control

Ellen’s room at her mother’s house was finally ready after Ellen had been with Uncle Jim for four weeks, not the two that had been planned. Ellen stayed another two weeks and then came to stay with her mom. She hadn’t found a job yet, so she often was there when one of Mary’s sisters visited for just a few minutes on the way home from shopping or work. Ellen started hinting about some of what Uncle Jim was like with her. She was fishing to see if her mom or her mom’s sisters would open up some. She already had discovered that every one of the family’s women had been with Uncle Jim.



Mary had volunteered to make a hundred and twenty cup cakes for a fourth and fifth grade party. The sisters all gathered at grandma’s massive country kitchen to help and Ellen kept tagging along. Since none of the sisters or her grandmother was forthcoming, she kept telling naughty things about her time with Uncle Jim.



Grandma finally got things moving in a more open vein, “If you invite Ellen to join your every other week get-togethers, she won’t have anything to tell if she keeps telling us about her time with Jim. Are you going to tell her she was set up?”



Ellen looked puzzled, “What get-togethers? What do you mean set-up?”



Mary turned red and was very reluctant to continue. Finally, she got everyone around the big white enameled picnic table that many years ago served as a meal table for the hired hands on the screened in back porch. “Ellen, we sisters get together every two weeks over lunch to catch up on each others’ lives, we are all hoping you will want to join us and become a part of the group as if you are a generation older and our sister. Sounds like you could spice up our conversations.”



“That sounds like a lot of fun; I would love to do that.”



Millie jumped in, “We have to tell her the entire story, even if she hates us; Ellen you can hate me first, I’m the one who thought of it.” Grandma and Mandy both nodded in agreement.



Ellen stared at her mom for answers. Mary started, “Over three months ago, I voiced that I was concerned about you living with me because you were such a vocal militant feminist. I was afraid that my younger kids would pick up on your man hating rhetoric. Millie remembered a game of Truth or Dare we played when she just turned eighteen. The game resulted in all three of us promising to spend a week with Uncle Jim. We set you up to spend a week with him the same way we did. We had no idea what would happen but all of us have had sex with him and we all admit how much we enjoyed our time with him twenty years ago.”



“Well I’ll be damned; my mom set me up to be seduced by my Great Uncle Jim?”



“Did he do all the seducing?”



Ellen blushed and said, “Probably not half of it, after I found out what he could do with my body.”



After the accepting laughter there was no anger at all, Mandy added, “We also thought it would be a fun thing for each of us to take a luncheon and tell the others about our time with Uncle Jim. You are already into telling us all about your stay with him. Keep going, you’ve got us all interested and could get us so turned on we would want to go home and fuck our husbands, but you have to quit being vague about all the details.”



Ellen did not help with the cupcakes, but for the next three hours, she gave graphic details to the three sisters and grandma. All wiggled some to get relief from their tingling crotches. The kitchen smelled of wonderful iced cupcakes and aroused women. Finally, Ellen ended her stories by adding, “You will all probably have similar stories and we’ll get tired of hearing his same old techniques.”



Grandma disagreed, “I haven’t decided to be part of these biweekly porno confessions but I’ve known Jim a lot longer than all of you. Do you know he writes porn? Do you know his wife liked to be tied up, treated rough and have her climaxes denied? Do you know she liked some pain, so he knows a lot about teasing with it, until you cannot tell the difference between pain and pleasure? Do you know he’ll drink your pee, suck your breast milk and can find a way to make any female beg? Do you know he has a large collection of every kind of sex toy and restraint? I bet none of you will have the same stories?”



Ellen knew a few of those things but all the other new information had taken her breath away. Her Aunts and mother were not breathing either. Her mom’s hands were busy in her lap and she had a dark, wet stain between the legs of her slacks and her eyes hinted of some hidden dark secret. Mary’s voice was raspy, “Let’s box up these cupcakes. I’ll tell my story next week. Yes, mom, I know about the whips and restraints. I’ll start my story about that, if you finally agree to join our group, at least to listen to my and then Mandy’s confessions.”



The lunch crowd had dissipated at the café. The owner and the manager were getting used to having the sisters gather for lots of wine and occasionally a small salad or two. Today was somewhat a surprise; the usual three person table was too small, there were five.



Conversation was lively while the first and half of the second glass of wine went down and the sisters caught up on school, thrift stores and local gossip. Everyone seemed to turn to Mary all at once. Mary was, at first embarrassed because her daughter was just to her right; then, there was a surge of sexual energy in her, she wanted to tell her daughter about her younger days and that she was still hot, horny and very sexual. She wanted someone other than Uncle Jim to know the secret she held inside.



Mary started, “My first encounter with Uncle Jim was three years before Millie’s Truth or Dare game. It was early in the summer; I had just graduated, was bored and under mom’s feet all day. Uncle Jim came over for dinner one night. (As an aside, Mary leaned toward the center of the table and whispered, “I don’t think he went home that night. We didn’t have a guest room. He didn’t sleep on the couch and mom was smiling in the morning.”) Over dinner, Uncle Jim said, he had plenty of work, if I wanted to work for him for $5.00 an hour, off book. That was good money back then. I jumped at it and started four days later on a Monday.



He took it easy on me for the first week. I worked inside the house. I found his porn stories. I had never imagined some of the things he wrote for Fran but she had requested most of his fantasies. I rubbed my clit raw that week. Uncle Jim could not understand why I had not gotten more done for my $5.00/hour.



Come the next Monday, he had me work with him in the barn. God it was hot. By early afternoon, most of the stalls were spotless and had new straw. I was sweating like a pig and down to my high cut jean shorts and a halter top. Toe to toe, in bare feet, I am almost as tall as Uncle Jim. Back then my large C cup breasts and my wide baby bearing hips flared out from a tiny waist. My face and body glistened with sweat and I had been blatantly teasing him by showing him my ass and sweat drenched pussy. I guess I thought it was safe to tease with my uncle.



I was between him and a fence dividing two stalls when I got my feet tangled in the hay and fell backwards. His sweat drenched, shirtless body caught me. His hands landed atop mine when he drove me against the fence’s rails to keep both of us falling. His chest drove my tube top covered breasts into and then between the slats and his face buried into my hair and neck. I had only been with two boys. This was no boy. His breath, his strength, his confidence, his hardening cock pressing into my ass and the tongue that licked the sweat from my neck attested to that. The entire fall and recovery lasted just seconds, but my pussy throbbed, leaked and tingled.



“Mary, are you all right? Did you get hurt?” He was nervous because of his body’s reaction to me but he was more worried about me being hurt.



We worked for another couple of hours. Several times we took water breaks; he held the hose over his head and let the water drench every inch of his body before he drank. I did the same and watched him drip dry and his tight jeans mold around his cock. It was beautiful and I thought I could see it throb.



After the second water break, I had to admit my eighteen year old body wanted my forty year old uncle. Mercilessly, I flaunted my ass and thrust out my breasts for him. I enjoyed his discomfort. He would turn away and I would move in front of him so he had to look at me. God it was hot in that barn.



He moved away to work in the tack room, I came up behind him and my hips pressed forward to grind into his tight ass, I asked, “What are you doing in here?” He was holding a thin, short rope with a loop on both ends. My last word did not pass my lips before he slipped one noose around my crossed hands and onto my wrist. It was so fast I wasn’t shocked and didn’t have time to think. He lifted me and hooked the other noose over a hook about seven feet off the ground.



My feet touched the ground but I was stretched tight with my arms over my head. One breast was almost out of my top. Its nipple was longer and more swollen than ever before – even longer than when I let Billy Owen suck it for an hour.



Those green eyes of his were wild, deep, dangerous and were obviously intent on teaching me a lesson. I was surprised; my body actually ached for his power over me. Gently he reached up, rubbed my nipple, twisted it and stuffed it back into my tube top. His fingers trailed down my taunt body; I tried to twist away. He wedged one of his thighs between my legs to keep me facing toward him. His hot strong rough hand trailed down my skin and he fingered and thrust into my belly button. The implication of fucking me was unmistakable.



His voice was firm and not playful, “You have been teasing me all day. You’re all grown up and beautiful but I am not a young boy. Always know what you are playing with.”



He knelt, reached up and each of his hands went to the front bottom edge of a leg of my Daisy Dukes. His fingers slid up under the short legs and under my panties from each side. They slipped across my wet lips curled and nestled just inside me. They pulled stretching me open.



“Have you had a cock inside you? Did it please you and make you cum? Did it make you scream and pass out in pleasure?”



My heart raced; his fingers were heaven; one from each hand rubbed each side of my wet trapped clit; my eyelids closed, then his hands left me. When I opened them, something dangled down his right side. It had many strips of leather. He took one step to the left. The wind whistled and nine lashes laced across my bare belly. It did not hurt. It startled me and stung. I watched as his hand swept over his head and down. The lashes felt like bee stings on my left ass cheek. I was going to cry out but his hand smoothly swept over our heads in the opposite direction and my right ass cheek was stinging to balance the left.



The feeling was shocking and exciting, I could not open my eyes but I felt him pull down my tube top and his lips close over my right nipple. His mouth licked, kissed, and sucked all at the same time. That pleasure far exceeded my stinging ass. Even with his lips locked onto my nipple, I felt the wind from the lashes and then the sting of them wrapping around my body and biting into my back. His lips moved to my other nipple. I was going to say how wonderful that felt, when that familiar wind circled and lashed my back from the other side. My pussy was now a cunt (all the women cringed). It was flowing. I did not care by whom or by what, I wanted to be fucked.



Instead, he lifted me from the hook and spread me back onto a narrow three foot tall bench. He hooked my hands over my head and tightened loops over my ankles. I was going to scream but his lips closed over mine and sucked the air out of my lungs. I gave him my tongue and I could feel his appreciative mouth tasting me and saying “Thank You.” For long dizzying minutes, he licked the saltiness from my neck and kissed me everywhere from my breasts up.



He bunched my top around my waist during our kiss. The hot air was cool on my even hotter sweaty skin. I knew he opened the top of my shorts and un-buttoned their fly; originally they were 501 jeans. I was still protected. I had my juice soaked, sweaty panties on and my shorts clinging tightly to my spread thighs; they would never slip off with my legs spread and tied.



He twisted a nipple slightly as he stepped past me. Then ice cold steal touched my belly. I heard the blades scrape. I knew them. They were razor sharp hand shears for sheep. One false move and he could open me up better than any surgeon could. Each leg of my shorts opened. Another snip and I felt my tube top lose its tightness. I still felt covered.



That feeling lasted seconds as he yanked the strips of cloth from under me, touched me where he wanted because he could and his lips closed over my clit and sucked. That was my first oral touch. My frightened, turned on, sweaty and on edge body exploded into his mouth and I screamed. I came and kept on coming. I couldn’t stop and was near passing out. I would be coming now, if his lips had not lifted from me.



He untied me, picked me up and carried me into his air conditioned home, into his master bath and bathed me like a queen. I was only half awake but I remember every touch. I remember his fingers inside me and me thrusting for more of them. I remember him spreading me and licking my ass hole. I remember a million deep French kisses laden with the taste of him and I remember him carrying me to a bed, kissing each of my breasts and then turning out the light, before he left. I awoke to the smell of bacon, eggs, toast and coffee. It was light outside. He had left a pair of Fran’s shorts and one of his t-shirts for me. My shoes were still in the tack room.



After a big totally quiet breakfast, again he scooped me up into his arms and carried me to the tack room. He knelt and put my shoes on me and trailed his hands up my calves, across the inside of my knees; my thighs were spread wide; his hand burned into my flesh just below my pussy. The door closed by its on uneven weight. It was pitch dark and stifling. His arms hugged me; his hands possessed my ass cheeks and the back of my head. He rolled my head for his pleasure, used my mouth and sucked wetness from my tongue.



His voice was so beautiful and threatening, “Yesterday, you drove me to want you more than life. I was near taking you, regardless of the cost. Challenge me again, and, my place or not, I’ll show you where pain and pleasure merge; together we’ll teach your body how to fly.”



When I got home, mom took one look at me and said, “You teased your Uncle Jim, didn’t you?”



I nodded. I never spent a day with Uncle Jim again until after Millie’s Truth or Dare game three years later. I waited three weeks, building my courage. I went to him in the cool of the evening. Standing in front of his fireplace, when my eyes met his, it was like we had our encounter yesterday. I was already wet. He said, “A few weeks ago your sister Millie came to me. Are you visiting me for a week now?”



I nodded.



“You are not like your sisters or your mother. How much do you want to know about yourself?”



My answer made sense to me, “I want to get married, have children, be happy and have a normal life.”



“Fran and I wanted that. I would give anything for a son or a daughter but we were meant to share something wilder and more difficult to explain. I still want a son or a daughter. Would you like to risk a glimpse of where Fran and I went once in a while? A place where your body is praying really exists?”



I knew he saw something in me that I did not understand. He smiled and slowly, way, way too slowly, he undressed me in front of the fire. I had prepared for him. I was clean, smelled of expensive soap and had on my finest, sexiest underwear. I was older then. At twenty-one, I was three more years older, I had added a few more men to my experiences. I had felt control over the males I had been with but I trembled in front of my Uncle Jim. Somehow, he commanded me, he owned me and he knew what my body and my soul needed to be complete.



His words were sad, distant and longing for Fran, “I can show you, if you can trust me enough. Can you forget being in control, be free and embrace pure physical pleasure?”



I was quiet. He knew I had no insight to answer those questions.



“The night I held Fran and she died in my arms. I looked at her. She smiled at me and weakly said, “You have already shown me heaven. I’m sorry you have not seen it. There is no pain there. I will be there spread for you. Come to me someday through the spirals. Then, I will be your guide. Do you trust me?”



I had asked her that last question a hundred times. Never had she asked me. I said, “Yes,” to the lifeless body in my arms and have always dreamed of her spread nude and wet, waiting for me.”



Mary’s pause was so long, everyone thought her story was over for today but she had to complete her confession. She was deciding how much to risk. Jim’s words ringing in her mind, answered for her. Her eyes were not in the café. They weren’t focused when she started again, “I married a wonderful man. He gave me Ellen. We had good sex. He made me cum with his hands and mouth. We slept wrapped, satisfied around each other; we worked hard and had a good marriage. I could have been content. I would have stayed with him forever but he died.



Every day, since I was twenty-one, my time with Uncle Jim is with me in fleeting thoughts. His knowledge and control of my body haunts me. I don’t understand. I don’t care to understand, I want to give to him and risk continuing the trip he started me on — a trip into unknown exciting spirals that can only be reached through trust. I’m sure the trip will include all types of wonderful sex but then, for me, will take a step into mixing pain, pleasure, risks and letting the fear out of my body. I know he will protect me and knows where he will be taking me.”



Tears rolled down Mary’s face. “I’m married again to another good man, but I fight hard against what I feel sexually. Someday, I will go to Uncle Jim, trust him and ask him to guide me a little farther.”



Mary’s sisters, her mother and her daughter could not believe what Mary was saying. They did not understand. Mary knew she had to confess what Uncle Jim had awaken in her, things that were deviant and had to be denied every day to keep them at bay, bliss that he had guided her to touch for brief seconds, but bliss that was so great she often thought of risking everything to touch it again. It was infinitely more that what she had experienced in her two marriages.



“For that first night, Uncle Jim made love with me on the floor for two hours. We slept and did it again. Every inch of us was covered with the other. His cock explored in me from twenty positions and he rolled me on top and let me find more parts to explore. He did not lead that night. He did not follow that night. We were equals. I struggled to get through super sensitive times to continue until he could cum deep in me.



I felt I was good for him. I watched him fight and twist and pull out to regain control so I could go on and on. I discovered I can tie climaxes together and can ride a wave through sensitivity into another even better release. When he asked me to straddle his face and cum in his mouth, I came harder than ever before because I was giving him what he had asked from me. After I did that, he could not hug, kiss or love me enough.



At the kitchen table the next morning, after a quiet breakfast, he talked to me, “Mary since you were thirteen you have had to be in control, work, be responsible, delay your fun and help the rest of the family. You worry about forgetting things, causing a problem and maintaining order so everyone else’s life stays together. First I want you to know I have no expectations and am not demanding anything from you.

“You can stop anything at any moment. When you were in the first grade you learned the alphabet. The teachers would tell you something that started with and stood for each letter. What did your teacher want you to say when she asked “A is for ……..”



Mary played along but had no idea where this was going, “A is for apple.”



“That is your safe word, if at any moment you want to stop anything we are doing, say, “Apple.” All will stop. Just be reluctant to say that word too quickly, endure, struggle through, your body will reward you for such sacrifice. Think all day today and decide if you would like to explore a different avenue of your nature. If you do, bathe without soap for me before dinner. Tell me then that you are ready to try. I will never truly hurt you or mark you. At some point, I hope you will totally trust me. I’ll tell you more tonight, if you decide to come to me.”



Jim worked elsewhere that day. I did not see him. He did not want any questions from me. He wanted me to think and decide what I could risk and how much control I could let go of. I always maintained control of myself; it is who I am. Yet, Uncle Jim was saying I had to let it go and only then could he show me my special pleasure. It was a hard, hard decision but eventually, I wanted to know about the often hollow incompleteness I felt after having climaxes with my dates.



During dinner, I told Uncle Jim I wanted to try but was very nervous and afraid. He was ready for my concerns, “Do you remember our play in the barn three years ago?”



I nodded.



“Nothing will happen that is more physical than that tonight. I will probably make love to you and worship your beautiful body. I’m going to strip you and tie you to a bed. I will explain each step, it will not be as easy for you as it sounds but you know your safe word. If tomorrow and the next day you want to try again, what we do will escalate. If you can do what I ask of you, you will understand a lot about your needs by the end of our week and I’ll be so infinitely proud of you and your courage.”



That evening, he led me to a massive hidden third floor. He warned me not to be frightened by what I might see. He asked if I remembered how far we would go that night. He asked if I trusted him and if I knew he would never hurt me, only guide me to where my body asked him to take it.



How simple the first steps sound. He was all dressed in black. His boots were heavy and I could feel him approach me by feeling the vibrations in the floor. He held my nude body and we French kissed for long minutes. His hands roamed very gently and knowingly over every nude inch of me as we kissed. My skin felt alive; I was afraid. My nipples were tingling and my pussy yearned to be open and rubbed more than he had done. My ass wanted to be grabbed and squeezed hard but he had only caressed it gently and trailed a finger between my cheeks and finger nail across my ass hole.



I could barely hear his voice, when he turned from me. The lights were already set so only the bed was in a dim spot light. The rest of the room was only shadows. “Will you let me lay you on your back and tie your beautiful body to the bed?”



My throat was not dry, yet my vocal cords could barely say, “Yes.”



He was so very gentle. His eyes were kind and his smile reassuring. The bed was not near any wall. The sheet was crisp, clean and cool as he helped me lie back and fluffed a pillow for my head. His fingers trailed down my neck across my breast, down my side, over my ovary, past my pussy and firmly down the inside of my thigh, on down to grasp my right ankle. He reached under the bed and pulled out a chain tethered leather cuff and buckled it firmly around my ankle. My heart began to beat harder but I felt the soft fur inside the cuff, there to protect me.



He went back to my head, knelt kissed me and followed the exact trail on my other side to cuff my other ankle. My heart beat harder. I was splayed wide corner to corner on a Queen sized bed. I could feel the lips of my pussy open. Strangely, so early in our play, he asked me, “Are you alright? Do you want to continue?”



“Yes, I want to keep going.”



His smile said he was proud of me. “I am going to put a little collar around your neck.” He showed it to me. It had rings on it, was padded, jangled some, and buckled like my anklets did. “It is to remind you that you are doing this for me and can tell me at any time that you do not want to do any more for me.”



I was still thinking about his words as he cuffed first my left wrist, kissed me again and cuffed my right wrist. He kissed me again, hooked a heavy chain to my collar and draped its two lengths to rest, heavily, harmlessly and cold down my hot body onto my now throbbing, frightened pussy.



He shocked me. I never expected anything like what he did next. He stepped away from the bed, dimmed the spot to almost off and said, “Be very still and quiet. Listen to your heart beat and your breaths.”



The silence was deafening. Seldom had I been in total silence. My heart beat more loudly. It was the only noise I heard except the far away slow background of my own breathing. It seemed for hours upon hours I dealt with my out of control thoughts, racing from fear, to fear; racing from care to care. I did not want to disappoint my Uncle, but alone, I could not stop my raging thoughts.



His voice came from far away. It challenged me, “Mary, you have not realized how helpless you are. Struggle as hard as you want against your bindings. Fight them. Prove me wrong. Prove you are in control. I will protect you.”



At first I tugged at my right hand. The chains rattled on the cuff and moved around my neck and belly. When I couldn’t pull free, I felt a sense of panic and pulled at my left and then both hands at the same time. I tried to pull my legs free and then tried to pull everything at once. I felt more panic and really tried hard, struggling to get free. My mind said, “I’m spread wide and tight, he can do anything to me and I cannot do a thing to stop him.” More panic. I struggled against my unyielding bindings so much I began to sweat and some rolled down into my eyes and burned.



More panic set in and now I really fought. My mind screamed, “I can never trust anyone who would do this to me.” I tried to remember my safe word but couldn’t. The dangling chains between my legs seemed to open my pussy’s lips and their harsh, heavy coldness let me know no part of me was safe. I was getting tired but I could now feel the pain in my chest pounding and hear the chains on my bindings rattle.



As I tried to catch my breath and come to grips with truly being helpless, Uncle Jim’s voice talked to me, “Your wonderful body struggling is beautiful; it is struggling so, I want to come release you. It hurts to feel your panic. Do you want to know more about your needs? Do you want to go on? Do you still want to please me?”



His soothing voice had my heart beating almost back to normal. I still had a lot of fear but I said, “I want to go on.”



“Remember your safe word?”



Oddly, of course, now I remembered my safe word. His question was almost an insult, then I remembered, in my panic filled struggles to get free, I would have called it out, if I could have remembered it.



With gentleness, he knelt behind me, put a blindfold on me and talked, “You have a wonderful mind that is always in control. It will make sex creative and good for your future lovers. But for you, your body needs to be released from thoughts of what you must do for others. Give control of your body away, let it be greedy and then sex can be more than you have ever imagined. You have to turn your thoughts off. Your body is smart too; let it lead. Don’t be afraid. I am here to protect you. Even if just for this one night, risk letting your body lead. Remember the little whip from three years ago?”



Oh, did I remember that whip. My pussy gushed at that moment. I had thought of it often. I wanted to feel it again.



Uncle Jim laid the lashes across my breasts and up across my face. I could smell the rich, clean leather. My hips rolled and my legs flared. The heavy chain nestled against my clit. The thongs lifted, I could feel them being twirled like a Ferris wheel over my belly. The breeze felt good on my sweat drenched skin. Some thongs had little tassels and as he lowered the slowly rotating whip, those flicked across my skin. They explored up between my breasts, turned and then slapped my neck and shoulders.



It was strangely erotic because I knew the whip could be swung faster and lowered so they would sting like bees. They had done that in the barn, three years ago. In slightly varying intensities, the thongs, played around my nipples, along my arms, down my sides and thighs. They stung the bottoms of my feet and tickled my toes and knees. They kissed my belly button and then stung into my right side and then my left. I moaned.



My body did not pull away from the painl; it thrust; my legs opened slightly and my ass lifted; the chain curled down and went under my ass, parting my pussy’s lips even more. When I lowered my hips the chain pulled tight. I moaned.



The tassels now teasingly stung my hips, first one and then the other, back and forth. My hips rolled from side to side to escape the sting and that rocked the chain back and forth over my clit spreading my pussy’s lips wider and trapping my clit between the chain’s heavy rolling rings. I forgot the stings and felt my juices run down the chain.



The many thongs spun faster, the tassels slapped loudly, explored my belly, inside my thighs and began to work up. My skin was becoming numb to them when a slightly harder twirl had them bite into the side of my right breast and a couple stung into my nipple. I cried out but the whip had moved on to lightly whip at my other side. My mind thought, surely that was a mistake and he would not hurt me like that again. But he did, the thongs bit into my left breast. I did not cry out as much.



Uncle Jim’s voice, was soft and pleasant, “You endured that for me. Thank you. I am enjoying and getting excited by watching your body move and learn to enjoy a little playful pain.”



I was pleased with myself. I wanted to please him more. The voice added, “Take all of your thoughts and let them feel each touch on your body. Let every nerve signal its pain or its pleasure. Don’t think about if something hurts or feels good; let your body decide. Let all your feelings race to the same spot.”



The whip twirled faster, slapping and stinging across my belly button, first in one direction and the other. It stung, I was about to complain when, soft loving lips closed over one of my nipples and began to draw circles with its tongue around it and lick across it. The whip was still doing its thing but the lips were more important. I could take the whip lashing my belly for that lovely sucking mouth on my breast.



Over the next hour, the whip was exchanged for some kind of swatter, to a switch, to a single biting lash but on each change, some pleasure balanced the pain – even harsh pain that slapped directly onto my clit; even harsh pain that stung each standing rigid nipple.



For seconds, all stopped and then a heavy cold metal clamp tightened over my right nipple and the heavy chain was connected to the clamp to tug painfully, if I moved. Before I began to breathe again, my other nipple was clamped and chained. Both clamps were tightened at the same time. Tremendous pain shot through me but wonderful warm tender loving lips pushed the chains away from my pussy and began to lick and nurse.



I endured so the lips would not stop. They did not for a long time while my body learned to cope with the pain of the clamps and the tugging chains. Each time I got close to cuming, the lips would stop and the pain in my nipples or a pinch on my belly would slow me. More and more nothing mattered except to get to the deep completing pleasure that I knew was hidden just under the pain.



I sensed that a body knelt on the bed with me; it reached up and touched the clamps. Fingers worked to release them. I expected pleasant relief but when they released there was horrible pain as blood rushed back into my nipples. At the same time a pushing, stretching, filling pleasure consumed me and over rode the pain.



My orgasm started on my clit and rolled inside me. There was more stretching pain, wonderful slippery slides over my clit and soft loving lips kissing me lovingly. Juices flowed into my mouth and I moaned as more pain stretched and my orgasm stalled. Where was the pain? Where was the pleasure? Both ran in my belly, racing back and forth between my clit and my womb. A strong hand grasped the front of my neck and squeezed, another went for a tortured nipple. My nipple cried out when my clit sighed.



My soul needed to see what was happening. It floated to the ceiling and saw Uncle Jim’s back, his hand on my throat, his hand hurting my breast and his hips thrusting smoothly, firmly and slow. My soul told me, “He is pushing his cock into you, stretching you, opening you, trying to reach your womb. It wants to be deep inside your body and hopes to share just a touch of your completeness.”



I so wanted to share it with him. I knew he had nothing like this for himself.” All senses went between my legs. The hand squeezed my neck harder. It did not matter. All my feelings were swirling inside trying to get to my clit. Pleasure, pain, everything trying to find space inside me. There was no room. My life swirled on the edge of the growing and raging dark and deep whirlpool of all encompassing pleasure. A screamed struggled out of my squeezed throat and I was stabbed painfully deep into my cervix.



The pool got darker, I couldn’t breathe but the pleasure would not stop so I dove willingly into the spiral. I felt only pleasure, I heard a loud, life ending scream as more and more pleasure racked through my body. It would not stop and my body urged it on and on. The hand around my throat let my body breathe again but I did not care. I began to feel the thrusting between my legs but I did not care. All I wanted was to ride in the bliss filled spiral. Inside me, wet, pulsing warmth added to my pleasure. I could feel beauty dance inside me. I was only pleasure. The spiral was only pleasure. I became part of the spiral and its beauty. Slowly, I was pulled deep into the spiral’s total blackness.



Hours later, I awoke in instant total panic, screaming and thrashing. Strong nude arms wrapped around me and kept me safe. Uncle Jim’s voice soothed me, “You are safe. I have you. Rest while I hold you. Feel what is inside you.”



I felt completeness and drifted back into encompassing pleasure.



Ten hours later, I awoke in the Uncle Jim’s king sized bed, wrapped in comforters and protected by pillows. He was not in bed. In the bathroom, I peed. It burned a little. I felt inside my sheath. I was stretched, gaping and dripping cum. When I struggled to stand and look into the mirror, my nipples were bruised and I could see a red hand print around my neck. A thin black cloth was there too. It had rhinestones on it that said, “Good Morning Beautiful.”



Janet was breathing hard; her face was flushed; she looked at her watch and gasped. No one else could speak. Mary smiled weakly as if she had truly relived her night with Uncle Jim. She teasingly said, “I guess if you want to hear about our other nights, we’ll have to do it another time.”



Mandy could not hold her desire to continue, “What else did he do to you.”



Mostly we had great sex. He tried to get my mind to give up control again by having my body endure some pain, be denied or be restrained so he could lead me to even greater pleasure. But for the next two nights my mind would not relent and risk what had happen again, so we just played and teased.



The night after that, I still resisted, I have never felt such strength and power as he forced me down onto a devilish machine, called a Sybian. He actually used ratchet straps to pull my fighting body down onto it. A thin cock went up my lubed ass, a thick elongated bulb went up my pussy and a pimpled rubber pad pressed tightly into my clit.



My eyes blazed at him. I wanted to fight him and force him to prove that the special night when I spiraled down was not some mental trick. As he started the vibrating super masturbating toy, he turned it on very low. I knew I had this under control. Everything vibrated and the cocks thrust and twirled.



My mind raced to conquer him. It would not stop like it had done only once before. It was rebelling, demanding control of my pleasure. I was afraid of what had happened, I was afraid of the dark spiral that almost consumed me, I was afraid to ever give up control again, and yet, I felt I had failed my Uncle Jim. My mind made every cell in my body fight and fight violently. That special night, I loved every cell of Uncle Jim’s body and where he led me. Tonight, I would rip his heart out, rather than surrender control to him.



There was not a millimeter that I could move my ass, my pussy or my clit away from the machine. He had tied my hands to my sides and strapped them to my waist. For fun he put a suction device on my nipples and a ball with breathing holes and a strap into my mouth. My nipples extended twice their length, puffed up and became super sensitive.



As the machine pleasantly buzzed, he talked, “Learning to fly really scared you? You really only drifted. I think your body can fly but you are afraid. Fran could fly. She was not afraid. She taught me by trusting me to protect her. I marveled at her. Tonight, you will face forced orgasms and then, when there is no fight left in you, I’m going to fuck your ass, stretch it and fill your bowels with my cum because you cannot stop me.



Tomorrow, if you can face all that your body has shown you, maybe it will surrender and I can show you how sexually special you are. Maybe you can give me a chance to see you in true sexual bliss.



For the next thirty minutes, Uncle Jim kept my pussy, clit and ass lubed and that infernal machine speeded higher and higher until it forced me through one orgasm to another. It finally reduced me to falling forward onto my face and moaning in sensitive pain that I had to endure because I could not get away. I had cum so hard and so much, I was far beyond any sexual pleasure.



He did untie me. He laid me face down in front of the machine with my hips over a thick firm pillow. My mind was in neutral. My body was exhausted; it had no fight; it was beyond talking and beyond moving. He had told me what to expect. My asshole was stretched and relaxed but not enough. He knelt across me and slowly pushed his well lubed two inch wide cock up my tighter ass.



I wanted to scream at him and he quietly said, “Rub your clit and finish with me.” That did not seem like a request, so I rubbed. As he got closer and I began to get over the extreme sensitivity of my clit, he gave me some more suggestions, “Push fingers from your other hand up inside you and feel my cock fucking inside your ass.” I was beyond sensitive, but amazed at feeling his cock push up my ass and slide across the fingers I had in my pussy. I was feeling his cock inside my body. It was mind blowing.



My fingers flew on my clit and my other fingers curled into my g-spot. I started cuming. I was too sensitive to touch but I kept frigging my clit and started over the top when Jim slammed into my ass. His cock danced in me. He moaned in defeat and his balls emptied everything he had deep into my bowels. He collapsed on me and was totally still.



For the first time, I sort of understood the power exchange he was teaching me – he forcibly controlled me until my body surrendered in defeat to him, only then did I completely conquer his. Most of my fear of not being in control had left me. I now understood my control would come back, even if I gave it away for a while. After all my fighting, I had given him freedom to use me and ultimately delight in seeing me in extreme climaxes fighting through pain and sensitivity.

Part 17: Pleasures of the Program



I could see where this reward program was going. I was going to wind up sucking off, one-by-one, week-by-week, each of the guys I had been trying so hard to hide my behavior from. First Tim then Murphy were getting what they wanted precisely because they threatened to reveal what I was doing to my co-workers. Now, they were revealing it to them in the most effective way, one at a time. So, why didn’t I stop? Given that we all knew where this was all going, what did they still have to threaten me with? I don’t know. I suppose they could have told other people–maybe even Steph. But I didn’t even test them. I didn’t even try. It was as if I had accepted my role in the company now. It was humiliating and I knew people would feel contempt for me. I don’t know why I didn’t rebel. I guess I’d just adapted to it.



And it wasn’t as if it was totally without benefit. As I said, I was having more orgasms now than I ever had in my life. Granted, a lot of them happened when I had a hard cock in my mouth, my ass or both. And lots more happened when I was stroking myself and imagining a hard cock in my mouth, my ass or both. At work, I still came from time to time without touching myself when I sucked Tim or Murphy or, as part of the “reward program,” one of the other guys. (Interestingly, I often came the first time I sucked a guy off. I guess I found excitement in new meat. Maybe I liked learning that I could get a new guy off.) I was still Tim’s bitch on most weekends and I almost always came when he fucked me hard. If I didn’t, he would often order me to whack off until I came and then have me lick up my cum. And, when I was at home alone, I would beat off just because I seemed to be a walking urn of hormones all the time. About the only time I wasn’t cumming was with Steph. Mostly I was licking her over and over when we were together. I guess it was my way of trying to hang on to her. I sure couldn’t fuck her properly. If I got hard enough to enter her, I usually flagged before I shot my load and long before she came. Still, overall I was getting my rocks off very regularly.



And there were other attractions as I was to find out the week Tyrone was the high seller. Tyrone was a new guy, the one black guy in our office. It wasn’t like he was some sort of affirmative action hire. He was a good salesman. Not at the top most weeks, but never far from it. He was well educated and well spoken, tall and muscular without looking like a gym rat. He was very good looking. He was a really nice guy, to boot. And, he had other attributes, as I was to find out.



It would be a lie to say that, once I saw where the “reward program” was going I hadn’t thought a bit about the various guys in my department. And I guess I’d thought the most about Tyrone. You know, black guy fascination and all that. So I wasn’t completely unhappy when I learned that Tyrone was the top man.



I didn’t know if the rumor mill had finished working so that everyone in the office knew what these little Friday evening reward sessions were. Murphy had sworn everyone to secrecy but, you know how it is. I looked for some sign on Tyrone’s face as he walked into Murphy’s office. He looked at Tim, who was always present at these things and me on his way in, before looking at Murphy. I didn’t see any indication that he knew what was going to happen–no smirk or smug glance.



Murphy congratulated him on his performance and worked the conversation around to the “special reward” that I, as assistant to the manager, was going to “bestow.” That’s the word he used and it stuck me as funny because I’ve never heard of someone bestowing a blow job. Oh, well. Murphy could call it what he wanted. Whatever you called it, it came to the same thing. I was the one on my knees doing it.



We’d been through this several times before and I wasn’t so reluctant now. Waiting to be prodded had the advantage, I guess, of looking reluctant. But it allowed Murphy and Tim to appear to be even more in control and I didn’t like hearing them describe what I had to do. Better, I thought, just to do it.



As I got up to do my duties, Tyrone looked a little confused for a second and Murphy told him, in a very reassuring tone, “Just relax. You’re going to enjoy this. I garuntee it!” The last was said like the Cajun Chef. Very funny, I’m sure.



It’s much easier to unzip another guy’s pants if you’re on you knees and, besides, if you’re standing up in front of a guy and you try to unzip his pants, he’s pretty sure not to know what you’re up to. If you’re on your knees, he’s hip to what’s going to happen. So I got on my knees in front of Tyrone. As I reached up to unzip his pants, I felt my dick rising. I felt my heart pounding and I could feel my face flush. I was pumped like the first time I got ready to suck Murphy off but it wasn’t from shame, or fear, or humiliation, or self-loathing. I was over all of that. I was just fucking hot. I wanted to see this black cock. I wanted to hold it in my hand, and in my mouth. Did Tyrone fit the stereotypes? Would it feel different or taste different from a white guy’s dick? I was ready to find out.



I reached into his fly and wrestled out a thick, hot sausage of a cock. It wasn’t very hard, but it had a thickness and heaviness to it that made it exciting even in its present state. It was big, for a semi-flaccid cock. I knew that the bigger a dick is soft, the less it actually grows when hard, so I knew not to expect it to double in size like some cocks do when they get hard. But it didn’t have to double in size to be impressive. It was already a good six-and-a-half inches long and as big around as a fat Kielbasa. As I worked my fingers up and down the shaft and my thumb along the sensitive underside, he began to harden and swell. It looked to me as if it would top out at an impressive, and kind of scary, eight-and-a-half to nine inches. And it was expanding my fist so that my thumb was an inch from my fingers.



I couldn’t wait to get it, or as much of it as I could, in my mouth–so I didn’t. It felt as if the head alone filled my mouth but with some effort I could get a few more inches in. The effort was worth it. It was an incredible feeling to have my mouth around this monster. It felt like riding a wild bull or wrestling an alligator. I sort of lost a sense of what I was doing; I forgot completely about Murphy and Tim–and, I guess, I even forgot about Tyrone. Only that cock was real to me at that moment. But, God, it was world enough for me.



Though I could have just wrapped both my hands around his shaft, bobbed my head on and off his pole and been content for a long time, once I thought about his balls, I couldn’t get them out of my mind. I couldn’t see them. I had fished just his cock out of his trousers. I couldn’t see them; and that was a problem. So I let go of his hot cock and, maybe with too much enthusiasm, unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. Then I pulled everything down to his ankles. The moment when I had to release his cock from my mouth was difficult. But Tyrone’s cock knew its new home. The moment the waistband of his boxers had cleared it, his cock sprang back up and slapped me in the chin. I took him back in my mouth and moaned as I felt filled again.



Tyrone wasn’t particularly hairy and his balls were practically bald–smooth and shiny black. They were the size of apricots. As I sucked on his fat shaft, I watched with fascination at how his balls moved in my hand. I gently rubbed on, and then the other, between my thumb and finger, feeling their firmness. Then I took my mouth from his cock and sucked his balls into my mouth, one at a time because I couldn’t fit them both in. He moaned in frustration when my lips left his shaft so I was careful to continue stroking his cock with my free hand.



My own cock was hard and straining against my jockeys. I always wore both jockeys and boxers these days because I never knew if my cocksucking would lead to my cock spewing. At this point this time, though, I was pretty sure. I didn’t care if I shot off. In fact, I was so horny that I yearned for it. Reluctantly taking my hand from Tyrone’s balls for a moment, I rearranged myself so that my cock was sticking up. At the angle I was at, and as hard as I was, it was sticking all the way out the top of my underpants and even my pants.



I took Tyrone’s ball sack in my hand again and put my mouth over the head of his cock. As I stroked and sucked him, I was rocking my hips, which rubbed the underside of my cockhead against the elastic in my underpants. I wasn’t getting as much friction as Tyrone was from my hand and lips, but I was getting all I needed. My load was boiling in my balls and I was ready to explode.



So was Tyrone. I’d gotten really good at anticipating when a guy was going to shoot off in my mouth. Truth be told, most guys (in my growing experience) weren’t too subtle about it. And I didn’t have to have any special expertise to tell that Tyrone was getting ready to shoot. He wasn’t the type to cum quietly.



Suddenly he tensed up and held completely still for a second. I reached down with one hand and grabbed my cock. I didn’t need the friction to cum. I was just at the point of spewing just from sucking him. But I really wanted to clamp my hand down hard on my cock when I shot my load. As I did this, Tyrone grabbed his cock and began pumping his cock into my mouth. As I felt my mouth fill, I heard him roar. God, I hoped that the rest of the office couldn’t hear that. Though I couldn’t imagine how they could have missed it. But I couldn’t think about that; I had other things filling my head right now.



Tim was a little smaller than Murphy, but he came a lot more. Tyrone was bigger than either and he filled my mouth with a load that dwarfed even Tim’s. I swallowed and swallowed. When he paused for a second, I thought he was done and I pulled off him so I could gasp for air. He wasn’t done, though. He shot another thick stream on my lips, cheek and nose. I pulled him back in my mouth to catch the last of this shot and felt his cum dripping down my cheek. I couldn’t do anything about that right away because I was still holding that fire hose and it was still filling my mouth.



When I was finally certain that he had finished, I pulled my lips back from his softening rod and used my finger to push the cum from my cheek and nose into my mouth. I heard Tim and Murphy comment on this. I didn’t care what they thought. Neither did Tyrone, for that matter, he was deep in his post-orgasmic haze. I guess I was deep in my own post-orgasmic haze, too.



After I’d swallowed the cum I’d pushed into my mouth, I sucked some of my own cum off of my hand and then I sucked Tyrone’s cock back into my mouth. I wasn’t trying to get him hard again. I just needed to suck on his cock. He started to pull away from my mouth and I reached between his thighs and put my hand on his ass, pulling him back into my mouth. I guess his cock was sensitive and he wanted to give it a break. He started to pull back again. As he did, my hand slipped between his ass cheeks and my fingers lit on the bud of his ass. This stopped his retreat. I was thankful for that because for the moment when his cock had been out of my mouth, I had felt empty. I needed to suck on his cock.



I pressed a little harder on his rosebud and felt just the tip of my finger penetrate the ring of muscle there. It was smooth and hot and I could feel it grip my fingertip tightly. And, remarkably, I felt his cock stiffen slightly. Wow! That was so exciting. He had shot an enormous load in my mouth just seconds ago and here I was resurrecting his rod. When I first sucked him back into my mouth after he came, I had no intention of getting him hard again, much less of get him off again. But now I sure did.



So I changed from just gently nursing on his cock to sucking it hard and sliding my tightly-clenched lips up and down his shaft. And I began gently thrusting my fingertip in his asshole.



He quickly lost all interest in removing his cock from my mouth. His hands went to the back of my head and guided me, gently but forcefully, along the length–or, rather, part of the length–of his shaft.



I had a mission now. I was going to get him completely hard again and I was going to make him shoot another load in my mouth. There was no turning back.



Surprisingly, it wasn’t taking much effort to get him on track for a second shot in my mouth. He hardened pretty quickly and I could tell that the tension was building in his loins. I couldn’t control my movements on his cock any more. He was holding my head tightly and using my mouth to satisfy his growing lust. I didn’t control that at all. But I could control what happened backside. I focused on penetrating his anal ring. Little by little I worked my finger deeper into his ass. I’d heard that you could milk a guy’s prostate by pressing in just the right way in his ass. That’s precisely what I intended to do, or at least try to do. I was going to get every drop of cum out of this guy.



When I was two joints in, I could press forward with my finger and feel something that I thought might have been his prostate. Whatever it was, he liked it when I touched it. I heard him moan and felt him push back on my finger to intensify the pressure.



I had enough experience as a cock-sucker to know when I guy is getting ready to unload in my mouth. But I was still a little stunned that Tyrone was hard and ready so soon. So I was surprised when he roared again and I felt that familiar, salty, tangy taste flood my mouth. I pressed hard on his prostate and I think I could feel the effect as he shot several more jets of hot cum in my mouth.



I sucked gently but insistently on his cock to get out all of the cum that I could. But when he finally pulled back from me, I didn’t resist again. I’d had all that I could take. I let my finger slip from his ass and his cock slip from my lips. I was done. Filled. Satiated.



It was interesting that it wasn’t my orgasm that finished me off. I was still hot and anxious for more until I got my second filling of Tyrone’s sweet cum. (I guess no one’s cum is really sweet. I mean, not like sugar. Still, ‘sweet’ is the word I was using in my mind to describe Tyrone’s cum. I wonder why that was.)



I sort of fell back, sitting down against Murphy’s desk. I was a mess. I had gotten only some of my cum on my hands. The rest shot over the top of my pants and underpants and onto my crotch and the thighs of my pants. I knew I’d have to take care of that somehow before I walked the gauntlet outside Murphy’s office, but I couldn’t think about that now. I just leaned back and gasped, trying to catch my breath.



Tyrone stumbled down into a chair without even pulling up his pants. He was about as with it as I was–which wasn’t much.



It was only then that I began, slowly, to pay attention to Tim and Old Man Murphy. They had a lot to say about the events–a lot of words, not many ideas. Basically, it boiled down to expressing amazement that Tyrone could cum so much and repeat so quickly, that I was so enthusiastic and eager to suck him off and things like that. They commented on how much I liked sucking Tyrone off. And, for once, I couldn’t disagree with them, not even in my own mind.



I guess everyone was sort of satisfied, or at least no one wanted to press for any more activities–maybe because it would just seem anticlimactic. When Tyrone straightened up and left Murphy’s office, Murphy told Tim and me to go, too. I cleaned up as much as I could and walked out holding my coat jacket clumsily across my lap to hide the wet spots.



Part 18: Tim’s Wrath



The fact that I had some plans for the evening didn’t matter to Tim. He ordered me to follow him home because he “had something for me to do.” Yeah. And I thought I knew what. So Tim wasn’t satisfied. I guess he might have been a little shy about following Tyrone with both Tyrone and Murphy watching. Tyrone was a hard act to follow.



I pulled into the parking lot at Tim’s apartment after him. When we got out of the car, he barely spoke. He just grunted for me to get up to his apartment. As soon as the door closed behind us, he started barking orders at me.



“Drop your pants and get down on your knees!” The forcefulness of his demeanor surprised me. I did what he said but was feeling very uncomfortable about it. Frankly, I expected him to either pull his cock out immediately and force it in my mouth, or order me to do that. But he surprised me. He had some things to say first.



“So, I don’t think you’ve been giving me your best, Jason.” He paced back and forth in front of me. I was in a very subservient position: on my knees with my pants and underpants down to my ankles and my cock sticking up from my crotch. This was just want he wanted, of course.



“That’s going to stop right now.” And he stopped right then, turned toward me, unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. He didn’t pause before shoving it in my mouth. He wasn’t hard as he slipped between my open lips, but as I began sucking and sliding my lips over his cock, he hardened quickly.



If he really wanted “my best” you would have thought that he would just stand there and let me minister to his cock, maybe kissing and licking his balls and sucking him as deeply into my mouth as I could while I stroked his shaft with my hand. But, instead, he was fucking my face–hard and fast. It was as if he was working out some anger.



I didn’t understand that. If he was upset about the scene with Tyrone, he should remember that the whole employee reward program was his idea. How was I to blame for that. Of course, Tyrone was different for me. I’d never enjoyed sucking a cock like I did Tyrone’s and, as a result, I’d never sucked a cock like I did Tyrone’s. But that’s hardly my fault.



But I didn’t get a chance to voice these thoughts and Tim, apparently, wasn’t having thoughts like these himself. He was fucking my mouth like he was punishing me. I was gasping for breath around his cock every time he pulled out a little. And I was gagging and retching as he pushed back into my throat. It was humiliating. And I was hard.



Tim had no intention of cuming in my mouth right now. When he felt he’d done enough damage to my mouth, he pulled out and ordered me to bend over the back of his couch. When I did, my asshole was a well-exposed target for him. And he didn’t waste any time hitting it. There was to be no easing in this time–no waiting for my anal sphincter to relax for his entry. He forced his way into my asshole in one long, powerful stroke. I screamed and tried to pull away but I couldn’t. My pants made it hard to move my legs freely and my weight was spanning the couch. My hands were supporting the upper half of my body on the couch cushions. I just didn’t have any leverage to get away.



He impaled me deeply and didn’t pull back for a minute or so. He just thrust forward, pinning my thighs against the back of the couch and rearranging my bowels.



“Beg me to fuck you!” he commanded.



I didn’t say anything. I was hurt and humiliated and really pissed at him. Then he spanked my ass–really hard. I yelled out and he just drew his hand back and spanked me again, even harder, in the same place.



“I said, ‘Beg me to fuck you!’ And I meant it.”



He spanked me again, and again. Tears were rolling down my cheeks by this time. His cock was tearing my asshole, I was sure, and he wouldn’t stop hitting me. I didn’t have much choice; I complied with his order. Anyone would have. If you’re hurt enough, you’ll do what you have to in order to stop the pain.



“Please fuck me! Please fuck my ass!” I pleaded. And the spanking stopped. So I went on. “I need your hard cock fucking my ass. Give it to me. Fuck me hard.” And then I felt his cock begin to move in my ass.



It was a relief as he retreated. And my ass relaxed when he pulled out completely. When he pushed back in, it didn’t hurt anymore. I could feel myself responding to his fucking. I dared not continue to plead with him to fuck me. He might hear the sincerity in my voice. It was beginning to feel good to me.

**



There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. — Anais Nin



**



From time to time, Anya had mentioned the “natural rhythm” of sex but until this afternoon, I had scoffed at the notion – lightly perhaps, but scoff I did. However, as the day wore on, I found myself thinking, shit, is that girl ever wrong?



With every step he had taken; slipping a hand into my bra, working my jeans down quivering thighs, he’d hesitated, almost imperceptibly, but it was there and I wondered at it. I hesitated too, but that was different. After all, he was supposed to be the one in charge. He’d led me to believe as much in the brief emails we’d exchanged before meeting. What had he said? Something about all the things he could show me? He’d shown arrogance. I’d shown naiveté!



At any rate, it was too late and there was no backing out. I had dutifully sucked his cock like a good girl and now…now I wanted to get laid and was growing impatient. How much longer was it going to take?



As absurd as the image was, the whole thing reminded me of a game of Monopoly. How many times did I have to allow him to pass go?



I was handing Park Lane to him on a silver platter…in fact, not just Park Lane. Mayfair too…Mayfair, I decided, almost laughing out loud at the jeering comparison, representing anal. Anyway, he knew he could have whatever he liked yet seemed content to wander around in circles while I wanted to scream, just take it, will you?



My eyes explored the emptiness of the ceiling as he gently but firmly pushed me onto my back. Without protest, I acquiesced. What a surprise.



“You’re an obvious submissive.” Anya had remarked once. “You’re such a funny one. Part of you wants independence – control, even – and the rest wants to be led around by some dangerous guy. I don’t know what to make of you sometimes.”



Lowering my eyes, I responded uncomfortably, “I don’t know what to make of me all the time, Anya.”



As he eased me back, my breasts rolled softly, settling to either side of my ribcage as I fell against the cool sheets. We kissed again as he moved on top of me, his erection hard against my thigh and I held his head tightly as his now familiar tongue explored my mouth.



I wondered if he could taste himself after the blowjob. Can men do that? Or are they so drunk on their bodies they taste only us? I made a mental note to ask Anya’s opinion.



It was another sappy question threading its way through my gallery of titillation as I perused and sampled fleeting visuals which for me were off limits during “real life.”



Leaving my mouth for a moment, he quietly whispered into my ear. “I like this. I like kissing you.” Offering him what I hoped was an enigmatic smile, I wondered if he was lying.



You? You? I repeated the pronoun twice to myself as I gazed up at him. By now, I was sick of hearing the word. He hadn’t called me by my name, not once, not that whole afternoon. I was getting an education in just how dehumanizing sex could be and thought, if kissing is intimate, addressing a girl by name is a long-term relationship.



“If all we do is to kiss like this,” he added, “the day was worth it.” I smiled for him again.



I did like it – a lot – the kissing, that is, but knew the barriers he applied to hold me firmly in place were there to keep our sexualities separate, with him supplying the cock and me submitting the cunt.



Stop complaining, I chided myself. It’s what you wanted!



He drifted down my neck, abandoning those sweet kisses of a few moments ago and planting fresh but firmer ones in narrow pathways before descending to my nipples, which earlier, he’d worked fruitlessly to suck a response from. Their utter refusal to acknowledge his attentions, though not surprising to me, seemed genuinely puzzling to him. Guess he was used to tits that talked back with more…zeal.



Tarrying a moment at each of the rose pink summits, he fellated them, gently at first, then harder, from time to time, lifting his eyes, awaiting for the reaction I knew I was “supposed” to show in appreciation. It didn’t happen. I felt nothing.



Didn’t he know how self-conscious I was? Hadn’t he noticed how I had covered my breasts the instant he had slipped my bra off? They were too large for my petite frame and I hated the thought of anyone seeing that.



I could feel his disappointment, but he soldiered bravely on, across the firmness of my tummy, lingering at my navel, which grew warm and then cool as the tip of his tongue scrubbed the little dimple, filling it with gluey saliva.



I knew his next effort would take him to my freshly-shaven slit, soaked with anticipation from what was supposed to have been a bout of simple fucking; something I knew now, had taken on greater complexity.



True to form, little self-conscious me instinctively closed her legs. Not too tightly though, as I truly wanted to feel a tongue there. Another of those acts I’d “never done before”, I was curious and wanted to know if I could come that way. Other girls did, or at least the contention was all over the internet, presented like some constitutional right and I thought back to our initial “I’m out here and want to have sex emails” from weeks ago when all of this started; when he had alluded confidently to his oral prowess.



With his intentions now obvious, I remembered it was during one of those exchanges when I did the unthinkable, revealing to a strange man that I’d be at the finish of my period by today. He’d responded with an almost predictably appropriate answer. “That’s all right, love. We don’t have to do anything the first day, just get to know each other and have a drink.” His tone had been reassuring.



Knowing it was likely a fabrication, I still opted to take him at his word and checked the condition of things down there the previous evening. My tampon had been nearly clean – nearly. So when I’d showered this morning, I had taken the precaution of inserting a fresh one anyway.



If nothing else, its presence — if I even let him get that far — might ward off the whole cunnilingus thing and I thought, if I lost my nerve, if I changed my mind or if I suddenly grew uncomfortable…well, it might serve to stop him. Shit, like most things, I couldn’t decide what I wanted.



After all, I’d just met him and somehow, nothing seemed more intimate than a man putting his mouth on me…there, kissing that sensitive flesh and drinking in my juices. And yes, I knew everyone did it, but that did nothing to alleviate my self-consciousness. How could a girl not be?



Anyway, I had to do something before he found himself tugging at a tampon string with his teeth.



“I have to go to the bathroom!” I announced when he was only half a breath away. He froze as both he, and time, screeched to a halt.



In the face of yet another of my ill-timed interruptions, he stayed surprisingly calm. “Of course,” he said, lifting himself aside. “This way.” He showed me to the bathroom door which I slipped through and quietly closed, shutting him out. It felt good to be alone, and listening till his steps faded back to the bedroom, I cautiously leaned into the mirror.



The girl who stared back wasn’t the same one who had smirked so confidently at me in the hall mirror this morning. With hair tumbled around her shoulders, cheeks rouged from his abrasive stubble and swollen lips testifying to having born hours of friction, she raised her fingers to her face, as if checking to see if it was really her.



Snapping back to attention from that tangential journey, but still focusing on my own dismal duplicate, I squatted and tugged, all the while eyeing myself warily in the mirror. Phew, I thought, it’s clean. It was settled then. I was going learn what it was like to have oral sex after all.



With a flush, a turn of the doorknob, and arms folded across my breasts to diminish their natural sway, I tiptoed back to the bed where he extended a hand in cautious welcome. “Come here,” he said. I slipped under the sheet.



***



Playtime was over, that much was clear. Having fed myself to him a la carte for hours, I recognized he’d have to make his move now or face the prospect of having to explain himself to some ‘end of time’ tribunal which sits in judgment of things male, and to which he’d have a problem presenting a rock-solid case for masculinity if he didn’t fuck me soon.



I imagined his plea to the court: “I held back with her Your Honor; waited hours even, all the time knowing she wanted it badly. Doesn’t courtesy count for something?” He’d explain it all with deferential arrogance, of course. The judges, presumably all women, would show little mercy.



Anyway, by now I wanted to be fucked. I had only stalled the whole thing these past hours through fear; fear of allowing another man back into a body which had lived in a sort of sexual solitary confinement for years.



And the thought that that someone would end up being a guy I didn’t know, had much to do with the splintering of my reasoning skills, now diverted due to what had apparently happened during my absence in the bathroom, because thankfully he had at long last decided to take full control of things; of me, something I desperately wanted.



For that matter, I had been “ready” from the beginning, at least physically. God, I was soaking before having left the apartment this morning. So yes, I was ready and certainly he, being a man, was ready. In fact, I so wanted to scream out loud: “FUCK ME GODDAMMIT, FUCK ME NOW! PLEASE!” But I didn’t.



As I opened my legs to him, his hand went straight for my mons and we kissed again. A moment later he was back down there, licking my clit, apparently not caring about my whole menses fixation.



He slid his tongue along my suddenly willing vaginal lips, still venturing to glance up at me, still appearing to seek that illusive sign of approval.



I was too nervous to respond, at least not the way he would have liked, other than to widen my thighs even more, which I think pleased him.



His mouth felt good there – in a mild sort of way – and I grabbed at his hair as if to say “harder.” Everything was so damned lenient with this guy – except for his cock, an object I hungered for but couldn’t seem to get inserted.



Anyway, having decided oral was pleasant enough, I pulled him back up to my mouth – my “regular” mouth, that is – knowing the orgasm of my dreams wouldn’t happen from a too gentle tongue on a clit aching for forcefulness. I needed him inside me and wondered what would all this be for if I didn’t come?



“That’s so nice,” he groaned into my open mouth, his fingers slipping into my sodden sex, whose condition, thank God, genuinely pleased him. It was the only firm reaction he’d gotten from my wavering body all afternoon and I was glad for him, poor thing. Too bad my conscious self had so little to do with it.



As he finally…finally, mounted me, I could feel the tip of his erection as he waited at the gateway of my sex where, using his hand, he moved himself round and round in concentric circles as if to say, “It’s me, I’ve waited all this time, and demand entrance.”



He kissed me again, giving me the chance to close my eyes to him, to keep at bay that intrusive device he used to “see into me” with what I felt was too much effectiveness. “I don’t want you to see in,” I silently berated him. “Just get on with it! Fuck me!”



My thoughts again drifted, back to Anya, only this time to another breathtakingly arousing video we had watched together only a week before. In it, a wretched girl, her wrists and ankles tied to bedposts, her vagina spread wide apart and completely at their mercy, was taken by one man after another. I so wanted to be like her, to be bound and free from the litany of detested decisions which he’d put me in the position of having to make. He had done it on purpose, damn him.



Why he didn’t just…I gasped with his lunge, and his erection slammed into me, collapsing my thought process which had drifted off for what seemed only a moment – for half a second! My eyes shot open widely and for an instant, I couldn’t breathe and clenched his arms tightly as if hanging on for fear of falling from a cliff!



He had done it so consciously, had waited to pounce, knowing all along he’d launch himself into me that way, that he’d hit me a hard blow, there, between my legs, to jar me to the reality that he owned the game – always had.



His eyes, shit, had riveted on mine, catching my fluttering lids as they snapped open, and fuck, it was already too late as I refocused to discover him staring into me. In that split second I was laid totally bare, and worst of all, I saw him see in. Fuck.



Instinctively, I did the same, only in reverse, staring right up at him. His satisfaction was instant, and stunning me that way left a word graven on the white-board of his features. It spelled “Conquest.”



Oh fuck – it had been so long – and it hurt and felt good and I knew what he had done.



He had retaliated. But I had played him – had dallied for hours upstairs and down — and, as if settling a score, he’d taken his revenge. I deserved it, I supposed, as I’d stymied his persistent search to reveal what pleasured the woman under him as he sought, mostly in vain, to have that pathetic need of his assuaged.



In that moment, he witnessed in me the full shock of it; a woman’s concurrent delight and dread at being pilloried under a man’s weight and physical strength, of knowing he could do anything to me, as I was helpless.



I fought desperately to shut him out again, but my eyes refused to answer as for an eternity of seconds, everything in me was on display. My mind’s defenses, though feeling the searing heat from touching the burner called sex, and not recognizing its full scorch, had seen my skin blackened before my intellect had time to send its message back to slow-motion fingers, telling them too late, to retreat, to back away.



Fullness had mastered emptiness and his body now waited for mine to catch up after his initial vicious swoop. It did, eventually, signaling to him by opening my legs, just enough to allow that final inch of myself and as if to say, “All right, you’ve made your point. Now if you’re going to fuck me, fuck me hard.”



I’d almost forgotten how it felt; how much I enjoyed penetration but was speedily reminded, as we calmed and settled into the rhythmic dance of sex. But letting go was something different as he wouldn’t, instead all the while continuing his search, his eyes still agaze, which to his annoyance, found mine persisting in silence, like two frozen lakes. “Now then,” he quietly offered, “Is that good for you? Are you okay?”



“It’s good, yes,” I answered, hinting affection now but still sidestepping pointless conversation. Placing my arm around his neck and pulling him to me, I once again kissed him deeply. In bits, my mind regained its resolve and my eyes found the courage to shut tightly, persisting in steeling themselves against a genuine inclination to open for him.



I feared if given the slightest liberty, they might show even more of who I was in the midst of an encounter whose brevity was central to its fulfillment. I dreaded too much intimacy, that I might…there was no telling what my body might allow him.



And he did seem to try, I’ll give him that; he strained to pleasure me but sadly, in the end, I don’t think the effort was intended for me, but rather for himself, for the amusement of knowing he could bring me off.



He pumped my open sex like a machine, and it was good, with no more of that “catch her napping and pummel her” kind of thing, but much as he worked and much as I lay back and took him, I knew almost immediately he couldn’t make it happen.



It was me. Something, something deep inside myself prevented it, prevented me from realizing the orgasm I craved with a man buried inside my dripping sex, so just as I did when alone, I sought my own way, carefully working my hand between our sweating forms, where I found it – my clit; swollen and ready but strangely detached from a body instructed since childhood to fend off exactly this; exactly him.



He said nothing and reacted not. But my digital flourish drew his displeasure. I felt it, knowing it questioned this shadowy man, a huntsman who had crawled out from his hiding place in the shadows of the World Wide Web.



For a moment I worried as I thought he’d counter me, as he had when he’d taken me with that swaggering pounce at the beginning, that he might display some contemptuous look, an abbreviated breath even, which might declare his true thinking.



For a brief second, the opportunity held itself up, as if suspended in mid-air. It was there for the taking, right in front of him…but he let it pass, just as he had let them all pass and I felt sadness as Anya’s admonishment rang loudly in my mind.



“Erotica,” she said, “issues through the joining of opposing sexualities, of his and hers. Otherwise we are slightly less than two people using each other’s bodies to Jack or Jill off.”



But I didn’t care anymore and continued nonetheless, working myself in spite of him. I guess I couldn’t help taking a final swipe at his wanting skills. It was the meanness coming out in me, stating I knew he couldn’t do it for me; that I, a lowly woman needed to intervene for herself in order to savor a simple orgasm!



Anyway, there was more – or less, rather – as a moment later, with my climax finally beginning to build, he came with a groan and then stopped.



We lay there for what seemed a long time, my fingers still pressuring my aching clit, only by then, having given up their will to manipulate. Like the kissing which preceded it all, this part I liked and I stroked his hair and listened to his breathing as it tapered back normalcy.



He softened, as I’d wanted him in the beginning, only now my reason, temporarily misplaced, suddenly returned and warned that I had to get him out before the condom slipped off him and into me. Oh God!



He got the message when I gave him a get off me kind of shove. Well, it wasn’t even a shove but he felt something, a stir maybe, and without relinquishing that indifferent look of his, he reluctantly backed out of my cunt.



Right away, my body curled into a chilled and near naked little ball as he wandered dispassionately off to the bathroom, to rid himself, I assumed, of the spent condom from his spent penis – which I would have attended to, had he asked.



In his absence, confusion invaded me, an all-too-familiar feeling of knowing I’d gone too far with all of this. Who was he anyway? For that matter, who was I? In two seconds, I had two questions and no answers.



The bathroom door creaked open and he reappeared, his cock now glistening and free of its counterfeit shield. It dangled lazily as he walked toward the bed where he slid in next to me.



“I think I should go,” I asserted quietly, abruptly jumping up and over him to the floor.



Suddenly I was all disarray, as like a scavenger, I grabbed at my clothes, the ones I could find anyway, and my thoughts clumsily tripped over themselves as images of Anya, my mother, and my own silly face in the bathroom mirror, collided with one another’s backsides in an emotional traffic pileup on a foggy motorway, where I unexpectedly slammed on the brakes to avoid an innocent deer in the headlights.



“So soon?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “Why, love?”



“I just have to, that’s all,” I answered too curtly. “It’s late and I should get home. Look at the time. It’s gotten away from me completely. I’ll walk to…how far is it to the station?”



Seeing my sudden agitation, he cautiously lifted himself onto his elbow.



“I’ll drive you there. You needn’t walk.”



“That’s very kind. Thank you. I’ll be ready in five minutes. Could we leave then?”

“Meet me under the bleachers after practice,” said Kerry Donahue.



More accurately, The Slut said that, using a wink and a demeanor never seen in Kerry before. She was still a little sore after last night’s deflowering, but her libido had not waivered. The Slut’s power was increasing, and it was starting to conquer the majority of Kerry’s decisions. Now she had convinced her to flirt with a football player and have some fun with him, a blatant violation of the rules for all cheerleaders.



The lucky recipient of this flirtation was Mickey Morris, the wide receiver. Perhaps the world’s most bland athlete, he had no traits to attract girls other than his body. Lucky for him, Kerry wanted a guy with a bigger build today. She’d gotten muscles last night, but now she wanted BIG muscles.



Kerry did her cheers with the other girls, doing her best to keep her eyes on Mickey for whenever he looked over. At the top of the pyramid, she stuck her chest out a little and winked at him again before falling and landing safely in the male cheerleaders’ arms. Kerry had never done better work than she was doing that day.



Juniper happened to be running around the track at this point, unbeknownst to Kerry. Her daily workout routine involved six miles around the track, and miscellaneous exercises such as stair sprints, sit-ups, oblique stretches, and her personal favorite, posterior deltoid composition. By the time she was done, cheer practice had ended, and she looked around for Kerry, but saw her nowhere. She decided to just head back to her dorm and prepare for her classes that day.



Coincidentally Juni’s route back to her sorority house involved taking a short cut behind the bleachers. She walked on, dabbing the sweat off her forehead with her towel. Suddenly she heard faint noises coming from up ahead, sounds that she originally thought were gasps of fear. But going on to investigate, she discovered that they were gasps of passion coming from her good friend Kerry Donahue, who was having her bare cunt sucked by Mickey Morris.



Her legs spread and her eyes closed, Kerry looked like she was auditioning for porn. If she were, she would have been hired. Needless to say, Juni was very surprised. She simply stood there, frozen, staring at the erotic scene before her. When Kerry finally opened her eyes, seeing a sweaty, red-faced, blushing Juniper before her, all she had in mind was having a second guy with her there. It didn’t totally register that Juniper was really there, but just enough to cause a problem.



Kerry hadn’t seen Mickey’s cock yet, but she was envisioning both his and another of a made up man, one slimmer than he. They both had great muscles, but had very different sets of manhood. The mystery man was a brunette, had a somewhat longer jaw, longer neck, and very long abs protruding from his stomach down to his groin.



When she opened her eyes again, Juni was gone. She wouldn’t be seen again for the rest of the day.



“Kerry, you there?” Yanni transmitted, a new and more confident tone accompanying her inner voice.



“Who is this? I’m a little busy,” Kerry replied, too occupied to realize that it could really only be one person.



“It’s Yanni, I need to see you and Matt right away. What’s your schedule like for the rest of the day?” Yanni urged.



“Not much, but I do have Psych today. Listen; can I finish up what I’m doing? This is amazing and I’m trying to enjoy it.” Kerry truly meant that; it wasn’t just The Slut speaking for her. There now sat a true enjoyment for the art of pleasure.



“Whatever just meet be at the Science Building at 3:00,” Yanni pressed.



Very annoyed that someone was still interrupting her fun, she quipped,”Yeah, whatever.”



The last time she’d seen Yanni, Kerry was a virgin. Now that things had changed, she had a strong idea of what the conversation would be about. But she was going to be strong and hold her own, and no matter what, she would not give in to-



“Oh god that’s fucking great!” she screamed as she experienced another orgasm. In seven minutes she had finished having sex for the second time.



**********



Matt was sitting in his Historical Statistics class when Yanni contacted him. He had fallen asleep in the car with Shelby, and when he woke up, he was already late. Fortunately, the teacher was too. But he sat there looking like a homeless man, bed-head, reeking of sex. The whole time, he had a big smile on his face from the remnants of the euphoria of the night before.



“Mr. Higgins, is there something you deem funny enough to ignore this lecture?” asked Mrs. Frange, the professor.



“No ma’am,” he said, wiping the smirk off of his face.



“See that you pay attention more thoroughly,” she replied.



As usual, everyone laughed at Matt’s general ineptitude. Normally he would withdraw and spend the rest of class sulking and doing his best to pay attention. But today he decided to fight back, although his imagination hadn’t expanded yet.



There was forty-five minutes left in the class period, and he was going to take his time accomplishing his goal as discretely as possible. He started with the ringleader bitch of the class, whose name he didn’t know. She wasn’t the most attractive magnet in the physics lab, but she sure knew how to draw a crowd. There was nothing in particular that she had done yet that day, but it was only a matter of time, so Matt wanted to cut her off at the pass.



The bitch sat four rows behind him, and feeling her out with his juvenile power, he undid her belt over the course of ten minutes, taking great care not to make any sudden movements. It wouldn’t be much, but his thoughts were that the bigger they talk the harsher they will be talked about.



The second victim was obviously Mrs. Frange. She did not wear a belt, but she did wear her hair in a tight bun. All he had to do was locate the scissors on her desk.



The third victim was a bit of a surprise. He decided to go for the shyest girl in the whole class, Brianna. It didn’t matter to him that she would be embarrassed beyond comprehension, he just wanted to see the little hard body she was hiding under her conservative little outfit. It required just a little more effort, but he was able to splinter her chair and hook her clothes onto it.



Matt turned the lights off and did his best to stay absolutely still while he lifted the scissors and cut Frange’s hair. When the lights came back on, she was on the floor, dazed and confused. The bitch from the back stood up and her skirt slipped off, exposing her very revealing thong. With a little effort, he gave Brianna the sensation of a spider crawling across her skin. Naturally, she freaked out and stood up abruptly, ripping her cardigan and her undershirt off of her, leaving only her bra on her chest.



The room turned to uproar of both laughter and gasps. The bitch was struggling to find where her belt had gone, and Brianna had simply disappeared. Frange, still uncertain what exactly had happened, attempted to regain control, only to fail miserably. Matt was laughing to himself when…



“Matt, this is Yanni. I need you to meet me at the Science Building at 3:00. It’s very important.”



Matt sighed and transmitted,”Yeah, no problem. But I need to be at another class at 4:00, will it take long?”



“I don’t think so. If it goes long we’ll just have Kerry do her thing.” Yanni insinuated her time freezing skill, but it didn’t occur to Matt until long after the conversation ended.



“Sounds good, see you then,” Matt confirmed.



Matt lost his enjoyment of his situation as soon as he heard Yanni’s voice. It’s not that he had any problem with her, but the last time he saw her he got very negative vibes coming from her.



**********



Yanni was late. She’d spent the morning learning the ropes for cosmetics. She used a curling iron for the first time, and Mel gave her the rundown on mascara and blush. The old Yanni would never have given in to the American standards of beauty, but the new Yanni had no qualms with objectification.



Luckily for her, Hannah was willing to let her take some of her less revealing clothes after deciding they weren’t provocative enough for her. However, by Hannah’s standards, the clothes she meant were sluttier than anything Yanni had ever owned. Even so, when she tried them on for the first time, she fell in love with the style. Still, she knew that her body wasn’t right for it.



She looked unrecognizable as Kerry arrived. She walked in expecting a frumpy-frizzy stick of a girl, but what she saw was a French model. She sat in a chair with her feet up on the empty table as she read a fashion magazine. Kerry didn’t find her body very attractive, but rather the demeanor in which she displayed it. She just stood out of Yanni’s line of sight for a few moments, taking in the sexy vibe she got from fifty feet away.



As she stood, Matt entered the building wearing brand new clothes. In the hours since Yanni had contacted him, he went out to buy clothes that didn’t make him look like a shut-in. He bought a plain white t-shirt and picked a crisp autumn flannel that he rolled the sleeves up with and left unbuttoned. He bought cheap but good-looking jeans that were just tight enough to accentuate his legs but not so tight to look emo. He styled his hair to look wind-swept, and bought some expensive deodorant for the first time. Looking at himself in the mirror, he thought, “If I were gay and another guy, yes sir.”



Kerry stared at Yanni until she saw Matt walk in. Her eyes detached from Yanni and glued to Matt, who walked with a new glide that exuded masculinity and passion for life. She completely forgot about the acne blemishing his pale skin. All she knew was that she wanted to please him yesterday, but today she wanted to fuck him.



“Hey, Kerry, nice cheerleading outfit,” he said, trying his best to sound cool.



“Matt, you look nice,” she replied, calm on the outside but nervous and horny on the inside.



“Listen, I just want to apologize for yesterday. I totally crossed the line and I just hope you can forgive me,” Matt said. He did truly mean to apologize, but he also knew that somewhere down the line, he would have sex with her.



“Oh no, don’t worry about it at all,” she accepted, “I forgive you completely and we can just move on.”



The last of his worries disappeared as soon as he heard that. Then they came back up when he took a look at Yanni, sitting in the cafeteria with a sultry smile on her face and a whole new look. “Well, let’s get this thing started. I’ve got to be in Lewel’s class in an hour.”



They walked in and sat down at the table with Yanni, who didn’t bother looking up. “Hey, Yanni you look amazing,” Kerry complimented.



“Don’t bother talking out loud,” Yanni said.



“Oh, sure,” Kerry replied.



“Look like you’re doing something, it’ll be creepy if you’re just staring at me,” Yanni ordered.



Matt and Kerry looked at each other in silence, unsure of what to do. Matt stood up and invited Yanni to grab food.



“So what’s the deal?” Matt asked as he picked up an apple and put in on a tray.



“I’m not ashamed at all to say that I got laid last night. I found that it was an incredibly enjoyable experience, and I want you two to commit to it so we can go forward with the agency,” Yanni admitted with prideful bluntness.



“Well if we’re going to be completely honest, I also lost my virginity last night,” Kerry admitted tactfully, trying not to reveal her total change. She picked up a boxed caesar salad.



“Don’t sugarcoat it,” The Slut teased.



“I’m on the same bus. I guess none of us are pure. Three Virgins no more,” Matt joked. It was funny.



“Convenient. Then does my offer interest you?” Yanni asked, paring the small talk.



As Matt and Kerry bought their food, they kept their minds quiet for a few moments as they thought it over. Kerry already knew the answer, but she wanted to decide whether the new Kerry should be advertised to the world. “What better way to find love than make it with hundreds of men?” The Slut reasoned, and that was all she needed.



Kerry spoke up first, “I think I would very much enjoy that.”



Yanni was very pleased and slightly excited at the thought of being a pimp. “Lovely. And you, Matthew?”



Matt had thought about it well enough, but also needed to hear the other side of the story. “I’m still not sure. I’m seriously into this girl and if she wants to date me I have to be faithful.” He sat down and looked Yanni in the eye, but then remembered to look nonchalant, and so started to eat his lunch.



“That’s so sweet, Matt,” the humane side of Kerry said, “who is it?”



For the first time since leaving home, Matt felt like he was interesting to someone else. “Shelby Walker. I’ve had feelings for her for a long time.”



Kerry sat down and gave him a playful punch on the arm. Of course, inside she felt incredibly jealous. As a matter of fact, her new slut pride demanded that she do something about it. She tuned out for a moment while she thought about screwing Matt, and doing it in front of Shelby.



She imagined tying her down to a chair and forcing her to see her recently acquired lover be stolen by the most popular girl in the entire school. Her mind wandered to-



“Imagine this. You wake up in the morning in bed with beautiful, sweet, sexy Shelby,” Yanni started, playing on Matt’s wild imagination, “and you get a nice slobbery blowjob to start off the day. She makes you breakfast, you go off to classes, and then you get to fuck any girl you want and even get paid to do it. At the end of the day you go home and there’s Shelby, just waiting to please you again. And she never says no, even if you come home with a sexy girl on your cock.”



Just the idea was enough to arouse Matt, but Yanni did it synthetically anyway. In a quick response, Matt gave in. “Shit, I’m sold.”



Yanni finally looked up from her perfume ad. “Glad to have you on board.”



**********



Kerry volunteered the empty room in her dorm. Dana didn’t mind, she hardly knew that anything was going on. Kerry simply told her that she would be using the room to help make a documentary for her friend’s Master Thesis for her film degree.



The three whores met in the empty room to start the planning process that night, when they all had open time blocks. Kerry never changed out of her cheerleading uniform, which made Matt slightly flustered, not to mention Yanni’s loose-fitting spaghetti strap and her micro skirt. Incidentally, that was the subject matter at hand.



“I need a new body,” Yanni explained, “or this operation is going to be very underhanded.”



Kerry took offense. “What do you mean? I can handle it. I’d love to handle it. Why wouldn’t I be able to handle it?”



“Kerry, darling, no offense, but if we want to generate enough money to pay off our student loans before the year is out, both you and Matt would need to fuck sixty times a day,” Yanni calculated. “So I would like to step in and take down your numbers to forty until we can find a fourth, fifth, and sixth member so we can all just do twenty.”



“Twenty? That still seems like a lot. I mean, we all just lost our virginities last night,” Matt worried.



“Matthew, darling, we have a talent that can give us superhuman endurance. Maybe not enough for forty or fifty but certainly for twenty. Don’t worry, it will be fine,” Yanni cooed. The new girl that stood before him concerned him, but he knew that she was right. He definitely needed the money, and he would just have to bear with it.



“So, how about an upgrade, Kerry?” Yanni asked.



“What do you have in mind?” Kerry asked, uncertain of how much change she could cause.



“Well, you’re sort of a more plump and wholesome girl. You’re the Marilyn Monroe,” Yanni complimented, a subtle smile on her face. Kerry smiled and blushed just a little bit as Yanni continued, “So I think for a little more variety I should be more like a sexy version of Gwyneth Paltrow. But I’m already too skinny so I need you to give me a little more flesh, a little more bust, more model and less death, you know?”



Kerry thought about it for a moment, and then closed her eyes. She envisioned how Yanni looked now, and what she wanted. She took Yanni’s bony look and gave it meat all over, already giving her the look of the average girl. She reduced the bridge of her nose to let it slide straight down, and widened her chin by just a centimeter. Her hair grew out and obtained a sexy curl mirroring Kim Basinger’s look in her Oscar-winning performance. Her ass became grab able, her breasts became more bosomy, and her thighs became soft and toned. Yanni became the body her mind belonged in.



Matt sat there, jaw to the floor as he watched flesh mix and stretch until it settled, fitting perfectly across her being. Something about the process aroused him to the point that he tented his new dark jeans. When Yanni opened her eyes, they instantly floated to the bulge.



“Fix that, too would you?” Yanni suggested.



Kerry followed Yanni’s gaze to her sexual goal, and gasped when she noticed the extension. “I… um…” she whispered.



“A problem, Kerry?” Yanni inquired.



“It’s just that… I can’t see it,” she explained, “and I need to see it to know what I’m changing.”



That wasn’t true. She could just feel it out with the force of her will. But using her power gave her quite a rush, and that involved the endorphins that eroticized her blood.



“Well, Matthew, loosen the belt if you will,” Yanni directed.



After a quick moment of his natural reaction, which was to stare blankly and mouth agape. Then, it hit him. He didn’t have to be embarrassed anymore. Life had taken a new turn and it was time to embrace it. He stood up and wasted no time dropping his pants, allowing his full mast to spring into the clean air.



Yanni smiled devilishly, and Kerry blushed heavily, wanting to drop to her knees right there and suck him off. But she held off, instead opting to follow instructions and adding two and a half inches to his manhood, topping off at a full and beautiful nine inches. She started to remove the hair, but Yanni stopped her, leaving just a thin layer of hair that would neither get in the way nor look unnatural. Then she proceeded to darken Matt’s skin to a nice toasty sun-kissed look. His new look was complete.



“Kerry, is there something you want to say?” Yanni asked, noticing her specific attention to the head of Matt’s penis. Kerry tore her eyes away to look and Yanni and slightly shake her head.



“Um… is there anything you want to change about me?” Kerry asked quietly.



“I wouldn’t think so. I’ve always thought you had the perfect body,” Matt flirted. Kerry only blushed harder.



“I agree,” Yanni said, “your body is just right for a major demographic. Now Matt, where can we send your clients?”



“They can just come to my apartment. I’ll have a… friend clean it up for me,” Matt said, referencing Lara, who he expected to turn into a client.



“Excellent. I can just use my place, too.”



The conversation went on like that for several minutes back and forth between Matt and Yanni. Kerry stayed relatively quiet, trying to withhold herself so as to stay professional while Yanni was around. Eventually, everything was set except for the other three whores they needed.



Kerry, hardly able to wait any longer to get at Matt, suggested that Yanni talk to her roommate.



“Why don’t you do it?” Yanni inquired.



“You’re a lot more convincing than I am. You’ve got this whole thing figured out. You should just go talk to her, I’m certain she would be on board,” Kerry blurted. She just nodded and walked out. Kerry gave one last word before Yanni turned around and gave a sexy one-liner. “Thanks Yanni,” Kerry said.



She turned around and let her luscious curly hair flip, “Call me Arianna.”



Her two new friends smiled at the cheesiness of it, but also at the sexiness. They looked at each other with big smiles on their face, and as the sexual tension rose once again, their smiles faded.

“Now’s your chance, dearie,” The Slut whispered, “show him what you’ve got.”



Kerry lost her nervous and shy demeanor, taking on the new reality of who she was. A new look shined in her bright eyes, and her lips closed, crooking a smile on the left side of her face. She turned her head slightly downward, giving Matt an innocent look and batting her full eyelashes. “You know Matt, I’m really sorry for the way I reacted yesterday,” she breathed, doing a rather fine impression of Marilyn Monroe, taking Yanni… Arianna’s compliment to heart, “is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”



“Oh, don’t worry about it. I was totally out of line,” Matt replied coolly.



“Please? It would make me feel much better,” she cooed, pushing her breasts together to expose her cleavage in her skimpy, low-cut college cheerleader’s uniform.



Normally, in any situation, real or fake, Matthew Higgins would play it cool and ease his way into the sexual fun yet to come. Not this time. No more beating around the bush. He was about to become a whore, so why wait?



“Well, you know, Kerry, you could just make up for lost time and fuck me.”



Not a moment passed after he said that before Kerry pounced. She locked her lips onto his and her hand onto his crotch. Matt returned the favor and glued his hand to her right breast, using the other to hold her waist. She whimpered lightly as he planted forceful kisses onto her mouth, turning her damp panties into soaked panties.



When he lowered his hand to feel just how damp she really was, he knew what he really had to do. He carefully eased the force of Kerry’s advances. He was aware that he had provoked her, and blatantly too, but now he had a change of plans. Kerry eventually got the idea, and slowly pulled away from Matt’s face and stared into his eyes, a glazed look with her gaze.



“I think…” Matt murmured, “you’ll have to work a little harder if you want me.”



Kerry got down on her knees and looked up at Matt. “Please,” she begged, “I’ll do anything.”



Matt chuckled a little and leaned down to give her a taunting kiss on the cheek. Walking out of the room, he turned around to give her one serious message. “Be careful of… Arianna. She’s trying to control us completely, and we can’t let her get too strong of a hold.”



Too strong of a hold. Those words echoed in Kerry’s mind, searching for a place to take refuge. They bounced around as she sat alone in the room, the only sound keeping her mind filled. Too strong of a hold. The echoing grew quieter, slowing down. Strong of a hold. It found a corner in her mind to hide in. Strong hold. The Slut got a hold of it, grasping it in her hands, caressing it sweetly. She stretched it to a great capacity. STRONG HOLD.



**********



A girl sat in a coffee shop, all alone, sipping a latté and checking her social networking sites. Every head in the building had turned her way at some point. She didn’t take notice of course, she was so used to it that it became the normal world. She’d already heard every possible complement to hear. She knew that she looked hot with her two piercings above her upper lips. She knew that her large and shining eyes attracted even the hardest to get and exclusive men on the market. Her dyed red hair only magnetized men more, her tattoo displaying a bold “You Only Live Once” just under her collarbone, everything about her just begged for some sexual attention. Underneath her clothes laid dormant a Greek-like bust coupled with plentiful pink nipples and a luscious ass to match her slender figure.



Only one man had ever accomplished the feat of bringing this flawless vixen to bed, and he would remain the only man for the rest of her life. This true beauty’s name was Sarah, a devout lesbian.



Sarah sipped her coffee and enjoyed the atmosphere, oblivious to all the attention she was drawing. As she sat there, in walked a pair of beautiful girls, evidently in the midst of a heated discussion, for when they walked in their voices grew quiet. The skinnier looking girl noticed a few people looking, and gave the red-haired cheerleader a stern look. Suddenly they both quieted down, and then sat at the last open table.



Sarah didn’t hear what they were talking about, and she didn’t care. The dark-haired minx that hardened the air with sensuality had her mind occupied. She stopped drinking her coffee, she stopped thinking completely. For a fleeting moment, when the girl sat down and her legs crossed, Sarah could feel complete and absolute bliss. The darkness in her eyes, her hair. Omniscient glances about the room. She was exactly what Sarah wanted. Or more accurately, who she wanted to please.



Sarah lost track of time as she gazed endlessly at the outer shell of a woman she knew not to be humane and sweet deep inside. She did not notice that her lips had remained unmoving for half an hour. When suddenly this girl turned to her, she felt a surge, a shock of enamored blood electrifying every inch of her.



“You’re mine,” said a disembodied voice.



Sarah gasped, whispered, “Take me.” And the world became black.



**********



Kerry held the strange girl’s hand, escorting her alongside Arianna. She was worried that this girl had people that were looking for her, or important things to deal with. Unbeknownst to her, this girl had nothing to do all day, and in fact would have willingly come along if given the offer.



“Are you sure this is okay?” Kerry said, guiding the girl across the street.



Yanni marched along, regardless of Kerry’s slowing pace and explained, “Kerry, I want to be sure that you can do what I want you to do. You’re going to take care of girls as well, so you need practice.”



The pretty, currently mindless girl walked stiff and straight, still looking natural in her beanie and horizontally striped sweater. Nobody gave her a second look for her unblinking eyes or her robotically angular posture. A rather horny college boy passed by and couldn’t help but stare at her massive breasts. An older, married man passed by and noticed her shimmering brown eyes. A girl that she normally would have flirted with noticed her piercings and felt self-conscious for not having any.



Most importantly, a handsome looking brunette man took attention not to Sarah, but to the model-like cheerleader. The man’s heart jumped at the sight of her, and unbeknownst to the group, he began to follow them.



Along the way, she spoke not a word, for her mind was blank, emptied with the power of Arianna’s thoughts. Eventually, after much silence and walking, when sweat began to form on all three girls’ heads, Arianna returned the basic semblance of the girl’s mind to her, but no fraction of choice.



“Tell me your name,” Arianna said.



“Sarah,” she said mindlessly as she continued walking.



“Sarah, you’re going to do exactly as I tell you without question, do you understand?” Arianna continued.



She mumbled, “Yes.”



Kerry still felt uncomfortable with the whole ordeal. She was extremely excited to be with a girl again, and this time more extensively, but even so she felt that she needed to be the master of her own destiny. At that moment, she was not in control.



“Don’t worry darling, just enjoy the ride,” The Slut convinced her, pushing the skeptical thoughts out of her mind.



At last they arrived at Arianna’s house. They walked inside and found the house totally empty, as usual Mr. and Mrs. Carmela were out on business matters.



“Mel? Are you home?” Arianna called up.



No answer.



“Kerry,” she said quietly, “please go upstairs, into my sister’s room. It’s the first room on the left. Just go in and wait for Sarah to walk in. Then you’ll treat her like a customer. This is general training, understood?”



“Yes…” Kerry said, unsure of how else to respond. She made her way upstairs, taking steps slowly, still trying to absorb exactly what was happening. Arianna walked up and into the first bedroom, pausing in the doorway but not turning back to look.



Arianna turned to Sarah. “You will go in there and have sex with that girl, understood?”



“Yes,” Sarah replied.



“I don’t care what your sexual orientation is, you’re going to walk in there and have sex with her. Take whatever turns you on, whatever makes you cum the hardest, and make it happen. And keep it going twice – no – three times longer than normal. Go crazy in there. Most of all, have fun. Understood, Sarah?”



“Yes.”



Arianna smiled at the amazing power she held over the sweet girl before her. “When I snap my fingers, you will come out of your trance and be yourself again, remembering all your instructions but not that I gave them to you.” Sarah nodded in acknowledgment, and Arianna snapped her fingers crisply.



Sarah’s posture returned to its relaxed state, a far more attractive composure that displayed confidence and an easy-going nature. She blinked her eyes a few times, coming out of the darkness to realize that she was no longer in the coffee shop, and instead in an unrecognizable house with the beautiful girl she spotted.



“Well, this is the place, what do you think?” Arianna inquired.



“Oh, well…” Sarah didn’t know what to say. If she freaked out like she naturally would have, she felt she would blow her chance at getting to know this phenomenally gorgeous girl, so she had to calm down and act natural quick, ignoring the wet spot forming on her panties.



“Oh, I know, Sarah’s used to a posh and pompous life,” Arianna joked.



“No, no, it’s great. Do you… mind if I look upstairs?” she asked, feeling a strange need to inspect what was behind the door visible through the support bars of the balcony above.



Arianna started to walk towards the kitchen as she replied, “Go right ahead, I’ll just fix us all something to drink.”



Sarah nodded and went upstairs, feeling the presence of passion growing ever nearer with each step. When she reached the top of the stairs, she almost gasped with the arousal she felt building up. She wanted to go downstairs and have the mystery girl relieve her, but her desire to enter the room in front of her was somehow stronger. She stood in front of the door and turned the doorknob.



Earlier, when Kerry walked into the room, she almost instantly dropped her character of innocence and took off her outer shell of cheerleading garments, leaving only her plain look bra and panties. She looked at herself in the mirror, enjoying the way she was now exposed. She hadn’t actually looked at her body in a mirror before. Now Kerry saw what she had been missing, what everyone else she’d met in college had been noticing all this time. Just the sight of herself was enough to get her aroused.



“Oh darling, now you can appreciate yourself, no?” The Slut asked. “We just need you to get a little wardrobe change. You’ve got lingerie, sure. But maybe some skimpier everyday clothes. Enough to show off your desirability without looking too… easy.”



Kerry knew that The Slut was right. Later today she would definitely be making a trip to Victoria’s Secret and stores of the like. But for now, she would just enjoy the touch of her fingers across her silky soft skin.



“You know,” The Slut began, “this little innocent girl act you’ve been putting on is really sexy. That might make you very popular with men.”



For the first time, Kerry gave a direct response to her inner self, “So what should I do for the girls?”



“Just do what comes naturally,” The Slut winked.



Kerry smiled and slowly began dipping her body and swaying back and forth, imitating a stripper. She teased the mirror with her gyrations, the irresistible cleavage she displayed, and the simple bite of the lip, sweet and sexy and unsavory all at once.



Sarah walked into the room to find this sight, and instantly dropped to her knees. Kerry turned around, whipping her beautiful hair with the sudden motion. She smiled devilishly and walked to Sarah, closing the door behind her. She leaned down to her face and lifted her chin with one long, slender finger. “What’s wrong, Sarah?” she murmured, her lips directly in front of her victim’s.



“I…” Sarah began, too overwhelmed with desire to finish.



“What is it? You can tell me,” Kerry said, getting ever so slightly closer.



“I… want…”



“I can give you anything,” Kerry whispered.



“You…”



Kerry kissed Sarah’s lips softly, teasingly, and when the kiss broke, she walked over to the pink-sheeted bed and laid down on it. “Take me,” Kerry conceded.



Sarah looked up with a glazed look in her eyes, one of true amazement. This was not the girl she had in mind, but she certainly knew she had to have her. She stood up and slowly approached the bed. “You really mean that?” she asked.



“Your wish is my command. I will do anything that pleases you.”



In normal circumstances, Sarah would have begged to be taken, but some unnatural element compelled her to take instead. Still uncertain of the reality of the situation, she kept it very mild.



“I want you to… take the rest of your clothes off.”



Without getting off the bed, Kerry removed her panties, revealing a smooth and barren vulva, glistening with the beginnings of arousal. She removed her bra, exposing her plentiful mounds, and she laid there perfectly nude. Sarah gave a sharp gasp at the sight of her. “What else can I do for you, Sarah?”



Without even taking her clothes off, Sarah climbed on top of the naked angel and let her hand dive down to her sex, almost instantly penetrating with two fingers. Kerry moaned and smiled, biting her lip in pleasure and excitement. Sarah pumped her fingers as Kerry gyrated her hips subconsciously. Her eyes were closed, and she could not see the passionate gaze that Sarah shot in her direction.



“Talk to me,” Sarah commanded.



That was The Slut’s cue to jump in. Kerry remained feeling all the wonderful sensations of Sarah’s expert fingers exploring her, but The Slut embodied the vocal response fitting the situation. “You feel so good, Sarah, don’t stop, keep fucking me with your fingers… ooohh…” she moaned with true enamored passion in her voice.



Sarah bent her fingers ever so slightly inside of Kerry, forming a small hook. This action made Kerry twitch for a quick second, and she began to play with her breasts, pinching her nipples and massaging her flesh. Sarah took her hands away and replaced them with her mouth, licking and sucking on Kerry’s nipples with powerful zeal.



The slut continued fulfilling Sarah’s order. “I knew you would be good, you look too sexy to not know your way around a wet pussy… OH!” Her vagina already began to convulse with pleasure, although irregularly. It wouldn’t be long before she had an orgasm.



Sarah wasn’t totally aware that she was simply following orders. It occurred to her that she didn’t want this girl to please her or do anything to her for that matter, but it didn’t occur to her that there was a reason she chose to fuck her. She was enjoying the hell out of this experience, but only because she was meant to. In truth, she already was just dealing with the situation until she could get back downstairs.



Kerry had completely forgotten that this was meant to be her training exercise. The burst of arousal that came from having this gorgeous girl fingering her emptied her mind completely, and she wanted nothing more than to cum hard for her. “Fuck me… oh please fuck me harder…” The Slut moaned in Kerry’s stead.



Sarah picked up the pace. “You’re so sexy,” Sarah forced herself to say. It was true, and she knew she meant it, but she wanted to focus on getting this strange girl to finish.



“Oh GOD! I’m so tight… your fingers fill me up…” Kerry screamed.



Sarah suddenly gave a quick burst of fingering, and Kerry began to shake vigorously in pleasure. Just as she was about to cum, Sarah stopped and pulled her fingers out. Kerry opened her eyes, still shaking. She became lost in Sarah’s gaze.



Sarah slowly moved her head down to Kerry’s pussy. Kerry could feel her breath against her bare lips. Just a single lick, and Kerry came hard, screaming and shaking. “FUCK! OH FUCK!” she ululated. Sarah stood up and watched Kerry writhe in pleasure in the longest orgasm she had yet experienced. Then, she left the room.



When Kerry’s bliss subsided, she finally noticed that she was all alone in the room. All she knew was that she needed more, and this time she needed to do some giving. Very quickly, she gathered her underwear, throwing it back on quickly, and she ran out of the house that way, leaving very little to the imagination. Opening the door, she saw the brunette man from earlier standing on the porch, about to knock on the door.



“Kerry! Listen this is going to sound crazy, but-” the man started.



“Take your fucking pants off,” Kerry demanded through her clenched teeth. She closed the door and started unbuttoning the stranger’s pants.



“Kerry don’t!” He yelled, attempting to pull her off. But she wouldn’t have it. Kerry forced his arousal with her mind, and practically froze his will to allow her whatever she pleased. When his protests stopped, Kerry continued removing his jeans, and quickly pulled out his cock. It looked somehow familiar, but she didn’t dwell too long on it, as she began to suck it. Once again she felt at ease with a large hard-on in her mouth, enjoying more than ever the feel of her tongue sliding past its head and down the shaft while it approached her throat.



“Whoa… Kerry…” the strange man chuckled.



Kerry attempted to take the large cock further, past her uvula, but she was not experienced enough yet. She gagged, and quickly withdrew it from her mouth. She took a moment to salivate her throat again, and tried once more. She succeeded and letting the tip tickle the bottom of her uvula, but could only hold it there for a second before she gagged again.



“You don’t have to do that,” the man said, understanding her natural ineptitude at deep throating.



Then the idea suddenly hit her. She would have to practice deepthroating later that night, back in her dorm room. For now, she could do something totally new and still manage to please this strange man. “How about this?” she asked.



“How about wh-” the man started before cutting himself off at the feeling of hot saliva on his balls. He shuddered as he felt the overwhelming tickle of Kerry’s tongue licking his scrotum, and his knees bent slightly. A new sensation overtook him, a stirring inside his testicles. Kerry grabbed hold of his shaft once again as she enveloped one of the testicles in her mouth. The stirring grew stronger, and soon it would crescendo.



“What the fuck…” the man started, “what the FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK!”



An extreme amount of cum fountained from his towering penis, jumping into the air and landing in her hair, never once touching the ample amount of beautiful skin in its line of fire. She stopped her new hobby and began pulling the cum out of her hair to get a taste of it. The man instantly jumped back and pulled up his pants, a frightened look on his face.



“K-Kerry,” he stammered.



“Your cum tastes so good,” The Slut announced.



He tried to get her attention again, “Kerry please listen, this will sound crazy, I know but-”



She still ignored him, “I can’t wait for… mmm… more.”



“Kerry!” he yelled. She looked up, finally switching back from The Slut into Kerry. Her urge to get a second orgasm out of the stranger fell to the back of her mind as she waited for the urgent news.



He looked into her eyes intently. “It’s me, Juni.”



**********



Back inside, Sarah had made her way into a conversation with Arianna. She ultimately intended to strip down and beg to be dominated, but Arianna’s will brought on a different approach. She had noticed the wide-eyed and dependent look on Sarah’s face, and decided to take advantage of the situation. Looking into her mind, she found the intended scheme and unveiled it instantly.

I hear the door open and I wonder what ever possessed me to ever end up like this. I left him keys to get into my house, I am following his instructions, why? I am a grown woman and yet here I am, letting him control me, dominate me, feeling like a naughty school girl doing something I really should not do… panic hits me along with the excitement but it is too late now.



I hear his footsteps on the wooden floor heading to my bedroom, I did exactly as he asked even though I still don’t know why I did. The soft breeze from the window is running over my exposed skin, the slightest glisten of sweat is covering my body as I lay spread out naked on the bed, wearing nothing but the blindfold he instructed me to have on. My natural instinct is to cover up, I can’t see but soon I know he will be in my bedroom, staring down at my naked body on display for him. My fingers dig into the sheet, I want to pull the duvet over me and hide myself and my desire from him but I can’t, it is on the floor, folded neatly out of reach. Is this why he insisted on me doing that, did he know my nervousness would want to make me cover up. My hands want to cover myself as best they can but I bite my lower lip and resist the urge.



We have spoken about this, flirted with the idea but and here I am, finally giving into the fantasy and I am afraid. I have met him before, we have spoken for years but we have never done anything like this, he has never seen me naked, vulnerable and now he will and I will not even get the chance to see his reaction. I know him… I think I do at least, oh my God, what am I doing. My throat is dry and I swallow hard, I can feel my stomach rise and fall faster and faster the closer his footsteps get. I am laying in the middle of my bed, my legs are spread, I can feel the heat and wetness from between my legs, the air is filled with the heavy sent of sex, my arms are spread out, my fingers digging into the edges of the bed as I hear him just outside my bedroom door, my breasts are heaving up and down I am sure, OMG, what am I doing.



The urge to cover up hits me even harder as I hear the squeaky bedroom door start to open but I just dig my nails into the edge of the bed harder and fight the urge, “you have been wanting this, craving this” I tell myself as I bight my lower lip even harder. His footsteps are definitely inside now, as I hear the door close. I can’t see him but I can feel his gaze upon me, staring at me, looking me over from head to toe, he can see all of me, see every breath I take, see the glistening of the sweat covering my body, what is he looking at? My legs, my breasts heaving with my nervous breaths, my smooth hairless pussy, which feels like it is gushing with excitement, the rise and fall of my tummy, the scar from the operation cutting across the left of my stomach, OMG, what am I doing?



“Relax” I hear him say softly and it feels like my heart races even faster. My skin feels like it has been electrified in anticipation of what I am not sure. I can’t see, what is he going to do, kiss me, touch me, what is he thinking, is he repulsed by what he is seeing, my naked imperfect body laying completely exposed for him. I almost stop breathing in anticipation of what I don’t know, attention, rejection, pleasure, pain… my mind is racing.



I gasp suddenly when I feel a soft warm sensation gently swirling around my left nipple, I freeze at the sensation and I can feel goose bumps cover my body. His soft gentle tongue is encircling my nipple and it grows harder than I have ever felt it grow before. As quickly as the sensation hits it disappears and my mouth is left open, wanting more of his touches, it feels like for just a moment the fear has disappeared and replaced with the most intense feeling of excitement.



I don’t breath for a second and then I feel his second touch, his fingers gliding gently over the smooth waxed mound of flesh above my pussy. The feeling is like a bolt of electricity running through my skin and my pussy contracts, pushing out a glistening clump of wetness which I can feel rolling over my skin and down over my ass.



Just as quickly as the sensation hit, it left as his fingers left my skin and a second later it was tracing over the scar on my stomach, I inhale and tense my stomach muscles. My excitement is now joined by fear, I am so self conscious about the scar, it is not pretty and his touch stays there too long, what is he thinking? His hands leave the scar and I am now nervous, what if he is turned off by it, my mind is still thinking about it when I suddenly feel his lips on the scar, he is kissing it, slowly, placing wet kisses along it from one side to the other.



My mind is racing, it feels so good but I know it looks ugly. When he makes his way to the end of the scar his lips move away and I am still breathing heavily, my mouth still open and my left nipple feeling like it has been teased by cold ice for hours and paining from the strain of his earlier kiss.



I feel his fingers again, this time on my right nipple, he pinches it between two of his fingers and it is painful but in a good way, my hips involuntarily heaves as the pain shoots through my body and I can feel more of my feminine juices flowing from between my legs as my pussy clenches under his loving torture. I want to close my legs and hide my excitement from him but his words remain in my head, not to move when he is there, to obey his instructions and give in to his desires.



He made me promise that I was his for the afternoon, that I had to submit to his will, to be his slut, his lover, his sex toy. He made me promise and here I was, caught up in a situation I both feared and loved, a fantasy coming true. My mouth was still open and I was still breathing deeply when I felt him press something against my lips, my tongue reached out and curled around the head of his cock, I could immediately taste the saltiness of his pre-cum and feverishly sucked his manhood into my mouth as deeply as I could.



As the head of his cock slipped into my mouth I sucked hard on it, I took my tongue and traced it around the rim of the swollen head of his cock and even gently tried to slide my tongue into the leaking slit at the tip of his cock. I could hear him gasp at my playful gestures as I sucked on him. His hand had found its way between my legs and was rubbing my clit harder and harder the more I sucked on him. I got this incredible feeling of power and delight, hearing his moans, and feeling his hand push harder and harder against my clit.



I used my tongue to make him pop out of my mouth and I felt his hand stop moving over my engorged pussy lips. “Did I tell you to stop?” he said softly before I heard the smack and the sudden stinging sensation from between my legs as his hand spanked my pussy hard. The sensation was beyond words, he moved his cock to my mouth again and I closed my lips, preventing him from sliding into my mouth. Smack, his hand landed on my reddening pussy lips again, this time a little harder, the pain made me open my mouth and gasp, my pussy clenched and I was sure I was but moments away from an incredible orgasm.



He moved his cock to my mouth again and this time I let him slide into my mouth without resisting, I could not, my body was not my own anymore… it did not listen to me, it listened to him, it was his. I sucked him as deep into my mouth as I could and without warning I felt another slap, this one a little softer than the previous one but his hand stayed on my swollen pussy lips where it landed and pushed hard against them, rubbing the spank into me and I felt my pussy clench along with my body as my orgasm rocked me.



I gasped, I sucked, I clenched my hands and dug my nails into the mattress. This man was fucking me like I have never been fucked and he has not even been inside me. When my orgasm subsided he pulled his cock out of my mouth.



“Did you enjoy that?” he asked softly. “YES” I said, too loudly, too quickly, too excitedly in all likely hood but a little laugh from him indicated he was happy with the response. Once again I found myself laying on the bed, still naked, still exposed to this man who can see all of me and of whom I have seen nothing. My mind was trying to get back to reality but he would not let me.



I felt his lips push against mine and my mouth opened to take his tongue, he kissed me deeply, passionately and intensely. He then pulled away and moved. I felt his hands gently run along the inside of my legs, slowly and sensually working their way to my swollen red pussy lips, probably glistening with my wetness which I could feel running down over my ass and forming a wet patch under me.



Suddenly I gasp as I feel something unexpected, from soft gentle fingers sliding up my leg I suddenly feel the feeling of fullness as in one fast thrust he pushes his cock all the way inside me, I gasp, my hips rise to meet his and my fingers dig into the mattress again. His thrust is hard, I feel his pelvis slam against my tender flesh, his balls slam up against my ass and in what feels like no time at all his hands have cupped my thighs and have pushed my legs back, my knees pushing up against my breasts.



His cock is so deep inside me, the feeling so intense I cum over his cock immediately. He just holds me there, his full thick manhood deep inside of me, pulsating with each heartbeat. My pussy is like a vice, gripping him deep inside me, I am moaning, gasping and wanting more. My orgasm subsides and I slowly release my death grip on his cock. I feel him start to slide in and out of me, his hands on my thighs, moving and positioning me so he can push as deep as he likes into me, my thoughts of his control is gone, my hands are on his chest, running up through his hair and he is driving me crazy with every long deep hard thrust.



He is pleasuring me but I know he is doing this more for him than me, he is using me as his fuck toy, his lover, his slut, his personal sex doll and I cum again just thinking of being used like this. His pounding is rhythmic, continuous and unforgiving. I feel orgasm after orgasm rock me and he does not stop, does not slow down and give me time to recover, he just pounds away at me. I want more, I crave more and I can’t handle more, my body twitches and I want to beg him to stop and plead him never to stop, I feel an orgasm starting to build, one that is more intense than any of the others before, I start to feel his cock start to twitch too and his grip on my thighs get stronger, letting me know his orgasm is close at hand too.



I suddenly feel his one hand let go of my thigh and I feel a burning tingling sensation as I hear the smack as his hand lands on my ass, it is too much and my orgasm takes hold of me, squeezing the thick piece of meat between my legs for all I am worth, I feel my juices start to flow, I scream and as I do I feel the warmth of his cock squirting inside of me, shooting his hot cum deep inside my quivering pussy.



He pounds in and out of me a few more times before my strong contraction pushes his cock out along with the flow of my own cum squirting all over his stomach and pulsating cock.



I feel him tug off the blindfold and the bright light of day disorientates me for a second. I look at him, he is covered in wetness from my fountain of squirt that he unleashed. His cock is semi hard, covered in a combination of our juices. He looks at me and smiles, then whispers, “clean up this mess.”



His words are hardly said and I have pulled him down and frantically started licking his cock, savouring our juices and cleaning him up. While I am at it he pulls me on top of him, ending up in a 69 position. While I suck and lick him clean he is gently licking at my swollen pussy, he is obviously not done with playing with me yet, even though I am swollen, red and sore, his tongue still feels strangely soothing.



His tongue is relentless and soon I am shivering on top of him as I cum again, making my clean up job even harder but I succeed and in the process also making him hard again, even harder than before which I did not think was possible.



He pushes me off of him and takes tow pillows and puts it in the middle of the bed. “Hands and knees over the pillows” he says softly but firmly and I obey. He takes the other two pillows and puts it under my head. “Head on the pillow, ass in the air” he says demandingly and I once again obey.



“Do you like being my little slut?” he asked and I murmur a quiet yes. I feel the sharp stinging on my ass cheek along with the all too familiar smack of his hand smacking my ass.”I can’t hear you” he replies after his hand gently caresses where it has landed. I murmur yes again, my face in the pillow, knowing this will result in another spank and it does, the other ass cheek this time. “I still can’t hear you” he whispers and this time I say nothing.



His flat hand this time lands hard between my legs, catching my ass and my swollen pussy lips. The pain is intense, but incredibly pleasurable; I scream and moan into the pillow. His hand falls again between my legs, and again, and again. And then, from out of the blue I feel something I was not expecting. His tongue pressed between my legs, licking over my now very swollen and tender pussy lips, from the first fold of skin all the way up over my pussy which is leaking it’s pleasure juices more feverously than before, pushing into my opening a little and making me gasp and them popping out again and over my asshole and up.



I then felt him get off the bed, I wanted to look up but before I could pull myself together he was back on the bed and behind me. I suddenly felt his cock slide inside my aching throbbing pussy, his thrust were painfully pleasurable and I was just starting to get use to his cock sliding in and out of me again when I felt a cool liquid run onto my asshole, I immediately tensed up which made his cock feel bigger and the pain from my tender pussy even more noticeable.



His finger slid over my tight anus and slowly worked inside, pushing more and more lube into me as he slowly loosened by tight asshole.



I had spoken to him about this, about the fantasy of being taken from behind, being taken in every hold but I have never had anal sex, this was virgin territory. I knew this might happen, I was hoping it would but now it really was and I was nervous.



He did not let me express it though, he kept on pounding my pussy and kept on working his finger in my ass, loosening me up until he slid a second finger inside me.



The feeling of his cock and his fingers inside me was incredible, something I could never imagine and never fully describe, the feeling of being so full, sore, excited, nervous, it was all too much and another orgasm hit my body. After my orgasm subsided I felt him slide out of my pussy and felt the tip of his cock push up against my tight virgin ass.



I felt more of the cold gel dripping just above the tip of his cock as he added more lube and then felt him slowly push against my asshole. I tried to relax but he was so big and as I felt him move in little by little I clenched down instinctively and he stopped, let me get use to the feeling and then pushed a little more. The head of his cock felt massive and I could feel how he stretched me like I have never felt before and then suddenly the head of his cock popped in and the stretching the head of his cock had done to my ass had loosened me up enough for most of his shaft to follow.



He just stayed there for a minute, my ass squeezing and relaxing and squeezing on him until I finally relaxed and he started sliding in and out of me with small slow strokes. The feeling was like nothing I had ever experienced before, it was a little bit sore but extremely arousing and pleasurable and soon I was pushing back against him, taking more and more of his cock until all of him slid easily in and out of me.



He pulled out of me and I felt so empty, I was ready to shout and demand him to put his cock back into my ass when I felt his fingers against my pussy, he was sliding something inside of me, not his cock, no, it was my ben-wa balls, he popped one in and then the other and my pussy clenched around them and swallowed them hole.



Then I felt his cock against my ass again. OMG, he was not being serious was he, he slowly slid the head of his cock inside my ass, far easier this time but with the ben-wa balls inside me and just the head of his cock I felt like I was going to burst I felt so full but he did not stop there, he pushed until he his cock was completely buried inside my ass, his cock filling my ass, my ben-wa balls filling my pussy.



I cried with pleasure into the pillow, muffling my screams as I felt him slowly starting to take long strokes in and out of my ass, pulling until I could feel the head of his cock about to pop out of my ass and then thrusting all the way inside of me.



The sensation was beyond words, and his thrusting got harder and faster. He added more and more lube until my ass felt so slick, his cock was like a piston, going a million miles an hour and my orgasms seem to hit one after another so rapidly that I could not tell when one ended and the next started.



His pounding was relentless until suddenly he grabbed my hips and thrust hard into my ass. I could feel the squirting of his hot cum into me, filling my ass. Once again it was a feeling I could not have expected or ever described.



He squirted and squirted until my ass had milked all of his cum and he collapsed onto the bed next to me. I lifted my head off the pillow, pulled the pillows from under me and crawled with my head over his shoulder and collapsed on top of him in his arms, my ben-wa balls still inside of me, drained, tired, wet.



I could not say anything, I could hardly move, the air was reeking of sex and everything was wet, I closed my eyes and smiled, “I want that again” I whispered before falling asleep.

I met the Love-Talker one eve in the glen,



He was handsomer than any of our handsome young men…



His lips curved, but she could never say he truly smiled. Whatever emotion deepened in his dark eyes, whatever glowed like a slow crackling fire there, it was not joy. Pleasure. Hot and demanding, slow and consuming, it was the pleasure of possession.



His name was Michael James Doyle and his was a wicked beauty. Black hair and coal-black eyes, a tall man formed in such perfect lines that she wondered if there were a geometry to explain him. The harsh plane of high cheekbones, the square jaw, the broad curve of forehead and waving black hair. Broad shoulders, trim waist, smooth brown skin over musculature of Grecian perfection. His hands, long-fingered, deft and large enough to close around her wrists and hold her irresistibly…playing coy? he asked with that smug rumble of satisfaction in his voice. He was the rock she would batter herself against.



Moonlight striped the small room through the narrow bars of the open window blinds and Michael slept, thick lashes curving over his cheeks. That sensuous mouth relaxed, his long body as loose and lazy as a cat’s. The room was bare: plaster walls, wide bed with white sheets and a simple wooden headboard, two nightstands, and the rumple of their clothes scattered over the floor.


~~oOo~~

The satin pink crotchless satin panties were so tight that they were plastered against his bottom. No wiggle room at all. He was in his usual submissive position on the cold tile. Awaiting his mistress, who was taking a shower. It would be expected that he would tongue dry her when she was done, paying special attention to her erogenous zones – his specialty!



G loved the weekends when they were able to stay in and play all day and night. Time became of no consequence, for he slept and played when Mistress Kimmie dictated it, and he was all hers for whatever she wanted. He trusted her to not go too far, but just far enough to create heightened levels of sexual pleasure! She knew what he needed, craved, desired! He knew how to keep his mistress happy too! And most days he did so, but occasionally he would purposefully misbehave because he liked to be on the receiving end of her punishment.



His thoughts were totally on her and how he would please her tonight, waiting for her to finish showering – she was taking a long hot steamy shower. That was always a good sign – relaxation for her. His cock was already straining against the satin; dripping thick sweet cum as he tried to remain still on his knees, ass up in the air, exposed and available for her pleasure. As he glanced up he noticed their toys spread out on the counter – he couldn’t help it, he shivered in anticipation! He so desperately needed a good ass pussy fucking! It had been too long since his last encounter and he was aching with need!



Mistress finally finished her shower and exited the water – smiling at him as she approached. Her hair was wet and hanging down her back, her body pink and moist from the long hot shower, dripping rivulets of water down her thighs. He eagerly awaited, wanting to lick her body; have his tongue find her moist hot spots! She went to the counter first and picked up a bright pink silky scarf – which she brought back and put it over his eyes, using it as a blindfold – never saying a word!



The excitement, the not seeing only increased his sensitivity! He could hear her but not see what she was doing. He sensed, rather than felt her near. Oh. She was lightly caressing his cheeks; he braced himself, knowing the spanking was next! Ahhh, and he was not disappointed!



She expertly spanked one cheek then the other with a stiff object, her fingers grabbing and probing with each slap. His cheeks blanched, his cock stood at attention. As the spankings stopped, he felt the warm lube as Mistress slathered it on his ass pussy. He felt it dripping down between his legs, and it felt good as she put her fingers into his sweet hole and worked them in and out – stretching him!



He shivered, unable to control his satisfaction, and began licking her damp feet, toes, ankles, and legs! He felt the plug as she placed it against his hole and played with it there, teasing him! He ached to rare back and force her to plunge it in, but knew he didn’t dare – she was Mistress and had total control.



The more Mistress played, teased him, the more he needed the plug; he couldn’t help himself as he began moaning. Mistress stilled! Oh no. He didn’t want her to stop. She moved away – but was back very soon. Mistress forced his mouth open with an open mouthed gag, large enough to open his mouth wide, yet keep him silent!



He knew Mistress hated to gag him because he could no longer tongue her, but he knew that he must learn control and that Mistress called all the shots!



Mistress fucked his ass pussy with a dildo then; slamming it balls to the wall, in and out. G still had his ass in the air; submissive position. Mistress stopped fucking his ass pussy before G wanted her too. Oh so disappointed.



Then he felt something forced into his mouth “suck it hard you slutty panty boy bitch-make me cum” he heard! He sucked with all he had as a large cock was rammed down his throat. He felt Mistress lean against him as hips gyrated against his spread mouth. His sucked hard despite the open gag, saliva running down his lips.



At that same time he was sucking hard on her cock, he felt his ass pussy being spread open again as another cock forced its way into his tight hole “take this you fucking slut – I’m fucking your pussy you hot panty slut!” was what he heard.



G had one cock in his mouth and another in his ass pussy as his mistress moved under him and began playing with his nipples; biting down and sucking, creating hard nubs. She rubbed her body all over his, taking his cock out and sucking it!



Mistress Kimmie caressed his balls as she whispered to him “do not cum my love; you will save that for me – only when I am ready!”



Oh the intense feeling of fullness, he didn’t know if he could hold back; but he would somehow do so as he had to please his mistress! He was bounced up and down and back and forth with each thrust from the cocks filling his holes.



G had spit dribbling down his face and lube running across his cheeks as each thrust speared him! He felt the cock in his mouth tense and start spurting. G greedily swallowed, knowing he mustn’t miss a drop! The cock stayed hard and gagged him as he swallowed and tongued and licked it; forcing every drop out!



The cock in his ass tightened, then pulled out of him and began spurting loads of warm sperm on his back, legs, and arms! It was so warm, so sweet smelling!



Mistress Kimmie remained under him, he felt her watching him! He sucked and licked as never before – he was aching to cum, to touch her. To please her! He needed her now!



Ah, but it was not to be. She got up; he stayed in position, knowing better than to move without her saying so. He felt Mistress put her fingers in his hole, circling, testing – and then tasting!



Ah, her hot tongue almost made him lose it – she was teasing him, testing him, and his ability to hold off. G restrained himself, and he knew it was satisfying for Mistress Kimmie because she then plugged his hole with a large vibrating plug! Ah, nice.

I was out running errands and had just stopped in at the bagel shop when I saw him. Sitting at a little table over by the front windows with a cute little blonde. Is it really him? I think I must be crazy but head over to the table after making my purchase. As I get closer I realize it definitely is him. “Jake?” I ask, stepping up to his chair and standing at an angle to the little blonde across from him, “is that you?”



“Laurie, wow, fancy seeing you here!” He smiles warmly and stands up from his chair, instantly wrapping me in a tight hug.



Very lightly returning the hug, I disentangle myself and take a couple steps back, “Yeah,” I respond, “I never would have expected to see you here, what brings you to town?”



“I’m on vacation, we’re just about” he starts to reply, the little blonde cuts him off by clearing her throat audibly, all but forgotten in the quick exchange, stopping mid-sentence he looks properly chastened and exclaims “I’m sorry, where are my manners! Laurie, this is Stacy.”



Stacy rises from her seat and extends a dainty little hand, “It’s Stacianna, actually” she corrects, tossing Jake a scalding look at his obvious blunder.



I smile politely, taking her hand in mine and saying “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” thinking to myself that this little girl could be a lot less uppity, I throw in “I’m just Laurie.”



Stacy smiles a little strained smile and immediately turns back to Jake, “We really should be going soon darling,” she purrs in some obviously fake accent.



“Oh, right, I’m sorry,” Jake replies, “we were just about to go to see that broadway show that’s playing here, what is it called…”



“Cats, it’s called Cats,” Stacy interrupts, “and you’re making us late,” she adds. Turning to me she puts on a condescending little smile and says “You really won’t mind us rushing out, will you dear? We’re just in such a hurry, it was nice meeting you Leslie.” She emphasizes the incorrect name as though to convey I’m not important enough to remember, and with that she sweeps past me and grabs Jake’s arm, all but dragging him out the door.



“Bitch,” I mutter under my breath.



A few hours later I arrive home and go looking for my husband Alec. I can’t wait to tell him about Jake and that little monster named Stacy! He’ll get such a kick out of it! I wander around the house calling his name, no response. Well he should be here, I think to myself. Heading to his office downstairs I notice a paper laying across his keyboard and walk over to pick it up.



“Dear Laurie,” it starts, “I had an emergency trip come up and won’t be back until Sunday. Sorry I couldn’t wait until you got home, I tried to call you but you didn’t answer. I hope you understand, we had a major server meltdown. I’ll try to call but don’t worry if I don’t, I’m not sure what kind of service I’ll get and the location is high security so they don’t allow personal calls from inside the building. See you Sunday!”



Well that’s odd, I think, he always calls, and he never leaves without saying goodbye. Must be some emergency! But no calls? In six years he’s never not been able to call… My mind wanders a little but is interrupted by the phone ringing. Rushing back upstairs I quickly grab it, I’m sure it’s Alec calling to explain, without checking caller ID I exclaim “Hi baby! I was sure you’d call, what’s going on?”



“Baby, huh?” I hear Jake’s voice say, “I thought you might have missed me but I didn’t think we were on ‘baby’ terms,” he says with a chuckle, quickly he adds, “yet.”



Feeling deflated I lamely respond, “Sorry, I thought you were Alec.”



“Who’s Alec?” He asks.



“My husband,” I reply in an unenthusiastic tone, “where did you get my number, and why are you calling?”



“Sorry, I looked you up in the white pages. I just wanted to apologize for Stacy,” Jake says with a sigh into the phone, “I felt really bad about how we rushed out like that, she can be so difficult, I don’t know why I put up with her.”



“Difficult?” I scoff, “I was difficult, she was downright rude!”



“You were never difficult,” he replies softly, “you were perfect. And seeing you today just made me think how stupid I was for letting you go. You look fantastic!”



“You didn’t let me go,” I correct, “you fucked someone else. Little difference there.” I toss in off-handedly, “Deal breaker and all, you know how it is.”



Jake sighs and says, “I really am sorry, to this day I don’t know why I did that to you. I didn’t even enjoy myself, I was just angry and I wanted you to hurt. I’m sorry.” He adds, “can’t even let it go after ten years?”



“We were young and dumb Jake, and that’s the beauty of divorce, I was able to stop caring nine years ago!” I say with a chuckle.



“You stopped caring?” He asks, sounding genuinely shocked, “how can you just stop caring? I never stopped caring about you,” he adds.



“Look Jake,” I say with a sigh, “that was a long time ago, I have a wonderful husband and a wonderful life, there’s no point in rehashing old feelings and what ifs. It’s the past. It’s over. Just leave it there.” Realizing I may sound a bit harsh I add, “I don’t hold it against you, I told you I forgave you and I meant it. We all make mistakes, and I’m sure the whole experience taught us both a lot. So anyway, tell me about you now, it’s been a long time!” I hope my attempt to change the subject works.



“It has been a long time, hasn’t it?” Jake asks almost wistfully, “I’ve been doing well, running my own business now, able to take fancy vacations,” he chuckles, “and overall I have to admit I’m doing very well.”



“That’s really great to hear!” I exclaim, “I’m glad life’s been good to you, personally I couldn’t be happier. Well, except if my husband would actually call.”



“Why wouldn’t he?” Jake asks.



“He’s on some emergency trip for work,” I reply, “he handles some major accounts for his company and if anything goes wrong he’s responsible for getting it fixed.”



“When’s he coming back?” Jake adds quickly, “not that it’s any of my business, but if you aren’t busy I thought you might want to grab coffee and just catch up a little.”



Thinking nothing of it, I reply, “He’s back on Sunday, so I’ll be free this evening and tomorrow.”



“And coffee?” He asks.



I chuckle, “Sure, I suppose it can’t hurt to catch up a little.” At least it’ll help kill some time, I think to myself.



We make plans to go out that evening and just talk for a bit, I am a little curious how life turned out for him and considering there is zero attraction, I hope not just on my part, I don’t think I have anything to worry about. Besides, he has a girlfriend so he’ll behave, I remind myself.



While getting ready I keep glancing at the phone, willing it to ring. I really wish Alec would call, I miss him. In six years of marriage I’ve never had to go more than a day without hearing from him, even when he did have emergency projects. I sigh as I take a turtleneck sweater out of my closet. I guess I should feel lucky, I think, I’ve been married six years and I’m still just as lovestruck as I was the day I realized I wanted to spend my life with him. And I know I can trust him, so I really shouldn’t worry. Determined to put it out of my mind and have some fun to pass the time, I continue dressing. With the lavender sweater I decide on a pair of grey slacks. Very conservative and no skin showing. Perfect to make sure Jake doesn’t get any ideas. While I may be sure he won’t try anything, some of the things he said on the phone earlier keep popping back into my head. I don’t want to leave any doubt that this is purely platonic.



We meet at a little coffee shop on Main Street. The city has a lovely array of lights strung through the trees and this little shop is my favorite. It’s a cozy little place between a boutique and an ice cream shop. The decor is warm and inviting with big overstuffed chairs, little coffee tables, and walls of bookshelves. There are also some traditional tables and chairs out front on the sidewalk and I suggest we sit at one. The night air is a little chilly but definitely not cold, and the white lights in the trees are just so pretty.



“Alec and I come here a lot,” I mention as I point to the menu, “I’ve tried just about all their coffee drinks, so if you want to know how something is just ask!”



Jake picks up the menu and replies, “I sure will, do they make a good caramel mocha?”



“I’m sure they do, that’s one I haven’t tried,” I add, “I prefer a sugar free vanilla latte myself, have to watch my figure you know.” He glances at me strangely and goes back to his menu. “What?” I ask.



“Nothing, was gonna say your figure looks pretty good to me,” he says with a smirk.



“Hey, none of that now!” I exclaim in mock outrage, “If you start being flirty or inappropriate I won’t be able to talk to you!” For Jake that was his normal flirty self, but I want him to be clear on the ground rules.



“Sorry,” he says with a wink, “I just can’t help myself!”



“Well try,” I reply, as the barista comes out to get our order.



We spent the next couple hours in pleasant conversation, catching up on what he’s been up to over the years, and a bit about how I’ve been. We came to the conclusion that while I’ve stayed relatively steady in my beliefs and desires, his have changed dramatically. Gone is the irresponsible kid with the devil-may-care attitude, and in his place is an actual adult. We end the night and I agree to meet him for lunch the next day. He’ll only be in town a couple more days so I figure it’s probably the only time I’ll see him anyway. It’s not like he’s someone I’d actively try to stay in contact with.



I arrive back home and immediately go check the house phone for missed calls. None. I sigh and pout a little, rechecking my cell phone to be sure I didn’t miss hearing it ring. Still nothing. Oh well, he’s probably asleep by now or busy at work. “I’m sure he’ll call in the morning,” I think out loud.



Saturday afternoon and still no call. At this point I’m a little worried, this is so unlike Alec. I’m sure there’s a reason and everything’s fine, I tell myself. 2:00 rolls around and I just finished getting ready to go out for lunch. I hear the doorbell ring, funny, I wasn’t expecting anyone. I answer it and it’s Jake. “What are you doing here?” I ask.



“Well I got your address when I got your phone number,” he says, “and I thought we could take one car being as you know the area a lot better and know where we should go.”



“Fine, let me grab my purse,” I say with a little irritation in my voice, shutting the door in his face. I can’t help but feel a little amused by the stunned look on his face that I caught a glimpse of as the door shut. Priceless. Grabbing my purse I head back to the door and walk out. “Hop in,” I say, clicking the doors open on my car. I drive us over to a little sub shop thinking we can make it a quick bite. I’m a little uncomfortable with the fact that he just showed up at my house. What would Alec think?



Despite the rough beginning we have a good time at lunch, chatting and almost becoming friends again. He holds the door for me as we leave, something he never did when we were together, and asks if I’d like to do something later. “I really shouldn’t,” I respond.



“Why not?” He asks, “do you have other plans already?”



“No,” I say, pausing to climb into the drivers seat of my car, “I just don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”



“Oh, I see, afraid I can’t take rejection huh!” He says with mock sincerity.



I roll my eyes and reply, “No, I actually don’t care if you can or not. I just don’t like the way it looks. Especially when you just show up at my house unannounced.”



He shrugs, “Can’t a guy try? It’s not like I’ll get to see you again, and I’ve always wondered what would happen if we could try again.” I sigh, this is exactly what I didn’t want.



“Like I said,” I reply slowly, “I’m very happy. I am not interested in bringing up the past or exploring what ifs.”



“Ok,” he replies dejectedly, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”



We drive back to my place in silence, and as I pull into the driveway Jake asks if he can use the restroom before he leaves. I’m skeptical and tell him he could go down the street to the gas station. He looks at me with a mixture of hurt and disbelief on his face.



“I thought you were a friend,” he says, “I can’t even use the restroom? I promise I won’t do anything but go in and come right back out.”



“Sorry, of course you can,” I reply, feeling a little embarrassed. I just felt uneasy about letting him into my house.



We head inside and I point him downstairs. “Bathroom’s down there to the left,” I say. While I’m standing on the landing waiting to shoo him back out when he’s finished, I hear noises coming from upstairs. I peek into the garage real quick and see Alec’s car. He’s home! I rush upstairs and notice the double doors to our master bedroom are open. As I rush up I stop dead in my tracks at the top of the stairs. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Stacy, the little bitch who was with Jake, is naked on her hands and knees on MY bed. Her pert little ass hanging off the foot of the bed with my husband Alec standing behind her, cock in hand, inching closer to her pussy. I back slowly down the stairs, not wanting them to see me or hear me, stunned hurt blatant on my face. I rush back downstairs just as Jake is coming up from the bathroom. Right then the tears start streaming down my face and Jake rushes over and hugs me, asking me whats wrong.



I’m sobbing and he guides me back downstairs and sits me on a chair, I can hear the noises coming from upstairs even from here, and he hears them too. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” Jake says.



“Find out like what?” I sob.



“I know it’s Stacy up there with him,” he says, “I’ve known she was cheating on me for a while. She lives around here and I don’t get to come into town as often as I would have liked, she got bored.” I look at him in stunned disbelief. He continues, “I found a man’s wallet in her room once, a couple months ago, it had an ID, some business cards…And a picture of you in it.”



“What… are… you… saying?” I ask between bouts of hyperventilated crying.



“Alec has been cheating on you with Stacy for months now,” Jake replies slowly, “I set this up today because I knew they’d be here, that’s why I came to your house. I thought you needed to know.”



“How?” I reply miserably.



“Stacy told me she’d be gone today at the spa,” Jake begins, “that’s what she always tells me when she’s with him. So I told her I was taking you out anyway and we wouldn’t be back until at least 10:00 tonight. She knew I was suspicious since I found that wallet, so I figured she would probably meet him here, not wanting to risk me dropping in on her at her place. And when you told me he was out of town yesterday I was sure of it.”



“I can’t deal with this,” I say, much more calmly than I feel. Getting up I walk toward the stairs and Jake makes to follow me. “NO!” I almost shout, “you stay here.”



I make my way upstairs and toward the open doors of our master bedroom. I see Alec behind Stacy, his cock buried inside her as she mewls in pleasure. I keep moving toward the door, stopping when I reach the doorway and just standing there, taking in the scene in front of me. Stacy is obviously in the throes of ecstasy as Alec’s big thick cock pummels into her pussy, glistening with her juices as it pulls out before plunging back in. Stacy calling out obscenities and egging him on to fuck her harder. Turning her head to the side Stacy looks right at me and says to Alec, “You like that don’t you baby? You like how much better I feel than that bitchy wife of yours, tell me you like it, make me cum again you stud!” At that moment Alec turns his head and sees me, stopping mid thrust as he just stares, a look of pain and loss on his face.



I can’t take it and turn around and rush down the hall, away from the scene I just witnessed. I slump to the floor in heaving sobs before I reach the stairs, leaning back against the wall and just trying to push the pain down, trying to shut it off because it just hurts so much. How could he do this to me? How? I love him! I tried to keep him happy, was I really that bad? Did I never make him happy? What’s wrong with me? Why does this always happen? How could he do this to me! My mind keeps racing around and around. Get under control. CONTROL YOURSELF! Stop acting like a baby. Push it down. Stop crying! STOP! He fucked you over, they always fuck you over, you knew it would happen eventually. But no, you had to trust, you did this to yourself! You always do this to yourself! I keep sobbing as my inner monologue runs its course, chastising myself for my idiocy yet again. No… Wait… He was crying! I saw tears when he looked at me… Why would he be crying? He didn’t know I was there long enough to be crying!



I have to know. Getting up, I walk back to the room, forcing my emotions under control, shutting down and doing what I do best, going cold. I walk into the room, right up to Alec. He stops fucking the little bitch on the bed and stares at me. Those are definitely tears on his face. And not tears that just started. “Why?” I ask. He pulls away from her and breaks down, babbling about no choice and hoping I’ll be happy. Stacy is obviously pissed and gets up and in my face, her little 5ft looking up at me as she yells.



“You stupid bitch! Why are you still here? He doesn’t want you! He’s cheating on you with ME! Can’t you take a hint?” She rants as he looks pleadingly at me, “you’re not enough for him, you’ve never been enough, he’ll never want you after having me, get used to being second best!” She all but spits at me with the venom coming through her tone.



“Is that true?” I ask, looking right at Alec. His eyes and posture say no, but he doesn’t say a word. I walk up to him, wipe the tears off his face and kiss him softly. “Is that true?” I repeat. He closes his eyes and sighs deeply, putting his arms around me and pulling me hard against him.



“No, no, no, it isn’t true,” he whispers against my ear, “they said they’d kill you, they said it was either stage this or they’d kill you and there would be no way I could stop it.” Alec is babbling now, continuing on as the story pours out, “they said if I did this you’d be safe with him, I wouldn’t have you,” he chokes out, “but you’d be safe and happy. They showed me plans of how they would do it, pictures of you at work, on errands, where you shopped, where they could put a sniper, how easy a shot it was…” Alec trails off as I shush him.



“Well she’s dead now you dumb fuck,” Stacy says from behind us. I’d almost forgotten she was there. “Just you wait, wait until Jake finds out you told her, he’ll kill her right in front of you and make it nice and slow so you can enjoy it!”



I whisper to Alec, “Get the rope, slowly.” We kept some rope in the bedroom for interesting trips into bondage play, and boy was I happy we did right at this moment. I turn very slowly on Stacy and look at her, my face a mask, completely devoid of emotion. She just smirks at me in triumph.



“So bitch, what’re you gonna do? You can either leave this worthless fuck and go be Jake’s little pet, or you can die right in front of your poor husband. Tick tock, tick tock, whatcha-gonna-do,” she chants in a singsong manner.



“Well I guess I only have one choice,” I say with a sigh. Stacy grins triumphantly, oblivious to the fact that I’ve edged closer. Right as she’s opening her mouth to respond, I punch her square in the face, feeling a very satisfying connection and a blossoming of pain through my hand and wrist as she falls back on the bed. Losing no time I pounce on her immediately, grabbing a pillow and holding it over her face so she can’t make any noise. “Rope, now!” I say to Alec, he quickly hands me the rope, “tie her legs together, quick, and make it tight!” I say, as I use my weight to pin the pillow to her face and wrench her hands up and out so I can bind them. Quickly tying them securely I bark “Gag, please!” Alec hands me the ball gag I kept for fun and I quickly remove the pillow from Stacy’s face and shove the gag into her mouth as she gasps for air. Flipping her slight little body over easily, I secure it tightly behind her head. Satisfied that she won’t be making any noise or getting away, I tell Alec to watch her and head out the door and back downstairs.

The world of fast cars is a dangerous one because, as they say, speed kills. It might even be argued that those who own fast cars are themselves dangerous, the reason being that they obviously intend to go fast in them and do all sorts of dangerous and generally stupid things. The police definitely feel this way, judging by how much extra attention they pay to any car that even looks fast, and the general public aren’t that much impressed with them, or the people like me who pilot them, either. After what I saw that late May evening, I have to say that I can understand their feelings.



It happened when I was finally leaving work for the night, having just walked out the front door as the last agent on site with the night shift Floor Manager, Dagmar Alejandro. I’d been working overtime with a few other sales reps, busily cold-calling Americans and trying to separate them from their hard earned money by tempting them with accidental death and dismemberment insurance at less than ten dollars per month, first ninety days free with no commitment whatsoever. (yeah, right, and my name isn’t David Legassy, just try to cancel this shit, lady) I heard the car coming, knew it was a muscle car by its exhaust note and quickly building RPMs, and jerked my head to the right to check it out.



It was a red Mustang, really cranking nicely and sounding damned good at the top of its power band, flying up the recently widened and resurfaced Barling St.. I watched it with a growing smile, forgetting that the beautiful bitch from hell was there with me. With tunnel vision, I followed its path around the slight, blind, uphill bend in front of the call center. I figure its driver and I saw Kelly Preston, a fellow agent at the crosswalk, at about the same time. I don’t think Kelly saw anything at all before the Mustang ran her down without stopping, or even slowing afterwards.



We both just stood for a moment as the red killer sped off in the distance, Dagmar probably wondering if that really happened like I was, whilst the petit Kelly’s broken and inert form in the middle of the road constantly insisted it had. Somewhere inside I wanted to yell, cry and throw up all at the same time while I only stood, completely stunned.



Dagmar was the first one to move. She broke into a run and, despite her voluptuous build, sped across the front lawn while franticly digging out her cell phone. Then I moved. I walked down the driveway and towards the back parking lot where my car was parked. Why? I didn’t want to be involved.



That’s right. I’d made an entire life of being uninvolved up to that point, keeping to myself and making money, serving myself and hurting nobody and, furthermore, I knew there was nothing to be done. She was dead, anybody could tell that and I didn’t want to see it up close. I didn’t want to and I didn’t need to. Besides, Dagmar was there with her cell phone and it’s not as if I knew CPR or anything. It had nothing to do with me and I just wanted to go home. I know how that makes me sound but, I assure you, I’m not that cold and uncaring, at least I don’t think so. It’s just that, as I say, I was uninvolved and that’s how I wanted to stay.



—– —– —– —–



“Dagmar would like to see you.” Sally the Supervisor whispered with a smile as she looked down over the top of my cubicle at me.



Why she found it necessary to whisper, who could say? She was always whispering with that stupid smile. Nodding optimistically, as if there was anything to be optimistic about when talking to Dagmar, she was off, a little whirlwind of positive productivity. I glanced at her ass as she walked down the aisle, the only positive thing about her in my eyes, logged off, removed my headphones and stood. The sound of just over three hundred people doing their damndest to keep their jobs, maybe even earning some sales bonus Dollars in the process, inundated me without the semi-soundproofed cubicle and I began heading down the long aisle towards Dagmar’s office.



Of course, I knew what this was about.



The first time I saw Dagmar Alejandro was during the third night of my week long training class, when I’d first secured the job just over a year previously. She walked in the room wearing a black business suit with a tight skirt that stopped just above her knees. A lot of men would have been put off by the height and size of the woman who, I guessed, was in her very early forties, if not the ‘all business’ expression that seemed to never leave her face, but she captured my attention right away. My impression of her was that of a goddess. Her complexion was dark and I guessed, judging by her last name, that her gene pool consisted of a mixture of African and Spanish, the latter being the dominant. Her hair, long and jet black, was put up in such a way as some could still hang down at her shoulders with one stray lock dangling at the side of her face, as if attracting attention to her eyes, not that they needed it. They were brilliant green and attracted me like I’ve been attracted to very few women, but it wasn’t just the colour, it was also the way they scanned the room, coldly, harshly appraising everyone present, including the instructor.



It’s hard to describe that first reaction. I mean, I can say she was a goddess in my eyes, but it was more than that, more than just her physical appearance. She had a sort of powerful strength of personality about her, intelligent and uncompromising. The very impression she made on me seemed like an invisible extension of herself.



Those eyes caught mine before I could stop staring at her, before I could get over the funny feeling that popped up behind my sternum at the sight of her and we regarded one another for a moment. Her expression unwavering, she held my eyes as if daring me not to look away while the instructor was introducing her to the class.



I looked down, pretending to study the material in front of me, putting on a small frown of concentration as I looked at the people around me peripherally. They all seemed to take her seriously enough, alright, but none of them seemed completely taken aback by her like I was.



She addressed the class and I watched her again, listening to a voice which matched her demeanor, as strong and powerful as she was beautiful. Her eyes kept returning to me and I had to look down every time. What was it about her, anyway? I’d never been especially great with people, but this was ridiculous. After all, I’d learned to be a decent actor by the age of thirty-one, and I wasn’t often put off by anybody. People were just herd animals to me.



In time, I began hearing the stories of what she was like. ‘ Tough’, ‘mean’, ‘bitchy’, ‘cold’, ‘heartless’ and ‘domineering’ were only some of the words I’d often heard used to describe her. I’d even watched her personally escort several ‘non performers’, as she would refer to them, right out the front door in the year and three months I worked there.



But, by that time, I’d learned my job well. Very well. And in the telemarketing game, the numbers that are generated from the bottom make everyone look good, right on up the ladder. Yeah, they liked me a whole lot, especially Sally, and this was what insulated me from Dagmar’s teeth and claws. Good thing, too, because ever since that first day, we never got along. Not that anyone really got along with Dagmar, but she seemed to have some special dislike of me that I could never quite understand. By the time my sales record made it unnecessary to worry about her anymore, I’d decided that she was a lesbo and hated men, or she thought I was a lowlife, or whatever. In the end, I just decided to try to ignore her and her beautiful, larger than life presence.





Dagmar Alejandro

Floor Manager





One couldn’t help but notice that she was the only one on the management team whose door bore a polished black nameplate with red letters, the rest having a plastic wood grain plate with white letters.



I knocked.



“Come in!” she commanded in her usual bitchy, uppity tone that everyone had come to just love her for.



I did as commanded, a little nervous about what she’d think of me after I just took off the night before. She sat behind her desk with a strangely blank expression and wore the usual business suit that she always looked great in, if a little pretentious and overdone.



“Have a seat.” she said, gesturing to the chair opposite her desk.



I took it and said, “Look, I’m sorry I took off last night. I just didn’t want to see,… that.”



She only regarded me with the same unreadable expression. She was reading me, I suddenly realized, reminding myself to be careful here. She and her people had taught me half of what I knew about dealing with others. I waited for her to say something, but she didn’t.



“Uhh, look, I said I was sorry. I didn’t mean to stick you with that, but you had your phone and, even if I knew CPR, it wouldn’t have done any,… any good, cause she,…”



Why wouldn’t she say something? This was starting to freak me out more than a little when she finally decided to speak.



“David Legassy.”, she said, stating my name as if for the record. “Whatever will you do?”



“Huh?”



“What would they all think out there if they knew?” she asked.



I hesitated, mouth half open, and cocked my head curiously before replying with, “What are you talking about?”



“Your little accident last night?”



Now it was my turn to regard her in silence. What in hell was this?



She took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh, smiling ever so little as she began to explain.



They didn’t catch the driver, as you obviously know. No leads, either. Of course, we know who it was.”, she said, lifting the blotter on her desk and removing two Polaroid pictures from beneath it, tossing them across the desk to me. “The question is, should I tell anyone?”



They were pictures of the front of my Chevy Monza, complete with the license plate. Except the paint was cracked and broken on the flexible rubber front clip and one of the headlights was broken. There were blood smears there and on the dented hood and driver’s side windshield. At the bottom of the pictures, on the wide paper strip, was printed in fine black marker, ‘Kelly Preston’, with yesterday’s date.



“The ones the police will receive will come in an envelope that also includes a cloth soaked in Kelly’s blood.” she informed me, leaning back and casually crossing her legs.



“What?” I asked, looking from the pictures to her, back to the pictures and then to her again as I started to get her awful point.



“Nobody will be surprised, either. Not with how you peel out of that back lot every night. You’re reckless. Something like this was bound to happen, sooner or later.”



I couldn’t say anything. I stared at her, totally speechless, trying to make sure this was actually real, that she was pinning this on me. It had to be some sort of twisted joke.



“This has to be some sorta twisted joke, right?”



“You honestly think I’d go to the trouble of vandalizing your car and planting evidence just for a joke?”







My mouth opened, but nothing came out. This couldn’t be happening. Why would anyone do something like this? This just couldn’t be.



“You,…”



“Yes, David?”



“You can’t do,… this! I didn’t hit her! What are you trying to do to me!?”



“I’d keep your voice down if I were you.” she said, green eyes flashing with dark humor. “Attention is the last thing you want right now. As for what I’m doing to you, quite simply, I’m putting you in your place.”



I shook my head, sure this had to be some wacky dream.



“You should see the look on your face.” she said conversationally, smiling a little wider as though we were two friends sharing a joke. “It looks good on you, too, after the way you’ve been strutting around like you own the place. Breaking dress code, deviating from script no matter how many times I’d tell you to stop doing that, taking twice the amount of sick days, taking your own little unscheduled breaks,… The list goes on and on, David. And you sail right through, don’t you? You know how many people above you look good on account of the numbers you generate. You know everyone looks the other way for you and you don’t stop to think for one second that I’m the one ultimately responsible for your behavior. You’re nothing. Nothing but an opportunistic, cocky, arrogant little punk with a rotten attitude who thinks he can fly in the face of my authority. And now I’m going to very much enjoy putting an end to you.



I couldn’t argue any of that, as it was essentially all true. She leaned back in her chair and went on speaking, looking up at the ceiling as if reminiscent.



“Yes, you’re right. There was nothing to be done for poor Kelly. But you know, as good as she was on the phones, she was an even better blood donor. I’ll have to send her family a little something special,…”



She suddenly leaned forward again, resting her forearms on her desk and fixing me with a predatorial smile, telling me in a reassuring tone, “I haven’t called the police yet because I wanted the chance to let you know it was me who delivered you to the wolves.”



“How nice for me.”, I said in a hollow tone, trying to grapple with this, still unable to quite accept that she was really doing this to me.



“A lot better for me.”, she replied with a small laugh. “Oh yes, very much so. Knowing I could ruin you,…”



(Could ruin me?)



A small hope bloomed inside me and I wondered if it wasn’t merely a false hope that she seemed to dangle there for her amusement.



“I wonder,… Would you be willing to beg for my mercy? I mean, right down on the floor here, on your knees with your hands clasped- no, I think I’d rather you clutching at the hem of my skirt.”



She laughed out loud at this, then asked, “So what about it?”



“You’re crazy.” I informed her, feeling anger finally rising to take over the vacant driver’s seat.



“You’d be surprised at how many people have told me that. Especially men. I rather enjoy bringing men down, you know. I suppose, to your limited mentality, it would seem crazy, however, from my perspective, it’s really just some light entertainment provided by people who should have been bright enough to respect me.



“But I never did anything to deserve this!” I grated. “How can you,…? No! No, you can’t! I’ll go to jail for something I didn’t even fuckin’ do, how can you do that to me!?”



“Hmm. A little late for that now, don’t you think? I mean, after all this time disrespecting me? If you’d been my friend, if you’d respected me, this wouldn’t be happening now.”



She held my eyes fast while I tried to figure a way out of this mess. But how? She’d manufactured evidence and,… Oh God, the damned car had to be sitting in the back lot like that right then! She’d probably done it on the last break and I had to get the hell down there and- How many people had already seen it!?



“Ah, but you were too much of an arrogant little dog to be my friend, to pay me the respect I deserve and to cooperate with me, weren’t you? And look what it got you. Again, I ask: Are you willing to beg me? Properly?”



I sensed she was standing at the head of some winding, twisted little garden path of her making while the deep blue sea awaited just beneath my heels.



“Would it do any good?” I asked her, glowering.



“You’ll never know if you don’t try, will you? But, if you use your head, you’ll see it’s a lot better to try and fail than to let your pride stop you. Just think how that will feel in the slammer. You’d never forgive yourself, would you? Especially not while your cellmate is forcing his cock up that cute little ass every night. I don’t know, David, what do you think?” she asked me, facetiously thoughtful. “Do you have anything left to lose at this point?”



So, there it was. The invitation to step fully onto her garden path had been properly offered and she had every right to expect me to take it. I stared across the desk at her, desperately thinking, trying to see a way out of this, remembering those recent speeding and dangerous driving tickets that would be on my record. The longer the crime went unsolved, the more willing the police and everyone else on the planet would be to believe in Dagmar’s little ‘care package’, and I simply had no hand that I could see at the present time.



I slumped forward, resting my elbows on the arms of the chair, face in my palms if only so that I could think without having to look at her triumphant smile as she reclined again, looking at me while tapping a pencil on her blotter.



I’d even subtly insulted a few cops when I knew I could get away with it. They hated me, they’d be so willing to crucify me. If I ran to them now and counted on them to straighten this out, they’d only help Alejendro to railroad me all the quicker. The game had started before I ever realized. Now it was over and I’d lost. Even if she yanked it away at the last minute, I had to make a grab for that life preserver she’d thrown. I had to try to save myself in this little room where my life had suddenly gone to hell in a handcart in a matter of minutes through absolutely no fault of my own. I tried to swallow my anger, washing it down with as much pride as I could.



I looked up at her as I dutifully rose from my chair. She was still smiling that damned smile while I went around to her side of the desk as she swiveled in her chair, her green eyes flashing in pleasure at the prospect of what she knew I was about to do. I looked down at the carpet as I fell to my knees before her, praying nobody would walk in on this degrading little scene. Closing my eyes, I began.



“Dagmar-”



“Look at me when you beg like the little dog you are. And remember the hem.”



It was a lot harder to ignore that comment than it would have been to kill her right then. I looked up, opened my eyes, took the hem of her skirt in my hand and began again in a wavery voice that I hoped sounded more sincere than hateful.



“Dagmar,… Please, please don’t do this to me? I’m sorry I disrespected you. I,… I regret that totally and I see that you’re nobody to fuck around with and-”



“More feeling.”



” … And I’m so regretful that I didn’t cooperate with you like I should have, I continued with more feeling. “I should have seen what side my bread was buttered on and did what a good dog should.”



It killed me, but I knew it was my best shot.



She only stared at me with that smile before answering, “Very good. Yet, so predictable. I knew you’d do it, you know, just like I know that you only say it because you need me on your side now. And what am I supposed to think of that?”



She suddenly grabbed me by the shirt front and hauled me up and forward, closer to her until her face was inches away from mine and I could smell her perfume, actually a very nice fragrance that didn’t really help me to feel better about the situation at all.



“Well? What am I supposed to think of that?”



“Well, I- uh, I guess it’s pretty cheap of me now, but-”



“Cheap? You’re not even getting in on the ground floor with me, boy! More like the wrong foot! If you want to be forgiven, if you want me to spare the next eight to ten years of your life, you’d better accept that you have a lot to make up for!”



“Yes, I’m willing to-!”



“Shut up, boy!”



As I shut up, constantly worrying about my car out in the lot and with a very great need to get out there, I was mortified to feel my manhood actually twitch. A small part of my mind uncertainly shrilled that it was nothing, but the rest of my mind was too busy to listen. Things got even worse as she went on like a nightmare that one can’t wake oneself from.



“How many times have we passed one another out on the floor? Out in the hall, or in the parking lot? I’d look right at you, maybe thinking I’d be nice enough to say hello to you, but you just waltzed right on by as if I didn’t even exist every time. As if I were invisible! Pretending not to notice me like I’m some pattern on the wallpaper and now you want my mercy!?”

“Dagmar, please, I was stupid” (Ohmigod, she’s nuts, she’s nuts somebody get me outta this!!) “and rude, please don’t do it, please give me another chance!”, I begged, no longer acting now.



“And for what reason would I- … Ha. Heh, heh! Oh, David. I knew it.”, she sneered, at least a little good humouredly now, while looking at the lump in my pants. “Oh yes, I did, boy. I know your type a mile away and I knew it of you from the first time I saw you.”



I flushed, turning red as a beet to the sound of her low, dangerously sultry laughter. I couldn’t speak at all now. I was completely humiliated and at her mercy, and all I wanted to do was just get out of her lair while I still had anything left to me at all. It seemed impossible at the time that, only a half hour ago, my biggest concern was topping the team sales board again.



“You just bought yourself a reprieve, boy.” she said, letting me go and sitting back in her chair again. “Go sit back down.”



I did as she said, still red faced and not knowing who I should hate more, her or myself. I was even ashamed of the hope I felt at this ‘reprieve’ she’d so generously granted me.



She started writing something on a stickit pad, ripping it off when she was done with it and reaching over her desk to slap it on the front of my shirt.



“I’m bound to have questions later on about you during your reprieve. I think it would be in your best interest to be there to answer them.”



I peeled the stickit off my shirt tentatively, as if it could bite, and noted the floral background print along with her initials that artistically formed a black and red rose, complete with thorns, in the upper left hand corner. She’d written an address and a time.



“I expect you to be punctual, clean and dressed in decent, clean clothing and you will be respectful. I will not have some stupid, stinking dog in my home, do I make myself perfectly clear?”



Thinking of dead Kelley, five to ten years in a maximum security prison and my ever greater desire to get my car the hell out of there, I answered, “Yes, Ma’am.”







Hell, I’d have told her any damned thing at that point.



“Then, go. I’m finished with you for now and, if you have a brain in your head, you’ll know you have something that you really should attend to. Hm?”



I tried not to leap from the chair and scramble desperately for the door, praying she wouldn’t change her mind and decide to hold me there longer, prolonging whatever in hell it was that she just did to me. I prayed she wouldn’t say she was calling the cops after all and that my reprieve was all just a joke to fuck with my head and ha, ha, what an idiot I was,…!



I suddenly found myself outside her closed door, back in the din of a few hundred people yapping on the phone all at once. I noticed the fluorescents humming for some reason, I suppose appreciating the normalcy that seemed gone from me now. Some flunky who looked like he couldn’t sell a campfire to a freezing man did a double take at the sight of me, faltering badly in his already poorly orated script.



I pulled myself together the best I could, remembering that I had a job to do. I began walking quickly through the aisles with my head down, keeping my mind centered on what came next and praying the cops weren’t already nosing around the back lot.



I finally reached my cubicle but, instead of sitting down, I quickly grabbed my stuff, dumping it into my binder along with my headphones before zippering it closed. Sally walked up with a concerned look on her face as I was hastily throwing my old battered, black Levis jean jacket on.



“Is there someth-”



“I gotta go.” I blurted, rudely cutting her off. “I’m sorry, but I just have to and there’s no,… It’s a family thing, I gotta,…”



“Okay, but,…”, she trailed off, not liking the fact that her heavy hitter was leaving before the shift was even halfway through.



“Look, I got no choice.” I called over my shoulder. “Please don’t fire me, but I gotta go even if you do.”, I finished, rushing for the outer hall and the stairs that would take me down to the back parking lot.



It wasn’t some camera trick, the crazy bitch had actually done it. I could see it all, even in the dark. I glanced furtively around, super paranoid of cops while quickly unlocking the door. Firing my binder into the darkened recesses of the back seat, I threw myself inside, slamming the door shut after me. In my freaked out state, I dropped the keys twice before I managed to get it started with what I hoped was a quiet roar. I remember being actually surprised to make it out of the lot without being suddenly swarmed by police cars as soon as I engaged the clutch.







I felt just a little better when I finished pressure washing the car at the nearest Canwash, nosed into the bay of course. I whipped my shirt off and threw my jacket over my bare back, thoroughly scrubbing everywhere until the shirt was ruined, dousing everything in high pressure hot water and industrial strength suds again afterward.



I felt a little better still when I was able to make Canadian Tire before they closed, paying cash for a new headlight with an unfounded fear that the cops would be there watching the headlight aisle as my paranoia made me see blame and accusation on every strange face that set eyes on me.



I made it home, a dilapidated old mobile trailer sitting parallel with the lonely, rural road, the driveway curving around back to an equally dilapidated garage. I rushed the car into the garage that I called ‘The Shack’, pulled the door down behind it and bolted for the other shack that I called my house. In the kitchen, I dropped the cap from the bottle I kept in the cupboard and dumped enough whiskey down my gullet in one shot that I almost puked it all back up again.



A minute later, after sliding down to the floor in hopes of maybe seeing the lost cap down there somewhere, I relaxed some more. I had to focus, had to get things in some kind of perspective. The first order of business was to finish off the car.



I went back out and began working quickly, removing the hood to begin filling the dent. After finally getting the stretched sheet metal to stop popping up and down, I filled and sanded, primed and painted the hood black, as I didn’t have any bright orange that matched my car. This posed a problem for the header panel. I managed to mix something pretty close, though, and blended it so that the colour change happened at corners and edges and could hide a little bit in the way the light would play over the car’s surfaces. After installing the new headlight, I locked the garage down for the night, actually congratulating myself on how fast I got the job done, and rushed back inside to get cleaned up in time to reach Dagmar Alejandro’s place, punctually as told.



Trying to finger-comb the rain out of my hair, I scanned the buzzer board in the locked front entry of Dagmar’s condominium tower at twelve fifty-nine AM. I was looking for the button to PH5 as two seniors inside the the dimly lit lobby eyed me suspiciously. Finding it, I pressed the button and angrily whipped the rainwater from my hand to the floor while waiting for a response.



This time I was ready, I knew what to expect and my confidence had been shored up by some pizza that I heated up in my microwave oven before I left, my quick success with the car and, of course, the whiskey. She wouldn’t get the better of me this time. She just couldn’t run around doing this shit to people, least of all me. I mean, who in hell did she think she was? She may have had me at the time, and I was even willing to admit to that if need be, but I’d find wiggle room. I always did, one way or another.



“Hello?” her confident voice answered.



“It’s me.”



“And who’s ‘me’?”, she demanded.



“Me, me!” I almost yelled at the little speaker in the console. “What, are you expecting a fuckin’ milk delivery this time of night?”



There was a short pause before she spoke again, more than demanding now.



“You had better leave that attitude right down there in that lobby, mister! Let’s not forget who’s holding the cards! Understand!?



“Yes!” I grated.



“Get your skinny ass up here now!”



I opened my mouth to respond just as the bitch buzzed me in. I tore the door open, hard enough to make it bounce shut again with a slam behind me as the two seniors stared with alarmed and disdainful expressions. I stalked to the elevators and viciously jabbed at the button there a few times but, of course, the car was right there as if she’d sent it down for me. I walked in, the door automatically closing behind me as though sealing my fate. I poked the button for the penthouse level and wondered if that was real mahogany on the walls of the elevator car, and why would somebody who could afford to live in a place like this be working at a call center, anyway?



As the elevator car began its ascent, the anger that had sustained me to this point began to run out with each passing floor. My knees started to shake and I allowed my back to slide down the mahogany (?) walls to my haunches, massaging the bridge of my nose and trying to fathom how in hell I could have ever gotten myself into this mess. Then, of course, I remembered as I had to frequently do that evening. She had gotten me into this mess.



I didn’t feel the elevator car stop. I only knew it arrived at the top floor when I looked up to see the door had already opened. I rose and walked slowly out into the lobby, turning to watch the doors close again, listening to the car descending and abandoning me there to sink or swim. I considered that she must be crazy for the umpteenth time that evening as I began to walk down the hall, my footfalls deep and loud despite the Persian runners that centered the tile floor.



Crazy, crazy, crazy bitch. But she had me and, even worse, she really had got the better of me earlier that day and that didn’t sit very well with me. Not many people had ever done what she did, and not for one hell of a long, long time. I had no idea how I’d play the situation as I came to her door, I only wanted to avoid letting her make a knob out of me. Again!



I used the little brass knocker on her door and gazed down the hallway as I waited for her to answer. In theory, I could simply walk down that hallway, summon the elevator and take it down to the lobby. The parking lot. I could be back home to pack the car and be on the highway within two hours and-



The door opened, snapping me out of my little dream world.



At first I didn’t think it was even her. Her hair was no longer up, rather down and full. She still wore her business suit, but less the jacket and the two top buttons of her blouse, attracting my eyes before I could even think to cleavage that boasted of large breasts that weren’t apparent before. She’d left her heels on, probably because they brought her up to my six foot height and she’d most likely want to be able to look me in the eye. The expression on her now completely different, hair framed, beautiful face was not quite so attractive. She looked me up and down as if to question what right I had even being on God’s green Earth.



“Get in here!” she ordered with a tone that could freeze Hell over.



I did and, when she slammed the door shut behind me, I actually heard an echo. We were in an octagonal entry, about ten feet in diameter with a ten foot ceiling and four opposing doors, including the one I’d just come through. Everything was stark white, including the ceramic tiles on the floor that supported no furniture whatsoever. Very nicely done, but very different.



She flipped one side of my unbuttoned jean jacket aside and grabbed up a pinch full of the old, blue flannel work shirt I wore with all the welding burns.



“What’s this?”



“It’s my shirt.” I replied woodenly. “I’m in the middle of a laundry cycle and-”



“I hate it.”, she said, letting it go and taking in the rest of me, nodding with an unamused grin. “Great. You came here looking like a retarded migrant worker. Just great.”



She turned and walked to the door opposite the one through which I’d entered, adding, “Hang your coat, remove Wild Bill Hickok’s boots, and come in. Make yourself a drink, I’ll be right with you. You may not smoke.” she informed, opening the door and walking through. She stopped halfway to turn back, adding, “And get rid of that stupid shirt! Let’s see if you can at least get that right, shall we?”



With that, she was gone and, after mocking her last words in a whisper and exaggerated expression, I walked to one of the side doors, which indeed turned out to be a closet where I hung my jacket and stuck my boots. I kept my shirt on anyway because I didn’t wear a T-shirt under it at that time of the year.



Wandering through the doorway she’d used a minute earlier, I was struck by the difference between the entry and her front room. The clever use of polished black surfaces, marble and different earth tones made a rich, but cozy atmosphere. The high ceiling disappeared in dark shadows while the lighting level below adequately lit the plants that were everywhere and the furniture, all suggestive of comfortable style and class. Coming through that entry and into there made me feel as though I’d just walked through some tear in reality and ended up,… in the dragons den.



From somewhere, Melissa Etheridge was softly singing out that “we got nowhere to go” and I could easily sympathize.



Spying her bar, I walked over to it, warily looking around myself as though Dagmar could spring from some dark, hidden corner at any moment. I found something that I was pretty sure was rye, but with a non English label (Spanish?) that I’d never seen and couldn’t decipher. I removed the cap and took a sip. It was very good rye. The psycho bitch had style, I had to give her that as I looked around again, making my way to the U-shaped sectional with a long, wooden stand wrapped all the way around its outside perimeter. I sat, feeling slightly better for the sip I took, taking another more generous one while trying not to remind myself of how bad it was just to be in her office, in a relatively public setting.



Presently, Her Royal Freakishness returned and was about to say something when she stopped and shot an angry scowl. She hustled the rest of the way over to rudely grab the bottle from my hand.



“I said to make yourself a drink, not to guzzle it from the bottle like a barnyard pig!”



She put it back on top of her bar and came back around to sit opposite me, legs crossed, back straight, perched there much like a teacher, or a gargoyle. She proceeded to simply stare with that cold expression of hers, holding my eyes.



A sibling and I had often played ‘staredown’ as children and I’d won a lot more often than not, however, my angered indignation dissipated quickly once I knocked on her door and I found that Dagmar brought a whole new level to that little game. Just the same, I resolved to outlast her patience with me, to stand on and maintain some level of integrity with her, somehow.







Unfortunately, I was acutely aware of the material straining at that button on her white blouse and found part of my mind vaguely wondering just how big her tits were. I didn’t dare try for a closer look because God only knew what she’d do and, besides, it really wasn’t productive for me to be thinking of my blackmailer in that way.



Finally, to my short lived gratification, she spoke.



“Why did you flout me at work all the time?”



This caught me right off guard and I shifted my eyes to the floor, replying, “I dunno.”



She leaned forward and suddenly slapped my face hard. I couldn’t believe how fast she did it, even turning my head to the right with the force of her strike. I wanted to keep looking that way in order to avoid looking at her, to avoid some accidental, although silent communication featuring my great need to kill her right then.



“Don’t lie to me! Your first lie, one slap. Your second, two slaps, your third,…” She took my chin, somewhat gently turning my face to hers again. “Well, I’m sure even you get the picture, hm?”



“Apparently, you should just be happy I’m even looking at you.”



As soon as those words left my mouth, I regretted them. For her part, her hand dropped from my chin as her face went through a range of expressions from confusion, disbelief, insult, then finally to anger before she shot up and left the room without a word.



I sat, mortified and wondering what she would do to make me pay for that, but also fiercely proud that I’d had the nerve to do it, that I’d showed her-



She came stomping back in from the hallway, moving very quickly with something in her hand. It looked like the handle end of a whip that somebody’d ruined by cutting it in half and unbraiding it. The next thing I knew, she was right in my lap, her knees straddling my thighs. She pressed the handle of the ruined whip to my mouth and grabbed my throat. Instinctively, I raised my arms to get her the hell off me.



“Don’t even think about raising a hand to stop me!” she seethed. “I’ll beat you with this flogger till you scream! I WILL BEAT YOU UNTIL YOU CRY, DAVID! AND YOU WILL STAND THERE! YOU WILL TAKE IT! BECAUSE YOUR ONLY ALTERNATIVE IS A BIG, LONELY GUY NAMED BUBBA, SITTING SOMEWHERE IN A PRISON CELL WAITING FOR A WIFE TO DROP IN HIS LAP!”, she shouted in my face, her full, red lips sneering as she continued. “DO I HAVE TO EXPLAIN IT AGAIN!? DO I HAVE TO MAKE IT ANY SIMPLER FOR YOU!?”



This was the kind of thing I was afraid of, and I was afraid. I sat in shock, eyes wide and locked on her face, not daring to move a muscle other than the ones I needed to hastily shake my head.



“AND WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?”



Mercifully, she’d removed her hand from my throat and the flogger from my mouth, grabbing a handful of my shirt instead. She began tearing it off of me by the fistful, piece by piece, in a rage, shouting and emphasizing her words with a violent yank.



“I TOLD YOU – to get RID OF – this FUCKING – STUPID – SHIRT!!”



She was totally tripping now and it was all I could do to not try to ward her away, to keep my face out of the way of her flying fists.



By the time she was done and I was barebacked, my shirt now only scattered rags around the area, she seemed to have calmed down a little. She got off me, standing suddenly and glaring at me. After this display of shock and awe, all I could do was stare back, hoping it was over and dreading whatever reasons she had me there. So far, this was indeed making my time in her office seem preferable.



Then I noticed that the strained button on her blouse had come undone during her maniacal attack. A lot of cleavage and a fair amount of an incredibly white, lace bra showed. Her breasts heaved as she angrily brushed her hair back out of her face and I couldn’t believe I’d be distracted by that at such a time.







I was scared shitless, even though she was a woman. I’d never hit a woman in my life, would have a damned difficult time doing it and, if I did, Dagmar was far from the woman to start with, considering what she was holding over me. Anyway, I had a feeling she wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t able to somehow back it up.



I tried not to allow my eyes to go back to her tits, but they did anyway, despite the fact that only minutes ago I was imagining myself choking the life out of the bitch, choking her until her head exploded. She was an emotional roller coaster ride without safety restraints.



She walked a few paces away, thumb and finger on her forehead, elbow sticking out and staring at the floor, obviously trying to simmer down. She propped her other hand on her hip, striking a very sexy pose and (Oh, fuck no, what the hell!?) that’s when I started to get hard.







She finally went to the bar and, as she mixed herself a drink, tersely ordered over her shoulder, “Stand.”

She adjusts her shirt, sitting back in her chair as she waits for the boy to arrive. This was the first meeting, the time for plain speaking and letting it be known how she operates. It is the time when she lays the groundwork for exerting her very strong will over the man who will be sitting in front of her.



She breathes deeply and contemplates what she knows about this man, his job, his need to be put under her thumb and made to obey. She knows she will have to be forceful with him, his submission will not come easily but she also knows that when it does, it will be divine. She knows it will take no small amount of work to break him down to nothing and rebuild him into what she desires and sees as the “perfect man”. She looks up as there is a knock at the door.



“Come in.” She watches as he walks in, watches how he quickly observes the room and how his eyes quickly come to rest on her. He strides quickly and assertively into the room, showing with his body language that he is used to being in control. He is dressed smartly but casually, she smiles appreciatively as her eyes rove over his body, eyebrow arching as she watches him pause, knowing he realizes she has just undressed him with her eyes as easily as any man would a hot woman he was sexually interested in. “Sit down, let’s begin shall we?” she asks him politely.



He looks bewildered as there is only one chair in the room, which she presently is sitting in, “I guess..I’ll stand?” She looks up at him and points to the floor in front of her. “Sit.” She watches him struggle with this idea, watches the pride and arrogance wash over his face as he considers refusing her. She waits, silently. Finally, he settles himself on the floor, sitting indian style in front of her. Smiling, she nods and starts speaking quietly but firmly.



“From now on that is your spot, I expect immediate responses to my requests at all times. If you fail to do so, you will be punished severely. No questions, no protests, no arguments. You will assume the position of punishment which is face down flat on the floor, ass up in the air legs spread so your cock and balls are hanging freely. Understood? Just nod, no need to speak. Your time here is entirely dependent on you. If you decide you can’t or don’t want to continue to learn how to be a good bitch for me, all you need do is say so and I will gladly show you the door. If I decide you are not meeting the requirements that I am setting forth, I will show you the door as well. I expect this will be difficult for you, the things I am going to ask of you, so I do expect some resistance. However, if that resistance goes the way of complete disrespect for me, I will be through with you. Understood?” he nods, slowly.



She smiles and continues, “Your sole purpose in this household is to be of service to me. This includes everything from bathing, to cooking, to driving me around if I require it and everything in between. You will sleep every night until I think you have sufficiently learned your place in the kennels with the rest of the pets. Only good boys get to share my bed. As you prove yourself worthy of my attention and affection you will earn the rights of pleasuring me as well. I know you claim you are the best at these things, but that remains to be seen. This of course means your cock no longer belongs to you. It is mine, which means until I am ready to use it, it will be locked away. I absolutely do not want to catch you touching it, so to ensure that once this conversation is concluded you will be fitted with the best chastity device for you. While we are on this topic, your ass will be trained as well. I fully expect you to be able to take my cock and any cock that I may find for you. “



She watches his face and laughs out loud “Oh, stop blushing. I know how much you want to be a good cock slut for me too. Yes, it will be fabulous watching you take cock in your ass and your mouth, watching you, the big bad ass man turned into a bitch. Treated just the same as you’d treat in woman you tried to hook up with. I do think it is about time you learned how to properly treat women, don’t you?” She pauses and stares at him, watching his body and his face for his reactions. Laughing softly, she leans forward suddenly and pets him, strokes her hand down his head to his neck.



Sitting back again, she starts speaking, “There will be daily punishments. Oh yes, I expect you will need them at least for awhile. You need to be reminded of your place, daily. The severity will depend entirely on how well you do during the day. You will find that I am a strict task master but I am not cruel for the sake of being cruel. Your attire while in my household will be nothing but the skin you were born with. If I have visitors you may be allowed some small article of clothing to cover my prized possession the cock between your legs. Of course, this is entirely dependent on the type of visitors I have. You will be expected to service whomever I choose for you, however they choose to use you within the boundaries of my rules. You can be assured that I will absolutely take care of you. My friends will follow my rules when playing with my toys or they will not be invited back. Are you agreeable to these terms so far?”



He looks at her having a difficult time processing everything but very sure in himself when he nods. He fidgets, still savoring the brief touch of her hand on his head. She smiles at him, crossing her legs she sets her foot to swinging directly in his face. “One other issue that needs to be addressed, I am a bit of an old fashioned lady, being this way means that I require gentlemanly behavior at all times. You are expected to open and close all doors and wait to seat yourself until I have sat down when we are in public. When we are at home, as I said before, your place is at my feet like you are now. If we are at dinner as the gentleman, you will be expected to place our order. This could change depending on my mood but as a general rule this is how I expect things to go. If you disrespect me in public, your punishment will be most severe when we arrive home. I will not tolerate rude behavior. Clear?” He nods.



“Now, is there anything you would like to add at this time? You may speak freely right now but once this chance is gone, you will always beg my attention before you are allowed to make a request. ” She waits for him to respond, her foot moving along his chest just lightly. He looks up at her, shuddering slightly and shakes his head slowly. “No, we have talked a lot in the past and you are very clear. I am ready for this, please.”



She laughs softly and nods. “Let the games begin. Disrobe, fold your clothes neatly and leave them by my chair. You won’t be needing them anymore.”

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