piece, Darla came up behind her and pulled the waistband of the bottoms together tightly. A soft click indicated that she had somehow locked it in place. A moment later, the top was also squeezed shut and locked in place. Then Maddy felt Darlas fingers grasp the bottoms as if she were connecting something, which is exactly what she was doing. The batteries in the dildos powered the entire system and a small cable connected the bottoms to the tops. Hows that feel? Darla asked. OK, I guess, Maddy replied. Then after a short paused added, Mistress Darla. Darla held up a remote control and explained, This controls the PET. The bottoms work about as you would imagine. The dildos can vibrate... She pressed a button on the control and Maddy moaned slightly. ... or move... Another button was pressed and Maddys moan increased in volume. ... or deliver a shock from mild and stimulating to severe and painful. Two more button presses caused Maddy to once again moan and then shriek in pain. And of course, Darla said with a chuckle, all of those functions can be programed by the remote or by any smart device. She held up the remote so Maddy could see it clearly. But there are several devices on the market that can do all of that, she continued. What makes the PET 37 unique is the automatic programming which senses a womans state of arousal and automatically does what is necessary to take you to the very edge without ever allowing you to cum. She laughed her deep laugh and touched another button on the remote. And that is only the bottoms. The top is absolutely unique in what it can do. Maddy gasped as something that felt like small rollers suddenly turned very slightly and pulled at her nipples. There are two manipulator bars on the end of each bra cup, Darla said as she tapped her finger lightly against one of the metal cups that covered Maddys breasts. They can turn slightly to pull on your little tittie tips like they are now. Darla pressed a button. Or they can really stretch out those nubs. Maddy squeaked as the device pulled painfully at her nipples. They also move slightly side to side, sort of like someone rolling your nipple between their fingers. Darla pressed another button and then asked, Does that feel like someones finger playing with your nipple. Maddy gasped slightly and answered, Yes, Mistress Darla. It is almost like someone is tweaking my nipples with their fingers. Good, Darla replied. Then its time for us to go for another walk. Maddys collar was still around her neck, so all Darla had to do was attach the leash and pull Maddy toward the door. As they started up the path, Maddy stopped suddenly and gave a groaning intake of breath. Ah, yes, Darla said. It will be in automatic mode as we walk. I will switch it over to manual when we get to Echo Peak. Darla walked quickly up that path with Maddy following behind her, struggling against the continuous arousal of the PET 37 as she walked. Occasionally, Maddy would yelp loudly as the PET shocked her cunt, ass or breasts to bring her back from the brink of an orgasm. Once, after the manipulator bars in the breast cups pressed together to squeeze her nipples painfully, Maddy whined softly, This isnt fair. No this isnt fair, Darla replied with an overly exaggerated emphasis on the word fair. Fair is where you win blue ribbons for pigs and pies. She snorted and continued, This is life... your life as my little lily-white pain-slut slave! Yes, Mistress Darla, Maddy replied in what she hoped was a very obedient tone of voice. The path went through the birch stand where Darla had tied Maddy only the day before and continued winding its way up the mountain until it ended at a large, flat area on one side of the mountain near the top. This is Echo Peak, Darla announced. That cliff behind us and the valley in front of us work together to create echos. She then yelled, Hello! out toward the valley below them. Hello, hello, hello, hello... echoed back. You can hear that for sure back in camp, maybe even in town, she said with a smile. And luckily for you, you dont even have to be standing right at the edge. Darla pulled Maddy back from the steep dropoff to the back edge of the flat area against a sheer rock wall and once again yelled, Hello! If anything, the returning echo was louder than when Darla had yelled while standing right at the edge of the cliff. Darla pointed to the ground and said, You are going to stand here by the wall, while I stand over in the center of this ledge and see what echoes we can create. She paused a moment and then ordered loudly, Present yourself! Maddy looked at her blankly for just a second before remembering and putting her body into the position which Darla had specified. Her hands were on her head with her elbows pulled back; her back was very straight; and her feet were spread a little more than shoulder width apart. A little slow on the uptake, lily, but I wont punish you this time, Darla said softly. I think the PET has you a little distracted. Darla pressed several buttons on the remote and smiled. Then she said, But you are about to become a lot more distracted. Maddys eyes opened wide and she gasped loudly as the vibrators in both the dildo and the anal plug sprang to life. In the quiet of the mountaintop, it almost sounded like two angry wasps buzzing around her. Then the dildo began to pump and squirm inside of her. Ahhhh she groaned out, and Darla said sharply, Remember, slave, you may not cum until I say you can. Maddys only response was another intense moan. She then gave what sounded like a combination of a grunt and a moan as the nipple stimulators began moving. The small rods holding her nipples squeezed slightly tighter and then began rolling in and out and moving from side to side at the same time. The effect was as if someone were rolling her nipple between their fingers. Her legs were starting to quiver and her voice was becoming a series of low grunts, Uh, uh, uh, uh, that were in time with the thrusting of the dildo within her. Those thrusts were synchronized with the movements of the nipple rods, so it was difficult to know whether it was the stimulation to her cunt or her breasts that was exciting her the most. Her eyes were growing wider and wider. Her legs and her entire body were beginning to shake. She was right on the verge of a powerful orgasm when suddenly Darla pointed the remote at her and pushed one of the large buttons near the top of the device. Maddys scream echoed through the mountains, AIEEE! AIEEe!, AIEee, AIeee, Aieee, aieee.... Im sure they heard that one in camp, Darla said with a laugh. Maddy was now on her knees on the hard ground. Present yourself! Darla commanded, and Maddy struggled to rise and get into the proper position. Darla said nothing, but pushed a different button on the remote and the stimulation of the dildos and the nipple bars began once more. Again, she waited until Maddy was right at the brink of orgasm before unleashing the electrical torment that pulled Maddy away from that desired climax and release. This time the scream was not quite as loud, but it still echoed through the valley. The third time the scream was even less loud, and the fourth time there was barely an echo. Interesting, Darla said quietly as she once again activated the dildos and the nipple bars. Its starting to get late, she observed. Then she walked up directly in front of Maddy and said, This time you may cum... when I tell you to. There will be no shocks, just pleasure. Soon, Maddy as again shaking and quivering as the PET 37 drove her higher and higher. Hold it off! Hold it off! Darla commanded. Maddy was now wailing continuously as if exerting a tremendous amount of effort for some important task. Please, she said weakly. Please, let me cum. I cant hold it back any longer. In response, Darla held up her hand with her fingers spread. On the count of five, she said and then began closing the digits of her hand one at a time starting with her thumb. Maddys wailing grew louder and louder as the pinkie, then the ring finger, then the middle finger closed. When the pointer finger finally closed, a new scream echoed through the valley. This time it was not an Aieee! of pain, but rather an Aaaaahhhhh! of orgasm that reverberated from the adjacent peaks. That one, said Darla, Im sure they heard in town. Maddy was now on her back on the hard ground, her body thrashing and convulsing in one of the most intense orgasms she had ever experienced. Time to go back to the cabin and clean up for our closing banquet, said Darla softly. As Maddy wobbled to her feet and held out her leash to her Mistress, Darla said, Im setting this on level one for the rest of the evening. Then Darla took the leash and led her back to the cabin. W says this is totally waterproof, Darla said when they got back, but Im taking it off of you so you can shower and wash the dust and stink off yourself. Besides, I want to put it in its charger for a while so it will be at full power for tonight and tomorrow. An hour later, they began walking back to the main camp. Darla was wearing her jeans and a camp shirt. Maddy was wearing a loose-fitting dress and sandals. It looked a little inadequate for the evening chill, but not so much as to cause a great deal of notice. Besides, it set her apart as someone above the others. When they got to the main lodge, the rest of the office was already gathered. There was a roaring fire in the lodges huge fireplace and everyone was talking loudly. When Darla and Maddy entered the room, everything suddenly became quiet. Dont worry, Darla said loudly. Things have changed. Miss B is now just Miss Birch. She will be a good manager from now on. She laughed slightly and added, And Jessie tells me you are no longer a bunch of squabbling children. Despite Darlas assurances, the room remained quiet until everyone was directed to go through the serving area to pick up their meals. Once the people were again seated and eating, the noise of conversation slowly began to again fill the room. After everyone had eaten and the plates and table service returned to the kitchen, Jessie stood up at the head table and said. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have reached the end of this experience. It is time to look back and see how we each have changed. We are going to go around the room and each of you will say what the most important change has been in this weekend. Most of the people said something like, I learned better ways to communicate with my fellow employees and how to better handle minor conflicts. Twila said that she had not realized how much the rest of the office appreciated what she did for them. Ramones comments were the most surprising. He stood very nervously and said, I never realized that what I thought were funny comments were being taken as sexual attacks. Im sorry if I upset any of you. If I say something I shouldnt in the future, just tell me. Eventually, Ill figure out what is OK and what isnt. As Ramone was speaking, Darla looked over at Maddy and raised her eyebrows. Maddy just lowered her eyes in response. When everyone had finished, Darla stood to speak. I am going to tell you all the absolute truth, she began. The jerks in upper management thought this weekend would be a failure and that nothing could turn our office around. In fact, they were going to use the failure of this weekend to fire me, Miss Birch, and about half of you. But you have shown them and yourself that you can change. All we have to do now is go back and put these changes to work, and your jobs and mine are secure. There was a huge round of applause, but then Twila raised her hand. Darla, she said, that is all fine and good, but in our discussions here it became very apparent that a lot of the problem is from the top... yes, I mean Miss Birch. She wasnt here with us. Most of us are afraid that when we go back, she will still be the same and all of this will be for nothing. Good point! Darla said emphatically. And two things have changed that you dont know about yet. One, I am calling most of the shots from now on. You all know that I am fair and know what I am doing. There was a murmuring of approval to Darlas comment. And two, from now on I control The Mad Bitch, not the other way around. There was a large, collective gasp at the public use of the name by which almost everyone in the office privately referred to Maddy. How can we be sure of that? asked someone from the back of the room. Darla turned to Maddy who was seated next to her and ordered in a loud voice, Present yourself! Maddy jumped to her feet and in one, smooth motion dragged her dress over her head and placed her hands on the top of her head. The glow of the fire in the fireplace reflected from the bright metal PET 37. No one must ever know of this! Darla said firmly. If this becomes known, it all falls apart. But The Mad Bitch is dead. Meet my new slave, lily. Maddys face colored a very deep red as the room began applauding and screaming. When things returned to relative quiet, Darla said loudly, You will tell no one of this! You will call her Miss Birch or Miss B. She looked around the room and rapidly made eye contact with each person there before continuing, You will treat her with respect or you will answer to me! Amanda Birch is still your boss! Then she smiled and finished with, But if you have questions or need something done, you come to me! The room again erupted in applause and Darla turned to Maddy and said, Put your dress back on and sit down. Jessie then stood and announced that the last item of business for the night was a group picture and that everyone should stand behind the head table. After the picture, everyone was told that they could remain at the lodge for snacks or return to their cabins. Most stayed until late in the evening. Darla and Maddy also stayed. Many people came up to speak with Darla. They acknowledged Maddy sitting next to her on the couch, but their conversation was with Darla. It would have been difficult to have a conversation with Maddy anyway. Her eyes seemed almost glazed over, and she periodically took deep intakes of breath. Her face was flushed and at times she held her arms very tightly together. It was almost as if she were on the brink of orgasm and was struggling not to climax in public which is exactly what was going on. The next day, Maddy wore the same dress and the same expression on her face as they traveled home. Darla once again sat up front in the seat across from the driver where the leader of the group should sit. Maddy sat alone, moaning and quivering, in the back of the bus. *** Just before Christmas, Maddy was moved up into a supervisory position that had opened up due to a retirement. Her boss made the announcement to the office and added, You know, a couple month ago, I was ready to fire her and about half of this office. And James over in acquisitions was ready to sell off that camp. But now you are the most productive and efficient office in the company. And there is a backlog of clients waiting to go through the wilderness turnaround experience. He then turned to Darla and said, And Jessie says that the secret to turning around an office like this is to talk to the second in command. Im making sure that you stay with Amanda Birch from now on. He laughed slightly, Besides, Maddy often says that she wouldnt know what to do unless you told her. I just give her some suggestions once in a while, Darla replied. Its not like Im the master and shes the slave taking orders. The supervisor said something else, but it was drowned out by the laughter of the entire office. Finally he just shook his head and said, Things really have changed around here, havent they? That they have, Mr. Arnold, Darla said. That they have. *** Epilogue (A section nobody reads that wraps up the loose ends in the story.) Six years later Amanda Jo Birch was named a vice-president of the company. Darla Lewis was still her administrative assistant. Maddys rise to such a level was the subject of several articles in well-known magazines and more than a few segments on morning news shows. There were also several articles about Darla. One of which was entitled, The Power Behind the Throne. Darla, herself, became a news story for a short while after the release of a book entitled,Behind Every Powerful Woman Is An Even More Powerful Secretary. The book was written under the pseudonym, Sara DeWille, and the cover of the book showed a drawing of a black woman of Darlas approximate size and shape standing on her desk in full dominatrix attire holding a black leather whip in her hand. An interviewer asked her whether she was, in fact, the basis for that book. She laughed and replied, You will have to ask Sara that question. Only she knows for sure. No one ever asked Sara because no one knew who she was. The book had been written anonymously and all royalties went to a scholarship fund for black female business management students. Those few who recognized that Sara DeWille was an anagram of Darla Lewis apparently kept that information to themselves. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Olive Oyly by The Technician Non-consensual, Public Bondage, Public Humiliation, Public Shaving, Naked in Public, Public Sex, Public Spanking, Public Threesome, Mouth to Ass, Public Anal, Mouth to Cunt, Masturbation, Pain Slut = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Olivia's alter ego Oyly is released in a public performance. Olivia Franklin awakes to find herself in a strange theater where she is forced to participate in an erotic performance involving humiliation, spanking, masturbation, and several other interesting sexual practices. At the end of the performance she is called upon to make what is perhaps the most important decision of her life. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2017 by The Technician ( [email protected] ). Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Olivia Franklin woke up very, very slowly, which was unusual for her. Normally she would snap awake each morning as if a switch had been thrown. But this morning she was having trouble waking up. Her head seemed filled with fog and she was only dimly aware of her surroundings. Even so, something didn't feel right. For one thing, she wasn't in her own bed. That she was sure of because the mattress beneath her, if you could call it that, was much too hard. And the sheets were rough, almost as if they were made out of heavy denim or canvas. Perhaps they weren't sheets at all and she was laying on some sort of thin pad. She shifted her shoulder back and forth. She could feel the rough canvas move against her back. There was nothing between her back and the pad! Wiggling her hips told her the same about her ass. She wasn't wearing one of her teddys or even a T-shirt and panties. She was naked! The cool draft across her body told her that there was also no sheet covering her. She was more than naked. She was naked and exposed! She never slept like that. She wasn't in her own apartment either. The room was dark. Her bedroom had large windows which let the sun in early each morning and the glow of the city lights at night. Regardless of what time of day it actually was, her bedroom would not be dark. She was not in her own bed and not in her own bedroom. Something also seemed to be wrong with her arms and legs. They didn't want to move. It was as if she were tied to the corners of this strange bed she was in. Maybe she just needed to wake up more. "Wake up Olivia," she started repeating silently to herself. "Wake up. It's time to wake up." She could feel herself coming further awake. She tried again to move her arms, but then she felt the rope in her left hand... and in her right hand... and around both of her ankles. She was now totally awake. She couldn't move because she was actually tied to the corners of the bed. No, not the corners of the bed. In the dimness she could make out what looked like a thick wooden frame surrounding the pad or mattress or whatever. She was tied to the corners of that frame. She was lying naked on some sort of rough pad, tied tightly to some sort of frame. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a muffled, "Hmmmpff." Not only was she bound, she was gagged. A voice called to her. It was a male voice. "Come on Olive Oyly," it said. "Wakey, wakey." She must be dreaming. No one called her "Olive Oyly." No one knew about that name for herself. Olive Oyly existed only in her fantasies. Olive Oyly was the girl that inhabited her masturbation fantasies. Oyly was what she was when she slicked herself up with oil and lay on the plastic sheets on her bed with several of her favorite toys. When she was Oyly, men would do nasty things to her and with her. They would make her wear that jeweled butt plug and then make her show her ass to everyone as they dragged her naked through the town. Oyly would let them do all this because Oyly was a pain slut who got off on humiliation and bondage and pain. Except no one ever really tied Oyly up, or paraded her naked through the town streets, or inflicted pain on her in any way. Because Oyly existed only in her imagination. She had to be dreaming. This had to be some sort of very strange nightmare. "Wake up!" she tried to scream at herself through her gag. "Wake up!" The room brightened slightly, but somehow still remained dark. She could see lights shining down on her, but there was still nothing but shadows and silhouettes. It was as if she were looking out through a black fog which clouded her vision. "Maybe I should removed the blindfold," the voice said. A few moments later, a hand began unwinding layers of black gauze from her eyes. "I really shouldn't call this a blindfold," he said with slight laugh. "It doesn't blind you, it just makes it very difficult for you to see. It is more of a shade-fold." He laughed at his own joke as Olivia blinked at the brightness that now assailed her eyes. She was definitely not in her own bed nor in her own bedroom. She was on platform on a stage with bright stage lights shining down on her. "She doesn't seem to know what happened," the voice said. Behind him there was a sound of laughter a lot of laughter. It sounded like hundreds maybe thousands of people were laughing. Olivia tried to lift her head to look around, but felt a tug on her scalp as if her hair were tied to the top of the bed. Her quick glimpse before the pain forced her to fall back onto the pad told her that there was, indeed, an audience in front of the stage. In that brief glance, she could see rows upon rows of men and women sitting as if waiting for the beginning of a Broadway show. She struggled against the ropes which bound her tightly to the bed. Her mind was racing. Where could she be? How did she get her? "What is the last thing you remember?" the voice asked as someone removed the gag from her mouth. She took a deep breath. She remembered being at work yesterday. Her boss, Mister Abernathy, had been his usual asshole self. He was young, and blond and well-built, but thought he was God's gift to all women. That was bad enough, but then Ellen the woman who was supposed to relieve her at lunch hadn't shown up, so she ended up having to eat lunch at her receptionist's desk with people coming into the office or sitting in the lobby waiting... and watching her eat. Olivia couldn't stand to have people watch her eat. There was no way she could forget that. She particularly remembered a young black couple. The man wasn't too bad, but the woman had been all smart and angry from the instant they walked in the front door. Something had delayed their appointment and they both sat staring angrily at her as she tried to eat her lunch. She also couldn't forget that slimy jerk from sales, Dave Wilcox, who stopped by mid-afternoon to ask for a date. He asked her out at least once a week. If he wasn't such a jerk and if his personal hygiene wasn't so bad she wouldn't have minded. She still would have said no, but she wouldn't have minded so much that he asked her to begin with. There wasn't much to remember about the rest of the afternoon. It was the usual, boring stuff. She spent most of the afternoon watching the clouds move in from Lake Michigan and cover the Chicago skyline. The drive home was routine... except... except... except something that she couldn't quite remember. She could remember that she was on I-55. Traffic was suddenly stopping. She could hear the dull thump of cars hitting each other. Everything was happening so fast. There was a huge column of smoke and flames from the center of the road. People were abandoning their cars and running. A young woman carrying a baby and pulling a small child ran across the road in front of her. There was no place to go and no time to stop. Her only choices were to hit the running woman or swerve into the line of stopped cars in the center lane. The airbag slammed against her face and then quickly deflated. She knew she was hurt, but wasn't sure how bad. The door wouldn't open or maybe she didn't have the strength to push it open. There was a very loud noise and she looked out of her shattered windshield to see an extremely bright, yellow light heading directly toward her. The windshield seemed to dissolve in front of her as the light and the intense heat overwhelmed her car. And then... and then... and then she woke up here. "I'm dead, aren't I?" she asked. "Afraid so," the man said with a smile. "So now we get to play with you for a while..." he laughed a very deep laugh and added, "... a very long while." "Oh, God!," she screamed. "I'm in Hell, aren't I?" "I'm afraid I can't answer that question right now, Olive Oyly" the man answered. "Or should I call you Oyly'?" Olivia thrashed against her bonds trying to pull herself free. The man reached down and stroked her face. "Does Oyly really want to get away?" he asked in a mocking voice. "Isn't this exactly what Oyly has always wanted?.. a chance to be humiliated and degraded in front of a large crowd of people?" She thrashed again, and then suddenly her muscles went rigid as she felt the familiar tingling welling up between her legs. "Noooooo!" she cried out. "Noooooo. I don't want this." The man laughed and let his hand continue to slide down Olivia's body. She inhaled sharply as his fingers passed between her breasts. She gasped as he twirled the tips of his fingers around her navel. She moaned as those fingers slid over her clit and dipped into her slit. "Olivia's mind says no," the man said as he held his glistening hand in front of her face. "But Oyly's body says yes." He laughed again and the audience joined in his laughter. "Oyly wants this," he said with a wide smile, "So I guess Olivia is just going to have to go along for the ride." With that he turned to face the rows of people sitting in the audience and shouted out, "Let the show begin!" Olivia felt a tug on her head and arms. The frame holding her in place was moving. It was lifting up and dragging her to a standing position. As the frame became upright, Olivia felt her feet slide to the base of the frame, increasing the tension on her head and arms. There was a noise and the bed slid away from her leaving the frame hanging in the air. A "thunk!" followed as the frame set down noisily on the stage. The man stepped up in front of her and again slid his hand down the length of her body. "I think we need to let Oyly come out to play," he said. "Don't you, Olivia?" Her mind raced thinking about what he could mean. Then her eyes went wide and she once again thrashed in her restraints. She knew what he meant! But how could he know? She had done that only once or twice or maybe three times but only when she was about half-drunk after a full bottle of wine. Those times, before she started playtime on the bed, she had stood in front of the big mirror in the bathroom and said aloud to herself, "Time to let Oyly come out and play." Surely he couldn't mean that! Two stagehands dressed in all black pushed a small cart onto the stage. Their heads must have been swathed in black gauze or something because it wasn't possible to see their faces. On the cart was a large bowl of what appeared to be steaming hot water. Next to it was an old fashioned shaving cup and brush. "Who should we get to lather her up?" the MC asked. "It should probably be someone who knows about personal hygiene." He laughed again and dropped his voice an octave. "So we won't ask that type of person. Instead..." His voice came back to normal but was now very, very loud. "Dave Wilcox come on down!!!" "Noooo," Olivia wailed, "anyone but him!" The MC leaned in close to her and said very softly, "You wanted humiliation, didn't you? You are trembling inside at the thought of him touching your body, aren't you? Your cunt is dripping from having all of these people watch you be humiliated isn't it? Oyly is enjoying herself very much, isn't she?" "Noooo, no, no, no, no," Olivia mumbled softly, but he was right. She hated all of this, but at the same time her body was responding just like it did when she let Oyly out to play in her bedroom. The only difference was that now all of this was real. She watched as David stood sloshing the brush through the cup, stirring up foam. She felt the hot lather on her skin as he began running the brush in small circles throughout her crotch and up onto her belly. He seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time lathering up her clit. Perhaps that was because she bucked and moaned each time the warm, soft, slippery brush slid over that nub of passion. After what seemed like ten or fifteen minutes of slathering during which Oyly cried out twice with mini-orgasms, he set the shaving mug back on the cart and picked up a straight razor. There was a wide leather strop hanging from the cart and he rapidly slapped the razor up and down on the strop making sure it was sharp. "You need to hold very still for this," he said in that irritating, whiny voice of his, "or else I might cut you." Olivia just turned her head upward and closed her eyes. There was nothing she could do to stop him. She heard him laughing softly and she could feel the razor scraping along her skin, but the pull of the razor itself as it cut her bush was very light. She found herself thinking, "He must have done this before." Then she said aloud, "This is crazy. This can't be happening!" "Stay still," the voice of the MC boomed out. "You don't want cuts down there with everything else that is yet to be done tonight." "Besides," Dave said, "if I cut you, I don't get to fuck you." That caused Olivia to buck furiously, but the slimy jerk from sales had a firm grip on her labia. He pulled it downward tightly so he could scrape the lather and hair from the edges of her slit. "One more stroke," he said softly as he let go and reached for her other pussy lip. A moment later, he said proudly, "All done and not even a single nick." The MC bent in to examine Olivia's body more closely as Dave used a rough towel to wipe excess shaving lather from between her legs. "Nice job, Mister Wilcox," he said. "You have earned first crack at her." "No, no, no, no, no," she cried out, but there was nothing she could do. She stared in horror as he took off his clothing and dropped it on the stage. Then he approached her and bent his knees slightly to lower himself so that the head of his raging hard penis could be aligned with her slick opening. "This can't be happening," she said softly as she felt him enter her. Her mind wanted to shut out everything that was happening, but her body began bouncing on Dave's prick as he straightened his legs and forced himself fully inside her. Soon she was again crying out, "No, no, no," but each "No" was in time with her downward thrusts as she bounced on Dave's quite impressive penis. After several minutes, her body began shaking and she cried out a long drawn out "Nooooooooooooooo!" as she went into a full-blown orgasm. Dave countered her cry with a loud, "Yeeeessssss!" as he erupted within her. Dave lowered himself so that he could pull out of her as she hung almost senseless in her bonds. "That's one!" the MC cried out as he faced the audience. Then he turned to Olivia and leaned in close to her face. "What does Oyly usually want after a good orgasm?" he asked quietly. Olivia remained silent. "Now, now," he chided. "You know what you do after your first really good orgasm with Mister Rabbit." Olivia shook in her bonds, trying desperately to pull herself loose. She knew what Oyly she usually did after taking herself to orgasm with her rabbit vibrator. She would stand in front of the mirror and give herself twenty or twenty-five smacks with her wooden paddle. "So you do remember," he said jovially. "How many smacks do you think your mother should give you?" Olivia's eyes went wide open. Her mother had caught her masturbating once when she was a senior in high school and demanded that she get over her lap for a spanking. "I'm eighteen years old," she yelled back at her mother. "I don't have to listen to you." "You just set the number of times I'm going to whale that ass of yours," her mother retorted as she grabbed Olivia and pulled her across her lap. Olivia fought furiously, but her mother was stronger and held her in place as she repeatedly smashed a ping-pong paddle into her naked ass. "I am going to keep going until you say you're sorry," her mother said between swats. Her mother stopped counting at thirty, but somewhere around the forty-fifth slap with the paddle, Olivia suddenly stiffened across her lap and cried out "Aaaahhhhaaahhhhaaahhhhaaahhhh!" "You came from getting your ass pounded!" her mother yelled at her as she shoved her off her lap and down onto the floor. "You're a hopeless slut," she screamed at her. I want you out of this house by the end of the week." And so Olivia had moved out on her own. Her parents helped with her rent and such until she had finished high school and then the local junior college, but after that she was truly on her own. The memory of that last spanking at the hands of her mother, however, always remained with her. When she stood in front of her mirror swinging the paddle into her own ass, she was imagining it was her mother who was beating her. Sometimes, she could even see the face of her mother over her shoulder as she did those final strokes before the pain drove her into orgasm. "How many is it going to take to make your slut ass pop?" her mother said sarcastically as she stepped up behind her. Olivia could see that she was holding a thick wooden paddle in her hands. It was about three feet long and four inches wide and was made of two-inch thick oak. One side was smooth and polished. The other had an intricate pattern cut into it. In other words, it was an exact duplicate of the paddle Olivia kept hidden under her bathroom sink. Olivia could hear the swish as the paddle swung rapidly through the air. There was a loud "Splat!" as the patterned side of the paddle slammed into her left asscheek. She screamed. Then her mother said sharply, "Count them!" and Olivia sobbed out, "One." "I think the audience needs to see this," the MC said as he signaled for a couple of stagehands to come out onto the stage. Two gauze-swathed figures rushed out onto the stage and grabbed the large frame. Another ran out with a step ladder and climbed up to release cables on the top of the frame. The first two then pushed the frame around so that Olivia was facing the back of the stage. The stagehand with the ladder then went up and re-attached the cables. "What does that say?" the MC boomed as he pointed to the red welt on Olivia's ass. "Slut!" the audience screamed back. "That's right!" he replied loudly. "Each time Oyly's mom smacks her ass with that paddle, it brands her as the slut she truly is." "Nooooo," Olivia said mournfully. She had only used the patterned side of her paddle once or twice because it hurt so much more than the smooth side. And she had never hit herself hard enough to raise a welt that showed what the pattern actually said. But now, thinking about what it said and the fact that everyone could see her butt proclaim that she was a slut, Olivia could feel her body responding to the shame and embarrassment as well as the pain of what was happening. "I said count them," her mother said loudly. Had there actually been another blow delivered? "Two," Olivia sputtered back. There was another loud "Smack!" "Three," Olivia said sharply. And so it continued. Smack after smack. The paddle would strike, Olivia would cry out and then take a loud intake of breath and give the count. Somewhere around forty, the pain began to fade and in its place was a strange pleasure-pain. It still hurt, but it was almost as if someone were thrusting into her rather than beating on her. The cries became throatier, and the intake of breath became longer and louder. Finally, Olivia cried out, "Fifty-twooooooooooooooooooo," and began to buck and thrash in her bonds as an intense orgasm tore through her body. "Slut!" her mother said with disgust in her voice. She threw the paddle down on the floor and walked off the stage. "That's two," the MC boomed and the audience responded with cheers and applause. "I think it's time to let Oyly out of the frame," the MC said cheerfully. Then he leaned in close to Olivia and said, "Don't you agree?" Olivia didn't respond except to groan slightly as the two stagehands returned and began releasing her arms and legs from the restraints. The frame started to move upward and Olivia dangled swinging her arms and kicking her legs and screaming in fright. "I think you forgot something," the MC said with a laugh. The frame lowered back to the floor and the two stagehands returned. One of them reached up above Olivia's head and untied the knots which held her hair. "Wouldn't want to pull out all that beautiful hair, would we?" the MC taunted. With nothing holding her up, Olivia collapsed to the floor of the stage and lay on her back panting. The two stagehands stood on either side of her looking down at her with their strangely blank faces. As she lay there she could hear the people in the audience making loud comments. "Such a slut!" one of them said. Another shouted out, "Insatiable!" A third, a woman, called out, "I wonder if she eats pussy?" Then a very loud male voice called out, "She's so hungry for another orgasm, I'll bet if we left her alone for five minutes, she wouldn't be able to keep her hands off herself. She'll frig herself off right there at the front of the stage with everyone watching." Suddenly everything got very quiet. The MC was looking out at the audience. "I'll take that bet," he said with a big smile. "It would be worth losing just to see what she actually does." The two stagehands each reached down and grabbed an ankle. They then dragged Olivia to stage front at stage center. She was now at the very front of the stage at the middle of the front row. She could feel the heat of the big spotlights as they tightened in on her. One spotlight tightened all the way down so that it was just a very bright circle on her crotch. The two stagehands pushed her feet up almost against her ass and pulled her legs even wider apart. "If you can lay there like that for five minutes without touching yourself," the MC said in his booming voice, "then this is all over." Another stagehand ran out onto the stage with a small table and a large timer clock. He set it up above Olivia's head where she couldn't see it. The MC walked over to the timer. As he pressed the large button on the top of the black box to start the timer, he said, "But if you can't control yourself, then we will finish the program... and maybe even have an encore or two." Olivia could once again hear the people in the audience. Many were making side bets among themselves. One voice, in a very loud whisper, said, "I'll bet she orgasms before the timer runs out." Another voice whispered back just as loudly, "I'll take that bet." A woman's voice from one of the front rows said loudly, "Look at that fountain pouring out of her. She's getting off on all of us staring at her bald beaver." That was followed by laughter from everyone who had heard her everyone, that is, except Olivia, who groaned in embarrassment. Or was it a groan of need as the heat from between her legs began to once again spread throughout her body. "What kind of depraved slut am I?" she asked herself. "Would I really jill myself off in front of all these people?" Her body's answer to her unspoken question was an almost uncontrollable shudder and a sudden feeling of wetness as her sex juices flowed copiously out of her slit and puddled on the floor between her asscheeks. "You're already in Hell," said a voice from the back of her mind. "How much worse can it get?" She felt her arm moving so that her hand was now resting on her stomach. The voice continued, "You're touching yourself already, aren't you? Your fingers are caressing your sensitive tummy area just below your navel, aren't they?" Olivia's body answered with a low moan. "In for a penny, in for a pound," the voice continued. "Go for it!" Olivia wasn't conscious of her movements until the crowd began cheering. Her hand was no longer on her stomach. It was down between her legs sliding up and down in her slit. The crowd's roar intensified as she brought her other hand over to join the first. One hand was making small circles around her engorged clit. The other hand, with the fingers held together to form a wedge, was driving in and out of her cunt. With each hard stab into her cunt, Olivia would cry out, "Ahh!" Soon the crowd was clapping with her as she yelled, "Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!" The MC leaned down so that he could look into Olivia's passion-stressed face. "Look at me!" he ordered loudly and she opened her eyes. "Are you really such a wanton slut that you will take yourself to orgasm in front of hundreds of people?" That question itself drove her over the top as she imagined the shame and humiliation of cumming uncontrollably in front of so many people. "Yessssssssssssssss!" she screamed out. Neither she nor the MC was sure whether or not that was an answer to his question or just a response to having reaching the point of explosion. In either case, the answer to the MC's question was still "Yes!" The MC turned and faced the audience. "That's three!" he yelled. The crowd responded with wild applause. Olivia lay where she was with her legs splayed and her hands firmly on her crotch. One hand was stroking the skin below her navel. The other was clamped firmly on and in her still quivering cunt. "I think it's time for some regular sex," the MC announced. There was a scrapping sound as stagehands pushed a bed onto the stage. This wasn't the same bed in which she awoke. The mattress was soft and there were regular sheets on the bed. After the stagehands put the bed in place, they walked out to the front of the stage and picked up Olivia. One of them threw her over his shoulder like a bag of grain and then flopped her onto the bed. They then arranged her so that she was lying in the middle of the bed face up with her legs spread facing the audience. "The winners of tonight's lottery are already backstage," the MC said loudly, "so let's bring out winner number one!" A tall, blond, naked man walked out onto the stage. It was Victor Abernathy, her boss. He was sporting a tremendous smile and an even more tremendous hard-on. He stopped to flex his muscles for the audience, and, of course, to give them a good view of his massive manhood. "This is just good, old-fashioned, sex," The MC explained. Then he pointed to the bed and said, "She's all yours." Victor nearly jumped onto the bed and almost instantly buried himself balls-deep into Olivia's glistening pussy. As he got onto the bed, she had pulled her feet closer to her body and pushed up to lift herself slightly into the air. That had allowed him to more easily enter her. He began thrusting almost immediately and Olivia found herself slamming her body upward against each of his thrusts. Murmuring could be heard in the audience as various men and women took bets as to how long this young stud would last. Those who bet on the short numbers lost. After four minutes he was still pounding like a pile driver and Olivia was screaming with each heavy slam into her cunt. After six or seven minutes, she was calling out "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh," with each thrust. She was right on the edge, but somehow her body wouldn't take the leap off orgasm mountain until the young man jumped with her. It was at almost ten minutes when the blond stud suddenly rammed into her hard enough to drive her back down to the mattress. He didn't withdraw again, but instead continued to press heavily against her cunt as he let out a deep, bellowing, grunt. Olivia responded by losing control of her body and her mind. Everything was a deep black as intense feelings overwhelmed her. She tried to grab onto Victor with her arms and legs, but nothing was working like it was supposed to. Instead her arms and legs just flailed wildly as she screamed out a low-pitched, continuous, keening wail that rose in pitch and volume until she truly lost consciousness and fell back against the bed. The movement of the bed and the sensations of her boss pulling his prick out of her clenched cunt brought her back to reality in time to hear the MC shout out, "That's four!" Olivia raised herself groggily up from the bed to watch Mister Abernathy as he smugly walked off the stage. "Our next winners are a couple," the MC shouted as a middle-aged man and woman walked out onto the stage. Olivia didn't know the man, but the woman was definitely Ellen. They crawled onto the bed with Olivia and Ellen said sweetly, "Have you ever eaten pussy before?" She smiled and then asked, "More specifically, have you ever eaten pussy while you are getting fucked?" The man pulled Olivia up and helped her turn over onto her hands and knees. Then Ellen pushed all the pillows up to the center of the bed and lay back against them. "You are going to take me to orgasm," Ellen explained, "while my husband, George, takes you from behind." She laughed and said, "He doesn't get to cum, and you don't get to cum until I cum. You understand that!?" George immediately shot back, "Yes, Ma'am!" Olivia merely nodded her head. Ellen smiled at her once again and said, "Then get at it." Olivia crawled around on the bed so her head was between Ellen's legs. She then bent down and took a tentative lap at her slit. "You're starting from a dry well," Ellen said with a laugh. "You're going to have to really prime the pump if you're going to get anything flowing." With that, she reached up and grabbed Olivia's hair so she could pull her down and press her face into her crotch. Olivia began lapping in earnest, trying to push her tongue as far into the woman's slit as possible. "That's a good start," Ellen said. She then called out, "George, get busy!" and the man pulled himself up behind Olivia and pressed his prick against the opening of her cunt. She relaxed slightly. Up to that point, she had been afraid that he was going to dry fuck her ass. As soon as the man's prick was against her pussy lips, Olivia pressed backward to impale herself on his prick. He was nowhere near as large as Victor had been, but entering her from the rear caused his prick to rub against all the right spots inside her. "Remember," said Ellen harshly, "you can't cum until I cum. So you'd better get busy!" Olivia redoubled her lapping efforts and brought one of her hands up to play with the woman's pussy lips near the back. She lowered her mouth over Ellen's clit and sucked on it like it was a nipple. Ellen's gasp and then moan of joy let Olivia know that she was on the right trail. She kept her mouth glued to the woman's clit and sucked and lapped as that pleasure nub began to harden and extend. Her fingers could feel moisture accumulating on the Ellen's labia. She twisted her fingers to open the woman's pussy lips and slowly slid her fingers insides. Ellen's groans and sighs told her that she should continue. From that point on, Olivia kept her mouth on the Ellen's clit and her left hand sliding in and out of her cunt. She found that she was unconsciously synchronizing the thrust of her hand with the thrusts of George's prick slamming into her own pussy. George was starting to grunt and groan with each thrust. It was obvious he couldn't last much longer. Olivia was screaming with her mouth closed as she continued to suck and lap at the Ellen's clit. Then she could feel it. Ellen's cunt was starting to grip her hand and her clit was starting to pulsate slightly. Ellen was close so was Olivia, and even moreso was George. Suddenly the Ellen's cunt clamped down on Olivia's fingers so strongly that it was almost painful. At the same time a strange, salty liquid began squirting into Olivia's mouth. Ellen tilted back her head and screamed no sang a very high-pitched scream. She was obviously having an orgasm. That shrill scream was all George needed to hear and he slammed against Olivia one last time before spurting into her. Olivia didn't know if it was the scream or the feeling of more cum being pumped into her body, but she also went over the top. As she cried out in release, she could vaguely hear the voice of the MC saying, "That's five." The crowd was on its feet clapping and stamping and cheering. The MC was waving his hands, motioning them to sit back down. "I know that the program called for five," he said loudly, "but we had sort of an impromptu encore in the middle of the show." His voice became softer as the crowd quieted. "So," he continued, "we are going to do act five as an encore." Loud applause greeted that announcement. Ellen and George walked off the stage and several stagehands rushed on stage. Each was carrying what looked like a large watering can. "It's time," the MC shouted gleefully, "to really let Oyly come out and play." The stagehands began pouring baby oil all over Olivia and all over the bed. She felt her body began to quiver once again. Her body was now totally in control as her mind watched from the fog. "I am Oyly," she said loudly, rubbing her hands up and down her slick body. "And Oyly has come out to play!" The MC laughed and announced loudly, "And here are Oyly's playmates for today." A black couple walked quickly out onto the stage. Both appeared to be in their late twenties or early thirties and were both very lean and very muscular. Somehow, they seemed familiar to Olivia, but she couldn't remember for sure from where. A large, semi-erect penis bobbed in the air in front of the man. The couple crawled up onto the bed like George and Ellen had done. The black woman took her place on the pillows and asked, "You ever sucked black pussy before?" Then she laughed and said, "Actually, you ain't sucking no black pussy today neither." She flipped over onto her hands and knees and lowered her head so that her ass was raised high and was wide open. "You are going to get me off by tonguing my asshole," she said with a laugh. "If your tongue is long enough you can reach up and fuck me with it, but you gotta do it from behind, so your face is going to be pressed right up against my ass either way." The black woman laughed once again as she wiggled her ass in front of Oyly's face. Meanwhile, the stagehands were busy pouring more baby oil over Oyly and the black couple. She could feel the man behind her rubbing the oil between her asscheeks. After making sure everything was well lubricated on the outside, he stuck one finger up inside her... and then two. "You'd better get busy, sweetcheeks," the black woman said with a sneer, " cause you ain't finished til I'm finished." Oyly put her face closer to the woman's ass and stuck out her tongue. The black asscheeks glistened in front of her. She leaned in closer and touched the black woman's puckered rosebud with the tip of her tongue. "That's it, honey," the woman said. "Now you just need to go deeper and harder." Oyly pushed her tongue against the shiny, black rosebud and jumped back as it opened slightly to receive her. "Your tongue ain't that long, sweetcheeks," the woman called up. "Get your face back down on my ass. I want to feel your cheeks against mine." Oyly couldn't believe she was doing this. She was licking a woman's asshole and hundreds of people were watching her do it. That thought caused her to shudder as bolts of lightning traveled from her crotch to the extremities of her body. "Whatever you're doing," the man behind her said, "keep doing it. It's like you're milking my prick with your asshole." She hadn't even realized that he had entered her. She stuck her tongue as deep into the black woman's rosebud as she could and then began thrusting with it. "Don't forget to spin the rim," the woman said and Orly pulled her tongue back and moved it in circles around the edges of the puckered circle. Then she darted back into the tight sphincter. She tried to bring one of her hands up to massage the woman's slit, but with the man pounding into her from behind that wasn't possible... unless... unless she let her face press tightly into the woman's ass to hold her up. When she lifted her hand off the bed again, she could hear several of the men in the audience whooping. "Go, girl!" one woman shouted. She lifted her other hand. Now her face was the only thing supporting her and that was buried between the cheeks of the black woman's ass. One hand found the woman's slit. The other began to softly massage the woman's clit. "That's cheatin'," the woman said, "but I like it." Oyly began rubbing slightly faster. Her tongue was now darting in and out of her mouth. It would swirl around the black woman's dark moon and then plunge deeply into the opening itself. Each time she could feel the woman's anal sphincter pulse and squeeze as she penetrated her with her tongue. She could now feel her own orgasm boiling within her. She had to hold it back. The black woman was nowhere near the top. She began rubbing faster and harder on the woman's slit and clit. In response, the woman began to grunt and tilt her pelvis in time with the rubbing. The only problem with that was that each time the woman tilted her pelvis forward, she tightened her asscheeks, nearly smothering Oyly in the process. The black woman began to grunt louder. "Oh, yes," she started to say. "Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Oh, yes." Then suddenly she began quaking and shouted out "Oh, Yeeeeessssss!" as she squeezed her asscheeks tightly on Oyly's face. Oyly was almost there herself, but when the black woman began to orgasm, she thought to herself, "What must this look like to people in the audience? I must look like the most perverted slut they have ever seen." She had no more than thought that when her own orgasm exploded within her. And her orgasm triggered the man who was buggering her to also release and slam forward pinning her in place. The three of them were locked together in a giant sweaty mess on the bed as all of them screamed out in the passion of release. Olivia felt herself getting dizzy. Her face was pressed tightly into the black woman's asscheeks and held there by the force of the man rammed into her own ass. She couldn't breathe. The theater was becoming dimmer. The voices were fading away. And then, darkness. When she came to, she was alone on the bed. Well, not exactly alone, but the black couple was gone. So too was the audience. It was just her and the MC, who was sitting on the edge of the bed near her feet. "Will the punishments get worse?" she asked. "What do you mean?" the MC replied. "This can't be heaven," she answered glumly. "I don't think there's kinky sex in Heaven, so I must be in Hell. Will the punishments get worse?" "Did you think all of this was a hellish punishment?" he asked with a slight laugh. "How was it a punishment?" he asked. "Wasn't it everything that your secret self, Olive Oyly, ever wished for? "You mean that this IS heaven?" she asked, her eyes growing very wide. "Did my swerving to avoid that family get me into heaven?" "I'm afraid that you have an incorrect view of the afterlife," he said politely. "Your heroic act of sacrificing yourself to save a mother and her small children was a great thing. You will be praised and remembered for it." He gestured around them, "But such actions have no bearing on the afterlife." He looked at her and smiled slightly. "You are in neither Heaven nor in Hell. You are in a transition area where you become adjusted to your existence in the afterlife." "What do I have to become adjusted to?" she asked. "Primarily the lack of corporeal form," he answered. "What?" she gasped, having no idea what he just said. "No body," he answered quickly. "You have to get used to not having a body. Energies are created during life which continue on after your body is dead, but..." "What are you trying to tell me?" she asked. "We have found," he explained, "that the best way for people to accept giving up all bodily sensations is for them to go through what they imagined as the best possible experience of their life... or perhaps, of their imagination." He smiled again. "Both are possible right after death while you still remember what it is like to feel things with your body." "So all of this was just a memory?" she replied. "Not exactly a memory," he answered, "because none of it has ever occurred. But you did give many others a chance to remember some of the old feelings they, themselves, once had." She continued to look at him blankly. He took a deep breath and said flatly, "It was as real as anything you ever experienced in life, but no, it never really happened." "So what happens now?" she asked. She wasn't sure whether she was excited or scared. "At this point," the MC explained, "you have a choice to make. If you feel you have adjusted to what will be, then it is time for you to go on into eternity. But if..." He patted her leg slightly. "But if you are not yet ready to let go of the feelings and experiences of Earthly life, then you come back here, to the transition area." "How do I do that?" "For each person, it is different," the MC explained. "For you, the choice is which door you walk through when we finish our little chat." He pointed to the back of the theater where the lights of a lobby cast a glow onto the seats. "If you go out the front doors of the theater, you are walking into eternity," he said calmly. "If, on the other hand, you go through that door..." He then pointed to a door alongside the stage at the outer wall which bore a large painted sign, "Backstage." "If you go through that door..." He chuckled lightly. "... let us just say that there will be another performance here tomorrow night." He patted her leg lightly once again and said, "I will leave you here to think about it." *Olivia Franklin woke up very, very slowly, which was unusual for her............ = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 UMPA Eleven http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952 BDSM Boot Camp http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11204 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Dinner and a Show by The Technician Exhibitionist, Public Humiliation, Public Orgasm, Public Spanking, Public Bondage = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A shy exhibitionist is taken to dinner and a show by her husband. Jerry has decided to give his wife, Janet, the special gift she had requested for their fifth anniversary. First a marvelous dinner at their favorite restaurant, and then a very special show that she will remember for a long, long, time. This story is primarily about exhibitionism, but there is an overtone of bondage and some more than consensual spanking action. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2014 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Janet McCarthy is a "shy exhibitionist" and a "closet bondage freak" at least that is how she describes herself on several bondage sites under her user name of Off_Broadway_Barbie. Many of the people who look up her profile laugh, but the descriptions are really very accurate. She truly is a shy exhibitionist. None of her on-line photos ever show her face no matter what else they show, and none are taken anywhere that could be identified with her. Being shy does not mean she is not an exhibitionist. Janet is truly an exhibitionist she is just very shy about it. For example, on their many camping weekends, it is not unusual for her husband Jerry to spend the day fishing while she goes out deep into the woods to "flash the critters" as she calls it. She will walk to a very secluded area and then spend the day walking naked through the woods carrying her clothing or sometimes hiding it behind a tree, walking away and, after going some distance, having to make her way back before being discovered. Janet's favorite outdoor treat is to find an overlook that is visible from a far distant highway and stand there totally unclothed and totally dripping as she imagines all the truckers and tourists looking at her naked body. Actually, from the distances involved, only someone with better than an eagle's eyes or a good set of binoculars would be able to see more than just a slight pink blur among the trees. But since she is doing it for herself and her enjoyment, not for them, it doesn't matter. Whether they can actually see her or not, she still receives the thrill of exhibiting her body to strangers. Janet is also truly a closet bondage freak. She loves being restrained and forced to do things that her strict Baptist upbringing wouldn't allow her to do like enjoy sex and even have an orgasm. Her husband Gerald got a peek into her closet their senior year of college. After many false starts where she put him off or made excuses, they were well on their way to their first-time sex. They were at his apartment with his roommates all gone for the weekend. He had her down to her bra and panties and was just starting to unhook her bra when Janet suddenly pulled away from him and said, "No, I can't do this. I can't do this." She stood up, faced him and said in a trembling voice, "I want to. I really do... but I can't." Jerry's immediate reaction was anger. "You're a damn tease! I never want to see you again!" "No," she sobbed as she burst into tears. "I want to... I really do... I... I... I... just can't." She sniffed and said softly, "... unless you make me." "What!?" he replied. "Are you telling me that you want me to rape you?" "No," she said nervously. "Just tie me up or something so I can't resist you." She then gave him a look that was somewhere between a nervous smile and absolute desperation. "You're serious?" he said. "You really want me to tie you up and fuck you, don't you?" Janet hung her head in shame as she nodded yes. Jerry still wasn't sure, but when he saw a widening wet spot on her panties that threatened to start dripping on the floor, he said, "Just a minute." He came back a moment later carrying a small duffle bag. "This is my goodie bag," he said. "I thought I was going to have to throw it all away and give up on one of my favorite pastimes because I had fallen in love with a preacher's daughter." He lifted a length of soft rope out of the bag, smiled, and said, "But sometimes life gives you the lemonade already mixed and sugared." Jerry looped the rope around Janet's neck and led her to his bedroom. Once there, he secured her spread-eagle on the bed and cut away her panties. Her bra unclasped from the front, so it remained tangled over her arms as he slowly nibbled and teased his way around her body. When she was moaning loudly and thrusting herself upward almost off the bed, he finally entered her. He wished for a moment that he had also gagged her because her screams of passion were loud enough to disturb even his hard-of-hearing, elderly neighbors. Jerry did gag her before driving her to her second, violent and noisy orgasm. When she had finally calmed down from that, he removed the gag and she said softly, "You can untie me now, but lie here with me and hold me... please?" Janet ended up spending the night. In the morning they talked and she explained that she couldn't even masturbate unless she tied herself up first. "I've got a remote control vibrator," she explained, "... that has a timer. I set it to start after half an hour, insert it and then tie myself up. That way, I don't really have any control over what it does to me." Her voice got a little shaky and her face turned slightly red when she said, "And before I can do something especially naughty, like put the vibrator in back rather than in front, I have to punish myself first with a little self-spanking." She then went on to say that she also punished herself for forgetting to wear underwear when she had classes on the fifth floor and knew that people would be able to see up her skirt on the steps. Or when she would accidently forget that the drapes were open in her dorm room and drop the towel as soon as she came back from the shower. Janet and Jerry married two months later immediately following graduation. Because of the hurry, Janet's mother and father assumed she was pregnant. They were pleasantly surprised when nine months later there was still no baby. Once married, Janet no longer had to be tied up in order to have sex, but she found that she was able to let herself go and reach much higher levels of pleasure if Jerry restrained her. She also found that a little spanking foreplay released her even further. Sometimes, as she was walking naked through the woods, she would think of the fact that she would have to tell Jerry to spank her for being so bad. Suddenly she would be gushing between the legs. How do you punish someone for enjoying being spanked?' she asked herself one day as she was standing on the large rock wall of a vista that overlooked a deep valley. She could barely see several hikers on the trail far below. The area was known as a bird watcher's paradise and a flash of sunlight told her that one of them had trained a set of binoculars on her and could probably see her almost clearly. That thought caused juices to run down the inside of her legs, but when the hikers turned to come up to the high trail, her shyness rose to the surface and she hurried back into her clothing and scurried down the opposite path. It was now Jerry and Janet's fifth anniversary. To most of the community, they were a typical, young, married couple. They both had promising careers and were both active in several community organizations, including the local community theater where Jerry was on the board of directors. Jerry had a beautiful voice and a marvelous stage presence, and was often one of the stars in the various performances. He had even directed a couple of performances. Janet, always the shy one, limited herself to bit parts or a place in the chorus. No one suspected any kinkiness at all in their relationship. No one, that is, except John, one of the techies at the theater. John knew Janet and Jerry from college and knew of her self- bondage masturbation sessions. Janet didn't tell him. She didn't intend to ever tell anyone. But then, she didn't intend to roll off the bed during a self-induced orgasm and wedge herself so tightly that she could not free herself. She had a private room in the dorm and possibly could have stayed stuck between her bed and the wall for a long time except that it was fire prevention week and all of the smoke detectors on campus were being tested. John was an engineering student with a work-study job in campus maintenance. Janet was afraid to answer when John knocked on the door and he assumed the room was empty, so he let himself in with his master key. He didn't see her until he was up on his ladder opening the housing of the detector to verify its date of manufacture. He dropped both the cover and his flashlight when he looked down and saw a naked coed trussed up and stuffed between the bed and the wall. John immediately pulled her free and untied her. He was going to call campus police, but she assured him that she had, in fact, done this to herself, so he let her flee to her bathroom while he finished testing the smoke alarm above her bed. She came out of the bathroom moments later wearing a robe, crying, and begging him not to tell anyone. He promised to keep her secret, and to this day he had. But Janet still often blushed when she looked up at the control booth during rehearsals and saw John sitting at the board. And even though it was impossible to see him or anything else during a performance because of the lights shining in her eyes, she still blushed slightly knowing that he was up there watching her on stage. As June approached, Jerry asked her what she wanted for her fifth anniversary. She thought about it all day. At supper that night she said, "We haven't been on a really special date since college. How bout dinner and a show?" Then she added, "But the dinner has to be very special and the show has to be something I will never forget." Jerry answered only, "I'll see what I can do." Two days before their anniversary, Jerry told her that he was going to take her to their favorite restaurant for their anniversary. Afterwards there would be a show that she would remember for the rest of her life. He had one request, however. He wanted her to wear the same black dress that she had worn on their first date... and to wear nothing beneath it. Janet was proud of the fact that she still wore the same dress size that she had in college, but the black dress, itself, was getting almost threadbare. She had often debated throwing it out, and kept it only for the sentimental reason of it being the dress she had worn on their first date. At first she was going to object and say that she had many other dresses that were much newer... and nicer... and sexier, but the thought of reliving that first date, and especially the thought of going to a very formal restaurant wearing nothing but perfume under her dress caused her to feel that familiar wetness between her legs. "OK," she said finally, "but my black dress had better be appropriate for wherever and whatever the show is that follows." Jerry laughed and said, "Oh, don't worry. That black dress is exactly what you should be wearing for this show." *** The day of their anniversary finally arrived. Dinner was perfect. Jerry had arranged everything in advance, and everything was exactly what Janet would have ordered. A tray of oysters on the half-shell arrived at their table shortly after they sat down. The hot sauce, which only Jerry liked, was on the side with a special mild sauce also on the plate. A wine steward brought a bottle of wine to the table and uncorked it for Jerry's approval. "It's her special meal," he said. "Let her say if the wine is acceptable." "Perfect," she said after sniffing the cork and taking a small sip. The waiter filled both their glasses and left the bottle in ice on the table. Her "perfect" applied not only to the wine, but to the entire meal. The melt-in-your-mouth steak was exactly like she wanted it and was smothered in mushrooms in butter sauce with just a hint of onions. Although it wasn't on the menu, Jerry had arranged for chocolate mousse for both of them for dessert just like she had ordered on their first date. The whole meal couldn't have been better. Jerry even dawdled after dinner and talked. Normally, he was very agenda-driven and would be obviously anxious to go immediately on to the next thing, but tonight, he sat calmly and reminisced with her about their first meeting, their first date, and about all the special things about which she fantasized. "It's show time," he finally said quietly. The waitress had already brought the check and returned with the credit card receipt, so there was no reason not to be going. As they walked across the parking lot to the car, Jerry took her arm and slowed her to a stop. "There is one additional thing I want you to wear tonight," he said with a grin. He then handed her a black silk blindfold. "I'll even put it on for you," he added as he turned her slightly so that he could stand behind her. She could see that they were only steps from the car. It was also very unlikely that anyone would see her, so she didn't object. In fact, she murmured, "Whatever you say," as she held it over her eyes and he tied it around her head. It is amazing how much more difficult it is to walk in tall high heels when you can't see the ground. Janet was thankful that she had only a very short way to go to get to the car. She could hear Jerry open the door and then say, "Feel the car with your hands, and get in." As she got in, he put his hand on her hair to ensure that she did not hit the top of her head on the car door. I feel like a prisoner being put into a police car,' she thought to herself. She had never experienced that herself, but she had seen enough cop shows on TV to know that was how the handcuffed suspect was put in the car with the officer's hand on top of his or her head. As she waited for Jerry to go around to the other side of the car to get in, she held her hands together at the wrists imagining that she was handcuffed or bound. She could feel herself getting wetter. It's a good thing I'm wearing a black dress,' she thought to herself. That way a wet spot in the back won't show.' Jerry seemed to be driving all over, making random turns this way and that. Janet was totally disoriented. She was fairly sure that they were still in town, but for all she knew they could be out in the middle of nowhere. Finally, Jerry stopped the car and shut off the engine. He again used his hand to protect her head as he helped her out of the car. After she was standing, he lifted her arms slightly and slipped a loop of rope over her hands. It was a large slipknot and he tightened it quickly. He then brought the rope down between her arms and made two quick circles around the knot loop that held her wrists. Forming her fingers around the long end of the rope as it left her hands, he said, "Hold this. It is your guide leash." He then began leading her away from the car. From the sound and feel, Janet knew that she was walking on concrete. "We're starting up a ramp," he said, and a few steps later, Janet could feel the incline. A dozen steps later, they reached a small landing. Jerry said, "Turning left," and resumed his climb up the ramp. There was something very familiar about this place, but Janet could not place where she might be. A heavy-sounding door squeaked and creaked open and Jerry warned, "Watch for the threshold. It's not very high, but it is wide and slick." Her heels made a metallic-sounding click as she stepped through the door. She knew where she was! It wasn't just the ramp or the wide metal threshold. There is a particular smell to a backstage area at a theater. You can smell rope and paint and makeup and sweat and a thousand other smells that occur together only on stage. She was backstage at the community theater. "We're at the theater," she said. "I didn't know there was a performance tonight." Jerry laughed slightly. "That's because this show is strictly by invitation only," he said, "and you are the special guest star who is going to experience every minute of it." Janet wasn't sure what he meant, but she continued to follow him. Her heels were now making a hollow tapping sound. She was walking across the stage floor. She wasn't sure, but she thought that they were now in the middle of the stage, probably just behind the curtain. She could smell the decades of dust that was trapped in the thick, plush cloth that separated the stage from the audience. "Let's block out this scene," Jerry said as he loosened the rope on her wrists. "It's very easy choreography. All you have to do is stand here and move with the action." He bent her slowly at the waist until she was almost at ninety degrees. She felt her neck come to rest on something soft and thick like lamb's wool. Jerry raised her left arm and set it on something alongside her head that was smooth and cool. It felt like it was a curved segment of leather, perhaps held by a piece of wood. He placed her right arm in a similar leather depression on the other side of her head, and then she felt a slight pressure on her neck and wrists followed by a deep, dull, solid, "clunk." She tried to stand, but her head and wrists were now securely trapped. She was in a stocks of some sort. "What are you doing?" she asked, more out of curiosity than anger or concern. "Is this some sort of participatory performance art?" "No," he answered, "It's a solo performance, and I think it's time for you to be quiet and just experience." She felt a ball gag being pushed into her mouth, then Jerry walked away from her and everything was quiet. She wasn't sure how long she was held there behind the curtain, but she was certain that she could hear an ever-increasing murmur of voices. A large audience was gathering in the theater. Janet had waited nervously backstage before and listened to the pre-performance buzz of the audience. She was pretty good at judging the size of the house by the noise level. This sounded like a full house, or nearly so, and the theater had exactly 299 seats. She knew that number because 300 seats was the magic level where the royalty payments went up on the performances. To keep the costs down, she and Jerry had helped when the theater members removed several seats from the ends of the front row to bring the number back to exactly 299. From the noise level, there had to be at least 275 people out there. Janet could feel her legs shaking in fear. What was Jerry doing? What if they opened the curtain and everyone could see her? The theater was a relatively tight-knit group. And almost everyone in town came to the performances. What if all her neighbors and friends were out there? What if everyone saw her bent over like this locked into a set of stocks? Then she heard Jerry walking across the stage. She knew his walk because, for some reason, he had an uneven stride. She felt a slight puff of air as he walked past her. Then she heard the soft rustle of the curtains as he slipped between them to stand at the front of the stage facing the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly. Suddenly the buzz was gone as the audience quieted for the beginning of the performance. But what performance? I'm the only one on stage,' Janet thought to herself. I have to be the performer. But what am I supposed to do?' "Ladies and gentlemen," Jerry repeated when everything was quiet. "Tonight we have a very special performance. A closet bondage freak will step out into the light and be recognized. A shy exhibitionist will finally get her chance to show the world... ... everything." There was a deafening round of applause and Janet heard the chains which supported the curtain clanking as it slowly opened to reveal her to the audience. She could now hear buzzes of quiet conversations from here and there around the theater as people saw her and attempted to speak to each other in low whispers. The curtains must now be wide open because she could feel the heat of the front spotlights against her skin. The black dress was absorbing the energy from the hot lights and warming rapidly. So was she. She could feel a light sheen of perspiration beginning to form on her brow. Then she felt herself rolling. Evidently the stocks were mounted on one of the scene platforms. There must have been a small ramp leading up to it because she hadn't had to step up as Jerry led her across the stage. Jerry, or someone, was now pushing her slightly forward and turning her so that she was sideways to the audience. "Time to raise or should I say lower the second curtain." Jerry said loudly. Then Janet felt something cold against her shoulder. The movement and the slight noise told her that it was a pair of scissors. The cold feel of the scissors against her skin told her that Jerry was cutting the dress from her body. He cut all the way across the back of the dress at the shoulders and then began lowering the zipper. As soon as the zipper reached her waist, the dress dropped to the floor leaving her naked on stage. Thunderous applause filled the theater. Janet was mortified, but at the same time she could feel her nipples immediately swelling and the juices starting to flow in her cunt. This was going to ruin her in the community, but her body didn't care. This was what she dreamed of when she stood on the high bluffs exposing herself to distant motorists. Showing her body to a large crowd was her secret fantasy. Now, she wasn't fantasizing that they could see her. The applause made it very clear that she had been presented to them in all her glory. She felt the platform being slowly rotated. It stopped as her ass was aligned with the center isle. Jerry reached over and smacked her ass cheek with his hand. Then he ran his fingers through her slit. Evidently he held them up to the audience because he said, "See that shine? Wet as a river." Janet could feel her skin burning in shame, but at the same time the tingle in her breasts and nipples was almost overwhelming. She was rotated again until she faced the audience. She felt fingers at the back of her head and suddenly everything was brilliantly bright. Jerry had removed the blindfold. She squinted out at the crowd, but could see nothing. All of the front lights and footlights were on and all three traveler spots were trained down on her from the light booth balcony, which ran across the back of the theater. Janet could hear several people whispering her name. Evidently there were some who did not recognize her until the blindfold was removed. She did not think it was possible to be more embarrassed... or more turned on, but when she heard her name whispered, she could feel herself turning an even deeper shade of red. She could also feel the cunt slime start to drip from between her pussy lips. "You are being a very naughty girl," Jerry taunted her. "I think you need a little punishment." He started swatting her bottom. One hand was smacking her right cheek and the other was smacking her left. It sounded almost like he was performing on a set of bongo drums. Janet felt herself swaying her ass to meet his hands. She also felt herself climbing higher and higher. Oh NO!' she suddenly thought to herself. I'm going to cum in front of all these people.' That thought, alone, was enough to trigger an overwhelming orgasm. She shrieked and screamed and bucked and writhed in the stocks. Jerry stopped his spanking and began rotating the platform so that she was totally on display to the audience as she rode the waves of passion that were cresting within her. The thought that her bucking, dripping, snatch was turned to the crowd was enough to drive her once again over the edge and trigger a second orgasm. As her moans and cries started to subside, Jerry again rotated her and announced, "Now it's time for a little mutual enjoyment." He leaned down close to Janet's ear and said, "You have already paid the price of admission, so just totally let yourself go." He then began to lightly caress her breasts with one hand while sliding the other through the wetness between her legs. Soon, Janet was again squirming and moaning and moving rapidly upward towards another orgasm. She could feel Jerry positioning himself behind her. He slid easily into her, and as his body touched hers, she realized that he, too, was now naked on the stage. Janet was now directly facing the unseen audience. The brilliant spot and footlights blinded her, but at the same time forced her to acknowledge that everyone could see everything . They were watching Jerry fuck her. It was as if she were having sex with hundreds of people at the same time. That image began to burn more brightly in her mind than the spotlights themselves. Jerry was now slamming violently into her ass as he bottomed with each thrust. He was rapidly approaching climax and his legs were shaking slightly as his muscles prepared for that final moment of ejaculation. Finally he grunted loudly and slammed against her ass a final time. He fell over her back and shuddered as he went off. Janet joined him in his moment of climax, the audience forgotten for the moment as she became one with her husband. After a short time, Jerry again stood up and slowly pulled himself out. Janet moaned slightly as she felt his deflating prick slide out of her cunt. She thought she was hearing thunder, but as her mind cleared from the orgasm, she remembered where she was and realized that what she was hearing was applause. "For an encore tonight," Jerry said as he stepped in front of Janet to address the audience, "we will allow Janet to experience one of her most naughty desires. Of course," he added, "that will mean a more severe punishment." He was walking around behind Janet as he spoke. He patted her on the ass hard enough so that the smack could be heard throughout the theater and said in a chuckle, "But I am going to wait until she is ready before I do that." Janet felt the platform rotating until she was once again facing backstage. Jerry stood in front of her and asked, "What would you like to do for an encore?" He paused a moment and then asked, "Do I fuck your face or your ass?" He knew what she wanted. She didn't really like oral, but anal drove her wild. He knew what she wanted, but he was going to make her say it! He was going to make her ask for it in front of all these people! Janet didn't think it was possible for her to be more embarrassed or more aroused, but her skin was now almost on fire and spunk and cunt juice flowed copiously out of her and dripped onto the platform as she answered softly, "My ass." "Project, Janet." Jerry said loudly. "Speak from the diaphragm so you can be heard." His voice sounded just like it did on those occasions when he directed plays and had to correct or encourage the cast during rehearsals. "Take me in the ass!" Janet heard herself almost shouting. As she heard the force and volume of her own words, it caused her to shudder as a mini-orgasm rippled through her body. "Then let's get you ready," answered Jerry. He walked back around behind Janet and began sliding his fingers up and down her crack. Bent over as she was, she was sure that both her cunt and rosebud were clearly visible to the audience. Jerry thrust his fingers into her dripping pussy. They slid in easily and came out just as easily, with a large scooping of cum and spunk. He began rubbing that slimy mixture up and down her crack, pressing on her sphincter each time his fingers passed her nether opening. Finally, he pushed a single finger into her ass and began pumping in and out. Soon a second finger joined the first, and then a third. Janet could feel her anal ring relaxing to allow him better access. He withdrew his fingers and she could feel the tip of something pressing against her rosebud. As it slid in, Janet recognized it as a butt plug, but it seemed bigger than anything she had ever put up there before. She was stretched to maximum and still it hadn't seated. It was spreading her wider and wider as Jerry continued to force it into her ass. When it finally slid all the way in and her sphincter snapped tightly around the slightly smaller shaft, another mini-orgasm caused her to quiver in the stocks. She could feel herself rising up on tiptoe for some reason, almost as if she were raising her ass to receive Jerry's cock. But that was not going to happen as long as she was stuffed full by that huge plug. "That will keep you stretched while I give you the pain you need to really let yourself go." Jerry said as he wiggled the huge plug lodged securely between her cheeks. Janet wasn't sure what Jerry had in mind, but when she heard the swish of a belt swinging through the air, she knew what was coming. Jerry had used a belt on her only a few times, and only after she had either egged him on for hours or begged him to use it on her. It was after one particularly intense session with the belt that Jerry had told her, "If you want or need the pain, just ask for it. You don't have to try to piss me off just so I will spank you." "Open your eyes," Jerry said in a commanding voice. Janet hadn't realized that she had closed them. When she opened her eyes, he was standing before her swinging a wide, black, leather belt in a small arc. The intense stage lights reflected softly off the black finish. "What do you want?" he asked softly. I can't say that in front of all these people,' she thought to herself. "You have to say it or it ends now," Jerry continued in his soft and soothing voice. He was going to make her say it. She was going to have to ask him to whip her or this would all be over. She didn't want to say it especially in front of an audience, but she didn't want this night to end yet either. "Use the belt," she said in her stage projection voice. "Beat my behind until I am screaming and then fuck me in the ass." A loud applause greeted her words and she suddenly thought, That's the best audience response I've ever gotten for one of my lines.' Jerry walked back around behind her and said, "I'm going to give you twenty with the belt and you are going to thank me after each one and keep track of the count." He didn't wait for a response, but instead swung the belt as soon as he was in position. It wasn't a perfect stroke, but it snapped loudly and caused a short scream from Janet. She gulped and called out, "One. Thank you, Master." Why had she said Master? Was it that she didn't want to call out his name? Or, was it perhaps that using that word added to her sense of being helpless and bound? Snap! "Two. Thank you, Master." Snap! "Three. Thank you, Master." So it continued as Jerry slowly crisscrossed her ass with welts. The pain and the heat on her asscheeks got greater with each strike of the belt. So did the heat within her. Finally she heard herself calling out, "Twenty. Thank you, Master." She didn't feel him pull the butt plug out of her ass, but she did feel his prick entering her. She could especially feel it as his body slapped lightly against her now swollen asscheeks as he thrust fully into her. "Oh God!" she heard herself screaming. She was well above any level of passion that she had ever reached before. The pain... the forbiddenness of anal sex... the humiliation of having sex on stage in front of hundreds of people... the fact that dozens of her friends and neighbors had seen the most intimate parts of her body... all of this drove her higher and higher as Jerry continued to fuck her ass. Janet could no longer form words. At best she was grunting in a high-pitched keening wail. Then she totally lost control of her body and her mind. She exploded. The brilliance of the lights within her mind as she frantically bucked back against Jerry was far greater than all the stage lights trained on her naked body. She didn't feel Jerry stop. She didn't feel him withdraw from her ass. She didn't feel the platform rotating once again so that she was facing the audience. All of this became apparent to her only as control returned slowly to her mind and body as she hung panting in the stocks. "Time for your bow," Jerry said softly as he removed the top portion of the beam which was holding her in place. He had to support her as he led her, on wobbly legs, to stage front where they stood together on the apron to receive the thunderous applause. He bowed and used his hand behind her back to force her to bow with him. After the third bow, the applause began to fade slowly away. In the relative silence, Janet was now standing in center stage, naked, facing who knows how many of her friends, neighbors, and fellow workers. With the glow of what she had just experienced also starting to fade, she was now feeling fear and dread. How could she ever face these people again? She would have to quit her job. They might have to move out of the community. How could she have allowed Jerry to do this to her? "If you knew what the show was," Jerry suddenly asked her, "would you have still come to the theater tonight?" Janet stood silently for a moment before shuddering out, "Yes. I would have given anything for this night." "Happy Anniversary," a voice said suddenly over the theater speaker system. The lights began to quickly dim and Janet could see out into the audience. She could still hear the murmur and noise of an audience leaving the theater, but there was no one there. The work lights over the control booth in the balcony came on and Janet could see John standing there waving his arms at her. "Just me," he said. "... and my magical array of lights and sound effects." A few moments later he quickly walked up the aisle and stepped onto the stage. "A while back, Jerry asked me how I knew you from college," he said to her. "I told him I met you while I was working on fire detectors in your dorm." He laughed lightly, "I didn't know that you had told him about that. I didn't give any details of how we met, but I didn't have to. He knew all about it. And from that point on, he knew that I knew about your fantasies. He came to me a couple weeks ago and asked if I would help you live out one of those fantasies in a safe fashion." He looked up and down Janet's sweat drenched body and smirked. "It looks like you went through at least four or five of them tonight." He then handed Jerry a set of keys and said, "Make sure you lock everything up before you go." As he walked toward the backstage door he called back over his shoulder, "Happy Anniversary." Jerry pulled Janet close and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "Did you enjoy your anniversary present?" he asked. "Mmmmm," she answered. "Your sweatpants and sweatshirt are on a chair backstage." He continued. "We can leave as soon as I shut everything down." "I would like to do one more little thing first," she said. "What's that?" he asked. "Give you an anniversary present," she said, "Turn all the spotlights back on and lay down on your back in the middle of the stage. I'm going to do an on-stage flash dance routine on your pole and ride you like you have never been ridden before." As Jerry scurried toward the light booth, she yelled after him, "And if you can, turn the sound back on so it sounds like there is a huge audience out there watching us. " = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 UMPA Eleven http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952 BDSM Boot Camp http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11204 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Sacrifice 250 by The Technician Sci-Fi / Fantasy / Mind Control / Sacrifice / Public Nudity / Public orgasm / Public Sex / Exhibitionism = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Will Olivia be fertility sacrifice two hundred fifty? Over the course of the 1000 years of existence for Colony Seven, there have been 249 fertility sacrifices offered to the gods. The time for the 250th fertility festival approaches. Who will be chose as Sacrifice 250? = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician} Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Olivia didn't think that she would be chosen. There were well over a million women in the colony now and only one was chosen at each festival. With odds of one million to one, no woman actually thought that they would ever be The Chosen One... but every four years, as the festival approached, every woman prepared herself, just in case. Olivia had properly prepared herself. There was no hair on her body below her neck. She had given herself seven enemas, the last two with olive oil so that she was totally clean and permanently lubricated there at least for the Day of the Choosing. She also had a special festival vibrator in her cunt, quietly keeping her aroused so that she was also well lubricated in front. On her nipples were two moderate-sized butterfly clamps. They were just snug enough to keep them from falling off. Their looseness allowed them to droop so that they were not quite as obvious through her thin black robe. If she were chosen, the clamps would be tightened and seven fine chains of gold would be connected to act as a leash as she was paraded through the streets of the colony by the seven prophetesses in the long, ritual procession to the temple. The chance of her being chosen was less than one in a million, but if she were chosen, these preparations would show her willingness and the willingness of all of women of the colony to be a sacrifice to the gods in return for the gods' continued gift of fertility. If she were The Chosen One, when the clothing was torn from her body and the clamps and vibrator were displayed to the people, it would be proof to the people and to the gods that all of the women of the colony were prepared to be The Chosen One. Every woman knew that it was vital to the survival of the colony that she show herself willing to be the one chosen as the fertility sacrifice for the entire planet. Besides, once the ritual orgy began, everyone's preparations would become obvious. Once all clothing was discarded, everyone would know who had and had not properly prepared themselves. So, as Olivia had so carefully prepared herself, she knew that, after the sacrifice was chosen and it was NOT her, her preparations would still be known to the gods... and to the other women of the colony. Woe to the woman who had not truly prepared herself. Many of the men of the colony also prepared themselves in case they might be chosen. In the thousand years since the colony was founded, only eleven men had been chosen, but the possibility still existed. Nine of the eleven had been fertility priests, who, despite their name, were actually self-made eunuchs who served as prostitutes on the Table of Fertility in the Temple of Jarleena's Mother. It was assumed that the other two men chosen had also been men who secretly enjoyed receiving instead of or as well as giving the seeds of fertility. Evidently, only male "receivers" were considered for the sacrifice. Thus, not all men needed to show themselves as willing, and those that did were, in effect, declaring their sexual preferences by "getting up on the table." The preparations for a man were very similar to those done by a woman. There was the same number and type of enemas. All hair was removed from the neck down some men removed all hair. The difference was that the men did not use the nipple clamps, and the vibrator, of necessity was inserted anally. It is almost impossible for nipple clamps to be secured to a man such that they would not pull off if used to lead him through the streets of town. So instead, much smaller butterfly clamps were used for symbolic purposes, and a thin, golden chain, or a large, permanent, cock ring, encircled the base of the man's penis. If the man were chosen, it would be there that the 7 chains of the leash would be connected... unless, of course, the man were a temple priest. For the eunuch- priests, there was a belt of silver chain and a silver vibrating anal hook which came between the eunuch's legs to attach to the chain-belt in the front. *** This year would be the two hundred-fiftieth fertility sacrifice. It had been a thousand years since Jarleena first spoke the words of the gods and began the ritual. This day was not something which the colonists brought to the planet from home world. When the colony first came to the planet, they did not build a fertility temple. There was no table of fertility. They held no fertility festival. But then, again, when the colony first came to the planet, there was no fertility. The stark and bitter reality, discovered shortly after arrival, was that the planet and everything on it was barren. No children were born. Nothing would grow in the ground. The four-year turnover mark was approaching and supplies were not being replenished. Four years was supposed to be the make-it or break-it decision point. Each colony planting is slightly different, but for this colony, the master plan stated that if the colony was not self- sufficient at the end of four years, the colonists should re-board the colony ship and jump to the alternate colony site. There was only a twelve-year supply of food and other necessities on the ship. The colony planet was two years from home planet using the highest speed drives available. The secondary planet was an additional two years away. Admitting defeat at four years allowed for the possibility of a second attempt... a second two-year jump through space... a second four-year time to make the colony self-sufficient. But regardless of sustainability on this planet, the trip to the alternate colony planet would never occur. The landing spot, found by long- range robotic scouts, had appeared to be perfect. It was hard, flat, and higher than all the surrounding terrain. The robot craft had made several test landings on the high plateau before marking the planet as a high-level probability for colonization. The next set of robot scout ships brought back soil, water, and air samples. The decision was made. Planet X47G32B would be the primary colony site for Colony 7. X91G73K would be the alternate. The massive colony ship was built in orbit around the home planet. More than four thousand colonists of all ages were placed in stasis chambers aboard the ship and, with great fanfare, it departed into the darkness of interstellar space. The scientists designing and using the scout ships, however, hadn't properly accounted for the weight of such a massive ship. Of necessity, the colony ship itself had to descend to the planet's surface. It was theoretically possible for it to launch itself back into space, if necessary, using the thermonuclear engines which had propelled them at such high speeds through space. The unfortunate reality of TN engines, however, was that although setting them off at ground level would theoretically propel you into space, the nuclear backblast would leave a scorched and barren planet behind you. These highly-destructive engines could never be used on home planet. And they could not be used on an active colony planet. They would only be used for lift-off if the first colony had failed completely and was being totally abandoned. The colony was failing. But the giant TN engines would never blast the colony ship off X47G32B. And report rockets carried by the colony ship would never be launched to report their dilemma back to home planet. A report rocket was sent back toward home planet the day following arrival. But exactly 43 days after touching down, giant tremors shook the ground and the ship slowly began to sink. Frantic, round-the-clock, work emptied the ship of all necessary supplies, but everything was unloaded by priority, and report rockets were a much lower priority than food and water. The rest of the report rockets were among those supplies still on board when the ship sank forever beneath the rock and sand of the high plateau. Even if the report rockets had been salvaged, it would take the much, much slower rockets almost a century to return to home planet. They could not be used to call for aid. The colony, like all deep space colonies, was totally on its own. *** How did that tragic series of events lead to this quadrennial festival of debauchery? It is recorded in the archives of the colony that in the sixth year after launch... after four years on planet... on the very night in which the Council of Sixteen met to discuss Contingency Plan Gamma X, a prophetess arose among the colonists. Jarleena, daughter of Abmola, suddenly stood among the gathered leaders and began speaking in a voice that was not her own. "This planet has forgotten how to be fertile," she said. "Every fourth year, on this day, you must choose a woman willing to be a public showing of fertility for the planet. The planet must be able to watch her in the throes of passion so that it remembers what it is to be fertile. She must be filled with seed and with life. Her passion must be the strongest bearable so that the planet can feel the energy of fertility and awaken from its barren sleep. And finally, the woman must be given to the planet through the mouth created by the great ship." At that point, Jarleena, still in an apparent trance, began to take off her clothing. The voice that was not hers continued from her mouth, "I have chosen this woman as the first of the fertility offerings. Each of you male and female must use her severely before the night is through. Then in the morning, bind her and throw her into the abyss created by the sinking ship." Four years earlier, these fifteen men and women would have spoken as one with a resounding "No!" But the six years since launch had changed these leaders. Two years in the darkness of space and four years of total crop failures had changed their perspective on life. The life of one person or even the lives of the majority of the colony had a different meaning now. Survival of any life on this planet was at stake. The purpose of tonight's meeting was to discuss the necessity of implementing Contingency Plan Gamma X to add to the available survival time for the colony. Gamma X was a plan of last resort which called for the introduction of a virus into the air that would be fatal for up to nine out of ten colonists. Of course, essential scientists and leaders would be vaccinated in advance. If sacrificing Jarleena one woman to whatever power it was that currently possessed her would put off the Gamma X contingency, then what did they have to lose? What is the life of one compared to the lives of many thousands? The decision was made before it was even considered. Besides, hers was not the first sacrifice for the good of the colony. Her name would join the list of those who were lost when they stayed at their duty stations helping stabilize the colony ship as it slowly descended beneath the crust of the planet. The council members would later say that the decision was taken away from them that night. It was as if something had taken them over and they were merely within their bodies watching while someone else did whatever was done. In reality, most of the council had very little true memory of the rest of that night. From what little was recorded, it was apparent that the remainder of the meeting that night was nothing less than a massive orgy with Jarleena spread out on the council table. But she was not the only woman on the table. Whatever it was affected all the female members of the council. They tore off their own clothing and attacked Jarleena in frenzied passion or joined her on the table on their backs with their legs spread wide, yelling for the men in the room to fuck them. Even Evonae, who was in a mate relationship with another woman, was on her back begging to be fucked. There is no visual record of what happened in the council chambers that night. It is known that the meeting continued on until morning, but no one noticed. Because they had been expecting to invoke the Gamma X contingency plan, the Council of Sixteen had declared the meeting to be special and confidential. The cameras which normally broadcast all meetings were turned off. The public galleries were closed. The members of the council had even told their families that they might not be home until very, very late the next morning. What happened the next morning, however, is clearly known. It was witnessed by most of the colony and video records of what occurred are still in the archives. Shortly after dawn, the doors to the council chamber opened and the entire council marched out chanting something which no one understood. Even the men and women chanting had no idea what they were saying. They were walking three abreast, packed very closely together. Their arms were above their heads. Supported by their hands high above them was the bound, naked body of Jarleena. Cries of "What is going on?" came from the crowd which quickly assembled. Others cried out, "Someone stop them! They've gone mad!" But the five rows of three marched onward through the colony, across the barren fields, and up to the plateau through which the doomed ship had sunk shortly after they had arrived on the planet. The chant changed as the fifteen members of the council turned and stood alongside the gaping hole which went deep into the soil. It almost sounded like numbers as together they grunted, "Brou! Droh! Kai!" No one recognized the words or the language but on "Kai!" everyone gave a sudden jumping push and Jarleena's body arced over the side and into the deep hole. As her bound form plummeted head first into the bottomless abyss, a sudden flash of light and flame illuminated the hole as if the planet were welcoming her into its fiery core. A few moments later the council men and women were staring at each other wondering how they had gotten there and asking themselves why they were naked. Initially, the security forces arrested them all on suspicion of... of... of... of what no one was sure, but something definitely wasn't right and the head of security effectively declared martial law until things could be sorted out. Argument about legal responses to the events of that night were heard in every gathering place in the colony for many days. Those arguments were suddenly silenced when, two weeks later, seeds long-forgotten as lost began to push up through the ground in the dusty fields. A month later several of the women of the colony reported to the medics that their periods were late. People watched in amazement as the strange withered posts which dotted the landscape suddenly put forth leaves and new branches. Some even began to bear fruit. The barren planet had awakened. Now the whispered word in the gathering places was, "The sacrifice was accepted." Shortly thereafter, public discussion changed from legal repercussions for the remaining fifteen members of the council, to how and when to plan for next sacrifice. *** That was one thousand years ago. The sacrifices have been offered every four years since then. Tonight would be sacrifice 250. The hour of sacrifice was approaching. Olivia could feel herself being guided to her prophetess position. She had been one of the seven prophetesses for the past five sacrifices. Shortly after 11:30, the seven women of the colony chosen to be voices for the gods, would feel a compelling need to walk to the town square. Set around the square were seven circles of metal. No one seemed to know why those circles were there or when they were put in place, but on the night of sacrifice, they would glow slightly and the seven women would be led to stand in the center of each circle. From there they would act as the voice of the gods to announce The Chosen One. As midnight approached, all seven prophetesses would go into a trance. At exactly midnight, they would speak in one voice and loudly proclaim, "Shayomie or whomever is The Chosen One." Shayomie had been Sacrifice 249. Somehow, The Chosen One was always also present in the square at midnight to hear the announcement of the prophetesses. Having announced the name of The Chosen One, the seven would then descend on her and rip the clothing from her body. After tightening her nipple clamps, a seven-stranded golden chain would be attached to The Chosen One's nipples, and she would be pulled around the town square actually a circle and then through the town in an ever- widening spiral outward until at last they reached the road which formed the outer boundary of the circular city. On the last circuit, the procession would turn down the Avenue of Plenty and The Chosen One would be pulled back to the center of town, to the Temple of Jarleena's Mother and the Table of Fertility. The temple was built on the site of the original council building. The table was a faithful reconstruction, except for size, of the original table used at the council meetings in the first years of the colony. It was now many times larger and made of highly polished igneous rock, but Jarleena, herself, would still recognize it as the table around which she had sat for so many meetings and on which she was defiled a millennia past. Olivia felt herself fading more deeply into her prophetic trance. Now everything would become dream-like. When she spoke for the gods, she was able to still see and feel and think, but her words and actions were not her own. It was as if she were a guest in her own body. She could feel herself swaying. The sacred chant was beginning within her. The time of the announcement was almost here. The town clock made that slight clicking sound it made just before it struck the hour and the entire town... the entire planet... fell silent. At exactly midnight, the clock chimed the hour. As soon as the deep "bong" of the tower bell rang for the twelfth time... while the echo of that sound was just beginning to fade... Olivia could hear her voice crying out, "I... am... sacrifice... 250!" That isn't what the other six screamed. They said, "Olivia is sacrifice 250," but Olivia herself claimed her chosenness with the words, "I am sacrifice 250." Normally, her trance would continue until she and her sister prophetesses had dragged The Chosen One to the Temple of Jarleena's Mother, but tonight, Olivia felt the trance lift as soon as her words left her mouth. She had been chosen! She was sacrifice 250! Olivia could see the other prophetesses converging on her from around the square. Before they could arrive, her hands flew quickly to her clothing and she stripped herself bare. Then standing proud and ready with her hands behind her head in the proper posture of The Chosen One, she thrust her breasts forward awaiting the attachment of the chains. The nipple clamps hurt for a moment as they were tightened, but soon the sensation of pain was replaced by sensations of passion. Buleena, chief of the prophetesses, tightened the clamps and attached the golden chains. She looked confused for a moment as to what to do with the seventh chain, so Olivia opened her mouth and Buleena set the end of the chain between her teeth. Buleena reached down and slowly massaged Olivia's cunt. The sensations were so overwhelming that Olivia groaned loudly and nearly collapsed. Obviously, something was greatly magnifying the sexual satisfaction she was receiving as the chosen sacrifice. "The gods have chosen well," said Buleena as she and her sisters began pulling Olivia around the town square. Olivia did not mean to resist them. She wanted to follow them. She was going willingly. But for some reason, her body was resisting just enough so that tension was needed on the chains to pull her forward with each step that she took. That tension caused the butterfly clamps to tighten further which sent waves of sensations through her body causing her to hesitate in her step which required more tension to pull her forward. It was a rapidly escalating spiral of pain and pleasure. She could also feel drops of liquid hitting her body. The crowd surged and pulsed around her as they walked. Ornate honey-dippers, held high above the heads of the crowd, were flicked in her direction. There was very little actual honey in the slots of these elongated dippers. Unlike a ball honey dipper, whose design was optimized for drizzling honey on various pastries, these vaguely penis- shaped devices were primarily symbolic of impregnation. They held, and spewed forth, only a drop or two of honey. But one or two drops of honey, drizzled through the air from thousands of these phallic substitutes, soon had Olivia's skin glistening with sticky sweetness. If you were located somewhere high above the crowd and watched Olivia's slow progress through the packed throng, you might think that she was a magical, mystical being of some sort. In front of her were the packed crowds jostling to be close to her as she passed. Around her were screaming men and women reaching out to touch her or to cast honey on her body. And behind her in an ever-widening spiral, was a naked sea of copulation. From the time the sacrifice passed you on the night of choosing, until The Chosen One was cast into the planet's mouth, it was the duty of every adult member of the colony to demonstrate to the gods the act of fertility. All of that sexual energy would be channeled into the Temple of Jarleena's Mother. The sacrifice, lying on the Table of Fertility throughout the night, would absorb that energy. When The Chosen One could stand no more, she would be bound and cast into the mouth of the planet to take that sexual energy directly to the gods so that fertility may continue to exist within the colony for another four years. The final walk down the Avenue of Plenty was much more raucous and more overtly raunchy and sexual than had been the long walk along the spider web design of city streets which had brought Olivia to the outer walls of the colony. The time of fertility had now begun for everyone in the city. The crowds were still yelling and still casting honey on her, but many in the crowd were also coupled together, screaming out their passion to her as if the energy of their orgasm could somehow be transferred to her. Olivia had never fully believed all of the myths which surrounded the sacrifice. She was especially skeptical of the accumulation of sexual energy by The Chosen One. But as she walked down the Avenue of Plenty, she could feel power of some sort filling her. It was the power of pleasure. She could feel herself pulling back against the golden chains. She could hear herself calling out in sexual passion. This was more than just an intense, extended orgasm. This was the raw power of fertility. Lost in her own pleasure, she didn't realize that they had arrived at the temple until Buleena gently pushed her back over the edge of the Table of Fertility. Buleena and the other five prophetesses climbed onto the table with her. Someone loosened and removed the nipple clamps by which she had been led to this spot. Then with all of the prophetesses chanting one of the sacred songs, they began licking the honey from her body. Olivia gasped in pleasure. Six mouths roamed her body. Her breasts... her clit... her fingers... her toes... every place which could feel pleasure was being subjected to an onslaught of tongues. Around the Table, many other women and men stood waiting. No one else could mount the table until the prophetesses completed their ritual. Finally, their ritual approached its climax. The six women, now all just as covered in honey as Olivia had once been, rolled off of her to lie on the table alongside her with their legs held widely spread. Again, the prophetesses spoke as one in the voice of the gods as they cried out, "Fill us with the power of fertility!" Many things happened all at once. Men pushed and shoved to be the first to penetrate one of the prophetesses, or perhaps even The Chosen One herself. Some women knelt to worship the wombs that would receive the offerings of fertility. Other women scrambled up onto the table and mimicked the posture of The Chosen One and her court of prophetesses. Some women bent over the edge of the table so as to give any man who came up behind them the choice of either opening in which to deposit their seed. Still other women lay on the table on their backs with their heads toward the outer circle of the table so that they could offer their third opening to receive the seed. Olivia could feel herself being positioned so that all three of her openings were available at the same time. Five times before, she had lain on the table alongside the sacrifice and wondered if it was really different for The Chosen One. Tonight, she had her answer, "Yes! It was different!" The sex she experienced as a prophetess was almost unbearably pleasurable. She had thought those nights to have been the most pleasure she could possibly withstand, and yet it was orders of magnitude less than the ecstacy which was now coursing through her body. She was on fire. She was being consumed by pleasure. Her body was becoming light. She was fertility itself. There was no way for Olivia to know how much time had passed. From the thickness of the layer of cum on her body, she knew that she had received the offerings of thousands of men. And from the changes in the noise around her she thought that morning was perhaps approaching. As she tried to look around, she could feel herself being slid across the shiny and now slimey table. Hands lifted her. Soft ropes encircled her. She was being carried outside. Olivia stared at the sky as it slowly changed from dark black to gray to pale blue. She was definitely outside, and it was dawn. It was time for her final journey to the mouth of the planet. It seemed to her as if she were floating through the town as she rode, flat on her back, on the fifteen hands of the council members. That is how it had been that morning for Jarleena, the first Chosen, and how it had been for the 237 women and 11 men who had been chosen in the years since. On one side of town, the path they were now taking was called The Avenue of Plenty. It led from the town square out to the fertile fields. The same fields which had enticed the colony to settle here. On the other side of town... on the other side of the town square... the same road was called The Avenue of Need. At the edge of town, The Avenue of Need became a dusty, rising path which wound its way to the top of the plateau on which the colony ship had landed one thousand years earlier, and through which the ship had descended into oblivion. As they walked, the council members were chanting the sacred song. Despite years of study by the priests of fertility, its meaning was still unknown. The words and tune to the chant were known from the video records of that first night. If The Chosen One were not a member of council, then the chairperson of council lead the procession through the town and out to the plateau. If The Chosen One were from the council, then a representative of The Chosen One's family would carry the sacred torch, holding it high so everyone in the long procession which followed would be able to see the head of the column. The torch was intentionally made to have a bright, but smoky flame so that it could be easily seen as the night gave way to dawn. Olivia could feel the rhythmic swaying of the strange bier that bore her to her grave. From the moment she was chosen, she knew that, ultimately, she was chosen to die for the fertility of the planet. Just before this final procession, she had been offered the bitter cup, but refused. She was not afraid. There was no need for drugs to immobilize her so that she did not disgrace herself. The path was getting steeper. Olivia could feel herself slipping slightly on the hands that held her. The wiggling of fingers working to bring her back to proper position felt strange against her back and legs. It was even slightly erotic as those fingers slipped slightly against and between the flesh of her ass and legs... flesh which was still slippery from her own, and many others', fluids. The procession stopped. The crowd following began to spread out around the edge of the crater... hole... mouth... created when the colony ship sank. Soon the entire crowd was loudly chanting the sacred song. Then the signal was given. The torch carried by the leader of the procession was thrown in a high arc into the center of the planet's mouth to illuminate her way. For a brief moment everything became totally silent. Then Olivia felt herself bounce lightly as the crowd shouted out "Brou!" And then, "Droh!" And finally, "Kai!" On "Kai!" she felt the hands beneath her bounce and then push upward in unison. Suddenly she was flying forward through the air. She felt her body turning so that she was pointed head down. The hole was becoming darker and darker and darker as she continued to fall. No one knew how deep the hole actually was. After the sinking, some colonists had attempted to climb down to the ship. It was not possible. No light could reach the bottom of the hole. No measuring device could discern the ultimate depth of the shaft. Olivia took a deep breath, waiting for that final instant when she would be crushed against the rocks or ship or whatever made up the bottom of the shaft. Then she stopped falling. She didn't hit anything. She was still head down as though falling, but all movement seemed to have stopped. Hands were once again on her body. The hands were removing her bonds. They were turning her so that she was upright. There was something beneath her feet that felt like soft sand. A small amount of light illuminated the ground beneath her. A soft voice said, "Follow me." Soon Olivia found herself shielding her eyes as she stepped through a hatch-like door into a brightly lit room. There were several dozen women in the room, all of them naked. One stepped up to her and said, "Welcome to the control room." = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY... but there is more below. This is the end of Sacrifice 250 after my final edit. Originally I had several more sections which gave the sci-fi-technical explanation of the events in the story. I decided to remove these sections for two reasons. One, they aren't at all sexy. And two, they are boring unless you are a sci-fi geek-type person. However, since many of my readers ARE sci-fi geek-type people, I am including these segments as an epilogue. Read if you want to. Ignore if you want to. But don't judge the story negatively if you think the epilogue sucks. I warned you what it is... and is not. The Technician. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Epilogue - Disaster Buoy, Colony Seven 273 years following the launch of Colony Ship Seven more than two centuries after it was assumed lost a faint signal was detected from its disaster buoy. A disaster buoy is a message of last resort which is launched automatically if a ship breaks up in space for any reason. It can also be launched manually if a catastrophe overtakes the ship and there is no other way to report back to home planet. Eight years after the first, faint signals were detected, the buoy was within range of a deep space station and the information it contained was able to be retrieved. What follows is the report carried by that buoy. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Colony Seven has failed in the worst possible way. This planet cannot support life and we are unable to lift off and relocate to the alternate location. Only days after planet fall, the colony ship began slowly sinking into the ground. Emergency, round-the-clock efforts were able to remove almost all essential materials. Lost with the ship however, were all report rockets, the disaster buoy, various repair and maintenance parts, a significant amount of food supplies, and 73 members of the crew, including myself, Captain Harriet Maazman. As we descended into the depths of the planet, we each accepted our fate and hoped that our sacrifice had enabled the others to offload sufficient supplies for the colony to be successful. Then the ship gradually slowed and we quit falling. It was as if we were on some sort of giant elevator, which we later learned was exactly what was occurring. Looking out of the port holes of the ship after we stopped, it was obvious that we were in the center of what appeared to be an artificial planet. The engineers among us were ecstatic to see a technology that could create or modify or move a planet into that thin orbital distance that supports life. Finding a planet with the necessary metals, minerals, and fluids to support life isn't the hard part of selecting colony planets. It is finding a planet which has all that and is also the proper distance from a proper-sized sun so that life as we know it can exist. It took a few months to figure out how to gain entrance to the planetary control rooms. Once we were inside it took many more months to be able to read the instruments and understand the manuals and procedures. After a while, we were even able to use the surface monitors, though we had no idea how they truly worked. We could then see that something was terribly wrong up top. Nothing was growing. We knew that plants aboard the ship were dying off, but attributed that to being in the center of the planet. It was after the crops again refused to grow in the second planting season that the cause of the problem became known to us. Raoul Tobin, one of the chief engineers, was attempting to figure out what a strange cabinet-like device was in one of the labs. Suddenly he started screaming, "Shit! Scheive! Skat! Skit! Mut! Merde! Bok! ..." Raoul knew over 194 different words for fecal material, and was known to go through the entire list several times if he was really upset. I got his attention with a loud, "Mister Tobin!" which I followed immediately with an equally loud command, "Report!" "The word we can't read in the manuals," he began, "the one that talks about the planetary systems." Pointing to the controls on the cabinet, he said, "That is the word and symbol right there." Looking up at me he said excitedly, "And do you know what it does?" He pushed it. "It puts everything in the unit into total stasis. This damn planet is in standby mode." The words and symbols on the equipment provided the needed keys to the language. Over the next few months more of the manuals were translated. The planet had indeed been placed on standby until the arrival of a colony ship from its creators' home planet. Judging from the dust, corrosion, and other indications of the passage of time, it had been waiting for centuries, if not millennia. Hand-written notes indicated that an attempt to colonize had been made at some point, but failed because the planet, for some reason, would not come out of stasis. After six years, the remnants of the colony were evacuated to another location and this marvelous piece of technology was abandoned as sterile and uninhabitable. As time passed, we figured out many other things. One was that objects thrown down into the elevator shaft never crashed into the bottom. They fell the thousands of feet down the hole gaining speed most of the way, but then decelerated and came almost to a stop before drifting slowly to the floor of the control level. It was in the middle of the fourth season that we came to understand the true purpose of the sensors which were buried beneath the surface of the planet. They were intended to detect life. But they did more than that. If someone lived or spent a great deal of time directly over one of the sensors, they somehow became linked to the entire sensor network. We were able to talk to them... or more exactly we were able to talk through them. Others could hear our voices come from that person, or if they were alone, they would later remember what was said. Unfortunately, those through whom we first attempted to communicate were adjudged to be suffering from hibernation sickness, so others would hide or ignore our attempts to communicate. The sensors appeared to be tuned to emotions in some way. When there was significant activity especially emotional activity near one of the sensors, it would register on the monitor panels in the control room. Large family gatherings would cause the indicators to rise slightly. Angry arguments would create an even larger rise in readings. Sexual activity especially a woman's orgasm would create the highest readings. In fact, there was one woman, Jarleena, who evidently lived directly over a sensor, and who was known to own an impressive collection of personal sexual aides. Her almost nightly activities often caused the level indicator to change colors from pale blue to bright yellow. Three weeks ago, one of the engineers was finally able to translate the section of the manual which dealt with the sensor monitor displays. "Yellow means 80% of what it calls trigger minimum,'" he explained. "If we could just get her to go even higher, or perhaps to have something else happening around her to elevate the background levels, it should be enough to trigger the planet out of standby mode." Earlier tonight, the background levels from one sensor the one directly beneath the government building began rising dramatically. "That must be one hell of a meeting," I said aloud, "If we could only get someone to orgasm on top of this, we would have the necessary level." Turning to the engineers in the room, I added, "But even if we can communicate with someone in that room, how do we convince a bunch of government leaders that they have to have an orgy so the planet will come to life? Who is going to believe something that ridiculous and unbelievable. It's not like I can just order them to offer up an orgasm like a sacrifice to the gods." "It's exactly that," Raoul shouted as he came into the room. "A communication from the gods is the only thing people will believe without proof. We need a believable prophet and we need a sacrifice to the gods. Jarleena could be both at the same time... and she's already there. She is a member of council; she's linked to the entire sensor system; and she's insatiable sexually. We communicate through her and tell them that the gods of the planet demand that they make her cum like she's never cum before so that fertility can be restored. It doesn't have to be real... or true... it only has to work." "But she would know the truth of what had happened when she came back to being herself, wouldn't she?" asked another of the engineers. "Have them throw her down here to us," answered Raoul. Everyone looked over at him aghast, and he explained, "We will need to eventually replace our numbers anyway. Someone has to run the control room when we pass on. A sacrifice every couple of years will maintain the necessary crew down here." He picked up his well-read copy of the planet's manuals. "And from what I can tell, we will have to repeat this peak reading every three or four years anyway to keep the planet from going back into stasis." So, three hours after nightfall last night, we began communicating through the woman, Jarleena. Since then readings have continued to rise. Additional computers and other equipment are starting to come on line. I am unsure whether the power will remain functional after the levels return to normal, so while power is at its peak, we will attempt to launch our disaster buoy using what Raoul assures me is a pulse cannon designed to shoot things into orbit around the planet. Once the buoy is high enough into space, hopefully its internal programming will take over and it will eventually find its way back to our home planet. The disaster buoy relies on cosmic winds and random interaction to navigate through space, so it could take many, many years to reach the home planet. If our plan works, there may still be people alive on Colony Seven when you receive this message. If the plan fails, we all will have become part of the dust of this barren planet, but you will at least have the answer to why the colony failed. I am hopeful, but much depends on our actions here tonight, and the actions of the people on the surface. Ultimately, however, the life of the colony depends on the surface people, in some fashion, continuing this strange, but necessary, ritual in future years. It is the only way to insure the continuation of life on this planet. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY AND EPILOGUE = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Twelve Days a Slave 10 of 13 by The Technician slavery, public nudity, public wrestling, public spanking, public humiliation, public punishment = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Combat can be punishment... at least for the loser. This is the story of a young woman's conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do NOTprohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. After the woman is convicted, a "sentence negotiator" gets her sentence reduced to a public day of repentance followed by eleven days of public punishment. Following that, she is to serve one year of penal servitude. This story deals with non-consensual punishment, pain, and involuntary slavery. If such topics offend you or upset you, I would advise skipping this particular book. There are thirteen chapters to this story. The chapters can be read on their own, but the story is much better understood if the previous portions have been read. The complete story is full book length. I debated publishing it with some of my other books at Fiction4all, but decided that I would rather serialize it and post it here. A description of the thirteen chapters follows the end of each chapter. The eighth day introduces a unique punishment punishment by combat. There is also an undercard of slave wrestling with humiliation and pain in store for the loser. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician} The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Chapter Ten - The eighth day introduces a unique punishment punishment by combat. The morning smell of coffee and bacon brought missy out of her deep sleep. After her morning bathroom routine, she padded out to the front of the RV. Sitting on her towel across from William she ate her breakfast in silence. William hadn't greeted her when she came into the kitchen. He now sat silently across the table from her carefully cutting up his egg and putting small pieces into his mouth. Something was definitely wrong. He normally ate very rapidly, scooping up an egg whole and shoveling it into his mouth. "Am I in trouble?" she asked. "Did I do something wrong?" There was no answer. "Are you mad at me?" she asked. Her voice was starting to sound desperate. William was the only one who seemed to care for her and treat her like a person. William put down his fork and looked up at her. "It's not you," he said slowly. Then with rising anger in his voice he said, "I didn't want this day. I didn't set it up. It was forced on me. That damned Mistress Soo wanted it. And she either has something on Judge Atkinson or is fucking him... or both." "What happens today?" missy asked. Now she was truly scared and her voice showed it. "Mistress Soo," he began, "has a stable of female wrestlers. She bulks them up with steroids or just works the hell out of them to get them in top shape and then travels around the country presenting naked female wrestling. Her gimmick is that the loser of the match gets punished by the winner." He scooped up the rest of the egg on his plate and shoved it in his mouth before continuing. "She set it up so that you have to wrestle five of her best. At the end of the match which everyone assumes you will lose you get punished. She uses the standard girl's school escalation of punishments. First match is for ten hand spanks. The second is ten with a slipper. The third is ten with a leather paddle. The fourth is ten with a wooden paddle. And the fifth is six with the cane." For the first time since she met him, missy thought that William looked desperate. "I can't control this one " he said quickly. "What happens in Soo's ring is not part of my show. You could end up hurt in there." His voice took on an overtone of anger, "I have a suspicion that Mistress Soo, whoever in the hell she really is, is planning to be the fifth wrestler. And she is known to cut people all to hell with her cane." He threw his fork down. "I don't want that happening to you," he spat out. After a long pause he said, "I've given this a lot of thought. Soo is a twenty-four carat Bitch, but like me, she is a showman. She has to please the crowd to make money. This is going out on all the vid channels and she is hoping it spikes the draw for her future appearances." He took missy's hands in his own. "I know you can't win, but you don't have to. You just have to make a really good show of it. You have to get the crowd rooting for you. Then that Bitch will have to go easier on you in the last match. Play to your own strengths and take advantage of their weaknesses. Look them over real good before you even get into the ring. Figure out what will give you an advantage any advantage and then exploit the hell out of it." Missy looked up at him. It was obvious that she was afraid. "Do you think you can handle that?" he asked. She nodded her head. It wasn't really a choice. Not much was for her these days. She was going to wrestle well-built, muscled wrestlers and she was going to lose. Her only choice was how badly she lost. She would just have to handle whatever happened. "On top of all that," William continued, "you are your own undercard. The first match is at noon. Then there will be a match every half hour with the final match starting at two. Between matches you go back into your cage and hang over the ring." He slammed his fist into the table, "This SUCKS!" he yelled. "I can't help what is happening today, but by God I will get that bitch for this!" Missy sat and stared at him. He wasn't upset because the Mistress had out maneuvered him or because the bitch was calling the shots. He was upset because she might get hurt. He cared for her more than anyone had before. He was just her owner, but he treated her better than previous bosses, friends or even boyfriends. William brought her out of her thoughts with a gruff, "Time to clean up, grease up, lock up, and mount up." Missy quickly cleaned up the few pans and dishes and then went outside to join William. As usual, he threw her the baby oil and baby gel for her to apply to her body while he got the ATV and trailers out of the utility trailer. She watched as he went back inside the big trailer to get the rolling sign. The sign was different than before. Rather than just giving the time of the show, it proclaimed, "Come see Mistress Soo and her Stable of Wrestling Female Slaves" It then listed the times for each bout. Also added on a small sign supported over the main sign by two small rods was a red sign with white lettering which said, "Lottery ends tonight at midnight. Winners will be notified immediately. Buy your tickets at Fairground or on line." It then gave the Slave missy's Punishment Tour website. "What's the lottery?" she asked William as she handed him the oil bottles so he could grease up her back. "Today's troubles are enough for today," he replied wearily. "Save tomorrow's troubles for tomorrow." "Thanks, Yoda," she said as she stepped into her cage, "I'll have to write that down and remember it." William looked like he really wanted to say something, but instead he just shook his head slightly and climbed on the ATV. He drove the usual route, but instead of waving at anyone and everyone on the route, he stared glumly ahead. "It looks he's doing enough worrying for both of us," she thought to herself. "Whatever is happening this afternoon must really be bothering him." Because William was so worried, missy also had trouble paying attention to the crowds, but she still remembered to turn regularly so everyone could see her full body. William must have been driving a little faster than normal because it was well before nine when they got back to the fairground. The stage crew was waiting, and as soon as missy was hoisted up into the air, they began setting up a ring directly beneath the cage. They also dragged an ornate wooden spanking bench onto the stage and placed it next to the ring. Missy relaxed back against the bars of her cage. Her first bout was in three hours. She started to stroke herself as she usually did, but her mind was too occupied even for that. "What are my strengths?" she said aloud to herself. In answer to her own question, she began a list. "One, I'm smart." After a very long pause she said, "Damn! There has to be more than that." She started over. "One, I'm smart." She held up a second finger. "Two, I'm relatively young and healthy." After a short pause she added, "Three, I can handle a lot of pain... or pleasure." She was now holding up four fingers on her left hand while the pointer finger of her right hand rhythmically tapped the fourth finger while she repeated over and over again, "Four... four... four..." She gave a deep sigh and said in almost a whisper, "Four, I have nothing to lose." A loud voice from beneath her interrupted her forlorn thoughts. It was Mistress Soo. She was walking across the stage with six naked young women. The fact that all of the women were totally hairless proclaimed them as slaves. The fact that all of them were extremely muscular and in perfect shape proclaimed them to be her wrestlers. "Round one, round three, round four, and round six will be wrestling today," the Mistress said harshly. "I expect you to win. If you don't, you will be sold to the mines to pull ore carts. I can always give another slave your name." The slaves stared silently at her. She put her hands on her hips and snapped, "Is that understood?" All six women replied, "Yes, Mistress Soo, this slave understands." The Mistress then looked up at missy and said, "Don't worry," in an overly sweet voice, "they have orders to not hurt you too badly." She laughed heartily and then suddenly reverted to a very stern face before saying, "That's for me to do in the fifth fight." She laughed again, "... or shortly thereafter," she said between chuckles. Mistress Soo turned and walked off the stage, calling behind her, "Let's get you worthless slaves properly oil so the audience will think you're beautiful." The six naked slaves hurried to catch up with her as she strode across the infield. Missy watched them until they disappeared into a trailer which was set up next to the grandstands. "And what weaknesses do they have?" missy asked herself aloud. Again she answered herself. "None!" she almost yelled. Then she added in a very sad voice. "None at all!" Missy closed her eyes. She wasn't sleeping, she was trying to block out what awaited her. She knew that she was going to lose every match and she was going to be beaten by hand, with a slipper, with a rubber paddle, with a wooden paddle, and finally with a cane. By the end of the day, her ass would be beyond even William's almost magical ointment. Her eyes were still closed when a voice came over the speakers. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. to Day Eight of slave missy's eleven days of punishment. I am Mistress Soo, and I and my stable of naked female wrestlers are presenting the program today. I am also taking personal responsibility for seeing that this worthless slave who claims to be a repentant terrorist is properly punished." Missy looked down from her cage. Mistress Soo was dressed in a long leather dress that nearly reached the floor. It somehow made her look even larger and more menacing. The Mistress looked up at missy and then looked out at the crowd. "In this first match," she explained, "one of my newer slaves, round one,' will wrestle slave missy. The match is over when the winner pins the loser to the mat in any fashion and administers ten swats with her hand." She chuckled in a very ominous way and then added, "I think we all know who will win and whose ass is going to get paddled with the first ten swats of the required forty-six, but since I am refereeing these first four matches, I need to remain neutral." She followed that statement with another deep laugh. Missy's cage slowly lowered into the center of the ring. William stepped through the ropes and unlocked the padlock. When missy stepped out, he removed the collar and chains. "I'm in your corner," he said softly as he stood close to her. "Remember," he added urgently, "play from your strength while you exploit her weakness." He then stepped out of the ring. Mistress Soo came to the center of the ring. She raised both her arms so that she was pointed at the two wrestlers who were standing in their corners. "You come out at the bell," she said, "and you fight until missy I mean, someone gets her ass smacked ten times. Those are the rules." She paused as she looked from missy to round one and back. Then she added slowly, "Those are ALL the rules." She rapidly brought her arms down and a bell rang loudly several times. Round one immediately moved out of her corner to the right. Not really knowing why, missy mirrored her movements. They both slowly circled the ring, spiraling inward until they were no more than an arm's length apart. At that point, round one moved like lightning and grabbed missy, pulling her down to the mat. Missy rolled so she was on her back. Normally that would not be a wise move for a wrestler, but missy wasn't worried about her shoulders being pinned to the mat. She was worried about her ass being swatted by round one's massive hands. Round one slid sideways so that she was on top of missy from the side. She rolled missy slightly up onto her side and leaned in close over her. "When is your next show?" she asked in a whisper. "Twelve-thirty," missy answered softly. "No," round one replied, "not your next match, your next show." "Tomorrow," missy whispered back. "It's another day of punishment." "And Mistress knows that?" "Yes," answered missy. There was a short silence as round one rolled missy over onto her other side. To the crowd it looked like missy was trying to fight back, but in reality, round one was just throwing her wherever she wanted her. "I'll let the others know," round one whispered before lifting missy into the air and flipping her over onto her stomach. It happened so fast that missy wouldn't have had a chance to react even if she knew what to do. She came down between round one's legs. One leg was beneath her and the other was over her back locking her in place. She felt round one pull herself up to almost a sitting position and then the first swat rang out. Missy cried out more in surprise than pain. It hurt. It hurt like mad, but it was nowhere near as bad as it sounded. A second "Smack!" resounded through the arena and the crowd began to cheer. "Scream... loud!" came the whispered command just before the third blow fell. Missy screamed very loud. It was only a little bit exaggerated. Even with her hand cupped so that it made the most noise, round one's smacks hurt! The fourth blow wasn't as hard as the third, but missy intentionally increased her scream in pitch and volume. "It's a show," she said to herself. "The fights are fixed and the punishments are fixed! They might hurt each other, but it's all a performance. They try not to harm each other." Somehow howling as if each smack were excruciatingly painful made it all including the pain unreal for missy. "Their weakness is that for them it is all a show," missy told herself. "And my strength is that I can scream really loud." As soon as the last swat fell, round one rolled out from under missy and stood up in one graceful motion. Missy was left lying face down on the mat. "Get up!" Mistress Soo's stern voice ordered. Missy pushed herself to her knees and then stood up. She looked slightly dazed as she wobbled back to her corner. "Are you OK?" William asked as she steadied herself against the ropes. "Found their weakness," she replied and then laughed slightly at his confusion. "Let's get you back in your cage." he said as he stepped through the ropes. The cage was already at floor level by the time they got to center stage. Missy stepped inside. William put the padlock in place, but did not lock it, and the cage rose to its position above the ring. Missy tenderly stroked her warm and swollen backside. "I'm probably already a pretty shade of red," she thought to herself. "Might as well show it to the audience," she added. "It's what they paid to see." She then assumed her relaxed position with her back against the cage and her feet braced against the bottom of the bars on the other side. This time, however, she was facing away from the grandstands. She moved slightly so that one of the bars rested between the cheeks of her ass. That wasn't the most comfortable position, but it did display her red ass most effectively. "The show must go on," she said softly to herself as she waited for the Mistress to call for the next match. She didn't exactly fall asleep, but she was startled back from her hazy state to full wakefulness by Mistress Soo's voice calling out. "Ladies and gentlemen. Our second match for the day pits my slave round three against our supposed repentant terrorist, slave missy." Slave round three stepped through the ropes and entered the ring. Mistress Soo continued, "I don't think the match itself is going to last very long, but the punishment will last exactly ten strokes with a leather slipper." She laughed and said, "Sometimes the old-fashioned ways are best." Missy's cage finally set down in the center of the ring. William opened the door for her and led her to her corner. The cage was quickly raised out of the way as Mistress Soo stepped to the middle of the ring. Again she pointed at both naked girls and said, "You come out at the bell, and you fight until missy gets her ass slippered. Those are the rules." She then snapped her arms down to her sides as the bell rang announcing the start of the match. Missy started to move sideways as she had done in the first fight, but round three did not move sideways. Instead, she walked straight across the ring and grabbed missy by the upper arms. Falling backward she then pulled missy over herself in an arc, slamming her hard into the mat. Missy's loud "ooomph" was met with laughter from the crowd. She tried to get up, but was instead pulled to her feet by round three who hurled her across the ring so that she bounced off the ropes. When she flew back into the middle of the ring round three caught her and forced her to her knees on the mat. The crowd was roaring and applauding as round three pushed missy's head and shoulders between her legs and fell backward. The result was that missy's breasts were slammed into the mat with round three sitting on her back. Round three's legs, however were around missy's waist with her feet sticking up between missy's legs and sitting firmly on her calves. The result was that missy's ass was held up in the air slightly off the mat and spread wide. Mistress Soo threw a slipper in a high arc to her slave. Round three caught it and slammed it down on missy's ass in one fluid motion. The loud smack echoed through the stands. As the crowd roared, round three continued swinging wildly at missy's rapidly reddening ass. What the audience and Mistress Soo could not see was that every other stroke of the slipper struck the mat between her legs, not missy's flesh. After ten loud smacks it was over. Round three threw the slipper back in the direction of her Mistress and stood up with her hands above her head in a victory dance. She then reached down and pulled missy up to a standing position so that she could display missy's reddened ass to the crowd. As she was turning her in a slow circle so all the crowd could laugh and applaud, she leaned in close and said, "It was the best I could do. I don't want to spend the rest of my life pulling carts in a mine." Missy said a quiet. "Thank you". just before round three flung her back into her corner. William caught her before she could hit the post. "Are you OK?" he asked. "Did that bitch hurt you?" "She's not a bitch," missy replied. "She's just a slave following her Mistress's orders. She did as much for me as she could." William didn't respond. Instead he led missy back to her cage and closed the door so it could once again rise into the air. At one o'clock, Mistress Soo stepped into the ring and announced the next match. Missy would be facing round four. The punishment at the end of the match would be done with a leather paddle. She finished her announcements and the bell rang signaling the beginning of the fight. Round four began circling the ring slowly advancing on missy who tried to mirror her movements as closely as possible. There were many differences between the two slaves. Round four was at least a head taller than missy and significantly heavier. There was no fat on her body. It was all muscle which rippled as she stood on the balls of her feet playing with missy like a cat plays with a mouse before eating it. And missy's fate, like the hapless mouse cornered by a cat, was clear to everyone who watched. The crowd knew that missy would lose. They knew that she would be spanked with the leather paddle. There was never any doubt as to the outcome of the fight. The only question was how long it would last and what position round four would trap missy in for the punishment. That question was soon answered as round four slowly maneuvered missy into one of the corners. Missy hadn't realized what was happening until round four suddenly stood beside her, spun her around, and pushed her front against the post holding the ropes. Round four then stood alongside her facing out, locked an ankle around the back side of the post and reached across missy's back to grab the ropes on the other side of the post, effectively trapping missy against the post standing up. "Paddle!" round four yelled and the Mistress tossed the black leather to her. She caught it by the handle and delivered the first resounding "Smack!" on missy's ass. Missy struggled and screamed, but there was nowhere for her to go. "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" Nine more blows rained down on one ass cheek and then the other. No two landed in the same spot. They were so fast that they were over very quickly. Missy stood screaming in the corner for a moment after the tenth blow had fallen. Round four was already walking back to her own corner, but missy hadn't yet realized that she was no longer held tight to the post. She pushed against the arm that wasn't there an nearly fell to the mat. She then danced and yelped, bouncing up and down and rubbing her very red and very sore ass. It was only partly an act. Every smack had been like being hit with a red-hot piece of metal. They were too fast to prepare for, but despite the pain, it was obvious that the first blow was the hardest and that round four had held back for the remaining nine. William's arms pulled missy into his shoulder as she sobbed and cried. He waited for the shouts and gross comments of the crowd to slowly calm down before leading her back to her cage. As it rose into the air, she once again turned so that the crowd could see her fire-red ass cheeks. She did not, however lean against the bars. It would have been way too painful. For the fourth match, Mistress Soo merely stood in the center and said, "You know the rules, have at it." The bell rang and round six launched herself across the ring at missy and pushed her backwards into the ropes. When she bounced back, round six grabbed her by the arms and flung her across the ring to the ropes on the opposite side. Missy bounced off the ropes even harder than she had before. A loud "oomph!" burst forth from her lips. It wasn't so much that she had screamed, but that the wind had been knocked out of her by the force of the ropes. The crowd roared its approval so the next bounce off the ropes, missy intentionally screamed as loud as she could. She wasn't sure if she was acting, or truly screaming out of fear as round six continued to bounce her off each side of the ring. Round six was laughing loudly, missy was screaming loudly, and the crowd was roaring and clapping as they watch her being thrown around like a doll. Missy was getting light-headed. Between her constant screaming and the ropes forcing what little breath she could take from her body she was close to passing out. Round six once again grabbed her and missy prepared to be launched once more into the ropes. But this time, round six did not let go of her. Instead she ran with her to the other side of the ring and pushed the top of missy's body over the ropes. Missy grabbed the top rope trying to keep from tumbling out of the ring, but round six pushed hard on her back and she spun over the top of the ropes. Missy could feel round six's strong hands on her body. Round six was pushing her forward while at the same time holding her tight to the top rope. Her body rotated over the top rope and came back into the ring above the middle rope. Round six pushed hard against missy's back, continuing the rotation. Everything was a blur to missy's fogged mind, but when she stopped spinning, she was somehow held in place by being twisted between the top two ropes. Her feet were barely on the mat. The lower rope pressed against the front of her ankles, keeping her from unwinding and spinning in the opposite direction of how she became entangled. Round six walked across the ring and took the wooden paddle from Mistress Soo's outstretched hand. She then delivered ten strong, measured swats to missy's ass. Missy didn't start screaming until the sixth blow. That was partly because she was gasping for air before anything began, but mainly it was because her mind was so dazed by what round six had done to her that she really didn't feel the blows until then. Her screams grew in intensity and pitch over the final four loud smacks of the wooden paddle. There was no acting. It was no show. Her ass was on fire and the fire and pain was spreading throughout her body. The pain, and perhaps the force of her screams depleting the rest of the oxygen from her body, caused to her black out. Following the last blow, her screams slowly faded as she slumped over, allowing the twisted rope to bend her body down so that her beet red ass was displayed to the cheering crowd. Round six tried to release missy from the ropes, but without the adrenalin which had been pumping through her body during the fight, she was unable to do so. Round one, three, and four came into the ring and together, they were able to unwind missy and lay her out on her stomach on the mat. Missy could hear William's voice above her. "You've done well," he said softly. "The crowd is starting to be on your side." He chuckled sightly. It was a very dry laugh, devoid of humor. More of a statement of hope than mirth. "But I don't think its enough to force Mistress Soo to go easy on you." There was no laugh or any other emotion in his voice as he said, "I'm sorry, missy. I didn't want this to happen." By the time William had helped missy to her feet, her cage had already descended to the floor. She was very shaky as she walked over to the cage. As he helped her enter, he said bitterly, "I don't know why, but I think this is really against me. I must have pissed Mistress Soo off somewhere along the line and this is her way of getting back at me." He slammed the door shut. "She is a manipulative, sadistic bitch," he spat out. "All of this was just her way of making sure that you were too tired and too sore to do anything when she got into the ring. She plans everything, and everything always goes exactly as she has it planned." William stepped back from the cage as it rose into the air. "Thanks for the pep talk," missy said softly. "You could have at least kept up the pretense and told me to use my strengths to attack her weakness." Missy watched as Mistress Soo carefully inspected the ring. She tested each of the ropes and stomped her foot on the mat in several places. Then she went over and carefully inspected restraints on the spanking make that caning bench. "What are your strengths?" missy thought as she watched the Mistress very carefully check her preparations. "One," she said aloud, "you are very well-prepared for anything." Watching for a few minutes more she added, "Two, you are bigger and more muscular than me." Holding up her fingers to count she said, "And three... three... three.... What else do you have that I don't have I mean besides hair?" Missy fell totally silent with her eyes open wide as she stared down at the Mistress. "Hair!" she said excitedly to herself. "She has hair! If that tight bun were undone her hair would probably hang at least to her waist." Missy clapped her hands together and bounced up and down as she said aloud, "That's not a strength. That's a weakness! Now all I have to do is figure out how to use my strengths against her... if I have any." "I have to give this a lot of thought," she said to herself as she turned in her cage. Without really thinking about it she leaned back against the bars and braced her feet against the bottom of the bars on the opposite side. The crowd began applauding the display of her dark red and swollen ass cheeks, but missy didn't notice. She was trying to find a strength that she could use against the Mistress's weakness. She was still thinking when her cage began to descend into the ring. No one was in the ring when her cage touched the floor. William stepped through the ropes and opened the door to her cage. His face was even more red with anger than it had been when he helped her into the cage twenty minutes before. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You'll find out soon enough," he said through clenched teeth. "But I think I have a plan," she said, trying not to sound desperate. "I need to know what is going to happen." "That damn bitch has set up this last fight as a spike pin match." he answered. "What's that?" she asked. He reached down into a small bag sitting in her corner and pulled out a strange looking anal plug with a long handle. The tip was longer than normal and ended in an almost sharp point. There was the normal wide point followed by a thin shaft, but that shaft was followed by a flat circle of hard rubber about four inches across. The whole thing was supported on a stout handle that looked almost like the handlebar grip on a motorcycle. "This," he said, "is a spike." He handed it too her. "The bout isn't over until one of you rams this up the other fighter's ass." He looked over at the caning bench. "The Mistress has hired six security guards to grab you as soon as you are spiked and take you over to the caning bench. I don't know if she is planning to cane you with the spike in place or not." He spit on the stage floor outside the ring. Missy had seen him that upset only once before. "She has also arranged with the judge for you technically for the loser of the match to spend an hour of display restrained on the caning bench, so I'm betting she will leave it in place." "Oh," was all missy could say. William laid his hand on her shoulder and said softly, "You will get through this somehow. And someday you we will have our revenge." "Thanks," missy said as she studied the strange anal spike. The audience was starting to get anxious. The buzz of conversation was becoming louder and louder as they began to wonder what was holding up the show. Suddenly an announcer's voice boomed out of the sound system. "Ladies and gentlemen," the man said. "Today you are going to witness something that very rarely happens. Today, for your pleasure... and hers..., Mistress Soo, herself, is going to enter the ring as a contestant in this fight." As he spoke, Mistress Soo strode out onto the stage. She was wearing a black silk robe with the name "Soo" in white letters on the back. She dropped the robe ringside and stepped through the ropes. Her naked and oiled body shone in perfection as she intentionally flexed her muscles for the roaring crowd. The well-trimmed thatch of dark black hair between her legs proclaimed her to be a free woman. "To make this bout even more special today," the announcer continued, "Mistress Soo has arranged for this match to be a spike pin match." He paused to let the loud "Ohhh's" from the crowd fade slightly before explaining. "For those of you who have never witnessed a spike pin match, this bout doesn't end when your opponent's shoulders are pinned to the mat. This match ends when your spike is forced into your opponent's asshole." He had to again pause for the cheers and yells of the crowd to fade away. "Our crew will now make sure that the spikes are properly lubricated. The match will then begin when the bell rings." Missy stood bouncing in her corner. "Her weakness is her hair, but what is my strength? ... What is my strength? What is my strength? One of the Mistress's crew came over to her corner with a tube of the baby oil gel like she normally used to grease her body. He squeezed a large glop of the greasy gel onto the spike and then rubbed it all over the anal plug portion. After putting another glop on the tip of the spike, he cautioned, "Make sure you don't get that on your hands. It slippery. It could cause you to lose." "I don't think it will make much difference," she replied with a crooked smile. "I've already effectively lost. I have nothing left to lose." "That's my strength," she said loudly, startling the crewman. "I have nothing to lose." The bell rang at that point and missy exploded out of her corner in a dead run. Mistress Soo stood frozen in surprise as she looked at missy in amazement. There was no purpose to this attack. Missy couldn't hope to knock her over no matter how hard she hit her. The Mistress braced her legs in preparation for deflecting missy and knocking her to the mat. But missy still had more surprises for Mistress Soo. The Mistress expected missy to tackle her legs, but instead missy launched herself into the air like a lover welcoming her man home from a long trip. She landed flat against the Mistresses upper body and quickly wrapped her legs around the Mistresses waist with her arms around her neck. "That was stupid!" the Mistress yelled as she brought the spike up, intending to drive it home and end the match almost before it began. Missy's ass was hanging open and very vulnerable at Soo's waist level, but a moving target is very hard to hit. Missy threw herself violently back and forth to keep the spike from finding its target. All the while, her free hand, and the fingers she could spare in the other hand while holding the spike, were clawing at the tightly packed bun of hair on Mistress Soo's head. The Mistress was too intent on spiking missy's ass to notice that her hair was coming unraveled. First a few dark black strands hung down her back and then the entire bun unwrapped so that a full head of shiny black hair covered the Mistress's back. That is when missy grabbed hold of the that hair with all her might and unlocked her legs from around the Mistress's waist. She pushed against Mistress Soo's thighs with her feet and pushed herself back with all of her strength. The combination of surprise, pain, and leverage pulled the Mistress forward off her feet. She landed with a loud "Thud!" face down on the mat with missy laying face down on her back. Anger and adrenalin are a powerful combination. Missy drove her spike home in one fluid motion. The Mistress's scream was loud enough to be heard even over the excited roaring of the crowd. Missy jumped up and ran back to her corner. She wasn't sure what Mistress Soo might do to her. Her fears were unjustified, however. The six burly security men which the Mistress had hired to drag missy to the caning frame swarmed into the ring and overpowered her. "No, no NO!" she screamed. "This isn't how it is supposed to be!" "We go by our contract," snapped one of the men as the Mistress tried to scratch his face. "And our contract says to put the loser on the bench." Another of the men shouted out, "You lost, bitch!" Evidently William wasn't the only person who didn't like Mistress Soo. After Mistress Soo was firmly restrained on the caning bench, one of the men returned to the ring with a long, flexible cane and handed it to missy. A crewman stood next to him holding a microphone. "I am a penal slave," missy said quietly. "I am forbidden to strike a free woman." She then smiled broadly, "So my Master will have to swing the cane." William was now beside her and the crewman handed him the cane. "I am, however, allowed to count the strokes," missy added, her own smile now practically splitting her face. Both walked over to where the Mistress's ass was held up in the best position for caning. It was also the best position for the audience to have a perfect view of her impalement. The Mistress, meanwhile, was screaming out a litany of obscenities as they got into position. William whipped the cane back and forth several times so that it buzzed like an angry bee. Then he circled it with his wrist and brought it down just above the handle of the spike which was still sticking out of Mistress Soo's ass. "Aiiieeee!" she screamed. Then she began cursing William directly. "Mister Wilson, you son of a bitch," she yelled, "I will get your pompous white ass if it takes me the rest of my life." William merely smiled and laid another stroke across her ass, this time, just below the handle of the spike. Her scream was slightly louder and much longer. She began to combine swear words in ways that most of the audience had never heard before. The third stroke was again above the handle, about a quarter inch above the first strike. Her scream blended into her curse words and she began to include missy in her threats. The audience laughed when she promised missy that she would "snatch you bald." Their laughter increased when missy reached up and rubbed her hand across her hairless head. William gently placed the cane against the Mistress's ass to let her know where the next stroke was going to land. If he was accurate in his prediction, a new welt would appear a quarter inch below the bottom stripe currently on her ass. His aim was exact. The new welt appeared and the Mistress wiggled her ass in pain and screamed even louder than before. Surprisingly, her vituperation then switched into Spanish. William stood still staring at her ass. His mouth was working, but no words were coming out. Then he yelled loudly, "Juanita Saunders!" He turned to missy and said, "This bitch skipped bail about eight years ago and my investigators tracked her down. I personally brought her back. They tripled her bail. I wouldn't cover it. Neither would any of the other bail bondsmen. Hell, none of us would have covered it if they cut it in half." He pointed the cane at her and added, "She conned some sucker into putting up his house. He thought she loved him. Trusting her cost him his house." He swung once again at her ass. It was obvious that there was much more force behind this swing than there was before. The power did not decrease his accuracy. A new welt, trickling blood, formed just above the top stripe. Juanita was now thrashing so violently that it looked like she might tear the restraints loose from the bench. Screams and grunts took the place of her swearing. William walked around so he could look at her face. "The oriental outfit had me fooled," he said. "I thought you looked familiar, but I just couldn't place you." He was whipping the cane back and forth under her face. "I know you bribed or blackmailed the judge to get your show put on here. But once he knows you are just Juanita Saunders and that you have who knows how many warrants out there for your arrest, he will put your ass in jail." She tried to spit at him, but he backed up slightly and said slowly, "The next time you appear out here," he said grimly, "it is likely you will be as one of the naked wrestlers rather than the ringmaster." The six wrestler-slaves had gathered behind William. One of them said loudly, "No! Send her to the mines to pull the carts like she has done to so many of us. I'm sure she will receive a warm welcome there." "You hear that, Juanita?" he asked as he walked back around the caning bench. "See how much they love you?" He slammed the cane one last time into her ass. She wailed and thrashed for several seconds, but said nothing else. When she had quieted down, he lay the cane carefully across the top of her ass and said pleasantly, "You just hang out here for a while, Juanita. I have a phone call to make." William walked back to missy and said, "Technically, she is taking your place on display so you don't really have to go back up in the cage." Missy smiled and replied, "And miss the chance to stare down at her while the crowd insults her and takes pictures of her bleeding ass? Not on your life." The cage was already on the floor of the ring. Missy stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind herself. As she hung above the ring, missy alternated between stroking herself and pressing her ass against the front bars so the people could see how red it had become. During the display hour, the crew disassembled the ring and removed it. At the end of the hour, missy was able to watch from above as two sheriff's deputies walked up onto the stage and released Juanita Saunders from her restraints. They turned her around and cuffed her hands behind her back. They then led her off-stage without removing the anal spike, leaving missy and any remaining audience members wondering how she was going to sit down in the squad car. Shortly thereafter, William drove up onto the stage and the cage was lowered into place on the trailer. Missy ran her hands lightly over her ass cheeks. She could feel the heat and swelling from the four beatings, but the pain was gone, or at least it was overwhelmed by the feelings that came from having defeated Mistress Soo in the ring. When they got back to the RV, William told her to clean up and lay face down on the bed and he would smear the ointment on her cuts and bruises. She almost told him it wasn't necessary, but then she remembered how good William's hands could feel on her body. "I may need a little more than that," she said with a smile. William laughed and said, "When I do a second application on at bedtime. OK?" "OK," she laughed. Then she looked at William bouncing slightly up and down. "We won. We won. I beat her!" "That you did, missy," William replied. "That you did." = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END CHAPTER TEN OF THIRTEEN = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Chapter Summaries Chapter One: Vicki LeClaire is convicted of all charges. A sentencing agreement is negotiated by William Wilson, a professional slave sentence negotiator. This chapter primarily sets the scene for the rest of the book. Once that is done, the action near the end centers around public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Two: Vicki's "Day of Repentance" and her humiliating descent into slavery, including being renamed as slave missy. This chapter centers primarily on public nudity and public humiliation. Chapter Three: The first of missy's 11 days of public punishment. On this first day of punishment, Master Hiroya Takahashi demonstrates properly-trained pony girls, and instructs missy on the proper way to receive a punishment spanking. The focus of this chapter is pony girls and public spanking. Chapter Four: The second day of punishment begins with a flogging contest by a company called Judicial Placements Incorporated. Her negotiator... and new Master, William Wilson, flogs missy the required forty-six times to fulfill the terms of her sentence. This chapter is totally focused on non-consensual flogging. Chapter Five: Slave missy's third day of punishment. She is once again subject to a spanking, this time by the head of a private girls' reformatory. Before her spanking, several of the young women from the reformatory also receive public punishment. This is a spanking chapter with bare hand, slipper, paddle, and leather belt. Chapter Six: The fourth day. On this day of punishment, she is caned... by a robot, or more accurately, by a computer-driven mechanical spanking machine. Before her caning, James Madison demonstrates his company's machines. This chapter focuses on mechanical flogging, paddling, and caning. It also delves into self-bondage and pain-pleasure. Chapter Seven: The fifth day. Slave missy is punished by water combined with heat, cold, and electricity. This chapter focuses on various types of water punishment. Chapter Eight: On the sixth day of her punishment, missy is introduced to "The Whipmaster." Before punishing her he provides a demonstration of his abilities. The chapter is focused on public nudity, public humiliation, and public flogging of one sort or another. Chapter Nine: The seventh day for slave missy is a day for electro-punishment. Slave missy becomes part of the vidshow, "Wheel of Pleasure, Wheel of Pain." Chapter Ten: The eighth day introduces a unique punishment punishment by combat. There is also an undercard of slave wrestling with humiliation and pain in store for the loser. Chapter Eleven: The ninth day of punishment is a lottery. The public is given the chance to paddle the repentant terrorist. Eight lucky winners each get to give her five swats with a special paddle. One lucky winner gets to finish the forty-six required for her punishment by laying six swats of the paddle across missy's ass. The undercard is also part of the lottery. Three slaves in need of punishment will each receive 20 swats, again with one lottery winner delivering 5 of those swats. In addition there are two volunteers. One is a male member of the stage crew who is coming out as a pain slut. The other is a woman who has been at every performance so far and wants to experience public punishment and humiliation. Hers is a special case and her husband will deliver however many swats it takes to make her cum. Twenty-five winners were chosen to participate. Each was asked to write a short essay saying why they should be the one to deliver the final six to the repentant terrorist. The winner finishes off missy. Chapter Twelve: This tenth day returns missy to old school punishment as she receives an old- fashioned caning. There is also a contest between slaves to see who can withstand the most strokes of the cane. Chapter Thirteen: (Last Chapter) Slave missy finally reaches her final day of punishment. After having been punished by hand, slipper, paddle, cane, water, and electricity, missy is punished with pleasure. She is strapped into a high-tech denial/teasing/edging device and taken to the very brink of orgasm 46 times.

Diary of a Pain Slut - Week One of Five Maddi has to keep a diary as part of court-ordered therapy By The Technician Female Exhibitionist, Self-Bondage, Public Nudity, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Public Orgasm, Spanking, Whipping, Electro-Sex, Oral, Anal = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = When Maddi Miller gets caught doing naked self-bondage under an interstate bridge, the police take her to the psych ward of the local hospital. She is released but has to keep a diary as part of her thirty day evaluation and submit it to her therapist at the end of each week. This is week one of that diary. There are five weeks, each more or less stands on its own, but makes more sense if you have read the previous weeks. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2014 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Maddi's Diary, Day One My full name is Madison Miller, but everybody calls me Maddi. This is day one of my thirty-day journal or diary or whatever you want to call it that is a part of my court-ordered counseling and evaluation. Dr. Bergenstein said I have to take time at the end of each day to record my thoughts and feelings about the day. Then every Sunday night I am supposed to log onto a special website and send him what I wrote. I can add a video message to him if I want to. Or I could even log in every night and do the whole thing into my webcam, but Dr. B said he prefers that I take the time to write it down. He says that taking the time to write it down will cause me to think more about it. He also said that some of the things I write he will bring up in group or, if it is confidential, at our individual sessions. Group is on Fridays, and I meet with Dr. B individually on Mondays and Wednesdays for at least the next thirty days. I really don't want to do any of this, but it's this or a thirty-day in-patient observation at the state psychiatric facility. They think I'm nuts, but I'm not. I'm just a pain slut. That means that I'm sort of addicted to pain. If I were an adrenalin junkie and spent all my time riding roller coasters over at the big amusement park up by the lake, they wouldn't think anything of it. But because my thrill of choice involves pain and sex, they think I am nuts. Maybe it would be a little different if I were addicted to something destructive like drugs or alcohol or even cigarettes. And I could see their concern if my addiction involved hurting other people who didn't want to be hurt or messing with little children or something like that. But the only one hurting is me. And I make sure that I'm not putting myself or anyone else in danger. Well, ok, major danger. A degree of danger is part of the fun, but a lot of things are dangerous. People don't get locked up for skydiving or mountain climbing or being a professional car or motorcycle racer. Those are dangerous, too. This all started last Thursday night when the police found me tied naked between the support pillars of the underpass out on Miller Road where it goes beneath the interstate. Miller Road is a farm to market road that doesn't have an exit, so it just goes under the interstate and eventually winds its way into town. There isn't all that much traffic on that road at night, but one of the dozen or so cars that had passed by must have seen me and called 911. A couple of county mounties showed up all lights and sirens and guns drawn like they were taking down America's number one terrorist, but all they found was me standing there naked. Their first question after they cut me down was "Who did this to you?" When I said "Nobody," they looked at me really strangely. When they figured out what all my equipment was for, and that I had done this to myself, they wrapped me in a blanket and took me to the psych ward at the hospital up in the city. I know what I was doing was breaking the law. I know that they could have, and probably should have, charged me with public indecency. I was, after all, naked in public. But they didn't do that. They locked me in the back of their car and took me to the looney bin. That's where Dr. Bergenstein got involved. I'm here for 72 hours. I'm in what they call a "transition ward," which is pretty much like a regular hospital ward except the door at the end of the hallway is locked. They gave me back my laptop and cell phone once they put me in this almost regular room, so it isn't too bad. When they let me out Monday morning, I will have to come back three times a week for the next thirty days. Dr. B says he can extend that to forty-five days with just his signature and up to six months by calling the judge. Then he added, "So, you better take this seriously and continue with the program when you get home." Yes, Dr. B, I am taking this very seriously. BRB Back Just texted Dr B to ask if it was OK to share these writings with others. He called me back and answered, "The rules of confidentiality say that I can't share them with anybody. But you can share them with anybody you like. You can even post them on the internet if that's what you want to do." :-) I told him that's exactly what I am going to do! :-) Dr. B didn't think I was serious at first, but when he realized that I meant it, he said I should wait until he releases me to post anything and that I really should show everything to him first. He said sharing it with a couple of close friends might be helpful. And I have the right to post whatever I want, wherever I want, whenever I want, but he feels obligated to make sure I know the ramifications of what I will be telling the entire world, including my parents... and the police. OK, back to my ramblings. I'm supposed to start out by giving the background story of what brought me to this point. I guess the best place to start would actually be last night. When they found me last night, I was on a ledge alongside the highway stretched out in a naked X facing away from the road. There used to be a big, steep hill on the old highway, but when they put in the interstate they cut off the hills and filled in the valleys. At the point where Miller Road goes under the interstate, they built it up quite a bit so the bridge above the underpass is pretty far up there. There is a wide shoulder area on either side of the highway and then a straight up concrete wall about eight feet high. From there, two large, square pillars go up to support each lane of the interstate. Actually, the pillars go all the way to the bottom, but the wall fills in the space between them. Concrete slants upward from the top of the wall to bottom of the roadway at the end of the bridge. On the outside of the underpass, concrete slants downward to road level. With a little determination, it's possible to climb up the slanted concrete and get to the ledge between the pillars. That is what I had done. There are four pillars on each side of the road, two for each direction of the interstate. The space between the outer two pillars is really wide because there are two lanes up there on the interstate, but the space between the inner two pillars is just the distance between the two bridges, and that's exactly the right size. That area is also open to the sky above, so being up there is like standing out in the open totally naked. I can see the sky above me and hear the constant zoom of the traffic passing by overhead. As I was standing there, I was wondering what those truckers would think if they could see that far over the railing on the bridge. I was also hoping that they really couldn't see me. I didn't want to cause an accident or anything like that. The idea to do this came to me last summer when they were repainting the steel on the underside of the bridge. They put a big iron band around the pillars at the very bottom and second one near the top a few feet below the interstate. There were large eyebolt-like rings on each corner of the band. They used those rings to stretch out cables that held huge tarps over the roadway and down between the columns. It was evidently intended to protect any cars that might be driving on the lower road from their sandblasting or spray painting or whatever. When the project was finished, they took down the cables and tarps, but they left the bands... and the rings. All summer I watched them sandblast and paint that bridge. After they left, those rings called to me all winter as I drove back and forth under that overpass on my way to class at the local community college. The call of those rings got even louder as the weather grew warmer and I was driving to my waitress job in town. Finally, I knew that I had to act. I have been practicing self-bondage at home for a couple of years and have done some minor almost-public stuff in the park or out on country roads. You would be amazed how isolated it is in the middle of a cornfield in August. I live with my parents, but my dad is an over-the-road trucker and the company mom works for sends her all over the state to train people how to use their products. She's gone a couple of days every week and all week a lot of the time. So, I have the house to myself most weekdays... and nights, and even occasional weekends. Over the years I have acquired some really neat equipment including timers and computer controls and padded cuffs and all of that. How a struggling community college student could afford to buy such an extensive collection of toys is a story for a different time. How I got it all set up and learned how to use it properly is very simple. Geek boys will do anything for sex. And I will do almost anything to get a proper pain fix. Harold, my favorite nerd, isn't too bad in bed. He is my personal techie and the one who put the equipment together for my roadside adventure. He even went out to the overpass earlier in the day and put the ropes through the rings at the top and bottom of the columns and hauled the heavy battery powered come-a-long style winches up onto the ledge. By the time I got there after dark, all I had to do was set up the equipment that was connected to me, connect the ropes to my wrist and ankle restraints, and trigger the program on the computer. The equipment consisted of the come-a-longs that tightened the ropes, a laptop computer, a couple of TENS units, and several light sensors. Harold was my safety. He was supposed to come by just before dawn and take down the ropes and winches. I told him I would give him a blowjob when he brought the equipment back to me. I also told him that if I hadn't gotten free by the time he got there, he could fuck me in the ass right where I stood. I was pretty sure that I would be able to get free, but if I didn't, it would be worth getting screwed in the ass to see how Harold was able to stand behind me on that thin ledge to do it. The way it worked was this. Once I was in place, I triggered the program on the computer and it pulled the ropes tight with the winches... and I mean tight. I was stretched out almost like I was on a rack. Then, whenever a car came down the road, it would trigger one of the light sensors and the computer would start the TENS units. I had an electrode in my ass, top hat electrodes on my nipples, a clip electrode on my clit, and several patch electrodes up and down my legs and ass and on my stomach. Each pulse from the TENS unit corresponded to a very tiny loosening of the winch's pull on the ropes. The pulses started out in the leg patches and after a certain number of zaps, the stomach patches kicked in and then the tit and ass circuit and finally the clit buzzer went off. The pulses also got a little stronger with each pulse. I had a safety switch in my hand that turned off the shocks if they got too severe. All I had to do was let go of the switch, but it was going to take a thousand or so pulses before the ropes were loose enough for me to get loose. And like I said there really aren't all that many cars on Miller Road at night. About a dozen cars had passed by. For the first couple, I stopped things shortly after it started zapping my nipples. On the next car, I let it go all the way to hitting me in the clit. I really should have thought more about the fact that the intensity would be way up there before the clit clip kicked in. The first time it activated, I screamed loud enough to be heard even with the ball gag in my mouth and I peed myself. I might have even dirtied myself if I hadn't had a butt plug in my ass that was held in place with a leather strap. The next time, I was a little more ready for it, but I still yelled. It hurt like mad, but I held that switch down for twenty shocks after it hit my clit. I counted every one of them. It pulses about once every half second, so that was around ten seconds at that level. I think the TENS unit actually got to maximum somewhere around the fifteenth shock. After I finally released the button, I stood there crying and begging the computer to let me go. It couldn't really hear me well, actually it could. There was a high quality web cam facing me and recording everything so Harold could edit it later. He gets to watch the raw video and then he does his electronic magic and obscures my face and edits it down to the interesting parts. He has a friend who has a friend who runs a porn website and they pay fairly well for good quality "amateur" pain videos. They also pay really well for stuff we do from my "studio," but that is a story for another time. As I was begging the computer to let me go, my pain buddies arrived. That's what I call the endorphin rush I get from pain in a sexual situation. The situation has to be sexual to begin with or the pain is just pain. But if the situation is sexual like being tied up naked in public, then the pain brings the E buddies, and the E buddies heighten the sexual feelings which enable me to take more pain which brings more E buddies... well, you get the idea. Under the right circumstances, I can have wonderful orgasms from the pain alone. If you add additional sexual stimulation to that... WOW! By two in the morning when the police arrived, the ropes on my arms were getting pretty loose and after a car passed by, I wasn't releasing the safety button until I lost my grip on it during the intense orgasm. Had another car or two gone past before the cops got there, I might have been gone. Or then again, I might have just stood up there and waited for one more glorious, pain- induced orgasm. Oh, oh. That's the lights out chime. We're supposed to go to bed when that comes over the intercoms. I'll have to write more tomorrow. End of entry for Day One. Maddi's Diary, Day Two Have you ever seen the porn classic movie "The Devil in Miss Jones"? Because she has a totally crappy life, Justine Jones commits suicide and gets sent to hell. Because she had led a basically good, but really lousy life, she is put in Hell's equivalent of a transition unit in one of the upper levels of hell... sorry about that Dr. B, but you said to share my feelings. Anyway, the Devil offers her a chance to go back to earth for a certain time and really earn her place in hell. She gets to choose from any of the mortal sins and, since it is a porn film, she chooses lust. The rest of the film is her experiencing every type of forbidden sexual pleasure. Then she goes back to hell. She is put in a room with an unresponsive imbecile who just sits in the corner and stares at the walls. Having tasted the true pleasures of lust, she is incredibly horny. She tries to get herself off, but can't do it by herself. The film ends with her pleading with the catatonic man to fuck her or rub her or do ANYTHING to her, and then with her pleading with the Devil to just allow her to cum. She is now truly in hell. Care to guess why I am thinking of that story? There are video cameras EVERYWHERE! And Dr. B explained that uncontrolled masturbation or any self-inflicted pain of any sort would get me an automatic thirty-day visit to the state psych facility. It's not that I need to pop my cork every day. I have gone days or even weeks without even attempting an orgasm. It's that I can't do it. Orgasm is forbidden here! If Dr. B had said, "You can jill yourself off twenty times a day if you want to," I probably would just play cards with the nuts over in the corner or see what was interesting on the web. But because it is forbidden, my cunt itches like mad and my clit is screaming to be touched. I really want to say "The Hell with it!" and get myself off, but if I get sent downstate for thirty days, I really will end up nuts. Maybe the forbidden is part of what pulled me into pain, but I don't think so. My fascination with pain sex started a few years back with a couple of nights where I was really lonely and really horny. I was lonely because we live way out in the country and mom and dad were both gone. I was horny because I was a teen-aged girl. What else is a lonely, horny, 18 year old girl supposed to do out in the middle of nowhere? I took matters into my own hands, so-to-speak. It was supposed to just be some good-old-fashioned self-satisfaction, but it wasn't working. Oh, it felt good. I had several different vibrators of various sizes and shapes, and they all feel good. But I wasn't looking for feeling good. I was looking for that over the top explosion and release. Geez, I almost sound like a guy there, but it was the truth. I really needed to pop my cork, and jilling off wasn't working. I had downed a couple of glasses of wine to put me in the mood before I started, and my buzzing plastic friend was trying its best, but it wasn't getting me where I needed to be. Then I reached up to stroke my breast. That doesn't really work either. I guess trying to stroke your own breast is sort of like trying to tickle yourself. Somebody else has to do it. You can't really do it to yourself. I squeezed my left boob lightly and that sort of felt good. Then I pinched my nipple... hard. That worked! I felt something between my legs when I did that. I pinched again and it was like a strong electric shock went through my clit. I pinched and twisted and the electricity got even stronger. Then I reached up with my other hand and grabbed my other nipple. The electricity grew stronger, but soon it rapidly faded. With both hands on my nipples, there was nothing holding my plastic friend in the right spot. I needed a third hand... or at least I needed something else to hold the vibrator in place or to pinch my nipples. Driven by need and necessity, I started looking around my bedroom, but there was nothing that looked useful. Then I remembered pictures I had seen on-line of women with clothespins on their breasts and nipples. I hurried downstairs to the laundry room and grabbed my mother's old bag of clothespins that she used to use back when she had to hang up clothes outside. I grabbed a handful of them and scurried back upstairs. I lay back down on the bed, put one on either side of each nipple, clamping down on the aerole and then pushed my vibrator back into my cunt. I was stroking it slowly in and out and then pulling it out far enough to run it over my clit. This was working. I was getting there. But I wanted more. I reached up and pinched and twisted my left nipple. "Aieeeee!" I think the neighbors heard me when I screamed. It was unbelievably painful because my nipple was so sensitive, but at the same time, it was unbelievably wonderful. I pinched the right nipple and screamed even louder. This was definitely taking me toward the explosion I was seeking. I started pumping harder with my vibrator and at the same time reached down onto the bed and picked up another clothespin. This one I put directly on my nipple, just barely clipping it onto the tip so that it clamped down on the most sensitive area. I wasn't even able to scream. The sensations were overwhelming. It was pain. Oh, it was pain, but it was pleasure at the same time, and behind it all there was... something. I learned later that the "something" was my body pumping endorphins into me from the combination of pain and pleasure. I didn't know that at the time. All I knew was that it felt really, really good and was promising to feel even better. I drove my vibrator in and out of my cunt like it was a jackhammer. I was getting close. Time for the second clothespin. I could barely control my hand enough to get the clothespin to my breast. I tried to put it out on the tip just like the other one, but my hand was shaking too much and I put it on all the way so that the pin was actually pinching just behind the nipple itself. That wasn't as intense as the other nipple, but it was enough. The whole world exploded. I thrashed around violently on the bed. This was the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced. I was far from being a virgin. I had gone over the top with several men and a couple of women, but nothing I had previously experienced came anywhere close to this. I don't know if I squirted or peed myself or just ran that much juice, but my sheet was sopping wet beneath me and my ass was making wet smacking sounds as I bounced around on the bed. I lay there panting as the world slowly stopped spinning. Then I could feel the pressure on my tits and reached up to release the clothespins. This time I was sure that the neighbors heard my scream as I pulled all three of them off my left breast with one quick motion. I clenched my jaw tightly shut and released each of the pins on my right breast individually. Doing it slowly didn't make it any less painful. I lay on the bed massaging my breasts until the deep dimples caused by the clothespins slowly disappeared, and then... and then... and then I put the clothespins back in place, making sure that the one on my right breast was also way out on the tip so that it tightly pinched that most sensitive area. And I started rubbing myself. I left the vibrator lying on the bed next to me, humming softly. I didn't really need it. But I did need the pain. I wanted the pain. I loved the pain. And with the pain from my nipples egging me on, I exploded once again into a mind-shattering orgasm. This time after the world stopped spinning, I reached up with both hands and pulled all six clothespins off my breasts all at once. I screamed from the unbelievable pain, but it was still a good pain because it was part of the sensations that had given me such unbelievable pleasure. From that night on, almost every night that I had the house to myself, me and my plastic friend and my bag of clothespins would have a little pain party in my bedroom. I also started searching the internet for pain stuff. From the stories and the pictures, I found out that humiliation had the same effect as pain for some people. And for a few special people, the combination of pain and humiliation could bring about extreme sexual pleasure. I decided to find out for myself. One Friday night when my parents were both out of town for the weekend, I took my clothespins with me in my purse and went out bar hopping. Shirley and Vicki and I go out bar hopping about once a month or so, but they weren't with me that night. None of my girlfriends were with me. And I guess I can't really call it bar hopping since I was going to only one bar, The Grease Pit. The Grease Pit was located right next to the entrance to the race track. It had been around forever and looked like it. The sign with the name showed somebody in a grease pit, one of those old fashioned trenches beneath a car that they used to have in service stations. The sign was so weathered that you could barely see the image, and even if you could, most people my age wouldn't know what it was. I only did because my dad had one next to the shed so he could grease his truck. The Pit wasn't quite a dive, but it was close... very close. It wasn't quite a biker bar either, but on any given night there were probably as many vehicles with two wheels parked out front as there were ones with four. A girl went to The Grease Pit alone for one of two reasons. She was from out of town and lost, or she was looking to get laid. I was a local; I was alone; and I was dressed pretty slutty, so it was very obvious that I was looking to get laid. Several different men tried to pick me up, but I brushed them off. I knew exactly who I was looking for, and that somebody was Brad Summers. Brad had a reputation for being kinky. I had once watched him order a girl who insulted him to get over his lap. She did, and he spanked her ass right there in The Grease Pit. As she kicked and screamed, her short dress rode up over her ass cheeks exposing them and the skimpy thong she was wearing to everyone in the bar. Brad whaled away until her ass was starting to turn purple and she was crying and begging for him to stop. She went to the police the next morning, but he hadn't done anything sexual to her and she had willingly placed herself over his lap, so there was nothing they could do. Brad had the hots for me, and was always hanging around us when we slummed at the Pit. I had slapped his face a while back when he tried to pick me up. I told him to get the hell away from me and yelled that I would never go out with a neanderthal like him. He told me that he was going to make me very sorry for that one day. Yes, Brad was definitely the one I was looking for if I wanted pain and humiliation. Brad was almost always at the Pit from about nine o'clock on every Friday night, but tonight he wasn't showing. I decided to wait for him, and sat there by myself in a booth for several hours sipping on bourbon and cokes and fending off various bar flies who wanted to take me home... or out into the parking lot... or just back into the bathrooms. I lost count of how many drinks I had, but I knew that I was in no shape to attempt to drive home. It was almost two am and getting close to closing. I was starting to think that I would have to take up one of the barflies on their offer when Brad walked in. He looked upset. Someone called out, "Where's Jill?" "That didn't work out," he answered curtly and then ordered a double Jack, neat, at the bar. I immediately slid out of the booth and staggered over to sit next to him. "What do you want?" he snarled. I put the clothespins on the bar in front of him and said "I want you to spank my ass until I can't scream anymore and then take me somewhere and screw my brains out while these are clamped on my tits." I don't know if that was what I had been planning on saying, but it was what I wanted. My voice was pretty slurred from the drinks. So was my mind, I guess, because I said what I said loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear me. Brad got up off the barstool and pulled a chair out into the center of the room. "If any of it happens here, it all happens here," he said. Then he pointed his finger at me and said loud enough for everyone to hear, "If you meant what you said, get naked, put those clothespins on your tits and lay down over my lap. After I have warmed you up enough, I will fuck you senseless right there on the pool table." Then he turned to the bartender and said, "Tommy, you'd better lock the front door a little early tonight." Turning back to me he said, "If you're leaving, you'd better go before he locks the door. If not, get your ass over here." In response I stepped out of my high heels and slid my dress to the floor. I hadn't worn any panties under it. I think I had been looking forward to having to show my naked ass to everyone in the bar as I squirmed under the spanking, but this was even better. I was so humiliated and ashamed, but at the same time I couldn't believe how turned on this was making me. I pulled off my top and stood naked in front of everyone. God, how could I actually be doing this? "Over here," Brad said playfully as he tapped his upper leg. I walked over to where he was sitting and stood next to him. "Do you really want this?" he asked. "I don't want you calling the cops tomorrow morning and saying I forced you." In response, I began clipping the clothespins on my breasts. I had ten of them with me. I started with two just on either side of each nipple. Then I put two more outside of them right on the edge of the aerole. After I had eight of them in place, I turned around slowly so that everyone in the bar could see what I had done. Someone started clapping and soon the whole bar was filled with the sound of applause. What I was doing suddenly penetrated through my alcohol-soaked brain and I felt slightly afraid, but more than that, I realized that these were all people who knew me. How could I ever face them again after doing this? The shame and humiliation was overwhelming, but it was doing exactly what I had hoped it would do. I had been running juices down the inside of my thighs before I put the first clothespin in place, but now, I was absolutely gushing. I held up the next clothespin and then very carefully clipped it to the very tip of my left breast. That brought another round of applause and another flood of juice from my pussy. I repeated my actions with the clip for my right breast, and then draped myself over his legs. This combination of pain and humiliation was definitely working, and he hadn't even started spanking me yet. Brad didn't waste any time working up to the spanking. He didn't stroke my back or my ass or say anything to me. He just put one hand firmly in the middle of my back to hold me in place and started whaling away on my ass. Most of the spanks hit right in the middle of the ass cheek, but once in a while he would hit lower, almost on the leg. That was a lot more painful and would cause me to kick my legs way up in the air and scream even louder. I knew that each time I did that I was showing my twat to everyone who was looking. That added humiliation was driving me crazy with lust. I felt like I was on the verge of an explosive orgasm just from the pain and humiliation of it all, and then he stopped. "Change of plans," he said sternly. Down on your hands and knees right here. I did as he had instructed. At that point I think I would have done anything for anybody just to get that orgasm that was just over the hill in front of me. "Tommy," he said, "I think you deserve a special tip from this little lady. You take her mouth while I take her cunt." As he knelt on the floor in front of me, Brad added, "The only thing is that when she starts to cum, you have to yank all those clothespins off her tits. You got that?" "Got it, Brad," he answered His prick was already out of his pants and starting to get hard. I hadn't said anything about sucking anybody off, but I did want to be humiliated and there is nothing more humiliating than being forced to give a man a blow job in public. I gobbled his prick into my mouth and started slurping. Meanwhile, Brad rammed himself into me from behind. I've never really been a fan of doggy style, but it also added to the humiliation. I started grunting and groaning and yelling out as much as I could around Tommy's prick. I was heading higher than I had ever been before. The pain of Brad slamming up against my bruised asscheeks combined with the humiliation of having Tommy's prick in my mouth and the fact that all of this was taking place in front of a crowd on the filthy floor of a dive bar was doing things to me that I had never felt before. Suddenly I yelled out, "Take my ass. Now! Take my ass!" I didn't know why I said that. I definitely do not, or did not, like anal. It is painful... and disgusting... and humiliating. Well, three for three. That's what I was looking for pain, disgust and humiliation. Brad pulled way back until he was clear of my cunt and then rammed forward in one thrust and buried himself in my ass. I screamed in pain, but as soon as his balls hit me between the legs, I started to climax. Brad and Tommy were both holding on to me as I screamed and thrashed and bucked like a bronco coming out of the shoot. Then Brad yelled, "Now!" and Tommy ripped all of the clothespins from my body. My mind literally exploded. Everything was color and sound and flashes of light. In my next truly conscious moment, I realized that I was laying face down on the floor. Dave was pumping madly in my ass and Tommy was now spurting into my hair. Then I heard Dave say, "Who's next?" He pulled out of my ass with a loud pop and almost immediately someone else took his place. This new person went for my pussy rather than my asshole, but I still squirmed and screamed and tried to get out from under him. Two more men from the bar came over and held my arms. One reached under me and squeezed my breasts and then pinched one of my nipples. That was the magic button. "Fuck me. Fuck me. FUCK ME!" I screamed. The two men pulled me back up onto my knees and one of them put his prick in my mouth. I was too far gone to give him a true blow job, but it didn't matter because he was actually fucking my face. He didn't last very long and shot his load down my throat. He was immediately replaced by another man, who also didn't last very long, but he pulled out of my mouth and shot his load all over my face. I think a different man took over behind me at that point because the prick was back in my ass rather than my cunt. My mind collapsed after that and I really don't know how many men had me or in which hole. I woke up really early the next morning lying naked on the barroom floor. My purse and $400 in twenties were laying on the floor next to me. There was a note that read, "Lock the door when you leave." My clothes, unfortunately, were nowhere to be found. I was a filthy mess. I stunk so bad that I could even smell myself. It was a mixture of cunt and cum and urine and sweat and barroom floor. I looked for my clothes for a while and finally said out loud, "The hell with it. You wanted humiliation, you might as well top it off by driving home naked." Luckily there wasn't much traffic that early on a Saturday morning and I was able to get out of town and home without being stopped by the police. One of the neighbor boys, however, was out mowing ditches and he did see me get out of the car and go into the house. I heard him gasp as he realized that I was naked and covered in cum. By the time I got in the kitchen door, I was once again burning with shame and embarrassment. The night had been everything I had hoped it would be, but it was also a lot that I hadn't hoped for or really wanted. I now knew that both pain and humiliation took me to places that most girls can only dream of. But I also knew that if I kept this up, one morning I would find myself dead in an alley rather than just bruised, beaten, and hung over on a barroom floor. That was when I decided that I would be better off finding ways to get pain and humiliation a little more safely. I went back to the internet and started looking at pictures and reading stories. There is a lot of bullshit out there, but every once in a while, there is a story or post or series of images that actually has something to do with reality. I found out enough to know that I am evidently a natural-born pain slut and I also found that there might be third avenue to the explosive pleasure which I now craved. That third avenue was restraint. Pain would take me over the top. Pain and humiliation would take me even higher. Would adding restraint to that put me in the stratosphere? And was there a way to do this safely? There are actually quite a few good sites which give a lot of useful information about self- bondage. I learned how to make a simple ice cube key release and tried that as my first attempt. I didn't have a safety backup, but this was a pretty simple setup for test purposes. All I did was buy some cheap handcuffs and leg irons from an online store and put them on my wrists and ankles before one of my nightly masturbation sessions. If something went wrong and the key didn't drop down next to the bed like it was supposed to, worse come to worse, I could work my way downstairs to my dad's basement workshop and use some of his tools to cut myself free. I lay back on the bed like I normally did and put the clothespins in place. I was now up to nine on each tit so that they formed an X with my nipple right in the middle. I was using my favorite vibrator, a jack rabbit. The jack rabbit not only has the rabbit ears to put a tingle on your clit, it thrusts in and out and spins as the same time. At first, I didn't think that having my hands and legs cuffed together would make any difference. But then things started to heat up and I tried to open my legs. They would only pull open as far apart as the chain that held my ankles. I had to pull my feet almost up against my ass in order to open myself up like I wanted to. As I struggled against the confinement of the chain, I found myself responding to the inability to move freely. Something about not being totally in control was pushing me higher than just the pain and the jack rabbit. It wasn't until I started getting close to where I wanted to be that I realized what it meant for my hands to be bound together. Normally as I approach that grand finish, I reach up and twist some of the clothespins on my tits. I sometimes even twist the one that is directly on my nipple. My right hand started to move toward my breasts, but it was attached to my left hand that was controlling the jack rabbit. I heard myself groan out, "Noooooo." I wanted the additional pain of the twisted clothespin, but I also wanted to keep the sensations from the jack rabbit. In my previous sessions, I would sometimes let go of the vibrator to twist pins and play with my clit at the same time, but I never totally abandoned one area for the other. Now I had to choose. I pulled my feet as tight into my ass as I could so that my heels were pushing against the jack rabbit. Then I raised both hands up to my breasts. I couldn't even reach both breasts at the same time! I needed that little extra stimulation to take me over the top and I couldn't do it. I bounced over to the edge of the bed so that I could lower my feet over the side and sit up. Now my weight was keeping the vibrator in place and holding it so that it could thrust inside me rather than just slip slightly in and out of my cunt. The only problem was that sitting on the jack rabbit was more like sitting on a jack hammer. It was pounding against the top of my cervix like an incessant woodpecker. With the rabbit held firmly in place I went back to pulling and twisting the clothespins on my breasts. If I could just tweak both nipples at the same time, I knew I would go over the edge, but I couldn't. I was screaming and crying in frustration. I found myself begging the handcuffs to let me free. "Please, please, please, please," I cried out. "Let me make myself cum." Then I realized that something else was happening. No, I couldn't cum... not yet, but I was still going higher and higher and higher. I was already in the mind-bending range and I hadn't popped yet. I was chanting, "Please, please, please, please, please," but there was nobody there to listen except me. I started bouncing up and down on the bed to drive the rabbit further and further into me. About the fifth or sixth time I bounced, a voice from the very back of my mind said, "That will work for your tits. Reverse it." I pulled my legs back up onto the bed and got up on my knees. My hands were now between my legs pumping the jack rabbit in and out of my cunt. With its own motion and with what I was doing with my hands, I was almost there, but I still needed something more. I pumped up and down with my hands about ten times and then gave one final extra heavy push and fell forward onto my face on the bed. All of the clothespins twisted at the same time. About half popped off. So did I. By the time I finished thrashing and screaming, I had knocked all of the clothespins off my breasts and deeply scraped my wrists and ankles with the cuffs. I realized there is a reason that you should buy the more expensive padded restraints. I also realized that a string that wound through the center of the spring on all of the clips would allow me to rip them all off in an instant. I lay their panting and groaning for what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes. Then I rolled back over onto my stomach with my hands between my legs. I could feel the cuffs pressing into the skin of my lower abdomen. I looked up at the ice cube which was holding the handcuff key up by the ceiling. I could feel the icy drops of water hitting my lower back. Each drop was a tiny icy shock to my overheated body. I lay their waiting... and waiting... and waiting for the ice to melt enough to allow the key to drop. The key itself was now clear of the ice, but a large clump of ice remained frozen solid around the carefully coiled string. If my hands and feet weren't bound, I could have stood up on the bed and reached up to grab the key. But then again, if my hands and feet weren't in cuffs, I wouldn't need the key. I rolled over onto my back and continued to watch the ice slowly melt. Now the drops of icy water were falling on my lower abdomen. I scootched over so that the drops were landing between my legs. After a little re-positioning, they were hitting directly on my clit. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was totally restrained and that the drops of ice water were part of some deranged man's fiendish torture. Brad's face flashed before my mind. He was laughing and calling me an insatiable slut. I came violently as soon as I imagined that. It took me totally by surprise. There was no lead up to it. My body didn't climb slowly to the peak before I threw myself off. It was like I was suddenly shot out of a cannon. I screamed and yelled and thrashed on the bed like I had done so many times before, but this time it was almost totally caused by the idea of being captive to someone like Brad. That's when I then knew for sure that I had the big three. I was turned on by pain, humiliation, and bondage. I was a true pain slut. Writing this has me gushing. I think I need to quit and go to bed before I can't control myself. Maybe if I have a really intense dream with Brad or somebody tying me up and doing all sorts of great things to me, I might dream myself an orgasm. If that happens, it doesn't break the rules because I'm asleep. Hmmmmmm. If all that is required is that I look like I'm asleep? Sorry about that thought, Dr. B, but if something does happen tonight I will truly be asleep and dreaming. Really I will. (-.-)Zzz... :-) :-) :-) End of entry for Day Two. Maddi's Diary, Day Three My thoughts about today is that today sucked. It sucked worse than yesterday. It is Sunday. There are no groups, no individual meetings, no activities other than a really lame church service with some 90-year-old retired preacher who kept forgetting where he was in his sermon. I sat in the back because there wasn't anything else to do and the TV was off during the service. The internet connection isn't good enough to stream movies or TV shows to my laptop so I am stuck with what is on the TV in the day room. It is controlled by the nurse at the desk behind the window. If it weren't for the fact that I watched her switch through all ten channels that are available, I would assume that she was a sadistic bitch who intentionally picked the worst crap possible for us to have to watch. But after seeing what was on, I realized that the crap she picked was the best crap that was available. Last night I managed to "dream up" an orgasm, so that itch between my legs has died down some. Tomorrow morning, I have a private session with Dr. B, a quick appearance before a judge, and then I am supposed to be released to my parents. Dad is delaying his departure to be here to take me home, and Mom is taking a couple vacation days from work. I'm not quite sure what I am going to say to them. Dr. B said that Dad picked up my "belongings" from the police station. Humiliation turns me on, but having to explain to my father what a butt plug electrode is for is not the kind of humiliation I'm looking for. I will deal with all of that tomorrow. Right now I think everything is beginning to catch up to me and I just need to sleep. I am going to close this out and send it to Dr. B. End of entry for Day Three. End of entry for Week One = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF CHAPTER = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 UMPA Eleven http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952 BDSM Boot Camp http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11204 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

The Captive Banshee - A Halloween Story by The Technician Halloween, Banshee, Fairy, Fay, Magic, Normal Sex <em> = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = This year the pixies brought me a tale of a Banshee as my Celtic Halloween story. At least, I think it was a pixie. It is sometimes difficult to keep the various Fay folk of the Emerald Isle in the proper category. In any case this is the story of a captive Banshee and how she is finally freed. As with all my Celtic stories, some of this is historical, some is Irish myth, and some is literary license. I leave it to you to determine which is which. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =</em> <em>WARNING! This warning is probably not needed for this story, but my other stories are usually much stronger. If you are not familiar with my writings and look for other stories, please read the introductory notes so you have an idea of the type of content involved. All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2016 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.</em> = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * I normally ignore emails sent to me by people I don't know especially ones with attachments but this particular message piqued my curiosity. That doesn't mean that I didn't do a special virus scan on it before opening it. According to my anti-virus program, the email itself scanned clean and the attachment appeared to be a standard pdf file with no links, so I opened the main email to see what ParaIrish101 had to say. ParaIrish101 was actually Marie O'Callahan. That was a name I recognized especially since her signature section included her picture and the name of her television program. She was the host of one of those cable paranormal investigation programs that you watch at one am when nothing else is on. The subject line of the email had said, "A Celtic Halloween Mystery." The text said simply, "From the Celtic stories you've posted, I think you would be interested in this. If so, give me a call." It then gave two cell phone numbers. One was labeled, "Official Business." The other was labeled, "Personal." I called the one which said, "Personal." A soft feminine voice answered and I said, "Did you just send me a file?" She stammered a moment and then answered, "Yes." "Call you back after I've read it," I said as I broke the connection. Yes, I act paranoid. But you aren't truly paranoid if there are people out to get you. I've upset enough people in the electronic world with my stories that I have to be suspicious. Ten minutes later I called her back. The file was a scan of a newspaper article. The headline was, "A Connecticut Banshee." The story was about a Banshee which supposedly haunts an Irish pub in a small community just outside of The Devil's Den Nature Preserve in Connecticut. According to the article, the pub, which was called The Captive Banshee, had been established in the early 1800s. For over 200 years, local residents reported sightings of the Banshee, especially near Halloween. Her keening wail, which could regularly be heard splitting the night, was assumed to be a portent of death for the person who heard it. When Marie answered this time, I asked, "Why me?" She laughed and answered, "Because you are a man of few words who gets right to the point." I heard her moving something around on a desk or whatever. "And," she continued, "you have an understanding of Celtic myth and folklore." "There are a lot of experts out there," I replied. "Many of them are better than me." "But none can write as well as you." she said, starting to sound like a saleswoman making a pitch. "And you need the publicity my stories would generate to leverage a jump to a major network with your show," I answered. After a long pause, she said flatly, "Yes." Her voice then switched to desperate. "But that doesn't mean this isn't something that you would really like to do. ... Something I need you to do." "Tell me what is so special about this Banshee for you," I said. "Stay with the truth or I hang up and you can get a different expert." "I think this one is real," she answered shakily. Her voice had that tension that comes from revealing a truth to someone you aren't sure of. "I think there is a Banshee... or something... held captive at that pub." She said firmly and then paused... for a long time. Finally she said, "And this isn't for my show. There will be no cameras or crew." She paused again and I waited her out. Finally she said, "It's personal. Whatever it is, I have to free it... It has to be me... I'm the one who has to do it... because I'm the only one who can free it." That last came out almost like a question, as if she was afraid to say it, or thought that I wouldn't believe it. "What makes you think that?" I asked. I was now genuinely interested. Perhaps my interest showed in my voice because her answer sounded much more relaxed. "For two reasons," she said calmly. "One, I am a direct descendent of Shane O'Callahan who built the pub in 1809." I could hear her clear her throat. "And two," she continued with a bit more hesitancy, "the Banshee comes to me in my dreams and begs for my help." "Ooooh!" she blurted out in a deep, almost painful growl. "Now you probably think I'm weird or crazy or both." I laughed. "I've heard a lot weirder," I said while still laughing, "from people who are a lot crazier than you." Without intending it, my voice snapped to serious as I continued, "and what they had to say to me turned out to be absolutely true." "So you are willing to help?" "Count me in," I replied. "What do you want to do and when?" "WHEN is part of the reason I came to you rather than some other expert," she replied. "You are one of the few people who understand the difference between dark night and Halloween. Halloween is always October 31st, but true Celtic Dark Night is always the dark of the moon following the autumnal equinox. This year Dark Night is a full moon cycle before the Roman All Hallow's Eve." Her voice became almost hard as she said very firmly, "Whatever this spirit is, it's Celtic, not Roman. And to free it, we have to be there on Dark Night, not four weeks later when the rest of the media will be there for Halloween." While she was speaking, I was quickly consulting a moon phase calendar. "So," I said, "we need to be at the inn the weekend of October first if we are going to meet this Banshee or spirit or whatever she is." "I've already made reservations for two rooms from Friday, September thirty through Sunday, October second," she answered. "Do you want to meet me there or should we meet somewhere else first?" "I'll meet you there," I answered. "I assume one room is in your name and the other is in mine." "Good assumption," she replied, "I'll see you Friday night." *** I should have gotten better directions to the inn. My GPS took me hell and gone down the wrong road. I finally got back to the highway and stopped at a gas station and asked the attendant for directions to The Captive Banshee inn. "Never heard of it," was his quick reply. "Shit!" I said loudly and then calmed myself. "Is there a haunted Irish inn or pub in the area?" I asked. "Oh, yes!" he responded enthusiastically. "The Happy Irishman is just up the road. They rent rooms too." He paused as if thinking deeply, "But the she devil isn't supposed to show up until Halloween. That's when all the news people are going to be here." "Good for them," I said as I turned to leave. On the way back out to my car, I sighed and said softly, "If this is actually real, they're going to be a month late." *** Several miles down the road I arrived at a colonial style building set back just a little ways from what had once been the main road through the area. Evidently they built the new road right alongside the old one, so the old highway formed part of the parking lot for The Happy Irishman. As I got out of my car, I looked up at the sign which hung out over the door. It was done in a typical colonial style with green, old-English lettering on a white background. Beneath the words, "The Happy Irishman Pub and Inn," there was a caricature of an old Irishman, or perhaps it was supposed to be a Leprechaun. He was holding a full stein of beer and had a silly grin on his face. Somehow he looked familiar to me. Maybe I had seen a similar image in an ad somewhere, but I couldn't imagine an advertising agency using an image that looked that fakey. "Very authentic," I muttered as I stepped through the front door into a very small entry area. Marie was already checked in and was waiting for me in the public house portion of the inn. I quickly checked in and took my bags to my room. It was basically a bed and breakfast type of place. My room on the second floor was a very small, but serviceable bedroom. Since the building was from the 1800's, there were no closets and the shower was down the hall, but somewhere along the line, someone had added a very small bathroom in the corner that I evidently had to share with my neighbor. There was a small sign on the door which said, "Remember to keep this door closed and locked when not in use." I left my bags unpacked in my room and went back down to sit with Miss O'Callahan. She had gotten us a booth. Menus were already on the table as well as a tankard of dark ale. It was on my side of the booth. She was sipping what looked like a standard pale American lager. "I see you've done your homework," I said as I picked up the tankard. "This may be my only shot at this," she replied. "I did my research." "And your research brought you to me," I said. "Actually," she said firmly, "my research brought you to this inn." She shoved a menu across the table to me and said, "The owner has agreed to meet with us later after we eat. They have everything from Black Pudding to Cottage Pie. He recommends the corned beef if you want something Irish. Otherwise they have a full range of steaks." I wasn't sure that ordering a steak in an Irish pub wouldn't put me on the bad side of whatever spirit or sprite was trapped there, but I also couldn't see eating sausage made with pigs' blood or a mixture of mashed potatoes and beef stew, so I opted for the corned beef sandwich. It was surprisingly good and was served with a side of English-style chips. As we ate, I attempted to make small talk, but mostly I watched Marie. I knew that she was in her mid to late twenties, but she looked much younger. There was something about her that seemed so "innocent" but I couldn't quite say what it was. She had blue eyes that could come only from Ireland. They didn't have the cold, steely grayness that Nordic or German blue eyes often have. Instead they were bright, flower-in-the-spring blue. And when she talked she had this way of opening them so that the whites of the eyes showed all around the bright blue iris. Her skin had that almost ivory paleness that you find in parts of Ireland. Normally that skin tone is accompanied by dark black hair, but hers was a subdued light brown with a heavy hint of orange when the light struck it from behind her. It was no surprise that she was successful on television. It was difficult to assess her body while she was sitting in the booth, but if the fit and shapely legs which I glimpsed as I approached the booth were an accurate indication, her lily-white body was probably what many men dreamed of. After we had exhausted the polite topics of weather, sports, and politics I suggested that we get down to business. "What exactly do you know about whatever this is that we are trying to free?" I asked. "I know more about my great-great-great-whatever grandfather," she answered. Her voice turned harsh and the brightness went out of her eyes as she spoke. "He was an evil man," she said harshly. "And not just for what he did to this bean-sidhe." She pronounced the old name for a dweller of the fairy mound in a Gaelic fashion that sounded very much like a badly inebriated person trying to say, "banshee." "So you think she is a fairy of some sort?" I asked, interrupting her. "She's definitely fay," she said firmly, and then just as firmly, she said "and Shane O'Callahan was just as definitely evil." She set her sandwich down on her plate and looked across the table at me. There was fire in her eyes now, and it wasn't a pretty fire. It was anger. "He made his money in Ireland acting as a foreman for the British landowners," she said very heatedly. "In 1803 he saw his chance for blood money and sold Thomas Russell's location to the conquerors. That's what he used to come to this country and build this inn." She took a deep breath and continued, "When the inn wasn't prosperous enough for him," she practically snarled, "he advertised in the rural areas back home that he had guaranteed jobs for young men in the New World. He promised them that they could make enough to bring their families over in just a few months. But when the ships arrived in New York, those who had survived the passage as steerage were all but sold into slavery to the mines and the mills." Tears welled up in her eyes as she finished softly. "Many were never heard from again." She paused and said slowly, "And he was evil enough to entrap a Fay and keep her captive forever." I gave her a moment to compose herself and then asked a very needed question. "Are we sure that we are dealing with a captured spirit and not just old Shane hanging around and causing trouble?" Her eyes fired once again and she spat out, "Shane O'Callahan is in hell! That is for sure. The last thing my great-whatever grandmother did was to see that her son and daughter would be taken care of and then she took that bastard to hell with her." She smiled somewhat strangely. "There are still burn marks on the outside walls in back where the owner used to live. This isn't Shane. It's whatever unfortunate Fay he tricked or overpowered. He's gone, but whatever he did to hold her here, still has her bound." "How can you be so sure about Shane?" I asked. "She showed me," Marie answered flatly. "I already knew most of it from family stories, but she showed me everything." "I have to ask," I said. "You study paranormal phenomena. You know that sometimes unexplained things are just projections from a troubled mind. How can you be sure that all of this isn't just your own projections of a family history that is very difficult to accept?" She smiled at me. "I am twenty-seven years old," she answered. "And the Fay has been raising havoc here at the inn for two centuries." At that point the pub owner interrupted us and Marie slid further into the booth to allow him to sit with her. "I'm Sean O'Brian," he said. "I understand ye want to talk to me about the banshee." His slight Irish brogue surprised me. He didn't look Irish. If I were to bet, I would have placed him much farther south, perhaps somewhere in the Mediterranean area. "That is part of the plan," Marie answered. "But we are trying to do more than that." "Can you get rid of it?" he asked, sounding very eager. "Can you make it go away and stay away?" "Yes," she answered in a very measured tone, "we think we can free her." "I have a question," I said, interrupting them. "If the name of this place is The Captive Banshee, why does the sign say The Happy Irishman?" "Because she won't let me put that on the sign!" he said emphatically. "Who?" Marie asked. "The Banshee," he growled. "After I read that piece about the Connecticut Banshee, I got rid of my bar in Brooklyn and figured I could make a killing down here with the tourist trade. But when I put the old name up on the sign, she tore it down. I tried again, and she repainted it. You don't think I put that silly, grinning leprechaun up there do you?" His Irish brogue was now completely gone. "The local historical society is threatening to sue my ass and fine me a couple thousand a month if I don't restore the inn back to its true name. I told them that the Banshee wouldn't let me put the sign back up and they sent some naturalist over to explain things to me." He huffed heavily, "He told me there was no such thing as banshees and he was going to prove it to me. He put a big rat in a cage out on that little strip of grass right in front of the building. Then he set up a night scope video camera and told me to wait to see what took the rat." He looked back and forth between Marie and me before continuing. "About an hour after it got dark, the cage started rattling. Now you will see that your Banshee is just a barn owl,' he said to me. But when we looked at the screen, all we could see was the cage being torn apart. Something tore the door off the cage and the rat ran across the lot." He was starting to get a little excited as he spoke. "The guy said he would come back the next night with a stronger cage. ... He did. He drove stakes into the ground and chained everything in place. He told me it was just a really big owl." He slapped his palm on the table between us. "She tore that cage apart like it was pipe cleaners. Then she flew over to the camera and looked right at me. Carlo,' she said, don't taunt me or certain people on the lower east side will find out that you didn't die in the fire that destroyed your bar.' "Yeah," he said, "I ain't Irish. And I've got gumba hitmen who would be looking for me if they knew I was alive, but I'm more afraid of that Banshee than I am of anyone down in New York that wants me dead. I'll never forget that blue-white face and that white hair. That hag wasn't just looking at me through the camera. She came right out of the fucking television set and screamed in my face." He slid out of the booth and stood up. "Do whatever you want," he said abruptly. "Just tell me in advance where you want your things sent when you don't come back." As he started to walk away, he shouted back over his shoulder, "Oh, and the meal's on the house. It's the most I can do for someone who might free me of this damned spook. Besides, it might be your last meal." Marie looked over at me with a wide smile. "Do you still think this Banshee might just be my hysterical projection?" she asked. "Not at all," I answered. "Not at all." I took a sip of what was left of my ale and asked, "So what's the plan?" The plan was simple. The next night Marie and I would go out into the small field behind the inn just before dark. We would wait there until midnight. When the Banshee showed up, Marie would find out what was needed to free her. *** My mother often said, "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans." As I have lived out my life, many different occasions have proven that saying true. Tonight was one of them. A little after midnight I was awakened by a soft knocking on the bathroom door. As I pulled myself out of bed, I heard Marie's voice. "We need to talk," she said. "I made a very severe miscalculation." I was sleeping nude, so I pulled my pants on before opening the door. Marie was standing there in an open robe. Beneath the robe she was wearing a white satin teddy. The nightie was more functional than sexy. The bottoms looked like oversized boxer shorts. The top was more of a T- shirt than anything else. "What's wrong?" I asked wearily. "We were wrong about Dark Night," she answered. "I used an app on my phone that puts the phases of the moon on my calendar, but it isn't accurate. Tonight is Dark Night." "Shit!" I said loudly. "Do you think we still have time to go out and try to find the Banshee?" "We don't have to," she said as she stepped into the room. "Why not?" I asked. "Because," she began. Her voice changed at this point. To my astonishment so did her hair... and her eyes... and her body... and the clothing that she was wearing. "Because she already found me." Marie or whatever she now was stepped into the room. She had lost several inches in height and a considerable amount of weight. She now had very dark hair and dark eyes which seemed to stand out against the paleness of her skin. Her clothing was diaphanous with a hint of green to the gauzy material which covered, but did not hide, the petite body beneath. "Are you allowed to tell me your name?" I asked. "You may call me Koleen," she answered. The beginning of the name sounded a bit harsh. "I assumed that is spelled with a K'?" I asked. "In your English, yes," she answered as she walked over and sat on the bed. She then patted the bed next to her and said, "Come, sit, talk with me." "Are you a Banshee?" I asked as I stood before her. A pulse of energy jolted me almost like the shock wave of an explosion and rocked me back so that I had to brace my feet to remain standing. "Do not call me that!" she screamed. I don't know how the rest of the inn wasn't awakened by her voice. "I am sorry," she said after a few moments. "You don't realize what you are saying." She paused and took a deep breath as if to compose herself and then explained, "Yes, I am a bean-sidhe. But that merely means that I am of the Fay and can claim the fairy mound as my home. I refuse to be what you call a Banshee. I am more than that!" Again her voice had risen in pitch and volume so that the glass in the windows seemed to rattle with her screech. She looked at me, then giggled sightly and said, "Don't worry about the rest of the inn. We are contained within this moment and they are unaware of us." She again patted the bed alongside her. This time I decided that I might as well get close. She could probably kill me anywhere in the room or for that matter, anywhere in the whole country so being close was no more dangerous than being far away. "Tell me your story," I said softly. "Maybe there is some way I can free you." After we stared at each other for a few moments in silence, I coughed slightly and said, "Marie told me that Shane O'Callahan trapped you or tricked you or something. Is that true?" "Shane O'Callahan" she said and then spit on the floor beside the bed... "Shane O'Callahan betrayed me. I was young and naive and he took advantage of me." "Do you mean he made promises to you," I asked, "and then threw you away once he had his way with you?" "No," she shouted, "I mean that he made promises to me and then refused to have his way with me." "I don't understand," I said. I was being honest. I had no idea what in the hell she meant. I expected her to explain, but instead she asked me, "Do you know why you humans are ticklish?" Now I was totally confused. I just stared at her. "It's sexual," she continued. "Or more accurately, anti-sexual." I just shook my head slightly as she smiled at me. "In a small child," she explained, "everyplace that a soft touch would bring out sexual feelings in an adult, instead creates laughter. It is a human's primitive way of preventing sexual activity before the body is ready. The laughter discourages the male from continuing sexual advances. Once most humans are mature, the ticklish areas become places were a soft touch under the right conditions creates a sexual response in the body." "But some people are very ticklish their whole lives," I said. "Exactly," she responded. "Even most of them, however, lose their ticklishness once they are aroused." "But some do not," I added, "and I assume that is important." Her voice became very serious, almost sad, as she explained, "The Fay are not ticklish. Our young females do not laugh when a male touches them sexually." Her whole body slumped. "Instead, our whole bodies appear to change. We appear to be old, withered hags." She laughed softly. It was a light, silvery, hollow laugh. "That is much more effective than laughter at driving away a male." She straightened herself and turned to fully face me. "To put it in terms you can understand," she said. "I am one of the Fay who remained ticklish once I matured." "And Shane promised to make love to you?" I said. It was more of a question than a statement. "Yes," she answered. "He promised to be my..." She used a Gaelic word that sounded like a mix between a roar and a cough while you were trying to spit. "I'm sorry," I said. "I don't speak Gaelic. I don't understand." "It means power giver,'" she explained. "Unless I fully become a mature Fay, my powers remain childish. There is much I can do as a child Fay, but there is much more that is currently beyond me. Shane promised that if I came with him to the Americas and made him prosperous, he would be my power giver. I promised that I would stay with him until he was rich." She let lose with a screaming wail that caused me to put my hands over my ears. "And now I am trapped by that promise," she sobbed. "Wouldn't his death have freed you from that promise?" I asked. "Mine, yes," she answered. "But his, no. If I were mature, then I would have the power to break free. But I am not. I agreed that a human male would be my power giver and unless a human male gives me power, I am bound here until I, myself, die." Another shrieking wail erupted from her mouth. "And Fay live for a long, long time," she cried out in the same wailing shriek." She looked intently at me. Sobs were wracking her body. "On over two hundred dark nights, I have taken bodily form and sought a power giver. But what human male would mate with something as ugly as I am." "I think you are beautiful," I replied. "That is why I chose you," she said firmly. She sniffled back tears once or twice and continued, "You are special. You are perhaps the only one who can truly free me. I knew that I had to bring you here on Dark Night. But I don't have that kind of power as a child Fay." She gestured to herself and said, "When Marie O'Callahan visited this place, I could feel a connection to her like to no other person. I was able to guide her and work through her to bring you here. And tonight I used her body to become truly corporeal." She giggled slightly. "She thinks she is still in her bed asleep. All of this will be but a dream to her when she awakens in the morning." "She is a descendent of Shane's," I said quietly. "But she feels that what he did was evil. That's why she is trying to free you." Koleen was now lightly stroking my face with her hands. "What is so special about me?" I asked. "Do you remember when the leprechaun visited you a few years ago?" she asked in response. "Danny is a little hard to forget," I replied. "Have you ever wondered why you were able to see him when most mortals can't?" "Never thought about it," I said. "I've seen so much weird shit, I just took it for granted." "He stops by here every so often to steal beer from people in the pub," she explained. "And he told me what he did. He cast a spell on you so that you are able to see someone as they truly are regardless of how they present themselves." She paused and added, "He said you already did that as well as any human, so all he had to do was add a little leprechaun strength to your natural ability." I started laughing. She was not amused. "Sorry," I quickly said before she could do something nasty to me. "I just realized why the face on the sign was so familiar." She giggled slightly. "He thinks it is a bad likeness," she said. She stroked my face again and continued with her explanation. "Leprechaun magic is very long- lasting," she said. "You will probably have that ability for as along as you live." "How does that make me the one who can free you?" I asked. She leaned in and kissed me. The warmth and need of that kiss sent waves of pleasure through my body. "If someone were to look through the door right now," she said in a breathy voice, "they would see an old hag with long white hair sitting on this bed kissing you." She took a deep breath. "If that is what you also saw, I doubt that right now there would be anything pressing against the front of your trousers." She was right on both. I've no great desire to make love to an old hag, and my prick was trying desperately to break through the zipper on my pants. "I can't force you," she said quietly, "not even with the most powerful magic. For this to work, you have to truly want to do this." She giggled. "There is no danger to you. I'm not a succubus or anything like that. It will be ordinary sex..." she giggled again... "well, it won't exactly be ordinary. It will be fantastic." She was again stroking my face. Her dark eyes were silently pleading with me. I shook my head slowly and her eyes and mouth went wide. She gasped loudly as tears began to form in her eyes. "No!" I said suddenly. "I didn't mean I wouldn't. I was just trying to clear my head. This is so much to take in at once." I took a deep breath and looked into her petite face. "Yes," I said. "I will make love to you if that is what you want. ... and if it is what is needed to free you." She launched herself at me and locked her lips against mine. Suddenly we were naked in the bed. She was on top of me squirming her body against mine. Her nipples were rubbing against my chest like two marbles. Her tongue was slithering into my mouth. Her hands were running down my arms and onto my legs. She brought her hands up onto my chest and pushed herself up onto her knees, straddling my hips. She then dropped herself down onto my prick, impaling herself in one swift motion. She gave a quick squeak as I drove through her hymen but then immediately began bouncing her body up and down on my shaft. I tried to match her thrusts, but she was moving way too fast for me. I ended up falling back on the bed and letting her ride me like a living dildo. As she continued to bounce up and down, she began keening in a loud, high-pitched screech. It was at the point where I was expecting everything glass in the room to start shattering when she stopped suddenly at the top of a stroke and then drove herself down hard enough to almost knock the wind out of me. Her wail changed to a drawn out, "Aaaaaahhhhh," that was a little bit lower-pitched than her previous screeching, but equally as loud. I don't know how I had held off as long as I did, but when she did that, I erupted within her. As soon as I climaxed, she shuddered and fell against my chest, holding tightly to me and quivering. I reached up and held her as she finally relaxed down against my chest. "That was for me," she murmured. Then she began moving against me once again. My sweat and hers made her nipples slide against my chest as she pushed her body up and down against my body. Despite having just cum, my prick once again became stiff and swelled within her. I began to thrust up against her and the second or third time I pressed up into her, she fell onto her side and pulled me over with her so that I ended up on top. She bucked against me once or twice, but I didn't need any further encouragement. I began thrusting into her and she matched me thrust for thrust. I have often laughed at other writers who described the feeling of being inside a particular woman as sliding through warm honey. I will never laugh at that again. I can think of no other way to describe the sensations as we fucked. It was as if my prick was sliding through warm honey. This time her wail when she orgasmed was a little more human-sounding. It was loud as hell, but it sounded like a woman's scream. She also sounded like a normal woman as she snuggled into me afterwards and made soft murmuring noises. I fell asleep with her in my arms. *** The morning sun shining through the windows of my room awakened me. I gave a satisfied "Hmmmm" as I felt the warm body of a woman still snuggled against mine. My murmured "Hmmmm" quickly changed into an excited, "Holy Shit!" as I looked down into a startled pair of sparkling blue eyes staring back at me. "What... what happened?" Marie said as she pulled away from me. Her eyes darted around the room, finally stopping when she spied her satin teddy lying crumpled on the floor. Holding the sheet tightly against her body, she said, "I had this weird dream. The Banshee came to me... No, the Banshee went inside me." She looked around wildly, "I was her," she stammered out. "And she was me." Her eyes became fixed on me, "And I... she... asked you to take her virginity." "It was the only way to free her," I said softly. "I thought you would wake up in your bed this morning and think that this had all been a dream." She relaxed back onto the bed and supported herself on one elbow so she could continue to look directly at me. "It's not like it was a nightmare," she said. "In fact, it was pretty enjoyable... in a really weird sort of way." "Thank you... I think," I said. I then supported myself on my elbow mirroring Marie's posture on the bed. "What happens now?" I asked. "Koleen is free," she answered. "That is what I had to do. "So do we just go home?" I asked. "No," she said. "We are going to stay another night like we planned. Tonight we will have dinner together downstairs. And over steaks and wine and whatever the innkeeper has for dessert, you will slowly seduce me." I remained silent. I wasn't sure that there was anything I could say that wouldn't end up getting me in severe trouble. "Then," she continued, "after I wake up in your bed on Sunday morning, we will say our goodbyes and go home." "Sounds like a plan to me," I answered. Turning a light shade of pink, she then said, "Now close your eyes or something so I can get out of this bed and go back to my room. Then we will go downstairs for breakfast." A half-hour later, both of us had used the bathroom I let her have first dibs on it. Then we went down for what was either a late breakfast or an early lunch. As soon as we were seated Sean/Carlo came running up to us. "What in the hell did you do to the Banshee last night?" he shouted. Both of us looked up at him. Marie turned a deep red and sputtered something. I was a little clearer as I asked, "What do you mean?" "She changed the sign again!" he yelled. He was obviously very upset. He put his hands on his head and moaned, "I don't know if this is good or bad." "It is very good," Marie said quietly. "Koleen has been freed. She will probably leave you alone now." "Except," I said, "she promised to return every Halloween actually on Halloween since that's what people around here expect and make an appearance at midnight." I smiled at him, "I think that is to make up for all the trouble she has caused." "Oh well," he said in a much quieter voice. "I guess that's good news. ... But I'm going to have to change all the ads and menus again." "Why?" Marie asked. In response, he pointed out the window at the sign. The lettering was still green on white, but in old English lettering it said, "The Happy Bean-Sidhe Pub and Inn" The smiling face beneath the lettering was no longer the mischievous Leprechaun. Instead, it was a petite young woman with black hair and very dark eyes. There was a broad smile on her face, and over her shoulders you could just make out the tips of a pair of translucent wings. "She looks happy," I said. "If I remember my dream correctly," Marie said, "she has reason to be." She turned slightly pink as she looked into my eyes and added, "Hopefully by tomorrow morning, so should I." I hope Bean Sidh magic is also long lasting. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 UMPA Eleven http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = </em>

Dancing to Louie Louie - A Halloween Story. By The Technician Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Halloween, = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A young woman travels a LONG way to attend a Halloween party. Strange things sometimes happen on Halloween night and no one notices because... its Halloween. On what other night could a green female visitor from outer space escape notice well, not exactly escape notice it is very hard not to notice a beautiful naked woman dancing on stage, especially if her beautiful, naked body, including her hair, is green. This story is more Sci-Fi than erotic. There is nudity, but no real sex. It will appeal primarily to the exhibitionists and voyeurs among us. And, of course, it will appeal to the nerds and techies. I guess I belong in that last group. After all, I am The Technician. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician} Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * Sta-ie-che braced herself as she saw the solid ground rushing toward the escape pod. It had all happened so fast that she had not had time to properly buckle herself into the survival seat. Captain Ha-ie-mak had literally thrown her into the pod moments before impact. They were supposed to be a contact team. At least, Captain Ha-ie-mak and the four crewmen were supposed to be the contact team. Technically, Sta-ie-che wasnt a part of the contact team. She wasnt even a part of the Turillian Space Corps. She had been added to the mission at the last minute for two reasons, both of which had to do with her position in Turillian life. Sta-ie-che was a pleasure dancer. Pleasure dancers did what their name implied. They danced for the pleasure of others. Often times that meant dancing on stage in pleasure emporiums for male or female Turillians. Sometimes it meant engaging in what was euphemistically called, The Horizontal Dance, also for the pleasure of male or female Turillians. Pleasure dancing was not exactly the most honorable of professions, but it was legal, and a young woman or man could save up a significant amount of money in just a few years. They could then use that money to launch themselves into other professions that would have been financially impossible for them to attain. Sta-ie-che did not need the money. Nor was she planning to become something else in a few years. Her parents, a space fleet admiral and a university professor, would have gladly paid for whatever education she needed for whatever career she wanted to pursue in life. Instead, she turned her back on them to become a pleasure dancer. Her father thought she had done it just to hurt him. It had always pained Sta-ie-che that, to the day of his death, he never understood why she had done so. It was not a devious or devilish desire to hurt and humiliate her parents that led her into pleasure dancing. It was her love of dance, itself... a love of all forms of dance, not just the rigidly structured dance of the official Turillian dance troupes. And Sta-ie-che could dance! By the time she had entered junior high school, she had mastered even the most intricate steps required to be admitted into the Academy of Dance. Graduation from the academy was a necessary stepping stone to an honorable dancing career on Turillia. And although few were selected, she would have been eagerly welcomed by the academy. But Sta-ie-che never even applied to the Academy of Dance. Sta-ie-che was a free spirit who wanted to experience all kinds of dance, not just the limited selection of officially approved styles. She was especially intrigued by what the star scopes were now picking up from a very distant planet in a distant solar system. Their music and their dance was not rigid. It flowed and it moved sometimes to slow refrains, sometimes to driving rhythms. Videos of people from that planet dancing showed them not in the structured lock step of the dance troupes of Turillia, or sitting around quietly watching just one person perform the complex steps of one of the traditional dances. Instead, their movements were wild and free, and there were often many of them moving and pulsing with the music at the same time. It had been when these videos first began reaching Turillias outer ring of sensors that the space corp decided that it was time to contact this planet. They had been keeping an eye on this distant planet for some time as it moved slowly through eras of technological development that in many ways mirrored the development of Turillia. From the videos, however, it was apparent that this was a very war-like planet, much more so even than Turillia, herself. And now, it was also becoming more and more apparent that the people of the distant, blue planet were planning deep space exploration. Such exploration would, eventually, bring them into contact with Turillia. So, it was decided that it was time to establish contact and, if the planet showed peaceful intentions, to welcome it as a trading partner. If, as was feared by many, its war-like society was incapable of peace, then Turillia would have no choice but to destroy the planet before it acquired the weaponry or travel technology to become a true threat. Everyone on the contact ship was a volunteer. To maintain secrecy, the contact ship was launched from the fleet while it was still a great distance from the planet. And because the plan was to land without being detected, it even launched in full concealment mode. But being totally cloaked requires traveling at a very, very slow pace. In fact, the contact ship had to travel significantly beneath light speed. Even properly shielded, the cosmic waves created by traveling at light speed or above would create ripples in the fabric of time and space that would easily be detected by Turillian sensors, and perhaps by the planets star scopes or defense systems. Reaching the planet from the point of launch at sub-light speed would take two years. A battle cruiser with full power to its star drives could cover that distance in days, or even hours if the captain was willing to risk overheating his engines. But two years is a long time to spend in a small vessel that must maintain complete electronic silence. Crews had broken in less time than that isolated in the darkness of space. So, it was decided that something had to be done to entertain the troops during the voyage. Sta-ie-che was that entertainment. When it was made known that the star corp was seeking a pleasure dancer to accompany a dangerous contact mission, she volunteered. She told her mother that she felt she owed it to her fathers memory to help in this way. There was a second reason for sending a pleasure dancer on the mission. As near as anyone could determine from the electronic transmissions which were being captured, the people of this planet were very similar to Turillians with one major exception. The people seen in the videos from the planet were pink, brown, red, or even dark black. All Turillians were an equal shade of green. The five members of the contact team had been chemically and medically modified to be a rather light shade of brown. That, combined with clothing copied from the videos meant that they would be able to mix in with the people of the planet in the early stages of their contact mission. But so that the main contact group would not be too much of a shock for the inhabitants of the planet, someone was needed on the mission who would remain unaltered... and who would be willing to let the people of the planet examine their body visually, physically, and perhaps even medically. Such an action was obviously considered beneath members of the space corps. Pleasure dancers, however, by law were never clothed unless it was part of their dance routine. The climate was controlled on Turillia so clothing was not a necessity, but rather an expected social norm except for pleasure dancers. Clothing was forbidden them so that everyone would know exactly what they were. And more importantly, no one would mistakenly assume that some other Turillian woman was a pleasure dancer when she was not. The one item of clothing that pleasure dancers were allowed to wear was shoes and most wore some sort of protection for their feet. This was primarily so that they would not injure themselves in public areas. During a performance, a pleasure dancer was usually barefoot and naked. Sending along a pleasure dancer was the perfect solution. It would keep the crew entertained, and someone like a Sta-ie-che would have no problem allowing anyone or everyone to look at her body. The two years of transit were relatively uneventful. Sta-ie-che sang and danced for the crew on a regular basis. She also sat for hours with them helping them as they practiced the language of the portion of the planet where they would land. As a result, she, herself, became rather proficient in the language. And yes, she also regularly accompanied them to their rest platforms for horizontal dancing. Captain Ha-ie-mak made sure that her visits were equal to all five men. You are a blessing and curse, he told her. You keep the men happy and entertained, but you can just as easily make them jealous. And that would create problems for the mission. He paused before adding, Remember, the mission is everything. Those words were emblazoned somewhere in every room and cubicle aboard the ship. The Mission is Everything was the motto of the space corps, and that statement shaped their every thought and action. They were just circling into their last orbit before final descent when the meteorites hit. Another problem with flying in concealed mode is that you cannot use full shields, and your own sensors arent as sensitive as they would normally be. The sensors did not warn of the approaching meteorite storm because of their size. The individual meteorites were extremely small, but because they were traveling at such high velocity their energy was sufficient to penetrate the reduced shields and breach the hull in several points. The holes themselves were almost minuscule. Life support was able to maintain pressure, but the impact points were in just the wrong places. Three of the four control computers were badly damaged at a very critical time and the craft was barely in control. The craft had been designed for five men. There was no force chair for Sta-ie-che. So, as they tumbled toward the earth, Captain Ha-ie-mak tore the curtain off the wall which hid the escape pod and literally threw her through the hatch as it automatically opened. He threw the curtain in after her and yelled, Strap yourself in. Were going to hit hard. There was a slight overlay of fear on the captains face and in his voice. Sta-ie-che had never seen that before and she knew immediately that they were not going to hit hard. They were going to crash! As the door to the pod closed, she heard Captain Ha-ie-maks final order to his men, If any of you survive this, it is imperative to the mission that you send out the safe contact message. The damage beacon sent out an attack warning when those meteorite hits. They will think we were shot down and the fleet will come in with weapons charged and firing. He may have said something after that, but the door had already sealed. Shortly afterwards she saw the ground rushing up to meet them. Just before impact, the pod was blown free. Sta-ie-che told herself that the captain had ejected the pod in an attempt to save her life, but she would never know. He may have been sacrificing her in an attempt to save the ship. After all, The Mission is Everything. His motivations would never be known because the ship, itself, was almost immediately lost in a fiery ball of flame as it burrowed deeply into the earth near the top of a large hill. The concealment shields contained most of the explosion before they, themselves, dissolved. Meanwhile, the smaller escape pod skipped off the crest of the hill and bounced across thick vegetation of some sort until it finally came to rest almost a mile from the main crash site. Sta-ie-che climbed slowly out of the crumpled escape pod. She was bruised, but uninjured. The weather on this planet was not regulated, however, and she felt the cold air blow with icy breath against her bare skin. The silky black curtain provided some protection from the cold, so she wrapped it around her body. The first layer, she wrapped tightly against her skin. The rest of the long curtain she wrapped almost like a cape flowing over her shoulders. Well, she said to herself, at least it matches my shoes. *** What do you do when you are the lone survivor of a contact ship that has crashed on an alien planet? The Mission is Everything. she said aloud to herself. Sta-ie-che was not a member of the space corps, but she had heard those words from her father many, many times. She had also heard the last orders of the mission commander and there was no one else living who could possibly carry out his commands. Sta-ie-che knew that she had to somehow make contact with the native population. She then had to somehow convince them that she was part of the space corp. And finally she had to somehow send a message to the fleet that their crash had been accidental. I have to prevent a war between Turillia and... Earth, she said to herself as she started walking toward a nearby clearing in the vegetation. And I have to do that with no means of transportation, and no radio. She huffed to blow her dark green hair out of her face and said aloud in almost a wail, Even if I can find a radio, I dont know the proper frequency or verification codes. Space Fleet wont believe me. With my green skin, I shouldnt have much trouble convincing the locals that I am not from this planet, but even then, I dont know if they will believe me either. She huffed again as her hair once more drifted in front of her eyes and added, Especially since I dont know what I need to tell them other than the fact that the fleet is about to destroy their planet because our emergency beacon thought we were shot down when we were hit by micro-meteorites. She could now see lights moving in the distant clearing and ran toward them. The clearing was some sort of road, and the lights were on a vehicle of some sort that was approaching from the distance. It appeared to have another vehicle hanging from a hoist mechanism behind it. On the side of the second vehicle was a large sign banner that said, Come to Channel 10's Halloween Junkyard Jam. In slightly smaller letters beneath that it said, Halloween Night From Dark Til Dawn. As she stepped out of the corn field, the joined vehicles suddenly slowed and pulled over to stop by the side of the road. A glass partition on the side of the first vehicle opened and a voice shouted out, Are you OK? Did you go off the road into the field? Is anyone hurt? I can send another tow back for your car. Im OK, she answered, hoping that she was pronouncing the words correctly. I just need to get into town. Looks like youre headed for the party, he replied. Thats where Im going. Get in, Ill take you. A light came on when he opened a door on the other side of the vehicle. Sta-ie-che gasped as she realized that he could now clearly see her green skin and hair. She waited fearfully for his reaction, but instead he laughed and said, Neat costume. Then he added, I guess you and I are definitely headed for the same place. Sta-ie-che had no idea what he meant, but understood with relief that he thought that she was disguised in some way for a party. She decided that it would probably be safer to accompany him there and then try to figure out what to do next. She remained quiet as they drove. She wasnt sure what to say, and besides, once they pulled away, it was difficult to hear over the roar of the old engine and the rattle and rumble of the aging vehicle. Whats your name? he said loudly. Without thinking she immediately answered, Sta-ie-che, and gasped slightly as she waited for his reaction to such a strange sounding name. Youre not from around her, are you Stacey? he replied. Youve got sort of a strange accent. Stacey... that was a name she had heard on the videos from this planet. Im from the far north, she answered. The people from the far north on Turillia had a strange way of speaking and she hoped that was also the case on this planet. My name is Jake, the driver yelled over to her. Im the early morning host on Channel Ten. The station does this Junkyard Jam every year on Halloween, and Ive been emceing the dance contest for the last five years. Its gotten raunchier every year, but the station still sponsors it because almost every year, the video of the winner of our dance contest goes viral on the internet. He looked over at her and asked, Did you see last years contest? Yes, Sta-ie-che answered. Then she reflexively added, But I can dance better than that. She wasnt sure whether or not she had seen the particular video of which he spoke, but she was pretty sure that what she said about being able to dance better than the winner was true. Sta-ie-che could dance better than almost anyone. If you can, he yelled back over the noise of the truck, not only will you win a thousand bucks, the station has arranged an interview and a clip on the Today Show tomorrow morning. What is The Today Show? she asked. As they pulled into a large open area with many vehicles parked around it some were even stacked one on top of the other he said, You really arent from around here, are you? Are you telling me that you have never heard of The Today Show? Sta-ie-che gnawed at her lower lip as she debated her answer. Finally she said, I am a pleasure dancer from the planet Turillia. I was with a contact ship that was supposed to land in secret and contact your government leaders. It crashed. Im the only survivor and I have to figure out a way to get a message back to the fleet so they dont think your government has shot us down. She looked over at Jake with wide eyes as she waited for him to respond. She didnt know for sure what he would say, but she absolutely did not expect his laughter. Keep it up, Stacey, he choked out between laughs. If you can stay in character that well for the contest, our winner just might be a green Turillian pleasure dancer. He got out of the truck and hurried over to the passenger door. I tell you what, he said. With that great costume and makeup, I can use you in some clips tomorrow morning on our early show. If you keep in character all night or at least until I leave after the dance contest ends at midnight Ill pay your twenty-five dollar entry fee for the dance contest. With that he ushered her over to the table where a variety of women in various costumes stood in line. Jake dragged her to the head of the line and said to one of the two young women sitting at the table, Lets get her registered so we can get some background shots of her here at the party. He laughed and said, She says shes going to win. Another laugh. Who knows? She might. And if she does, well have a great package for my segment thats going on network. The woman looked up and said, Name? She answered, Sta-ie-che, but when the woman looked very confused, she repeated it as Stacey. Last name? the woman said, not looking up from the form in front of her. We dont have what you call last names on Turillia, Stacey answered. Jake was barely controlling his laughter as he stood behind her. I told her that if she stayed in character, I would pay her entry fee, he said. Just put down Turillia as her last name. Address? I dont know what you want? Stacey answered. Write in the stations address, Jake said from behind her. We can sort out the official stuff later if she actually wins. A few minutes later, she was standing near the side of the stage with Jake. If you dont mind, he said, Im going to save you for last. You got any questions? Stacey looked at the other contestants gathered with her and said, I didnt realize that you have pleasure dancers on your planet. What do you mean? Jake asked. That girl there, she said, pointing to a tall blond in a naughty nurse costume, she is displaying her body as though seeking someone to dance with in a horizontal dance. Only a pleasure dancer would be allowed to do that on Turillia. And that woman who is covered in some sort of dye or paint. Except for some small pieces of tape over her nipples and some sort of cloth that barely covers her sexual opening, she is naked. Is that not the sign of a pleasure dancer? Jake laughed again. I have to admit, your makeup is much better than hers. It almost looks like your hair and skin are really green. He lifted one of the folds of the black curtain which concealed most of Sta-ie-ches body. Hopefully its as good under this witchs robe as what I can see on your face and hands because you are going to have to lose this in order to dance for the contest. Pleasure dancers always dance naked, she replied, unless the clothing is worn to be removed as part of the dance routine. You are precious, Jake answered. Im really looking forward to seeing you dance, but right now I have to do my emcee bit and get this party going. He then leaned in a little closer to her and said softly, A word of advice. If you are really interested in winning this contest, just hang around here at the stage. Let the other girls get drunk on their asses. It doesnt improve their dancing, even if it does really loosen them up. Sta-ie-che was not sure what drunk on their assesor loosen them up meant. Neither was a phrase in the language programs, but from the tone of Jakes voice, it was apparent that it would be better for her to follow his advice. Besides, she wasnt sure how long she could keep up her masquerade in the crowd before she was discovered. So, for the next hour or so, she stood near the side of the stage watching the party. It appeared to her that the primary aim of most of those at the party was to consume as much intoxicating drink as possible and to go off into the darkness to have sex with as many different partners as possible. Not a whole lot different than what young people back home do on some of our own festivals, she thought to herself, but I had best remain fully sober tonight. The deejay, who was also alongside the stage, was playing a lot of music which she had never heard before. Every so often, though, he would play what he called an oldie. Sta-ie-che was surprised that she knew almost all of the oldies, but none of what was evidently new music. I thought I listened to everything that could be picked up, even what was relayed from the outer sensors, she said silently to herself, ... but there seems to be a gap of many years. Then she looked more closely at the vehicles and equipment at the party. The vehicles she was familiar with from the videos were the rusted hulks stacked around the edges of the junkyard. Obviously they were years old and had worn out. The clothing of those few who were not in costumes was also very different from what was expected. Light-years, she suddenly said aloud. Then continuing silently she told herself They forgot about the time it takes for the primitive electronic signals of this planet to get to Turillian receivers. The contact crew was prepared for earth life as it was years ago. She gasped and almost shouted, That means that any message sent to the fleet with this planets technology would take years to get there. My only chance is to send a message that will get to General Wi-cho as he approaches the planet, but before he attacks. She knew from her fathers dinnertime conversations that the fleet would be monitoring the transmissions from the planet as they approached. That, however, could be millions of messages and transmissions. Whatever message Sta-ie-che sent had to be something that would stand out amidst the electronic clutter of the planet. The deejay, standing next to her, startled at her outburst, said, Man! You are really in character. What are you supposed to be? Sta-ie-che replied, I am a pleasure dancer from the planet Turillia. Our contact ship crashed and I am the only survivor. If I dont get a message to General Wi-cho before the fleet arrives, they will destroy this planet. We were hit by meteorites, but our emergency beacon thought we were shot down and sent a message saying that we were attacked. The young man started laughing. So what do pleasure dancers dance to? he asked, pointing down at his control board. Let me watch some of the other dancers, she replied. I have to think. It has to be just the right tune. The existence of this planet depends upon me winning this contest. Whatever you say, he said with another laugh and then turned on his mic to introduce the next song. Finally the dance competition itself began. Sta-ie-che stood by the stage and watched the dancers as Jake introduced them. The first was a young blond dressed in a very short, black dress. She had soft leather, high-heeled boots that came almost up to her knees and a strange, pointed hat. She looked over at the deejay and shortly after that a deep voice came over the speakers saying, I was working in the lab, late one night... The girl swayed slowly around the stage until the music changed and the voice began yelling you couldnt really call it singing He did the mash, he did the monster mash... The girl began jumping and moving around almost like she was running in place and stamping out insects at the same time. Sta-ie-che almost wanted to laugh at how terrible the girls dancing was. Then the girl threw her hat into the crowd and the crowd cheered. Her tiny black dress followed to more cheers, leaving her dancing on stage in just her boots, a lacy black bra, and a tiny black thong. Just as the song finished out with Then you can mash, then you can monster mash, she whipped off the bra and threw it out into the crowd before dashing off stage. The deejay looked up at her as she stood laughing next to the stage. Whats wrong? he asked. They dont train pleasure dancers very well on this planet, do they? she said with a laugh. Shes not the best, he replied with a shrug. Then, as a very drunk redhead wobbled onto the stage, he added, but shes not the worst. The redhead was terrible. She could barely stand up. She dropped her clothing at the edge of the stage, staggered to front, center stage and fell over backwards. She lay there on her back, barely conscious, with her knees drawn up and her legs spread wide as her song continued to play and the crowd hooted and made gross comments. The deejay looked over at Sta-ie-che and shook his head. OK, he said, nodding his head toward the stage, shes the worst... the worst Ive ever seen. And she is the worst every year. At least this year she didnt puke all over the front row. A rather large man dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt with the word Security on it came out onto the stage, picked up the redhead and threw her over his shoulder. He slapped her ass loudly as he carried her off stage, but she didnt respond at all. A few minutes later, a very stunning woman in a cowgirl outfit strode out onto the stage. A white cowboy hat contrasted greatly with the ebony skin of her face. Her white leather dress, even with the row of fringe around the hem, barely covered her ass. It was easily apparent that there was only a very tiny thong beneath it. A skimpy vest more or less covered her ample breasts. It was also very obvious that there was no bra under the vest. White boots with several rings of fringe on the top completed her ensemble. This girl could dance. She bounced around the stage as her music blared. She had a microphone in her hand and was singing along with the recorded song. When it got to a chorus phrase, she would point the microphone at the crowd and they would join with Save a horse, ride a cowboy. The music then changed to an instrumental of some sort and the cowgirl started stripping off her outfit. Unlike some of the other girls, she did not throw her clothing into the crowd, but dropped each piece onto the stage. When she was down to just her minuscule white thong and of course, her boots the chant of Take it off, Take it off, Take it off, roared up from the crowd. In response, she toyed with the string sides of the thong for the final few bars of the song, but it was still in place when she bowed to the crowd at the end of the dance. After a few moments of applause, she turned around and bowed deeply to the back of the stage. When she bent over, it was almost as if she were naked on stage. The thin white stripe of fabric did nothing to hide her rear hole which she presented to the crowd. The crowd roared its approval all the while she was bent over carefully picking up all of her clothing from the stage. She turned to face the audience once again before bowing slightly and leaving the stage. She could win, observed the deejay. It helps a lot if you sing, and especially if you work the crowd like that. If she wins, the video of her dance will be all over the net. If it goes viral, it will be seen worldwide and will be picked up on all the major news networks. I know how to send the message! Sta-ie-che exclaimed suddenly. Youre really into your character tonight, arent you? replied the deejay. I need something to write on, she said excitedly, and the deejay handed her a couple of small cards and a pen. When the music changes... she began writing on the first card On the second card she wrote down two songs. She handed him the second card and said, This is the music I want you to play. Then she handed him a third card with orders to give it to the big earthling dressed in black. The deejay was laughing and shaking his head as she scampered off to take the first card to Jake. By the time she returned, two more girls had danced on stage. Neither was very good. Sta-ie-che stood nervously at the edge of the stage area waiting for her turn on stage. Jake had said he was saving her for last, and he kept to his word. She waited for almost another hour. None of the other girls who came on stage while Sta-ie-che was waiting were really notable, except for another girl who was so drunk that she was barely able to stumble on stage. She was naked as she walked up the steps to the stage, and it was obvious that she had recently had sex. At least she stayed upright. The crowd both cheered and booed as she staggered around the stage attempting to dance. Finally it became so pathetic that the deejay faded out her music and the security man walked onto the stage to escort her off. When she was gone, Jake bellowed into his microphone, Ive saved this final dancer for last because she has come from such a long distance to join us tonight. Put your hands together for Sta-ie-che from the planet Turillia! The crowd screamed and applauded as Sta-ie-che flowed onto the stage, but they soon became silent as classical musical played from the speakers. She was still wearing the long dress formed by the black curtain as she pirouetted on point across the stage like a dancer from the Bolshoi Ballet. As she performed several of the classical ballet steps from Turillia, the silence slowly changed to cries of derision. Sta-ie-che ignored the boos and hisses until the man in the black shirt was walking across the stage. She then curled herself slightly and pointed to the deejay as she pulled a microphone out from the folds of her dress and yelled, Hit it! The heavy twanging beat of that great oldie, Louie, Louie suddenly blared from the speakers. As the security man grasped her dress, Sta-ie-che spun away from him until she was standing naked on the stage. She then faced the audience and began a leg-wobbling dance which she had seen someone named Tina Turner do on several of the older video transmissions from this planet. As she danced, she was singing in time to the music. Ut-ti-ma Wi-Cho, whoa... oh... oh, oh... pela-too-pa-wa-chi... ba-la-me-ka. She repeated it as the music looped once again through the riff, Ut-ti-ma Wi-Cho, whoa... oh... oh, oh... pela-too-pa-wa-chi... ke-na-muka... ba-la-me-ka. Jakes voice blasted over the speakers, Sta-ie-che is trying to send a message to her fellow Turillians begging them not to destroy our planet. She needs your help. Sing along with her.... Sta-ie-che pointed the microphone toward the audience as she sang loudly, Ut-ti-ma Wi-Cho, whoa... oh... oh, oh... pela-too-pa-wa-chi... ba-la-me-ka. ... Ut-ti-ma Wi-Cho, whoa... oh... oh, oh... pela-too-pa-wa-chi... ke-na-muka... ba-la-me-ka. The crowd followed along with her. They were totally butchering the words, but it was loud and raucous. This time in English, she yelled as her dance changed to a bouncing hop across the front of the stage. She then began to sing, General Wi-cho, whoa... oh.. oh.. it was an accident... meteorites... Oh, General Wi-cho, whoa.. oh.. oh.. it was an accident... do not attack... it was an accident... oh, oh, oh. The crowd began singing with her as she spun and danced upon the stage. As she bounded from one end of the stage to the other, she used several of the standard pleasure dancer moves which thrust her cunt or her ass toward the audience while she simulated the pelvic motions of sexual union. The noise from the crowd was a combination of applause, screams, and the drunken shouting of the words she was singing. The record was the long version, so it continued for several more minutes. When the song finally ended she stood straight in the middle of the stage, bowed once using only her head, and strode from the stage as a proper pleasure dancer was expected to do. *** Carson Daley stood in the orange room of The Today Show and said, Halloween always brings out the weirdest of the weird, but this viral Halloween video of last night and today tops it all. We cant show you all of this video. We cant even show you most of it. Even with portions blacked out by our censors, its a little too much for morning television, but heres a small excerpt. The screen cut to the video at the point where Jake was introducing Sta-ie-che. Black squares covered her breasts and pelvic area as she spun out of her dress and began to dance across the stage. The crowds singing was slurred, but understandable. Matt Lauers voice came up over the sounds of the video. We had been planning to show a portion of the winner from our affiliate Channel Tens Halloween Dance Contest anyway, but because of how popular this viral video has become, we flew in the winner and Jake Bolton to join us on the show this morning. The scene cut to a portion of the set where Matt, Jake and Sta-ie-che were seated. As the camera came in for a close up of her green face, he said to Sta-ie-che, I see that you are still in costume. That must be some really good makeup to survive all that dancing and then a flight here to New York. It is not a costume, replied Sta-ie-che. It is the separation curtain from the escape pod to our spacecraft. I was the only survivor. We were hit by micro-meteorites, but the emergency beacon broadcast that we had been shot down. Captain Ha-ie-maks final command was that anyone who survived should get the message back to General Wi-cho that it was an accident and to make peaceful contact. I am hoping that he got the message. She smiled a rather nervous smile and continued, Otherwise, the fleet will destroy earth. Matt was trying very hard not to laugh as he asked the next question. So, do you think he got the message? Before Sta-ie-che could answer, Carson suddenly ran into the image, stopped and looked back into the orange room. I am being told, he said in a very measured pace, ... that our Twitter and Facebook accounts have just been hacked in some fashion. My screens are filled with a message that purports to be from General Wi-cho. He is demanding Sta-ie-che to give the proper contact frequency and verification codes. Sta-ie-che stood up and faced the cameras. She said something in Turillian and then switched to English. I know you can hear and see me, General Wi-cho. And I know that I am but a humble pleasure dancer. She dropped the black garment to the floor revealing her green body. She then stepped out of the shoes and walked closer to the camera. Surprisingly, no one on the set moved to stop her and the directors voice could be heard yelling No! Stay on her! Stay on her! Stay on her! Please do not attack, she continued. It was an accident. We were struck by meteorites that the sensors evidently interpreted as an attack from the planets surface. The proper frequencies and verification codes died with the crew. She paused and a look of deep sorrow covered her face as if for the first time she fully accepted the death of the five men who had become her friends. Then she recovered herself and spoke once again, I am the only survivor. And I am only a pleasure dancer. But as the daughter of Admiral Mo-cha-nee, I was bound to complete the mission. This was the only way I could think of to send you a safe contact message. She paused and looked directly into the camera in front of her. The mission is everything, she said quietly. Tears of relief were streaming down her face as she added, Peaceful contact has been made. I have discovered that the people of this planet are not that much different from the people of Turillia. Peace is definitely possible between us if we both want it which Im sure we both do and if we are willing to work toward it. She paused once again to wipe a tear from her eye and said softly, I am sure that the government of this planet will transmit all needed contact information to you shortly. *** And that, my friends, is how one Halloween night, a naked pleasure dancer from the planet Turillia became the first alien ambassador to planet Earth. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

A Second Visit from Saint Michael - A Halloween Story by The Technician Halloween, Slavery, Public Nudity, Public Flogging, Ancient gods. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Saint Michael returns at Halloween to save seven more women. In this sequel to "A Visit From Saint Michael," a reporter is recruited by Saint Michael to help rescue six young women from sexual slavery. He agrees to do so because his actions will also rescue his girlfriend who was taken by the same slavers as she was trying to investigate the first girls' disappearance. A few of the references in this sequel will make more sense if you have read "A Visit From Saint Michael," but it does stand totally on its own and can be enjoyed even if you have never read the first story. This story centers around non-consensual pain, humiliation and slavery. If such a premise disturbs you, then I would advise you to skip this story. Or you can skim past those sections and read a very interesting tale involving one of the "old gods" of Mexico and much of South America. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2016 by The Technician ( [email protected] ). Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * I was sitting at my desk staring at my computer monitor. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. I was supposed to be writing an article for the paper's website, but my mind was blank. All I could think of was Maria. She had been missing now for almost a week. The fact that tomorrow was Halloween and we had planned to go to a major party together downtown didn't help. Our costumes were delivered last week. We ordered them on-line and had them sent to the office. When they arrived, I hung them on the coat rack against the back wall. I was going to be The Grim Reaper, complete with a fake scythe. She had ordered an angel costume... It wasn't exactly a slutty angel, but I didn't think she would be sending pictures of her costume to her mother. The paper officially has a policy against "intra-office fraternization." That's actually the wording they use in the employee guidelines we all have to read and sign once a year. But the reality is that as long as it doesn't cause any delays in meeting deadlines, they really don't care who sleeps with whom. Maria and I are at that stage in our relationship where we aren't really living together, but before either of us decides what we are going to wear for the day, we have to remember whose apartment it's in. Ultimately I'm the one responsible for Maria being missing. Part of the reason we met was that she was fascinated with my Halloween Story, "A Visit From Saint Michael." When it came out, she asked me how much of it was true. I stalled and made a few jokes, but she persisted. Finally, I broke down and told her, "All of it." I was afraid she would think I was some kind of nut, but to my surprise, she didn't question Saint Michael or as the Mexican girls had called him, Santa Muerte or Mictlantecuhtli. Instead, what she wanted to know was whether or not it was true that perverts and deviants those were her words still made it a practice of enticing young girls from the hills of southern Mexico to come to the bigger cities of Mexico or the United States so they could use them as sex slaves. I told her I didn't know for sure. She exploded at me, "Do you mean you call yourself an investigative reporter and you didn't follow up on what might still be happening today in southern Mexico?' She put her hands on her hips and yelled in my face, "Why the hell not?!?!" I looked down at the floor. I couldn't face her. I was ashamed of my answer. Finally I sputtered out, "I was afraid. I didn't want to risk meeting up with Santa Muerte again." The anger and frustration with myself exploded out of me. "I knew I should have. But one meeting with Mictlantecuhtli was enough! I didn't sleep for a month when I first wrote that story. I kept dreaming that he wasn't satisfied with what I wrote and was coming back for me." At last, I looked her in the eye and said, "I really don't want another visit from Saint Michael." She looked back at me in shock. Her eyes widened. "My God!" she said. "It is all true. Saint Michael, the girls, the mansion, everything. It's all true." "I told you it was," I replied softly. We decided to talk more about it over dinner. One thing led to another, and we ended up in bed at her place. We've been together ever since. Then about two months ago, Maria laid a printout on my desk. "Did you see this?" she asked. "It's in Spanish," I replied. "I'm not Hispanic like you are. The only Spanish words I know are cerveza, fro, and bao. That gets me a cold beer and a place to piss." She ignored my attempt at humor and picked up the printout and held it out for me as though I could actually read it. Then she said, "It's from a website that keeps track of abductions in Mexico there are a lot of them. This particular article caught my eye. It says that every year for the past five years, six young women from rural southern Mexican villages have disappeared in the week before Halloween. All of the women were between eighteen and twenty years of age and all had talked about going north to Estados Unidos to get jobs as maids. They were never seen or heard from again." She slammed the paper back down and said, "My sources say that the girls end up being sold as sex slaves... or worse. It's Marvin Summerfield all over again. I'm going down there, track these bastards down, and expose them for what they are." That was the last time I saw her. She texted me regularly when she first arrived in southern Mexico. She also sent in several lead up articles to be published once she had her big story. But six days ago, the texts stopped. I checked with the hotel where she was staying and was told that she had abandoned her room. They informed me that they would keep her belongings in storage for one year before disposing of them. I contacted the Mexican Federal Police, but as soon as I explained what Maria had been up to, the officer said, "I am sorry, Seor, but if she went down into the hill country, there is nothing we can do." There was a short silence on the phone and then he said softly, "I am very, very sorry, Seor, there really is nothing I can do. If she went up into the hills, she is most likely dead already anyway." I don't remember if he hung up on me or I hung up on him. I haven't really been able to work since then. Now I was supposed to be writing an article about the strange coalition of folks who have come together to protest the latest police and political corruption scandals in our country. I sighed one last time as I stared at Maria's empty desk and tried to get back to the story that was due before the weekend. I knew that there was a saying that I had once heard that would make the perfect headline for the story I wanted to write. Strangely, when I am suffering from writer's block, if I can put the right title to a story or the right headline to an article, I find that the words begin to flow. "What is that saying?" I said aloud to myself. A soft voice answered me from across the room. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," the voice said. "Yes! That's it," I exclaimed. And then I froze literally. Fear poured over me like an icy waterfall. My fear was not from the fact that I had thought that I was alone, but obviously someone was in the room with me. My fear did not come from the fact that whoever it was had answered my question without having any way of knowing what it was I was actually asking. What poured deep, soul-freezing fear into the very depths of my being was the fact that I recognized that voice. I knew who was in the room with me. Mictlantecuhtli had found me again. A very handsome young man stepped up to my desk. "I believe we have met before," he said in that smooth voice that is impossible to forget once you have heard it. "What do you want?" I asked. I tried to sound sure of myself, but I know that my voice shook with fear. "We now have a common enemy, my friend," he said softly. "And as you know, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. We friends have the opportunity to do a favor for each other that will result in the destruction of our common enemy." "What do you mean?" I asked. My fear was starting to ebb... slightly. "We have always had much in common," he answered in his smooth, reassuring voice a voice that continued to scare me senseless whenever I heard it. "For example," he continued, "your first name is also Michael.'" I have always used my initials, "MH" in my byline, but yes, my first name is "Michael." "Why is that important?" I asked. He answered with a question of his own. "What was the last thing you told Maria before she left? What were your exact words?" "I told her," I answered shakily, "that if she should run into trouble down there, just to call on me and I would come down and save her." My body shook from sobs I could not cry. My eyes burned from tears that would not fall. "But she is dead!" I wailed. "I never heard from her. I don't know where she is. I never had a chance to save her. She's dead!" "No, she isn't," he answered firmly. He paused as I struggled to make sense of what he had just said. "Maria isn't dead," he said loudly. "She is still alive!" Then in a much softer voice he added, "And I am giving you the chance to save her and six other young women." My fear evaporated. "What do I have to do?" I asked. "There is a very special Halloween party tomorrow night at a ranch on the Mexican - U.S. border. You need to attend that party. That is all you need to do. I will do the rest." "How will I get in?" I asked. "I'm sure it's by invitation only." He touched my desk with his finger. When I looked down, beneath his finger was a very expensive-looking envelope. "You already have an invitation," he said with a smile. "And your expenses are paid in advance" He touched his finger to the desk again and a ticket and boarding pass appeared beneath it along with a significant stack of money. He slid the ticket and boarding pass across the desk toward me as he said, "You have been booked on an overnight flight to San Antonio. A limo will meet you at the airport and drive you south to the ranch. It is about a five-hour drive." My voice was again somewhat shaky as I said, "I'll do it. If it will get Maria back, I'll do it." "There is only one thing I must ask of you," he said. His voice had lost some of its smoothness. There was an edge of anger no urgency to his voice as he said, "No matter what you see, you can do nothing until after midnight. No matter what happens... no matter what is done... no matter who you see... or what is done to them... you must do NOTHING until the clock has struck the midnight hour. Do you understand that?" I nodded my head yes. He then explained to me exactly what I would have to do. I have traveled first class only once in my life. And I have never had an express bypass through security... ever. I thought carrying a large scythe even one with an obviously fake, plastic blade would be a problem, but it had all been arranged. In no time I was on the plane. My costume robe and mask was packed in my carry-on bag above my seat. My scythe was safely stored in a closet at the front of the first class area. When we got to San Antonio, I scanned the crowd looking for the limo driver. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to find him, but luckily he found me. I guess carrying a six-foot scythe through the airport sort of made me stand out. I'm not really sure how long the drive actually was. I was asleep for most of it. I woke up briefly when the driver went into the drive-through of a fast food place in some small town and got us lunch. Then around five, he pulled over at a truck stop just outside a nowhere town near the border. "We still have a few hours to kill," the driver said. "May I suggest someplace where you may eat a leisurely early supper?" "Why not?" I replied, expecting to sample Texas truck stop cuisine. He pulled out of the truck stop, however, and drove me to what appeared to be an upscale restaurant on a hill overlooking the ranches of the area. "You have a reservation," he said as he dropped me at the door. I will pick you up back here at exactly 7:30. When I stepped inside, I discovered that it was a very upscale restaurant. I also discovered that my meal including a generous gratuity had been paid for in advance. "The only limit," the waiter explained, "is that you are allowed only one alcoholic drink." I ordered the steak which the waiter suggested and also a glass of the wine he recommended. Since I was never given a menu or a bill, I have no idea what the meal would have cost if I were paying for it. I was pretty sure that it was way beyond what I could afford. Since I had the time, I ate very slowly and savored each exquisitely-prepared bite. I then relaxed with a cup of coffee or two and watched the local couples and families come and go. For being in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere, they did an amazing amount of business. Finally, after a sweet dessert whose name I would never be able to pronounce, I left. It was exactly 7:30. My driver pulled up as I stepped outside. I reached for the door handle, but somehow he was able to race around the long stretch limo before I could do so and open the door for me. "You had best put your costume on in the car," he said in a very clipped, almost English voice as I slid into the back seat. My carry-on was on the rear-facing seat and there was plenty of room for me to slip the loose- fitting robe over my suit. A voice through the intercom speaker from the front said, "You can wait with the mask until just before we arrive. We will be there in about an hour." A little after 8:30 we pulled up in front of what looked like a plantation house from the old South. It had huge, white pillars and a large light hanging from the ceiling of the portico and everything. A doorman dressed in full, red livery opened the door and stood stiffly at attention as I stepped out of the limo. At first I had a little trouble seeing through the skull mask which covered the upper portion of my face, but once I adjusted it a little, everything was fine. I was escorted to a huge ballroom where a large number of small, round tables had been set up. Most tables had two or three people sitting at them. Everyone was in costume, or at least their faces were concealed behind masks. I was seated at a table by myself. A waiter offered me a glass of wine, but I answered as instructed, "I'm bidding tonight. I need to keep a clear head." The waiter returned a few minutes later with a tray of soft drinks. I selected something from the tray that looked like 7Up and set it on the table in front of me. I then dropped a twenty on the tray... also as I had been instructed. I was supposed to look like one of the rich buyers for whom twenty, or even a hundred dollars was pocket change. I then settled back to watch and observe. As my eyes got used to the darkness of the room, I was able to make out more details of the people sitting at the other tables. Everyone in the room, with the exception of the wait staff and a rather rough-looking gentleman standing on stage, was masked. Most were wearing costumes of some sort. At first I thought that many of the women present were Star Wars fans because there were over two dozen Princess Leia slave outfits. At least there were over two dozen young women in chains sitting or kneeling on the floor at the feet of masked men at the tables. When my vision cleared further, however, I realized that none of the Princess Leias were wearing a metal bikini. In fact, none of the young women were wearing anything. And the collars and manacles and chains looked very real. They were obviously much sturdier than some cheap costume accessory. These were not make-believe Princess Leias. They were real slaves at the feet of their Masters. I heard the rattle of chains and my attention was drawn to one female slave whose Master was pulling on the chain which was attached to her collar. He was using the chain to draw her head between his legs. His manhood protruded from his trousers and was already erect. As her head drew closer and closer to his throbbing shaft, he reached out with his other hand and grabbed her hair. He transferred the first hand from the chain to her hair on the other side of her head and pulled her tightly to his crotch. I could hear her gagging slightly as he used her head like a living Fleshlight and masturbated himself to climax. He grunted softly as he came, but otherwise remained totally quiet. After the grunts, he continued to thrust her head up and down his shaft for a few moments before pulling her back to arm's length and letting her drop. She crumpled into a ball at his feet. The shaking of her body told me that the girl was sobbing deeply, but I heard nothing. The chains rattled as the man straightened them out and lifted slightly. The slave returned to a kneeling position facing outward toward the crowd. The lower portion of her face was wet and slimy. It reflected the stage lighting as it grew brighter. With the room growing brighter, I looked to see how many naked slaves were present in the room. I'm not sure I was able to see all of them, but I had counted at least twenty-eight before a loud voice drew my attention back to the stage. The rough-looking man on stage was standing in the center of a spotlight, holding a microphone to his mouth. "Gentlemen," he began, "each of you has been invited to this special Halloween party tonight because Seor Cortez has some special property which he wishes to sell. Our auction will begin right after midnight, but in these few minutes we have left before then, I want to preview the merchandise for you." The lights on the rest of the stage came up revealing a line of seven women chained to what at first appeared to be a shoulder-high fence made of six by six or larger lumber. The thick, coarse wood was almost the size and shape of a railroad tie. Maybe that's what they were. The point where the chains were bolted through the wood corresponded approximately to the width of a railroad track. Looking closer, I realized that it was not a fence. Instead, each girl was chained to an individual frame of some sort which was sitting on a wooden base. There were two upright posts about four feet high which were firmly attached to the base. The crosspiece was then apparently bolted into the top of the upright. The girls were facing away from the frame so that they were facing the audience. Six of them were wearing homespun peasant dresses. The seventh was wearing jeans and a thin tank top of some sort. Both the jeans and the top were covered with grime and appeared to have been slept in more than once. All had black cloth bags over their heads. The man walked up to the first girl and said, "This is Lot Number One." He reached out and stroked her breast through the rough fabric. She frantically thrashed her body attempting to get away from his touch. From the sounds coming from beneath the hood, it was obvious she was gagged in some fashion. "Of course," he said, "we do not expect you to bid on something sight unseen." Two men, also with their faces unmasked, came onto the stage and stood on either side of the struggling young woman. Both had knives in their hands, and they began cutting the clothing from her body. Her muffled cries became more frantic as they sawed through the tough fabric. In a few moments, the blouse and dress or what was left of them was lying on the floor at the girl's feet. The two then set about cutting through the several layers of home-made slips and petticoats which had been beneath the dress. Soon those garments joined the dress on the floor. The girl's undergarments were also homespun and homemade. Below the waist she was wearing what appeared to be a loose-fitting pair of old-fashioned pantloons, which looked somewhat like a baggy pair of men's boxer shorts. There was no elastic at the waist, but instead they were held in place by a rough-looking, twine drawstring. The men cut the drawstring and the pants began sliding down off the girl's body. She spread her knees attempting to keep the bloomers in place, but they continued to slide downward until her hairy crotch was showing just above the waistband. The two men then reached in with their knives and cut the sides from the shorts, allowing them to fall to the floor. Above the waist, she was wearing a homemade brassier which was not much more than a couple of soft pouches which covered, but did not support, her breasts. When she felt the cold of the knives on her shoulders beneath the bra straps, she renewed her struggles. Those struggles became even more frantic as the knives moved to her sides and the cloth was cut from her body. She was now totally naked. "I present to you," the rough-looking man said loudly, "Lot Number One!" He then pulled the bag from the struggling naked woman's head. Her eyes were wild with fear as she struggled in her bonds. There was a knotted piece of fabric wrapped around her face with a large knot tied in it that was centered in the her mouth. One of the men reached his knife up alongside her ear and cut upward through the fabric. She spit the bundle of cloth out of her mouth and immediately began screaming. "Silencio!" the man screamed. "Silencio!" he repeated. The third time he said it, his arm slashed out and a whip of some sort slapped across the girl's front." "Silencio! Silencio! Silencio!" the man continued to command. Each time he screamed out the word, he slashed with the whip in his hand. The whip appeared to be a piece of leather about three inches wide and three or four feet long. The last two feet of the leather was split into two smaller straps with about a quarter-inch gap between them. The man did not seem to be very accomplished with the whip and struck rather wildly, but the leather still made a loud smacking pop when it struck flesh, causing the girl to yelp and scream in pain. Finally the pain of the whip and the repeated cry of "Silencio!" had the desired effect and the girl was reduced to more or less quiet whimpering. Her body was shaking violently as she forced herself to be quiet despite the shame and pain she was feeling. "And see," the man said to the crowd, "she can be trained. A month from now she will be doing whatever you desire and thanking you for the privilege of doing it. The man then moved on to the second girl, leaving the first staring wide-eyed out at the masked faces staring back at her. The second girl was already trembling in fear before the knives began stripping away her clothing. Her body vibrated and bounced as the men cut away her many layers of clothing, but she had heard the cries of "Silencio!" and more importantly had heard the sound of the whip striking bare flesh, so she remained silent. Once she was totally naked, the man ripped the cloth hood from her head and loudly announced, "I give to you, Lot Number Two." The men with knives then cut the gag from her mouth. Unlike the first girl, she did not spit the cloth from her mouth and remained quiet even after it was removed. "Do you see how well they learn," the man said with a self-satisfied smile and chuckle. "Seor Cortez spares no expense or trouble in acquiring the best for you." He stepped slightly forward and said, "I am sure that your bids will reflect the quality of this merchandise." He then stepped back in front of the third girl. "This is Lot Number Three," he said almost matter-of-factly. When the men began cutting the dress from her body, a puddle of liquid suddenly formed under her body as she lost control of her bladder. The forked whip struck three times as the man screamed something at her in Spanish which I could not understand. Her gagged screams could be heard with each blow of the whip. Once she was totally naked, the man said gruffly, "Turn her." The two men with knives opened up the wrist restraints which held the young woman to the frame and forcefully spun her in place so that she now faced the frame. They then re-closed the restraints. The man with the whip stepped slightly to the side and flailed seven times with the forked whip. Fourteen welts appeared across the girl's back. When he was finished, she was practically lying across the top of the frame. The men with knives cut the gag from her mouth and she began to scream. Once again the man yelled out, "Silencio!" and the whip slashed across her ass. A red double welt immediately appeared on her ass cheeks. Her screams became louder and the man responded with another cry of "Silencio!" and another lash of the whip. He continued to repeat his command and his slash of the whip. "Silencio! Silencio! Silencio! Silencio! Silencio! Silencio!" he screamed as he brought the whip down again and again and again on the unfortunate young girl's ass. I am not sure if she was eventually able to control her voice or just passed out from the pain, but she was finally reduced to silence and lay unmoving over the top of the frame. The man turned to face the audience and said, almost apologetically, "Some merchandise is a little more high-spirited than others, but once you have broken their will, they make excellent slaves." He chuckled slightly as he moved on to the next girl. She stood docilely as the two men cut the clothing from her body. When her hood and gag were removed, she remained quiet, staring out into the crowd as if she were in shock. The next two girls also remained quiet, but their eyes were not blank like the fourth girl's had been. Their eyes were filled with fear as they stood naked and trembling before the men who would bid on them and purchase them like cattle. After the first six girls were naked, the two men sheathed their knives and spent a few minutes picking up the cloth that littered the stage at the girls' feet. One of them used a bundle of the cloth to wipe up the piss from between the third girl's legs. As they were working, I noticed that all six girls were exactly the same height and weight. They also had identical body shapes. There seemed to be very slight differences to their faces, but I would be very hard-pressed to tell them apart. It was obvious that they came from a closed genetic pool indicative of a remote village with very little interaction with the outside world. The seventh girl, however, was taller. Her skin, though still brown, was much lighter. Even without the obviously store-bought clothing, it was apparent she was not from the same village as the other six girls. It was not just her skin color or height or clothing that told me she wasn't from the same village, however. I knew for sure that the seventh girl was not from the same village because even without seeing her face, I knew that the seventh girl was my Maria. When the men with knives moved to stand on either side of her, I nearly threw up. If I had a weapon, I would have rushed the stage and taken her to safety. Even with just a plastic scythe in my hands, I felt myself starting to rise out of my chair, but Saint Michael's words suddenly rang out in my mind. No matter who you see... no matter what is done to them... you must do NOTHING until the clock has struck the midnight hour. Do you understand that?" I slumped back down into my chair. "Yes," I said aloud, "I understand." Tears were wetting the inside of my mask as I watched the two goons cut Maria's clothing from her body. As her jeans fell to the floor, I could see bruises on her legs. After the panties were gone, the double welt pattern of the rough man's long whip was obvious on the sides of her hips. It looked as if she had been whipped badly from behind and the tips of the whip had curled around her ass to strike the sides of her hips. "We have a special addition to our auction tonight," the man said. "She is a gringo reporter who was snooping around trying to find out who we were." He laughed. "I think," he said with almost a snarl, "that we should let her see her future owners." With that he reached forward and snatched the bag from her head. Surprisingly, she was not gagged, but her eyes had that faraway look of a beaten dog. She stared out at the masked crowd for a moment with a blank expression on her face. Then her face suddenly changed. Her mouth became firm and set and she stood upright in her restraints. There was now fire in her eyes. She was badly beaten, but she was not yet broken. Standing there with her hood in his hands, the man said, "Perhaps someone would like to come forward and sample this tasty piece of merchandise and tell us if she is worth bidding on." I don't know if it was my fear of Saint Michael or my fear that I might lose Maria if I acted too soon, but something kept me in my seat. I wanted to run up on that stage. I wanted to save her from the terror she was experiencing. But it was not yet midnight. My hands were gripping the table so strongly that I was nearly lifting it off the ground. I could feel my muscles quivering as I kept repeating to myself over and over again, "Midnight. Midnight. Midnight. Midnight. Midnight." Maria screamed once again and I looked back at the stage. The MC, or whatever he was, now had his hand nearly buried between her legs. "This one's not a virgin," he said with a sneer. "But she is VERY expendable." He smiled out at the crowd, but it was still more sneer than smile. Then he said, "In fact, it would be best if she were used up and disappeared so that she could never be found. That alone should make her desirable to some of you." Maria screamed again. This time it was more of a wail than a scream. It was the last plea of someone who knew that they had just been condemned to death and would soon die horribly alone and forgotten. Then I heard it. I didn't remember seeing a clock tower anywhere on the ranch, but I very clearly heard a tower clock begin to strike the hour. It rang the traditional chime and then began the slow bong, bong, bong, which counted out the hour. I counted the bell strikes and stood up at ten. I started walking toward the stage, using the handle of my scythe like a long walking stick. By the time the sound of the final bell had faded away, I was standing directly in front of the stage. The MC said brusquely, "I am sorry, Seor, but you will have to go back to your seat so we can start the auction." In response I took off my mask. "Maria," I said loudly. Her eyes flew open. She stared at me for just a moment and then yelled out, "Michael, save me!" The other six women on the stage began yelling in their strange Spanish. I could hear something that sounded like Morty and then something that sounded like Mickey Choo Choo. That was the same way Marvin Summerfield had described the cries of the women that night at his mansion. I knew to whom they were calling out. They were calling for Saint Michael. I stood motionless as I had been instructed to do. Maria called out again "Michael, save me." My body wanted to rush up on that stage and release her, but my mind was somehow able to hold me in place as I followed his explicit instructions. Maria called out once again. This time it was a wailing scream. "Michael, please!" she cried, "Save me!" That's when everything stopped. Suddenly, all noise disappeared. Everyone was frozen in place. It was as if I were now standing in a wax museum. "Take the women outside," came a voice from alongside me. He was standing next to me. I watched in amazement or was it horror as Maria stepped out of herself and walked over to me. Her wax statue remained behind, but she was now beside me. Then the other six women on stage also emerged from their wax cocoons to join us. "We need to leave," I said. "All of them," came the voice from before and I turned to see the two dozen or so naked slaves step out of their kneeling wax statues and begin to walk over to me. "Take them outside," he ordered. "I have work yet to do in here." The women and I hurried out the front doors of the mansion. My stretch limo was waiting for me. So were eight or ten beat up pickup trucks and vans. One older gentleman in peasant clothing hurried up to me and said in very broken English, "He told us to come here tonight at midnight and that his padre would bring our daughters back to us. He has kept his word. Thank you, thank you, thank you." All the while he was speaking he was pumping my hand furiously with both of his own. Something followed his thank you", but I couldn't catch what he said. I looked over at Maria and she told me, "He said something about a padre, but I couldn't catch most of it. It's a Spanish dialect I have never heard before." "Who told you?" I asked him. The peasant raised his weather-toughened face toward the sky and said "The Old One." I wanted to ask him whom he meant. Hell, there couldn't be that many people in his village older than him. He looked to be somewhere way north of ninety. Actually, there were many things I wanted to ask him, but my driver was gesturing wildly to me that we had to go. "Hurry!" I shouted. "Hurry! We don't have much time!" I don't know if they could truly understand my words, but they understood my concern... and fear. I helped Maria into the limo and they hustled the naked women into the pickups and vans. We all then sped away from the mansion. When we reached the main highway, my driver turned north. The remaining vehicles turned south. As we headed back toward San Antonio, the driver spoke to us through the intercom. "There is clothing in the bag on the seat," he said. "Either a dress or a pair of jeans and a blouse...your choice. Shoes and sandals are on the floor. There's also underwear and a bra." Maria dressed hurriedly. I was sure she would choose the jeans, since she almost never wore a dress. But to my surprise, she slipped the dress over her head. Noting my expression she said simply, "My ass is way too sore to squeeze back into a pair of jeans." She then leaned against me and promptly fell asleep. I must have also fallen asleep because it seemed like only a few minutes later, rather than the hours I expected, when we pulled up at the entrance to the departure area at San Antonio International Airport. The trip through the airport was, if anything, faster than before. A uniformed security officer met us and said, "I have been instructed to guide you through screening and insure that you are safely on the plane." We had no baggage since all I had brought down with me was the Halloween costume and Maria's luggage was in storage at the hotel where she had been abducted. So, in minutes we were aboard the plane. Once we were airborne, she turned to me and asked, "How did you manage that?" "It's a very long story," I began, and started to tell her about my evening visit from Saint Michael. "No," she cut me off. "How did you get us through the airport so fast?" "Friends in high places,' I answered with a laugh. I then suggested that she should again sleep, or at least try to relax on our flight home. Another limo smaller than the previous ones met us at the airport. I wasn't really expecting it, but a driver at the gate was holding up a sign that said, "Michael & Maria" and I asked him if he was there to pick us up. He said he was and offered to get our luggage for us. "We're traveling light," I answered. "There's no need for that." As we started to pull away from the terminal, he slid the glass open between himself and us and asked, "Which apartment? Or do you want to go to the office?" I started to tell him to take us to Maria's apartment, but she cut me off with, "The office. I have to get some things written down while they are still fresh in my mind." Luckily I had my keys with me. Twenty minutes later we were both sitting at our desks typing feverishly. Her story was different than mine. They intersected at that horrible Halloween Party, but even then, there is a great deal of difference between watching someone tortured on stage and actually being that person enduring the torture. After an hour or so, we had both written as much as we could in one sitting and were doing a first edit of our rough drafts. That's when he walked into the room. Neither of us had heard the door open, but suddenly he was there, walking across the office toward us. "Thank you both," he said warmly. "These less-than-snakes knew that I couldn't act against them because they always, intentionally, took only six young women from the villages at a time." I couldn't help myself. I repeated what Summerfield had told me during the interview. "You are powerless to act until the seventh voice calls your name for the third time on the Day of the Dead." "Not powerless," he replied with a smile, "I can always act, but for something this powerful, yes, seven must call my name on the Day of the Dead." He turned to Maria. "They took you because you were interfering. They had no worry that you would call upon me because you did not know of me." He turned toward me and added, "That is why I had to send my priest in my place." "Padre," I said aloud. "The old man said you promised that your padre would bring out their daughters." I stood in shock for a moment and then sputtered out, "But I'm not your priest!" Again he smiled, this time accompanying that smile with a soft laugh. "Oh, yes, you are," he said, "even if you didn't know it." He approached my desk and stood directly in front of me. "When you published the first story, you were speaking for me at my command." He cocked his head and said, "And since then, you have called to me on behalf of other people... or at least you called to me on behalf of one other person." I must have looked very confused. "Do you not know what brought me to you the other night?" he asked. "When you were sitting there at your desk staring at where Maria should be sitting, you whispered a prayer to me. You were thinking about how your beloved was somewhere calling out to you, but you were powerless to act. The words you spoke were, Saint Michael, save her.'" Stepping back so that he could clearly see both of us, he said, "So, you see, you have spoken for me to the people. And you have brought the prayers of others to me on their behalf. Is that not what a priest is supposed to do?" He became serious as he continued, "Even more importantly, being my priest makes you my presence when I'm not there. That means that what is said to you is said to me." Gesturing toward Maria he continued, "So, when she cried out to you to save her, she was crying out to me. Her voice became the seventh voice calling out to me from that stage. The other women saw your robe and your scythe and thought it was me, so they also cried out." He pointed directly at me and said, "Because you, my priest, were there, she and the other six women on the stage each cried out to me three times... and it was after midnight. It was the Day of the Dead." "And when seven voices call out to you on the Day of the Dead," I said evenly, "you must act to save them." "Exactly," he said firmly. "And on this day, with the call of seven voices, I have FULL power to act." He turned to Maria and said, "Tell your story. Perhaps the officials will act to prevent this in the future and I won't have to intercede." Turning to me, he said, "Tell your story also. I assume you still have the links to the story sites from last year." He then turned and began walking away. Once again, as he walked away, he transformed into a hooded figure with skeletal legs showing beneath the long robe. As he reached the door, the figure turned and the skull beneath the hood said, "Tell them that a visit from Saint Michael is terrifying only to those who terrify others." He then faded away. Maria looked up at me. "Do we tell the whole story?" she asked. "You tell the story of yourself and the other women," I answered. "But leave out exactly how I managed to free you." There was a question on her face, which I answered with, "That way the major news agencies will pick up your story and run it above the fold rather than relegating it to the News of the Weird pages." She nodded her approval. "I will tell of Saint Michael," I said. The firmness and anger in my voice surprised even me. "I will have to post it on the same sites I used for the first story. It won't get as much distribution as your story, but maybe his message will get out. "His message?" she asked. "Yes," I responded, "It is a message to those who terrify others. Someday, somewhere, sometime, when you least expect it perhaps on the Day of the Dead seven voices will call out three times for Saint Michael to save them. And you who terrify others will know exactly what terror truly is." "You really are a priest of Saint Michael," Maria said softly. Neither of us could think of what next to say, so we both went back to our typing. The next Monday, Maria officially returned to work. The owner had a banner printed which hung in the office. It said, "Welcome back, Maria." There was also a bonus check on her desk with a note congratulating her for a job well done. After everyone had greeted her and offered their own congratulations, she set something on my desk. It was the printout of an article with the headline, "Feds and Federales Make Joint Raid on Border Ranch." The first paragraph read, "Acting on an anonymous tip, a joint US-Mexican task force raided the ranch of Hector Cortez, a well-known member of the Texas underworld with ties to the Mexican cartels. Because the ranch was effectively two ranches one on the U.S. side and one on the Mexican side both Homeland Security and the Mexican Federal Police acted together in the pre- dawn raid." It continued, "When they entered the mansion, they found evidence of a wild party from the previous night. Many high-ranking mobsters and cartel members were lying on the floor senseless or dead. Most were wearing elaborate Halloween costumes. There was evidence that other people most likely women had been chained up or otherwise restrained in the room, but all of the leashes, shackles and chains were empty. The entire staff of the huge ranch house was found cowering in a nearby bunkhouse. They were of no help to the investigation because they either could remember nothing of the previous night, or fear prevented them from speaking." I looked up after reading the second paragraph. "You know what happened, don't you?" Maria nodded and then said, "They became those upon whom they had inflicted so much pain. Seven times throughout the night, they lived and relived what they had done to others. It was the punishment of Saint Michael." I now wear a small medallion around my neck. It looks like a silver military dog tag and most people think it is in memory of a fallen soldier. It's not. On that little rectangle of silver are three names. "Saint Michael, Santa Muerte, and Mictlantecuhtli." Whenever I see someone who is being unwillingly abused by those more powerful than themselves, I take it out of my shirt and read all three names aloud. Who knows, perhaps on that day I will be the seventh voice that allows Saint Michael to act. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = END OF STORY = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician) The Perfect Sex Toy http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=9639 Senior Project http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=7753 Handcuff Island http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8160 I, Masochist http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263 UMPA Eleven http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952 BDSM Boot Camp http://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=11204 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

THE NEW BIRTH - Part 2 by Psychmstr [email protected] Read all of Psychmstr's stories at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/The_Leather_Room/ THE ASSIGNATION Well, this slave has to say that was a beguiling way of describing a scene of intense pain and even torture. True, it doesn't really regret having done it; after all, what choice did it have? it was the one who wrote the New Birth program and it was only fair and reasonable that when its age arrived it should also undergo the same procedures it described for all qualified slaves. This slave knows it's not very slavish to say so, but it was proud of its courage and strength. it could have flaked out and asked for anesthesia, but it didn't. it could have begged for a few more years with natural balls, but what would be the point? it knew it wanted to develop the greatest body it was capable of developing and it wanted to put that body, and the spirit behind it, into the service of something far greater than its own physical needs. its spiritual need was to serve its Master. With the New Birth program this slave saw the possibility that it would be able to give its Master the benefit of 20 or 25 more years of devoted, high-level service. it has completed the program even as it writes this account (at the direction of Master, of course), and as it looks at its reflection in its Mistress's full-length mirror, this slave must say, it is one incredibly handsome, sexy and muscular stud. The New Birth program it devised for its Master appears to be working successfully if its own development is any true measure. Presently, this slave is standing at "Display." That means it is standing with its feet approximately three feet apart, hands behind its head, thumbs just touching the neck, its chest lifted and pelvis thrust forward, head up, but eyes looking respectfully mid-distance down to the floor. The Display is a powerful position for the slave--it is not at all submissive--and the purpose is to make visible and available to Master all parts of the slave's body. This slave is completely nude--as are all slaves--with its aforementioned cinch ring, PA, navel barbell, and heavy tit rings. The Mistress went ahead and circumcised this slave a month or so after its ball sack had healed, again without anesthesia, as it asked if it could give Her further proofs of its willingness to endure any pain that might increase Her pleasure in this use of its body. To that end, She had also ordered that its tongue be pierced for the insertion of large ball studs and tonight was the first night this slave would be able to use them on Her body. slave dave, my surgical assistant, performed both procedures. The sharp reader may note my use just now of the personal pronoun, "my" in the last sentence. Master permits certain exceptions to the use of personal pronouns. As this slave is an overseer over many other slaves, and commands even free men and women, Master permits its saying such words as "my assistant," "my Master," "my slavery," "my slave brother," "my obedience," etc., although in writing such as this, names of persons of respect, even personal pronouns referencing them, are always capitalized in writing, but references to slaves, even at the beginning of sentences, are always lower case. Master's purpose here is not to make communication among His slaves burdensome. He generally purposes that a slave presenting itself to His consciousness, should have its conception of itself reinforced as a piece of property, as nothing more or less than an object for His use and disposal. With Master's leave, slaves who fully surrender their egos to Him and maintain a regular and close communication with Him, such as i do, may use normal speech rather than object-speech, for the sake of clarity and brevity. Master frequently treats me as an equal, at least in matters of speech, and many times in manner as well, when just the two of us are together. The reader unfamiliar with slavery in our society may better understand this subtle point of distinction if he considers how a dog owner of a much beloved and prized animal might naturally act playfully toward it--with lightness of heart and a joyful attitude. Of course a slave is far more intelligent than a dog, so the level of mutual play, joy and intelligent interaction can be far higher. But just as the dog does not cease being a piece of property, neither does the slave. Slaves such as myself lay under Master's general purpose in permitting slaves to share His consciousness. As His right hand, i am at all times and in all situations to make His life as interesting and as comfortable as possible for Him, taking into account His mood, surroundings, and the conditions prevailing in general. This is Master's Prime Directive. Such an injunction is very broad and relieves Master of micro-managing the lives of His slaves; indeed, as i am in charge of all business and household matters, after Master and Mistress, that burden falls ultimately to me, who, in turn, follows Master's philosophy in relation to all Master's other slaves, serving Master through me. Master's will, also through me, extends as well to His employees, but that is an interesting point to be illustrated later. Because Master and i are so well attuned to each other's needs--Master's my service and surrender; mine, surrendering my ego to Master and serving His purpose--that i can invariably sense when Master wishes me to revert to object-speech. Not infrequently, as will become clear in this account, i use object-speech to intensify in myself the feeling of being used by Master as a piece of His property. Use by Master makes me feel secure, cherished, and appreciated. Master, of course, does not shy away from expressing His joy in the use of my body and mind, whether He strokes my face when He is relaxing in His easy chair as i sit on the floor beside Him, or He praises an idea i offer to Him to increase His wealth or increase the efficiency and productivity of those He places in my charge. At times the two of us even carry on rather extended discussions on this and other matters--so much so that were i not naked and dressed in a business suit an outsider would have no clue to the fact i was a slave. Suddenly, my Mistress appeared in the large room with its supersized custom-built bed. She looked at Her slave. "Mistress?" "Come over here and prepare me for this evening." "Mistress, what would you have your slave do?" "Remove these clips and undress me. By the way, your Master intends to join us shortly. I suppose you took the precaution earlier of thoroughly cleaning yourself out? Tonight I will have your tongue and that huge thing between your legs with the fanciful ring at the end, but he will have your ass." "Mistress, your slave has cleaned itself out that Master may use it thoroughly and not be inconvenienced in any way." "Go over to the small table by the entry and retrieve the silver box that sits there." "Mistress, yes, Mistress." This slave returned with the box, and set it before Her feet as it Presented itself to Her, remaining in that position for Her further orders. (The "Present" position means that the slave enters the consciousness of its Master on its knees, motionless, not sitting on its legs, knees spread shoulder-width, arms locked behind its back with each hand clasping the opposite wrist, chest held strongly, head bowed, eyes down. Any Present position is held until ordered to do otherwise.) "Open the box." "Yes Mistress." "What do you see?" "Mistress, there appear to be two finely wrought silver chains with alligator clips at one end and a fastener clip at the other. Do you wish that i attach these clips to my tit rings, Mistress?" "Yes, precisely. Take out the chains and fasten the clips." "Mistress, Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress." i set the box down at Her feet, took the chains in my hands and attached the fastener to each of my heavy tit rings. "Have you ever had alligator clips attached to your nipples, slave?" "Mistress, Yes Mistress. When Master first trained me, He would put alligator clips on my nipples while i worked out in the gym. He said the pain in my nips would be so great that i would ignore the pains the training was giving my body. He also said that, over time, i would get somewhat used to the nipple pain." "Did you?" "Mistress, i continued to feel pain, but after a time the pain became pleasurable to me. Thank You Mistress." "Well, slave, as you can see, the finger-hold on these clips is cleverly designed to present a very low profile. Your tit rings will be able to move up and down over the clamps without touching them. Tonight I wish to acclimate their use on your tits by clipping them to your large nipples." "Mistress, Yes Mistress. Thank You Mistress. Do you wish me to place my hands in Display position, Mistress?" "Yes. Follow me over to the bed." "Mistress, Yes Mistress." Mistress walked over and sat at the edge of the bed. As She gave the order, i immediately shuffled forward on my knees with my hands behind my head in display position, chest out, and abs slightly tightened, but my muscled torso leaned back somewhat from the vertical to make my nipples more easily visible in the lighting and within the reach of Mistress once She had seated herself. Mistress pinched my right nipple with Her long finger nails and it immediately erected. "There's the right alligator taking a little bite . . . " my eyes blinked involuntarily with the sharp, breathtaking pain this little bite took out of my nipple . . . "and here's the left alligator taking his bite." Do you feel pain, slave?" "Mistress, Yes Mistress, the pain is great. Thank You, Mistress." "Draw near to my lips, slave, and kiss me." Keeping my hands in position behind my head i moved my whole upper body towards Her lips and gently kissed them. She opened Her mouth and invited my probing tongue and i probed Her responsive lips eagerly with the ball stud and my wetness. Soon, as the intensity of my animal passion increased i sought to explore the recesses of Her mouth and She began to make small sighs and took my muscular forearms from around my head and placed them on either side of Her hips. i felt Her firm flesh through the see-through gauze cape She wore. Suddenly my Mistress broke off the deep kiss and looked probingly into Her devoted slave's eyes. "Do you know other uses for that ball stud I had your assistant pierce into your tongue?" "Yes Mistress. Do You wish to teach Your slave how best to give Your body pleasure, Mistress?" "Your Master was right to think you may just work out satisfactorily. Caress my nipples gently with the stud as your mouth travels slowly around my breasts and down my tummy to my clitoris. I love to have my clitoris sucked, especially with a gentle, but muscular studded tongue. Realize that the tongue stud will increase my pleasure a hundred-fold, so you must start very slowly and gently and then, over time, increase the intensity of your licking and sucking. Once I begin to have orgasms from this, learn to pace them, back off somewhat, and then intensify, Variety, haven't you already learned with your Master, is the spice of life?" "Mistress, Yes Mistress. Thank you Mistress." "One thing, slave. You must not cum. You can only cum when I tell you to come, understood?" "Mistress, Yes Mistress. Your slave is not to cum at all until you give it permission. Thank You Mistress." "Later, I will you have mount me, face to face, so that your luscious cock head may enter my cunt an inch or two--but no more. My G-spot is right there and there is no need for you to go further into me. Think of your beautiful cock as a real live dildo. You can use the ring that pierces your cock head to bring me to orgasm on my G-spot. I will pull on your balls to guide your body's actions. Your cock will be drooling pre-come, of course, lubricating me nicely. But you must back off, if necessary, and not cum, even if in my lust I pull you in." "Mistress, Yes Mistress. Thank You Mistress." "Your Master will join us later, as I said. You will bring yourself to orgasm at that time and Master will be able to use your fluid to lubricate his cock when he fucks you." "Mistress, Yes Mistress. Thank You Mistress." "Now rise and get on the bed, on your right side." As i did so, Mistress settled in beside me on Her back, and adjusted Her pillow. "As you can see, I enjoy having some light when a handsome comfort slave pleasures me so I can watch what he does. Begin below my breasts and work up the nipples." my cock was, of course, as rigid as a steel bar and i could feel the pre cum leaking on my thigh. This feeling was a little strange, of course, since i didn't have real balls to tighten up and loosen, but i knew if Master fisted me he would have felt a hard prostate up my stud cunt. If anything, since the New Birth, i was far hornier than i had been for many years and could ejaculate many times per day, if Master or Mistress wished, and frankly, i frequently felt a pressure to cum, but could not, since Master had expressed His wish that i not cum, and now Mistress had forbidden me to cum outright. my dick would have remained, no doubt, more or less erected most of the time anyway, but the cinch ring virtually guaranteed constantly returning hard erections following hard on the softness of periodic semi-erections. Of course, all Mistress had to do was merely to hint that She wanted me to stay juiced up and i would not have thought of cumming. i took a servile pride in surrendering to my Master and Mistress and would not wish to deprive them of any pleasure They might derive from using my body. Surrendering myself, however, tended to overwhelm my libido and it was all i could do to prevent my cock from spontaneously ejaculating, like a highly sexed 16 year old kid's. That's one of the benefits, if one could call it that, of taking the steroid cocktail! The other benefit was having a stupendously muscular and defined physique. i had developed such strength, muscular control, and endurance, that i was prepared to service my Mistress in every way that She could wish, and do so for hours on end. Compared to my daily weight and gymnastic training, the physical demands of Mistress's use of my body were no challenge at all. i lightly raked my tongue stud closer and closer, in a circular motion, toward the large aureoles. i noticed how large Her nipples grew, and they began to throb. i juiced up Her skin with my spit, lots of spit, and used the stud to rake and tap and then use the tip of my tongue to repeat the process so Mistress would experience different textures. i used my lips, of course, and, very, very gently, the edges of my front teeth, and then caressed the distressed and pouting nipples with my wet tongue. i was concerned, of course, that my face stubble did not "sandpaper" Her tender flesh in any way. Even though i had just been shaved a couple of hours ago by one of the bath slaves, if you tried, you could just begin to feel the beginning of fresh stubble, as my beard grew fast and fierce. Mistress began to groan loudly, so i figured i was working Her about right when She began to experience a series of orgasmic shudders. "Fuck me, slave, now. Shove that big fucking dick up my cunt. Do it!" i immediately got up on my hands and knees and positioned myself between Her legs. Her body was throbbing now, in a subsiding flow of orgasmic pleasure, so i raised Her legs, placing them around my waist. She grabbed my cinched cock and thrust it to the portal of Her oozing cunt. Her pheromones wafted up to my nostrils, and while they hit me as vaguely unpleasant, they nevertheless intensified my passion to rut. "I want to feel your body all over me, slave." i stretched out on top of Mistress, carefully supporting my weight so that my large muscular chest and thighs just grazed Her body and radiated my heat down to Her supine form. i maneuvered my rigid cock and began to enter Her pussy. Clearly She wanted more of my cock inside of Her, for She tugged insistently at my ball sac, pulling hard and even twisting, but She also had forbidden me to enter Her more than an inch or two. So i continued kissing Her mouth and playing with Her ears and neck and caressed Her hair with my hands as i supported my upper weight on my elbows and forearms. After a while She grew more and more unmanageable and began thrusting Her hot pussy up into my rigid but suspended cock. She maneuvered Her legs more tightly around my waist and hooked Her calves about the deep notch at the base of my spine where my butt begins to swell out to form a large high bubble. She suddenly had the leverage to encompass most of my cock with Her wet throbbing pussy as She pulled Her cunt up to embrace my meat. Damn that girl was hot! Mistress could not impale Her cunt any further on my dick because of the cinch ring that reduced the available length of cock meat that could enter Her by about 4 inches. That still gave Her a full six inches of extremely thick fuckpole, more than needed by any woman, especially one who claimed She only wanted about 2 inches inside Her! She actually vibrated Her pussy muscles around my cock head and gave me some of the most delightful sensations i have ever felt. The pain from my nipples returned however and began shooting messages down to my cock and i began to spasm into my Mistress's hot cunt. "Yes, fuck me, fuck me, I want your cum, spill it into me baby, oh fuck me harder, harder, HARDER!!! Oh, Jesus, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, Oooooh! Oooooh! Yes, yes, yes, Ahhhhh!" And She went on and on like this. i pretty much stayed hard after making shot after shot of hot jism into Her tight little cunt. Damn that felt so fucking good! i hadn't cum in a couple of weeks and i was thinking Mistress and Master would have me come a few more times tonight. i really wanted the alligator tit clips off my nipples, though. You know how pain like that really intensifies sexual pleasure, but when you've shot a big load--had a really major orgasm-- you've just got to stop the pain. But then i remembered the pleasure my pain was giving to Mistress and soon the pain disappeared and only the pleasure remained. It was a good thing, actually, that Mistress had me "skinned" (i.e. circumcised) some months ago. my dick used to be so sensitive that i just couldn't tolerate any further touching on the glans after i started shooting. Now, of course, i could continue to use my dick head to pleasure Mistress's G-spot, lubricating Her tissues with plentiful cum even as i shot, giving Her more orgasms. my dick stayed hard with the cinch ring at the base of my cock and Her wet thrusting pussy at the head. Still suspending my huge body over Mistress, i kept undulating my hips, pulling out of Her cunt and then pushing in about two inches, letting the flange of dick rub just beyond the cunt opening. About every fifth pull-out, i raised up a little to let my Prince Albert rake across Her clit, very gently, and then make a sexy lateral movement with my hips so the dick would rub a little side to side. i then make circular motions on this tender area of Her genitals; a change gave Her a break from Her continuous orgasms to prop Her head up a little and look to see what i was doing with my fuckpole. "Slave, that feels so sexy. I love the way your stomach muscles ripple when you do that. Oooooh! Jesus! That feels so good. Oh, yes! Oh, lick my nipples slave, yes, yes, harder, O God that feels good." Mistress, again, seemed to fall into a deep chasm of sensuality as i continued to pleasure Her. She would stare at my eyes, drinking me in with them, then look down at my body, feeling it, rubbing it, pulling it, make groaning noises, tilting Her head back on the pillow and just letting out low guttural noises punctuating the screams of ecstasy, the heavy panting and tossing of Her head from side to side. i only just became aware of Master entering the room. By the bed He began to remove His slacks, shirt, shoes and socks. Master, of course, sported a remarkably fit physique--no fat anywhere and nice ridges of muscle showed in his stomach and chest. He was a nicely developed muscle stud, if his devoted and worshipping slave may say such a thing. He didn't show the big muscles, the layering, the striation and definition of His slave, of course. He was much more of a normal-sized guy, even though He was a older than i was, as best i could tell, and about six inches shorter--maybe 5'10". He watched my performance on top of His Wife with real interest and slipped onto the bed gracefully to my right and began to caress my large upper arm, just lightly touching to get my attention. He then moved the back of His hand along my cheek and throat. Master always enjoyed touching and caressing my body and He was clearly becoming aroused as His large dick began to erect as i looked over to him and kissed the back of His fingers. i have to confess, the mere presence of Master discombobulated my fixed purpose in servicing my Mistress. His touch caused shivers of excitement from my cheek and lips where He had permitted me to nuzzle and kiss His fingers down through my neck, chest, stomach, and, naturally, my big cock, even now rhythmically dancing over the wishing well of Her pouting cunt, dipping in and rubbing, and keeping me exactly on edge so that i didn't come. Master's touch always did these things to me, and although i understood the process He used to break me and make me bond completely with His every wish, every whim, His power over my will and mind still astonished me. His physical proximity was an aphrodisiac to my soul, which i realized was as though tortured in mortal pain with His absence. Have you ever loved a man so much that His absence caused you physical pain? Made your stomach upset, made you vulnerable to panic attacks, left your body and spirit, as it seemed, in a living hell of desperate desire and yearning for physical touch? For completion? Have you ever watched the object of your feelings merely rub His rippling six-pack or scratch His balls or ass and wish, right then, that you could be his balls, ass, or stomach, receiving all that attention? i would actually become jealous of His "other" body parts i wanted him so close to me. i knew at some level that my obsession with Master was not completely healthy. i had had crushes on guys when i was in my twenties, even in my teens. Hell, i even had crushes on girls. i had always been versatile. But i do remember that by the time i completed undergraduate and went on to graduate school i tended to have far more crushes on men than women. Maybe men were just a lot more available where i went to school, but there was just something about the male physique and the directness of male passion to which i responded. And from time to time i developed these crushes that would just take a hold of me and make my life miserable. Why, you ask? i couldn't really act on my feelings since these guys were inevitably straight and i was too much of a coward to risk exposing myself as wanting sex with them. So i just suffered. Eventually i discovered that there were men around who were like i was, they liked other men sexually. After a number of encounters i realized something else i hadn't known before. i saw that i wasn't obsessed by all men, just certain men, and sometimes certain women, and that once i got past the beautiful muscled body or the large inviting cock and balls, the intensity of my erotic feelings varied a great deal, depending on the personality of the man. Some men could simply look at me and i would melt into a sort of emotional pool, right there on the ground, to be sucked up and either swallowed or spit out; other men, superficially quite similar, just left me feeling anywhere from slightly intrigued, to indifferent, to almost actively hostile. One thing i did notice about my likes and dislikes. i really hated "sissy boys," "twinks," and any sort of man who acted feminine. If i wanted a woman i would get a woman, that is, if i wanted to put up the drama that all women seem to create for their lovers; but if i wanted a man, i wanted a muscle stud, like my Master here. But my Master turned the tables when he bought me. In my former life, i loved to dominate big muscular men. What can i say? That just turned me on so much. The point wasn't necessarily to inflict pain or anything. i really wasn't into pain or sado-masochism. i saw pain merely as a means to reduce a big powerfully muscled stud to quivering putty in my hands. It positively thrilled me to have him do things i knew he hated to do, but he would do them just because he knew that going against his inclinations gave his dominator huge amounts of pleasure. Now that was power! It made my dick hard as steel every time i did it. i have had quite a few years' experience now, as Master's overseer, and He has put my talents and desires to work for His own purposes. He has been my mentor in showing me how to break new slaves the way that he broke me. i don't know exactly why His psychological system works, not exactly, but i know how to work it and i've been able to use it to great effect in service to my Master in all His business dealings. To a great extent, Master uses me as his right hand tool--i am truly an extension of His own ego and force of will. i mostly know what He is thinking and what He wants before He knows it himself. i "sense" it somehow, especially when i am in His immediate presence. True, after having been absent from Him for a time and then He has me come into His presence, my body and spirit just become "filled up" with Him, like a swoon--He is a sort of blinding radiance to me and i move like an automaton swept up in a huge tidal wave of feeling. But after a short while the wave subsides and i am able to gather up some parts of my scattered consciousness on the solid shore again and try to think about how to serve Him better. For his part, Master intuitively understands the power He has over His worshipping slave. His is a force of nature and He knows it, and uses it to great effect in all His business dealings, in His marriage, and, most notably in the way He manages the large number of slaves He owns, both in His immediate household and in His company industries. "Slave, leave off me now. I must use the bathroom." With those words, Mistress realigned my consciousness back to the here-and-now and i reared back, taking the kneeling Display position--kneeling (with knees wide apart), because it was on the bed and Master was also on the bed, reclined. i was assuming one of the standard slave positions by raising my arms, exposing my pits, and placing my hands behind my head, so Master could fully inspect His slave's body. "Scoot over by me, Jack, closer, right up." Master ran His hands up and down my muscular torso. He caressed my cinched balls and noticed the wetness at the end of my cock head. He knelt down and took my throbbing cock head into His mouth and sucked up His wife's cunt juices and my flowing pre-come. "Damn, that's tasty. Well, Jack, have you given your Mistress all the pleasure She deserves?" "Sir, Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir. i am learning to serve my Mistress with joy and devotion. Mistress has also put these wonderful alligator tit clamps on my nipples to give Her added pleasure as She uses my body to fuck Her pussy and suck Her breasts." "Are they causing you pain, Jack?" "Sir, Yes Sir, Thank You Sir. The pain is extremely intense, especially as Mistress just had me ejaculate and spill my fluid into Her." "I would enjoy witnessing your reaction to my releasing the alligator clips. Let's wait for your Mistress to return, shall we?" "Sir, Yes Sir, Thank You Sir." "Serena, please hurry up. I wish to get started and I want you here." So that's my Mistress's name, Serena. At that moment, She returned and sat on the bed next to Her Husband. "Now Seri, I haven't had the opportunity to really talk to you about this particular slave. As you know, I purchased him slightly more than ten years ago and discovered, much to my surprise and delight, that apart from having a spectacular body, even then, this slave showed great intelligence in all sorts of ways that have proved extremely useful and profitable to me. "It is important, Seri, that you know how to take care of him properly during the time he spends with you and your friends. He is a very special slave. Yes, of course, he remains my Overseer, and he will continue to train slaves for my service. That's not what I mean. "He's special because he has completely and totally surrendered his ego to my will and desires. He is so sensitive, in fact, that he frequently knows what I want him to do or say or not do or say before I have even formulated those thoughts in my mind. I could say he has the ability to read my mind, but how can he read my mind, when I haven't even formulated them consciously? "Because he is so special and subservient, he will do anything you tell him to do, for I have expressed to him that that would be my pleasure. You must, therefore, be careful what you have him do, or tell him to do, or even imply or suggest indirectly that this or that would give you pleasure. He will do things that would hurt him physically if he thought doing them would please you. Do you understand what I am saying to you?" "You mean, dear, that he has lost the sense of self-preservation?" "Precisely. He hasn't lost it with regard to people other than his Master, but in regard to me, his Master, yes. He will do whatever I tell him to do, no matter what the cost or the pain to him personally or to his body. So I must act to protect him. I think of him as one of my body parts, and you should do the same. You wouldn't stick your right hand into a pan of boiling water, would you?" "Of course not, Steve!" "See him now? Jackson, are those alligator tit clamps biting into the flesh of your nipples?" "Sir, Yes Sir, Thank You Sir." "So why do you continue to suffer from this pain? Why don't you just remove the clamps?" "Sir, the purpose of Your slave is to give pleasure to You and, of course, to Mistress. She placed the clamps on Her slave's nipples. It is not Her slave's place to remove them. To do so would be to deprive Mistress of Her choice to decorate its body as She wishes. And it would deprive Her slave's purpose, which is to submit to its Mistress's wishes in all things. Mistress knows that alligator clamps cause pain; clearly She wanted Her slave to experience that pain in full measure." "Well, Jackson, your Mistress now wishes to remove them, don't you Seri?" "Of course." "Tell me, Seri, would you like me to place these alligator clamps on your erected nipples?" "I don't think so, Steve darling. They would hurt me." "Yet you were willing to place them on Jackson's nipples. Why?" "I think I get your point, dear. Don't do things to slaves that you would not have done to yourself, is that it?" "Not quite, my love, but that's pretty good. Obviously when I am breaking the spirit of a man, to make him not merely accept but to love his slavery, I must do things to him that I would not wished done to me. "But these things are merely means to an end. Clearly a slave should not think of itself as a man. It will become very unhappy and its bad attitude will eventually get it executed. Breaking its ego spirit so the slave spirit can be born is a great gift to him. "But inflicting pain after it is completely broken is morally wrong to do, unless you have some reason to believe the slave has somehow lost touch with the slave spirit, or you wish to guide it to a deeper more intimate level of slave consciousness. "For example, it would have been wrong for me to have ordered the cutting of Jackson's balls as I did if my motive was nothing more than to inflict pain or humiliation on the slave. Jackson here cannot feel humiliation in following my wishes. It is his pride and joy in life to make me happy. He knew that I wanted him to live a long life, in peak physical condition, as you see him now. And who does not wish more of life? The only way he could live such a life is if he took the steroids. "But steroids would shrink his balls to the size of peanuts and he knew that I didn't want that. He knew that my pleasure in viewing his body would be reduced if his tackle were not up to par. So he willingly submitted to castration. He insisted on the operation without anesthetic because he wanted to increase the raw animal pleasure we would have in the spectacle. "He wanted to experience this agony as a ritual rebirth; he sought a sort of transformation so he could become the absolutely magnificent creature you see before you. I can't explain this much better to you, but I think I know when a slave appreciates my inflicting pain on him--he knows it's for his own good, he knows he really needs it. "Jackson and I periodically have highly intense pain sessions, so he can reach new thresholds of accomplishment, break new barriers of resistance in his service to me. These sessions are painful for him and exhausting for me, but a level of intimacy and love arises from these sessions that cannot be obtained in any other way. "His purpose in life, remember, is to give me pleasure, and I derive incredible pleasure from our sessions together; indeed, this slave is my prize possession and I love him above all other things. Training him is a wonderful, mind-expanding and spirit-expanding adventure for me; it opens up whole new worlds of devotion, service, and pleasure for him. "But here we have a probable case where you have inflicted pain on this slave without thinking through your reasons. He doubtless appreciated the pain during passionate sex; but the sex just now is over yet the clamps remain. Am I correct?" "Yes, dear." And Mistress carefully removed the left clamp and then the right. The relief was visceral. "Notice, Seri how the tension in Jackson's face is released now. Slave, lie down supine. Your Mistress and I will bring some further relief to your swollen nipples." "Sir, Yes Sir, Thank You Sir." As i reclined i stretched out my huge pecs and continued as before, placing my hands behind my head to give Mistress and Master full access to my chest. Each began to gently lick and suck at my nipples. The pain briefly returned, as they were so excruciatingly sore, but gradually the continued tongue and lip caresses changed the pain into a little bit of pleasure and my cock began to get very hard again. Master left off my nipple as He saw my cock begin to lengthen and harden, and He began to kiss my lips full hard on and probe my mouth with His robust tongue. i was starting to swoon just as little beginning waves of pleasure started to run from the back of my neck down my spine to my ass hole. i felt badly in need of Master's huge cock plunging in my hole, ravaging me. i felt such passionate love for Master. This man had such incredible insight into my nature i felt myself begin to slip away and lose myself in Master's eyes, in His tongue, in His mouth . . . in His simple touch. "You see, my dear, what is happening to this slave?" "Yes, his body seems actually to be vibrating. I can feel the muscles under his moist skin. They seem to making little spasms. What's going on?" "Jackson is experiencing, right now, a huge mind-fuck. I have just fucked his mind and he is experiencing a sort of transport that is at once physical and mental. His consciousness has merged into mine, for a brief period, and where there were two spirits, there now is only one. Right now, Seri, Jackson cannot experience pain. "He is about to experience a regular ass-fuck as well, as this whole scene is turning me on big time. You see here proof of what I do. You've probably heard of the mind-body problem in your college philosophy. Well, I don't really believe that the mind can be separated from the body. Yes, of course, there is an ordinary sense in which we say that something is spiritual and something else is physical, but these are merely abstract distinctions philosophers make. "In this remarkable being before us you see the closest you will likely ever see of how spirit and body can be merged into a single unity. Every time I fuck his mind, he experiences a sort of transcendence, or a merging of his physical and spiritual existence. I have never before found a slave who was so naturally open to my power." "But how did you fuck his mind? I didn't see anything." "I've already told you. To treat a creature such as this as you would wish to be treated, after you have broken his own rebellious and ego-driven spirit, is to offer him an exquisite spiritual experience--almost like the release from the physical constraints of reality where his spirit passes beyond "these mortal coils" and enters a new dimension of reality, a new reality he hardly even knew existed. "This sort of transport cannot be maintained, of course, for more than mere moments, but its effects last, and remembrance of the feelings are never forgotten. So I am able to tap into those feelings this slave has, which he powerfully associates with me personally. "Fucking his mind is not necessarily something I start out planning to do; rather, opportunities come to me in my relation to him, opportunities that I simply ride like giant waves. I am nothing more than the catalyst--giving the slave something he desperately wants to experience as a physical creature struggling to become something greater than he really is. "Remember, these yearnings belong to the ego, and the ego must die, that the seeds of the slave spirit can take root, flourish, and then be born in the form of a completely selfless dedication and service to my will. "Of course, the intense pain sessions I have with him offer at least one major opportunity to fuck his mind, to make an intimate connection to my will where he can feel directly that the body he occupies belongs to me and must be as responsive to my will as my own hand, or eye, or dick, for that matter. "Every training session I ever do with a slave has as its sole object this mind-fuck, to create an opportunity for him to surrender his ego to me as a precious gift and to let my will rule his mind and body. "That's why one of my slave protocols is that a slave not use personal pronouns, that it should always refer to itself as an "it" rather than as a person entitled to use such words as "I" or "me"--in reality a born slave has no "I" or "me" to choose or make decisions. That power it gave to its owner or master when it gave up its ego and let the slave spirit be born. "Once that slave spirit has been born, as it has in Jackson, my purpose is to reinforce and encourage this slave spirit within him. He is yet a man, with a powerful ego, because that is the way of nature--we are separate individuals--yet he continues to offer up his ego to me as a gift, to surrender it to me, willingly, unquestioningly, and I validate his gift to me by accepting it and then using it for my own pleasure. He gives me pleasure; I give him validation and purpose. Pain sessions are just one way--an extremely effective and mutually satisfying way--for a slave to reach deeper within himself, to discover another level of ego control that it is possible for him to surrender to me. "Not everyone, Serena, can be a born slave. Most of our slaves are not born slaves at all. They are very obedient, useful, and pleasurable, but only a very few are born slaves, men who have offered up their egos as a gift to their Master and truly let Master rule their lives, without force, without compulsion. "Had Jackson never been sold into slavery, he may never have achieved the extraordinary levels of satisfaction, delight, and pleasure he now feels--he would have gone through life with a big hole in his heart, looking for this, searching for that to fill up the empty space. I have been the instrument through which Jackson has achieved his life's purpose, and I can tell you, that is an honor and a very great responsibility. "This slave and I are united by bonds far stronger than any earthly contract or agreement. He depends completely and utterly on me to provide direction and will in his life; in return, he has given me his life to do with as I will. It is a beautiful and exquisite union of spirits. "I have been speaking in very high tones to you about this extraordinary Master-slave relation I have with slave Jackson, but you should also know that I deeply love him and consequently feel very playful and joyous whenever he comes into my presence. "Protocols, language and behavior protocols, become less important as our relationship deepens and develops, since what we have goes so far beyond mere formality. Do not be confused when you sometimes see or hear the two of us speaking as equals, or playing games with each other, sexual or otherwise. None of these things affects in the slightest degree the fact that he remains my property, my having unlimited and absolute rights of use and disposal to his mind and body and spirit. "Of course, in all this talk about spiritual things, Serena, let's not forget that at the root of all spiritual things is pure sex, lust, and our imperious desires to merge with others, and in that way fulfill our most primitive longings as human beings." End of Part 2 TO BE CONTINUED . . . 2004 Syke Master

THE NEW BIRTH - Part 8 by Psychmstr [email protected] Read all of Psychmstr's stories at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/The_Leather_Room/ THE TRAINING ROOM As i entered the room my overseers immediately fell to their knees, wrists gripped behind their backs and proud eyes cast down to the middle distance between us, in a most respectful Full Present position. i was pleased. "gentlemen, rise. i wish to propose a little contest that should appeal to your fancy and give me much pleasure to boot. There's not a reason in the world that our hard work in training should not, because it is work, be pleasurable, wouldn't you agree?" i didn't expect an answer to this rhetorical question. it pleased me, however, to play with their minds, just for the hell of it. "There's five overseers and i think this father-son duo has, without question, earned a flogging, wouldn't you all agree?" "Yes, Slavemaster, Sir," they all cried in unison. "Good! Well, mace, let me take a look at the Marine. How did his depilation go?" "Slavemaster, Sir. Very well, Sir. While this property shows good definition, further weight-training, vigorous aerobics, and a rigorous diet, should enhance its marketability, especially if its balls are cut, replaced with prostheses, and it starts on a moderate steroid cycle." "Yes, mace, i agree completely with your assessment. i see only one big problem--the property's regrettably hostile attitude." As i spoke i approached the Marine and gently stroked his widely muscled shoulders and allowed my fingers to trace the fine exterior edge of his right lat down to the lower part of the back and then across the gluteus maximus. he would be a very fine addition to the Elite program, yes indeed. i suspected that we wouldn't have much luck with using just plain physical torture, as his Marine training taught him stoicism. i mean, torture would certainly do the job, but i didn't want the property damaged permanently. "clay," i whispered in the property's ear, "i understand how hard it is for you to surrender your will to me. But clay, consider this. you've already surrendered your will to the Marine Corp for twenty years of your life on this earth. you had no problem doing that, did you?" "I didn't surrender anything, you bastard! I supported my men, that's all." "Who gave you orders, clay?" "My superiors, of course!" "So then you agreed, didn't you, to follow the orders of your superiors, for the best interests of your men and to accomplish the military objectives your superiors had, is that right?" "Yes." A wave of doubt seemed to cross the Marine's face when he admitted this, as though it had never occurred to him that when he followed orders he was also 'surrendering' his will to a superior. "So, clay, in a sense, one might say that you gave your obedience to your superior officers, is that correct?" "Yes, I did." "Well, then, clay, what's the problem here? The very Corps that you obeyed for twenty years cashiered you and sold you into slavery. Now clay, you and i might think that this was an unjust act on the part of the Corps and the Court, but the fact is that a change in ownership has taken place. Do you see that?" "Not ownership, you idiot. The Corps did not own me!" "What does ownership mean, clay? The Corps had the legal power and you acknowledged their moral authority to command your obedience, is this not true?" "Yes, but I agreed to it. Nobody forced me to do anything I didn't agree to!" "Ah, yes, i see, clay. you agreed to be bound by the orders of the Marine Corps, is that correct?" "Yes, I did!" "clay, that same Marine Corps court-martialled you for dereliction of duty, and it determined that your penalty would be a dishonorable discharge and penal servitude, or did i get something wrong here?" "No, you've got it right. But I was set up. The only thing I did to get into trouble was fuck the wife of a Marine Corps general! Everything else is a lie. I did my duty toward my men and toward the Corps!" "you and i both know, clay, that none of that makes any difference now. you cuckolded a general and he gave you the shaft of your life, that's it, isn't it?" "Basically, yes." "So, clay, if you hadn't cuckolded the general, you'd be in the Corps right now, wouldn't you?" "Yes!" "Doesn't that mean, though, that your conscious decision to screw the general's wife resulted in your own slavery?" "That's how it turned out, yes." "So, tell me now, clay, by your own admission, who is responsible for your slavery?" "Fuck you, bastard!" "you are a slave, then, is that correct?" "Well, I'm here ain't I?" "Yes, clay, you are. And what's more, you belong to me. The Marine Corps gave me complete command of your mind, your spirit, and your body--complete use and disposal. Whether you want to accept your slavery doesn't effect in the slightest degree the fact that you are, now, just a piece of property, for me to do with precisely as i wish. And you know something else? The Marine Corps simply gave to me what you had already given to them. They've just transferred ownership, that's all. Do you understand?" "I understand what you're saying, but I was not treated justly!" "That may be true . . . most probably it is true. It is also true that you are now just a piece of property. It is my job to help you realize that fact, too, clay. we all want life, clay. i have the power of life and death over you. The question is, do you want to live, or do you want to die?" "What kind of a stupid question is that? Of course I want to live, but life is not the highest value, honor is!" "Is there no honor, clay, in offering service, your supreme obedience, to those who have bought and paid for you?" "What are you talking about?" "In good faith, clay, i have purchased you from the Marine Corps. i didn't give up good money just to buy an assemblage of body parts to be sold off if somebody somewhere needs to have your kidney or heart or skin for a tissue transplant. your son here would be a better candidate for the organ banks in any case since his organs are so much younger and less worn out. "i could do that, and i will do that if that's all you're going to be good for. But i have been thinking, clay, that you've got a lot more to give--a lot more--than just a few spare parts. we can't transplant your brain, we can't transplant your spirit, so if we take your heart, or enough of your other organs for our organ banks we lose out on the use of those things that only you can give us. i can always simply force you to obey, but i want you to obey because i ask it of you, not because you want it. So, what's it going to be, clay?" "You would sell my son to the organ banks?" "If all i wanted were spare parts, sure i would." "How could you do such a monstrous thing to someone who has never done you any harm?" "clay, i see that you really haven't grasped your situation and that of your son fully and accurately. The two of you are simply pieces of property--human animals. The two of you no longer enjoy the dignity and status of free human beings. i can do anything i want to either of you. i am offering you and your son both a great gift--the opportunity to serve me, to obey me in all things, to surrender your will to me. i don't expect that you will be able to jump right in and accept the full meaning of your slavery. how could you? you don't yet understand the full meaning. But i want you to make that first step, to trust that i do what i say i will do, and that if you obey without question, if you give me your unquestioned obedience, you will yet have honor, for that decision, to embrace your slavery, lies with you. "While you chew that over, clay, my assistants here are about to help you understand in a direct physical way what it means to be the property of another, a property that has displeased its Master by showing discourtesy toward others--a behavior that simply cannot and will not ever be tolerated. Properties do only what they are told to do; they seek to increase the pleasure of their Masters in all things, and eager obedience is most pleasing in a slave." i took my leave of clay. "gentlemen, here's the contest. each of you gets to lay four of your best stripes on the body of this ex-Marine. you'll start at the shoulders and work your way down to the muscled thighs. you'll go in predetermined order and keep the stripes seriatim, so the first group will be shoulders only, then lower back, then glutes, then thighs. The winner will be he who lays on the best four stripes that just break the skin without drawing major blood. The prize? First fuck. Second, third, and fourth prizes will also be rewarded with the winners taking their fucks in the order of the award. The last place finisher rims the ex-Marine's hole and cleans up his associates' dirty cocks. Any questions?" clay was, of course, fastened to a St. Andrews cross, facing away from us, arms and legs stretched taut, the fine skin slightly irritated, i could tell, from the depilatory, and my five overseers were given leave to commence their little contest. As they did so, i found my myself looking at the delightfully hairy and muscled back of little tony, his relatively short legs in comparison to the length of his trunk and his long arms. These measures were subtle, it is true, but nonetheless real, and all at once inspiration hit and i knew how i was going to use this property. i would make him a dog. his size would also make his body useful as a piece of mobile furniture. Long i have thought that some canine companionship--in the form of a human animal, of course--would be very useful for me, a four-legged friend to accompany me about my routine chores, an animal that could even serve as chair or footstool, for it was inappropriate for a slave such as myself to use furniture free human beings used. In addition, tony's fur-covered hide seemed to mark him out for this role. i really enjoyed viewing his furry back and voluptuously muscled rump and if he were to become a dog, i could always avail myself of the view. his cunt, of course, would also be available for an idle fingerfuck as i sat upon him listening to my lieutenants make reports. i called dave, my surgical assistant, over the intercom, and he presented himself to me in a matter of moments. "Sir, Slavemaster, Sir." "dave, unfasten that hairy little muscle stud over there on the wall and install him in this training chair." tony was brought over, struggling, but dave had him firmly under control. tony looked at me furiously, for even as i approached the chair the bull whips were laying welts across his father's upper back. Round one was about coming to a close and i would have to judge their quality so the next round might commence. my overseers had, of course, removed the penis gag in clay's mouth to better appreciate the screams and yowls of anguish, and they were not disappointed. little tony, of course, still had his penis-gag and all he could really do was to try to get enough air in his lungs, as the protrusion activated his gag-reflex, making breathing difficult, especially as he was under stress watching my overseers working over his father with evident gusto and high-spirited enthusiasm. Looking at dave, but within hearing range of tony, i said, "dave, what i want to do with this property is turn it into a dog." "Well, Master, its body seems well proportioned for that purpose and certainly the luxurious fur covering the skin makes the choice realistic. Do you wish your assistant, Sir, to make a suggestion?" i nodded. "Male dogs, especially young horny ones like this property is destined to become, are a real nuisance to their Owners, since they are always trying to mark their territory with urine and if given half a chance will begin to hump just about anything they get access to. Such behavior can be quite embarrassing to their Owners. i suggest we infibulate the property's cock in the old-fashioned, Roman manner by inserting a large surgical steel ring through the shaft of the penis, a little behind the glans, and attach the other half of the ring close to the trunk of the slave, passing the ring horizontally through the shaft of the penis through the suspensory ligament. The dog's penis will be bent double so that the head points towards the body, the penis head lying on top of the shaft. As the dog will be moving on all fours, any time it urinates it will be pissing on itself, requiring its Owner or whoever is tending to the animal to insert a foot under the ball sac and retract it somewhat in order to redirect the urine more to the ground rather than the dog's underbelly. Of course, pissing on itself is grounds for punishment, the infliction of which would offer great delight and satisfaction." "What a brilliant solution, dave! Of course the dick will have to be circumcised first. If this dog tries to hump anything, he's sure is going to get the surprise--and the hurt--of his life! That infibulator will be wicked! "But let's consider the situation in more detail. What if we were to insert two smaller rings, one at the base and the other at the head? To infibulate its cock, then, would just be a simple matter of attaching these two much smaller rings with a third, no larger than would be needed to make the attachment. That way i would have greater flexibility in controlling the dog's dick, sometimes rewarding it for good behavior by letting it get a hard-on, or punishing it by fastening the two rings together tightly so any engorgement would cause extreme pain?" "Sir, Slavemaster, Sir. Your suggestion, Slavemaster, is a creative variation on an old classic, and is one for the record books, that's for certain. Perhaps Slavemaster would consider using such infibulation more frequently. Indeed, even on properties where rings were not inserted, straight bars could be just to keep the piercing holes open, should the need arise for infibulation at a future time." "we're on a roll, dave. Make it so. In any case, i want a few more things attached to the dog's body. "Insert the largest possible nose ring that extends no further down than the upper lip. I want to be able to use that hole for piss and cum. Also, when the dog sits up to beg or balance dog biscuits on its nose, it will have a particularly hard time trying to catch the biscuit with its mouth after tossing it up in the air. he's got good-sized nipples, so insert heavy, gauge six tit rings, well into the aureoles. But we do have a little problem, dave. If you install a muting bar, gluing it in the conventional manner to his lower molars, he'll only be able to make animal noises, which is good, but then he won't be able to lick like a dog should. If you cut his vocal chords, he'll be like a Besenji, but he'll be able to use his tongue. What do you suppose we ought to do?" i asked this question for no other reason than to horrify little tony to so great a degree that he would find the power within himself to cease making human speech for the rest of his natural life--that is, if he valued having his vocal chords left intact! Of course, tony would not always be a dog. In private i fully intended to fuck him on a regular basis and i certainly wanted his tongue for more than servicing my cock. he seemed like an intelligent and alert dog who would pick up much valuable information, always at my side and so forth, and i fully intended to debrief him after our various and sundry forays into my daily rounds were completed. This apparent contradiction in my use of the slave merits a note of explanation for whose unused to the training of slaves; in particular, in the training of born slaves, where the goal is to induce over time a deeper and more profound commitment on the part of the slave to its slavery, a craving, an aching need to obey, thereby surrendering control of its mind and heart to its Owners and Masters. On the one hand, as the astute reader probably has already noted, i treat slaves in training as objects, as mere pieces of property. Of course, they are mere pieces of property, but it is one thing to call them property and it is another thing entirely for them to think of themselves as mere objects existing for the pleasure of their Masters. As they make this transition from being persons having free will and self-responsibility to being slaves, mere means to the pleasure of others, to be used and disposed according to the whims of others, their self-identity must undergo a radical change. Under the initial training, all choice is prohibited to properties--speaking, pissing, shitting, moving, sleeping, eating--each and every bodily function, anything and everything they once had the power to do for themselves is systematically taken from them, rendering them as completely helpless and alone in their helplessness as it is possible to make them. They are deprived of everything. Each time a slave obeys a command, immediately and without thinking, and performs the command well, it gets a tiny award. Perhaps an extra food ration, a little more sleep, a kind word, an ever-so-slight reduction in the heavy physical burden that is imposed upon it twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year. Each time a slave disappoints its trainer, it gets a severe punishment, from deprivation to isolation, to deeper forms of humiliation, and, of course, whippings, canings, and body modification. The forms of punishing and torture are simply endless. This training regimen serves to destroy the property's ego control and even the self-image it had developed up to the time of its enslavement. As each new condition is imposed, it struggles to accommodate the new routine, to figure out ways to justify to itself why it must obey. Just as a slave begins to "settle in" to its latest routine, having accepted for the most part the definition of what it is from its Master, the Master who needs to take the particular slave to the "next level" of its slavery introduces confusion in the slave mind by treating it in ways that are completely at odds with its previous treatment. With this dog, for example, just when it truly accepts the fact that it is a genuine, real dog, i will unexpectedly, and under certain circumstances, begin to treat it as though it were not a dog, perhaps as one of my valued assistants with whom i expect to have intelligent conversation, possibly discussing some matter of personnel or slave training. he will again begin to struggle to figure out what i really think he is--he will be looking to me for guidance for he, by that time, will have given up any will, or desire, to make these decisions himself. Getting him to that point is really what deeper slave training is all about. "Slavemaster, Sir. i suggest that the property be given a chance to earn its vocal chords, by not using them, except to make appropriate dog noises. it seems like an intelligent dog who can understand what its Owner wishes. Once the chords are cut, after all, they cannot be mended." "Perhaps you are correct, dave. we can always cut the chords later, if it disobeys. i've been thinking about what to call it. Once infibulated, of course, its cock is really useless; it's as though it really won't have a cock any more. No more fucking, no more cumming, at least not in the way a male dog fucks and cums. For all intents and purposes this property will be a dam, not a sire, a bitch, not a stud. its hole will be used regularly as a cunt. In fact, that's the only way it will ever get any sexual relief--by inducing someone to fuck its cunt and maybe give its prostate a little rub here and there. What shall it be called?" "Slavemaster, Sir. How about 'bitch'?" "But he's still got those big, low-hanging balls, dave. And i want to put a heavy ball-stretcher on them to take them even lower." "Slavemaster, Sir. What about 'dog'?" "That might just do the trick, dave. dog. i like it. and we can still call him 'bitch' as a nickname, can't we?" i said with a wink at dave. "Slavemaster, Sir. Sir, You can call it anything You damn-well please, Sir! You are Slavemaster, Sir!" "dave, use a one-pound ball-stretcher on the dog--I really enjoy seeing a pair of large, pendulous balls, especially big ones like its got, hanging down between its thighs. Now dave, i want the property fitted out additionally with some leather knee boots that will strap around the dog's ankles, keeping them tight against the upper thighs. After spending some time like that, i can assure you, dog will be grateful at having the temporary ability to move on all fours, as a special reward for pleasing me. "But i want something really special done to this property's perineum. Insert a series of cascading rings, largest toward the beginning of scrotum, smallest toward the cunt hole. Maybe about five or six rings should be about right. Will create an interesting visual effect as the dog moves about on all fours, don't you think? In addition, put the heaviest solid steel neck collar, rather than the spiked type, since i'll be using its body as furniture as well as creating a delightful pet to take along with me. As i stood there thinking profound thoughts about the fun i was going to have with my new dog, mace approached me, fell to his knees and awaited my acknowledgment of him. i motioned for him to rise. "Slavemaster, Sir. we are ready for Your judgment on Round One, Sir." Turning to dave, i said, "dave, do the circumcision now, and get prepared for the infibulation. i want to get everything done this morning." i walked over to the St. Andrews Cross where clay, the ex-Marine with a sassy mouth, lay stretched out in agony. i inspected five beautiful welts across the property's well-muscled upper back, laid out splendidly parallel to each other, and obviously put down with both authority and real panache. "These welts are beauties, boys. i have to give the the round to number four from the top. The skin is almost broken, but there is no blood. Excellent work, boys. Start Round Two." Back at the training chair, my new dog was getting all strapped down to keep him from moving his body as his foreskin was cut, high and tight. i noticed that dave left the catheter in the dog's dick. i made a mental note to ask dave if he thought the circumcision was easier with or without the catheter. "Master, do You wish me to use any anesthetic?" "If you can cut my dick without pain-killer, my little dog here's got to go through that same experience, don't you think?" dave pressed a button on the control panel and the leg supports forced the dog's hind quarters apart. Another button tilted the back of the restraint chair so the vet could get his head right up close and over the dog's dick. A retracting stainless steel platform extended out from between the hind quarters. Once fully extended and put into place, the dog's scrotum fit through a drop hole and a penis clamp fit tightly over the shaft just where it was attached to the dog's trunk. "So dave, are you going to mark the foreskin first and then cut, or just cut creatively?" "Slavemaster, Sir. Since dog is Master's first and will probably become His favorite, a little extra care might be in order, or should i bother?" "No, dave, you are correct. The dog's dick will be visible whenever he is doing tricks, since it will be folded backward and the underside of the head will be exposed. Use a sharp scalpel and care. One day this dog may get its dick back." i looked into the terrified eyes of my dog and patted its head. "Calm down, dog. i'm going to take out the penis gag so you can breathe a little easier while we're modifying your body. i expect a dog to make yowls and yips of pain, but dogs do not talk or form words. Do you understand?" The dog nodded its assent. "If any words are spoken then i will insert a spiked muting bar over your tongue." i loosened the fastener behind the dog's neck to remove the gag and the gag game out without a hitch. The dog moved its lower jaw up and down to stretch out the facial and jaw muscles. "dog, i think it would be best if you bit into this piece of leather. That will help with the pain." Suddenly, dog's muscled belly and chest went taut, all the muscles standing out in considerable relief as dave cut the dog's foreskin. "Only a little more, now dog, and dave here will be all done." A second bolt of pain shot through the dog's body, as dave's scalpel cut away the other side. "Now, dog, only one last little cut, right under the cock head. dave, leave a nice sensitive bit of skin under the glans. we don't want to desensitize its dick--we just want to expose it to public view. "Yes, Slavemaster. i think we've just about got the dick cut perfect." "dog, there will be one last big shot of pain. dave, stick the dick in the salt powder to cauterize the wound." i knew that last maneuver would cause more agony than the three previous cuts put together, so I wasn't surprised when the dog simply fell unconscious. i had to give it to him, though, he didn't make any human noises, just low guttural moans, the sort an animal makes when it suffers serious disabling pain. "dave, revive the dog with some smelling salts. i want it fully awake and sensitive to the next stage of body modification." "Yes, Slavemaster, Sir." The dog revived and i noticed some tears running down its cheek. "dog, i know that was some pretty tough pain, but you handled it well. i am highly pleased that you made no human sounds at all. The next thing we're going to do is puncture a couple of holes through your dick--one just below the helmet made by your cockhead and a second hole through the upper part of your shaft, where it attaches to your pelvis. we're then going to insert a couple of rings made of surgical steel through each hole and then fasten the two rings together, causing your dick to bend back on itself, making an erection impossible." "Slavemaster, if the dog's dick were say nine or ten inches, even eight inches flaccid, three rings would bend the cock back sufficiently, but we're going to have a problem since the dog's dick is only four to five inches flaccid and only six inches erect. Certainly those are perfectly acceptable and normal ranges for an adult man, but on this dog i think we're going to have to go with a single ring through both holes--otherwise the dick just won't be bent tight enough." "Umm, i see what you mean, dave. Well, we'll just have to go back to the Roman original and use a single tight ring--just enough space so cleaning is easily accomplished but tight enough so not even a semi-erection is possible without a lot of pain. you see, dave, one of things i want to accomplish here is to get the dog thinking that its only sexual organ is its cunt, not its dick. it will certainly ejaculate frequently enough while flaccid when its cunt gets fucked and the prostate is stimulated, see?" "Yes, Slavemaster." dave used a hollow tube surgically sharpened at one end like a hypodermic syringe--only this tube was quite a bit larger. As dave pierced the dog's cockhead the tube would cut a column of cockmeat as it passed through the dick, leaving a nice canal through which the gauge four infibulating ring could pass. the dog started to moan, groan and yelp in deep anguish as dave tapped the syringe-like tube though its dick, but the process didn't take long at all. i kept my hand on the dog's scalp and offered some comfort to it as it went through this ordeal, constantly reassuring it that it would survive and be OK at the end. Each "breather" from the exquisite pain gave dog the opportunity to look piercingly and imploringly into my eyes, which were close, and i permitted the dog to drink in the strong physical and spiritual passion i was feeling. i knew i was going to love this dog with a deep love that would know no bounds. dave pierced the cockshaft up near the dog's pelvis and another bolt of pain shot through the dog's muscled torso, muscular legs and arms. The veins in its neck stood out like a fucking relief map. my dick was so hard, and i could feel the cocksnot dripping out the end, landing on my right thigh. my imagination and fantasies were in full overdrive mode and seemed to cascade one upon the other in a riot of amorous and lusting passions. i was truly wise to let dave do this surgery as i was in no condition mentally to do much but let my heart beat strongly, my blood pounding, as i placed my left hand on dog's breast, also pounding, and i brought my cheek close to its cheek and just held its body tightly in my arms. i was thinking how there was nothing like physical pain to bond a Master to His property. To feel empathetically the pain this dog was suffering just opened me up like a clamshell--there is a brutal honesty, a blazoning truth that connects the Master to his slave when the whip meets its target, when the slave offers itself up to its Master's sadistic pleasure. This cannot be faked. It is real. It is as real as reality gets. True, in dog's case, there was the small matter of my coercing it. But my sense was that dog could be turned, that a time would come--soon--where it would want and crave my use and abuse, just so long as it felt it could trust me to protect it as my property. it would want to give up all effort to think anything but what i wished it to think, and could not even conceive of disobedience, as its consciousness gradually became a part of my own consciousness and through me united with Master Lord. Now that dog's dick had been properly pierced, dave took a second tube, something like a funnel, to guide the heavy gauge-4 infibulation ring first through the upper cutting, near dog's pelvis, and then through the lower cutting, just below the dickhead. These maneuvers seemed to cause dog even more pain than the original piercing and there was quite a lot of blood everywhere. Once the ring went through both holes, i moved the dickhead around the ring to expose enough of the ring for dave to use his clamp to tighten it, making a permanent seal with the special glue we use for the purpose, forming a bond stronger than the steel itself, so that the entire ring now appeared to be a single, solid piece of workmanship. i imagined that dog, when later inspecting what i had done to its cock would get the idea that the new modification to its body would be permanent, and that it would never use its dick again. The mental anguish this would cause dog to feel would, i sensed, help dog to accept its new status as nothing more than a chattel--a piece of property its owner could use however he pleased. dave then used a slightly smaller cutting tube for the dog's tits, punching a hole first through the right, and then the left aureoles, and worked the gauge-6 tit rings--just like my own-- through the piercings. "the dog's got really nice large tits, doesn't it?" "Yes, indeed it does, Slavemaster. And that reminds me, Sir. You had asked about some new removable tit rings to replace the ones Master Lord removed so He could get your nips through those great looking tit cinches you're wearing. Sir, the tit cinches just look incredibly hot on you." "Master doesn't want me to go thicker than gauge 6. What have you got that would be heavier?" "The old rings were about an inch in diameter, Sir. Could we use inch-and-a-half captive bead rings with an especially large and heavy bead to add to the weight?" "That sounds about right, dave. Well, we've only got to give this dog a nice snout ring, a branding, and a ball stretcher and we'll be done. After its tits have healed, i'll want the same sort of tit cinches on it that Master's used on me, right?" "Sir, Yes Sir. i'll see that that gets done." By this time, Round 4 was over and i could see mace on his way over to me for my judgment and determination of the winner. he entered my consciousness on his knees, eyes downcast midway between us, forearms clasped behind his back and he remained motionless, until such time as i should choose to acknowledge him. What a fine slave mace was! It is true, he was my favorite amongst all my overseers--a muscled, milk chocolate bar, just as sweet to taste and as delightful in bed as he was stunningly beautiful to look at, and he must have known my eyes worshipped his hunky ass, for i always detected in his manner and facial expression the slight hint of emotional vulnerability. "mace, i notice your fuckpole is as big and hard as the rest of you. Are you just glad to see me, or has bustin' that Marine's balls been getting you wired?" "Slavemaster, Sir. How would you have this worthless-piece-of-shit who's only got mush for brains answer such a question?" "Honestly, of course, you dumb fuck." "Slavemaster, Sir. This dumb fuck worships the ground You walk on, Slavemaster Sir! This black dick belongs to You Sir, and You like hard dicks, Sir. Beg your pardon, Sir, this dumb fuck's dick also gets real hard working that Marine, Sir!" "Get your fucking mouth over here, mace, and suck my cock. i'm starting to drool." i loved the way mace would look up to my face to catch my expressions of delight and pleasure as his cunt mouth worked my tackle. You might think that because my balls were prosthetic that i didn't feel his wet mouth taking them in, first one and then the other, but that's not at all true. Just think about it for a minute. All the exquisite sensations a stud gets on his balls from a wet mouth comes from the scrotum, not the balls themselves. In fact, about the only time a stud feels his balls is when they get knocked around, or tightly squeezed. i got all the sensation i ever did with my real balls, only i never experienced the pain i would occasionally feel if Master Lord or one of His guests got a little rough with them. i placed my big hands on mace's fine bald head and then moved my left fingertips round and down to the base of his perfectly shaped skull--a fucking erogenous zone all by itself if you ask me--and gently braced his head as i pumped my big dick down his suctioning throat. Damn, that niggah knew how to suck a big cock and i was about to blow when i pulled out, grabbed my dick and started to beat his cheeks and lips with full-blooded cockmeat. he groaned and closed his eyes--i knew he was about to blow himself without even touching his dick and we both wanted just the tease, and to save ourselves for later. "bitch, crawl over here and let's check out your handiwork on this pathetic excuse for a brain-dead ex-Marine." All my overseers were groveling on their knees by now, their dicks angry and drooling. Did i know how to get these fuckheads wired up or what? Damn i enjoyed fucking with their dumb-asses and getting them hot and bothered and little prospect of getting their rocks off. Hot. The Marine's shoulders, back, rump, and thighs were a sight to behold. Large angry red welts were raised all over its hunky musculature and my dick was just about to pop its load of clear fuck juice. "i'm sorry you fucking meatheads, but i'm going to exercise my rights here for first fuck. Get his sorry ass down from that cross and bind him to the fuck table. Now. If you hurry i might give you sloppy seconds." i was in a rutting mood, that ain't no lie. And boy i wanted to bust this jarhead's cherry in the worst way possible. i really hadn't intended things to work out like this--i really was going to give the winner first fuck, but after doing all those fun things to my little dog, and then seeing these beautiful red welts on this hunky Marine's backside just about sent me over the edge. i was still getting off on the stripes Master Lord had put on my chest, belly, thighs and backside the previous night, and i noticed something else, and this is what really tipped me over the edge. The fucking Marine had blown his balls as my guys were beating his sorry ass! This guy was a natural for the whip! See, that's why i just love Marines. Most of 'em just crave pain, agony, and misery. Just live for that shit--tests their manhood, it does, makes 'em feel more ballsy because they can take the fucking punishment; in fact, they're generally proud as shit the more pain they can take. You just gotta love these guys! i'm beginning to think here that i'm just a switch. i don't know how else to account for the fact that i'm a natural-born sadist on the one hand, but i also love to be used by a Master, i love being treated just like a piece of property. i don't think i am really that much of a masochist, though. i can't say that i really get off on receiving pain. i get off on it when i see and feel that Master is getting his rocks off on giving me pain, but if it was just some guy whipping me, i wouldn't be getting off on it at all. That's why i know i am a natural born slave. i exist to serve others and to give pleasure to others. But i can easily take the Master role myself. Life is some funny shit, ain't it? my boys had the Marine trussed up like a roasting turkey with his big round bubble butt stuck up in the air and his pink fuck hole winking at my thick rod, drooling a pool of cocksnot on the floor below. God almighty his body, roasted alive with twenty-five lashes from the bullwhip, starting at his neck all the way down to his meaty muscular thighs, just begged for my attention. "Marine, you want me to fuck your cunt?" The Marine mumbled something i couldn't hear. "Speak louder you dumb fuck. You want your cunt fucked?" "Sir, please fuck my cunt, Sir!" "What? i can't hear you. you some kinda sissy boy? Spit the words out, you worthless piece of shit! DO YOU WANT YOUR CUNT FUCKED?" "SIR, MASTER SIR! PLEASE FUCK MY WORTHLESS CUNT, SIR!" Turning to my boys, i said, "Now how can anyone turn down an invitation like that, eh boys?" "Slavemaster, Sir. That worthless shithead muthafucker wants his worthless asscunt fucked, i say we fuck it." "All in good time, fellas. First off, one of you fetch me some hydrogen peroxide to rub into these welts. Give this dipwad a little extra excitement while i'm fucking that mush out of his head. Yeah, that's good, doug. Rub it in. Yeah." The Marine obviously wasn't feeling so good as the liquid antiseptic foamed on his back, mixing with the sweat and the blood that had begun to dry. i knew his skin was starting on fire about now and that's when i took a little of my own cocksnot off my drooling dick and lubed his cunt up a little. This boy was tight as hell, but i just kept pushing and finally got my big knob through his sphincter. Damn! There's just nothing as nice as having your big raging dick surrounded by a tight hungry asshole. "O yeah, Boss, fuck that tight-assed hole. Yeah, Master, pump 'im real good. Master, Sir, can we lick your body while you're fuckin'im, Sir?" "Be my guest, guys. Make me feel real good, hear?" To my surprise, dave, my surgical assistant, having finished branding and piercing my little dog and tethering his snout ring to the floor with a short chain, came up behind me and immediately started giving me one fantastic rim job, jabbing his talented tongue right up my chute. The other four wet mouths were sucking my balls, licking my dick as i pulled out between thrusts into the Marine's tight stud cunt, and worshipping my feet. mace stood behind me, dave on his knees between his legs, and nuzzled the back and sides of my neck and ears while his hot fingers twisted and pulled on my big distended tits. i had no choice but to arch my neck backward in response to mace's incredible kisses, while one of his hands continued with the tit work and the other caressed my big muscular neck. i am very sensitive on my neck and ole mace knew every spot and exactly how to make my body writhe in response to his expert ministrations. my tits aren't particularly sensitive--i mean somebody playing with them alone isn't going to make me blow, but with my fuckpole planted deeply in the Marine's asshole, dave working my own hole and mace's kisses and caresses, the tit twisting just blew my sex juice deep into the Marines guts and i found my body fixed there in a sort of spasm of pleasurable delight. i guess i collapsed backwards as mace caught the fall and passionately thrust his pierced tongue deeply into my throat. The feeling of ecstatic ejaculation was so great my legs just gave way and my boys held me up to finish pumping my big load up the Marine's honey cunt. i regained my composure after a few moments as mace continued to steady my body and the talented doug took a breather from sucking my toes to putting his mouth to expert use licking my dick and balls of my cum and the Marine's ass juices. This must have been a fucking hot scene, because i noticed out of the corner of my eye that my little dog was writhing in agony from the infibulation ring that was preventing his willing dick from going steel hard. dog could see the whole scene and that was good. dave hadn't yet put on the blinders or the ear plugs. i wanted dog to see the humiliation of his father, of his father's begging to have my big dick up his tight cunt. i wanted dog to get a sense of what he would shortly come to experience personally. End of Part 8 TO BE CONTINUED . . . 2004 Syke Master

THE NEW BIRTH - Part 4 by Psychmstr [email protected] Read all of Psychmstr's stories at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/The_Leather_Room/ PREPARATIONS This slave awoke first, of course, visiting the bath area to piss, shit, and have itself showered and douched to be fresh for Master and Mistress when they arose. Master issued protocols for many situations since He was so well organized. One rule, of course, was always to awake first in the morning, and leave Master's bed, if doing so did not disturb Master; if it did, then to leave at the earliest possible opportunity once Master had finished using its body. This situation might arise, for example, if Master's dick was as yet impaled in its ass from a previous fuck. Master's dick might even be comfortably resting between its ass cheeks, or His hand might be resting on its cock, tit, or some other part of its body. Usually Master wished me to clean His cock of cum and ass juices after a good ass fucking and then leave His shaft inside my throat or mouth. So long as i was able to breathe, i was to leave His cock exactly as He left it. During the night, Master may periodically touch my head and push down, or begin to thrust slightly, indicating He wanted renewed pleasure on His dick, or more typically to take His piss. Once Master was no longer touching me, i was then to take care of myself in the morning. i always left all doors open, since i did not require privacy--i was just property after all, not a person. In using the toilet, i never stood in front of the bowl to urinate, but lifted the lid and the seat and squatted with my haunches over the rim, my back to the tank. As my dick was exceptionally thick and long and cinched up with my cock and ball ring, i would have to press sharply on my cock to properly direct the stream of piss into the bowl, and frankly, i couldn't have gotten my cock past the rim of bowel had i not bent my knees at about a 45 degrees to the floor. If i had to defecate, i was allowed to sit on the rim of the bowl, but only for the time it took to eliminate any turds. Usually i would grab my cock and ball sack to lift them out of the way so they wouldn't rest on the rim of the toilet while shitting. Also, i didn't want any piss to squirt to the floor accidently, as my dick would hang over the rim otherwise. After elimination, i stepped into the large open shower area, and one of the bath slaves took Master's cleaning wand, checked for proper temperature, and inserted the metal tip three or four inches up my hole, as i leaned all the way over, and let the wand fill up my butt cavity for a count of ten seconds. The bath slave would then remove the tip, i would tighten my sphincter muscle, step over to the toilet bowl, squat down and let loose. This procedure was always followed not less than four times, increasing each time the amount of water and its temperature that went into the cavity. i knew i had enough water in my gut on the fourth cleansing when i stood up, clenched my ass hole, and found that the muscled ridges of my stomach were all stretched out painfully hard in a huge bloat. Each expulsion of water, of course, was following by flushing the toilet, so that i could tell whether my colon was completely clean. The bath slaves would then join me in the shower area, soap me up, shave my head and beard--as body shaving was no longer necessary for me after electrolysis--turn off the water, and then "plane" the water off my body to avoid using towels, which were to be used only by non-slaves. Lest anyone reading this account suspect i did anything on my own initiative, that would be an appearance, not a reality. Master had prepared protocols for all ordinary situations, including protocols for a wide range of variations on these basic templates of behavior He wished His slaves to follow. There was rather an extensive list to be followed by His "right hand" as He called me, far more than for other slaves, because i served a far more complicated role in Master's life. Outside of Master's presence, i did do all manner of things that could be said to be taking the initiative, or making decisions "on my own," but the fact is i did no more than obey the Prime Directive. While Master structured my life to optimize His Own pleasure and convenience, thereby minimizing His need to micro-manage, He took special pleasure in clothing and decorating slaves who frequently entered His presence and in establishing general protocols for all other slaves who serviced Him. In my case, Master had directed, not only tit rings, and a navel barbell, but a wide cinch ring. The iron rule was that anything Master put on a slave was "locked" there until Master took it off, or had it taken off. Most slaves who worked in agriculture or as pony slaves, or in any activity where loose-hanging balls might create problems for the slave and thus inefficiencies in their production were normally cinched to keep their balls out of the way and supported, as a manner of speaking. Pony slaves for example, especially those with low-hangers, had a tendency to have their balls bruised by the regular action of their thighs. Master also really liked the look of pony slaves with cinch rings and Prince Alberts. Consequently, ponies were always cinched to create the uniform "look" Master insisted upon. Such cinch rings were permanently wielded onto the pony's cock and balls. There was no problem with hair growth as all ponies were also permanently depilatated, except for their faces, which were roughly shaved and their head hair, which was groomed with a regulation number one cut--similar to that of Marine grunts. i was, of course, also depilatated in the same manner, but because of my special status as His right hand, Master wished to use my body from time to time without the cinch ring, both to enable my use of clothing in certain situations where my identity as His right hand was to be protected, and also to keep those areas of my body spotlessly clean and free of any stale odor. It was also important to Master that the full length of my cock be available for insertion, or to have the whole package, cock and low-hangers, fully available for play or display. Consequently, Master had given me a uniquely designed cinch ring--one that could be taken off and on easily, but which looked as if it were a permanent feature wielded onto my anatomy! The cinch ring was to be removed, under protocol, only for the brief time washing and drying required. Doing anything else was absolutely forbidden, until the cinch ring was "locked" back on. i might then continue with the next series of activities Master had planned for me to do. i then entered the shower area and at once bath slaves appeared to begin their duties. Before stepping into the shower for cleaning, i said to one of them, "Do you know how to loosen the cinch ring?" "sir, no sir, thank you sir, your brother slave did not know cinch rings could be loosened. Beg your pardon, sir." A model answer from a most excellent brother slave, i thought. "You must encircle the ring with your whole hand, like this, depress the circumference in the middle along this seam and then feel the ring catch open. Do the same at the two ends. All along the seam now with the length of your thumb and the meaty part of your palm, and grasping the other side of the seam with the tips of your fingers, give the ring a quick snapping pressure, like this . . . SNAP . . . and it pops open just enough so i can maneuver my cock out first, like this, and then each ball, one at a time. There is no hinge, as you can see." "Now, you try it. First, let me show you how to install the cinch in the first place. It is easy to do since my balls hang so low. It's just a question of not catching the flesh of my cock and sac along the seam. Notice that the seam has an overlap and an underlap. "When closed the seam appears to be positioned differently on the inside than it is on the outside. That's to help prevent catching any skin and it also makes for a much more elegant design, since one would hardly even notice the seam and thus conclude the cinch was just like the sort Master uses on pony slaves and His draft teams." After several attempts both slaves managed to do the deed. Then they took the ring off, carefully washed my cock and balls, and, of course, the rest of my body. One may well wonder why i didn't just wash itself? Master's policy required slaves to wash and shave each other; and, of course,they were not permitted to masturbate or otherwise receive sexual release without the permission of Master. There there several reasons for this. Master believed close bodily contact needed to be frequent for slaves to encourage bonding with their fellows. But different rules applied to different categories of slaves. Field and household slaves were generally encouraged to bond sexually with rotating partners on a regular basis, assigned most often by their Overseers. Overseers themselves were encouraged to fuck all slaves under their charge without discrimination, again on a rotating basis, so that each slave would feel equally favored. Pony slaves, on the other hand, were only permitted to fuck each other, if they paired; and teams of draft slaves were encouraged to fuck each other as often as possible to become extremely familiar with each other's bodies. Master, however, in consultation with the various overseers, would choose from among the field slaves, household slaves, pony slaves and draft slaves certain individuals to participate in His breeding program. Slaves working as breeders, did not, as the name implied, actually fuck women, unless a particular client really wanted to have the full experience; on the contrary, women purchasing semen from these slaves generally did so in the most "arm's length" sort of transaction. Participating slaves would be completely cleaned and groomed in the most expert and careful manner. They would then live for no more than 3 months or so in individual cells in the breeding stables. These cells would have a number of video cameras located in strategic places throughout to offer exciting live video feeds from every imaginable angle of the particular slave. These feeds would go over the internet and potential customers could observe up to three potential slaves simultaneously and choose separate camera angles to obtain the best view of these semen producers. Anyone willing to pay a subscription fee to the video service could obtain access and even "observe" in real time customer selection of a given slave and His "milking", the live semen to be flash frozen for shipment anywhere in the world. Those who actually wished to purchase semen would obtain "premium" access to the site and, if a purchase was made, would have the cost of the subscription reimbursed. But i digress. The one group of slaves who were absolutely forbidden to fuck or suck each other were, for want of a better term, the comfort slaves. These slaves were reserved for use by Master, Mistress, their household guests, friends, and staff members who were free men. Comfort slaves were to keep themselves in reserve to be fully charged sexually for use on a moment's notice. All comfort slaves had the barbell piercing through their navels. When comfort slaves grew boring to those who used them, new ones were brought in and old ones sent to the fields or to do other hard physical labor. The barbells were replaced with rings. But not all comfort slaves could be used by all. For example, staff members were welcome to have any number of comfort slaves for an evening's pleasure, but certain slaves might be reserved for guests, or special occasions. i, too, am a comfort slave, to be used by Master, and now more particularly by Mistress, but as Master's chief overseer, there was no slave who had use of me; on the contrary, i could have use of whatever slave i wished when i wasn't used as a comfort slave by Master or Mistress. But there were really only three situations where i regularly fucked slaves: to show favor to my lieutenant overseers, to retrain slaves who were beginning to backslide on their duties as slaves, either in performance or in attitude, and to break a formerly free man, to bring his spirit into submission to mine and through me, to Master himself. With these exceptions, i generally reserved my sexual energy for use by Master, and through Him, Mistress, for these people were, for all intents and purposes, my gods on earth, to whom i pledged complete submission in all things. i thought of their use of my body as their great gift to me; i felt honored, and deeply appreciated their willingness to see something of value in me, that they'd be willing to use me in this way. "Jackson!" Master had awoken with a piss hard-on, obviously, and stood by His bed and gave a long, stretch to His well-defined arm, chest and belly muscles. "Come let me give you a morning drink!" i had been Standing Present, the default slave position, (feet shoulder-width apart, hands behind back clasping opposite wrist, chest out, head down at middle distance), when i immediately went over to Master and assumed the Full Present postion at His feet and opened my mouth to gently take hold of Master's large dick. i let it rest on my tongue without stimulating it and Master relaxed His shoulders by resting His hands on my head and shoulders so He could begin to piss. His cock was still semi-erect when He pulled my mouth fully down on Him to the root of His balls, letting His urine fly down my gullet. i could feel the exciting throb of the liquid rush through His urethra and tunnel down my throat. i hardly had to swallow. His fullness seemed to find a direct route right out His dick into my stomach. i always enjoyed drinking Master's piss, but i especially enjoyed it when He used me in public as His personal urinal. While free men who didn't own slaves took such a sight as a form of degradation to the slave, i didn't feel that way at all. i wanted Master to use me, and if others thought i was abasing myself, that was even better. The act showed i belonged completely to Master and that what i might have wished or desired as a free man was utterly irrelevant. What was important was what Master wanted, and i gloried when He used my body to make this point to all and sundry--i would have gone steel hard even if i were not wearing my cinch ring. This attitude didn't hurt when it came to retraining slaves either. Master finished His long morning piss, milked the last few drops out, wiped His piss slit back and forth on my lips and sat on the side of the bed, grabbed my arms and placed them around His waist, cocked His head slightly toward me with a big smile and gave me a deep, wet kiss. When Master kissed me i often as not betrayed a few tears of light-hearted ecstasy i was so happy and thrilled. i could have sucked and kissed His tongue and lips all day and all night long and each day thereafter devoted the entire 24 hours lavishing my kisses and licks on each of His beautiful body parts. i could go on, i thought, for at least a month! Alas, Master had business to attend to, as did i. "Master, do you wish your slave to make a suggestion?" "Yes, of course, Jackson." "When you spoke to me before you cut my balls, Master, you described how Mistress desired that my cock drooled pre-cum as often and as much as possible when in Her presence, and especially when i appeared in public with Her. "With your permission, Master, my cock would drool more constantly and produce greater quantities if i inserted a large butt-plug up my hole to put more or less constant pressure on the prostate. "Constant stimulation of the prostate should produce so much pre-cum moistening the head of my dick, that strands would tend to flow along the PA and make a very pleasing and even arresting presentation for Mistress and Her friends. Few people will be able to take their eyes off this huge tackle, forced out in front of my cobble stoned eight-pack at right angles, weeping constantly!" "That's an excellent suggestion, Jackson. And it just goes to show how incredibly close our thinking is!" Master gave me a sly wink when He said this. "Master?" "Go into the wardrobe, on the floor, to the right, and retrieve the black shoe box you find there. Be careful. It's heavier than a pair of shoes." i brought the box Master requested, placed it at His feet, and made my low obeisance, then kissed His feet lightly, and awaited His pleasure. "Up on your knees, slave, and open the box." Master said in triumphal flourish, with a huge grin on His handsome face. i slipped the lid off, discarded the black packing material, and removed a heavy, somewhat cool, object enclosed in a thick black velvet cinch bag. i carefully opened the bag and slipped it off as a beautifully polished and banded black object appeared in my hands, perhaps 5 or 6 pounds in weight, shaped with a rounded broad heavy base that tapered quickly to a rounded point. "Master, it looks like a heavy stone butt-plug, only it has no neck for the sphincter to clamp." "Right you are, my muscular fuck-toy. This is a butt-plug that will, because of its weight and size, put great downward pressure on your sphincter muscle. It is inserted narrow tip first, of course, and then it goes all the way up your butt and then just rests on your hole, tending to stretch your hole open, forcing itself out. Keeping a tight butt-hole keeps it in and also puts constant pressure on your prostate. You will have a very strong sphincter muscle in a short while, that is, if you succeed in keeping that thing up your ass and not letting it slide out. You should also get that constant creaming of your dick that Mistress so desires. "Master, so i get it out by . . . ," i began. ". . . squatting down and pretending you're taking a big shit. It should slide right out. However, you do bring up a good point. I can't have a heavy piece of black onyx like that rolling around in your guts if you are wearing it and you are doing gymnastics exercises, or if you suddenly had to go into fight mode to protect Mistress. Also, I think you need some practice with it to see how it works. "My hunch is you'll need to have a hole drilled into the base for a stainless steel insert that would act to clamp the stone once inside your rectum directly on top of your sphincter. Also, see if it is necessary to angle the stone so that by tilting it you are able to keep constant pressure on your prostate. "The result will be the desired presentation as well as the need for you to constantly exercise your sphincter muscle. I want your hole to be big enough to drive a truck through, so to speak, but I want you to have the ability to tighten down on a cock as if you were an anal virgin. Actually, you already have that ability. What I mean is I want you to retain it during this period you will be with Mistress, as your ass will not be used as often by me." "Master, i will have the machine shop do as you wish. Shall i begin to wear it now?" "Yes, insert it now. And as I see the breakfast slaves are approaching with the Mistress's and my meals, and your slave chow, let's sit at the tables. I want you kneeling with your feet cradling your ass cheeks and your hands at rest behind your head, knees spread wide with nice tension along your belly and chest. That will lower the level of your face for my convenience and also, I just love looking at your beautifully muscled biceps, nicely pumped when your hands are in that position. Yes. Let's call that the Resting Display position. How does the new butt-plug feel?" "Master, it feels heavy in my gut and it is putting downward pressure on my sphincter as you said it would. i won't be able to tell whether it's stimulating my prostate, however, until i walk." "Come Serena, let's begin breakfast. I've got a busy day ahead of me!" "I'm coming, Steve. Go ahead and start without me. I'll be right in." The breakfast slaves, completely nude of course, as were all slaves, served Master a simple meal of scrambled eggs, whole wheat toast with currant preserves, fresh bacon bits, and a large orange juice. The French press thermal coffee pot awaited His pleasure at the end of the meal. My slave chow was a precisely measured amount provided in a stainless steel "dog" bowl from which Master drew small handfuls and presented them in front of my mouth for me to nuzzle. i loved being hand-fed by Master like this and after each handful i kissed Master's fingers and if He kept His fingers there i would, of course, begin to gently suck and nibble on them. Many times He would caress my tongue and teeth, or rub the back of His fingers tenderly across my lips. Master never missed an opportunity to express His affection for me and give me the chance to show my gratitude and joy. My stomach was growling since it was ready for its morning supply of nutrients. On the maintenance diet, slaves were always fed an amount of slave chow twice per day measured precisely to keep their body weight within less than a one pound variation from week to week and month to month. i was fed more as Master and i had decided so long as i could continue to gain muscle mass and avoid body fat, i should stay on the bulking-up diet. So i ate three times per day. After completing the grueling workout sessions in the morning i was generally famished by midday, and that would be the time the muscles would be looking to restore depleted energy, so i ate at noon, and then again very lightly at six in the evening, when Master generally had supper. "Slave?" "Ma'am, Yes Ma'am?" "I won't need your services until after you've completed your morning training today. Be ready to accompany me for a marketing promo this afternoon at 3 PM. Make sure to be be completely groomed since you will be the center of attention. Take along a classy business suit, the whole works, since I want no one to suspect that you are a slave. You shall look and act as if you are my business assistant, which, of course, you will in fact be. Take a long a couple of slaves to assist us. They can ride in the boot of the car, if need be. "The National Businessmen's Association (NBA) is in town, so to speak, and trophy spouses, both women and men, but mostly women, will hold a special, closed-door-by-invitation-only session to consider contracting with us for the future delivery of perhaps a dozen castrated super slaves such as yourself to serve as personal comfort slaves. "Your job, aside from making your body available to these folks for their inspection--at the right dramatic moment--will be to assess what sort of slaves would best suit them. Some will no doubt have definite notions about what they like in a sex slave, but i want you to pick up any special or unique or unspoken hints or suggestions. Read their body language. We'll have a slide show offering beautiful nude pictures of the different body types available in older males, different heights, different body builds, presence of facial hair, etc. We want to exceed their expectations in every possible way. "Indeed, we want to know what they want before they themselves are fully aware of it, since for most this will be the first time they have actually owned a comfort slave, especially one capable, as ours will be, to do a lot more than present a dick to ride or a hole to fill. You will, of course, be the lead trainer." "Mistress, i understand. Shall i remain in the retraining room for your messenger?" "Yes, that would be best." "Mistress, thank you. i will do as you wish." In the limo on the way to the NBA meeting, Mistress had me in the Resting Display position--ass cheeks resting on soles of feet, hands behind my head, chest out and abs taut, to show the muscular ridges and the "cobblestone" eightpack to best advantage. Knees were wide apart to give full visual and physical access to my cock and balls and even to my hole. "Put the alligator tit clamps on your nips Jack." "Ma'am, Yes, Thank You Ma'am." And i put these unusual clamps on each tit. The clamp looked like a stainless steel ball bearing about the diameter of my thumb nail. It had a hole in it on one side and on the other little metal wings that thumb and forefinger could press together to release the clamp inside the hole. i erected my nipples and stuck the clamps on. The pain was pretty intense, but i enjoyed it nevertheless. My dick was already leaking copious quantities of pre-cum with the heavy onyx butt-plug having been inserted. i uttered a low moan as i settled back to experience the pain/pleasure of the clamps and the heaviness of the big rock resting up my ass, trying to force its way through my clenched sphincter muscle. Mistress lifted Her legs onto the leather seat and pressed the intercom button to speak to the chauffeur. "Let me know fifteen minutes before we arrive, Faisal. Darken all the windows now and no other interruptions." "Yes Ms. Lord, immediately." The intercom went dead and the cabin windows all converted into darkened one-way mirrors. We could see out, but no one could see in. "Jack, extend your left arm to make an arm rest for me as I lean back." "Ma'am, Yes Ma'am." i turned around on the floor and leaned back on my haunches with my muscular arm extended out for Mistress. i kept the other behind my head. Mistress also leaned back and put Her arm along the length of mine, up close, and fondled my ear lobe with Her long finger nails. With the fingers of other other hand She reached over and begin to caress my chest and belly, finally coming to rest just below the barbell piercing in my navel. "You know, slave Jackson, I think I like you." "Ma'am, Yes Ma'am. i am completely yours to command." "Then turn and look at me, Jackson." i did as She asked and Her left hand lightly travelled up my belly and chest to caress my biceps, and beckoned me to approach Her lips and offer Her a hot wet kiss. Her tender lips excited me and stirred the heat between my legs. i so wanted to fuck Her brains out, but i kept control, and let Her guide me every step of the way. i knew Mistress would give me my head about Her, but it would be on Her terms, not mine. i knew that even if She allowed me to fuck Her, i could not come, as i had to be fully charged for the exhibition. i kept thinking that these tit clamps had to go, since i was just not going to be able to keep myself together that long with them on. My tits were very sensitive and they seemed to be directly connected to my dick in some way. After some minutes of rather passionate kissing and throat fucking with my tongue, Mistress broke off to recover, as did i. A few moments passed. "Ma'am, Do You wish Your slave to ask You a question?" "Of course, Jack." "Ma'am, my tits are sensitive and frankly i don't think i can stop myself from cumming spontaneously if they stay in place. Especially here with you, like this. Every part of my body is on fire for you, but i know you want my dick completely charged up for the exhibition, yes?" A momentary wave of displeasure seemed to flit across Mistress's face, then passed, then Her face fell into a thoughtful pose. "Jackson, Jackson, how much I need somebody in my life like you--NO--not someone like you, because there is no one like you, is there? I am just being a selfish 24 year brat! Steve is right. You are a slave, but something more! I am beginning to appreciate what your Master said to me, how you really are an extension of his body. I feel like I am almost talking to him sometimes when I speak to you. I had you put those damn clamps on just because it stirs my cunt to do it, but I wasn't thinking about you the way that I should. "This slavery business is rather hard for us women, you know, Jackson. To me, really, you are an incredibly beautiful, powerful, sexy and wise man; but because you are also a slave, somehow I am not supposed to think of you as a man. And then, sometimes, I feel like you are Steve!" "Mistress, if i may be so bold to speak frankly, it is because i am a man, undeniably so, that Master wishes You to display Your dominance over me, especially in public or before others, even others in the household. Also, Your slave feels more secure in his slavery if he is treated as the piece of property he really is. A piece of property is what i am, for your complete use and disposal, any way You see fit. "Master did purchase me fair and square. i made some errors in judgment regarding the trustworthiness of my business associates well over ten years ago. i couldn't pay my debts and so the court ordered that all my assets, including my own body and mind, were to be put in service to my creditors. That's the way the law works now. "Master purchased me and satisfied my creditors. i owe Him not merely the money He paid; i owe Him my life, so i willingly devote my whole mind and body to His welfare. "He didn't have to buy me, you know. i could have been purchased to do any sort of work that would hardly have taxed my mental or physical abilities in the least. Had no one purchased me at all, my body could have been sold to the organ banks, where i might have had a year or two of additional life, at least until someone needed my heart for a transplant! "Some opponents of slavery in this country try to argue that our modern institution is not fair, not equitable. But consider. Today we no longer have prisons or penitentiaries. "There was a time not so long ago that millions of men, and women, were simply warehoused in cells at great public expense, and nobody derived the least little benefit from all the wasted manpower--least of all the inmates, who frequently returned to freedom with criminal intent even more monstrous than when they entered prison, and frequently with greater skill at harming others. "Now, if a man commits a crime, he must pay a huge fine, and if he cannot pay the fine, he is auctioned off into slavery. His victims receive the benefit of his talent and labor many times greater in most cases than any original loss that was suffered. But now we have very little crime. Even working-class people have the sense now to take out slavery insurance so that if they run afoul of the law their insurance policies will pay off the fine and they will remain free men. "So you see--don't you?--that to serve Master fulfills my life's purpose. Just thinking about Master and His needs gets me hard sexually--that's how much pleasure serving Him gives to me. "i like to think, too, that Master needs me, wants me, or at least finds that i offer Him some important value in my service to Him in exchange for all that He has given to me by saving me from the organ banks, or a life lived pulling weeds in some field somewhere, or mining, or working in a stone quarry. "All of these jobs are real jobs and worthwhile, but the system requires great men such as Master who has the intelligence and the financial resources to recognize the values various slaves offer to put them to their highest use. "And you are the consort of Master. He wishes me to respect and serve you as i serve Him. You probably feel a little awkward accepting the values i offer to you because you receive a benefit you feel you have not earned. But Master has earned those values and it is His simple pleasure that i should offer them to you, as well. So i do. "Every time you use me, Mistress, you do great honor to me and to the wonderful gift your husband has given to me--my slavery! If later today someone were, God forbid, to try to harm you in any way, i would willingly put my body over yours to take the bullet or the sword, if matters came to that, which they wouldn't because i know how to fight and would take them out before they knew what hit them--that is, after i had collected you and put you in safety. "So dearest Mistress, accept my complete submission to your will in all things. i shall try in every way to anticipate even what you may be thinking, and if it is your will, to provide you with whatever you need before you yourself even become fully aware of what you need. That's the sort of complete devotion i am talking about. And it is the sort of devotion i think these people we will soon meet also want in their lives, whether they know it now, or not. "That, really, is the mission of the New Birth program. Older men, more experienced in the ways of life and the world, can understand what i've been speaking to you about, and if they become candidates for the program, will have to demonstrate an order of devotion and submission to their Masters that exceeds what Masters typically expect from their slaves. New Birth candidates readily grasp the fact they otherwise face euthanasia when they reach their 45th birthdays, since the values they may offer without the program are simply insufficient to merit continued support by Master owners. "With a radical attitude adjustment, with cutting off their balls and replacing them with prosthetic balls, with the steroid drug enhancement element, and with the extraordinary training of their physical bodies and through their bodies, their minds, the program hopes to produce, if not clones of me, then certainly examples of manhood that will leave the average master and mistress weak in the knees, and fast with the pen and personal purchase check." "Jackson, I love a slave who knows what he's worth. Undress me now and take me on a flight somewhere Your Master wants me to go. Take off the fucking clamps and don't come yourself. Let's save that for later tonight, OK?" Mistress didn't have to coax me into compliance, as with slightly shaking hands i helped remove Her clothing and carefully laid the articles out on the opposing seat so they would not get wrinkled, as we had to be due at the hotel within an hour or so. i have a large, well-muscled body, as i have said, and lying down on top of Mistress so my dick head could enter Her luscious cunt opening put Her head at the level of my chest. i supported my upper body by stretching out my arms overhead and grasping the armrest and seat edge and pressing downward, so all my chest, arm, and belly muscles went to really major pump. Mistress tried to nibble on my left big tit but found that the tit ring got in the way, so She buried Her face in my left pit and started licking it. i could smell my own fresh man-smell--it always turned me on big time--as i kissed Mistress's hair and head and when the position was just right probed Her sexy ear canal with my wet tongue, driving Her absolutely wild with lust. Her body was writhing underneath mine, bucking, and vibrating like She'd just been plugged by a live wire--a feat She could manage since i was supporting all of my weight on my arms and legs. i had no problem plunging my raging fuckpole right straight into Her tightness--the cunt lips put up only token resistance to the invading log as it made its headlong plunge into the darkness slick and smooth like honey from all the fluid i was pumping out of my dick. This was so fucking hot. i was visualizing myself as this enormous fuck tool that Mistress was directing by remote control. My body, my penis, and my spirit were all one, one entity. and i wanted nothing more than to invade the universe of Her fucking cunt, take it over, dominate it, and then have Her suck me up into Her for ever and for ever. i felt insane. i roared. i actually heard myself making these huge rutting noises. i sounded like a big fucking bull just getting his big fucking rocks off. Sweet Jesus, then i fucking came, just then, right into the bitch's tight-assed cunt! i so wanted to save myself for later, but this honey bitch got me really going strong. i didn't want to think what was going to happen now. Oh, sweet Jesus, what a blessd fuck! i lay off Mistress and flopped down on the big floor of the limo, just to recover my breath and consider how i was going to handle the situation. Mistress had ordered me not to cum and what did i fucking do but cum, not just a little jack-off, but one of the hottest orgasms i had ever experienced in my whole fucking life. And it was the best sex i had ever had with a woman! i found myself just a little conflicted, to say the least! "Oh, Jackson, that was the greatest fuck of my short sweet life. My God, I have never been fucked like that baby, ever, not even by Steve on our honeymoon! Ummm, that was so, soooh . . . good!" Mistress was gently masturbating Her clit, trying to extend Her pleasure, so i got up on my knees between Her legs, rested Her willing thighs on my shoulders and gave Her sweet cunt a big, wet, open-mouthed kiss, lapped up the drooling cum, and started to work my tongue stud into the engorged meat, tapping, sucking, licking, blowing, and then just running with this incredible oral sensation--i felt my tongue was at the control panel of Her electrified body and the least touch here or there could cause the most amazing moans from deep within Her; i felt the muscles in Her ass, back and belly tighten and then relax briefly, only to fall into another series of spasms and releases. i moved my big paws up to Her perfect tits and oh-so-gently brushed the backs of my fingers across the engorged nipples. How i wanted to lick, bite, and suck them as well, but i just couldn't get my mouth in two places at once, so i decided to mount my Mistress once again but instead of entering my dick into Her pussy, i let my moistened cock head massage Her hardened clit so my mouth and tongue and teeth might devour those tantalizing nipples. And they were connected, O yes!, to that hard little member of Hers that my still hardened dick was kissing so passionately! Mistress just didn't stop having orgasms. i swear, so long as some part of my body was touching hers, She was off in heaven getting fucked by God Almighty Himself! It was as if Master had taken immediate and direct control of my body, as if my big fucking dick were His big fucking dick, and my muscled body were His muscled body, as if Master's consciousness had completely taken over my soul, He and i sharing the same consciousness, and Mistress understood that! What a fucking turn on! i could do this all day and all night! "In some deep sense, my consciousness at that moment merged completely with Master's and there was no difference! Master had moved me to a whole deeper and more intense intimacy with Him and with His purpose for my life. Master in my body re-entered His Wife and His slave grew, once again, steel hard, and pumped again and again into Her tasty cunt. This time in fucking Her i felt a sense of almost religious awe as i witnessed, as though outside looking down, at the magisterial way Master now used my body to pleasure His Wife. i felt such a sense of ecstatic surrender, as if Master were creating a whole new world in this single act, that as i exploded once again into Mistress, i seemed to lose consciousness altogether. Master once again took me deeper into my slavery to Him. It is difficult to convey this ecstatic sense to those readers who are not true slaves, or do not have Masters Who know how to help Their slaves release the slave spirit within themselves, reaching more profound, deeper levels of connection. The experience is somewhat akin to the "high" a runner feels once he reaches a certain level of performance, where his spirit seems to become almost disembodied. The pains and sensations of making the physical effort to run fall away and just the pure unalloyed sensation of moving through the air takes over and possesses one. There is no time because your consciousness only exists in that particular moment . . . which is suspended . . . sustained somehow. And then the reality of a spent body trying to grab more air hits home and you have to stop. But afterward, and for the rest of your life, you remember that moment, you savor it, you acknowledge it, and then you put it back into that special place deep within where you keep memories like these. i felt sorry for ordinary people, for ordinary slaves. they could never know what i knew, could never feel what i felt, could never merge with another soul, as Master absorbed my consciousness into His, my body into His Body, my mind into His Mind. Perhaps, i thought, it really is a gift of the born slave. i had experienced what religious people throughout human history had always sought, union with the Divine! it must be, i thought, that just as Master worked through me and made me His complete slave, so God also worked though Master, and thus i really was united with God Himself! End of Part 4 TO BE CONTINUED . . . 2004 Syke Master

The Four Hour Drive (INC, MF, ANAL, WS, SCAT) WARNING: This story includes Incest relations as well as Water Sports and some minor Scat. A story about a man who finds out spending the weekend at his sister's house will be more interesting then any time before. The Four Hour Drive By StrikeDrone [email protected] Timothy Redford put a worn black duffle bag into the back of his aged four-door Honda and prepared for his four hour trip from Kansas City to St Louis.Although he dreaded driving for any longer then the time it took him to drive to work, he would often make a special exception to see his sisters in St Louis. His sisters Bethany and Jennifer share a house in St Louis, and he would visit with them generally staying only for the weekend. Jennifer, his youngest sister, had just broken off her engagement and was in slump. So Bethany, Tim's older sister, called him to arrange a surprise visit in an attempt to cheer her up. Tim reluctantly agreed, as Jennifer's moods are forever changing, but not easily swayed. Weary of highway driving, Tim settled into the beginning of the long drive ahead of him. Finally making his way off the highway and into a small suburban town just outside of St Louis, Tim sighed knowing he had only a few minutes before he was finished driving. Pulling into the yard of his sisters two story house, he noticed the grass had not been cut for a week or two. Chances were high that he would have to dredge through their separate garage turned storage unit to find the old mower to see if he could fix it for them again.Tim got out of his car and went to the back to get his bag. No sooner than when he had closed the door to his car, had the front door opened, and Bethany had come out to greet him. Bethany was 30 years old with long brown hair and blue eyes, about five feet four inches tall and weighed around 120 pounds. She worked as a defense attorney and never had trouble finding a man, but she was always busy at work. "Finally, you show up! I was wondering what took you so long." said Beth. "I know. I said I was going to call you when I left," Tim said. "But as usual I forgot. I saw that you called but I don't like talking on the phone while I'm driving. I'm a bad enough driver as it is, and I certainly don't need any more distractions." "Well, its fine as long as you made it here safe." "Yeah as far as I can tell I've made it here in one piece." Tim laughed to himself. Tim never had a knack for telling jokes, but would usually attempt knowing his jokes were terrible. "Uh yeah, come on inside, Jen's upstairs as usual." Beth said. Even though he had come all this way to surprise his sister, she only said a few words to him and stayed in bed the whole day. The day was uneventful. Most often the time he spent with his sisters was. Their time would be spent mostly with watching TV, or playing card games and board games. Other than that, if there wasn't something around the house to fix or yard work that needed to be done, Tim often found himself bored. Bored, but spending necessary family time. There was always beer in the house, so they could enjoy a cold one after conducting some home repairs. Their largest project lately was a complete remodeling of the down stairs bathroom. Saturday started of the same as always. Tim, being slightly hung over, made his way from the spare bedroom and into the living room and turned on the TV. Nothing like the DIY channel in the morning, he thought to himself. Beth came out of her room down dressed in a blazer and matching skirt. "Are you going somewhere, Beth?" asked Tim. "Yeah, there's been some sort of disaster at the firm, and I need to go in and save the world." replied Beth. "I see. Well have fun, don't work too hard." "I'll probably be gone all day so you're going to have to find something to do," she said peeking out the window into the yard. "Oh and try and get Jen's lazy butt up and out of bed. It's starting to become unhealthy." "Yes, ma'am." After about an hour of watching people buying and fixing houses, Tim decided he would get up and make some breakfast. He made his way into the kitchen and started rousing up some breakfast food. Eggs, bacon, instant pancakes, and toast were on the menu. He finished what he made and decided to make some for Jennifer. He knew she hated being woken up, and figured breakfast in bed would be an easy way to make up for it. He made his way up the stairs, but didn't bother knocking on the door since it was already open a little and his hands were full. He walked into Jennifer's bedroom, and immediately noticed his sister's awkward sleeping position. Jennifer was a 22 year old college student who worked at a local department store. She was about the same height as Bethany, but weighed a little less. This didn't stop them from sharing clothes however. Her hair was a dark blond almost brown and went down to her shoulders. She had the same blue eyes, as it ran in the family. She laid spread eagle in her bed wearing only a pair of lacy boy shorts and a loose fitting spaghetti strap shirt. Her blanket had been thrown to the side, as her bedroom tends to be warmer than the rest of the house. "Jen... Jen?" Tim asked as he set the plate of food and glass of milk on the night stand next to her bed. He shook her a bit to try to wake her up. Opening her eyes slowly, she finally came around. Her bedroom light was off but the hallway light was on, shining into her bedroom. "Geez Tim, you could at least turn the hallway light off." Jen said squinting. "Nope. Matter of fact," Tim said and walked over to her bedroom light switch and switched it on. "It's time for you to get up. Look, I brought you breakfast." "Fine! Fine! I'm up." she said completely covering herself with her blanket, hiding from the light. After a few minutes of lying in bed with the light on she finally sat up and starting eating the breakfast Tim had made her. "Some breakfast in bed, its cold you know." Jen said. "Well it would have been nice and hot if you hadn't been lying in bed for almost ten minutes." Tim retorted. Tim sat in a chair across the room and waited for her to get up. She sat in bed and finished the breakfast, pushed the plate toward the edge of the bed and slumped back, covering herself back up. "You're not going to sleep again. Come on, this isn't going to be like yesterday, you're getting your butt up and coming downstairs." Tim said. "Why should I? Just go back down stairs and hang out with Beth." Jen said from under her blanket. "I would but Beth had to go put out some fires at the firm. Damn woman is married to that job." said Tim. "Married?" Jen said starting to tear up. "Damnit, I'm sorry Jen. I didn't mean to say the `M' word..." said Tim. "It's fine, the `M' word, that's all it was to him, just a word. He never actually considered it and then he broke it off and I'm left all alone." She said sitting up hugging her knees, now crying loudly. "Oh Jen, I'm sorry," Tim said sitting down on the bed next to her attempting to console her. "You're not alone, you've got Beth and I'm here for you now." Tim wrapped his arms around his crying sister and hugged her tight. Her body felt warm as they embraced; something he'd missed for a while. Being busy with work as of late, he hadn't had time to seek out companionship. "You'll be alright kiddo." Tim said and went to kiss Jen on the forehead. However, Jen moved her head at just the right moment and Tim accidently kissed her on the mouth. Luckily it was only meant to be a quick peck, so Tim pulled back immediately. "What the hell? Why'd you move your head? I meant to kiss you on the forehead, but you moved." He said awkwardly. "I don't know," Jen said wiping away some tears. "I just turned to look at you. I didn't expect you to try and kiss me, weirdo." "What? Why would I kiss you?" "Adam said the same thing to me. He wouldn't even kiss me goodbye. I'm so ugly and useless. No one wants to kiss me." "What? No, it's not that you're not attractive; it's just that we're related. I love you and all, but we're relatives. It's kinda weird." "My life is over. No one will love me again; I'll only have unconditional love and kisses from family members." Tim thought for what seemed like hours. While his sister was crying and in need of comfort, he was actually thinking of that accidental kiss. It was like an electric shock. Even though it was only for a quick second, it felt amazing. Something so taboo and carnal, he had just a taste and he wanted more. What was he thinking? Was he actually considering committing incest? Jen was an attractive girl, but he had never considered doing anything sexual in nature with her. He made up his mind. He was going to try something he never had imagined in his life. "Listen, your life isn't over. You are a very attractive young woman." Tim said to his sister. He then tilted her chin towards him kissed her directly. They stayed that way for a second, than she pulled away. "That time wasn't an accident. What are you trying to do?" asked Jen. "Jen, you're beautiful. Any man would be lucky to have you. I just wanted to show you, since words seemed to be lost on you." "You can't be serious. You said it yourself, we're brother and sister. We can't do something like this." "Yes, we're related, but you mean to tell me you didn't feel anything from that last kiss?" "Well, I, uh..." Jen trailed off. Tim took this opportunity to kiss Jen once again but this time opened his mouth. Jen accepted his passionate kiss. He then started to kiss her on her neck and make his way downward. "Tim, um, maybe we should stop and think about this." Jen said quietly. "Do you really want me to stop?" Tim said kissing her neck and lightly playing at the bottom of her shirt. "Well, no, but isn't this wrong?" "No, I think its right."He said as he reached under her top. Jen's breasts were full B, possibly a small C. They fit perfectly in Tim's hand. Tim played with her nipple and pinched it lightly once it became hard. Jen let out a moan and Tim continued to kiss her neck. He laid her down, and let his hands play about her body. He stopped at the hem of her boy shorts. It's now or never, he thought. "Wait, Tim, before we go any further, let me take a shower." Jen said. "Are you sure? Can't say a woman's ever stopped me at this point." he said jokingly. "No please, I just need to clean up and think about this." she said. Tim wanted to take Jen right then, but the idea of doing it against her will would be rape, and that left him feeling wrong. "Of Course, go ahead and get cleaned up. We can continue this after you're done." Tim said. "Ok, I'll be back in a few." Jennifer made her way downstairs and started up the shower. Tim sat up on her bed and thought. What the hell? What am I doing? Am I Dreaming? Why didn't she tell me no and slap me? This is so weird. I don't understand this at all. I'm not a sicko. I'm not taking advantage of my sister. We're both grown adults. She wants this as much as I do. Tim thought about the situation and decided that if Jen wants to stop once she returned that would be it. He would never mention it to her or anyone and pretend it never happened. After a few minutes, Tim heard the shower stop. He waited patiently, but got a bit nervous when he heard her footsteps coming up the stairs. When Jen made her way back into the room, she was wearing only a towel. They looked at one another for about two minutes, before Tim broke the silence. "My god. What a vision. I love the fresh out of the shower look. The wet hair and towel are just sexy." Jen began to blush. "Well thanks, Tim. No one's ever said that to me before. There's another towel in the top shelf of my closet, can you hand it to me?" Tim stood up immediately and grabbed the towel from the closet and handed it to her. She patted dry her hair, and walked over toward Tim. He was about a head taller than her, so when she stopped in front of him she looked up to him. Tim was in heaven. He would have stopped time if he could. This was one amazing moment, having such a beautiful women looking up at him, and imagining what would happened next. "Well? Did you think it over in the shower? Took you long enough..." Tim asked but was cut off by Jen wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. She then removed Tim's shirt and pushed him down on the bed. Jen stood there for a second looking at Tim and then she dropped her towel. It was quite a sight, her body was amazing. She had curvy body, perky breast with soft pink nipples, slender legs and a tight butt. She had a sparse amount of pubic hair. From the looks of it, she normally shaved but was letting it grow out a little. She straddled Tim and leaned forward and began kissing him passionately. Tim wrapped one arm around her and with his other hand played with her breast. Jen felt his penis begin to harden under her naked flesh. The athletic shorts he was wearing made no attempt to hide his arousal. She broke the kiss and smiled as she stuck her hand inside the leg of his shorts and begin touching the length of his shaft. Tim's circumcised penis was hard and its head was beginning to leak pre-cum. Jen rubbed her finger along the top of the head working the fluids around. Tim leaned forward and continued to play with her breasts. "Jen, will you put it in your mouth?" Tim asked. Jen let out a giggle and pushed Tim back. She pulled his shorts and boxers off completely and took his throbbing member into her hands. She knelt at the foot of the bed and licked the head of his penis lightly, putting it in her mouth a little. Tim sat up so that he could see his sister doing something he never would have imagined. Jen had now begun to bob back and forth on the full length of his penis and was playing with his testicles. Her other hand found its way to her wet vagina and was teasing her clitoris. She was very skilled in fellatio, and effectively utilized her tongue and hands. Tim knew that he couldn't last very long at the rate she was going. "Damn Jen, if you keep going like this I'm going to cum." Tim said. Jen took his penis out of her mouth and stroked it. "Oh Tim, I want your cum in my mouth. Tell me when!" she said and quickly forced the entirety of his member into her mouth. It wasn't much longer until Tim was at his limit. He felt his orgasm coming and put his hand on Jen's head. "Oh Jen, I'm cumming. I'm cumming!" he said as he shot his hot load into the back of her throat. She kept his penis in her mouth for a few seconds before she sputtered and let it slip out. "Oh god, Tim I'm so hot. I love giving head, but I don't swallow." she said, letting the cum drip out of her mouth and onto her chin and breasts. Tim could not believe his eyes. His youngest sister was kneeled in front of him naked, pleasuring herself, his own cum dripping out of her mouth, and asking for more. Jen wiped away the cum with her towel and straddled Tim once more. "Tim, I'm soaking wet, give me what I want." Jen said and kissed Tim deeply. "One good turn deserves another. Turn around." Tim said Jen turned around, giving Tim the full view. Her vagina was pink and glistening. It was such a sight to behold he stopped and stared at it for a second taking it all in. Jen, getting impatient, began sucking on his penis once more and pushed her vagina down onto Tim's face. Tim took the hint and began to lick and suck without abandon. He used is mouth to stimulate her clitoris and worked his hand up her thighs until his finger found her vagina and probed its depths intensely. "Oh god, Tim, if you keep that up I'll cum, I'll cum..." Jen moaned. Tim didn't let up, he knew that she deserved the same amount of pleasure he received and he wasn't stopping until she was satisfied. Jen was working her hips in motion with Tim's fingers and he could tell she was starting to feel it. "Tim, Tim, sometimes when I climax, I pee. I'll pee on you if you keep this up. Don't stop, Tim." Jen said breathing heavily. Tim had known this to happen in women, but never thought his own sister be hovering over his face about to pee from the orgasm he'd given her. Jen sucked his hard penis all the while making sure that after she was done they could continue right away. "Oh, Tim that's it. I'm cumming!" Jen said as her legs gave way and she fell right on top of Tim, spraying pee right into Tim's face. "Tim I pissed, I peed on you, it's so gross, oh god." Jen said worried. Tim on the other hand just let the pee come. He kept his mouth open and tasted every drop of his sister's sweet nectar. There was about three or four squirts and Tim had caught them all square in the face. After it subsided Jen turned around to see Tim soaked in pee. "I'm sorry, I warned you." Jen said. "It's fine, dear god that has hot. I've never been pissed on before. Do you do that every time?" Tim asked thrilled. "Not every time, it only happened a few times with Adam and he didn't like it much." Jen said embarrassed. "I loved it! You are such an amazing woman. There isn't a thing about you would change. But, for now could you hand me that towel?" Tim dried himself off and kissed Jen. They both knew what was happening next, and they both wanted it. "Jen, I want to be inside you." Tim said "Then stop talking about it and stick it in!" Jen teased. Tim and Jen switched places and Tim began rubbing the tip of his penis around her vagina. "Wait, do you have any condoms Jen?" "Oh, who cares I want your hot dick inside me right now!" "There's a chance..." Tim started, but was cut off by Jen wrapping her legs around him. "Now." she said. Tim didn't need to respond, and plunged his unprotected penis into her. Jen's vagina was so wet and tight, it was like it was sucking him in. She obviously wasn't a virgin, but her vagina was the tightest Tim had ever felt. "Damn Jen, you're tight, oh god!" Tim said. "It's been a while, and Adam wasn't as big as you. Oh god deeper!" Jen exclaimed. Tim thrust into his sister time and time again each time her moans grew louder and more in rhythm with him. He leaned down and sucked on Jen's breast. He then kissed her passionately while he continued to thrust. "Let's change positions." said Tim. "What did you have in mind?" said Jen. "I love doggy style." said Tim smiling. "Then give it to me from behind! Ram you hard dick into my pussy!" "Damn you've got a mouth on you!" Tim pulled back and Jen got on all four and stuck her butt in the air, waving it at Tim. "Come get it brother." Tim couldn't take his eyes of Jen's delicious looking vagina and dove right in. He grabbed her by the waist and starting pounding his sister from behind. Jen put her face into her pillows and moaned uncontrollably. Tim was close to his orgasm, and he knew he would have to pull out soon. "Oh god Jen you're pussy is amazing. I'm about to come. God, I'm about to come where do you want it?" asked Tim. "I don't care! Come inside, it's safe. Just do it, I want to feel your hot cum inside me!" Just hearing the words come out of his younger sister's mouth was enough. Two more strokes and Tim was done for. "Jen, Jen! I'm cumming oh god!" Tim said as he shot his seed deep into her belly. "It's so hot Tim, god I love you." Jen said as she turned around gave him a deep passionate kiss. "I love you too, Jesus I never thought for a million years..." Tim was saying as he was cut off with another kiss from his sister. Afterwards they both lay there in Jen's bed out of breath, holding hands, and contemplating what had just happened. What have I done? Tim thought. Not only did I have sex with my sister, I came inside of her? I know she said it's safe, but what if she gets pregnant? "That was amazing Tim." Jen said. "Yeah it was definitely out of this world. And here I thought this was just going to be another run of the mill weekend. What do we do now?" asked Tim. "Well we definitely can't tell anyone about this if that's what you're asking. Beth cannot find out about this." Just then, as if she knew we had mentioned her name, Beth called Jen's cell phone. Jen answered the phone. "Yeah, what's up? Oh really? Hmmm I don't know. I guess he's here, I don't think he went anywhere. Yeah, he probably just fell asleep or something that's why he didn't answer. Um, I don't know, chicken I guess? How long until you get home? Well, don't hurry it not like I miss you. Ok, love you, bye." "So Beth called me and wanted to know why didn't pick up the phone?And I guess we're having chicken for dinner tonight?" Tim asked. Jen nodded her head. "How long until she gets back?" Tim asked. "Long enough." Jen said smiling. A Few hours later, Beth walks in the front door. She has a sports drink in one hand and grocery bags in the other. Tim and Jen were sitting on the couch watching a shark documentary. "Holy hell! Would you look at that! She finally came out of her cave. You might not want to sit too close to her, Tim. I don't think she's bathed in a few days." Beth joked. "I took a shower this morning! Matter of fact I had to take two showers today!" Jen answered quickly. "You HAD to take two showers today? How come?" Beth asked. "Well, that's because, we... uh... I..." Jen fumbled with her words but Tim spoke up, "We went out and fixed the lawn mower." "We? You actually got her to do some work? Besides, if you fixed the mower, how come the grass isn't cut?" Beth asked. "Well, that um, I fixed it and it took a lot of time, so I figured I'd cut it tomorrow. It's not like I've anything better to do, right?" Tim said chuckling to himself. "Hmm, well OK I guess, but don't go skimping out on it. You said you'd do it. Now I'm going in the kitchen to make you lazy bums dinner. And I had a fine day at work, thanks for asking." Beth said walking into the kitchen. In about an hour there was a delicious spread of chicken and potatoes, vegetables, and rolls. "Gee Beth, you didn't have to go to this extent. You could have just made some chicken helper." said Tim. "Nah, Jen is too picky, she won't eat chicken helper." said Beth. "Yeah, `cause chicken helper is nasty, most of it anyway. If you're going to have chicken it should be fresh." said Jen. "Whatever, tell your sister thank you for cooking and eat." said Tim. "Fine, dad. Thank you, Beth. There happy?" said Jen. "I guess that'll do." Tim said eating dinner. After dinner the three siblings played some card games and had a few beers. Jen doesn't like beer so they make sure to keep a few bottle of liquor around for her. After a few games, Beth got up from the table. "Ok guys, I think I'm going to head off to bed. Long day at work and this beer is making me sleepy. Tim, I don't want to hear any excuses about cutting the grass tomorrow." said Beth. "Yes, ma'am." said Tim. Beth went back to her room and started getting ready for bed. At this point in the night Jen was drunk, and Tim was feeling a little tipsy himself. "I'm going to the living room to see if there anything on." said Jen as she stumbled out of the kitchen. Tim stayed in the kitchen a bit longer putting the cards away and straightening up the kitchen. Afterwards he made his way into the living room. Jen was sitting on the couch flipping through the guide channel trying to find something to watch. "Oh, Original Sin, have you seen that Tim?" Jen asked. "No, it's got that one actress I don't really care for in it." said Tim. "It's not a bad movie, I'll put it on." she said. Tim and Jen start to watch the movie, and right as soon as Tim is about to call it quits, a sex scene come on. Although tired, this caught Tim's eye and convinced him to stay a little longer. He then noticed Jen; she had her hand down her pajama pants. She was pleasuring herself while watching the scene. Tim moved a little closer to her and began nibbling on her ear. Jen let out a moan and Tim moved down to her neck, and inserted his own hand into her pajama pants. Jen reached back and begin running her fingers through his hair as he continued to play with her clitoris. It was a thrill to play with his sister's vagina in the living room in plain view when Beth was asleep in her room behind them. Jen stuck her hand down the front of Tim's athletic short, and started to stroke his penis. "Damn, this is so hot," Tim said. "We could get caught any moment. Don't moan so loud." "Stop fingering me and if you want me stop moaning so loud." said Jen. "No way in hell. If I stop, you stop." "Exactly." Tim continued playing with Jen until she climaxed, wetting her pants. "Damn, now I have to change pants..." said Jen. "Well, you'll have to go up stairs to get new ones, right? Why don't I come with you, and we can finish what we started?" said Tim. The next morning Tim woke up in Jen's bed. Jen wasn't there, however. He made his way downstairs and saw Beth and Jen up and eating, Jen dressed for work. Beth didn't seem to care about Tim coming from up stairs. "I thought you had the whole weekend off?" asked Tim. "Someone called in sick today, so I picked up a double. Not bad if I say so myself." said Jen. "Yeah, not bad. Pretty lucky. Your Paycheck will be a little fatter this month." said Tim. "Maybe I ought to start charging you higher rent since you making more this month." Beth joked. "Anyway can you give me a ride to work? I've already arranged for one back, I just need to get there." said Jen. "I guess." said Beth. "Ya know if you don't want to, I can always do it." Tim volunteered. "I don't think so mister. You need to get out on that lawn. Now go." said Beth. "Yeah, yeah, I'm on it." said Tim. Tim grabbed the toast Beth had just made and went outside to start working. Great. I have to find the mower, fix it, and cut the grass, Tim thought. Beth and Jen passed by Tim on their way out. "I thought you said you guys already fixed that?" said Beth. "Well, we spent plenty of time inside it but I guess it didn't quite finish the job." said Tim. "Don't make that a habit; you need to make sure you always finish the job." Jen joked "Anyways, I'll be on break at nine, I'll text you to make sure you're done by then." "Whatever." said Tim. After a little work Tim got the lawn mower working and had just started mowing the grass when Beth returned home. Beth walked into the house as soon as she got home; it was a hot day outside. Tim mowed until late in the afternoon before he came in. When he came in Beth was sitting in the living room, drinking a beer. She was wearing a white wife beater shirt with no bra and some silky pajama pants. "Damn that beer looks good; maybe I'll get myself one."Tim said as he made his way through to the kitchen. "Can't, it's the last one." said Beth talking over the TV. "What? There was a lot more than one left last night." Tim said. "Well it was a long day, so figured why not. I don't have to pick up Jen anyway. If it means that much to you, have what's left of this one." "Fine, I'll take it." Tim said as he grabbed the can. "This one's half empty. Man, what a day, mowing all day and all I get is half a beer." "Well maybe if you tried harder there'd be a better reward, besides you missed a bunch of spots out there." Beth said looking out the window. "Whatever, if you don't like it that much go fix it yourself." Tim needed a shower after working all day. After his shower, he sat back out in the living room, but Beth wasn't there. She must be off doing something in her room/office, Tim thought. Tim was focused on the TV when all of the sudden he felt someone put their arms around him from behind. Then the person started moaning and nibbling on his ear. It sent chills down his spine. Surprising, but it turned him on none the less. He let it go on for a minute and felt their hands go further down his chest. He figured he'd dozed off, so he said the first thing that came to mind. "Ah, that's it. Keep going baby." Tim said. "What the hell do you think you're saying to your sister, you perv?" He heard Beth say loudly in his ear. Tim jumped up. "What the hell are you doing to you brother... you perv?" Tim said embarrassed. "Playing a joke on you. God you really take things too far." said Beth She then made her way around the back of the couch and sat down. "You ought to go get more beer since it was you who drank the last one." Beth said. "What? You're the one who drank them all. Just `cause I drank the last half of the last one doesn't mean I'm the one at fault here. I'm not going anywhere." "Fine me neither." "Besides, I can just text Jen and tell her to pick some up." Tim wasn't thinking about beer at all. The only thing he had on his mind was the warmth he felt and the moans he heard in what he thought was a dream. The more the thought about it, the more he thought about Beth's breast pressing against his back and her nibbling on his ear, her hands caressing his body. His penis was becoming hard just thinking about his sister. Beth started to get up, but didn't quite make it and ended falling over on top of Tim. Her hand landed right on the crotch of his athletic shorts. Being thin, she could feel what was beneath them, something hard and warm. "Whoa what is that? Did you get hard because of that joke I played on you earlier? You really are a perv." joked Beth. Tim looked around embarrassed, like he was caught doing something wrong. "No, it just gets that way. Come on sis, I know you're busy but even you have been with enough guys to know that." Tim joked awkwardly. "Are you saying I don't know anything about pleasing men? Just because I don't have a boyfriend right now doesn't mean I couldn't get one you know." "Sure, I got you sis; you're too busy, your job is more important." "You don't believe me? Well how about this?" Beth said as she sat down next to him on the couch and open mouth kissed him. Beth then stuck her hand down his pants and started stroking his penis. "How about this, huh? Are you still saying I don't know what I'm doing?" Beth said. "What are you doing Beth? We can't do this, we're siblings, incest is wrong!" Tim said reluctantly. "We can't do this? Incest is wrong? Really? You think I'm stupid? You think I don't know what you and Jen were doing on the couch last night? Or the reason you came from her room this morning?" "Oh well... that was... You saw us last night? Why didn't you stop us? Don't you think it's wrong?" "I didn't stop you at first `cause I wasn't sure what to think. But the more I watched you, the hotter I got. I haven't had sex for over a year. Then when the two of you were there going at each other I couldn't help but touch myself. I came twice. It was amazing." "Maybe, but that still doesn't make it right. Damn, I don't even know what to think about what happened between me and Jen and now you too." "You're saying you don't want me? Am I not sexy enough for you? Maybe thirty is too old. I'll do whatever you want. Please." Beth said as she pulled down Tim's shorts and began sucking on his penis. "Aw, hell." said Tim. He pulled down Beth's pants, pushed her thong aside and started playing with her vagina while she sucked him off. Beth's moans intensified as Tim played. She was skill even though she hadn't had sex in a while. She was playing with his testicles and working her tongue well. Tim wasn't going to last. He was jamming his two fingers inside his sister's vagina passionately. "Oh Beth, I'm about to cum. God here it comes!" he said as he came. Beth didn't move; she sucked harder, slightly squeezing his balls. When Tim had finished, Beth swallowed it all. "Damn Beth, did you swallow?" asked Tim. "Yeah, it wasn't bad. I bet Jen didn't swallow, did she?" "No... She let me blow in her mouth, but she didn't swallow." Tim was feeling lightheaded. In two days, he had done things he never imagined he would ever do in his life. He had sexual relations with both his sisters. What was happening? Tim's concentration was broken when Beth stood up, fixing her pants. "What's going on now?" Tim said. "Now I'm going to do a little strip dance for you. I'll show you how a woman pleases a man." Beth said as she slowly removed her pants and starting shaking her hips. Beth danced and put one leg on the couch. Tim couldn't help himself and reached for her vagina. He felt her through her thong. It was soaked. She turned around and shook her hips more and sat down on Tim and bounced. She then leaned back, and Tim put his hands under her wife beater shirt to feel her amazing breasts. Bigger then Jen's, they were high C's. Much more than a handful and her nipples were hard from anticipation. Beth then sat up flipped around and began grinding her vagina on his leg. She then stood back up and removed her shirt. Tim could now see her full shape. More curvy then Jen's body but none extra in place they need not be. Her breasts hung a little, but maintained a good shape, pointy to a tip with a larger pink nipple. Her Legs were a good size to match her well rounded butt. "My god Beth your body is amazing." said Tim. "My legs are fat." said Beth. "Your legs are beautiful. They're you. I wouldn't have them any other way. Now, come sit down, it's your turn." Tim wasn't much of a dancer but he tried a little to humor his sister. She laughed mostly but that was ok. At the end of his dance, Tim laid Beth down on the couch and got to his real agenda. He wanted to taste his sister's sweet vagina ever since he'd laid eyes upon it. Tim took no time; he spread her legs and pulled away her thong. She had more pubic hair then Jen, but it was very well kept, not visible outside of the front of her thong. He spread open her vagina and begin to lick and finger furiously. She immediately grabbed the back of his head and started moving her hips with him. "Oh Tim, right there that's the spot, lick my clit. God, lick it, lick it, Damn, Tim keep going!" Tim didn't bother saying anything. His goal was in sight and he wouldn't stop for anything. "That's it Tim, Tim, Tim!" Beth climaxed grinding her hips and closing Tim's head between her legs. When her orgasm subsided Tim was released, allowing him to breath. Both gasping for air, they sat for a minute. Beth was ready for the main event, but Tim sat on the couch for a minute longer. Beth got up and started sucking on Tim's member. He was ready now, and Beth straddled him. "Now watch, Tim. Watch as your raw dick slowly goes in my dirty pussy." Beth said. She sat slowly down until she had the length of him inside of her. She began to move. It was amazing. Tim hadn't had sex like this in a while. Most of the time he did the work, but it was nice to just match someone else stroke for a bit. Although Beth's vagina was not as tight at Jen's she had muscle control. She could easily squeeze him while he was inside her. "Beth your pussy is amazing; it's so hot and wet. God when you squeeze me, it's like you're milking me." said Tim. Time reached up and fondled his sister breasts while she gyrated over top of him. He sat up a bit and was now in a better position to thrust. He gave her few good thrusts, and Beth's moans increased. "That's it Tim, give it to me. God, I love your cock. It's been so long since I've had some." Beth said between moans. "Sis, if we keep this up I'll cum. I'll cum inside you." said Tim. "Wait, don't cum yet. If you want to cum inside me, you'll have to do it in my ass." Beth said with a smile. "Dear god Beth, You are amazing. You'll do anything." Tim took his penis out of his sister. Beth turned around, getting into a reverse cowgirl position. She then positioned Tim's penis and slowly pushed him in. "Oh Beth, your ass is tight. It's tighter then Jen's Pussy, God I won't last long here." Tim said as his sister road him.Tim played with her breast with one hand and stroked her clitoris with his other. "I love it in my ass, oh god I'm going cum. Keep touching my clit." Beth said. It wasn't long before her orgasm hit, tightening her grip on Tim. Tim couldn't handle the pressure blew his load deep inside his sister bowels. "Damn it Beth, sorry, I wasn't expecting that. I'd have said something at least. I didn't know you'd squeeze me so hard." Tim said surprised. Beth was leaning back on Tim and breathing hard. Tim slipped out of her and some of his cum slipped out as well. When Beth saw this, she swooped down and licked up the cum and started sucking his member once more. "Christ, now ass to mouth? Is there anything you won't do?" Tim said. Beth giggled a bit and open mouth kissed Tim. "Oh that was weird..." "What, you never tasted your own cum before?" "I suppose. And you, do you like the taste of your ass?" "I was after the cum, even if it came from my ass." God what a slut, Tim thought. "You think I'm a slut don't you?" said Beth. "What? No, I never said that. You're about the dirtiest girl I've been with, that that's for sure." "About the dirtiest? What's dirtier than a girl eating her brother's cum right out of her own ass?" "Well when you put it that not much, but..." "But what?" "Jen pissed on me, right in my face. She pees when she climaxes. I thought it was dirtier." "Hmm you might have a point. I've never peed on anyone before, I wonder how it feels?" Nine o'clock came quicker than Tim thought; his phone went off right at the end of their discussion. He didn't think anything of it, but Beth hoped up and said, "Oh, it must be Jen, maybe I should send her a picture of you!" "No wait, don't do anything!" Tim jumped up, but it was too late. Beth had the phone in hand. "'OMG work is soooo boring. I get so wet thinking about tonight <3'" Beth read aloud. "Oh there's another one, `SRSLY I had to dry myself off at least 3 times today. I want your cock so bad <3<3'. Jesus Tim, what is this girl on?" "I don't know... She never texted me anything like that before." "Well then how about this, I'll send her a little something to keep her busy at work." Beth said as she took of picture of Tim's semi-hard penis. "No no, that won't do. Let's try this again." Beth started stroking Tim's penis, and she licked the head teasing him. Tim was shaped up for the next photo. "There we go, oh the way the light glistens on the tip... Hmm, that should make a great photo." Snap. "Ok, sent. Now she'll have something to have fun with at work. In the mean time, I've got you all to myself until 12." It was a little after midnight when Jen arrived. Tim was passed out on the couch in just his athletic shorts; Beth had retired to her room. "What the hell? It smells like sex in here?" said Jen. She attempted to rouse Tim. "Hey Tim, what the hell? You send me an amazing photo like that while I'm at work? I damn near came when I saw it. I didn't expect that from you. Well honestly I didn't expect `us' to be happening either." Tim was half awake listening to his sister blab on. "Tim, are you listening?" she said raising her tone. "Huh, yeah. Sorry, damn, after mowing the lawn I drank all the rest of the beer and kinda passed out, I guess?" Tim said groggily. "Tim, this is bullshit. I was so excited to see you. All day I was waiting to get off work so we could... well you know, but now I come home and this is what I find? What was I thinking?" "Damn Jen, why are you freaking out? Keep your voice down. Beth is in the next room, you don't want her to find out do you? Look, let's go up stairs and talk about this, ok?" Tim said attempting to quell his younger sister's mood swing. "Fine, but you know what you need to do to make up for this." "As if I hadn't already planned on doing it?" It was Monday morning, the last day Tim could stay in St Louis. He needed to be back in Kansas City Monday night so he could be into work on time Tuesday morning. Once again he woke up in Jen's bed, but this time she was sound asleep next to him. He got up quietly, got dressed and made his way down stairs. He needed to shower, so he headed into the bathroom. He started up the shower, and got in. A few minutes later he heard the door open. Someone had come in and sat on the toilet. He could just hear the sounds over the shower. "Hey, what's going on here? I'm showering ya know?" But he didn't receive and answer. So he slid the sliding door of the shower open and there was Beth sitting on the toilet half awake. Now, with his head out of the shower he could hear her peeing. It never bothered him before, but since Jen had peed on him so many times, he gotten aroused due to the sound. He stepped out of the shower, and dried off real quick. "Now, I want to know what you're doing?" asked Beth. "Beth, don't wipe, let me lick you pussy clean." said Tim. "That's kinda odd, but ok." Beth said, standing up from the toilet. A droplet of pee dripped from her vagina. Tim buried his face between her thighs. He licked and sucked. Beth was starting to get weak kneed, as she had just woken up and now her brother was sucking her vagina clean. Beth suggested he lay down on the floor and 69. She wanted his penis, as it had been hard since he'd left the shower. After a few minutes Tim was done cleaning her, and an idea popped into his head; her butthole. He had gone down on women plenty of times but never had he ventured so far. It was right in his face and he figured since he just licked her clean of pee he might try it. He stuck out his tongue and flicked it. Beth took his penis from her mouth and giggled. "Damn, what's up with you this morning? I know you have to leave today but this is a little much." Tim didn't respond, only licked again. It had an odd taste, one he couldn't quite name. But it turned him on and he loved it. He buried his tongue in her butthole, digging deeper and deeper. "Ok, I think I know what Tim wants!" she said. Beth got on all four and held open her butt cheeks. "Take me, Tim. Shove your hard cock in my ass. Cum inside my ass and make me shit out your cum!" Time grabbed her around the waist and pushed his penis into the depth of her butt. He thrust in and out fiercely. "Damn Beth, I love your ass. It's so tight. You're such a dirty girl. I'll make you eat my cum fresh from your ass." Tim said as he pounded away at his sister. Beth didn't miss a beat; she was squeezing Tim as much as she could. "God, here it comes Beth. My cum take it. Take all my cum!" said Tim as he shot into her. He kept his penis in her as long as he could, but it slipped out. His cum didn't fallow directly, and Beth had to work to get it out. She squatted over hear hand and pushed. Only a little came out at first but she gave one more good push and to their surprise more than cum came out. There was a small piece of poop in her hand. Beth's face turned beet red. "Oh god. Well this is bound to happen. I'll just flush this away." She said standing up moving towards the toilet. "Wait," said Tim, "that cum is still good. I thought you were going to eat it? Your own ass or not?" Beth looked at him to see if he was serious or not. Tim was not joking. "I guess I could just suck the cum from around it right? I don't need to put that in my mouth too." She said as she sucked the cum out of her hand. Once it was all gone, she looked at Tim, the look on her face showed she did not care for the situation. Tim took hold of her hand and dumped the poop into the toilet. "I wouldn't expect you to do that. I know that you like pushing the boundaries, but that's a little far. I love you. You are an amazing woman and I won't make you do anything you don't want to." "I love you too, Tim. Thank you for accepting you dirty sister. Anytime you want to use me I'm here." Tim and Beth both got in the shower and cleaned up. Afterwards they made breakfast. The smell drew Jen downstairs. Jen came down and went into the bathroom. She came out a few minutes later. She walked over the stove and put eggs and bacon on her plate and sat down. "So how long is it until you can visit us again, Tim?" she asked. "I don't know maybe mid-September? There should be another extended weekend then." Tim said. "When are you leaving?" Jen asked. "Well, I'll be leaving here an about an hour." "Oh, well before that can you come up to my room? I need you help with something. I think my laptop got a virus or something." Tim smiled at Beth. "Yeah I guess I could check it out. But it'll have to be quick; I don't have a lot of time. I've a got a four hour drive ahead of me you know." "No I don't think it will take long, you're pretty good with this kind stuff after all." Jen said smiling slyly. Tim finished packing all his things back and took his duffle bag out to his car. He made his way back inside and up stairs. He knocked on Jen's door, and she opened it right away. She was wearing nothing but a black thong. Jen grabbed his face and kissed him deeply. He could feel her hard nipples through his t-shirt. She moved him to the bed and quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled down his jeans. She took his semi hard penis in her mouth and began sucking it. It wasn't long until it was hard. "Jen wait, I kinda need to keep these clothes clean, I have to travel in them after all." "It's fine. I'm just going to blow you, no need to reciprocate." "Ok, then don't stop." Jen sucked his whole penis into her mouth forcing it deep into her throat, causing her to gag a little. She skillfully massaged his testicles while wrapping her tongue around him. After only a few minutes Tim was ready to go. "Jen, baby, I'm gonna cum. Oh god, your mouth is amazing. It's almost as hot as you tight pussy. God, Jen, here it comes!" Tim said as he shot his load into her awaiting mouth. Jen quickly swallowed his entire load. At first she coughed a little, but she kept it down. "Dear god Jen, you swallowed it? Damn you really know how to make a guy feel special." "Did you like it? I made promise to myself I would swallow your load before you left, it was a bit rough, though." "It's ok. You'll get used to the taste. I can't wait to come back in September." Jen jumped up and kissed Tim, another taste of cum. Odd, but not too bad. Tim made his way down stairs, and met Beth at the front door. She kissed him passionately at their goodbye. "Hmmm, have fun upstairs?" Beth said. "Yeah just a quick problem, nothing I couldn't handle." He waved good bye as he backed out of their yard and into the street, dreading the four hour drive that would take him home. However, he did have a more than a few thoughts he could focus on during his drive home.

YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE (MF, cheat) "Mary, I think you ought to sleep with my husband." The sluggish overhead fan had completed quite a few revolutions in the humid tropical air before Mary's synapses could fully cope with that one. She became aware that her jaw was sagging, and that her copy of Time magazine had slipped from her grasp. She had been in the middle of the cover story, "Nixon re-elected!", when Virginia Allen had dropped her bombshell. They were the only two teachers left in the staffroom, as they had a free period directly after the lunchbreak. Outside, pupils taking a PE class seemed to shimmer in the heat coming off the playing field. Mad Englishmen in the noonday sun. "And why do you think that?" was the best reply she could muster. "He asked me to ask you. He thinks you are spunky." It was a while since anyone had called her spunky. And why should they? She was married to a high school science teacher and had three young children. In fact, this was her first year back at work since completing her certification year after training college. They had started a family right away, having married just after John's graduation. Those were the days when breeding was considered virtually automatic once the knot had been tied, and they never stopped to consider that they had any other option. But take Virginia. *She* was spunky. Five years younger, childless, a tall, big-boned red-head. And she had boobs. A fine handsome woman by anyone's reckoning. What would her husband want with Mary? "Um ... really? Me?" "Yes, you! Derek has a thing about brunettes. And you are quite huggable and squeezable, you know." Mary's surprise was starting to turn to shock. This conversation was real, it was happening, she didn't *think* she was dreaming any of it. She was very straight- laced. And hadn't found sex to be any kind of big deal. Why did people make such a fuss about it? When she saw the weird and innappropriate behaviour of some of the ex- patriates in this colonial backwater, sex was usually at the bottom of it. Why did it drive people so? There must be something she was missing. "You don't have a problem with people sleeping with your husband?" "Not if he asks me first, and I give the okay." Mary didn't know what to say, but thought to herself, "How very ... liberated!" Although there was only five years between them, it was really an inter-generational gulf. Virginia had been part of that Summer of Love thing the magazines often used to write about. As soon as Mary had become a mother she no longer bothered with cultural trends, not since the time when Neil Sedaka was hot news and a certain moptop quartet from Liverpool was only just beginning to sell records by the truckload. "I ... I really don't think so, Ginny." Virginia patted her on the knee. "Have a think about it. We re-locate back to Australia in a month, so you could just sleep with him once and then we're gone. No possibility of awkward recriminations." She gathered her things and stood to go. "Time for Art and Craft, and I have to look after Suzie's class as well." Susan Fletcher had a vicious alcohol habit that often caused a dereliction of her duties. Something had to be done about it; the other staff couldn't go on carrying her teaching load forever. Virginia went, leaving Mary still stunned. She gazed out the window again, past the kids taking PE, staring unseeingly across the road, beyond rusty old iron quonset huts built by the Americans during the war, coconut trees, to the sparkling blue sea beyond. This was a weird bunch of people over here. Colonial Service misfits, who either drank themselves stupid or fucked themselves stupid. Or both. Petty officials recently evicted by the independence movements in Tanzania and Kenya, but who couldn't face going back home. Or the other clique, idealistic adventurers looking to expand their horizons through travel, and do their bit for the third world. For many it was their first experience of being a white minority in an almost entirely black country. Not that it brought much hardship in those days. They were part of the elite, looked up to by the locals. Mutterings about independence and localisation and the shackles of colonialism were only just beginning in the capital. People in the outer islands were practically stoneage, often still pagan. Power politics came second to high infant mortality and a life expectancy of about forty-five, in *their* analysis of the issues of the day. Mary would have put herself and Virginia into the "adventurer" category. And up until this moment, she had regarded Virginia as one of the more normal of her acquaintances. Being pretty square, she was almost offended by Ginny's blunt proposition. Almost ... but not quite. There tickled within her a faint pinprick of fascination with the very idea of it. Sure, she got fascinated by horror movies too. But there were one or two braincells inside her (albeit heavily outnumbered) that seemed to view this particular "problem" more as "opportunity". And hey! What girl *doesn't* like hearing herself being described as "spunky"? But she couldn't. It really was out of the question. She was married, fer chrissakes! With three kids, aged ten, eight and five. John, now a Head of Department for the first time, was having a ball in this tropical paradise with the small sailing boat he had just finished building. She had only ever known one man. And that was the way it was supposed to be. Wasn't it? ~****~ "Come on, Hazel! We'll be late for Mass." Her step-sister was taking far too long about getting back into her black serge tunic, and was still fiddling about with the buttons of her white blouse. Why did the St Theresa's uniforms have to be so labour-intensive? Cold fingers in wintertime were hard pressed to cope. They were the last ones out of the changing sheds after the swimming class. It was the only time during school hours when it was okay for their skinny limbs and flat chests to be on show. And probably only because the icy cold water was supposed to be good for their character. The nuns were strict about modesty. "Bold girl!", they would say to anyone who dared to leave a couple of top buttons undone. But Hazel was in no hurry. She was in deep shit already. There'd been the small matter of a three-shilling discrepancy when she'd returned with the staff lunch orders that day. If it had happened to Mary, the presumption would be that she'd got diddled by that unscrupulous shop-keeper. But Hazel would have pocketed it herself, in their estimation. The telephone message by now would already have been relayed by Sister Rosemary to their mother. Who would tell their stepfather when he got home that night from work. Who would then give Hazel a hiding. The bruises were still there from the last one. Mary also got hidings, but not with the frequency of Hazel's. Still, if they could get to Mass on time, they would have another hour in which to pray about it. And if they didn't get there on time, then Mary would be getting a hiding too. Bad blood. Whenever Hazel screwed up, their parents always spoke of bad blood. Hazel had been adopted. Mary's mother was a war widow; in fact Mary never saw her father, as he was already on active service abroad when she was born. His grave was somewhere in France. Well-meaning relatives said another child should be adopted, to be a playmate. Enter Hazel, same age as Mary. A series of foster homes had already left their indelible mark. Hazel trusted no one, and didn't feel that she owed anything to anybody. But circumstances made the two of them close. Her escapades would get both of them in trouble, and their shared beatings bonded them in adversity. And post-war, their mother remarried and had another five kids. Go figure! ~*****~ The Ford Prefect was rocking quite insistently now. From the front seat, looking straight ahead through the spray-spattered windscreen at the dismal grey seascape beyond the parking bay, Mary said; "Hazel, what are you doing now!" Some gasping noises, and the rocking didn't slacken. "Keep quiet, and look front!" Hazel sounded muffled and out of breath. And strangely her voice was coming from somewhere well down behind the front benchseat of the Ford. She should never have agreed to come along on this drive with Hazel and Tom Winters. But Hazel had begged her to, knowing that she wasn't allowed to move a muscle these days without Mary as a chaperone. If Mary had arrived home from school without Hazel in tow, there would have been big trouble. Practicing strict self-censorship, Mary kept her eyes straight ahead. She didn't dare look back, not knowing what she would see if she did. It sounded serious, all these animal noises from the back seat. Suckings, and slurpings, and soft moans. She turned on the radio to drown it out. Frankie Avalon was in mid-croon. Hazel had a protruding clit. And Mary didn't. Except she didn't know it was called a clit. No one had ever called it anything in her presence. Such things were not discussed in their household. But she had seen Hazel's. When they were younger they often shared the same bath. It was big and pink. The clit, that is; not the bath. It poked well out from the tent-like fleshy hood that stretched around it, and was the most prominent feature of Hazel's pussy landscape. Even when she got her fanny hair, you could still see it. Mary had to poke around a bit before she could find her own clit. She had done it in private. Getting caught playing with her genitals would have seen her put on a diet of bread and water for a month. But she had to try and find it. She couldn't understand why hers was tucked so out of sight, while Hazel's could be seen practically any time she was knickerless. Could it explain why Hazel liked boys? And why boys liked Hazel? The girl was a boy magnet. Not just any old boy. Boys with cars, too! Mary, on the other hand, was a wall-flower. The few times they were allowed to go to dances, no one had ever asked her to dance. Yet she was not *too* bad looking. But she often risked getting trampled by the rush of boys wanting to ask Hazel to dance. Hazel seemed to exude that certain something, that je ne sais qoi, that caused boys to get lumps in their throat and lumps in their trousers. "It's getting late. We really should be going home." Now it was Pat Boone's job to drown out the groans from the back seat, but he lacked the rhythm to blend in well with the car's joggling. You would have needed Chuck Berry for that. And Chuck Berry was considered far too radical for any airplay in this here town. If Hazel and Tom were really doing what she thought they were doing, it was hard to imagine how they could manage it. We are talking English Ford here, not American Ford. Designed for English lanes and colonial "roads", the Pride of Dagenham was built small, light, easier to lift up out of bogs and ditches. But despite the lack of elbow room and knee room, in this country there was many a cherry got popped on the back seat of a Ford Prefect. ~*****~ John had practically been chosen for Mary, by her step- father. Well, not specifically chosen. But he was one of a bunch that had passed an initial screening process. Mary had been nagging her parents that she didn't know any boys, she wanted to get to know some boys, could they *please* fix it for her so she could meet some boys. Putting her head into the lion's mouth, you might think. But her step-dad actually had a bit of a soft spot for her. And her parents thought it best that they engineer the boy-meeting process themselves, since it was probably going to be inevitable. They didn't want her to turn out like Hazel, who seemed to attract completely the wrong sort. It was decided that they would hold a teenage party. Mary's step-dad coached a sports team of lads about Mary's age, and he hand-picked some of his charges to come and attend the party. John was one of them. The party itself was pretty boring. Tightly supervised, music kept low, rug-rat brothers and sisters performing unspeakably embarrassing acts of disobedience. And John didn't really stand out from the bunch. There was another boy she found much dishier. But by the time the night was through, it was John who had murmured an invitation for her to go with him to a dance the following week. A date! A real, live date! He came to get her at the appointed time, and they walked the two or so miles down to the Community Hall. Hazel could get guys who had cars, but Mary would have to walk. John seemed pleasant enough, and very sweet. But he promptly abandoned her at the hall while he went and talked to his sports-team buddies. It seemed an eternity before he retrieved her again. She put it down to first date nerves. The dance itself was fairly uneventful, though it gave her a chance to find out more about him. Like her, he was a bit of a reject. Well, different, anyway. His father was general manager of a small factory; plastics, or something. Socially, they considered themselves a cut above. His elder brother was in business, having been given a generous start by the old man. His sister was married to a businessman, a bit dense but old money so in their view she had "married well". John wanted to be a scientist, so was definitely a square peg in a round hole. It did not fit into their image at all. He got absolutely no support from them for this vocation, finan- cial or otherwise, but he was determined to stick it out. He walked her home. Soon would come The Kiss. And, hopefully, a request to see her again. She had already decided in advance that if he slipped her any tongue, then she definitely wouldn't see him again. French-kissing on a first date would be too forward for words. Fortunately, he didn't slip her any tongue. On such simple little things our fate is often decided. ~*****~ Inevitably, Hazel got pregnant. The nuns held a Council of War with her parents, and next thing she was sent away to a Catholic Home for Wayward Girls. There she was taught useful life-skills like how to sew buttonholes and darn socks, until the baby arrived. It was immediately put up for adoption, and a job was found for Hazel in a garment factory. As soon as she had saved up enough money for a one-way ticket, Hazel hopped on a plane to Australia. Her life there became a string of menial jobs and unhappy relationships. She never once wrote or called. It was to be another twenty years before Mary ever saw her again. Meanwhile, Mary and John were going steady. He had become besotted with her. She had become accepting of him, more or less by default. He was now at University doing his Bachelors degree, and she had begun her teacher training. She didn't really want to be a primary school teacher, but her grades had limited her choices somewhat. She was no Einstein anyway, and it was almost impossible to get much study done in that madhouse she called a home. Her younger siblings all needed looking after, and she was expected to do much of it. Her mother had kind-of given up after the twin boys arrived on the scene. When it all got a bit too much for her, she would phone John and sob, "Take me away from it all!" He would put aside his textbooks, venture out into the cold night air, buy a newspaper-wrapped serving of hot fish and chips, and meet her at the bus stop about halfway between their homes. Sitting there wrapped up in heavy coats, he would hold her hand and restore her sanity for another few hours. They intended to get married as soon as he graduated. And then put a large tract of water between themselves and their families. It was funny when they had announced their engagement. On hearing the news, John's father called at Mary's house, primed up by John's mother to give a speech. He was taken into the front room by Mary's step-dad, whereupon he delivered his speech. He did not approve of any uniting of their respective Houses. As far as he was concerned, Mary was from the wrong side of the tracks. She was second-generation Irish immigrant, and a Catholic, whose father worked in the railways. No son of theirs was going to marry into such a white-trash family. Mary's step-dad said he agreed wholeheartedly, he was no fan of the match either. He hadn't wanted John to team up with her at all. It was another boy among the initial selection that he had wanted her to start seeing. And no way did he want to become related to a capitalist-bourgois Anglo-Saxon Protestant sassenach like John's dad. That done and honour satisfied, they cracked open a bottle of whiskey and spent the next three hours yarning convivially about sports. The wedding took place the week following John's graduation with a BSc in Chemistry. It was a small affair, though far too big for John's liking, as he wanted to keep as much money in reserve as he could for their new life together. Having entirely paid his own way through University, he had become paranoid about money. Mary was a virgin on her wedding night. During their courtship they had done a certain amount of slap and tickle, but no penetration. He'd wanted to, but she had a morbid fear of getting pregnant. Look at what had happened to Hazel. Mary didn't want to be whisked away in the dead of the night like that, and be only spoken of in hushed tones for ever after. Sex was a disappointment. Neither of them had a clue. It was painful for her at first, and his preparation of her was usually minimal. As time went by he got better, but he only ever used his fingers on her. If they knew about oral sex at all, it was only that it was for nasty people. After a while the sex was not unpleasant and good for the feeling it engendered of intimacy and closeness, but she never came. She got pregnant within the first year, stopped working and became a full-time home maker for the next decade. John felt stifled in his job. Holding a junior science position at an austere and conservative boarding school for boys, he knew what was needed for advancement but couldn't bring himself to do it. The general idea was you had to stay in the same institution for forty years, drink beer with the principal on Friday nights, play golf with him on Sundays, and if you were of the right stuff you could eventually become a Head of Department, a Deputy Principal, and so on. John thought that such brown-nosing was for the birds. And he didn't agree with half of the school rules that he was meant to enforce. So he opted for adventure rather than status, and started applying for teaching jobs in various islands of the South Pacific. ~*****~ "Penny for your thoughts!" Mary snapped out of her reverie at once. No way could she tell John *that* particular thought! Standing at the kitchen bench slicing chuck steak for a pot of stew, she had found herself gazing at the lush jungle vista from their kitchen window, going over Virginia's propositon in her mind. "No, it's nothing" she lied. "Call the kids, I want them all washed and ready for tea soon." Coming here had been great for the kids. They seemed to spend most of their time running around in the jungle behind the staff quarters, playing cowboys and indians and committing God knows what acts of mayhem with the children of other staff members or from the village nearby. Sometimes she worried; after all, in this place they had real poisonous snakes, and scorpions, and centipedes and things. On the other hand, they had become so capable, and seemed aware of all the dangers. She couldn't keep them housebound all the time. Her thoughts came back to Virginia's husband, Derek. He was reasonably handsome, better-looking than John, though starting to develop a bit of a beer belly. He was quite charming, from the contact they'd had so far. No obvious social defects. She still couldn't quite believe Virginia's claim that he had a yen for her. Wonder what he's like as a lover? These days John was tending to piss her off. Things she had taken for granted in their relationship, she was now inclined to question. His tight grip on the family cheque book, for instance. When they argued, it was usually about money. He'd always been the breadwinner, and this was her first year of real work now that her youngest was school-age. She'd been accustomed to John calling the shots about how income was disposed of when it was entirely his income. But she felt she wanted to have a bit more say, now. And he patronised her in conversation. They would have people around for tea, or barbecues, and he always had to hold the floor. He seemed to have an opinion on just about everything, and loved verbal jousting just for the sake of it. Okay, so he was the intellectual and knew stuff that she didn't, but she liked to have a chance to speak too, you know. Starting work again was rebuilding her self- confidence. People at the primary school were willing to accept her for who she was, rather than just as an appendage of John. But he didn't seem to get it. At least once a month now they would have a blazing row, which the children found very upsetting. Sometimes it got physical, when she would try to hurt him in some way, just to try and get through to him. Pinches, punches, thrown objects. Stuff that was normal to her during her childhood, but her own kids had not been exposed to that before. And their sex was still pretty ordinary. The end of the school year was coming up. Part of his job at the Government boarding school was to supervise students during their return by inter-island ship to their villages for the vacation. He would return in about two weeks time, leaving the students to begin the back-breaking task of cutting enough copra to pay their own school fees for the next academic year. Mary had gone with him the first time, but never again! Everyone had to sleep on the heaving deck, and her lasting impression was of sea sickness, the smell of pigs and chickens, diesel oil, and no proper toilet facilities. She was not planning on going this time. This would be a window of opportunity, said those brain cells who saw her "problem" as "opportunity". More and more braincells had been coming over to that way of thinking. "You only live once!" they kept murmuring. A referendum of brain cells could now could go either way. You only live once ... The kids wanted to go to the Patterson's for a "Midnight Feast". The Patterson kids were very English, and spent much of their waking moments reading books by Enid Blyton. "Midnight Feasts" seemed to feature prominently in these stories about the Secret Seven, Famous Five, and so on. In common parlance, it meant the kids wanted to sleep over, and be allowed to stay up very late. With John away and kids out of the house for an entire weekend, it meant that the coast would be clear. You only live once ... She wasn't sure how to approach Virginia, though. What if Ginny burst out laughing, said she was only joking, had just wanted to see what Mary's reaction would be? It would be so humiliating. Next day they were on playground duty together. "So ... does your husband still think I am spunky?" "Ooh Mary! You've been giving it some thought!" "Well, it's hard to drive a revelation like that out of your mind." "Our place or yours?" "Hey! I haven't said Yes!" "You must be about to, or you wouldn't have raised the subject." "All right then! My place." "Can I come, too?" "GINNY!!!" Now Mary really was shocked. The idea of borrowing Ginny's husband was already beyond the pale. Having Ginny watch them at it was simply debauched! Besides, it would evoke unpleasant memories of Ford Prefects. Ginny realised she'd over-stepped the mark, and moved swiftly to retrieve the situation. "Fine! Whatever you are comfortable with." She gave Mary's arm a squeeze. "You won't regret it. He's quite good, though I say so myself." Saturday. By now John was bobbing up and down somewhere on the briny deep, and the kids had been dropped off at Pattersons. She had all of Saturday afternoon to get ready for her guest. She thoroughly spring-cleaned the bedroom. Got a posh dress ready, and her best knickers. Located their one bottle of whiskey in case some extra confidence was needed. Prepared a few snacks, as he might want to munch on something else before he munched on her. Darkness had fallen when the Allen's rusty old jeep pulled up into the drive way. He was well scrubbed up, too. Long pants and a Hawaian shirt, beard neatly trimmed. He had a bunch of flowers. The same kinds of flowers she could easily have picked in her own garden, but hey, nice touch! He brushed her cheek with his lips, and she led him to the cool verandah to sit and see what witty repartee he could come up with. "Good to see you, Mary, and I must say you do look lovely tonight." A good start, she thought. "Orange juice? Or whiskey?" she asked. She hoped he wouldn't say beer, because she didn't have any. "Whiskey and water would be great." She did one for him and one for her, and directed his attention to a tray of nibbles. She sat, and drew a deep breath, inhaling the thick, heavy smells of the tropical night; the sweet scent of flowers combined with musty earth still damp from the downpour earlier that afternoon. "So ... Ginny says you think I am spunky." "Oh yes! I've thought so for quite some time." "Do you often have your wife procure women for you that you think are spunky?" "Not all that often. But I fancy you something rotten, and since we leave very soon I thought, well, its now or never!" "I can't believe that Ginny doesn't mind you carrying on like this!" "This is nothing. We were living on a commune back in Australia. Half the time nobody knew whose kids were whose. Ginny and I don't feel permanently attached; in fact we only got married so that we could qualify for the bigger-size married quarters over here." Mary found this all quite mind-blowing. I mean, she had read about communes and such, but not come face to face with any practioners of that lifestyle. "So you don't care about the fact that I am married?" "No, not really. As long as John won't come and shoot me, or anything silly like that." "Well, he might! But he is not to find out. And don't you want to know why I am doing this?" "Presumably because you are fond of good sex." Hmmm, flattering himself already. Well, that remained to be seen. "Actually, its because I don't know if I am fond of sex, or not." He was quiet for as bit, probably considering how to handle that one sensitively. "Oh." "You mean ... John doesn't, how should I put it, light your fire?" Though not familiar with the music of The Doors, Mary knew what he was driving at. "Well, I don't know, I mean, what's supposed to happen?" "If it had happened, you would know." They lapsed into silence, gazing out at the hibiscus hedge, listening to the crickets chirping, seeing the occasional firefly go past. This assignment would be tougher than he thought, but he was up to a challenge. He spoke up first. "Shall we?" "Lets." They went inside to the darkness of the bedroom. He put his hands on her waist, bent forward and kissed her chastely upon the lips. He smelled good. Half the time you had to remind John to go and brush his teeth first. Another kiss, that lingered longer this time. No tongue yet, though. His hands started wandering. Gliding up her sides, narrowly missing her bra-less breasts under the long cotton frock she wore. His kisses radiated outward across her cheeks, and along her neck under her ear, his soft dry lips gently brushing her skin. It was hard to believe this was really happening. Familiar surroundings, but a strange man. It was like a dream. He was running his hands across her backside now. An unfamiliar touch, but pleasant all the same. He was gently biting into the top of her shoulder, and licking up to her earlobe. Then he brought his hands up onto her breasts for the first time. She had a moderately-sized handful to offer in that department, with big nipples. He seemed to like what he found, because he spent a fair while stroking and teasing through her dress with light caresses, while his lips found hers again. "Can I take your dress off?" She was not averse to the idea. He unzipped her and she raised her arms while he pulled everything off over her head. At once his mouth pounced upon her chest, licking and sucking, while fingertips traced down over her tummy roll and lightly touched her pubic mound. All very nice, but she wanted to see what he looked like. She started tugging at his clothing, and he stepped back to get everything off. Not bad, a bit paunchy but generally more athletic than John. His ... thing, already erect, looked to be much the same size. She got on the bed and he came and lay beside her. More kissing of breasts and sucking of nipples, while his fingers toyed with her mound through her panties. She grasped his ... cock, or whatever, and held it awhile, feeling it twitch every so often. Hello! He was on the move. Sliding down lower, tongue licking across her stomach, tarrying awhile around her navel, but its intention was clear. John had never done that. He could finger-fuck with the best of them, but had never got his face down below. Mind you, she hadn't asked him to. She had just assumed all along that it would gross him out. It had always been ingrained in her to think of that part of her anatomy as "dirty" and untouchable. He was tugging her panties down, exposing all of her. She lifted up her bum to help him, and next her legs were being pushed apart and his beard was tickling her inner thighs. Derek had clearly been ingrained differently. She was a little nervous, but, oh well ... if he insisted! Little dabs of tongue up either side, then he was delicately swirling over the summit of her mound. Her clit, as usual, was well hidden. A fact he did not seem to appreciate. He kept up his tongue action for quite some time, and all though it felt nice and erotic, she didn't feel that it was really leading anywhere. She lay quite still, concentrating hard, trying to make the most of the sensations he was providing. He found her stillness a bit unnerving. Finally, tongue- fatigue setting in, he pulled away. "You're supposed to be going crazy by now!" Am I just! She felt slighted by that remark. He was up over her now, licking her breasts again. He seemed to really like her breasts, especially the nipples. She recalled that Ginny had big breasts, but small nipples. He must like something he can really get his lips around, she couldn't help speculating. "Play with me, get me hard." He directed her hand onto his ... well, you know. She tugged on it gently, doing what she did to John when he wanted that extra few p.s.i. of turgor pressure. His fingers tested her opening and, finding it still wet from his tongue-lashing, decided to plunge in. Her overwhelming thought at that moment was a fear that she might fart. It happened sometimes, if John used the wrong angle. And that was okay, that was only John. They were accustomed to each other farting in bed. This was different; Derek may not see the funny side of it. But she didn't fart, and he soon set up a steady rhythm, gathering her legs up to wrap around his bum while he buried his face in the side of her neck. Again, it felt nice. As nice as anything she had ever done with John. But no fire- works or explosions. The surf did not crash, the molten larva all stayed safely stowed in its volcano. He was enjoying himself, anyway. His panting was quite loud in her ear, and his back was quite sweaty from his exertions in this tropical heat. Reaching down under her with his arms, he clutched her buttocks one in each hand, pulling himself into her harder until their flesh was slapping together where they joined. Then he was going full force, thrusting hard into her, unstoppable. She felt well and truly impaled, and as helpless as going on a Nantucket Sleighride. He completed the last few jerky movements of his hips, then rolled off her to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling and catching his breath again. Mary closed her legs, feeling sticky and a little tender. Was that it? "You didn't come?" he wanted to know. "No." "That's odd. Usually I can make a woman come." She didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything. He snuggled closer, holding her hand in his. "Oh, well. We can try again later. Maybe I need to lick you for longer." Maybe. Anyway, they did try again later, and he did lick for longer. But Mary was trying too hard, and just felt herself tightening up inside. They screwed a second time. She wasn't as turned on as the first one, and really just lay back and left him to it until he was done. She sensed that he was a bit disappointed by her lack of responses. They dozed for a bit, then he got up and dressed again. She put on a nightie. He sat on the edge of the bed for another few minutes, holding her hand. "Thanks Mary. You were every bit as sexy as I thought you'd be," he said gallantly. "You can carve another notch on your gunbelt, then." She found herself saying. "Never! Mary, you are anything but a notch. Unless you mean top-notch!" The sound of his jeep receded into the distance. Mary looked up at the ceiling in the darkness. Oh well, that was her little adventure then. They say you only regret the things you haven't done. At the same time, she didn't really feel any overwhelming desire to ever do this again. Suddenly, for the first time in several years, she found her- self thinking of Hazel. Now there was a girl who seemed to enjoy fucking under almost any circumstances. Funny how people can be so different. ~*****~ John ducked, and the jug she threw smashed against the wall. Her eldest boy was wide-eyed with horror. The other two had already run to their rooms, sobbing. Mary was so furious with him. It had started with something silly. She had learned how to drive now, and had wanted to drive back from the river they had picnicked at. He liked driving too, and thought fair's fair, it should be my turn. His dogmatic adherence to principle was driving her nuts. He got his own way on so many other things, why couldn't he give in to her just this once? Then the kids started reacting, and playing up. They wanted icecream, they wanted this, they wanted that, they wouldn't eat the yummy vegies she'd cooked when they got home. At her suggestion that they eat it even if she had to ram it down their throats, John had stepped in and said, "Now dear, I think you are being unreasonable." If any words could anger her more than those, she had yet to hear them. "You never back me up! How are we going to raise them right, if you don't back me up?" John refused to yield. In arguments, he had this infuriating habit of staying so cold-bloodedly rational. Next thing, the milkjug was history. Her eldest now retired from the scene of the battle, no doubt fearing a stray bullet. Mary really wanted to hurt John at that moment, really rock him back on his heels. "Anyway, what makes you think you're so perfect? You're a bad parent, and a lousy lover." "Had lots of lovers, then, have you?" he riposted, smug in thinking that he knew the answer to that one. "I've been able to compare. And you stink!" She blurted it out, knowing it was a secret she should take to the grave but unable to resist the chance to have a go at him. "Yeah, right! When? Who?" His disbelieving tone goaded her into further indiscretion. "Derek Allen. November 1973. While you were on the boat to Malaita." Well, if she had wanted to rock him back on his heels, it had worked. John had gone pale, and needed to sit down. In the ensuing silence, she began to calm down. The full import of what she'd just said was beginning to register. She'd just put her whole marriage at risk. She sat too, and stared out the window. No telling which way he would jump. He stood suddenly and went down to the basement. He was gone for several hours. Every so often she would hear the clink of a spanner or the revving of a power tool, as he worked on some project or other. She hoped it wasn't a gallows. Later, he returned and sat beside her. The kids were in bed asleep now. "Was Derek Allen really a better lover than me?" "Yes, but only slightly. He used his tongue on me." And after that had sunk in: "Was that the only time?" "Yes, that was the only time." Neither of them ever raised the subject again. ~*****~ Things remained a little cool for a couple of weeks after that last bust-up. They acted normally around the kids, but were not affectionate with each other. Then their daughter was found to have a cyst and needed a minor operation. The anxiety of that particular drama pushed everything else out of their minds, and by the time it had been satisfactorily dealt with, their relationship was back to normal again. Well, normal enough for sex to become a possibility. John could be an irritating s.o.b., but there was no denying that he thought the world of Mary. She often took the steadfastness of his love for granted, but right now she felt quite appreciative of it, and of him. She had also made an intriguing discovery. Putting a packet of sandwiches into his school satchel one morning, she glimpsed the cover of a book that was not directly linked to John's usual academic interests. It was called "The Joys of Sex". She thought this to be such a typical response of his rational mind; if there's a problem, then do some research. She wondered what conclusions he would draw from his review of the available literature. Kids asleep, nothing much on television, they had begun to snuggle. She was still the girl for him, he told her, and always would be. They retired to their bedchamber, and began the usual preliminaries. He spent ages kissing her breasts. He had always been a confirmed nipple man, and his usual practice was to linger over her boobs while using his fingers to check down below if she was ready or not. But tonight was different. After ministering to her nipples for a good long while, he left them glistening and erect while his tongue traced over her midriff and tummy. He had a long and pointy tongue. Sometimes to amuse the children he would poke it right out and could make it touch the tip of his nose. She hadn't seen anyone else who could do that. He had hidden talents, her man did! And now that he appeared to be on a southbound route, she wondered with anticipation what else he could make it touch. He progressed to the top of her mound, and began sniffing and nibbling. Trying it, to see if he would like it, she presumed. And he must have approved, because he was now sliding down between her legs and licking at her inner thighs. He'd never done anything like this before. And she'd have been shocked if he did, when they were first married. Or very surprised that he'd even want to. According to her upbringing, that was an unclean area. But her fling with Derek had opened her mind to the possibilities. It just needed some practice, some perseverence! And she wasn't about to stop John and question his motives at this point. All things cum to those who stand and wait? She hoped so. He was flicking up and down her outer lips, teasing the pubic hair there and making it wet and matted. He was close to the goal, but not there yet, and her feeling of anticipation was becoming intense. The moment arrived, when he started probing at the top of her cleft. Such a long, pointy tongue, soft and gentle, yet firm at the same time. It was starting to feel nice. He was not quite hitting the right spot, but in the mood she was now in, it seemed he could not put a foot wrong. So sensitive down there, and so delicious! She lay back, eyes closed, and decided to enhance her pleasure by stroking her breasts and rolling her nipples between thumb and forefinger. He looked up and saw this, and was momentarily surprised that she was taking an active part in the proceedings. This was not usual, and the thought that he was inspiring some responses acted as a spur to his efforts. He still hadn't quite found the spot, and the teasing was becoming unbearable. She felt she better do something. So she reached down and used her hands to spread herself, parting her cleft. He saw the tip of something small and pink pop up amongst her folds, and he was onto it in a flash. Oh my GOD!!! Her hips jumped, and she almost lost her grip upon herself. It was as if lightning had just tickled her spine. He took over, using his own hands to spread her and find the target. She had to grab onto the bed head, as her pelvis writhed to get more tongue against her. Then it started. The intensity of feeling had built up until release now felt inevitable, she was past the point of no return. Oh please, don't stop now! She came in a heady rush of sensation, a level of physical pleasure that she never knew existed until that moment. Then she was coming back down from it, and couldn't bear to have him continue. It was just too sensitive, every neuron was on full alert. She clamped her thighs about John's head to hold him away from her sodden vulva. "Wow!" he said. "Was that finally the Big One?" She just went "Mmmmm ... ," feeling all spent, wrung out like a dishrag. He had become very turned on by her reactions, and when he moved up over her to kiss her softly, she felt something bumping and prodding down there. He slid in easily because she was so open and wet, and to him it felt better than usual. Her insides seemed somehow more clingy, more elastic, and deliciously slick. Sometimes there could be difficulty or resistance in there, but not this time so he went for it. It didn't take him long, and she felt close and tender feelings for him as he got totally undignified with her. No rational, dissecting mind was anywhere in sight. She liked being able to turn him into such a beast. She lay on her side with her back to him, tucked in like spoons as he held her in his arms. "Well?" he said. "Do we have a sex life, or do we have a sex life?" "We have a sex life," she said contentedly. Yep, he certainly had the makings of talented tonguemanship. And now at last she knew why people make all this fuss about orgasms. Tonight had been a step forward, all right. Now there were just a couple of other things to sort out in their relationship. And she'd get to them; give it time ... ~*****~ People were still coming to the house. Soon there would not be room for them all, and some would have to go out into the garden. Just as well the weather was fine. On every flat surface there were more plates of scones and trays of quiche than you could shake a stick at. Her eldest son had just phoned to say he and his wife would be flying in tomorrow morning. There had been at least twenty calls from people in the last hour alone. She felt empty, numb. Almost in a daze. People talked to her in low voices, and to each other, mostly talking about other things. Trying to take her mind off it, and their own minds too. When people spoke, she put up a good show of nodding and going "Mmmm" in all the right places. But she was thinking back, reviewing things in her mind. In the last few years, John had got a lot better to live with. It had taken a long while, though, and took almost a revolution in their domestic arrangements. When their children reached the stage of needing to attend *real* schools and universities, they had returned to their native country again. There, John discovered the cost of those years of broken service. Out of the loop for so long, the best he could manage was occasional relieving teaching. And snotty Westernized teenagers were a far cry from the Pacific island students, who would so willingly spend their vacations cutting copra to gain the priviledge of an education. Mary, on the other hand, began showing an interest in sculpture. Initially it was because, when gouging holes in a lump of something or other, she could imagine that it was John's head. Very therapeutic. But she got quite good, and began exhibiting. Then she was invited to be a tutor at an art college, and after paying her dues for a few years she applied for, and got, a position as a faculty member. John took it hard at first, this reversal in their roles. She was now the main breadwinner, which meant that now *he* had to ask *her* for money. But she made it easier for him by putting one quarter of her salary into his bank account each payday. He felt so useless when out of work, as if he were on the scrapheap. But he cashed in his pension fund and bought a yacht. A small keelboat, it was his pride and joy, and at least three times a week he would be out on the water in it. Building up an intimate knowledge of local tides and currents, he took pride in being able to out-fox racing yachts twice his size. And their sex had become worth looking forward to, these days. Another breakthrough for her was getting her tubes tied. The Pill had never ever quite felt like real protection. It was as if there was nothing there, and she always felt nervous of unwanted pregnancy. Nowadays, with her tubes tied, she could really relax and get into it. He was also better in conversation. Especially in the last few months, she really felt that he was listening to her. Not trying to rationally *solve* whatever problem it was, and then being unsatisfied if he couldn't. He seemed to have finally twigged that, half the time, she just wanted him to listen to her. And just accept her point of view without thinking that it had to be debated. A policeman came to the door, bearing a big plastic bag full of soaking wet clothes and personal items. John's Rolex watch (funny how he never economised on things like that!), wedding band, and wallet. She didn't know quite what to do with the bag, and in the end just left it outside the front door on the path. She went into their bedroom, just to escape people for a while. His pyjamas still lay where he had tossed them on the floor that morning. She hated it when he always did that. She picked them up and held them to her face. She could still smell his smell on them. As far as anyone could tell, there was nothing that could have been done. He was always so cautious, and took every possible safety measure. The weather forecast had not predicted winds of such magnitude, or from that particular quarter. It was just a freak. The only way to have avoided it was by not getting out of bed in the morning. And that was not his way. Are you supposed to feel this empty? She felt she should be showing more emotion than this, but didn't even feel the urge to cry. If there was any emotion at all, it was anger. John, you bloody idiot! What did you have to go and die for? If you liked this story (or not), be sure to let me know at [email protected]

THRILL OF THE CHASE (MF, exhib, cheat) "Yale Law Review - they all go to the Current Journals section." Carol reeled off an identifying number from the new coding system, and soon I was able to find the correct shelf. I heaved the stack of musty tomes up from off the trolley. ""Come and work for a big glamorous law firm", they said. "Do important cases and be famous" they said ..." I tailed off sardonically. "The cases we have to do are these ones ..." Carol swept out her arm to indicate the rows of tall grey metal bookcases in the archive room. "... in accordance with this new system". She tapped emphatically on the manual we'd been given by Brad, our immediate boss, when he told us we'd be working together on this "vital reorganisation" of the firm's case-law collections. Carol had been here almost twenty years, but I was a new kid on the block. A lot of the people here I still only knew by sight. Including Carol, until just lately. "If you don't like it" she continued, "why don't you quit this job and finish your law studies full-time? That way, you'd start at the top. Well, the middle, anyway." "I don't have the dough. And it will look good on my resume. Always looks better for a law student to be doing the shitwork of a law firm than some grocery store ..." She flinched at this. "Excuse me, I've been doing this ... this "shitwork" since almost the time you were born ..." Oh-oh! Looks like I was in for an inter-generational telling-off! But, impetuous youth that I was, the flames got fanned with: "Yes, how'd you put up with it for so long? I'd have been driven insane by now!" She went quiet, then: "Sometimes it does drive me insane. But it's a job ... and better than some things I could be doing ..." That made me bite my tongue. I'm no bleeding-heart liberal but you didn't have to be an Einstein to get her drift, about being a girl, and Hispanic, and growing up in the place that she did. "So I always take this kind of thing seriously " she continued. "It's Brad's way, or the highway." "To hell with Brad! Soon this stuff will all be on-line anyway! I'd rather be working-out, or mountain-biking ... anything but this for three straight weeks!" "Then go ride your mountain bike, so I can go ask Brad for a new assistant. One who can knuckle down, and not just be only thinking about "looking good" ... if kids like that can even be found these days ..." My turn to get tetchy, about being called a "kid". At twenty-one, hadn't I just been given the keys to life, and everything? Anyway, what's wrong with looking good? Far from a sign of laziness, it'd been a career in itself developing an upper body like mine. But the conversation here was really not that heated. Banter like this helped to pass the time, and after this exchange we lapsed into silence for a while. Then we got on to spouses. "So ... when did she move in with you?" Carol wanted to know, having just learned about the existence of Fay. "About three months ago. It's getting serious, I guess" "I guess. Are you engaged?" "Shit, no! I'm not ready for anything like that!" "I'll bet you're not. But what about her?" Carol's probing hinted at a deeply ingrained Catholicism. "I dunno. She hasn't said. We mostly just have a good time together." "And what makes a "good time"?" "You mean, lifestyle in general? Or intimate secrets?" "You can save the intimate secrets. I meant lifestyle in general." "Okay, I guess we have a lot in common. She's sporty. I'm sporty. We met when competing in a triathlon. I like to spend a lot of time in the gym. She does too, fortunately for me. It'd cause a problem for us if she didn't." "What else?" "I like girls with athletic bodies. She has a very athletic body. Very taut, very ..." "Hey, that's intimate!" "No it's not. I'm just describing her figure." "To us women, having our figure described is intimate." "Why?" "It's like being looked-at all over, but in words ... oh, never mind!" "I thought women like being looked at!" Carol didn't dignify that with an answer. Another period of silence, punctuated only by book-moving talk. "Anyway" I said after a while, "Enough of me, what about you? What do you think about me?" I'd heard this line in a Bette Midler movie, but if Carol thought it witty she didn't show it. "I got married when I finished high school, and have two sons. Miguel is smart, handsome, but shy. Anton is lazy and already a charmer with the ladies." "Anton ... that doesn't sound like a Spanish name." "It isn't. I just happened to like it." "And your husband?" She was slower to answer that one. "Anton takes after him" was all she'd say. After I'd digested this, my mind went back to what she'd said about describing a woman's body. I'd just tried to describe Fay to Carol - so how would I describe Carol to Fay? Not that I made a point of letting on to Fay that I noticed other women's figures - quite the opposite. But I did notice. I noticed lots and lots and lots. Especially Brad's personal secretary with the legs that went on forever, and the junior clerk in Accounts who sometimes wore a tight stretchy miniskirt, and ... ... so why hadn't I particularly noticed Carol before? She's not from an age group I was attuned to noticing, perhaps. I regarded her surreptitiously, or so I thought. Her face was pretty, with smooth olive skin, though some lines here and there. A strong face, with heavy eyebrows if left unplucked. Nice full lips. Dark hair that fell in heavy curls about her shoulders. Dark eyes, usually with a warmth in them but sometimes guarded and sometimes with a trace of sadness. Figure ... a lot more rounded than his own past dates or preferences to date. Her frame was petite, and a little padded now with the passage of time. A narrow waist that flared out to her hips, a blouse front that swelled promisingly, and a gorgeous backside under that tailored skirt. She could look good - could put to shame some girls half her age. But the packaging ... she always dressed conservatively. Demurely. Dressed down, you could say. In a way that always lessened rather than increased attention toward her ... ahem ... "assets". She looked up sharply and caught me "regarding". "What are you looking at?" "Nice outfit!" I volunteered. "Thanks" she said, but gave me a funny look. A few more days passed, in the same old boring tasks. I couldn't wait to get back to my usual desk, doing my usual paperwork while surreptitiously surfing the net. The only upside of my present task was working with Carol, who was loosening up a bit and becoming easier company. Though I got the impression that at times I irritated the hell out of her. "Have there been many other girlfriends before Fay?" Carol wanted to know one day. "A few. In fact, several. I lost my virginity when I was fifteen." I was being deliberately provocative here, and expected censure for it, but there was none so I followed with "How 'bout you?" "Eighteen. On my wedding night" she said primly. One point to her, in the morality stakes. But a milestone had just been passed. We were now talking about intimacies. "To have had so many girlfriends already, you must change them like library books. How do you do it?" she wanted to know. "Same way you'd change a boyfriend, I guess". "Which is ...?" "You mean, you don't know?" "I've only ever had the one. I married him." "Weird! Try before you buy, I always say! It pays to shop around." She allowed a silence which obviously did not indicate assent, then "Well ...?" "Well, it's usually obvious if we're, like, drifting apart. We'll see each other less and less, phone each other less and less, then one of us finds someone else that we want to see more, and then ... we say "It's over. Bye- bye!"" "As easy as that?" "As easy as that. Unless, you've just met someone really hot, and you want to be free of complications real quick, then it can get heavy." "So, what do you do?" "Just tell her." "Tell her what?" "That I don't want to see her anymore." "How does she take it?" "Not well. Lots of waterworks, maybe things thrown. A stuffed toy once got disemboweled with a bread knife. Very symbolic. But hey, to make an omelette you gotta break some eggs!" She didn't approve, I could tell. But then, she'd asked a straight question and I'd given a straight answer! She got back to asking about Fay. "What's the main thing that first attracted you?" "Her body. In a two-piece Lycra triathlon suit, she looked so hot. I had to ask her out, the minute I saw her." "What was so great about the triathlon suit?" "The way it clung. And what it was clinging to. And the fact that she was dressed like that in front of 300 other entrants, mostly male." "Is she big ... y'know, in front?" "Nah! Fried-eggs! And just as well, if you're an athlete." "Do you still allow her to dress like that in front of other men?" "Sure. I get a kick out of it. She does too." CRASH! Carol's grip on a pile of folders momentarily faltered, and most of them ended up on the floor. We scooped them back up. While we were bent down on the floor, I took the opportunity to glance down her blouse. Only a brief glimpse of a deep cleft, but enough to confirm the presence of certain attributes that would render her seriously triathlon-challenged. "How do you know she gets a kick out of it?" Carol finally brought herself to ask. "She told me. We were confessing turn-on's to each other. She says it's like a revenge on all the big-breasted women in the world, when she dresses to make her nipples really obvious. Guys can't take their eyes off them!" Funny, Carol didn't seem to be placing so many news-blackouts on "intimacy" these days. But she had her limits. When she asked "And what's the main thing that keeps your relationship going?" I replied simply "The sex. Her blowjobs are fantastic!" Carol was offended by my crudity, and ended the conversation to go into a huff for a while. But hey, it was the truth! Well, not totally. I was about as in-love with Fay as I was capable of being in those days. But if I'd been forced to choose between love or blowjobs, it'd be a close call. I guess you could say I had a short attention span. Speaking of which, Carol was starting to catch my attention more and more. Why, I don't know. Maybe it was a combination of things. First, she was different. Different to what I was used to. Soft and rounded, not lean and taut. Dark, not fair. Quiet and considerate, not showy or egocentric. Mature, but on some things quite nave. Or was it just the close familiarity we now had at work, being on the same project for over two weeks with mostly just each other's company - a sort-of "hot-house" atmosphere where things might happen that in other circumstances wouldn't? Or maybe it was just the fascination of somebody who is off-limits, a case of wanting to obtain the unobtainable. I mean, I'd have no intention of forming a relationship with her. She was at least fifteen years my senior, and married with kids. At least that's what I'd remind myself each time I found myself fantasizing about her, or glancing at her legs while she was up the stepladder with a stack of files. Good legs, too ... now stop it, will ya! "Nice outfit! It suits your figure." I was taking to making little comments to show I noticed what she looked like. Yeah, obvious, I know. Subtlety was not my strong point. She was suspicious at first. "What figure? I'm a mom, remember?" But after a couple of days she'd take my occasional compliments in good grace. She'd even return them, in an indirect way. Like, instead of just saying "Lift that carton of files up for me", she'd instead go "Get those ab's and pec's working for me, will ya?" and give my upper arm a squeeze. I enjoyed her touch. I began wondering how I could take this further, how I could find some way of winding up in bed with her. Then fortune smiled upon me. Or so I thought. "Hand me up those Harvard publications?" She was balanced on the ladder, high enough that I could see a little thigh under the hem of her knee-length skirt. Nothing to get too excited about; still, she had to place one foot on the bookshelf itself to reach across to the "H" section, almost out of her reach. Would I get to see more? One foot was still on the ladder. Not an ideal situation in terms of the laws of physics. And sure enough, the ladder toppled sideways. She had one foot on a shelf, but immediately lost this precarious toehold. It happened so fast that my reaction was purely instinctive, but I managed to catch her as she literally fell into my arms. I was able to break her fall, but got pushed off-balance hard up against the opposite shelving, with Carol wrapped up in my arms. We remained frozen like that for a couple of seconds. Then I kissed her. Just lightly, on the lips. Fairly chastely, I thought. I kissed her again, a little more forcefully, seeking out each full lip. But now her eyes had gone round like saucers, her hands came up between us, and she tried to fend me off with a hard shove. Except I was still jammed against the bookshelves, and had my arms around her. Her arms relaxed for a bit, and I felt her lips soften too. The tip of my tongue flickered along the tiny gap that was opening up, but then her lips hardened again and she pulled her face away. "Please stop! This isn't right ..." "It feels very right to me" I replied, bending and covering one of her soft cheeks with light kisses that ended at her earlobe. She tried another push. "I'm married! I can't do this!" My lips tried to move back to her mouth again. "Stop! This is harassment!" That brought me to my senses. I released her at once, and she spun away. She stood against the shelves a few feet from me, looking straight at the floor, and breathing heavily but otherwise silent. "Carol, I'm sorry! I ... I don't know what came over me! I acted on impulse, I guess ..." She gave me an angry look, though her anger was already fading - from white-hot to about red-hot. "Look, you're basically a nice guy, and I don't want to get you into trouble, but if I say "stop" can you please stop?" "Yeah, sure. I ... I really apologize for upsetting you." Her dark eyes flashed hard looks at me for another few moments. "Accepted. Now lets get back to work. Your turn to go up the ladder." We spoke only a little for the remainder of that day, just sticking to the business at hand. She was really pissed off with me. And fair enough, too. I must have been nuts to think she'd respond to an overture like that. I was feeling pretty embarrassed about it. Every so often, though, I'd catch her glancing at me briefly. She was working on auto-pilot, and seemed often lost in thought. "Good morning! We're not far from finishing ... in just another few days time!" was Carol's greeting to me next day. Everything seemed cool again. She could even joke about the day before. "Can you spread a safety net around this ladder before I do my next high-wire act?" she kidded me upon going up its steps. "I'll get a mattress and lay it ready, so you can have a real soft landing this time ..." "As long as its not a double mattress ..." she shot back. All in all, she seemed to be taking my indiscretion in good humour. Another day later, and Carol did something out of the ordinary. Ordinarily, she'd be dressed in formal skirts of conservative length, and loose, heavy blouses that didn't give too much indication of what she had up on top. Today she still had the regular skirt and tailoured jacket, but she'd also chosen a thin knitted sweater instead of the usual blouse. To put in bluntly, it accentuated her breasts. And she was a lot breastier than I'd previously given her credit for. I wasn't the only one to notice. I'd gone out for some more boxfiles and other stationary supplies, and heard somebody say to another "Did you see Carol today! Is she changing her image, or something?" There were no more ladder jokes between us today, but she was up the ladder a lot as we moved a stash of stuff that had to be archived. I could hardly take my eyes off her breasts. She'd removed her jacket before long and, as she held her arms up high and concentrated on getting the files in the correct order, I could take in her profile from a range of two or three feet away has I held each file up to her from below. Her bra was outlined in the stretchy wool, and strained to contain such heavy globes. Nothing slutty here, you understand. On a woman of lesser dimensions I wouldn't have thought twice about the particular way she was dressed. It's just that, with someone of her chest size, it wasn't hard to choose clothes that brightened up my day considerably. She must have known I was captivated, but gave no sign of noticing my glazed expression. Sometimes she bent down to put something on a lower shelf, and showed a deep, deep cleavage down the v-neck of that top. I was entranced. Should I make any mention of this new state of affairs, or should I not? I decided it was a trend that ought to be encouraged. "That sweater looks good on you." "What, this old thing?" she answered nonchalantly. Then there was another accident. Or "accident"? If it was faked, then it wasn't faked by me. Stepping down off the ladder with her back to me, she missed her footing and stumbled backwards on a collision course. I could have jumped out of the way, but then she'd have slammed into the shelving, so I stood and caught her - again. In so doing, I managed some faking of my own. I managed to have one hand land across her chest, and the other on her hip. My hand was pressed against the under-hang of one breast, with my thumb close to its nipple. This feels pretty good, I thought, and down in my groin, pressed hard up against her buttocks, something started twitching. Though expecting a telling-off at any moment, I decided to get bold. My thumb found her nipple and started teasing it through her bra. There was no sign of panic. Carol remained leaning into me, her eyes closed and breathing evenly. Give me an inch, and I'll take a mile. I cupped her breasts with both hands, testing their weight and brushing my thumbs over her nipples. I slumped down so that my lips could find an earlobe and start nibbling it, and so the tip of the tent-pole in my trousers could nestle at the tops of her thighs. She remained in a trance-like state. Carol felt good, so soft and pliant, and the situation was getting better by the minute. I yanked up her top, pulled down the cups of her lacy bra, and her heavy boobs just popped out. Now that they were hanging over her bra, I could get my hands onto an abundance of soft warm flesh and easily find turgid nipples to tug upon. I kissed my way down across her cheek and she slowly turned her head around until our mouths could connect. Her lips parted to accept my probing tongue, and her own twirled against it. I began to grind my prick harder against her butt, and she met these warmup-thrusts by pushing back against me. Things happened fast after that. I wanted to have her there and then, possess her totally, not even wait to get her clothes off. Releasing her boobs, I fumbled with my fly and got my pants down far enough for my cock to spring free. I hiked up the back of her skirt and, while she braced herself against the bookshelves opposite, I whisked her panties down to her knees. Then I was buried up to the hilt in molten slickness, my desperate thrusts cushioned by the two sweetest pillows it'd ever been my pleasure to part. I held her hanging breasts for a time and enjoyed the feeling of having my hands so full. But my butt wanted to go like a buzz-saw and I needed more grip on her. I grabbed her by the hips and found it allowed me to thrust harder. Luckily she was well braced, because my cock was practically lifting her off the ground. She started squeezing me internally, and it was this that tripped my trigger. That familiar salty, tickling sensation in my prick heralded the onset of frantic, spastic jerks, and then I was spurting my stuff into her. I stopped to catch my breath and clutched her hanging breasts again, my cock still inside but gradually retreating. I popped out of her as she straightened up and turned round. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me full and slow, our lips melting together. Her skirt had fallen back into place, but her bare boobs still spilled over the top of her bra. Pushing me away, she commanded "On your knees!" What's up? I wondered. Do I get a knighthood for this? But she lifted her skirt up to expose her bush, with panties still down around her knees. I took the hint, and believe me, it was no problem. Laying a hand on each soft buttock, I pulled her to my face and gently kissed the sparse black curls on her mound, licking my way down her cleft and, with one of her feet up on a rung of the stepladder, I could press my face into her moist entrance. I lapped and supped at her, kissing her full on her other lips as my nose tickled her bud. My fingertips caught the stickiness that was seeping out and spread it out over silky inner-thighs. She gasped several times, with long pauses in between, and I could feel her body quiver. Then her thighs closed to push my face back out of her tender spots. I stood and, without speaking, we straightened up our clothing and both headed off to a Ladies and a Gents to clean ourselves up again. Me, specifically, to wash the pussy smell off my face. Not that I am averse to it or anything, but out of consideration for anyone who might pass within two yards of me. We managed to get about another hour and a half of work done, talking small-talk and trying to focus on the task at hand. But she had this soft, fuzzy, "fucked- duck" look about her, and her boobs were still so painfully obvious in that tight top, and as soon as I thought my cock was ready, I just took her again. Grabbed her from behind and eased her forward, cupping those magnificent breasts and bumping her rear with my groin until we'd arrived in the most private spot in the Archives suite. This time I spread clean sheets of flipboard paper on the floor at the end of a row of shelves, took her panties right off, and got her top and most of her bra out of the way of those perfect, luscious breasts. I covered her in kisses from her face to her chest to her thighs while she lay with legs open waiting to receive me. Her boobs had big nipples - berry-like teats set in large dark- brown circles - so different from the delicate coral-pink buds I'd so far come across. Carol remained passive as I mounted and eased myself inside, and I began leisurely strokes that gradually quickened in pace and intensity until she brought her legs up, to change the angle and get me bumping right against her sweet spot. I came without drama, just began squirting without even changing pace. If she came at all this time around, she was pretty quiet about it. We got dressed again, and this time stayed dressed. We didn't speak of anything much at all until hometime, but she patted the front of my trousers and shot me a knowing look before heading for the elevator. I went home with a silly grin on my face. Fay was "in the mood" that night, but to be honest, my prick hurt. I pleaded that I had a groin injury from playing squash, so couldn't screw. I went down on her instead, but my heart wasn't in it and it took her a while to come. She said "I hope your leg gets better real soon ..." and drifted off to sleep. I couldn't wait to get to work, and start manhandling Carol again. She was dressed a bit more sexily, not outrageously so, but in a shorter skirt and a tight cotton top through which her bra was visible. And she had real stockings on ... But she had gone all cold on me again. When I tried to embrace and kiss her she pushed me away and said "No. I'm feeling really guilty right now. I've betrayed my husband, and it's hard for me to deal with. Lets just cool it ...". This was torture. She'd keep bending in front of me to get stuff, and I'd see those stockings go up, up, up under that skirt, and I could see the garter straps and some creamy thigh, but if I put my hand on her butt she'd slap it away and say "I told you, "No!"" And her top was low-cut so I could see how her bust welled up and quaked as she moved, and her lacy bra left little to the imagination. It was driving me crazy. I had to spend some time back in the main administration area because Brad called me for a progress report on the Archive project. When he'd finished, he said conspiratorially "Carol's looking good these days. Have you noticed?" I just nodded, but didn't say anything. Well, nothing happened that day. Carol stayed thoroughly professional at all times, and I gave up trying to seduce her. Her dress sense was giving other signals, though. Next time she arrived for work, she had a dress of soft, clingy material. Viewed from the rear, one could see panty lines that were fairly high-cut. Her bare legs were shapely, and there was a moderate amount of cleavage on display. As I came into work, the lift operator said "Wait till you see Carol today. She looks like she's off to a party someplace!" This of a woman who two weeks ago hardly anyone was giving a second glance! When we were alone in the Archive room, I tried to hug her. She said a firm "No!", and pushed me away. She began work, but I just looked her up and down. Her bra showed the bumps of her nipples through the fabric of that clinging dress, which looked like it was moulded to her. It showed that she had a bit of a tummy roll and broad hips, but this just made her even curvier, sexier, like the voluptuous nude women those mediaeval artists used to paint. I couldn't stand it. I ached to have her again. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I unzipped my fly, pulled out my prick, coaxed it up to full hardness while ogling her tits, and started masturbating in front of her. She stopped working and looked at me, stunned. "What are you doing?!!?" "You look so fuckable. I want to fuck you again." She watched me beating away furiously for a few moments. "Do you really want me so bad?" "Yes" "A woman who could be your mother?" "Yes" "So bad, even though you've got a sexy young girlfriend?" "I haven't screwed her for days." She looked at my vigorous stroking some more, then came over to me. She knelt down, took my cock out of my hands and sucked it into her mouth. Well, hello! It was obvious she'd done this before. She applied just the right friction, and tickled my balls, and looked up soulfully with dark eyes as my cock stretched her lips and engorged her cheeks, and she kept her teeth well out of the way, and made little "Mmmmmm!" noises, until I hit the point of no return. Some semen slipped out the corner of her mouth and dribbled down her chin, but its forceful arrival didn't faze her and she kept up the suction until the last drop had been extracted. Then she stood up, pulled by face down to hers, and kissed me full on the lips. We shared my load until it had all been swallowed. Then she hiked up her skirt and sat up on the table, laying back with her legs open. Her panties decorated rather than concealed her curly bush, and I soon got my face down there to nuzzle them aside. Gripping the sides of her buttocks, I licked and nibbled all over her gash, kissing and sucking, tasting and tongue-fucking, until finally I was done teasing and settled into a steady tempo on her stiff little bud. Her hips bucked and thrust up against my face, and I had to hold on tight to stay on the right spot. She was silent but violent when she came. Again we visited respective bathrooms, and after that we actually got a fair amount of work done that day. Little was being said, and I suppose little needed to be said. Obviously she'd changed her mind about me in some way, but I didn't want to question in case she changed it back again. My theory was she'd either decided that she liked me after all ... or still disliked me but found I could give her something her husband couldn't. As we worked, I would occasionally squeeze her arm or rub her butt, and she might give my cock a squeeze, until finally, half an hour before home time, we spread sheets of paper between the shelves, completely disrobed, and fucked like bunnies. She finished me by getting on top, grinding her hips against me. I had fun trying to catch her big nipples in my mouth as her bosom heaved and swayed above me. Then she started squeezing my prick with her internal muscles to complete her total de-spunking of me. Fay was disappointed to learn that my groin injury was no better. After the distracted way in which I finally brought her to orgasm, she was probably now entertaining thoughts of buying a vibrator. The library project came to an end a day or so later. It was behind schedule because we'd been fucking each other so much, and I got criticised by Brad. "What the hell have you guys been doing down there?" he wanted to know. "Don't ask!" I replied. Carol was back in her section again, and I was based at the other end of the building. The loss of intimacy was more than I could stand. Any excuse at all, I'd go on errands to Carol's end of the office, to check out what she was wearing that day, and find if there was any chance of being alone with her. She'd play it cool, but was lapping up the attention and was now dressing to thrill. Today she had a black silk blouse, a short red skirt, and high-heels. She was already up out of her desk when I came along, and was sashaying away down the corridor. I followed her, and saw her go into the stationary stockroom. I went in after her, closed the door, and locked it. She spun around at the sound of the door closing, then stood there looking at me. Without a word, she began slowly unbuttoning her blouse. I unzipped and got my cock ready as more and more cleavage, then black lacy bra, then tummy came into view. She bent down and removed her panties from under that short skirt. I stepped up to her and hastily pulled down her bra cups until each boob spilled free. Then I was devouring them, covering as much of them with my tongue as possible, manhandling her nipples, thrusting my fingers up between her thighs, smoothing the soft flesh in the space below her entrance. I cupped her fluffy mound, testing the entrance with a fingertip and finding it soft and wet. I lifted her up onto a table, got in position, and entered her swiftly and desperately. Her insides felt as good as ever, gripping me and sucking me inward, clamping with her muscles, while she locked her legs around my back and hung on for the ride. It didn't take long, and I left her very messy down there. Then I zipped up and strode out without a backward glance. Fay was beginning to suspect something. "Are you seeing another woman?" she wanted to know. "No! Why?" "Well, you're not the same anymore. You don't seem to find me sexy." "I do! I do!", and I hugged her to prove it. We tried to make love, but my prick was still sore from fucking Carol twice that day, once in the stockroom and again in the Law Partners Private Bathroom, and I ended up fingering Fay to a climax. I knew she preferred cocks to fingers any day of the week. Carol also seemed to like cocks. Well, my cock, anyway. As long as I could get her anyplace alone, she was mine for the taking. Today, just to be different, I tried her asshole. I bent her over the table, parted her bottom cheeks and used some saliva to make things a bit slippery. It was tight getting my cock in, and she grunted a bit as the head wedged its way past her ring-piece. I didn't know if she'd done this before and I didn't ask, but she permitted it and things relaxed a tad once I was in. It felt different, and for me a change was as good as a holiday, but I didn't think that she got very much out of it at all. I withdrew without coming, and masturbated until I could shoot all over her broad bottom. Then I left her to clean herself up, all the while hating myself for wanting her so badly. I was getting addicted, and fast losing control of the situation. We were screwing each other at least twice a day. It was always me that chased after her, but I knew she was ready and waiting for it. If I willed myself to hold back though, she'd provoke me with flashes of cleavage or thigh, until I abandoned whatever I was doing and took her with me to the nearest secluded spot.. Meanwhile, Fay was giving me a hard time at home about not paying her enough attention anymore. Brad was giving me a hard time about hardly ever being at my desk, and not getting though my work fast enough. Carol's co-workers were giving me a hard time about lurking in their section, and were gossiping about us. My law professors were giving me a hard time about missed assignments. It was going from bad to worse. I accosted Carol on the ground floor outside the lift, as she was heading home from work. "Carol, this is too much. We've got to finish it!" "Well, you started it, loverboy!" "I know, but I'm a wreck. My life is falling apart. I can't handle it any more" "Okay, I'll stay away from you. But the question is - can you stay away from me?" "What do you mean?" "It'll be over if YOU can end it. But you can't. You can't stop fucking me. You'll keep coming back for more. And as long as you do, it will continue ..." "Oh, shit ... Carol, please!"" I followed her as she turned into a big department store. She walked to the ladies fashion section, selected an outfit, and went to a changing booth. I trailed along after like a dog following a bitch on heat. "Just check out how this looks on me, honey?" she said to me loudly for the benefit of the sales assistants, and then we were inside, ripping off panties, unzipping flies, parting thighs, and humping and bumping to record-time climaxes. We managed to get out of the store without being arrested, and went our separate ways. It was the same the next day. She had to run an errand to my section, and bent over the desk of the person she was delivering the papers to. From where I was sitting I could see right up her thighs and almost see her butt cheeks peeping out from under that short dress. As she walked away, I got up and followed. We went out onto the emergency stairwell. No one used these stairs unless the lift wasn't working, but it's windows looked out onto another office block and people could see us. We didn't care. We didn't uncover much flesh, just enough to find the right orifice, but it was obvious to any casual observer that meat was in motion and body fluids were being exchanged. When we finished, we looked out and saw that about half a dozen people at a window were putting their hands together in applause. I was now very close to getting myself fired. I was constantly distracted from my work, with visions of Carol always flooding into my thoughts. At home, Fay and I were hardly talking to each other. I was seriously in lust, and it couldn't continue. Something had to give. It all finally came to a head when Carol turned up at my apartment one Saturday. Luckily Fay had just gone out to the convenience store, and meanwhile Carol stood there in the hallway dressed in cut-off shorts, a halter top with no bra, and "come-fuck-me" leather boots. A vision of bare brown skin and dangerous curves. I gawped. I never expected her to come around here. And I certainly didn't know she went in public dressed like that. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?" She pulled aside the cups of the halter top and her boobs spilled out. Right there in my hallway, just like that. She cupped her breasts with her hands and offered them up to me, big teats pointing right at my face, dark circles like inviting targets. "Shit! Get inside before someone sees you!" "My pleasure." Carol had so little on, that it was the work of a moment to get it all off. I was still in the process of impaling her upon my prick on the living-room floor when Fay walked in on us. Carol quickly got dressed, as cool as a cucumber, and walked out of the apartment without saying a word. Fay said plenty, most of it unprintable even in a story of this nature. She packed up all her stuff, called a friend to come help her move it, and then she too walked out of the apartment. I didn't expect that she'd ever be back. At work on Monday, I went to see Carol at her desk. I hadn't slept for two whole nights. She was not inclined to talk, and I couldn't get her to leave her desk without making a scene. I waited on the street for her after work. I fell in step beside her and pleaded "Carol! I've got to see you!" "No" she replied, "This time, it really is over". "But ... I need you!" She looked at me with pity, and a little bit of scorn. "Look, I was angry with you at first. But then I enjoyed your attention. I was very flattered that you'd find an older woman like me so attractive. And the sex was great ... it's never been as good as that with my boring husband ..." "Then why is it over?" "Well, the biggest thrill was finding I could steal you away from your young girlfriend. That's what made the sex so great, knowing I was taking you away from her ... that you'd rather be fucking me than her ... but now the stealing's been done, and for me the thrill just isn't there anymore. "And since I started dressing up for you, other men have been noticing me. I'm a hot property now ... and that handsome young guy in Accounts has asked me out on a date tomorrow night ... and guess what? "I happen to know he has a beautiful young wife ..."

<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN"> <HTML> <HEAD> <META HTTP-EQUIV="CONTENT-TYPE" CONTENT="text/html; charset=utf-8"> <TITLE></TITLE> <META NAME="GENERATOR" CONTENT="OpenOffice.org 3.0 (Linux)"> <META NAME="CREATED" CONTENT="20090802;19510100"> <META NAME="CHANGED" CONTENT="20090802;20073200"> <META NAME="Info 1" CONTENT=""> <META NAME="Info 2" CONTENT=""> <META NAME="Info 3" CONTENT=""> <META NAME="Info 4" CONTENT=""> </HEAD> <BODY LANG="en-US" DIR="LTR"> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Predatory Mothers</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">by Ironbuddah</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Chapter 4: Keys for the Door</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Ariel looked at her watch. She was cursing her uncontrollable horniness. She had showered, but fingered herself into so many orgasms afterwards that she had needed to take a second one. She really wanted to get replacement keys before Joseph returned home from school, and was going to be cutting it close now.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Cinching the drawstring of her son's old gym shorts around the narrowest part of her waist, she regarded herself in the mirror. She decided to loose the shorts a bit so they rode a bit lower on her hips and fully exposed her navel. She decided that she liked this look, and would have to bare her midriff more often, especially for her son.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Sighing, she turned her attention to the stretched out tank top. It was, at best, a disaster that should have long ago pitched in the trash. The scratchy material was causing her nipples to harden and swell making it more difficult to cover her decently. Even now, one perky nipple was fully exposed. She tugged and rearranged and was able to finally get everything covered, well mostly covered. With her nipples all swollen and excited, crescents of pink flesh were visible on either side of the straps. Even if that could be called decent, the slightest movement was enough to cause one or both nipples to pop free. More energetic movements were enough to produce full boob slips.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Abandoning that idea as unworkable, Ariel pulled the shirt up and then tied a knot at her back. That was better, but the shirt was still sliding around too much as she moved. Really stretching the shirt out and pulling it tight when knotting it behind her finally seemed to do the trick. She had about two inches of under-cleavage showing, and her hard nipples were clearly outlined under the worn out cloth. However, she was at least fairly certain that she met the legal demands for proper clothing when going out in public. After heading down to the kitchen, Ariel put on her high heels, grabbed a spare set of car keys, and headed out the door.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Excuse me sir, can you help me?” Ariel asked a middle aged, somewhat pot-bellied man who was stocking boxes in the hardware section.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Catching sight of Ariel in her barely decent clothing caused the man to cry out “Holy shit!” and drop a five pound box of nails to the ground. The box split making a mess in the floor. Leering at Ariel all the while, he bent down to try to put the spilled nails back in the box. However, he was so distracted that he was just picking up handfuls of nails and dropping them back onto the floor.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“I said, can you help me?” Ariel asked again. Normally, she would have thought the man's stunned reaction to her body was cute, but she was in too much of a hurry today.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Uh...What?” The man mumbled while still absentmindedly scattering nails around in a vain effort to clean up his mess. “Oh, help. Of course that's what we're here for.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“I need replacement keys for interior doors. You know, the kind that aren't really keys, they just need to be long enough to reach the mechanism and flat enough to turn it. Skinny screwdrivers would work too. Am I in the right place?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Um, yeah, pretty much.” The awestruck employee drooled. “They're one aisle over.” The man looked glum at the prospect of not having the beautiful customer to stare at any longer. Suddenly, his face brightened. Taking Ariel's hand, he added. “Here, I'll show you.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Walking Ariel to the next aisle, he pointed out the keys she needed. “The keys are here, but if it's screwdrivers you want, they're down at the end of this aisle.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“No, these keys will do fine. I was wondering if you could do me a favor though. See, the reason I need the keys is that my son locked my purse in my bedroom.” Lifting the poor employee's hand to her lips, she kissed the back of his hand. “I can't pay for the keys until I get my purse, and I can't get to my purse without the keys. I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor and buy a few of these keys for me so I could get back into my room. I really shouldn't have even driven over here since I don't have my ID on me.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Leaning back to blatantly check out Ariel's ass before answering, the man groaned, “I'm sorry miss, there is a strict policy against any of the workers buying goods for the customers.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Oh I see.” Ariel said frowning. The man wasn't much to look at, but Ariel was still very horny. His lewd stare was starting to make her blood hot. “Well, in that case, could you show me to the restrooms?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Still holding her hand, the man guided Ariel to the back of the store. “Here they are pretty lady. Wait! That's the men's restroom!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“I know!” Ariel growled, dragging the man behind her.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Helpless to stop her, the worker protested. “You can't be in here! I'll get fired if we're caught!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Shoving the confused man into a stall, Ariel purred, “I'm worth it.” The man's eyes went wide as he stumbled backwards, half falling and ending up sitting on the toilet seat. Ariel quickly undid the man's belt and fly, pulling his hard cock out of his boxers. Having become used to her son's generous endowment, she frowned briefly upon seeing the man's average sized cock. “Oh well, any port in a storm.” she commented while undoing the drawstring at her waist and allowing the old gym shorts to fall to the floor.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Your ass looked so good I was sure you had a thong on. I never dreamed you were going commando. I've died and gone to heaven!” The man exclaimed while staring into Ariel's bush and pussy. </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Stepping out of the discarded shorts, Ariel corrected him. “Not yet, you haven't.” She informed the man as she mounted him.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Opening the door to the counselor's office after school. Joseph was treated to the site of Dana's bubble butt as she was leaning over looking at some papers on her desk. “Hot damn!” The horny teen admired.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Lock the door behind you Joseph.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Yes ma'am!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Without turning around to face him, Dana asked. “Was our morning session helpful in controlling your extreme horniness for your mother?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Yes and no.” Joseph answered excitedly. “I wasn't thinking about my mother, but I got so excited thinking about you that I don't remember a single word one of my teachers said today in class.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Oh dear!” The unscrupulous counselor said with mock concern. “Earlier today, you expressed an interest in bending me over my desk. It sounds like I would be terribly remiss if I let you leave my office before you satisfied that desire. Otherwise you might be tempted to bend your mother over once you reach home.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Bouncing up and down in the lap of the Home Depot worker, Ariel cried out. “Yes! It's been so long since I've felt a cock in my pussy. Oh! It's feels so good to be fucking again.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Damn lady! You could have any man you wanted just by snapping your fingers. How long a dry spell could you possibly have had?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Oh, it's awful, it's been at least sixteen or seventeen hours now!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Damn! You're some kind of nympho, aren't you?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“I guess you could say that.” Ariel panted. She was doing all the work as she bounced up and down in the older man's lap. “You're not complaining, are you?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Fuck no! I can't remember the last time I was this hard.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Grunting now, Ariel complemented him. “You're doing better than I expected! Huff, huff! You were staring at me like an idiot in the store. I was worried you were going to jizz your pants. I might actually get off twice in your lap!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“You're an angel!” The lucky man groaned. Reaching behind Ariel, he undid the knot in her tank top. Instantly both her breasts bounced free and started slapping the man in the face.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Ohh! Now I've died and gone to heaven! When I came into work today, I never expected to have someone slapping an expensive fake rack in my face!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Oh, those are real!” Ariel giggled.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Making a strangled noise, the employee's cock instantly started spewing into Ariel's belly when she informed him her breasts were natural. “Ut-oh, I'd better hurry!” Ariel cooed. She rode the man hard, getting off a second time just as his cock started to deflate.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Wordlessly, the man held Ariel in his lap as she caught her breath. “Man that was quite a workout. Now, after that, you can surely get those keys for me. I think about a dozen should do. My son is full of mischief, and I think it would be best if I had lots of spares.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“I, I don't know.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Oh dear. I tried to be polite about this, but you're not leaving me much choice.” Ariel pouted. “I'd hate to have to tell a manager about this little bathroom indecent!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“You little bitch!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Patting the man on the chest as she stood up Ariel added. “And throw in three or four of those little screwdrivers for good measure.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Just as his mother was finishing her cowgirl session in the stall of a Home Depot bathroom, her son was asking for one. “Bending you over your desk was awesome Dana, but I think it's time you taught me more about cowgirl style.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Are you already to go again? Did you even get soft after banging me on my desk? I was so worried about making sure you wouldn't tell anyone about what we were doing, I just assumed that you started to get soft, and I jacked you back up again earlier this morning. Did you stay hard that whole time?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Yeah, I almost always have to cum twice before I can get soft.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Wow that is a dream come true for any sort of cock lover! You're going to have to be very careful to make sure you never use this big tool of yours on your mother. Sit down in that chair, and let me show you how excited getting double fucked makes a woman.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Oh Dana! Thank you so much for helping me with my problems with Mommy! I'll do my best to make sure you stay so excited that you'll keep helping me again and again.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“There you go, twelve interior keys and four little screwdrivers.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“See, that wasn't so bad. I bet the person who checked you out didn't even ask why you wanted so many keys.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“No. Sorry I called you a bitch.” Looking hopefully at the gorgeous woman in the ratty old gym clothes, the Home Depot asked, “Um, is there maybe something I could help you out with around your house?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“I don't know, how long does it take your batteries to recharge?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Um, usually about four hours, but you're so hot I bet you could have me going again in three.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Sorry, no offense, but it's not like I want to hang out with you if your dick's not hard.” Patting the man on his gut. “Besides, you need to do something about this. You've got good stamina once you get it up. But as horny as I was, I should have been able to have four or five orgasms easily if I wasn't fighting with your spare tire to get your cock all the way inside me. To be honest, I'm hoping that I'm not going to need to make another trip out here; that's why I got so many keys. Just remember, we'll always have our time in the bathroom stall together.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Oh Joseph, that was awesome, you came so much in me both times. I'm so glad you knocked on my door this morning. Oh, see how I'm just gushing about how good sex is with you. That's what would happen with your mother if your willpower ever cracks.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Joseph gulped. “That's scary. Do you have time for me to rest up so we can do this again? I'd like to try doing it with you sitting on your desk facing me.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“How much time do you need?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Um, like ten to fifteen minutes. Probably a lot less if you suck on me while we wait.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Running her hands over her lush body and licking her lips, Dana dropped to her knees. “Oh yeah, I've certainly got time for that.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Ariel was at first glad that she had beaten her son home. She quickly unlocked the door to her room, then hid keys and screwdrivers in various places around the house. She was a little surprised that Joseph wasn't home yet, but took that as an opportunity to pick out something to wear to try to seduce her son again. She would love to just run naked into his arms, but he actually seemed to offer less resistance if she were clothed when he first laid eyes on her. </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">She had her entire closed to pick from, and eventually settled on a string bikini. She thought that offered a good compromise between showing him enough to make his cock hard and keeping her naughty bits covered long enough that he wouldn't run away from her. “Where is he?” Ariel moaned. She plopped into her bed, and started fingering herself while she waited for her son to arrive. She smiled wickedly when she thought about how she had left Joseph's door locked. That would give her the perfect opportunity to ambush the boy and let her body overwhelm him before guilt could get in the way.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Joseph came home with a huge smile on his face. He had cum once in the guidance counselor's mouth, and five times in her pussy. He couldn't remember the last time he had been at home without feeling dread that he was going to get turned on by his mother's body. He was sure Dana had cured him, and that he would never lust after his slut of a mother again. Then he tried to open the door of his room and was unable. “Ah, crap! How could I have forgotten about this?” He stood there shaking the door and rattling the knob until he felt soft arms wrap around his neck and big boobs pressing into his back.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Damn it wench! Get off of me. I'm not the least bit interested in fucking you.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Liar!” The desperate mother whispered in her son's ear. She slid off her son's back, and grabbed his cock through his pants. She was shocked to find it soft! “What the...”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“I said get off of me!” Joseph snarled, spinning to face his mother. “I see you didn't do anything about my locked door!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Oh, I've got a key.” Ariel smiled as she reached into her bikini top to produce the key she promised. She very nearly bared one of her tits in the process, and Joseph's calm confidence began to crack. First, his mental image of Dana turned blond. Once her image in his mind's eye was a brunette again, her giant fake jugs, shrunk a bit and softened into his mother's natural ones.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Joseph tried to push past his mother, but she arched her back, pressing her tits into his chest. Joesph slunk back against the door. He felt his cock growing hard, and he realized he was trapped. Any attempt to escape would subject him to unbearable temptation from his mother.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Now, we need to discuss what your punishment is for locking me out of my room. I think some nice, hot Mommy sex would be a good start. I had sex in the bathroom of Home Depot to get this key. The guy tried his best, but he didn't have anywhere near the cock you do.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“You had sex in a public bathroom? Weren't you afraid of getting caught?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Well if you would bang your mother, like a good boy, instead of sneaking out of the house I wouldn't have needed to do that. Besides, it's not like I was leaning up against the wall. We used a stall.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“You had sex in a stall? That's disgusting.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“It can be, but I sat in his lap cowgirl style. He was the only one who had to sit on a nasty public toilet.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">That was the worst thing for Joseph his mother could have possibly said. “Co, cow, cowgirl style?” He couldn't help himself. He grabbed his mother's bikini covered ass. His mind was filled with images of his mother sitting in his lap, facing him and bouncing up and down. He knew he had to act quickly unless he wanted to be acting on those urges. Squeezing his mother's girlish ass, he attempted to bargain. “OK Mommy. I'll do it. I'll have sex with you; I'll even do it in your bed again if you unlock my door first.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Jumping up into her son's strong arms, Ariel whispered into her son's ear. “Carry me to my bed.” Unable to speak, Joseph nodded. Ariel fiddled with the lock awkwardly as Joseph held her, but she was eventually able to turn the knob of the door to demonstrate she had lived up to her end of the bargain.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Joseph carried his mother back to her room. She was kissing all over his face and neck. He was trying not to get too excited by her slobbery kisses, but he didn't want to clue her into the fact that he was still resisting her. When he dumped his mother on her bed, she pulled her bikini bottoms off saying, “Now give Mommy the big dick she needs.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Instead of obeying, Joseph fled back to his room.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Oh, you lousy son of a bitch! How can you lie to your own mother like that?”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Joseph's door slammed, and Ariel heard him shout through the door. “I think it's OK to lie when it means that you won't be fucking your mother!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Silly boy! I've still got the key.” Ariel unlocked the door once again, and turned the handle triumphantly. Her triumph was short lived when the door moved about half an inch and stopped with a thud. “What have you done?” Ariel wailed.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Joseph's headboard started thumping against the wall. “I jammed the chair from my desk under the doorknob.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> “Oh! I hate you! What did I ever do to deserve such a spiteful child?” Ariel started to moan as she began fingering herself to the sound of her son masturbating. Joseph moaned louder too as he heard his mother pleasuring herself. The frustrated mother and son both masturbated violently and repeatedly. No matter how many times his mother asked why he would rather jack off than fuck her, he never opened the door. Eventually, they both fell asleep, unsatisfied and hungry from missing another meal.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“It's a good thing I stayed extra yesterday Dana, I was barely able to resist my mother long enough to trick her, then jam a chair under my door so she couldn't get to me anymore.” Joseph, had his counselor's head cradled against his shoulder as she bounced up and down in his lap. “Then, this morning, I had to step over my naked mother, who had passed out in the hall, just to leave my room.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Mmmm, that's good news.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Huh, that doesn't make any sense. You're supposed to keep me from fucking her.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Right, by letting you fuck me. I can't get enough of your cock. As long as your mother is still trying to seduce you, you'll be giving it to me as often as you can to relieve your desire for older, busty women. In fact, since you said your mother was so aggressive yesterday, let me give you a hall pass so you can come see me during your study hall. That should help you make sure that your willpower will be at full strength when you head home from my office later this afternoon.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Oh shit! Just the idea of getting to spend more time with you behind a locked door is making me cum!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Yes! Give it to me. Oh, it feels like a big one. You must have stored up a lot of jizz overnight.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">At the end of hist World History class, Joseph looked down at his notebook. Instead of being full of notes, the pages were full of things like: “Must not fuck Mommy; must fuck Dana!”, “I love Dana's big fake rack!”, and “Dana has the best ass, EVER!”.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Looking at his useless notes, Joseph said to himself. “Fuck! I'm glad Dana gave me that hall pass. I've got her body on my mind just like I did yesterday. I'm going to fail half my classes if I can't get over daydreaming about sex!”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">When Joseph returned home, he was much more cautious about entering the house. He had also made sure to pick up some fast food before he returned home. When he peeked in the living room window, he could see one of his mother's legs over the back of the couch, and he could see several dildos and vibrators scattered on the floor. He could see bouncing tits on the TV screen as well. From the looks of things, his mother had made a porn run, and had strained the credit card with her purchases.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">He had so much sex with Dana at school, that he didn't expect spying on his mother to affect him at all. But he was suddenly sweating and rapidly becoming very hard. He found he was having trouble breathing as well. “Fuck! What's wrong with me? I shouldn't be reacting this way. I've got to get inside and jam my door again before I do something stupid.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Joseph opened the back door as quietly as he could. His cock was screaming for relief inside his pants as he listened to moans from both his mother and the TV. It was almost more than he could bear. He made a break for it when he heard her start to cum.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">“Is that you Joseph! Ugh! You've got to help your poor mother. I bought two dozen sex toys, but none of them satisfy me like your giant dick does. Don't be so greedy, share it with Mommy. Ugh! Cumming, cumming, but it doesn't make my horniness go away!” Joseph was shocked by the number and variety of toys on the coffee table as he dashed past his climaxing mother. The ones he could see from the window must have been particularly unsatisfying to have been discarded in that way. </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Ariel didn't bother even trying to chase her son when she heard his door shut. “That little bastard. He timed it so I'd be cumming when he ran past me. Fuck! I'm going to go insane if I don't get a big dick back inside me soon.” Then she heard the familiar thumping of her son's headboard, and her pussy spasmed violently with need. She grabbed the biggest dildo within reach, and jammed it into her pussy. It didn't really help, but she couldn't keep from working herself over as energetically as she could manage. “Well, tomorrow is Saturday, maybe he won't be able to plan his schedule around resisting me on the weekend.”</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in; border-top: none; border-bottom: 4.50pt double #000000; border-left: none; border-right: none; padding-top: 0in; padding-bottom: 0.03in; padding-left: 0in; padding-right: 0in"> <BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in">Unlike his mother, Joseph had been so out of it at school ever since he first experienced incest, that it didn't even dawn on him that tomorrow was Saturday. He just kept jacking off in his bed, until he finally settled down to sleep at about 2 AM. He was proud of himself when he pictured Dana right before he came, and guilty whenever he couldn't keep his mental image of his mother out of his fantasies. If he had been honest with himself, he was jerking off equally for both women, but he kept telling himself that it was three or four to one in favor of his school counselor.</P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> </BODY> </HTML>