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SNDC ALL video cassette labeled `Miki My guts



This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind. If you
are offended by graphic descriptions of natural and/or
unnatural sexual acts, if you are underage, or if this
type of material is illegal where you are, don't read
any further.

This is a fantasy. You will have to loosen your clench
on reality a little when you read it. This is a tale in
which physical acts and human responses are not limited
to, nor necessarily based in, reality. Some acts and
responses in this story may be physically impossible
and/or physiologically improbable.

Also, as is the case with most of the stories in this
newsgroup, all the women in this story are beautiful -
gorgeous, even. Gravity has not caused breasts to
droop nor have wrinkles creased unblemished faces. The
men (the leading men, at least) are hung like bulls.
They can get it up and keep it up often and at will.
In this special little fantasyland, there are no STDs,
morals, or unwanted pregnancies. Guilt is a four-
letter word. Most important of all, neither strength
of character, courage of convictions, nor moral belief
stand a chance against any erotic stimulus. This can
be as benign as an accidental glimpse of a bared ankle
or as stimulating as a whipping on the genitals.

For those of you who didn't understand the preceding
statements, GO AWAY!

This story is intended for the salacious entertainment
of consenting adults. Do not try to do any of the
things described in this story. You could injure
yourself or your partner, be arrested, or shot by her

If you are under 18 years of age, GO AWAY! This story will burn your eyeballs and fry your brain.

If material of a strong sexual nature is prohibited
where you are, GO AWAY!

By continuing, the reader accepts all responsibility
for any disgust, revulsion, jail sentences, or pleasure
that results from reading this story. If you don't, GO

You have been warned!

If you enjoy this story and feel the urge to post it on
a <free> site, at least give me (NightShade) credit for

So, stick your tongue firmly in your cheek and enjoy
the story!....:)



by NightShade

Acknowledgement: This story has been developed and
written over a period of several years. I would like
to thank "Leviticus" for his encouragement to finish
writing this, for his help in making the characters
seem a little more real, for his insight into the
situations in which the characters find themselves and
making their reactions plausible. My apologies to
Leviticus if I have assumed the wrong gender.... :)

This is a work of adult fiction. The situations the
characters find themselves in are, at times, explicitly
sexual and/or traumatic. There is some violence, but,
while graphic, I have tried not to be too explicit.
There is some underage sexual contact, both consenting
and non-consenting. Again, it is an integral part of
the story, but it is not the focal point.

This is not a `stroke' story, but it has its moments.
Many different elements of the human sexual experience
are included at one point or another, with BDSM playing
a major role. The story would best be described as a
BDSM romance novel.

Nothing and no one is real in this story, but all
places and settings mentioned may have a basis in
reality. For example, this story takes place on the
Eastern Coast of the United States. That is a real
place. The exact towns and states the characters live
in are not named, as they don't exist. The one
exception is Washington, DC, but no one can tell fact
from fiction there anyway, so who cares?

The concert hall is based on the one in Wuerzburg,
Germany, or at least as I remember it. There is a city
named Punta Arenas at the southern tip of Chile, but
the prison and the commandant mentioned in this story are imaginary. The Middle Eastern country, as well as
the characters from there, are made up, as are the
cultural rituals described. The Yankees are a real
baseball team, but the player and the farm club
mentioned are not. The medical devices in this story unfortunately do not exist.

The reason for the title "Sandcastles" will become
apparent after many, many chapters. My apologies to
the author of "Castle in the Sand", an excellent work
and one of my favorites, for the similarity in the
titles. I can only hope the quality of my writing
comes as close.
This story may not be posted or re-posted without my
expressed written permission. It is expressly
forbidden to post it on a pay site.

It is my hope that you enjoy this story. If you don't,
write a better one. I would enjoy reading it.

NightShade <>

Chapter 1

It had been a really rough day. The crying children and
screaming parents hadn't been the worst of it. You get
that at little league games and parent/teacher
conferences all the time. What had made this particular
day so rough was the silence. It was the kind of
catatonic listlessness that could suck the love right
out of you as you helplessly watched a young girl teeter on the brink between a life-long series of
nightmares and fears or of taking the beginning steps
in the long process of recovery. That is, if you can
call what a woman's life becomes after being on the
receiving end of a brutal sexual assault a 'recovery.'
I had looked helplessly into vacant eyes that just
yesterday had been full of sparkle and hope and more
than a touch of mischief, now dulled without a glimmer
of life or vitality.

I lay sleepless in bed with Sally, my girlfriend of
about 18 months after that seemingly endless night at
the hospital, of filling out medical forms, insurance
forms, police forms, and so on. Everybody wanted
details. I shuddered to think of all the closet
perverts who would have access to the lurid details of
the gruesome incident. I wondered which of those
innocent records would turn up later to continue to
ruin her life. Having exhausted all the sheep I could
count, I masochistically reviewed the events of the
past 12 or so hours as I tried to fall asleep.


Janey had tried to slip into the house unnoticed, home
early from her date. She was my girlfriend's daughter and had been her 15th birthday. Sally had reluctantly
agreed to let her 'baby' go on her first real date, as
her rule had always been no 'couple' dates until Janey
was 16 years old. This time there would be no other
couple, no chaperones. Just the two kids. There would
be others at the party, and then, well, whatever. Sally
should have listened to her fears. The date had been a

We were waiting up for Janey to get home. We, Sally,
actually, had a surprise birthday gift to give her,
along with a cake and a candle. I benefited from this
special occasion as well, as I got to spend the night
with Sally, an unusual liberty for a weekday. Even
after 18 months of serious dating, Sally still held me
at arm's length and I normally only saw Janey when our
weekend schedules collided at the house. Janey was an
active teenager in her first year of High School,
popular, pretty, and vivacious. It seemed every second
of her life was a flurry of activity, so she was gone
much of the time.

I sometimes thought that if it weren't for Sally's
strong sexual needs, and her own recognition of them,
she wouldn't have let anyone - much less me - into her
life at all. Don't get me wrong. She was loving,
sensual, caring, and, honestly, the best lover I could
ever want. Certainly, she was by far the best woman I
had ever had the pleasure of loving. Nothing was out of
bounds, sexually at least, and things were heading
towards a more permanent arrangement. At least, I
sincerely hoped so.

But there was always a wall that kept me from getting
too close or too comfortable, a barrier I couldn't get
through, over or around. Sally, although she admitted
it was there, simply wouldn't discuss it. The two weeks
of gentle, but firm celibacy that were sure to follow
each time I brought it up, with the threat of a
permanently celibate status if I ever brought it up
again, let me know in no uncertain terms that the
matter was off limits. I was left with the assumption
that someone, probably a man, had hurt her terribly. I
was pretty sure I was in the clear, but I was
definitely paying the price for the bastard's deed.

Hearing the front door open and quietly close, and the
'beep beep' of the alarm being set, we sneaked down the
hall bearing our gifts, cake and a lighted candle. We
sprang into the teenager's darkened bedroom with shouts
of "Surprise!" The strained melody of an off-key duet
of "Happy Birthday to You" died out as we both saw her
at the same instant. Janey was curled in a tiny ball on
the floor at the foot of her bed.

I caught the wrapped gift, the cake and the candle that
were tossed in my general direction as Sally moved
instinctively to hold her daughter. Janey was covered
in blood, mostly from the stomach down, the sticky red streaks thicker on the inside of her legs. The bodice
of her pretty new party dress was missing a couple of
buttons, and the one sleeve I could see was torn. Her
birthday dress was ruined.

I was already headed down the hall for the telephone
when I heard Sally's crisp "Call 9-1-1." I had always
admired her for that. Unlike most women I had known,
she didn't fall apart in a crisis. She stayed calm,
took charge, assessed the situation, made the hard
decisions and never doubted them. Even afterwards, she
wouldn't doubt the decisions she had made during a
crisis. I knew, and more importantly, Janey knew, that
Sally would take care of Janey now.

Several things went through my head as to what type of
accident could have caused her injuries. Call me
innocent, ignorant or na‹ve, but a traumatic rape was
not even on my list of possibilities. It just didn't
enter my mind. It is not something I would do under any
circumstances, and I guess I just expected other
civilized men to behave in a similar manner towards
women. Especially the women I loved.

Sally must have known how I would react to the news she
was about to break, as she waited to tell me until we
were alone in one of those family rooms they have at
hospitals with no windows and only one door. She had
found me sitting in those horribly uncomfortable chairs
designed to increase patient traffic at chiropractic
offices. She stood with her back to the only exit,
blocking me in the room. I looked up at her, hoping she
was going to rescue me from the mindless fare of cable
network news and 5 year old magazines. I had listened
through three or four repetitions of the tops news
stories of the day. Today's hot news was the annual
governor's congress in Washington, D.C. and their
concern over the recent sharp rise in missing
teenagers, mostly girls, apparently runaways.

I had been brutally stunned as Sally quietly informed
me that the police were sending over a specialist in
sexual assaults to talk with Janey and us about the
attack. Janey had been raped. She told me later that my
reaction had severely frightened her. She grudgingly
admitted that she had underestimated the depth and
strength of my feelings. She knew I cared about Janey,
and that I would be upset. She was unprepared for my
reaction. I was livid, horrified. It was extremely
personal. Even more, I was in a murderous rage I
couldn't and didn't want to shake off.

I now understood justifiable homicide. If I am ever
honored to be selected for a jury trial of a parent who
killed or maimed the person who had injured their
child, I will vote not to convict, but to award a Medal
of Honor to that parent.

Funny thing, I didn't see red when I had heard what had
happened to Janey. I saw nothing. I felt nothing. It
was simply as if a switch had been flipped and the
whole world had just stopped existing. My only thought
was to avenge that innocent little girl's pain. It was
the first time Sally had seen me cry, but I don't
remember. I'll take her word for it.

Sally calmly continued to say that the hospital staff
was surprised that most of the blood on Janey had not
been her own, but apparently the attacker's. Janey had
a few ugly bruises, and had some bleeding from
abrasions in and around her vaginal area. She had been
brutally penetrated, their words, but there was no
semen present. Both the OB/GYN and the emergency
physician thought she would heal in time. Physically,

Seeing my blank, uncomprehending stare and my tight
grip on the arms of the chair, she told me what she had
been able to put together of the events that had
transpired on her daughter's birthday.

Janey's date, Steven, was a big hotshot football player
a couple of years older than Janey. They had met
because he was a star player and she was a cheerleader.
As a freshman, she was the youngest girl on the squad
by two years. She was smart, talented and friendly to
everyone. From the first day of school, Janey had been
besieged with requests for dates, which she had
graciously turned down. She knew her Mom's rule.

Although she had to refuse to go on the dates, Janey
had that gracious ability to make each of her suitors
feel glad just to know her. She somehow sensed the
emotional trauma a rejection could cause a teenage male
ego and she let them know that she was the one who was
privileged to have been asked out. The guys she turned
down liked her more after than before. She was
developing quite a following for a freshman. She was
levelheaded about the attention; not what you would
call boy-crazy, although there were some boys that made
her heart beat a just little faster when they called
the house. However, all her other girlfriends were
seriously infected with that peculiar teenage disease,
and Janey sort of went along.

Peer pressure is a terrible force in a teen's life,
and, because of her status as a cheerleader, Janey was
'expected' to date, among other things, as we were to
discover shortly. When Steven asked her out for a
special birthday party in her honor, she felt not only
honored, but also somewhat obligated to ask her mom for
permission to go. She and her mom had a long-standing
agreement that Janey would not date 'solo' until she
was 16, but her persistence wore down Sally's
resistance. She was allowed to go this one time, with
the explicit understanding that this was an exception,
a one time only deal.

The date had started innocently. It was a party,
supposedly in her honor at the head cheerleader's home,
whose parents were conveniently 'out.' The punch, later
discovered to be spiked, had flowed freely. It was only
because of Janey's nervousness that she had only had
one glass. Steven had quite a few, as had the rest of
the revelers.

Because it was a school night, curfew for Janey was
11:00 p.m. and they left the party about 9:00. Steven
had driven to a popular make-out spot, deserted because
it was a weekday, and had tried to kiss her. At first
she was flattered, thrilled that the popular older boy she admired was paying her all this attention. However,
when he made a rough grab at her breasts, bruising the
tender flesh and drunkenly tearing her sleeve, she told
him to stop and that she wanted to go home. Now. Janey
was frightened, but not stupid, and several things
about the evening just didn't add up. Suddenly
realizing the whole evening had been a sham to get her
alone with this boy-turned-animal added to the guilt
she felt afterward.

Surprisingly, the boy had backed off right away,
started the car and left the make-out area. She relaxed
just a bit, thinking she may have been wrong about him
and the odd events at the party. She always thought the
best about people and she gave him the benefit of the
doubt. The damage to her dress was minimal and no one
would see her breasts. She was already beginning to put
this evening behind her.

Janey and her mom live out in the country a ways, close
enough to be convenient, far enough away to be left
alone by all but the most determined salesmen. On the
road to the house, just before the turnoff into the
long driveway, there is a dark stretch of road that
parallels the river. All along this stretch there are
private, isolated spots where you can pull just a few
feet off the road, and your car is all but hidden from
passersby. Steven pulled into one of those suddenly,
and turned to his surprised passenger.

He hadn't even waited for her to resist before he
slapped her several times across the face. Whether the
hard blows stunned her or knocked her out wasn't clear.
The next thing she remembered, she was flat on her back
on the ground next to the car with her party dress
bunched up under her armpits. Her bra had been pulled
down around her waist, the straps ripped off. The force
of pulling it down had dug the straps deeply into her
shoulders before they snapped, bruising the tender

She felt pain. Steven was mauling and biting her tits,
causing terrible pains to shoot from the sensitive
organs. There was a particularly sharp rock poking her
in her left shoulder blade and another one right in the
small of her back. With his additional 240 pounds
pressing down on top of her, the rocks were really
digging in.

The most intense pain came from between her legs. With
no preliminaries, Steven had ripped her panties down
her legs and shoved his prick into her virgin pussy.
The damage done was not due to his size. He had only
been 3, maybe 4 inches long when erect and not real
thick - a true 'pencil dick.' His penis size didn't
match his ego and it may have contributed to his
frustrations with his life. Never having learned to
deal with his own inadequacies, he covered them by
bullying people and forcing himself on others.

The damage had been due to Janey being tight and dry.
His angle had been off, as well as his aim, plus he had
used excessive force when he finally did manage to find
the virgin mouth of her vagina. The OB/GYN estimated he
must have made 10-15 forceful stabs before finding the
hole and gaining entrance, as Janey was bruised all
over, including the area around her anus. Apparently,
the boy's frustrations had increased to a frantic
level, and when he found an opening or anything closely
resembling one, he rammed his prick in with all of his
considerable strength. I shudder to think what would
have happened to her had she been conscious and moving

Sally had talked with Janey about sex, and boys, and
the difference between love and sex. She had also
included talks about rape, so Janey figured out pretty
quick what was going on. Like her mother, she kept her
wits about her, even in this terrifying situation.

In spite of the pain she was in, she first took stock
of her surroundings. Turning her head to the side, she
could see the open door of the car, the dome light
casting a dim illumination on the crime scene. She
could see her torn panties hanging like a trophy on the
rear view mirror, and, strangely, his slacks and shorts
folded neatly on the car seat.

A desperate plan formed in her mind. Again, like her
mother, she made a decision and implemented the plan.
She began 'ooohhhing' and 'aaaaahhing' in his ear. Her
hips, painful though it was for her, thrust up to meet
his. Although she had never fucked before, she
responded with the natural rhythms of a fertile female
in heat. The blood oozing from the tears in her vagina lubricated her brutal mating with the rapist somewhat,
convincing him she was responding to his efforts.

When he saw what she was doing, he had laughed at her,
thinking she was responding to his rape like the slut
he thought all women were. He said as much, calling her
a slut, a whore and a bitch. His callous words would
hurt her more and for a longer time than the injuries
he was inflicting, but right then they steeled her
resolve to go through with her plan.

With much panting and moaning, Janey convinced him to
go at her from behind. Again, it wasn't clear if she
was offering him her asshole to cum in so she wouldn't
get pregnant, or simply to do it 'doggie style.' It
wasn't important. She just knew she needed him to get
off her and let her get up for a split second.

He let her stand up and she wasted no time putting her
plan into action. Sally had dragged me to the
occasional Friday night high school ball game where I
had seen Janey doing the energetic cheerleading
routines, jumping around excitedly in her short skirt
and tight sweater. I had seen how high she could kick,
practically doing the splits standing up, her foot
ending well above her head. Most guys underestimate
just how much energy goes into cheerleading, how toned
and muscled those young women have to be to perform at
that level for two to three hours straight. I had seen
just a few of the hours of practice Janey and the
others put in when I had spent the occasional weekend
at Sally's. Steven had not.

As soon as Janey got up, she stepped up to him, making
it look as if she wanted to kiss him on the cheek
before getting down on her hands and knees. She leaned
her full firm breasts into him during the kiss, pushing
him off balance a bit. Instinctively, he steadied
himself against this unexpected, but lovely pressure.
His legs automatically spread to about shoulder width
apart to keep his balance. That was the opening she
needed. Like most men dealing with an angry woman,
Steven never knew what hit him.

Janey turned as if to face away from him, appearing to
be getting down into position to continue fucking. Then
suddenly, she wheeled and with all the force in her
long, tight legs and with all the murderous anger in
her heart, she brought her foot up into his groin.
Straight legged. Her aim was dead on, just slightly to
the right of center. He must have lifted several inches
off the ground.

Janey said there was no sound. He did not cry out. The
only sounds in the still night air, other than his
escaping breath, was the squish of a mashing testicle
and the soft pop of a ruptured penis. He dropped like a
stone where he stood.

Janey then did something that amazed every adult, other
than Steven's parents, who heard of it. Rather than
running away, leaving him there to bleed to death, she
got his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. On the playback of
the tape, you could hear Janey, who didn't identify
herself, calmly tell the operator exactly where the
injured person was and the extent of his injuries.
After the call she rolled up his slacks and shorts as a
pillow for his head, walked a short distance away to
where she could see but not be seen, waited until she
saw the ambulance arrive, then finished walking the
short distance home.

I continued to stare wordlessly at Sally as her tale came to a close. I had slowly come to my senses
somewhere in the middle when she had said Janey would
be OK physically. The physical injuries to the boy mitigated some of my murderous rage towards him. I no
longer wanted to kill him, but I seriously resented his
one surviving testicle. Even one ball was too much for
that raping bastard. The thought flickered through my
mind about how much it would take to bribe the surgeon
to make a tiny slip with the scalpel and finish the
job. In talking with the surgeon later, a woman with a
teenaged daughter of her own, she admitted she was
sorry she had not known the details of his 'accident'
prior to her repair work on him in the OR. She had been
told it was an auto accident. She coldly admitted she
would have done it for nothing. Off the record, of

As I watched Sally finish telling me the events of the
night, I became aware of a dangerous level of emotional
tension inside her, bordering on exhaustion. Mentally
chastising myself for my incredible thoughtlessness and
selfishness, I began to consider how she had to be
feeling. She was ready to split apart with fear and
anger, but felt she had to be strong and hold together
for Janey. She couldn't let go until Janey was out of
danger, or until she could hand off responsibility to
someone else. I felt the most important thing I could
do for both of them was to focus on Sally and try to
ease her pain and anguish. I held my arms open to her,
inviting her into them.

Sally looked up at me, and I realized then that she had
not looked me in the eye throughout the whole
recitation. As I looked into those beautiful blue eyes,
I saw her pain and anger, which I expected to see. I
also saw hate. It was a bitter, acrid hate inclusive of
all males, including me. It took a supreme effort, but
I didn't flinch when I realized her state of mind nor
did I take back the open-armed invitation of a hug. I
was well aware I had just invited a madwoman bent on
killing or seriously hurting something or someone to
come stand next to my unprotected body.

Sally didn't move for a long moment, leaving us frozen
in that estranged tableau. Then, with a small step, she
moved in my direction. Hoping she wouldn't notice, I
took a small step towards her, closing my legs in the
process and turning my hips slightly to the side. I
wasn't sure how far that 'like mother, like daughter'
thing went. It wouldn't protect my privates against a
hard driving knee, but it was better than singing
soprano. Permanently.

Continuing to glare hatefully into my eyes, she small-
stepped into my arms, ending with her face upturned. It
was not a face I particularly wanted to kiss at that
moment, but it was definitely one that needed it. As I
lowered my defenseless face towards that venomous
expression, I mentally pictured my lips being shredded
by those fine sharp white teeth that had teasingly
tormented me so many times during sex play. Call me a
fool, but I ignored warning signs that would have made
a sane man make out a Last Will and Testament. I skated
out onto the thin ice with abandon. Without hesitation.
Hell, I was in love with the woman.

Miraculously, I felt no immediate pain. I thought that
maybe my senses were dulled by the lateness of the hour
and the uncomfortable hospital chairs. I was resigned
to being the punching bag for her to vent her anger,
and I knew she was capable of doing almost anything in
her current frame of mind. Her quivering body was as
tense as a bowstring as my arms slowly enfolded her to
hold her gently, but firmly against my racing heart. It
felt as if I was holding an atomic bomb, and I was
probably about as safe. I put my body at her disposal
for her to vent her anger on as she saw fit.

My lips lightly brushed her dry ones. That kiss was not
in the least bit sexual. Too much fear, pain and sorrow
were around us right now. I was simply making myself a
sacrificial offering on the altar of her vengeance.
Believe me, it was a ritual of trust. Hopefully, it
would be a bloodless ritual.

Warm, wet, salty. I tasted it tentatively. Not blood.
Only slightly relieved, I opened my tightly clenched
eyes, apparently having squeezed them shut in
anticipation and preparation of bearing much pain. Her
eyes were closed, too. And leaking. Her tears began as
a trickle, but soon flooded her face and my chest. No
sobs, no hysteria. Just tears. My tears mingled with

I don't know how long we stood like that, but the
police officer in charge of the investigation finally
found us to let us know they had been able to
corroborate Janey's account of the evening's events.
Startled, we asked why they would need to be
corroborated. He filled us in on the latest sick twist
in the story.

Steven's parents, his father a big-shot lawyer, his
mother high on the social ladder and forever clawing
her way higher, had filed 'Assault and Battery' charges
against Janey, even before they knew the details of
what had happened. They were insistent upon filing them
and wanted Janey arrested and held in the juvenile
section county jail. The police were helpless to do
otherwise and were going to arrest her until they found
Janey's blood at the scene, right where she said the
rape had happened. With that, and some other things,
that supported her story, the cops held off.

Tests showed that Steven's blood alcohol level was over
the legal limit for an adult, way over for an underage
driver. Testimony from witnesses at the faux-party
unknowingly supported Janey. The partygoers made their
damaging statements thinking Steven had 'scored' with
her. The torn panties on the mirror were identified by
them as blue before anyone at the party should have
known. Actually, the partygoers had made snide remarks
about Janey 'crying rape' even before our 911 call had
been made. Alcohol and lies don't mix.

His parents had weakened under the weight of the
evidence, but the clincher was when the surgeon sewing
him up pulled a rather large chunk of foreign tissue
out of his piss hole. Tissue typing proved it was a
piece of her cherry. The force with which he had rammed
into her had shoved a torn fragment of her hymen way up
inside of his urethra. As he hadn't ejaculated, it was
still there.

There was no way it wasn't rape. There was no way it
wasn't self-defense on her part. There was no way their
spoiled little boy wasn't going to jail, with or
without Janey's testimony. The pretty-faced 18-year-old
pencil-dick was going to make someone a nice
'girlfriend' at the State Penitentiary. The rookie
officer, apparently having experienced the father in
court on previous cases, seemed smugly pleased with
that part of the outcome.

The ride home in the wee hours was quiet. Sally bundled
Janey into the house, a hot bath and bed, seemingly in
one continuous motion. She never left Janey alone but
didn't crowd her. It wasn't until Janey was soundly
asleep that Sally crawled into bed beside me.

Like I said, it had been a rough day.

Chapter 2

If I thought the night before had been rough, the next
couple of days made what happened then almost seem like
a vacation. Almost. Sally was so preoccupied with Janey
she could think of nothing else. Janey, for her part,
apparently couldn't think at all. She wouldn't react,
wouldn't talk, and wouldn't move. She just lay there.
Sally was able to clean her gently every day, although
only behind a locked door, and gently force a few bites
of food down her, but other than that, nothing.

I was beginning to be very afraid for Sally. Hell, I
was afraid for both of them. I was able, after a couple
of days, to spell Sally on her vigil beside Janey's
bed, but only after I promised to sit out of Janey's
direct line of sight. Sally was adamant about that. If
Janey woke up, I was to get Sally immediately and not
let Janey see me.

I didn't fully understand it, but apparently it was
possible for Janey to transfer her hate for Steven and
what he had done to her to all things male, including
me. It hurt me terribly. Not as much as she was
hurting, obviously, but I couldn't understand how I,
who cared for her and loved her, could be lumped in
with all the rest.

The first night that I sat in for Sally passed
uneventfully. Janey didn't stir once. The doctor had
been there earlier in the day, along with a rape
counselor, and both Janey and Sally were resting
comfortably with the aid of mild sedatives. It was a
long night, and, I am not ashamed to admit, I took
advantage of the solitude and darkness as I shed more
than a few tears over the shattered girl.

The next day I asked the counselor if it would be OK to
talk to Janey. Since she wasn't responding very much,
and would be sedated anyway, would it help or hurt? The
harried lady shrugged and said it probably couldn't
hurt. As long as she didn't react violently to the
sound of my voice, it might actually help. I thought
that an odd statement, but I decided to try to talk to
Janey during the night.

That night I sat by her bed, a little closer than the
night before. I started speaking very softly, hoping
not to startle her, which I didn't. I talked to her
about lots of things. I tried to go through every
memory I had of her, every time we had together. I told
her what she was wearing, who she had been with and
what was said. I told her of the pride and admiration I
felt when I watched her perform at her games. I
recounted each and every game and competition where I
had seen her. Then I started going through the meals we
had shared. And so on. I was amazed at all the details
I could recall about this girl I had watched grow into
a young woman.

Towards morning, after about seven to eight hours of
speaking quietly to her, I sensed a change in her. At
first I thought she had moved and was about to go get
her Mom, but then I noticed she was still asleep. She
seemed to be breathing easier, but how I would I know
that? I didn't analyze it a lot, but somehow, I
instinctively knew that Janey was going to be OK. It
was like I could sense her feelings or her aura or some
shit. Weird, I know.

It was during this time of slow recovery that all Hell
broke loose. The news of Janey's incident made the
local, state, and eventually the national news. It hit
the national news wires after the half-assed local
police investigation accidentally found that this had
been an organized plot involving several other
students. Due to the political connections of some of
the alleged participant's parents, the local police
panicked and the FBI was called in. They used the
excuse that this had been an attempted kidnapping.

What the local police had uncovered was that it had
been a contest for money. The prize was several
thousands of dollars, but with the money these kids
had, that was secondary. Winning, at any price, was
number one. Apparently, all the male athletes - the
jocks - put $100 a piece into a pot at the beginning of
each school year. It was not an option. No one was
forced to participate in the actual contest, but they
didn't stay healthy very long if they didn't
contribute. The first jock to fuck all twelve of that
year's cheerleaders won the pot.

Janey, being a freshman, was the only conquest left for
two of the guys, one of whom was Steven. The other boy had been making considerable headway with Janey at
school, actually going through the motions of courting
and wooing her. I had heard his name mentioned in
reverent tones at the dinner table, and a telephone
call from him was a reason for excited tittering
between the mother and daughter. His apparent progress
with the beautiful girl had infuriated Steven,
prompting him to set up the birthday party scam for

When pressed by the professionals at the FBI, Steven
cracked like a true wuss, and gave up all the names of
the organizers and the participants. He even had a list
on his computer complete with names, dates and if the
event had been 'voluntary' or 'involuntary'. There were
a remarkable number of involuntary notations, meaning
'rapes', and that had caused an even greater uproar, as
most had never been reported. The few that had been
reported to the local police or school counselors had
been dismissed as post-coital regrets.

But it was not just the guys involved. There was
jealousy on the part of some of the girls that prompted
their participation, too. Steven implicated three of
the cheerleaders for setting up the party, providing
the booze, and verifying what color panties Janey had
been wearing that night. The girl's panties were
considered to be proof in the case of an involuntary
score, and they had been pretty sure Janey was not
going to participate voluntarily. So knowing what color
or pattern of panties she was wearing was key to
verifying the 'trophy' was from the victim. One
cheerleader had walked into the guest bathroom at the
party when Janey was peeing, her panties down around
her ankles. Janey was sure the door had been locked,
but, as the girl had OOP'sed her way back out of the
bathroom, she had just guessed the lock was broken and
had let it pass.

There were arrests and expulsions, some permanent. They
involved most of the popular kids, the 'in' crowd. The
'untouchables' had been touched. Hard. Most of them
blamed Janey, and they were bitter. Most of them
wouldn't graduate, at least, from this High School.

Then, to make a bad situation a catastrophe, someone,
probably some low-level employee from the hospital, had
leaked Steven's hospital chart to a sleazy tabloid.
There wasn't a male in America who didn't wince just a
little when his injuries were described in graphic
detail. The tabloid shouted it out in full color, with
charts and graphs showing the force of impact required
to do what had been done to his popped testicle and
ruptured penis by her solid kick to his groin. He got a
lot of sympathy from that report, as if his injuries
somehow made the two of them even. A surprising number
of females were sympathetic to him as well.

As more news leaked and broke over the weekend, it grew
rapidly into a media spectacle. Janey had withdrawn
into herself and didn't know any of this was going on.
But Sally knew and I knew. Sally had to take care of
Janey and couldn't deal with this. Me? I got mad, then
I started kicking ass and taking names. Literally.

We disconnected all the phones but the one in the back
guestroom after several threats had been made on
Janey's life, not to mention the countless obscene
phone calls. The list of the names we collected from
the Caller ID on that phone included some very
interesting ones. The calls were all recorded on a
system similar to the 9-1-1 calls. The FBI was doing
voiceprints and matching some surprising names to the
voices. Heads were going to roll, some from very high

Considering several of the worst calls originated from
the telephones of those whose job it was to 'protect
and serve' us all, it was a good thing the house was
set well back from the road, and had a well-defined
perimeter fence around the large property. The
governor, a personal friend of mine, brought in the
National Guard to 'help' the local police keep an eye
on the property after I shared some of the selected
names on my Caller ID list with him. The new, heavily
armed troops added to the complicated chain-of-command
and jurisdictional issues, not to mention the feeding
frenzy of the so-called news media, but the phone calls
did quiet down a bit.

Then some asshole leaked Janey's name and address to
the press along with a home video showing her doing one
of her trademark kicks. Overnight, she became known as
"The high-kicking cheerleader" in the media. Her
picture and that video clip was played prominently at
the top, bottom and in the middle of every broadcast
hour, usually accompanied by the music from "The
Nutcracker Suite." The heartless jackals were at our
gates within minutes of the leak. News, tabloids,
paparazzi, women's rights groups, protesters,
spectators, helicopters, bullhorns, and, believe it or
not, a burning cross. The death-threats on the
telephone had been easier to deal with.

Sally came apart. I went ballistic. Not one to sit idly
by and watch this thing destroy these two women's
lives, I made several calls to some very high-priced
lawyers in New York, old friends of my father's from
his law practice. Every, and I mean every, last fucking
one of the registered media in the entire nation
received a registered letter from that law firm. The
letter explained exactly what would happen and how much
it would cost them personally and corporately if
Janey's name, likeness, or personal information were
broadcast, printed, or hinted after their receipt of
that registered letter, even if it was by mistake or

The letter explained this was not a matter of
censorship and that they were free to report on the
events of this case, the same as any other similar
case. The girl was, however, a minor with legal rights
to anonymity. She had committed no crime, was not
charged with one, would not be charged with one, and
wished simply to be left alone. To help them remember,
the letter also mentioned several similar cases that
had not made headlines, but about which the entire
media industry was aware, where this particular law
firm had won huge awards from overly aggressive 'news'

You could tell almost to the minute when the letters
hit the corporate offices of the major news media and
their legal departments confirmed the essential
elements of the legal situation. The smarter legal guys probably pointed out that because of the warning
letter, any infraction would likely result in an award
far surpassing the previous multimillion dollar
amounts. Suddenly, everybody wanted to be somewhere
else, in a hurry. Watching their remote broadcast
vehicles scramble to leave the front gates reminded me
of the old Keystone Kops movies.

There were reports of several stations turning off
their signals that day in the middle of a broadcast
story, leaving several minutes of "Technical
Difficulty" screens. Of course, a couple of hard-liners
didn't listen, including one sensationalistic talk show
host, and surprisingly, one major network. They all
went bankrupt from the lawsuits, paying for the legal
expenses, and it didn't help when the FCC immediately
rescinded their broadcast licenses, effectively
stopping any further repetition of Janey's name in the
news. The other news agencies were very circumspect
after that. It's nice to have a sister who just happens
to be a Federal Judge in Washington, D.C.

I think how I handled that media mess managed to
impress Sally, who saw me from a whole new perspective.
Sharing your Rolodex is not something you normally do
when dating, even after 18 months. The restored calm
around the house and city allowed her to gather her
wits back together, and she was able to re-focus on
helping her daughter get well.

I continued to sit with Janey at night. After the first
three nights things had gotten pretty routine. I sat, I
talked, and she slept. The next night looked to be
going pretty much the same, except I was getting tired.
The emotional drain was taking its toll on all of us,
even me. The evening started out with me reminiscing. I
covered the same topics over and over every night. I
figured, what the Hell, she's asleep anyway.

I don't remember dozing off, but I awoke with a start
and saw Janey lying there, staring at me. Worse, I was
touching her. More accurately, she was holding onto my
finger with her hand. I had been having vivid dreams,
of happy times, but always under a cloud or shadow.

"Oh, you're awake. I'll go get your Mom."

In response, I got a quick shake of her head and a
tightened grasp on my finger. She apparently didn't
want me to go. I wracked my groggy brain for what to

"OK. Do you need anything like a drink of water or
something to eat?"

She dismissed the idea with another quick head shake.

"I'm sorry to wake you up. Was I snoring?" I tried a
feeble laugh, but Janey just kept looking at me. Now
that I looked closer, I noticed she had a wary look on
her face. Not knowing what else to do, I just sat
quietly with her. It was still early; Sally wouldn't be
awake for hours.

"I thought you were mad at me, but you're not, are
you." It was a statement.

Those were her first words to me in nearly a week. I
nearly fell out of the chair. "Why would I be mad at

"I dunno. But you were mad, really mad, at someone,
weren't you?"

I thought back on the idiots that had surrounded the
house and hounded Sally and me. Janey had been out of
it during that time. How could she have known?

"Some people were bothering us a little. They're gone
now," I responded.

A while later, "Do you really like that blue outfit I
wore to school last week? I think it makes me look

Now I was really confused. In all my ramblings to her
the past four nights I had avoided any reference to her
appearance, or being sexy, or her body. That was on the
advice of the rape counselor. She mentioned that rape
victims take a tremendous blow to their self-esteem and
that I shouldn't talk about her appearance or anything
to do with her body.

However, I had been dreaming of her in that blue outfit
just before I woke up. It was her dark blue blazer with
a matching pleated skirt that made her look like a
smart young professional businesswoman. I had had a
dream of her standing in front of a crowd, giving a
speech or lecture. What I remember was feeling proud of
her and everything she had accomplished. I had never
talked to her about it, though.

"Oh, was I talking in my sleep?"

She gave me that puzzled look, like I didn't know
something I should have, that look teenagers reserve
for their ignorant parents and siblings, then said,
"Well, kind of."

Janey sat up in bed, propping her pillows behind her. I
didn't try to help her, as that would have meant
touching her. As normal as she sounded, I didn't think
she was ready for that. Unusual for her, she pulled the
covers clear up to her chin, covering her body
completely. When she was settled in an upright
position, she did slip her hand out of the covers and
recapture my finger, so I stayed where I was. We didn't
talk anymore. We just sat in silence, each of us with
our own thoughts.

Sally found us like that in the morning, and
immediately burst into tears. They were happy ones,

Chapter 3

I was still awake when Sally gently lifted the covers
and slid her naked body underneath. It was our first
'normal' night in over a week, with both of us in bed
at the same time. Janey was sleeping comfortably now,
and with their link, Sally would be awake at the first
sign of trouble.

At first, Sally stayed completely on the far side of
the bed, not wanting contact, or perhaps not wanting to
wake me. After restlessly tossing about for a while,
unable to get comfortable, or maybe just making sure I
was awake, she edged closer, finally moving her
gorgeous ass into me 'spoon fashion.' Now, under normal
circumstances, when she came to bed naked and backed
into me like that, it was a signal for a night of wild
sex. Even though we had gone a long week without any
sort of sexual relief, somehow I didn't think that was
what she wanted tonight, and, fortunately, my dick
behaved for once and didn't try to poke into her
uncharacteristically unreceptive body. Self-
preservation runs deep in my family.

I figured with all the bouncing around she had been
doing that she wanted me to be awake, so I moved my arm
over her and drew her close. Her large, firm tits,
normally so convenient in that position, went
unmolested as we cuddled. She gave a deep sigh and
snuggled firmly into my body, savoring the simple skin-
to-skin contact she shared with me all along her back
from shoulders to toes. I expected more tears. She just

Sally was still in crisis mode and her mind was going a
thousand miles an hour. So was mine. Several minutes -
hours? - passed in silence.

"Larry? You awake?"

"Uh-huh." I hesitated, not knowing which direction to
go. I took the safe route.

"So do you think Janey's going to be OK?"

I could feel her nod. "Yes. The doctors said by Monday
she could go back to school with full activities. The
counselor agreed too. She said the sooner she goes back
the better."

"Monday? So soon? But...?" I let the unspoken question
hang there. She didn't answer it.

Sally was quiet for a long time. I had almost given up
continuing the conversation and, in all truth, I was
content just to hold her. Skin on skin was something I
could get used to, especially when it was hers and
mine. Under the circumstances, the closeness had a
healing, bonding effect on me. I hoped she was feeling
the same things. Comfortable with these sensations, I
almost missed it when she continued.

"Larry, you know how much I like sex."

Huh? This came from out the blue, from left field, from
nowhere. My bewilderment must have been obvious, even
in the dark. I could almost feel her grinning at my

"You must have realized by now, Larry, that I have a
much higher than normal sexual appetite. I always have.
I have been aware of it since I first learned boys and
girls were different. It was difficult, especially when
I was Janey's age, but I never let it control me, or
determine my actions. Influence, yes, sometimes
unwisely, but determine, no. Sex has been one of the
biggest joys of my life.

"Janey is my daughter in every way. I haven't
encouraged or discouraged her sexuality. I didn't need
to. She has masturbated since age 5, the same time I
started. However, she has been aware from the beginning
that other people wouldn't understand if she involved
them in her activities and has always acted
responsibly. She was - she is a good kid. She hasn't
given me a bit of trouble in that way, and I always
assumed she would grow up and have as rewarding a sex
life as I have.

"But now? Oh, God, Larry, now I'm so afraid for her.
Maybe it's weird, but she and I have a link or
something between us, especially when we are close to
each other. I can't explain it, exactly. It's like we
can sense each other's moods and feelings. It's not
mind reading, exactly. But I know when she's horny or
happy, and she senses when I am sad, and how very happy
you have made me." She stopped and brought her hands up
between her breasts, capturing my hand between hers.

"The Janey I had 'felt' before is gone. Until today,
no, it was last night sometime; all I got when I was
near her was fear, fear of sex, fear of men, fear of
herself and her sexual feelings, and tremendous guilt.
It's as if she thinks she is responsible for what

"I know right now she is healing physically and that
she'll get over most of the pain in time. But her first
sexual experience with another person was so traumatic,
so horrendous! I'm afraid she'll never let a man near
her again, that she will never experience this, that
she will never let anyone close enough to know love."
She hugged my hands to her again to show me what she
meant. "I'm afraid she will never have the courage to
meet new people, to trust them, to venture out into the
exciting places in life. That she will always be
suspicious of people and that it will turn her into an
ugly person. 'Ugly on the inside becomes ugly on the

I let her talk. I didn't understand some of what she
was saying, especially about that link thing and all,
but I knew enough to keep quiet. Finally the silence
got to me, and I had to open my big fat mouth.

"So is there anything we can do to help her get over
this?" That's right. I said "we." Stupid, stupid,

She seemed to give a start, as if 'doing' something
about it had not occurred to her. Or maybe it was that
'we' would do it together. I don't know. I do know I
could sense the sudden change in her attitude and the
change in the direction of her thoughts, even without
being able to see her face. Her whole body radiated
excitement as she grasped on to this tiny ray of hope.

"Well, what I think she needs is someone who can teach
her, be patient with her, let her be the instigator
while gently encouraging her exploration of her
sexuality until her fear of sex is gone. It would have
to be someone older; someone she trusts, someone more
experienced. Someone she knows already."

"Where would you find someone like that?" I asked. "It
doesn't sound like they would be listed in the Yellow

I just about said something about a particular High
School teacher who came to mind. We had discussed his
known proclivities for young girls before, but the
fucking teacher's union was strong in this state and he
just kept on molesting - all right, allegedly
molesting, young girls. I also didn't think a 'funny'
remark would have been the right thing to say at that
particular moment. Given what she said next and what
happened as a result, I sometimes wonder what would
have happened if I had broken the mood at that moment.
But we'll never know, will we?

"I don't know. Right now, you're the only man I know of
who I trust enough to...Oh, my! Larry!" her voice
trailed off, as the solution became as obvious to her
as my sudden erection jabbing into her ass.

Let me explain a few things. First, Sally is, as far as
I am concerned, the perfect woman. Not just for me. She
is THE perfect woman. I personally know of several
other red-blooded males who agree, and who are
extremely jealous of my relationship with her. Comments
about giving a left nut in exchange for an evening with
her, etc. might be inappropriate given the
circumstances, but hey, it is the thought that counts,

Sally is smart, witty, loving, caring, giving, yada
yada yada. Don't misunderstand. I don't mean to
trivialize those attributes; I just need to save
several megabytes of hard disk space by not listing
each and every one of them. I consider things like
honesty, integrity, and trust to be among her best
qualities, but, for the moment, her physical attributes
are more appropriate to consider.

Sally stands 5'2" in her stocking feet. Those delicate
feet grace the ends of two of the shapeliest legs God
could ever dream of forming, if God ever dreamed at
all, much less of female anatomy. At the top of her
thighs, she is both trim and voluptuous at the same
time. In front, her mound doesn't mound at all. Her
stomach is hard and flat. Not a bulge, not a wrinkle in
that silky smooth expanse of skin, even when bending
over. Her hips flare slightly, and narrow to a waspish
waist. And that's after one birth!

From behind, she looks slightly more Reubinesque.
You've heard it said before, but in this case it is
true: She has an ass to die for: high, tight and firm,
yet soft to the touch with resilient, fully rounded,
mouth watering mounds.

I remember vividly the first time that I had seen her
near naked ass revealed to me in all of its splendor.
She was in a thong bikini. We had been dating for about
a month and things were going well between us. We were
both anxious about out first sexual encounter, but
realized that what was building between us was special.
We both wanted to give it time to grow at its own pace.
Not ready for an overnighter, well, I was ready, I just
didn't want her to reject me this early on. Anyway, I
invited her to a friend's secluded place on the island
for the day.

When I arrived to pick her up on the appointed day, she
skipped out to the car, not waiting for me to get out
and come to the door as I usually did. Stopping by the
door on my side of the car she slid off her thin cover-
up, posed for me once or twice sexily, and then twirled

I must have choked or something, as she stopped halfway
around and looked back inquisitively at me over her
shoulder. My leering, lusting expression would have
gotten me fired for sexual harassment in any office in
America but the Oval Office, and I blushed, embarrassed
at my obvious lust and arousal. My cock, earlier
content to rest in the confines of my own suit, broke
ranks and showed its swollen head over the waistband,
high enough she could see it from where she stood.

My jaw moved, and I gestured apologetically, convinced
she would bolt for the nearest policeman. Her
spontaneous laughter and pleasure at my visible
appreciation of her appearance and my obvious desire
for her body saved the moment, making it one of the
most special memories we shared.

I did wait until we got to the beach house, but I had
to fuck her in the car before we even got to the sand.
I couldn't walk I was so hard. When I think back, I
didn't fuck her. We fucked each other. The fucking was
more than mutual. We did it again on the blanket -
before lunch. Twice more after lunch and a couple of
times on the way back to the car. It was a long beach.
Every time she walked in front of me in that tiny black
thong bottom, I got rock hard. She knew it, too,
enjoying her affect on me as much as I did.

That night at my apartment she came to bed in just
those bikini bottoms, walking back and forth several
times as she prepared for bed, dancing and teasing me
to a hardness I had never thought possible this side of

That was the first time we did it anal. It wasn't the
last. She wore that suit often.

So much for her ass.

If anything, Sally felt her tits were 'smallish'. They
were nowhere near "small," filling her C-sized bra cups
to overflowing. She liked the tight feeling, the bounce
and jiggle a tight garment gave her chest, so she wore
them that way. However, she didn't need to wear one at
all. Her tits rode high, and were only slightly more
rounded on the bottom when loosened from their
confinement. Perky light pink nipples surrounded by
darker rosy aureoles a little larger than a quarter.
Those sensitive nubs would stiffen to hardened turgid
buttons a little less that « inch long when she was
aroused, which was often. Oddly, one of her nipples,
the left, had been pierced at some time prior to our
relationship. One of her mysteries, as yet unsolved.

She had blonde hair, unusual green eyes - Irish green,
not hazel - that didn't miss a moment of life, creamy
smooth skin that tanned in two seconds and held it for
months. When Sally learned of my penchant for tan
lines, those three tiny white triangles of untagged
skin over her nipples and pussy lips, she developed a
seemingly permanent set of distinct tan lines. I have
always preferred white meat over dark, and I proved it
to her the night she unveiled her new look, but it took
hours and hours until she was fully convinced. I didn't
mind at all.

Even with her killer body, it was her face I loved the
most. I could watch her for hours, and did so as often
as I could. She wasn't embarrassed at the attention I
paid to her, even when she learned I got hard as iron
simply by looking at her. She would just give me a
knowing smile and laugh. Depending on the
circumstances, she would alternatively torture me,
making me even harder by flaunting her body, or she
might relieve me with her hand or mouth. She was a
sexy, beautiful woman, breathtaking, heart-stoppingly
gorgeous, and generous to a fault.

She had one special look that could pierce my darkest
mood and fire my blood as no one had ever done before.
She would kind of a look up at me through her eyelashes
with her face tilted slightly down and a little to one
side. Her pouty lower lip would glisten with just the
tip of her tongue showing, an innocent smile teasing
the corners of her moist lips. I would melt. I would
give diamonds, rubies, and my kingdom for that smile.

Once, when she looked at me like that, her tongue
wasn't showing. Instead, she had just the knob of my
swollen cock in her mouth. We had made a bet - I was
still under the mistaken impression I had some control
in this relationship - that she could make me cum with
no hands, no bobbing, no sucking, no tonguing. Just her
mouth. In under a minute.

She won. I didn't last 30 seconds. She just looked up
at me with those incredible green eyes, batted them
once or twice, wantonly winked at me, and had to
swallow a gallon of my juice. Which she did, laughing
with me. As the loser, I 'had' to attend the opera with
her for six months.

That's the first thing I needed to explain.

The second is that Janey is all that, just younger and
maybe a bit firmer in one or two places. Hell, she's
almost 20 years younger, and, not to say that Sally
looks or acts her age, Janey has the advantage and the
allure of youth; more energy, more curiosity, more

Of course, I have to assume she looks the same naked as
her mother. I have never seen anything but her legs and
arms bare, and those matched up pretty close. I knew
the two of them traded clothes all the time and Sally
would only stretch out the smallest of Janey's tops.
Those tight ones happened to be my personal favorites,
especially the bare midriff tank tops made of thin
material. I checked the label for the size on one after
it was carefully discarded for the night and purchased
Sally several of her own for us. I replaced several of
them as they kept being ripped off her whenever she
wore them. I think Sally was secretly pleased with her
overall effect on me, as she wore them often, many
times taunting me in public by revealing she was
wearing one under a sweater or sweatshirt.

But I digress. Although I had noticed and admired
Janey, I had never thought of her in a sexual sense.
Sally was all I wanted, all I needed, and Janey was a
minor, a mature minor, for sure, but still underage.
Let's face it, Sally was all I could handle, and
besides, why spoil a terrific thing? On top of that, I
didn't have all that much contact with Janey as I
wasn't staying overnights that often. She had her life
and Sally and I were building ours. I hoped, kind of,
that she would be a bigger part of my life with Sally
at some point, but like that? Holy Shit! No way!

So there we were, lying in bed, Sally's wonderfully
firm, warm ass nestled in my crotch, talking quietly,
dealing with this crisis in an adult and reasoned
manner. And suddenly this picture of my cock
disappearing into Janey's soft, warm, moist mouth
springs unbidden into my head. It was clearly an
inappropriate moment for a hard-on, but my pecker
seemed suddenly to have developed a suicidal mind of
its own. Instant woody, and it jabbed forcefully into
Sally's ass, pressing directly into, but not
penetrating her asshole. Thank God for small favors.
Hey, how about an 'On/Off' switch on these things next
time You design something? OK, Big Fella?

Somehow that vividly erotic image, and the multitude of
others that quickly joined it in my brain of that
vibrant teen in various sexual positions, invigorated
my organ. It was a most inopportune time, considering
she had just been assaulted.

I knew I was in deep shit.

There was no way for her to miss my arousal or to not
know what had caused it. We had both realized the
obvious, albeit ludicrous, solution at the same time.
We just had different images of it. If I hadn't been so
pre-occupied with the erotic visions filling my head, I
might have tried to cover, scrabble together some
romantic reason for my arousal, and make it perhaps a
little better. As it was, I knew she knew. As I
realized what had happened, time stopped dead while I
waited for her to do or say something.

I almost cried out when she shifted her body away from
me, leaving my erection bobbing freely in the space
between us.

"Well. I see you like them young." Her voice was
sounded almost bitter, hurt.

With that, she moved farther away from me. It was the
first night we spent together, apart. I didn't like it.

I felt like dead man walking. Walking in deep shit.

Chapter 4

The smell of fresh coffee and bacon filtered into the
room late the next morning. I surveyed the room. I was
at Sally's, so it hadn't all been a bad dream. Damn! I
raised the sheets and checked my equipment. I breathed
a sigh of relief. She hadn't pulled a Bobbit. In fact,
it looked and felt as if my erection had never gone
down. The few personal items I kept at her place were
still hanging in the closet and sitting unbroken on the
dressing table. So far, so good. No open suitcase for
me to pack and leave.

I reviewed the final events of the previous evening in
my head. Same conclusion, I had really fucked up this

The wafting aroma of a hearty breakfast had me
confused, however. Sally and Janey were extremely
health conscious and didn't eat a lot of eggs and
bacon, or as Janey called them, 'cholesterol and
nitrates in non-unsaturateds.' It's what she meant when
she said 'CNN.'

Under normal circumstances, I had been able to
associate these particular smells with the hearty
breakfasts we would have following an exceptional night
of wild passionate sex. Or of nights filled with
passion and romance, not just fucking and sucking, as
had been the case more often than not of late.

I slipped on my robe and walked out to the kitchen. On
the way, I went past Janey's door, which was open. The
bedroom doors in this house were always open, even
during sex. It took a bit of getting used to, as Sally
was extremely vocal during intercourse, announcing her
pleasures with descriptive words and sounds. Privacy
was for the bathroom, unless, of course she was horny.
Janey respected the privacy visually, but I wondered
how much she heard.

I peeked in on Janey, to check on her, of course. She
was still fast asleep, but curled into a protective
fetal position, as if hugging herself. I continued on,
following my nose to the kitchen.

At the door to the kitchen I paused and reconnoitered.
Two place settings, both with coffee cups, one of them
was the cup reserved for my use, another good sign.
Fresh squeezed orange juice, a special treat. Sally
hated the work it took. I cautiously cleared my throat,
ready to duck at the first sign of flying utensils.

"Good morning, lover. Hungry?"

'Lover?' Me? I quickly checked behind me to see if
anyone else was there. Nope, just me.

"Uh, sure. You know I like a big breakfast..."

I bit my tongue, as I had almost added 'after a night
of great sex.' I edged closer to the table, still
watching for flying pottery or hot grease.

Sally was standing at the stove, wearing her 'I just
had another night of great sex' robe. It was the red silk one and was short enough you could just see the
bottom swells of her ass cheeks. When it was cinched
tight with the silk rope belt, like it was now, you
could see everything, back and front. Usually that
meant 'breakfast can wait, shove the dishes on the
floor and do me hard and fast on the table.' I had no
idea what it meant this morning. I took another
cautious step towards the table.

She watched my progress with a strange expression on
her face. It was more a wry smile than anything, but
there was a definite element of sadness in it to, or
seriousness, maybe.

"Sit." It was gentle, like the final concession in an
argument, but it was an order, nonetheless.

I sat, trembling slightly.

She came over with two plates, business-like. They were
hot out of the oven. She put them down, poured the
coffee and sat down with me at the table. She then
proceeded to push her food all around her plate until
it was a congealed mass in the center. It looked just
like my plate.

I had been watching her fidget for the longest time. I
had only known her to fidget once before, and that was
the first night she asked me to stay over with her when
Janey was there, too. Indecision was not something I
was used to from her. She finally noticed me watching
her and blushed. That surprised me.

"Is something on your mind, Sally?"

"Yes. No. Yes. But I don't know how to start."

This was even more uncharacteristic of her, and
immediately I misunderstood. "Look, if it's about last
night, I'm terribly sorry. I don't know what happened
that it popped up like that. I was tired, we were both
stressed out because of what - you know, all that
happened. And it's been a long time since we, well, did
anything together to relieve the stress. I swear to you
with all my heart, soul and body, I have never thought
of Janey in that way before. Cut it off and toss it out
if I'm lying! I don't know what came over me."

I hesitated, choked up a bit. "Just don't make me leave

My eyes started to water. Hey, it was an emotional
moment. I was really sincere, and I was sincerely
afraid she would never let me see her again. I was
prepared to continue to beg, plead, scream, grovel or
whatever it took to obtain her forgiveness. Fortunately
she took pity on me and stopped me.

"That's very sweet of you. I'll bet I could almost get
you to grovel on the floor, couldn't I?"

I nodded. My heart sank to my knees. I wasn't all that
good at begging, really.

"And I wouldn't think of cutting it off. It has - you
'both' have brought me too much happiness and pleasure.
That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."

She chewed on the next line for a long time.

"I want you to teach Janey about sex."

My ears were playing tricks on me, but my prick had
heard and was rising once again to the challenge. It
popped its head out between the flaps of my robe, as if
wanting to participate in the conversation. It was so
hard it hurt. I was going to have to do something about
these uncontrollable erections. More sex more often,

Sally looked at me, waiting for a response, other than
the one sticking out of my robe. I think she wanted
something verbal, some response from the cognitive side
of my brain.

"You're serious." It was a statement, not a question. A
thousand thoughts whipped through my head, with the
foremost being the jolting realization that my position
in this house was not as precarious as I had at first
thought. In fact, I suddenly felt pretty damn smug. But
I wanted to see how much it meant to her.

"You want me, a much older man, to teach your underage
daughter about sex? Do you mean teach, as in 'tell her
about it,' or teach, as in 'actually have sex with?'"

Her hands over her beautiful face muffled her answer,
as if trying to hide from the absurdity of this
conversation, to blank it from her mind.

"What? I didn't quite catch that." So I lied, big deal.
I had heard just fine. I just wanted her to repeat it
for posterity, and to make really, really, really sure.

"Have sex with. I want you to have sex with my under-
aged teenage daughter and show her how wonderful it can
be. Whatever it takes to do that. Satisfied?" She had
enunciated her answer very carefully, as if speaking to
an idiot or a foreigner. No offense intended. Everyone
does it to foreign visitors. She glared at me across
the table.


She looked at me disbelieving, almost in shock.

"Check that. Let me clarify. I mean, 'No, I'm not
satisfied with your answer'. Don't take that as a 'No'
to the sex part. Yet."

I was grinning at her like an idiot, which I was. I had
the upper hand for the first time and she knew it. She
also didn't like it and knew I was going to rub it in.

"How much sex?"

She glared at me. I kept going.

"What kind of sex? How often? Is she on the pill? You
know I don't use condoms..."

I looked down and then grinned up at her.

"...They don't fit very well, as you well know."

God, this was fun! I had her squirming, dangling at the
end of a short line, the hook set deep.

She actually blushed again. This was amazing. When she
answered, it was not what I expected.

"Do whatever she wants, whatever you want. Just make
her enjoy it. No, wait. Now let me clarify. 'Help' her
enjoy it. Don't 'make' her do anything."

She looked up at me, pleading with her eyes. Damn, she
played unfair!

"Help me, Larry. Help me help her. Please, Larry. I
don't know what to do. I just don't know..."

The tears started then.

Leave it to a woman to cry just when it was getting
fun. Hell, even I'm not that insensitive, and I had
halfway thought she was kidding. She wasn't. She was
serious. I felt like the schmuck I had been acting

I reached over and took both of her hands in one of
mine. I wanted to stop her wringing them, if not to
comfort her. She was clearly nervous and scared I would
turn her down. While doing untold good for my ego, her
request and the implicit trust it placed in me scared
me absolutely shitless. I realized very clearly that no
matter which way I went, there was a more than even
chance I could lose it all. I didn't think I could take

I was quiet for a long time, silently holding her
hands. She wisely let me think of exactly what I wanted
to say. For once.

"First off, I am sincerely sorry about my physical
reaction last night. You are the only woman for me, and
you have been the only one since that first moment I
laid eyes on you. Please believe me."

She nodded. "I know. But it surprised me. Your reaction
seemed somehow, well, inappropriate. I know she's
attractive and that she's growing up - and out - very
fast, but I never sensed you had those kinds of
thoughts about her. If I had, whether it was true or
not, you would have never seen us again.

"And I do believe you think you love me. Geeze, you've
asked me to marry you enough times."

Ouch. That one hurt. All right, so I had proposed to
her within 5 minutes of seeing her the first time. We
had barely been introduced and it popped out of my
mouth. Funny thing is, we both knew I was dead serious.
I had cut down my barrage of proposals a lot in the
last 6 months, mostly just begging with her during,
before and after sex, of which we had a lot. She didn't
seem to mind. She just never accepted. At least now I
knew she had heard me. Maybe one more shot at it? I was
in a good position here, after all.

"Second, she will have to approach me. I won't seduce

As she nodded her agreement, a tear trickled down her

"Third, if it means any chance of losing you, the
answer is 'No.' I will not risk that."

Another nod, more tears.

"Last, I don't want this to create trouble between you
two. I'm not so vain as to think I could turn the head
of a pretty young teenager, but if you two are sharing
the same man on a regular basis..."

I saw her flinch at that comment.

"...there is bound to be an emotional bond that grows
between Janey and me as well, maybe even a little
competition. What happens if she falls in love with me,
or thinks she is? What if she tries to displace you in
my heart? Can you deal with that? You'll have to, as I
don't think I could stop her without crushing her
spirit even more than it is now. I won't risk that,
either. She has been hurt too much."

That last was said almost with vehemence.

A grin spread across her face. She realized I had all
but agreed, and was relieved. And she had thought that
far ahead to contemplate the possible complications and
she was not concerned. That part she could deal with,
or would if and when it happened.

"If you think I am going to lose my man to some fresh-
faced young chippy, you had better think again!"

She looked me directly in the eyes, grinning smugly.

"I've got tricks up my sleeve you haven't even dreamed
about, buster. Experience will beat out youthful
exuberance any day."

God, she was beautiful. But I still had the upper hand.
I wanted something from her, something big. But I
couldn't make her just give it to me because of the
situation. She would resent it later if not now, and so
would I, really. I had to win it fair and square.

"OK. But only on one condition."

She paled. She hated conditions. "What is it?"

"I want to win the bet."

For a minute she had a puzzled look on her face. She
had no idea where I was going. Then she realized I had
said 'the' bet. She grew more perplexed.

"Huh? What makes you think you can win now? Remember
the last time? What's your record, 30 seconds?"
She eyed the silent helmeted observer peeking out from
my robe. She reached over and lightly stroked the dark
head with the tip of her finger. I almost shot my load

"Or do you just want a blow job? I'll give you that
right now, no charge!"

In a shaky voice I responded, "I can win. I have to.
And I want to raise the stakes."

"Oh, really? Remind me of the original bet."

"We, you bet that you could make me cum in less than
one minute using only your mouth, no hands, no tongue,
no suction, no motion."

"And the stakes?"

"If you won, which you did, I was to accompany you to
the opera for six months, my treat, which I have done.
If I won, which I didn't, I was to get to shave your
pussy bald, and help you keep it that way for six

"What do you want to raise the stakes to?"

"Same stakes as before. Plus, if you win, I do anything
you decide."

Sally was quiet for a minute, and then she spoke, "At
first I thought to myself, 'Big deal. He loses and he
gets to fuck my daughter after taking me to the opera.'
But..." she paused for effect, "...anything?"

I nodded.

She paused again. "Anything? You would never, ever ask
me to marry you again, if that's what I wanted?"

I paled. I could even hear the italics in her voice.
She knew me too well. I nodded my agreement. Slowly.

"Those are pretty big stakes. You must really want
something big. What do I have to do for you if you win
on a fluke? Come on, what do you want, Stud?"

In answer, I said nothing. I simply played with the
shiny golden ring on the little finger of my left hand.
It was a simple band, but designed for a much smaller
hand. One more her size. It had been there almost 18
months, in constant readiness. I was ready if she ever
changed her mind and said "Yes" to one of my proposals.

She followed my gaze to my hands. She saw the ring.

"Oh. Larry, I... we... Oh, shit!"

I waited for the explosion that never came. I waited
for her to turn down the bet. She had turned them down
before when she felt the stakes were too high. I waited

"Five minutes. I get five minutes to make you cum."


It was a shout of spontaneous joy after a lifetime of
hopelessness. My heart leaped in my chest. She had
agreed to the bet! We were simply negotiating the
details. I had not dared hope she would agree. I had
only wanted to get it back on the table and move her
closer to what I considered the inevitable. But, shit,
5 minutes. I was not made of stone. We had proven that
the last time!

"I mean, No! Not 5 minutes. 90 seconds," I countered.

"Four minutes."


"Three." It was all the concession I was going to get
and we both knew it. God help me.


Chapter 5

"... But I get to make one condition to be specified
only after you agree. Take it or leave it."

I was praying she would leave it. There was no fucking
way I could last that long in that moist steaming
cauldron of her sexy mouth, so hot and moist, tight...
Stop it, you idiot! You'll lose before you start!

"OK. When do you want to lose?"

Oh, shit I'm a goner. Maybe if I go jack off for a
month solid...

"Right now. But I can't lose."

Her head snapped up so fast, I thought she would get
whiplash. She knew, she could bloody see the condition
I was in and what condition my cock was in. She could
see it throbbing, lusting at her. She had seen me
almost lose it when she had merely stroked it with her
fingertip. We hadn't had intercourse for more than a
week, because of the last week's events. I was loaded
for bear and we both knew it. Shit, it was already
glistening with oozing pre-cum in anticipation of her
warm mouth engulfing it. Soft and warm, gently
surrounding the throbbing head, even if only for one
brief moment... STOP IT.

She got up without another word and moved beside my
chair. I turned my chair so she was between my legs.
All she had to do was kneel down, lean forward and win
the bet. She started to kneel down. I had to delay her
for a minute. Focus on something else. I looked around
the kitchen frantically for a diversion.

"Wait. I had a condition."

She grinned at me, confident, too confident. I had to
change our positions, somehow. Re-establish the
smugness I had felt earlier, sort of.

"You're going to blindfold me?"

She batted her eyes. She knew me too well. But it did
give me an idea. Maybe...

In answer, I reached up and loosened the black silk
rope holding her robe closed. I pulled it free from the
belt loops.

"Turn around."

She did with saucy flip of her hips, a dare, a

I made a loop at one end of belt and slipped it over
her wrist. I pulled that wrist behind her into the
small of her back. She resisted slightly as I caught
her other hand and gently pulled it back behind her.
She was strangely quiet and there was a visible tremor
to her whole body. The sauce had mellowed.

"Please, not this..."

It was a barely audible whisper. But she stopped before
she finished.

"What did you say?"

She cleared her throat.

"Nothing. Just a bad memory."

I secured the two wrists together behind her. There was
rope left over, and I figured 'What the hell. Let's go
for broke.' I wound the rope up and around her forearms
to her elbows, pulling each wind a little tighter,
drawing her elbows towards each other. In testament to
her flexibility, when I finished, they were touching.
She had not made another sound. I touched her hip to
indicate she could face me.

"Oh... My... God!"

I was unprepared for the sight I beheld. Tying her
hands behind her back and forcing her elbows together
had the glorious effect of forcing her chest out
through the open robe. They were standing proudly up
thrust, firm and quivering with her - what - fear?
Anger? She was definitely shaking.

Whether it was the conversation, the cool air
conditioning, or (dare I hope?) her reaction to
bondage, her nipples betrayed her arousal as did the
distinctive odor of her visibly dripping pussy. Even
her swollen clit was visible. I had about as much of
the upper hand as I was ever going to get with this
wonderful woman. It was now or never.

I set my watch on chronograph and zeroed it out. I
placed it on the arm of the chair facing her so we
could both see it. She kneeled down in front of me.
Instead of initiating the bet, as she usually did, she
waited for my signal.

I nodded to her. "Now."

I waited until she had the head fully in her mouth
before I started the timer. One of her eyebrows raised
in a silent question.

I answered her with, "Just so there is no question when
I win."

I sounded way more confident that I felt.

As she couldn't nod without defaulting, she merely
lowered the eyebrow and closed her eyes. She shut me
out, trying to help me win! Damn it all and fuck that
shit. I got mad.

"I'll call the whole thing off right now if you don't
try to win!" I snapped at her. I reached down and
lifted her mouth off my cock.

"I-I-I'm ccccuuuummminnnggg," she gasped, visibly

In a flash, ashamed, I was beside her on the floor,
supporting her sagging body. Her breath stabilized
after a long while, evening out as she lay heavily
against my chest.

"Here, let me untie you. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to
tie it so tight. It was stupid."

She shook her head, stopping me.

"No. Wait! Yes, but later. It's just been a long time
since..." Again she didn't finish.

"Want to tell me about it?" I asked.

"Later, Lover. Damn, you're good..." Her sense of humor
was back, anyway.

Catching her breath, she asked in a strangely
submissive voice, "May I try again?"

I swore there was an unspoken word at the end of that
sentence. Something like "Sir," or "Master." Or maybe I
was dreaming.

"You sure you're up to it?"

She snorted. "Are you? Oh, yes. I can see you are..."

I sat back up in the chair and scooted my butt forward
to the edge of the seat. My iron hard prick stood
straight up from my groin, within easy reach of her
mouth. Again she waited for my signal.

I reset the clock to zero. Her eyes widened. And I
thought I saw a malicious twinkle in them. Good, at
least she was getting back to normal.


As before, she leaned forward. Knowing I wouldn't start
the clock until she had the whole head in her mouth,
she took her time getting it all in. And, if the clock
wasn't running, the restrictions of the bet didn't
apply. She kissed and lathered and sucked and bobbed
and tongued all around the tip of my cock, driving me
fucking ape-shit. This was the competitor I knew and
loved. But two could play that game.

Very smoothly I moved my shin to place my foot to about
where I guessed her crotch would be. When her mouth was
centered over my prick, I moved my foot up so it just
caressed her pussy. Surprised at the sudden contact,
she gasped, opening her mouth. I thrust up with my hips
and her lips engulfed the entire head.

I started the clock.

She did her damnedest to win this time. Her sexy eyes
never left mine. She had that sultry look down cold,
and was beating down my resistance with those devilish
dancing green eyes.

At 30 seconds I was sweating. The heat generated by her
mouth was incredible. I could feel her heartbeat and
mine both in the head of my cock. The more I
concentrated on the twin beats, the closer they got.

At 45 seconds our heartbeats synchronized. I tried to
blank my mind, but all I could see was Janey in her
mother's place, kneeling submissively before me, her
lips nestled at the base of my cock.

I quit trying to blank my mind. The way I was going
that was a sure-fire way to loose.

At 60 seconds, trickles of sweat coalesced and trailed
down my chest and pooled in my navel. This was more
effective than a sauna!

Her eyes suddenly began dancing, sparkling with a
vitality I had never seen in her before. When my foot,
still directly under her crotch, got wet, I knew she
had cum again. But she hadn't defaulted by moving,
moaning or sucking. I glanced at the clock. She had cum at 90 seconds. We're only halfway. God! I'll never make
it! Her eyes flicked to the clock with mine, then
snapped back to capture them again. I never thought of
looking away. I should have.

If I had thought she was trying before, I was badly
mistaken. Her current efforts at seductive 'come
hither' looks were beyond anything I had seen before.
The looks she gave me for the next 90 seconds would
have seduced a statue.

She almost won. She took advantage of my foot below her
and slowly lowered her body, capturing my foot with her
sopping cunt. Her only reaction when I wiggled my big
toe was to slightly close her eyes, shudder a bit and
shift so it wasn't directly over her clit. I shifted it
back, grinning at her and began a steady rotation of my
toe over her button.

With my foot sort of trapped beneath her, she slowly
turned her body without moving her head, letting her
stiff nipples scratch along the hairs of my thigh, one
after the other. I'll bet you never considered your
legs as an erogenous zone. I sure hadn't. I do now.

The ends of the armrests on my chair snapped off
suddenly in my death grip as the timer crawled towards
the 3-minute mark. My eyes darted back and forth
between her eyes and the timer like a trapped animal.


I could have recited every poem I have ever learned in
the space of time from then until the end. And I was a
poetry minor in college.


God could have done all 7 days of creation here. Twice.




I didn't cum. As surprised as I was, Sally was even
more so. For the first time I saw something in her eyes
that bordered on true respect. She respected control,
especially the ability to control one's sexual urge.
She'd had to do so all her life. Her daughter did as
well. I may have been the first person, male person,
anyway, she could truly respect in that way.


She was now waiting patiently at my feet, a stillness
about her. She had lost, but knew I still had something
to prove. She sat there, a beautiful woman, hands bound
behind her, quietly fucking herself on my toe and
caressing my thighs with her nipples, waiting for me;
for what I wanted. I felt her cum dripping steadily
down my foot, the contractions on my toes delightful. A
pool of her juices was forming at my heel.


Her mouth must have been sore by now. But she had never
moved, sucked or tongued throughout. Still I lasted.
She waited with me, for me.


Chapter 6


It was a quiet command to her, as well as a warning to
her that I was going to flood her mouth. We came
together. I had so much stored jism pumping into her
oral cavity, it flowed out her nose. It dripped to the
floor beneath my chair.

I sat back in the chair, and placed the broken armrests
on the table. I would fix them later. Right now, I was
totally drained, exhausted, exhilarated. I had won! I
didn't even want to think about what would have
happened if I had lost. I had won! We would marry.

I understood she had not agreed to a time frame and I
grinned, thinking of the next bet we would make in
order to set the date. I was about to mention this to
her, but stopped as I watched her thoroughly clean my
semi-erect cock with her tongue. She then bent
completely over and licked my foot clean. She proceeded
from there to lick up the drops of cum, hers and mine,
that had fallen to the kitchen floor.

Sitting back on her heels when she finished, she waited
for me to speak, but I was speechless. I was not used
to this behavior, had never seen it before, but was
damned sure I could get used to it real quick. If I
could just figure out what was going on.

A slight motion of my hand, and she slipped up and
settled on my lap, facing me, one leg out to either
side of my hips. My stiffening organ nestled against
her gaping cunt, and as I hardened and lengthened, she
shifted back and forth so that it grew up into her. As
it stiffened, I felt her contract almost continuously,
her green eyes now lidded.

I lifted her knees, bringing her feet off the floor.
This forced her to settle completely on my cock with
her entire weight. A tremendous sob tore from her as
she gasped out my name.

"Oh, Laaarry!" The pressure her muscles exerted on me
felt like she was going to snap my cock off at the
base. As she slowly relaxed from this major climax, she
tipped forward and nestled her face in the crook of my
neck. For a while I thought she was asleep until I felt
her lips gently working.

Damn! A hickey! That mischievous minx! I had an
important meeting on Friday with a new client.

Without thinking, I swatted at her ass with my open
hand. It was just a light slap, honest! I was not
prepared for her response. It was as if every muscle in
her body, including those gripping my prick for dear
life, contracted at their greatest strength. Her legs
shot rigid out behind the chair. Her back arched even
more, offering her glorious breasts to my mouth. This
seizure/climax seemed to last forever, until she could
finally gasp out a plea.

"God! Shit! Fuck! Oh, God! Please, Larry. Stop for a
minute. Uuuhhh. We have, uuuhhh, to talk."

I stopped toying with her tits reluctantly. I waited
for her to get off my prick. I waited for her to ask to
be untied. Her arms must be aching by now. I waited.

She didn't move off my staff, nor did she ask to be
released. She jumped right in, no hesitation this time.

"My last boyfriend... You have to know... He hurt Janey.... And me...."

She was speaking in gasps. I shushed her, bringing my
lips to hers. She stayed right there in my face,
resting her forehead on mine, her nose smashed against
mine. I traced her lips with my tongue, tasting myself
on her. In many ways, this felt more intimate than
fucking her.

"Gary was my last boyfriend before you, about four
years ago."

I did the math in my head. Janey had been ten or eleven
years old.

"We had been together a long time, two years or so, and
over time, I came to relax my guard around him. I guess
I let myself believe we were in love, although I knew
we weren't.

"He was good with Janey at first, spending time with
her, rough-housing as only a guy can with a young girl.
She seemed to like him. They were inseparable on
weekends, and, after she was in bed, he would fuck me
silly. Things were great for the first 6 months or so.

"Then one night he said he wanted to try something
different. He used a belt or something and tied me to
the bed. I went wild. It was the most exciting thing I
had ever experienced up until then. I mean, I knew what
bondage was, and had dabbled, but Gary took it serious.
When he tied me up, it was for real, even that first

"He saw my reaction to it and rapidly introduced me to
more and more bondage and domination, the stricter the
better. I got hooked on it, really hooked. It was the
closest thing I have ever had to an addiction. When I
was tied up, I felt exhilaration, a real rush. For the
first time in my life, I could relax sexually, let go.
When I was bound, I was free.

"It sounds strange, but try to understand. All my life
I had had to maintain control over my sex drive. But
when I was tied up, it was as if I wasn't in control
anymore. I could give full vent to my passionate side.
It was a heady, dangerous thing to do, but I gave into
it. I surrendered to it totally and, unfortunately, to

"I didn't know Gary was deeper into it than I was,
actually closer to S&M. Humiliation, my humiliation,
began to play an increasingly greater part of our
playtimes, or 'scenes,' as he called them. I won't go
into everything that went on, but I can't think of
anything that he didn't make me do. Nothing was too
disgusting or vile. He used just enough bondage to keep
me hooked, and I crawled willingly along after him.

"Gary had a great thing going. He bragged about it to
his friends. First he just brought them over to show me
off; first just one, then two, then more. At one party,
he let someone else tie me up. The next, someone else
whipped me. Then he gave me away sexually to his
friends. Parties, weekends, you name it.

"Then one day Janey came home early from a friend's
house and caught me being fucked by five men and two
women, all strangers. Gary pulled her over and told her
to watch her slut mother service each one of the guests
at the party. He told her it would be good for her to
learn what she was going to become one day. He then
held her up against his naked body, with her back
pressed to his limp cock dribbling cum down her white
cotton blouse. He held her there and forced her to
watch her mother suck the women and fuck the men. I
kicked him out the next day and haven't seen him since.

"She was just eleven, but she understood I was torn
between satisfying my sexual needs and the hating
humiliation and pain he made me suffer through to get
the satisfaction I craved. That was when we began to
discover the full extent of the bond - that link I told
you about that we have between us. I wouldn't have made
it through that time without Janey's help. She would
sense when I was getting antsy and keep me busy,
usually with a behavior crisis of her choosing. God,
she could be a real brat. She had to be, to keep me
busy enough to get over my own emotional ups and downs.

"It was only after I was pretty much back to an even
keel that I began to sense her loss. Until you, Gary
was the only man she had ever known. He was her father-
figure, sort of."

I interrupted her. I had to ask.

"What happened to her real father?"

She opened her eyes and gazed myopically into mine. She
was too close to focus, but I sensed the hesitation and
the pain in them. With a sigh, she answered.

"Her father and I were married when I was 19. He was
much older, a businessman and I was a trophy wife. He
saw me at the local college campus where I was a
sophomore. I didn't understand my place was on the
shelf, to be quiet and look pretty. I wanted the fairy
tale, love, romance, sex, children...

"He was a businessman, like I said, and not a good one.
His grandfather or great-grandfather had invented those
metal grommets for the shoelace holes in shoes. Imagine
how many of those things there are, 24 or more per pair
of shoes, more in boots. Instant bazillionaire. By the
time my husband got the company, though, the patents
had run out and the business was all but dead. After a
series of bad investments, me being one of them, he
made a last attempt to merge with another company, but
in the process lost it all. It was a shady deal, but he
was greedy and got stupid. He died within a week. I
think when he realized how badly he had been taken, the
shock of it killed him. He was a very proud man.

"The new partners had set up a sizable insurance policy
with the new merger - a Key man Policy, or something
like that. It was supposed to be his part of the
contract. The bastards had reduced their costs by
limiting the life of the policy to 30 days. My husband
died 3 days before the expiration date. Nine months
later Janey was born. His last two acts, he finally got
it right. I'm sorry he never got to meet Janey. It
might have made a difference... He would have made a
great father."

It hurt her to talk about it. This was her failure,
too. Or she saw them that way.

"Anyway, it took forever for the Insurance Company to
pay off. They suspected suicide, then all but accused
me of murder. The only thing was, neither of us had
known about the policy. I wasn't even supposed to be
the beneficiary. Some ditzy secretary had automatically
filled in my name as beneficiary, and no one had
checked it. They had exaggerated his value to the
merged company by several millions of dollars, much
more than his whole company was worth or had been worth
for several years. And I got it all. Tax-free."

Several of the missing pieces to the puzzle of the past
were falling into place; just a couple more for now,
and then more for the future.

"Where do we go from here, my love?"

She sat up and looked me in the eye. She took a while,
apparently looking for something. Or was she probing my
emotions, my feelings? I felt something snooping around
in my head, I think. I don't know. It felt strange,
like someone else was in there with me.

What passed between us just then, together with what we
had experienced earlier seemed to grow and merge within
the two of us, becoming something real. A part of me
was in her, a part of her was in me. I know, that
sounds corny. I never believed that shit, either. I
just don't know how else to explain it, but something
inside of us had touched the other. Maybe that's what
they mean by having an epiphany. If it is, we had one.

And it was great.

We knew each other better now, and in a different way.
She was finally convinced I was not Gary, that I had no
hidden agenda, and I would not lead her down the same
path of shame and humiliation, nor would I subject her
daughter to that humiliation. She didn't know, nor did
I what path we would go down from here, but she trusted
me. With my cock still embedded deep within her, she
playfully squeezed me with her cunt muscles.

She kissed my lips lightly and gave me an impish smile
before casting her twinkling eyes downward, bowing her
head in a voluntary submissive posture. What she said
next thrilled me to my core, and set the course for a
major part of the next phase of our relationship.

"Anywhere you want, I will follow you..."

This time, the missing word was added.


Chapter 7

I had won the bet. She would be my bride at last.
'When' was another question altogether, but the 'if'
part was now gone.

More to the immediate point of settling up the bet, my
Sally had a bare pussy by noon. With all the frivolity
and ribald comments during the procedure, I think we
were both surprised there were no nicks or cuts. By
2:00 in the afternoon, I would estimate I had consumed
at least a gallon of her cum. There is something about
a smooth, hairless cunt that just tastes better. We
were both looking forward to the frequent touch-ups. It
was to become one of our favorite times together.

Originally, I had chosen this wager for the bet because
I knew she wouldn't like it. Now, neither of us could
understand why we had not done this earlier. She was so
much more sensitive, responsive, and accessible. She
would be shaved much longer than six months.

We were lying on the bed, head to toe. Or rather, heads
to groins. I rolled over on my back, keeping her on top
of me. I slowly moved my tongue over the length of her
swollen slit. The aroma of all of the day's play
combined into a heady mix. It was heavenly. My limp
cock stirred.

She must have had her eyes open, as she immediately
sucked in the pink head swelling right under her nose.
Her next actions told me she was bent on bringing me
off as fast as she could.

"Slow down, my love. Go to completion, but make it
last." These commands were delivered around languorous
licks to her slippery cunt.

She immediately slowed her actions, but she intensified
the suction. It felt like she was trying to suck my
balls up through my penis like chunks of strawberry
fruit in a real milkshake that get stuck in the straw.
I focused on her pleasure to take my mind off the
feelings growing in my balls. I partially succeeded.
She came three times before I exploded into her mouth.

Only then did I release her arms. She hadn't asked me
to even then, but she had been bound for over 5 hours,
without one complaint. She was very still as I massaged
her shoulders, working out the kinks. When she stirred,
I stopped. She rolled over, reached up and pulled me
down to her. She held me so tight, I thought she would
never let me go, and with the strength of her embrace,
I knew I would never be able to break away. Not that I
wanted to. She moved her lips to my ear.

"Thank you." Just that, nothing more. Nothing more was

And then the old Sally was back. She was in control,
sure of herself, feisty, my lover, my equal.

It wasn't rocket science. But this much I had figured
out: When she was bound, I was in total control. She
didn't even want a safe-word. She had to explain what
that was to me later. When she was free, we were
equals. We both agreed we could live with that. Even
better, I got to decide when she was bound and when she
was free.

She said she had things to take care of and got up.
'Life goes on,' or something like that. I don't know
how she did it, where she got her energy. I was

The first thing I did was take a short nap. Then I
checked on Janey. I wasn't being selfish by sleeping
first. I had seen Sally go in to check on her first
thing after she left our bed. She hadn't seemed anxious
for her the entire time we had been 'playing,' but we
both knew our concern for her was just below the
surface. One noise from her, and it would have ended
immediately. Anyway, Sally had looked down the hall at
me as she exited Janey's room, gave me a bright smile
and the 'OK' sign.

When I checked a couple of hours later, she was still
sleeping soundly, but seemed a little less troubled.
She had tossed the light covers off and one very long
leg and one slim arm were exposed; or would have been
exposed, except she was wearing her tracksuit. The rape
counselor mentioned she might prefer that. Immediately
after a sexual assault, most victims can't come to
terms with their bodies and try to hide them
completely. The bulkier and more misshapen the clothes
the better to remove any hint of gender-oriented form.

Janey looked as if she had three or four layers under
the normally sleek suit. She looked like an
advertisement for that Eddie Murray movie where he
wears a body suit to add a hundred or so pounds. She
even had the ankle and wrist zippers closed and she was
wearing her slippers. I noticed the hood was up over
her head and the drawstring tied under her chin, as if
she were trying to cover herself entirely up. A
twisting knot developed in my gut and tried to rip my
heart out as I began to understand the depth of her
pain, confusion, and hurt. I swore right then and there
that, as bizarre a plan as her mom had proposed, if
that would help Janey, my Janey heal, I would do it,
whatever it took, even if I had to risk losing Sally.

I covered her arm and leg, tucked her in and kissed her
forehead. I had to wipe away a few tears that had
fallen on her from somewhere. They couldn't have been
from me - I never cry. I offered up another fervent
prayer for her quick and total recovery.

I wandered around the quiet house and ended in the
family room. I heard Sally bustling around in the
cellar. It sounded as if she was dragging several large
boxes or crates around and vacuuming. I vaguely
wondered why she would be cleaning the basement, but
dismissed it.

The family room was a comfortable room, like the rest
of the house. It was hard to imagine any room decorated
by Sally that didn't reflect her personality. Of
course, I was just a tad biased.

I turned on the tv and flipped through the channels,
finding nothing worth watching. I scanned the bookshelf
for titles I had read. I could only find a couple I had
even heard of, much less read. No trashy novels here.
It was quiet in the basement again. I looked around the
room and saw a telephone on the desk. That reminded me
that there was something I had to do.

I called the opera house. No, I didn't cancel. I
renewed my season tickets, upgraded to a full season,
and added one seat to the account for Janey. Sally had
joined me in the living room and listened to the phone
call in silence. As I place the telephone back in the
cradle on the desk, I turned to face her to see what
she wanted.

She attacked me.

Not in a mean spirited way, but with sharp fingernails
jabbing for ticklish, tender areas, throw pillows
actually used for throwing, knees, elbows, head-butts.
My gentle little wife-to-be was intent on some serious

The robes we had thrown on upon leaving her bedroom
were the first casualties. Mine came untied in the
first assault and she tried to use the belt to trip me
up. I managed to snag hers on the second lap around the
sofa. The black silk rope belt we had put to such good
use earlier in the day got tangled in the belt loops
and she shimmied out of the robe so I wouldn't use it
to pull her in. Seeing her boobs bouncing around her
chest was extremely distracting, and I tended to spend
more time watching them move than paying attention to
where I was going.

I was at a bit of a disadvantage. I didn't know what
the rules of this particular game were, or if there
even were any. I still don't know, and don't care, as
we were having a tremendously good time, laughing and
screaming. I bellowed as she drenched me with the water
from a vase of flowers, and I discarded my dripping
robe, more to limit the water damage than anything. I
discovered a cache of rubber bands in a desk drawer.
She shrieked as if mortally wounded as I shot them at
her across the desk. I had her on the run for a while,
her ass and tits my favorite targets. Then my ammo ran

I retreated in earnest after the first swat of the fly
swatter she discovered discarded behind an easy chair
caught my pecker broadside. She had been aiming for my
butt, but I turned suddenly. I hollered "Shit," grabbed
my jewels and started backing away from her in a panic.
A look of horror crossed her face as she realize where
she had struck me, but she quickly recovered from her
shock, shrugged an "I'm sorry" at me, and immediately
tried to hit it again, albeit with much less force.

Fuck this shit! I was going to do the honorable thing
and run like hell in retreat. I had both hands in the
basic 'save the family jewels' position, and was
backing away from her as fast as I could. I intended to
get to a small room with a locking door, but she was
always one step ahead of me and herded me around the
room like a cowboy cutting cattle. Damn, she was fast!

By the time I backed into and tripped over the arm of
the sofa, landing in the dead cockroach position, I was
a mass of red blotches. Nothing vital was injured, but
Sally took every opening to torment me. She gleefully
pounced on this new opportunity to attack my
unprotected feet and calves as they waved in the air
above me.

After several bellows and cries for mercy she said,
"Say 'Uncle!' If you give, say 'Uncle.'"

Call me macho, call me a male chauvinist pig, call me
stupid, call me what you want, but there is just
something that gets stuck in my throat when I think
about crying 'Uncle' to a girl. It has been like that
ever since my Dad told me that I was a boy and had to
be tough, but then I realized he had a different set of
rules for my sister. I made the mistake of hesitating
to surrender and tried to grab my feet to try to
protect them. The tip of the incessant swatter
instantly found my uncovered privates. That was all it


She shouted, "I WIN!" and tossed her superior weaponry
over her shoulder. I made a mental note to get rid of
that fucking thing the first chance I had.

Whooping and cheering, she dove on my prone body,
covering the myriad red blotches with smoochy kisses
and "Mommy will make it feel better"-type comments. She
was really rubbing it in that she had 'whupped' a 6'3"
man that had about 100 solid, not flabby, pounds on
her. She was all over me, touching, caressing, and
rubbing. I didn't realize she had maneuvered me to the
middle of the sofa until she suddenly settled her
freshly shorn cunt over my face and announced,

"I want my reward!"

I had been planning on being a sore loser, pouting for
a while, but when presented with her own pouting lips
staring me in the face, I felt I could be gracious in
defeat. I grabbed her hips, pulled her down, rolled and
stiffened my tongue and shoved it as far up her ass as
I could.

Her shriek of surprise shattered into giggles. I hadn't
been sure of her reaction to rimming, but she sure
seemed to enjoy it. I wasn't aware of how much she
enjoyed it until she attacked my soft, sore, tired dick
with a ferocity I had not experience that often from
her heretofore.

The way she was going at it, I was more than a little
fearful she would suck it off and swallow it, as that
seemed what she was determined to do. I had hoped to
distract her by fingering her cunt and clit in addition
to tongue-fucking her asshole, but to my amazement and
immense pleasure, she swallowed more and more of my
increasing length as I stiffened.

She gagged slightly as the bulging head slipped down
her throat, but she didn't withdraw. She forced down a
couple of more inches as I became fully hard. I
switched holes, using my tongue in her cunt and my
finger in her ass. She became frantic in her suction,
as if her life depended on it.

Until now, I had never experienced this. Blowjobs,
sure, lots of them, some pretty good, but no one had
ever been able to completely swallow my erect cock. If
I may say so myself, my equipment is a noticeable
upgrade from the standard, average issue, in length,
width, and head size. Ever since Junior High School and
the first fumbling attempts at sex, the girls so
privileged to observe it have been at once fascinated
and frightened when they encountered my cock in an
excited state. So, now, with my cock completely
consumed for the first time ever, I was in absolute
'pig-in-shit' heaven. Bliss. Nirvana. I saw bright
lights, heard angels playing harps, talked with

When I stopped paying attention to her needs, Sally
began gnawing at the base of my cock with her sharp
white teeth. It wasn't exactly gentle either, and I
began to recount all the things I had said and done up
to this point, wondering if I had made a grand
miscalculation somewhere along the way. Then I opened
my eyes, saw a different set of pearly gates, and
remembered I was supposed to be doing something for
her, too. The gnawing didn't stop as I resumed my
duties, but it did lessen a bit. I think.

I don't know how she timed it. Intuition, perception,
maybe she had a link with me, too. But just as I was
becoming truly concerned for the survival of that most
important of my organs, she slipped a moistened finger
up my tightly clenched asshole. I experienced only a
slight discomfort from the intrusion. Like most guys, I
hadn't had much experience with things up my ass other
than my doctor's finger, but I thought I was doing OK
with it and was even planning to escalate the situation
by increasing the number of fingers up her ass to two.
At least, that was my plan until she twisted her tiny
little finger around and massaged my prostate.

I shot my load unexpectedly into her sucking throat. It
was extremely painful. It hurt so bad I passed out. She
told me later that I made a really weird sound, too,
when I shot my wad into her greedy mouth. Like someone
strangling a saxophone. I didn't appreciate finding her
leaning over me, laughing lightly as I regained

"Thank you." That's all she said.

My mind raced. For what, her reward? Losing to her?
Passing out? Help me, please!

"You're welcome. And thank you, back."

Good. Real good. Meat-head.

"What for?" Apparently it was OK for her to ask.

"Thank you for letting me in, really in."

Score one for the side with penises! We could think
fast with both heads! Yep, you betcha!

"Oh." The way she snuggled into my chest seemed to
indicate that I had given the right answer. Then the
other shoe dropped.

"What's the matter? Didn't you like the sex?"

She held me in suspense, and finally collapsed in a
wonderfully ticklish mass of giggles. We were gentler
with each other this time, and she allowed me to win,
crying 'Uncle' only after I had both her hands pinned
to the sofa above her head and still had one hand free
to torment her breasts, ribs, stomach, etc. I spent a
lot of time at her 'etc.' Even then she held out. I
went very slowly to be positive I didn't miss a single
nerve. Sometimes I went back to check on a particular
area again and again. It was a long slow torture for
her until she finally gasped her surrendering 'Uncle."
But only after she climaxed several times.

Her shrieks and peals must have woken Janey. Or it may
have been the racket we made earlier destroying the
family room. Or it could have been all the activity on
their 'link.' Regardless, the traumatized teen was
awake and wandering the house. She was still groggy
from the sedatives the doctor had prescribed for her to
help her sleep.
The first we knew she was awake was when Sally sensed
her in the doorway of the family room. In retrospect,
seeing your mom and her boyfriend stark naked, their
faces buried in each other's crotches probably wasn't
the best thing to see right after being brutally raped.
Sally tried to think of something to say, but it's hard
to say something socially acceptable and gracious when
your mouth has a death grip on 10 inches of thick pulsing cock. And a very determined man is gnawing your
hypersensitive clit at the same time. We were
performing a classic '69' on the sofa in the middle of
the afternoon.

Sally slowly pulled her head up off my groin, exposing
my fully hardened length to her daughter for the first
time. She focused on her special link with daughter and
her own extreme happiness and contentedness penetrated
the shell that had begun to harden around Janey,
bringing a spark of life back to the battered girl.

"Hi, honey. How are you feeling?"

"OK, I guess, but not as good as you! Geeze, Mom." She
surveyed the shambles of the room. "No more parties for
you, young lady!" She paused as she looked back at us,
and then half whispered, "God, is that real?" There was
more than a hint of awe in her voice.

I twitched my freestanding shaft on purpose to show her
I knew to what she was referring. Reluctantly Sally
rolled off my face and sat up. I propped myself up with
my elbows, still stretched out on the sofa. Janey
couldn't take her eyes off my erection. I couldn't take
my eyes off Sally. This was a mother bear with a
wounded cub. No way in Hell was I going to make a
misstep here.

Sally looked at me, saw where we were both looking, and
shrugged. We weren't going to be able to ease into
this. All plans for a gradual phase in were off.

"Janey, honey, we need to talk." She patted the cushion
next to her.
Janey looked first at me, then at her mother, tearing
her eyes away from my cock for a moment. I could see
the indecision in the teenager's eyes, the fear and the
pain as she remembered what happened the last time that
she saw a man in my condition. I could also see that
the sexual instincts she shared with Sally were being
activated. Her tearing, blinking eyes reflected the
battle within. I wondered what she was going to do. Was
she going to bolt and maybe never be reachable again or
was she going to stay?
Then, almost imperceptibly, she straightened and I saw
that a decision had been reached. She got that funny
little grin on her face. Her eyes began to shine a
little brighter as her trust in her mother made the
decision for her. She padded toward us, slowly at
first, then with more confidence, more like the old Janey, and I knew she had made the decision to heal, to
become Janey again and not hide from who she was.
At that moment I was almost convinced that Sally's plan
was the way to go. With this first sign from Janey that
what her mother had said about her was really true, I
was beginning to be at ease with what I had been asked
to do. There was a long way to go, but Janey was
willing to take that journey and now so was I.

The teenager came over and sat between us. She never
took her eyes from my crotch.

"Larry proposed to me today."

"Aww, Mom, he does that all the time."

"I know. But this time, I, uh, accepted." I noticed
there was no mention that I had had to win a tough bet.
I figured discretion was the wiser course and kept
quiet. I could brag about it later, if it ever came up.

Mother and daughter, looking enough alike to be twins,
went through the obligatory female ritual of squeals
and hugs that seems required after such an
announcement. I rolled my eyes at Sally, who was
looking at me over Janey's shoulder. She made a face
and stuck her tongue out at me.

Janey turned to me and hugged me, too, catching me off
guard by her sudden move. I was, after all, stark naked
and very noticeably aroused. She froze after a
momentary hug, her arms still around my neck. I figured
she had just figured out what that pointy thing was
that was jabbing into her side, just below her tits. I
waited for her to wail, cry out, slap me, run from the
room, something. I did not expect her to cling tighter
to my neck, almost strangling me in the process.

"Ssshhh. It will be OK." I softly cooed to the silky
golden hair peeking out of the hooded sweatshirt she
was wearing. Her strands of hair tickled my nose. How
do they always get it to smell so goddamn sexy?
"Everything will be all right. I promise."

I looked up at Sally for help. A fat lot of good that
did. She was doubled over, holding her sides, her fist
stuffed in her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
Very funny, ha, ha.

"I know that. Just make my mom happy for now. I need
her to be happy."

"I know. She needs to be happy to help you get well. I
promise I will do my very best."

I kicked at Sally with my foot, trying to get her to
jump in, to say something to help me get out of this
before I did something stupid and scared her daughter away before we even got started. My efforts resulted in
her rolling on the floor, holding her sides. Tears were
streaming down her face and she was making no attempt
to keep quiet now. She thought this was hilarious. I
plowed on.

"But what about you, can I do anything for you?"
Pushing it, I know, but hey, you would, too, with a
traumatized teenage girl lying on top of your very hard
and very erect erection. "If you ever need

She giggled, and then gasped. Apparently that link
thing had kicked in with me this time and she
understood what 'anything' meant. I felt her hesitate,
then "Not right now, Larry. I'm too sore. Even just
walking in here hurts. And I'm definitely not ready for
that thing, yet." That last word was added with extra
meaning. I understood. She was one tough young lady. I
wasn't going to scare her off. And it would take a Hell
of a lot more than an adolescent rapist to knock her
out of life, too. She was going to be OK.

"I know, baby. But when you are ready let me know, OK?"

I felt her nod. I changed my tone of voice to what I
imagined a scolding father's would be.

"And one more thing, young lady; you are one absolutely
beautiful girl. If you keep on running around with
nothing on but things like that sexy thick old sweat
suit that you have on now, throwing your gorgeous,
cloth-covered tits in my face like you are now, I may
just have to take you over my lap and spank you. On
your beautiful cotton terrycloth padded ass. I mean
hard, until it's as red as a tomato and you are as hot
as a firecracker." I reached down and gave her a
playful, very gentle, swat on her padded behind. God,
even through what felt like three or four layers of
clothing, those rubbery cheeks felt delicious...

She rose up to check if I was joking, her eyes wide in
shock. When she saw my shit-eating grin looking up at
her, she knew she had been had. She made a face,
reached down and wrapped her slender fingers in a fist
and hit me as hard as she could in the solar plexus. It
took me by surprise and she winded me. First time since
Junior High. Damn! I half expected her to stick out her
tongue, too.

"Same goes for you, too, stud. All this hot, hard cock
meat waving out in the open just might make me do
something rash, too." With that, she kissed me lightly
on the cheek, bounced up and landed with a knee right
where she had just hit me. Damn! She got me twice!

As I lay there gasping for breath, the two women
currently in my life, one naked, the other wearing
every sweat suit she owned, ran out of the family room
hand in hand, laughing hysterically at my perplexed
expression as I watched my exhausted, tired, and
abandoned shaft wilt in the sudden stillness of the
empty room.

I was in way over my head.

Chapter 8

On the following Monday I drove Janey to school. Normal
attendance at the school had been suspended for almost
a week after the attack because of the hoopla and the
police and FBI investigation, so she hadn't missed that
many classes. Janey had wanted to ride the bus as
usual, but Sally was insistent and won this one. It was
on my way to my office, and I had several other errands
to do that couldn't wait much longer. Everyone knew
Sally and Janey from the news, but no one knew me, as I
had stayed in the background and out of the cameras. A
habit from my old job, I guess. As a result, I could
pretty much go into town unnoticed.

It was a pretty quiet ride for the most part, which was
unusual. Not that Janey was a chatterbox, but we had
always been able to talk. It was obvious she was
worried about her reception at school, among other
things weighing heavily on her mind. Janey had her
cheerleading outfit and pom-poms stuffed in a bag on
the floor by her feet. She had decided, on her own, to
resign from the squad. Sally and I both thought it was
a mistake to make this decision so soon, but Sally had
been unable to talk her out of it. I thought I would
give it a shot.

"Gee. I'm sure going to miss that cheerleading outfit."

She looked at me with a puzzled look, her curiosity
piqued, but already suspecting that that extraneous
comment was an attempt to get her to change her mind
about resigning from the squad. Her guard was up.


I repeated myself. "I'm going to miss that cheerleading

No response from the far side of the car. I thought I
had better elaborate. Hell, I had started out by saying
the first thing that came to mind. I went with it. I
can't lie to save a penny, but I can prevaricate with
the best of them.

"Well, you see, your mom and I play this game sometimes
when you're not home. We didn't think you'd mind. It
was her idea actually. See, she pretends to be a
cheerleader, I'm this hot-shit jock. We go to the High
School and sneak under the bleachers. Yada yada yada."
This was almost too close to the truth of what happened
to her, but it was too late to stop by the time I
realized where I was going with it.

"She is so hot and God, sooooo sexy in that tight
sweater, that short white skirt and those tiny red panties. Yup, we sure had some really hot times under
there, and in the locker rooms, both the boys and the
girls. And the showers - you get the picture. Oh, yeah,
once we did it at center court and almost got caught by
the principal. It was great! I tell you, I'm really
going to really miss that uniform. Oh, shit, then there
was the time in the mud on the 50-yard line. We thought
we'd never get that sweater clean again. Bet you
couldn't tell, could you?"

"You did it center court? In my outfit? Ewww! Gross!"
She pulled her hands off the bag like it was full of
dirty underwear.
We rode in silence for a while.

"You really think mom looks sexy in my outfit?" I
figured she was thinking about how much alike they
looked. If mom was sexy, she was sexy, too, right?

I didn't say anything in response. I just made an
obscene gesture with my mouth, beating the tip of my
tongue rapidly up and down between my slightly parted
lips like I did on Sally's clit whenever I could. She
got the picture, vividly.

"Ooooo, Larry. That's gross. You two are sick."

I laughed, and she stared out the window on her side,
ignoring me the rest of the way to the High School. She
made me drop her off a block before the school. I
dropped her off and watched her safely into the school.
Only then did I go to change my clothes before going in
to work. It had been an unexpectedly long time since I
had had a chance to get a change of clothes. About
halfway to my apartment I noticed the bag on the floor,
her cheerleading stuff still inside. I did a 'happy,
happy, joy, joy' dance in the car seat the rest of the
way to my apartment.

I was still grinning like an idiot when I got to my
office. There, I gave my boss the option of an extended
leave or my resignation, his choice. He surprised me
and countered with a home-office package. I hesitated,
thinking it would be more work, less pay and that I
would still be coming into the office five times a
week. When he doubled my salary and my vacation,
effective immediately, and made all contact through
FAX, phone or e-mail, I agreed. Geeze, twist my arm,
why don't you? It was nice to be appreciated, though. I
cleared out my desk, set up contact schedules with my
secretary, who was now promoted to my personal
assistant, and left.

Sally convinced me I should move in with the two of
them full time and made room in her closets for my
stuff. So my next stop was the manager at my complex.
He made noises about 90-day notice, forfeiture of all
deposits, and broken leases.

I simply turned his telephone around, punched on the
speakerphone and dialed the local cable company. When
he heard the receptionist answer, "Hello. This is Cable
Com. How may I help you?" he paled and disconnected the
call faster that I had thought his fat fingers could

I walked out of his office a homeless person, free of
all legal obligations. I had had to promise him I
wouldn't call the cable company again. For that, he
would tear up my contract. I fully intended to keep my
promise to him, as I didn't need to call them again. I
had already placed a call to them from my apartment
before I went into his office. I figured they would be
arriving in less than 3 minutes, probably with the
police. I hoped they would get there before he had time
to rip out all the illegal wiring and the illegal
descrambler boxes he had installed. That motherfucker
had set up his own little cable company, using a
pirated signal, and had charged every single tenant the
normal hook-up fees and monthly service, including pay-
per-view and premium channels. Being caught red-handed
like I hoped he was going to be would mean fines and
maybe even some jail time for the fat bastard.

The cavalry arrived just as I was pulling out of the
parking lot. Payback is a bitch, isn't it?

Sally survived Janey's first day back at school. It had
helped a lot when I handed her the bag with her
cheerleading stuff still inside. She looked up at me
with a question in her eyes. I simply kissed her smooth

"Uh, you probably don't want to know exactly what I
said to her, but we should probably make sure to get it
cleaned real good if you were to ever put it on and
sneak into the High School gym with me some night. Have
you ever thought about role-playing as a cheerleader and me as big hot stud? You might want to give it some
thought, just in case. Or try to remember the time we
rolled around in the mud in the middle of the football

"But we never did that!"

"I know that, and you know that, but Janey doesn't know
that. But, well, she might have gotten the impression
that we had done something like that. So I figured we
might as well, no?" I gave her my best evil grin. "How
about right now?"

Her laughter was musical, the first I had heard from
her in a long, long time. It felt good to hold her in
my arms and see her smiling face looking up into mine.
It made me feel like I could conquer the world. I told
her about the rest of my day as we unloaded boxes from
my car. It all fit in a tiny corner of the garage. Not
much to show for 34 years.

Sally was pleased it had worked out for me to work out
of the house. She suddenly found she needed me to be
there for her at odd times, kind of like a stabilizer.
She took me through the house, offering me my pick of
rooms to use for my office.

Remembering back to last week and still curious, I
suggested the cellar. She hesitated. Instantly sensing
something secret about to be dug up, I played innocent
and persisted, saying how ideal it would be, how I
would be there whenever she needed, but out of sight at
the same time. I wouldn't bother her with the phone
calls, or the faxes or my music. I suggested maybe just
a part of the cellar could be converted into an office.
Babbling enthusiastically at this great idea of mine, I
grabbed her hand and started towards the cellar door.

She didn't stop me, but she did lag behind. I sort of
had to drag her along, actually. I got to the door and
with a flourish and a bow said, "Ladies first, madam."

She went down the stairs like a condemned woman. This
just got more and more curious.

The harsh light from the single overhead bare bulb
revealed nothing out of the ordinary: laundry area,
heating and cooling systems, water heater, and storage
area. There was nothing down here that should have
taken up so much of her time the last five days. She
would disappear down here for hours at a time, coming
back up without a word of explanation and noticeably

I looked around the barren space again for something I
had missed. Ah-ha! A door! A locked door was discretely
hidden behind a storage shelf.

So, that's almost nothing out of the ordinary. I
charged on.

"Not much room down here. It's kind of dingy, too. Hey,
what's in here?" I went over and tried the door. As I
suspected, it was locked. "Hey! It seems to be stuck.
Could you give me a little help here, Dearest?" I gave
her my most innocent, endearing look.

She dug her hand in the back pocket of her jeans and
pulled out an impressive electronic key card. Hell, we
didn't have security like this at my office, and they
handled bundles of cash! I accepted it with a raised
eyebrow. Sally just blushed and looked at her feet.

I slid the key through the reader and pulled on the
door handle. The surprisingly heavy door opened
silently to reveal - nothing but total blackness. I
reached in to find the light switch on the wall and
found - nothing. I looked at the walls next the
entrance. Nothing. I turned to look at Sally.

Silently she moved to my right and slid the card
through a second reader slot in the doorframe. The
lights in the mysterious room came on.

I pulled her into my arms before I went in to see what
was in this special room. She was turned so that her
back was to my chest. I could feel the tension in her.
I put my arms around her, under her arms and held my
hands together in front of her belt buckle. I stepped
back, away from the doorway, pulling her with me.

"I can wait for whatever this is until you're ready."

She let the offer echo against the concrete walls of
the utility area for a while, then brought her hands up
from her sides and held onto mine. Her grip was tight,
like she was afraid of my reaction to what I would see.
I'll give her credit, though. In spite of her fears,
she stepped forward, pulling me along with her.
Together we stepped into the room, into her secret

I gazed around the room, turning us in a complete
circle before speaking. "I don't think I need this much
security for my office, Sally. The guest room at the
end of the hallway will be just fine."

I walked out of the room, taking her with me. We almost
made it up to the top of the stairs before she jammed
on the brakes.

"No." She took a deep breath. "Damn you, you bastard!"
She was so mad she hissed when she said that. "Did you
know what was in there?"

"Nope. Not a clue. Honestly, not a clue. If I had
known, I wouldn't have pushed you just now."

She sighed. "I know. It's just that this is so
personal. It's my Achilles' Heel, and I feel like I'm
handing it to you gift-wrapped. I've never felt so
naked, so vulnerable in my entire life. Do you know
what that's like?"

"I can imagine. I can wait until you're ready to let me
in there with you. I'm probably more scared of that
stuff than you are. You, at least, know what those
things are and how to use them. I only recognized a
couple of things."

She tilted her head back and gave me a funny look. My
admission of ignorance was almost bewildering to her.
Seeing that I wasn't going to push her to go back in,
or maybe it was my sincere ignorance that helped her
make up her mind. Regardless, she took me back down the
stairs and into the room, this time with a sure step.

When she had told me earlier of her previous boyfriend,
Sally had said she had been addicted to bondage. She
had been really addicted. For a rich person, addictions
are dangerous things. For the next two hours she led me
around the cavernous room, showing me her various
collections of gear. Some of it I could figure out.
Others had helpful illustrations of how to operate, use
or wear the whatchamacallits. Many, no, most of the
things down there were things I had never seen or even
dreamed of. And they were almost all custom-made.

She stayed in my arms throughout the tour, guiding me
around from one collection to another. She was quiet,
just letting me absorb as much as I could take.

I had done fine, reaction-wise, until the third set of
items she took me to. The illustrations for this
collection used photos of actual models. The model in
the vivid color photo was unmistakably Sally. My gasp
was very audible in the quiet dungeon.

I couldn't help it. I went both ways. My hands
protectively moved up and gently cupped around her
breasts and my cock, with its own mind, tried to punch
a hole in my slacks. I couldn't take my eyes off the
photo of her, bound and gagged, the red leather of taut
straps encircling her body, highlighting her blonde hair. The position she was forced into was awkward. It
looked painful, the straps obviously tight. I could see
the beads of sweat on her chin, the high stiff collar
forcing it awkwardly upwards.

There was more, much more. When we were done, I had
seen at least five recognizable photos of Sally, each
with her in the strictest bondage imaginable. As we
left, we locked the door. When it was secured, she
handed me the key, pressing it into my hand. This time,
we made it all the way back to the kitchen. She poured
us some coffee and we sat down at the table, each lost
in our own thoughts.

It was quiet for a long time around the table, the
coffee beginning to cool.

"I'm going to need some time to work up to your level.
I don't know if I..."

Her sob stopped me in mid sentence. The tension flowed
out of her as her relief at not being rejected flooded
over her. She flew across the table into my arms,
spilling the forgotten coffee over the table and onto
the floor.

I only said one more thing to her about it.

"Get rid of the stuff that makes you uncomfortable or
brings back any bad memories. Keep the things you want,
of course, but you and I will build our own collection,
together. Also, take down the pictures. You are truly
beautiful in them, and in some of them I can begin to
see what you like about this. I don't want to share you
or this with anyone right now. I want this to grow
between us, at our own speed. This will be our joy, our
passion. OK?"

Sometimes you get lucky and say the right thing.

She never explained why she had set the room back up
after all those years. I never asked. I handed her back
the key and motioned for her to take them. She spent
several days sorting through the items, and later
several large trucks came and went, picking up and
delivering huge crates.

I went back down to the cellar after she returned the
key. The room was nearly empty, or seemed so, as there
was still a considerable amount of stuff in it, some of
it new. That surprised me. I studied it all carefully,
making mental notes of consistent themes. The photos
were still down there, the entire collection this time.
They were not displayed, but locked in a new safe. The
key was on the top. Inside the safe were literally
hundreds of photos. She had sorted them
chronologically, and they showed her in all sorts of
progressively lurid situations, first singly, then with
one, later with multiple partners. She was always bound
in some manner, but towards the end only minimally. It
was too restrictive for the others. Her bondage was
just a teaser, to whet her appetite, to keep her

It was not hard to pick out Gary in the pictures,
especially in the last series. He was the bastard with
his hands on an 11 year old girl's chest, pinning her
back against his groin, forcing her to watch her mother being sexually humiliated by four men and two women. He
was the fifth man she had mentioned earlier.

I memorized his face. I would never forget it.

Over the next week, I carefully went though the photos,
automatically cataloging the people in them in my mind
as I had been trained to do so many years before. I
forced myself to look at each one. Those people had
touched my love in intimate ways. It was somehow
personal, even though we hadn't met at the time. When I
was finished reviewing them, I locked them away along
with the negatives. I kept the early ones of Sally by
herself in a separate file. The ones when she was

I also kept out one other single photo. I took it back
with me to my office. It was a simple blowup of just
the face of a very brave little blonde girl. Crying.

Chapter 9

Strangely enough, as exciting as I found the prospect
of introducing bondage into our relationship to be,
Sally and I didn't start using the cellar right away.
She was ready, more than ready, but she understood I
was not there yet. There was a large part of it I
wasn't comfortable with, not the least of which was the
pain involved. I didn't talk about it either, although
I spent many long hours down there by myself, thinking,
trying to understand what this was all about, what this
would do to our relationship, what part I could and
would be willing to play. I had several issues to deal
with. Until I was ready, I wasn't going to bring it any
further into our relationship than it had already

As time went by, slowly, the three of us settled into a
kind of routine. Janey had school, I had work and
Sally, and Sally had Janey. Then school ended for the
summer and we both had Janey. She just kind of hung
around, underfoot.

Neither Sally nor I were prepared for her listlessness.
This active, goal-oriented teenager was suddenly mashed
potatoes. By the end of the second week of summer break
I got fed up with tripping over her, getting no civil
response to reasonable questions, and the mindless
drivel she was watching - or at least staring at on TV.
Something drastic was called for, so I did something
impulsive. Well, OK, so I planned it first. The two
girls thought it was impulsive, and that's all that
counts, right? I quietly made several telephone calls
and pulled in some favors. Everything fell neatly into
place, as I had hoped - prayed? - it would. Clout is
really nice when you have it.

That night at dinner I announced I would be in charge
of the entire next day. They could like it or not, tuff
shit. I told them they could call their friends and
cancel any plans, as I was not taking "No" as an answer
from either one of them. I would give them the
itinerary, their instructions and their clothing in the
morning. That raised at least one eyebrow. Then I left
the house. I didn't want to take a chance on either one
of them talking me out of it or digging out the
surprise. I knew my limits with these two and when it
came to giving in and giving up, I was an expert.

On my return with several small packages, Sally hovered
about, sniffing for a hint. But no amount of wheedling,
and God, could she wheedle, produced the slightest
whiff of the next day's events.

The next morning, I got them up early. On each of their
beds were three packages, numbered 1, 2, and 3. Sally
tore into her boxes like it was Christmas. The first
box held a pair of shorts, a half-T, and tennis shoes,
with bootie socks, nothing else. The disappointment in
her eyes almost made me fess up to the plans for the
day. The second sack contained a baseball glove.

Clearly puzzled, and slightly more curious now, she
opened the third. A baseball cap and a pennant from a
near-by AAA baseball team and a ticket for tonight's
game. She grinned at me, lighting the room. It was all
the thanks I needed.

She gestured towards the two skimpy pieces of clothing.
"Anything else?"

I shook my head, grinning.

Her eyes widened as she eyeballed the slight droop of
her breasts against the bottom hem of the shirt.

"I'll have to be careful."

"Please, not on my account!" I said, grinning from ear
to ear. I hoped I had estimated it just right. Janey's
top was even shorter. Both of them would be very aware
of their cock teasing attire the entire day. All I
could do was hope for an exciting game and that we
didn't run into any drunk or overly aggressive males. I
was prepared to deal swiftly should one - or more - get
within a grab of either of my girls, especially Janey.
That would set her back a lot, but I had always
believed that without risk, there is no gain. I applied
that philosophy to life as well as my finances.

Sally went in to help Janey get ready, her infectious
laughter soon joined by her daughter's gasps and
giggles. I heard Janey protest

"But, Mom, I've never dressed like this to go out in

"I know, dear. Me neither. But it's what he wants for

"I, uh, we both look like cock teasers!"

"Then I guess we'll just have to play the part he wants
us to play. But for today only, clear?"

More giggles followed with some practice tease lines
and outrageous blatant poses in front of the mirror in
Janey's room. I watched from the doorway as both
figured out how high they could move their arms or
shrug their shoulders before they exposed themselves to
their viewing public. It was going to be impossible to
avoid, and they both agreed that if you can't beat 'em,
join 'em.

Sally gasped as Janey walked across the room. We all
saw her bounce in and out of view just from walking. I
guess I got her shirt a bit too short. Sally glared at
me in the mirror as I shrugged an "oops" to her. I
really hadn't meant it to be that short. She then got a
funny look in her eye, pulled out some scissors and
trimmed a good two inches off her own shirt. She
couldn't even take a deep breath without showing it

"There, that's better, don't you think?"

They linked arms, grinning conspiratorially, and
announced they were ready to go.

Over the first hurdle, but oh, so many more to go...

I whistled appreciatively at the two goddesses and
handed them each a light windbreaker on the way out the
door, telling them to hurry as we had to keep to the
schedule. Sally checked her ticket for the time of the
game. It didn't start until 7:00 that night and the
stadium was only 60 miles away. She shrugged and helped
me get Janey into the back seat of my car. Neither
wanted the cover of the windbreakers, so the light
jackets went into the trunk, along with the baseball

I took the long way around, heading to the next town
over from the stadium. There I stopped for breakfast at
a health food place I had invested in several years
prior. I had warned the folks who ran it I might stop
in, with my 'special' guests, and they really put on a
show for us.

Janey thought all I ate was artery-clogging processed
foods, and when I pulled into this out of the way
place, she figured it was a greasy spoon, and said as
much. Sally was just as bewildered, but more observant.
She saw the high-end autos in the parking lot and the
sleekness of the clientele. The high-tech, high-priced
exercise facility attached to the restaurant clued her
in that this just might be something other than what it

Janey turned suddenly modest and we could only get her
to come in after I had retrieved the light jackets from
the trunk. She was still somewhat reticent, but when
she suddenly spied a young waiter, a 'hunk with buns,'
as she described him, she said she would come with us
if we could sit at his station. Thank you, God, for
raging hormones. I told her I would see what I could
do, and in we went.

I think Janey would have eaten lard on pork rinds that
morning and not noticed. That poor waiter was run
ragged. She had him take back the yogurt, because it
wasn't ripe yet. Then the toast because it was too
light, then too dark, then too hard, and so on. The
water was too warm, there was a microscopic nick in her
glass, her place settings didn't match Sally's and
mine, then they didn't match the table next to us and
it clashed, upsetting her appetite. She almost drooled
as she stared at his butt as he walked back to the
kitchen, again. And again. And again. I will admit, she
was rather inventive and kept him busy running back and
forth the whole time we were there.

I was trying to hold a conversation with my partners,
the owners, introducing them to Sally. We had to point
at Janey during the introductions, as her attention was
elsewhere. Several times we were interrupted by raucous
laughter from the tables around us. Most of the patrons
sitting around us had caught on to what Janey was
doing, and were thoroughly enjoying the floorshow. Some
even helped out, sending the poor waiter past our table
so Janey could get an additional eyeful.

With all the complaints Janey was making, the mangers
were worried that things weren't going well and
mentioned that the waiter, on his first day, might not
make it to his second. Sally reassured them that he was
doing just fine, that the problem was much more of her
daughter's doing than anything else. I, too, reassured
them that, knowing Janey and her determination, there
was absolutely nothing the poor kid could do about it.
I intended to leave a substantial tip for the poor

He was coming towards our table, lugging an over-full,
ill-stacked tub of dirty dishes, when Janey gave him
her own special gratuity. Her windbreaker had fallen
open just so, and, as she caught his eye, she winked,
slowly raising both her hands to re-adjust the baseball
cap on her head. It took her a long time to get it just
right. Her 'tips,' framed by the dark windbreaker,
riveted him, as well as several lucky tables behind
him. Stunned, he dropped the tub, breaking every dish
in it with a crash that silenced every conversation in
the room.

I watched her flash him from my seat. I had a clear
view of what she had done and what he could see.
Considering I had only left money, I figured she had
given him the better tip. Mine would just about cover
the breakage. Hers would last him a lifetime.
Unbeknownst to me, Sally slipped him a $50.00 bill and
a peck on the cheek on the way out. Who knows what she
showed him as she did that? Or where she had the bill

The next stop was a long ways off. I urged them to use
the facilities before we got underway. Both snapped
very erotic nipple-flashing salutes with an "Aye, aye,
Sir" and marched off to the ladies room. Time passed,
and I finally wandered out to the car to wait for them
there. I was standing next to my car when an old family friend and his wife drove up and we began to talk,
catching up on mutual acquaintances from home. I had my
back turned to the restaurant and wasn't aware the
girls were approaching until I heard,

"Hey, mista. If we show ya our boobies, will ya give us
a ride in yer big red car? I'll letcha play with mine
if I can drive it. Huh? I get my license next year and
I need the practice. Whaddya say? Deal? Here, feel
hers, too. Hers ain't real, mine are! Feel the

My friend turned apoplectic as the two temptresses
clung to me, one on each arm. As they rubbed their
chests up and down my arms they showed my friend and
his wife their goodies. I started to introduce Sally
and Janey to them, but something was different about
them. It took a minute, then it hit me. They had
changed their hair. Both now had twin pig tails of
hair, sprouting out of their heads almost sideways. And
the makeup was either gone, or so artfully applied that
they looked - both of them - no older than 14. 15 max.
I didn't think I could introduce a cock-teasing 15-year-
old as 'my intended' with a straight face, so I grabbed
a handful of ass in each hand and said,

"Sure, kids. Climb in. Say, I think I've got some candy
in my pocket. Why don't you reach in and see if you can
find it?"

I winked at my friend and his red-faced wife, mouthed
'Let's do lunch,' and hustled the two vixens into my
car. They both waved 'Goodbye' enthusiastically, much
to the visible delight of the old man.

I would have a lot of explaining to do to my friend,
the judge, when we got around to that lunch.

Chapter 10

"That nice old man you two were flashing was Judge
Hawthorne, of the State Supreme Court, and his wife. He
was a partner in the law firm with my father before his
appointment to the bench. I, uh, dated their daughter for a long time. Our families are close, or at least
they were, until today."

"And you didn't even introduce me! Aren't I your
fianc‚? Are you ashamed of me already?"

I stopped the car and pulled off to the side of the
road. They had switched seats, with Sally sitting in
the back.

"I have never been more proud of you. It's just that,
well, their daughter still thinks of me as her property
sort of, and they were expecting her to arrive at any
moment. Her mother supports her daughter fully in that
fantasy, too, by the way. And you know how it is with
mothers and daughters, right?"

"You mean if we had stayed, I could have met a piece of
your past?"

"She was never a 'piece' of my past. I was a 'piece' to
her, like a trophy or furniture. And no, I never got a
'piece' from her. First she played hard to get, then
hard to lose."

"So, that old broad didn't look too spry. Whatsa matta,
don'cha think we could take 'em?"

"Believe me, I would almost pay money to see you two
tangle with those two. WWF would lose rating points
that night. Seriously, when you do meet them, and you
will, don't turn your back on them if you're near the
serving line, too many knives lying around. And always
stay close to at least two witnesses."

Janey's eyes were as big as saucers as she followed
this conversation. At least she didn't think I was

I made a mental note to schedule a lunch with ol'
Thorny for the next week. He'd already gotten a good
rise out of this story. I'd just fill in a few blanks,
beginning with Janey's attack, to help him smooth it
out at home. He understood daughters. He just had no
idea how to control his own.

Following breakfast we headed to a much larger city
about an hour away, but again it was in the wrong
direction from the stadium. Sally and Janey were back
to behaving like perfect brats. If not clean, at least
it was a lot of fun. Comments about "taking the long
way," "are we there yet?," "is this the right road,"
"is this an away game," 'and "I have to stop and go
potty" came out of the passenger and rear seats with
increasing frequency the farther we got from the
night's destination.

Both girls quieted down, however, as I pulled into the
parking area of a very exclusive section of the city.
Both of them knew exactly where we were. It was a
shoppers' paradise, a ten-square block area of downtown
filled with boutiques and specialty shops. Both had
hinted strongly over the last year or so that this was
'the' place they would really like to visit, e.g. to
spend my money. What they didn't know was that I had
put this whole area together personally, and knew all
of the shop owners very well. The owners were not just
owners, but skilled craftsmen.

This exclusive area was known as 'The Guild' and that
is exactly what it was: A throwback to the times when
the guild craftsmen established the acceptable levels
of workmanship and art, not Wal-Mart or K-Mart
shoppers. It had been hugely successful, even to the
point of being frequently and occasionally fairly well
imitated in other cities. The waiting list to get into
my shops was long and getting longer. The quality of
the work done here was becoming world renowned as the
standard to meet. The prices of the pieces crafted here
were understandably and justifiably exorbitant, and
best of all, it made huge returns for my real-estate
investment and management company. And me.

I had been awarded a sizable stake in the project based
on its success, and I had received additional
incentives as I continued to manage it to greater
heights - and profits. My share had grown to a small
fortune over the last 10 years. It wasn't all paper
profit, either. I made sure I got cash flow out of it.
Today I was going to start plowing back into the shops
a lot of that capital, but if what I had planned worked
out, it would be well worth it.

For the next several hours, we wandered up and down the
narrow cobblestone streets, apparently just shopping.
We were actually on a very organized schedule. Sally
began to suspect something after about the third shop I
specifically guided them into.

The routine was the same in each shop. As we entered,
the artist or shopkeeper would welcome me warmly by
name, making the effort to come out and greet me with
unrehearsed enthusiasm. The other customers, if any,
would be gently, but quickly, ushered out, and a
"Private Showing, Please Return in One Hour" sign set
in the window. Shades were drawn to curious passersby,
and then both girls would be measured in a manner
appropriate to the craft of the artisan. The persons
measuring them would always be women, never men, though
there were a couple of them I wasn't sure about. Sally
made sure Janey was never left alone with those two

In the boot-maker's shop they had two plaster castings
made of their legs and lower torso, one with their toes
pointed straight down, the other standing normally. At
the dressmaker's shop, a whole body cast was made of
each of my girls. Similarly, at the foundation shop,
another cast was made, but of only the torso and upper
thighs. For each cast, some or usually all of their
minimal clothing would be removed, they would be
powdered, placed in molds, the quick-dry plaster poured
and dried. Afterwards, they would be offered a shower,
refreshment, and then efficiently ushered back to the
waiting room or back office where I would be talking to
the owner.

We were right on schedule as we turned into the third
to the last shop on my agenda for the day. These last
three stops would be tricky. I pulled Sally to the

"I need to speak with Janey for a moment. Will you
please cooperate and not have as much fun as you have
been having so far today? It is important."

Her eyes danced as she considered her answer. With a
nod of her head, she reached up and kissed me on the

"You're in charge today, remember? All you have to do
is ask. I will do whatever you say."

I could hear the devil in her voice. Then she got
serious and her voice got tight.

"I do love you, you know. I don't know what you're
trying to do, but I am having a hell of a lot more fun
than I thought I would. Best ball game I've ever been
to. Hint, hint?"

"Oh, we'll get there, all in good time. Now, please
send your lovely daughter over here so I can speak with

I paused, still holding her close to me.

"I love you, too, Sal, more than life. Cross your
fingers that what I have planned works out."

I think that last part shook her a bit. One thing, I
only called her 'Sal' when I get dead serious. It was
the kind of signal that develops between two people
when they get close. My signal told her I was scared
and on unfamiliar ground. I wasn't at all sure of the
rules of this game or of their reactions. I hoped
beyond hope I had not miscalculated the day's events or
the roles I had them playing.

It was a game, we all knew it. I knew Sally was having
fun. Hell, she needed the stress relief almost more
than Janey. Still, she was over-playing it just a bit.
I hoped she would tone it down, or I would be molesting
them both inside the hour. I'm not made of stone, and
while Sally wouldn't have minded, it would have
defeated the whole point with Janey.

Sally brought Janey over to me in front of a men's
clothing storefront. The girl's bouncing step told me
Sally had not said anything to dampen her daughter's
behavior. Her nipples peeked up at me, flashing in and
out of cover as she came to a stop before me. God, how
much longer... Sally started to move away.

"No, Sally, you can stay and listen, if you want. I
won't be giving away any secrets."

I grinned at her, and she made an impish face back,
getting back into her role for the day. Good.

"Janey, I need you to be serious for a moment and
listen carefully. We have had a lot of fun today, and
there is more to come, I promise, regardless of what
happens now. I know I said I was in charge today, and
you and your mom have given me more credit for being
responsible than I deserve. But I can't make the next
two choices for you. I'm sorry to have to do this
today, in the middle of the fun, but I couldn't avoid

I paused, and not for effect. This was touchy ground.
Well, best said straight out, right?

"The next two stores have to do with blatantly sexual

Sally's eyes widened. We were standing across the
street from a Tack Shop. Her grin made my heart stop,
then take off like a rocket. She had just figured out
what all the fittings were for in the shops prior to
this one. She was pleased. Boy, would I get lucky
tonight! When I continued, her expression changed from
adoration to mortification.

"...that your mom and I may make use of in the future.
I can't ask you to come in, and I can't make you stay
out. If you come in with us, you will be measured,
probably by a man, same as your Mom. If you stay
outside, I have arranged for you to be some place safe
while your mom and I are inside. The measurements will
be extremely personal and a bit uncomfortable. Do you
understand? Do you have any questions?"

She was thoughtful for a moment. Like her mom, her
ditzy act was just that. She was fully aware of what
she was doing.

"If I go in, does it commit me to do anything in the

"No. I would never force you to do anything you don't
want to. That's why I'm asking you this."

"If I stay out here, can I still play the ditzy blonde babe?"

"Actually, I have arranged for you to tour the nun's
cloister, just around the corner. Only women are
allowed in. I don't think it would be appropriate for
you to behave in an unseemly way. Do you?

"Nah. What's the next store? Can I skip this one and go
to the next. I'm not really into horses and that
bestiality crap. That's more her thing."

Sally just about choked on her wad of gum at that.
Apparently, they were after each other's goats as well
as mine.

"Sorry, it's a take both or leave both offer."

"Do you want me to go in?"

This last was said in a small voice, while desperately
searching my eyes for an answer. I leaned over and
kissed her on the forehead. She hated that. Now, there
was no shrinking away from my lips as I spoke so low
only she could here.

"Janey, I only want you to be happy..."

I looked across at Sally, who was waiting intently for
Janey's decision. She knew it was one she could not
help her with.

"...just like I want your mom to be happy."

Janey looked at her mother, and I guess they linked or
something. They both held out their hands to me and we
went in to the Tack Shop together. Me and two very
excited cock-teasing nymphettes.

They settled down quickly once we entered the store. I
swear Sally had an orgasm from just the aroma of
leather that swept over us as we went through the
display area. She stopped stock still, then moved as if
in a dream over to a display of a riding saddle and
some bridles. Equestrian, not human. She let the
sensuous leather of the saddle brush across the exposed
lower sides of her breasts as she rubbed them back and
forth. Her hands first touched and then wound
themselves around in the soft caresses of the bridles
hanging down from the high ceiling. She was lost in
another world.

Janey watched her mother then turned to look at me with
death in her eyes. She had seen this before, had gone
through this with her once before. It had not been
particularly pleasant for her, either. I could
understand her rage.

"I am not Gary. I will not hurt her or expose her to
shame. I promise you that, Janey."

I could not say anything else. I think she sensed my
hesitation with this bondage stuff that I was being
pulled into it by her mother's tremendous needs and
desires, not the other way around. She also sensed her
mother's intense need. And I think she was also a bit
curious about what attracted her mother into it. She
was, after all, her mother's daughter.

The fire receded, leaving a bright twinkle. We
understood each other. Kind of.

The owner, a rather young man in his twenties, came
over and greeted me, as had the other shopkeepers. As
there were no other customers, he simply locked the
door and lowered the "Closed" sign. Turning, he held up
two fingers with a questioning look.

I nodded.

He looked at Janey and blushed deeply. I hoped he could
get through this with his dignity intact. I had warned
him of her beauty, both their beauty, but he was
younger, closer to Janey's age. To him, she wasn't as
far off limits.

Due to the types of measurements he would need to make,
he could not use a clerk. The person had to know the
craft. He didn't have a clerk experienced enough,
anyway. His only helper, an apprentice of less that 3
months, was even younger than Amud. The apprentice had
been given a sudden, unexpected rare day off. The
shopkeeper went silently to the back office and opened
the door. He signaled to someone inside.

I stiffened immediately. The arrangements had been for
absolutely no one else. This was private.

A diminutive figure walked into the showroom. The
owner's eyes were beaming with pride. As the short
figure came closer, I saw it was a young woman, about
his age.

"Mr. Sampson. I would like to introduce you my wife,
Bala. If is acceptable, she will be the measurements
making. She, uh, understands the things you will need,
and has suggestions maybe, if it pleases you to hear of
them. I apologizes it to you, but I will need it to
observe to make sure taping is done correctly and to
interpret. She does not speak the good English."

He waited for my consent. Interesting. He had solved
his and my problems at the same time. I nodded in

Chapter 11

The woman next to Amud did not offer her hand. I did
not extend mine. She stood two feet behind and to the
side of her husband throughout the introduction, her
eyes to the floor.

He said something I didn't understand, and I was
rewarded with a blinding smile from the eyes of the
woman as she looked up for the first time. Her eyes
were all that was visible of her face, just above her
'Arabian Nights" veil. Most interesting.

Amud spoke to her and she replied in a firm clear
voice. I didn't understand a word.

"Shall we do the fresh one or the happy one first?" her
husband interpreted for her.

"Are those her words or are you interpreting her

"I am sorry if I have offended you, Mr. Sampson, sir.
Please forgive me. I will attempt to make her words
better in English."

I laughed. She was a most perceptive person, from her
descriptions of two women she had never before met. Her
apt descriptions confirmed the intelligence I had seen
in those flashing eyes. Yes, she understood 'these
things' very well, as I wager the young man did as
well. I would have to talk with him a bit more. I was
also curious about what she thought.

"No, Amud. I am very pleased with the words she uses
and the way you said them. They are very perceptive.
You have reason to be very proud of your wife."

He beamed at her as I said this, interpreting my words
to her. She blushed scarlet under the veil at receiving
a compliment from another man. I continued when he had

"Amud, I would like to ask you to do something. I am
not very familiar with your culture or of 'these
things'. If it is allowed, please ask your wife to
speak freely, commenting as she goes through the
measuring process. I would like you to translate what
she says literally. If you do not know a word, use a
word picture, or describe what it does. I would like to
ask questions of her as we go along, as well. Would
that be allowed?"

He thought about it, chewing it over. He then asked his
wife. The discussion was somewhat heated. I wasn't sure
who won.

"It is unusual request from strange man. At home, at
old home, it would not be allowed for strange man to
talk to wife or for him to have to hear worthless
prattle from her ugly mouth, even through interpreter.
But this is America, our new home. We must learn new
ways of new home. Such things are not forbidden by Holy
Book. We... excuse please, I will allow it." Ah Ha! His
wife had won!

"Wonderful! Then do the fresh one first. I want the
happy one to enjoy herself as long as she can."

He relayed the information to his wife. She bowed
deeply to him, and waited for his signal to rise. She
turned to me and started to bow, but stopped. She
looked over at him for direction in this new situation.
He said something to her that was apparently permission
for her to speak, as she spoke and gestured at me.

"My wife wishes to thank you for this opportunity, but
says it is dangerous to bow to untrained stallion, most
likely get head kicked in. Please forgive her ugly
mouth, Mr. Sampson, sir!"

He was clearly embarrassed by her description of me,
though, in a way, I was pleased. But then I thought
that the term 'stallion' might mean something different
to her than the picture of raw male power it brought to
my mind. Either way, I had asked for it and I would
take it. I told him as much, and begged him to continue
without apologizing for her. I would take no offense,
as I was sure none was intended. He nodded.

We followed along as she led Janey into a side room. I
stood at the door where I could keep an eye on Sally,
who stayed behind in the showroom. There was a table
off to one side. I ran my hand over the assortment of
leather objects, all made with exquisite craftsmanship.
I picked up a supple whip to admire the handiwork.

I looked up as a sharp command from the woman that was
addressed to Janey, who had been standing off to one
side, looking bored. The woman's change of personality
was surprising, as suddenly, when speaking to Janey,
she was in command.

"Please to remove clothing, young lady."

I raised my eyebrow questioningly at him. He lowered
his eyes in apology.


Janey looked over at me questioningly, bringing a
tirade from the woman, pointing her finger at her own

"You look me. I say what is, now! Yes?"

She moved to place herself between Janey and I, and
stood very close to her face, fixing her with her eyes.
I saw the fear in Janey's expression suddenly vanish as
she watched the woman. Later she said she did not see
any bad things in them, just excitement and laughter.

Janey shed her clothing without another protest, even
going so far as to fold them neatly in a pile to one

Pulling out a tape measure, the foreign woman began
measuring Janey in minute detail. Each finger was
measured for length and diameter, exact distances
between her wrist and elbows, elbows and underarm, and
so on. The woman would measure and write down a
measurement on a clipboard. She worked in silence for a
while, moving Janey's limbs as necessary.

When she was through with her torso and limbs, she
began measuring Janey's head. She took every possible
measure around, across, mouth opened, mouth closed,
turning left and right, and tipped forward and back.
She picked up a series of several metal bars and rings.
She put one bar after the other into Janey's mouth
until she was satisfied she had the largest size that
would fit. With Janey's mouth still open, she used her
index finger to touch the soft palate in the back of
her mouth. Janey gagged at the touch.

"You must be tougher to swallow long, fat hoses, fresh
one. Not good to bite off hose of Master.

She put the metal pieces back on the table, and
addressed Janey.

"Make points!"

Janey, to her credit, addressed her, and not me. Amud
translated for his wife.

"Points? Make what points? I don't understand."

She stepped back as if stunned. Turning to her husband,
she made a wild gesture and said something. He pointed
at me, and shrugged.

His wife turned to me and started talking slowly, as if
to an idiot. Her husband's eyes grew wide with fear. I
looked at him expectantly, silently ordering him to

"You lazy worm! You bring me stupid cow to make
trouble. Waste of time to train this late. Better to
sell to house for sailors. Eeii! May your hose drop off
before you make more worthless babies. This one's
training not even started. How can you expect her to
sing for Gods, if she can not do things babies learn?
Eeii. Tell her, 'make points!' Tell her, 'make dew!'
Maybe she do for you!"

"I apologize for my ignorance. We..." I gestured to
myself and the two girls "...are new to 'these things'
and have a lot to learn. Please explain to us what you
mean. What are points? What is dew? Don't be afraid of
insulting us, and please do not despise us. This is not
a part of our culture, but we wish to learn. Please,
help us."

She stood there with a look of disbelief on her face.

"Your words say one thing, and when I see your stupid
face and this worthless cow, I believe you. But then I
hear the happy one sing, and I think you lying. You do
know some things."


"Are you deaf as well as stupid? Listen to her with
your ears, your heart and your worthless hose."

I turned to watch Sally. Her hands were now extended
far over her head, and she had knotted the hanging
leather straps in loops through which she slipped her
wrists. The short T-shirt was clear above her breasts,
which were as firm and taut as I had ever seen them.
Her shorts were on the ground beneath her as her feet
hung above the ground by several inches. The smooth
side of the saddle against which she leaned caught her
right at the juncture of her thighs. She was slowly
rocking her hips in a forward and back motion, rubbing
her mound against the saddle. There was a large wet
stain on the leather.

As it got quiet in the room and I concentrated, I could
hear the faint sounds of her moaning, but nothing else.
I turned questioningly to the impatient woman.

"You not hear her? She is not good, but she is
singing." She made a sound, making fun of the moans
coming from Sally. "Need much practice, but she has
nice voice."

"You will need to teach us as children. She, uh, likes
to sing. She needs to sing better."

The woman gave an exasperated sigh.

"Eeii. Children in my father's house know more. OK.
Listen close."

She stepped around behind Janey who had been standing
quietly. The woman reached around the girl and lightly
touched her fingers to the tips of her breasts. Janey
flinched as if shocked.

"Hey! Stop that! Ouch! Larry, make her stop. I don't
want this anymore."

The small woman immediately released the girl. She went
over to the table and picked up a leather item. She
turned and addressed me.

"Noisy cow. We use old horse hose stuffed with dung at
home. Now just use this for quietness. OK?"

She held up a penis gag and gestured at Janey. The
girl's eyes widened at the size of the gag. I nodded to
the woman to continue.

"Laaarryy! NO! Please, I'll be qui...mmmff."

Her protests were silenced as the gag slid home and was
fastened behind her neck.

"There. Keeps silence in tent. If young cow not good,
can use in bottom hole before make quiet. Once, twice,
maybe, she learn quietness."

Janey's eyes bulged as she realized the woman might
have used this as a butt plug in someone else before
putting it in her mouth. From her position behind
Janey, I could see the twinkle in the woman's eye. I
could have sworn she winked at me, as well, but I
didn't know if her culture allowed that.

I also noted that with all her protests, Janey had not
made one step to flee, or to move towards me for
protection. If she had, I would have stopped everything

"Relax, Janey. I told you it would be very intimate and
personal. Don't fight her, OK? Just enjoy."

She tensed slightly as the woman again cupped her
breasts from behind and massaged her nipples to
erection, but then relaxed as the woman's expert touch
aroused her passions quickly. Janey's breath quickened
and became irregular. The woman stepped away from the
panting girl.

"Points. Points are here."

Her hand wandered down to the soft downy hair covering
Janey's pussy. Her hand moved slightly, and then a
single slim finger disappeared between the tight folds.

"Dew is here. EEEE! Here is also point!"

She went swiftly over to Sally and gently felt between
her legs, without disturbing her trance-like state.
Returning, she spoke directly to her husband, speaking
excitedly. She then turned and bowed deeply to me while
he spoke.

"My worthless wife apologizes for bad names she said
about you. You are brave man, to have two women with
all points in house. Your hose must be truly strong.
You are brave and foolish. But I help teach you to make
sing without hose. Save hose for making babies. Not too
late if cows have third point."

I had heard of the practice of clitorectomy - female
circumcision - still occurring in some countries, but
thought it was outlawed. Apparently it was not. I asked
Amud about it.

"Old men burn off lower point of young brides. Take
life out of bride, but old men can then have many
brides. They no fight, they no care."

He turned defiant, as if remembering an old argument.

"I not an old man. I leave home. One bride, all

He appeared to be challenging me to contradict his
decision. He had left his family, his home and his
country for the love he had for his wife. I bowed as
deeply as I could to him.

"No! No, Mr. Sampson, I am worthless son of
sheepherder. No bow."

I stood back up. "Amud, that may have been what you
were before. What I see now is a brave man with a pure
heart and a true gift. Not just your craft. You have
the rare gift of true love for your wife, and a rare
wife, a treasure. It is for that I bow to you."

He was thoughtful for a moment, considering what I
said. He nodded once, as if agreeing with what I had
said, and then spoke to his wife. I don't know what was
said, but from that point on, she was much less
critical, more instructive.

Chapter 12

"We finish now with fresh one, OK? Come, stand here."

The woman led Janey over to a spot in the middle of the
floor. She moved behind her and cupped Janey's breasts,
massaging them for sometime, murmuring soothingly in
her ear. Janey responded to the gentle touch and the
hypnotic sounds and was soon gasping for air through
her nose, her mouth still gagged.

The woman brought her swiftly to the edge and with an
instinctive skill, never letting her go over. Janey's
eyes soon lost their focus and her facial features
slackened. I didn't know if she was lost in erotic
sensations or if the woman had hypnotized her. It was
incredible to watch. I wanted to learn how do it, too.

The woman let go of Janey and took up her tape measure.
She took a circumference measure of each of the dazed
girl's swollen tits, at the base, the mid-point and at
the nipple. Amud's wife made a small mark with a pen on
Janey's breastbone and measured how far below this mark
on the sternum the center of the erect nipple was. It
was a measure of the sag of her breasts.

The woman took one of Janey's arms and raised it over
her head. A thick leather strap at the end of a hanging
tether was quickly wrapped around the docile girl's
wrist. The other arm followed. With both arms raised
overhead, the woman again measured the distance from
the sternum mark to her nipples. This was a measure of
the lift in her breasts caused by raising her arms.

The last measure the small woman made with the tape was
the length of the erect nipples. She turned to me.

"She bring good price, if want to sell. I buy for Amud.
You name price, I pay, no haggle."

When I looked shocked, she laughed. It was a low
chuckle, sensuous and musical.

"Good man." She smiled, almost sadly, and added, "But
not knowing will hurt them one day. You must learn,
too, and soon." I was baffled by her statements. Amud
made no attempt to clarify them.

That said she moved back to Janey's side. "See here,
touchy milk sacs, firm, like good cheese, size of
prized oranges. Will take whip well, make sing like
angel. Very nice match with rest of carcass. Fresh one
has three-ring points, most cows only one ring. Points
are good firmness, stay hard long time. See? Still
hard! I touch not since start. If you want I show you
make holes for first rings. I use fresh needle. No
charge extra."

She was talking about piercing Janey's nipples with not
one, but three pairs of rings. As much as that
intrigued me - hell, I got rock hard thinking about it
- I had promised her she would not be harmed. Piercing
would have to be her informed choice, not this way. I
thanked the woman, but told her we would do that later,
not this visit. She almost looked disappointed, like I
had wussed out.

She then took one of Janey's ankles and lifted it
straight forward and up. The higher she lifted without
resistance, the more excited she got. They didn't have
cheerleaders in the old country, apparently. Janey's
foot pointed straight up in a vertical split.

"EEE. You sure no training? Impossible!"

The first leg was lowered and the other leg's
flexibility was tested with the same results. Then she
fastened a long strap hanging from the ceiling around
Janey's ankle and lifted her leg out and up so that it
was parallel to the ground. The other leg followed.
Janey was hanging suspended from her wrists and ankles.
Her head tipped slowly back as her breathing quickened

Amud's wife then spread the outstretched legs as far
apart as they would go without forcing. With Janey's
private areas fully exposed in this position she took
her hand and used it to measure the length of the slit,
how far it spread, and, with her slender finger, poked
up inside her pussy the entire length. This activity
had an effect on the hanging girl and she began moaning
through the gag.

"Fresh one almost sing. Like mother, need practice.
Lucky man." She paused. "Sorry bad man take flower of
Fresh one. But no hurt left, here or in head. She still
tight for long nights use with hose. Good as goat path,
uh, back hole for long time." Amud had apparently told
her the story of Janey's attack. Her evaluation of
Janey's prognosis comforted me in a way the doctor's
evaluations hadn't. Her assessment of Janey seemed more
holistic, more practical. It was definitely less

She looked longingly at Janey's hanging form. Then
turned to me.

"Fresh one done. Now Happy one?"

"Wait. Before you let her down..."

I hesitated, thinking hard. This wasn't planned, but
Janey was still in a euphoric state. I needed to know
what had done it.

"...why is she so aroused? What did you do to make her
like that?"

Amud grinned at me and answered for his wife.

"We soak gag in special sauce. Make new bride sing
easy. Bride want sing more. Fresh one not need much.
Almost ready to sing now."

My look of alarm at the news of their drugging Janey
without my knowledge or permission must have frightened
him. He hurried on. "Sauce used in my country for
centuries. Here, too, by many people. Is all natural,
medicine, not bad drug like brown shit my people grow
in poppy fields. It not last long, not make you want
more. I make myself, in kitchen." He lowered his voice.
"Use on my own precious beloved for special, uh,
things. On self, too, for learning.

"So sorry, not know you not use sauce. Please forgive.
Only use to help sing."

Oh, well, spilt milk, and it didn't appear to be
addictive. Something that effective would never get
past FDA anyway...

I gestured at Janey with the whip I had picked up

"Could you make her sing now?"


I dropped the whip. The screaming woman came over and
picked it up. She handed it back, fire in her eyes.

"Cruel master use cannon to smash fly. This big stick
for Happy One. Make her sing for Gods all night, maybe
two if master know good tricks. Fresh One not ready yet
for big stick. Later. Year, maybe more, maybe less.
Then use big stick." She paused, thinking. "Please

She turned to Amud and spoke more sharply to him than I
had heard her address him until now. His eyes grew
wide, but he kept silent. Only once did he begin to
object, but his wife gently, but firmly, overrode his
objection. She turned and left the room.

"Mr. Sampson, sir. My wife wishes me to explain of a
special tradition in my country. It is only used on
certain occasions. And only in, uh, intimate times. It
brings women very close. Normally only done by family."
He paused, swallowing a large chunk of pride. "My wife never address me such in front of no one. Not family.
Not strangers. Strong feelings for Fresh one, Happy
one, too. She say she can help her hurt in head go
away, in heart, too.

"My wife act like new woman today. I wanted her change
long time for new home. But now not know if I like.
Feel strange."

His eyes were still wide, as he watched his wife re-
enter the room. She held a long strip of thin leather
in her hand. As he saw what it was, he choked on a
dying protest. Her defiant glare stopped it before he
could say it.

"She will make the Fresh one sing in the tradition of
the Princess. A Princess only touched by finest
material. The strip of leather she have in hand called
a 'Princess Thong.'

"This thong has a special place in our culture. When
daughter betrothed, she take long leather strips and
soak in brine many months. She then place one in her
private place to soak for one month before ceremony. It
painful for women..."

He blushed in embarrassment

"...but effective way to stop making of the baby." He
grinned involuntarily, as he added, "Bride also stay
tight as first time, even after many babies."

His wife was making knots in the long strip along its
entire length, about an inch apart. She pulled them
tight with her teeth. Amud continued.

"Thong takes 6 months to prepare. It must stay moist
with dew and warm, so bride keep in her at all times
except when husband wishes to use her parts.

"When thong is completely supple like linen but very
strong, bride present it to husband. For such a gift of
herself to him, her husband must give gift of her
choosing. Of course, gift settled when betrothed.
Normal gift chosen is she-goat."

His wife was about half way through knotting the thong.
He looked at her lovingly.

"My wife chose gift of baby, which I would give her
without thong." He explained, "You must understand, Mr.
Sampson, I, we wish to have big family, but do not wish
to be forced to return home as paupers. Many babies are
expensive. My wife fertile for many more years. Her
choice of gift was her way of letting me decide when we
start family."

I looked puzzled. I had followed most of this strange
custom, but this logic escaped me.

"A bride must present thong before special gift chosen
can be given. Ever. No thong. No gift. No baby for my
wife. My wife has started 6 thongs. Each time one near
finish, I, uh, take and hide it. She starts again.
Brine hurts bride, but less than poverty.

"As long as I alert and can capture the thong, I
control when we make babies. It is game, as is all
life. She is very good player, very tricky, very smart.
I see now she much better than I at this game."

This was a momentous admission and a compliment about a
woman to a stranger on top of that.

He explained. "Thongs have value. Much value. Because
of pain, many brides do not wish to make for selves. So
they buy from other women. The closer to completion,
the more value. That thong she has is best of all
thongs I have stolen. Is only two, maybe three days
from finish. I almost lose.

"It was thong I had hidden best. If she knows this one,
she knows all."

He looked at me in shame and bewilderment.

"She ordered me - ordered! - to tell you what she
doing. She never talked to me like that before. And how
am I to control this woman, when she let me win? If she
wins from low position, what will become of us here in
America as more equal? How will I win then, if she is
so smart now?"

I sympathized with this befuddled young husband. He had
just learned he was only along for the ride in his
relationship. And he was the horse, not the rider.
Fortunately, his rider was a loving intelligent woman
who loved him very much. I moved over and clapped my
arm around his shoulder, sort of fatherly, sort of like
a comrade in arms. He flinched, but did not pull away
from the familiarity of my touch.

"Welcome to the club, Amud. I learned long ago that men are never in control, when it comes to women. They only
let us think we are, sometimes. Be thankful for her
love for you. Be sure to respect her and love her. It's
the only way to survive with them."

He grinned ruefully and nodded his agreement.

His wife was almost ready to begin.

Chapter 13

Amud and I watched from one side as his wife completed
her preparations. Before she started, she removed the
gag from Janey's mouth. She brought it to me and said
something as she reverently placed it in my hands.

"This is gift for you for the Fresh one. It will help
her want to sing. Now, I want to show you how to begin
good song."

She turned and walked to the gently swaying form. She
ran her hands softly over Janey's firm young body,
touching every square centimeter of her skin from head
to toe. The thong was wound around her right hand like
tape on a boxer's hands. She brought the supple leather
to every part of Janey. Soft sounds came from the woman
working on the young girl, a crooning from a mother to
her child.

Amud whispered his comments as we observed this ritual:
"This is traditional preparation of Princess for
wedding night. This is done every night for one month
before nuptials. By time of wedding night, she so ready
for her husband, she go willingly to bed of fattest,
ugly groom." He looked at me with a grin. "All
princesses dream of handsome prince, but never enough
to go around, especially ones with political
connections or money. Ritual can be continued after
first preparation wears off to ensure an heir."

His face clouded as he continued. "I have been
privileged to see this only once before, when my
beloved prepared my sister for wedding night with Adar.
Him camel dung merchant. Lea, my sister was prepared
for two months before her wedding. It was not long
enough. Much screaming when he was revealed to her at
ceremony. Maybe help if he bathed, but he is stubborn
man. She not been heard from since she passed behind
her flap in his tent." With a pained look he continued.
"That is her only refuge. As long as she stays behind
flap, he may not touch her or command her. But if she
comes out, he has promised to take her third point -
with his teeth, rotten though they are. My beloved was
very close to Lea. Tried to make her accept her Fate.
It crushed her that she failed her only friend.

"This is the first time she use skills since that time.
See how she move hands over tender flesh. See glow that
come to surface after hands pass over. They say leather
of thong is magic that is a power in it. I believe it
is power and magic of wielder. My beloved is the best."

After a thoughtful pause, he added. "My beloved not
fail my sister. Adar is ugliest man in empire. He
desired my sister's hand for years, since she was seven
years old. My father refused him. Adar set up crooked
gambling game at bazaar. Had he shown his face, my
father would have not played. But Adar used friend of
my father's to lure him to table. He lost everything.
Adar came in and picked up notes my father sign. He
gave my father a choice: daughter or poverty.

"Pride is terrible sin. My father reasoned if we in
poverty, my sister be prostitute. It is better to be
bride, yes? Last words she said to father, not in
anger, were she would rather have babies making honest
living than make sons for Adar. My father is grieving,
empty shell, sitting in tent alone. He has not called a
wife to his tent in three years. They laugh at him
behind his back.

"Maybe poverty is not so bad." The thong was now
hanging loose from one hand, doubled over with the two
ends free. There were no knots in the last 6 to 8
inches of each end of the strap, leaving the leather
flat. These twin flat strips were slapped gently over
the reddened skin, increasing the flow of blood to the
surface. "Ah, this is favorite part. This is where body
of princess becomes confused, believing pain is
pleasure. See dew forming, and points standing, begging
my beloved to strike them."

Amud's wife swung the free ends in a figure '8', making
rapid fire 'slap-slap' sounds as she covered Janey's
body with a deeper red glow from the gentle whipping.
She would switch hands often, never missing a beat,
like a prizefighter training on a speed bag. With each
successive pass over Janey's ruddy flesh, the strikes
became a little harder. Then harder still.

"Now comes final part. She sings for my beloved, a cry
to the gods for her groom." With a flick of her hands,
the thong reversed itself and she was now holding on to
the free ends, leaving the knotted double strand to
strike Janey. The blows were hard now, and I could see
beads of perspiration dotting the skin above the
woman's veil. Her arm never slowed. The sounds changed
to a 'snap-snap' as the knots struck. After a few
strikes, she was satisfied Janey was ready. She started
the final phases of the ritual.

A sound as clear as a note from a flute emanated from
the bowed frame of the teen. She had been hanging in a
more-or-less sitting position before. Now, as the knots
beat down on her nipples and pussy, she arched up, legs
and arms outstretched, into a curved bow.

"Oh God! Larry!" I felt a hand slip into mine and
squeeze tight. I turned slightly to see Sally staring
at her daughter's ongoing climax. She had come in as
Amud's wife had begun the final phase.

The blows to her sensitive areas came at the same rate
as the ones prior, keeping her climax going and going
and going. It was only when her strength was gone that
the bound teen collapsed in her bonds. She was sound

Sally tugged at my sleeve. "Larry, I want..."

I placed a finger to her lips to keep her quiet.

"Larry, I want..." She was more insistent this time,
and louder.

Again I shushed her, but this time I turned to Amud and
held up the gag that had been used on Janey with a
questioning look. He shook his head, looked over the
items on the table, and pointed to another one. I
picked it up and slipped it in her mouth before she
could say another word. I didn't know if it was laden
with the special drug or not.

As I tied it behind her neck, I placed a kiss on her
gagged mouth. Strangely, that seemed to please her. She
knelt gracefully on the floor beside me and watched as
Amud's talented wife continued with Janey's song.

The thong was now held in both hands, one end in each.
Using long strokes, the thong was passed over each
erect nipple in several directions. Each knot jarred
the sensitive flesh as the thong brushed by it,
shocking the unconscious brain of the teen. An
ululating sound filled the small room. Amud gasped.
"This is called 'Ecstasy of True Princess.' I have only
heard whispers of it before. Only most sensual females
are receptive to it. I have heard there is one more
step on ladder of... Oh, yes! Watch and listen!"

The thong was slipped between the spread legs of the
singing girl. Bala had one hand in front of Janey and
one behind her ass. The hard knots of the thong were
pulled back and forth over her overheated clitoris and
anus. The notes we heard rose as the speed of the thong

I was still entranced with the haunting sounds coming
from the hanging girl when I realized the woman was
standing before me, holding the thong out to me to
accept. Before taking it, I bowed deeply to her, and
said simply, "I am honored by your gifts."

When I looked up, Amud was beaming at her with pride.

I held Janey in my arms as she was released. She was
resting comfortably, relaxed. Her blonde head rested on
my shoulder. I could hear a contented purring, very
feline. As I held her, she nuzzled into my shirt and
vibrated as aftershocks of her experience rippled
through her body. A heavy sigh followed.

Amud's wife came over to Sally and held out her hand to
her. Sally looked up at me and I nodded my assent for
her to go with the dark woman. She rose from her knees
as gracefully as she had gone down, stripped off her
remaining items of clothing, and waited for the woman's
next command. The drug from the saturated gag was
beginning to have its effect on her as I could see a
glazed, haunted look in her eyes as she looked
longingly at the leather straps and cuffs hanging from
the ceiling. Her desire for the confinement offered by
them was palpable.

I held the quieting teenager as Amud and I observed
Sally's measurement session. Her session followed
pretty much what Janey's had been before, though I
thought there was much more touching by his wife this
time. The gag stayed in place until she had to place
the metal bar and rings in her mouth. I later learned
these were sizing bits for bridle and o-ring gags.

Sally allowed her wrists to be secured over her head.
Amud's wife used a bar about 3 feet long to do this,
securing a wrist at each end. The spreader bar hung
from the ceiling by a single rope attached to the
center of the bar. Sally could be spun around without
untying her simply by hoisting her up off her feet and
giving her a push.

After the flexion of her legs was confirmed to be only
slightly less that her daughter's, her ankles were
attached to each end of another bar, spreading them
about the same width as her hands. She was not spread
wide as Janey had been, but she was open. The upper bar
was raised until Sally's lean body was stretched tight.

The dark woman's eyes danced as she picked up the whip
I had been handling before. Amud translated. "Happy one
sing now? I know late, but not take long. She very
ready. I do quick, but very good. I no leave mark, like
some master. Yes?"

"Yes. But there is no hurry."

"Wise master takes time for important things. Singing
important." She offered me the whip. "You make sing? I
am happy to teach, or to hold Fresh one."

I smiled at her offer and shook my head 'No.'

She wasted no time. The first stroke fell across the
front of Sally's thighs. The second fell quickly after
the first, landing just slightly higher. The sounds of
the whipping echoed like gunshots in the small room,
but there was little evidence of the strokes on her
fair skin. The whip fell quickly up and down, each
stroke slightly closer to her center.

When there was a single stroke before her sensitive
pussy would be the target, the woman changed hands and
began to make a checkerboard of stripes on the skin of
her flat stomach. These blows were harder, as the marks
were easily visible, but by the time the last ones were
laid down, the first ones had already faded.

I had assumed Sally would begin her song with the first
stroke, so I was surprised that there was no sound. I
could feel Janey stirring in my arms, and as I looked
down, she turned her head to observe her mother being
whipped. She watched as the whip was worked up and down
both arms, extending the transient marks into her
mother's sensitive armpits.

As Sally was re-positioned with her back to us, Janey
reached up and pulled my ear close to her mouth.

"Mom is getting ready to explode. I can feel it clear
over here. That lady is really good." She kissed my
cheek gently, "Did you like my song, Larry? I sang it
for you."

"I liked it so well, I may have you sing it every
night," I teased her, squeezing tight. I was pleased at
her deep blush.

Sally's whipping continued with the soft soles of her
feet and worked up to the base of her neck without
stop. Her flesh was a cherry red, but no one mark was
visible more than another. With all this, she had still
not climaxed. I was beginning to feel the tension
within her myself. I think we were all being carried
along the building crest of the tsunami, looking for a
shore to crash upon.

With a smooth move, Sally was turned to face us once
more. Holding the whip like a dueling sword, Amud's
wife pointed the quivering tip of the whip at one of
Sally's straining nipples. There was a pause, as a
conductor lets the anticipation build in silence before
the final notes of a concert. Then the tip of baton
moved with a flick of her wrist, beating a rapid tattoo
on the sensitive flesh.

Sally's voice erupted in a scream, so different from
Janey's that I was frightened for her. Amud's wife,
however, seemed determined to draw it out even more as
she switched to the other nipple. The sound crescendoed
in the room as the speed of the flagellating tip
increased its rhythm. The tip lingered over her nipple
until the dark woman was satisfied she could extract no

Amud, Janey and I all held our breath as we watched the
tormenting tip drop to point directly at the splayed
dripping crotch. Sally, even in her delirious state
tried to thrust her groin towards the tip, urging,
begging for the final contact. Janey tightened her grip
around my neck and shuddered with a gasp. The link, or
whatever they enjoyed between them, had allowed her to
share in her mother's climax.

The tip dropped lower and then flashed up and in with a
jarring intensity. Sally's voice was silenced at this
seemingly vicious attack on her most sensitive of
areas. Amud's hand caught my arm as I charged forward
to protect her. He simply nodded at her, asking me
without words to trust his whip-wielding wife. It was
hard to do.

A second and third blow fell on the exposed tender
cunt. Then the tip of the whip found its final target.
With a sigh, Sally released the tension that had been
building. Had I not seen it, I would not have believed
that the quietness of her climax was mega-times the
intensity of her violent ones. Janey was stiff in my
arms, lost in her own climax, the feelings she got from
her mom over their link having overwhelmed her.

Then it was over.

Chapter 14

After a surprisingly short rest, both girls regained
their perkiness of before, and we prepared to leave. As
we left, the three women embraced each other tenderly.
I looked at Amud and smiled, holding out my hand. He
took both of mine in his in a sign of friendship.

"Would you and your wife consider visiting us sometime?
There are so many questions I have, so much I have to
learn." I paused, a little embarrassed at my
admissions. "Sally is so far ahead of me. I do not want
to lose her."

He grinned broadly. "I, uh, we would be proud to visit.
My wife has no one to talk to here. This is her first
journey from our home in many months. It is hard to
keep our customs in this open land. Yes, we would be
most pleased."

We exchanged addresses, and found that his house was
surprisingly close to ours. His anticipation of the
visit was palpable, and we set the date for one week
later, dinner. I told him I would call him to make sure
we complied with all the necessary customs to make his
visit to our home comfortable. When he looked
surprised, I told him I would not want to place him in
a position where he or his wife would be offended or
insulted by something offered or done. He seemed amused
and amazed at that concept.

The next stop on the afternoon's itinerary was several
blocks away, and after an invigorating walk, the two
vixens were back in full form. Worse, if I was any
judge. There was not a single passerby who was not
flashed by twin high beams peeking out from under those
short tops, male and female alike. I was beginning to
wonder if we would make it to the next shop without
being attacked.

I loosened the retaining safety strap on the holster of
the pistol in the small of my back, just in case. I had
not told Sally of the gun. I had never brought it into
her house, but always kept it in the car. We had not
discussed guns, and I didn't know how she felt about
them. It was her house, after all and I wasn't about to
bring it in without discussing it first. But after the
way breakfast had gone, I figured I was better prepared
than unprepared. I had quietly slipped the gun out from
under the driver's seat after breakfast.

The crowds thinned out and were completely gone as we
turned the last corner. We made our way without
incident to an unmarked door for the next appointment.
We stepped into a plain entry way and then down a long
hall to a small shop in the back of the deep building.
The silence grew as we drew closer to a heavy door.

"Will a boogie-man jump out at us behind the door?"

I grinned and then yelled "BOOOO" while jumping
sideways. Both my companions screamed satisfactorily,
and then fell on me, beating me ineffectively with
their clenched fists. We were still laughing and play-
fighting - with me losing - when the door swung
silently open.

"So, you're finally here. Only ten minutes late. Better
than I expected, given the ambitious schedule you had."
A tall woman stood in the open doorway, looking down
her nose at us regally. She addressed us in short,
clipped sentences in accented English. Her gray-blonde
hair was pulled back into a severe bun. She looked
slowly back and forth between the two skimpily dressed
women in the hall, examining them in turn, finally
settling on Janey. "So, she came too. That is good."

Turning away from the entrance, she simply said,

Confronted with this daunting woman, the girls were
silent for once and we followed her through a small
empty waiting room and continued into a room populated
with clinical equipment. Two identical exam tables were
set up, side by side. Each station was 'manned' by a
younger version of the blonde woman standing in
readiness beside it.

The older woman turned to us. "I am Dr. Rosen. These
are my daughters, Dr. Rosen and Dr. Rosen." She allowed
herself a small smile as she saw the confusion and
amusement on our faces.

Janey handled it the best, as she immediately stuck out
her hand and said first to the elder lady, "Nice to
meetcha, Dr. Rosen." She went over to the nearest
daughter, "Nice to meetcha, Dr. Rosen," and then to the
second daughter, "Nice to meetcha, too, Dr., uh, sorry,
I didn't catch your name...?" The shocked look on the
second daughter's face was priceless and brought a
tremendous guffaw from her mother.

With that, the ice was broken and we all relaxed with a
good laugh. I made introductions and Sally and Janey
learned the women's names were Helga, Inga, and Uta, in
that order. And that the mother preferred "Dr. Rosen."

"Very good Miss Janey, not many people can top our
introduction. I enjoyed the laugh." Businesslike once
more, Dr. Rosen continued, "Now. Janey, you will go
with Uta. Sally, you go with Inga. I will supervise.
You, Mr. Sampson, may watch. But in silence, please."

An interesting attitude for a shopkeeper, but the good
Dr. Rosen was used to having her way. She was also one
of very few experts I could have turned to for the
particular help I sought. I stayed quiet and out of the
way as I watched the two lab-coated women efficiently
strip my charges, help them up onto the two exam
tables, fit their legs in the stirrups, and strap down
their legs and arms. Their legs were spread wide, much
wider than necessary for a simple exam. Then again,
this was not going to be a simple exam.

I caught each of their concerned looks and nodded
reassuringly just as the gas masks descended and they
were instructed to count backwards from 100. Neither
made it past 97.

Dr. Helga Rosen's specialty was the study of female
arousal. Rather than just studying how it happened,
however, she wanted to be able make it happen on
command, to control it. Over the course of her
lifetime, she had developed and invented a wide variety
of electronic and pharmaceutical methods of achieving
it, most of which made the commercially available sex
toys look laughable in comparison. I was tempted to
tell her of Amud's sauce, but declined, deciding to
save it for a later visit.

I had discovered the three Dr. Rosens on a trip to
Norway. After much persuasion, I convinced them that
the need for their services was greater in America than
in their homeland. It took some doing, transferring
medical degrees between countries and getting visas,
but they had eventually arrived with a trunk full of
clothes and their heads full of ideas.

The boutique atmosphere of The Guild attracted
thousands of frustrated rich women, many of whom found
their way to the small waiting room we had passed
through. Business had been slow for about a week. Then
word of mouth started the phones ringing. The three Dr.
Rosens had not slowed down since. It had been a
tremendous favor to me to get this time scheduled for
Sally and Janey on such short notice, but they were
appreciative of my efforts and support, including a
couple of talks with Judge Hawthorne to facilitate
their paperwork when they arrived.

I wondered briefly how the Judge's wife and daughter would react to the good doctors' handiwork. If there
were women immune to orgasm, I imagine it would have to
be one or both of those two. Time would tell. He had
mentioned at the restaurant something about looking for
some 'major changes' in a few months. He hadn't
specified work, but his wife obviously thought so.
Maybe I should talk with Dr. Rosen and set up a visit
for the two Hawthorn women. I would also suggest a few
modifications to their normal procedure.

But, for now, my two treasures were about to become the
most recent recipients of an accumulated 30 years of
research and experience on inducing the female orgasm.
I hoped we all would benefit.

Sally was into bondage. That was painfully obvious to
me. I, on the other hand, had been hooked on technical
gadgets since I discovered I could attach a motor with
an offset gear to a chair and give my sister a thrill.
My sister was older than I, and a whole lot smarter, as
attested by her current lofty position as a Federal
judge. The only way I thought I could compete with her
was to keep her distracted. I later found out - she
told me, out of pity, I think - that only the first
time I used the motor had it been a surprise. She had
watched me building the contraption in our small
apartment, and my childish manipulations to get her to
sit on that particular wooden chair in the kitchen had
been painfully transparent. She knew I wasn't mean
enough - or brave enough - to hurt her or shock her, so
she let herself be manipulated into the seat.

You could have heard the on/off switch in the next
apartment when it went off, and there was a distinct
smell of burning insulation as the motor kicked in. The
chair just about rattled across the floor, but the
effect on her was a surprise, a pleasant surprise. Very
pleasant for her. She patiently, eagerly suffered
through my modifications, sometimes sitting for hours
in that noisy vibrating chair until the downstairs
neighbor would complain. She admitted she thoroughly
enjoyed most of the revisions, and admitted adding some
acting and sound effects to encourage me.

My technical skills improved as I grew older, but never
came close to what the Rosens could do. I had never had
the courage to try my handiwork on anyone other than my
sister, and we had never done anything more sexual with
each other than that. My plans and designs were the
stuff of fantasies and week-long wet dreams. Never in
my life had I dreamed my fantasies could be real.

I had promised Sally and Janey they wouldn't be hurt,
and they wouldn't. There would be no scarring, no marks
and no pain. But there would be some tiny additions to
their bodies that weren't there before their visit. If
things worked out, they would never know they were
there. Until I set them off.

The Rosen's specialty was small stimulators that could
be slipped into or onto a woman's body and controlled,
either via a computer chip program or a sophisticated
remote control or by simple physical pressure on the
device. The miniaturization of their products would
have made the Japanese envious. Each unit was custom
fit and was individually tuned to the woman's body.

I watched as Inga and Uta taped electrodes to the
sedated girls. The first step of the process was to
find the most receptive areas, the erogenous zones, of
the woman. Each woman had her own individual 'hot
spots'. When found, they could be fitted with the
appropriate device. The 'hot spots' were located by
giving a series of stimuli, electric shocks, to various
areas and then measuring the brain patterns via
electrodes placed over the sexual pleasure centers in
the brain.

The location process was begun in the two, and
immediately there was a commotion in the lab. Inga
would stimulate Sally, and Uta would record a response
in Janey. The link that they kept referring to between
the mother and daughter was measurable and real.

The Rosen's, all three of them, were astounded. They
made some hushed comments to each other, and, at my
suggestion, moved the exam tables as far apart as
possible. There was still some interference between the
girls, but they were able to finish the necessary

The second step was to make castings of the intimate
areas of their bodies, inside, as well as outside. A
pliable material was injected into the mouth, vagina and rectum of each and carefully molded around their
aroused clits and breasts. The material hardened and
retained the impressions of every nook and cranny of
the cavities. A vibrator made from one of these
impressions would fit neatly up inside and would hardly
be perceptible until activated.

The third step was to make measurements of the maximum
size that could be accommodated in each of the cavities
without injury. This is usually larger than most women
think, and smaller than men fantasize. By determining
it clinically, with the women sedated and relaxed, the
damage to their clients was kept to a minimum while
satisfying the fantasies of their male counterparts.

The external units designed by the Rosens were both
mechanical and electrical, with more and more
accomplished with electricity. Vibrations were nice,
providing tactile feelings that could be felt by both
parties. Shocks directly to the sexually receptive
areas, however, created a much wider variety of
possible stimuli and allowed for a greater range of
intensity all with a very small device. I elected to go
with the smallest devices, all electric.

The larger units, designed to stretch without damaging,
started as smaller, soft units that could be expanded
after insertion. They used heat and cold as well as
electricity, motion and vibration to stimulate the
tissues. The Clinic's female clients called these
devices 'diabolical,' and quite addictive. Most had
never before been as filled during a sexual event. Word
of mouth had made the 'cunt-busters' one of the most
popular purchases in The Guild.

The implanted biochemical units were complicated, but
were the result of an accidental discovery by Inga. She
had discovered a naturally occurring substance in the
blood that amplified the sexual experience. It worked
in both men and women, but better in women. After
several years of trials, they had developed a tiny
device that would collect and store the naturally
occurring substance from the person's own blood. This
resulted in reservoirs of the stimulant that could be
called upon at will. There was enough of the chemical
stored in one device to keep a woman in orgasm for
about three days. Continuously.

The small devices, as originally designed, were
activated by pressure. That meant they needed to be
located just under the skin over the pubic bone of the
woman. When pounding a penis, dildo or fingers into a
woman during coitus, the partner would compress the
small device and the chemical would be released,
providing the woman with a thrilling and long climax.

The Rosens had had relative success in Norway, and that
was where I had found them. They incorporated my idea
of a remote release into the biochemical devices,
allowing the woman to experience a totally unexpected
thrill at someone else's choosing, as well as having
the stimulant released by pressure. The devices, now
resembling small, flexible micro-tubes of soft plastic,
could now be placed anywhere in the body. The location
of the device in any area turned that body part into a
highly sensitive erogenous zone.

When implanted into a woman's body, it was entirely
undetectable by touch or mammography. Self-sustaining,
it filtered the small amounts of the woman's own
chemical sex-enhancer from her blood and stored it
until it received a signal or pressure. It was released
in tiny amounts that would just enhance or jumpstart
the erotic experience, but not leave the woman a
blithering idiot. Even if it malfunctioned and all the
reserve was dumped at once, it would only give the
woman the best thrill of her life - for a few days.
That was a side effect they felt they could live with.
Production of the tiny tubes was begun.

Sales in America took off. Some women came in by
themselves. Most were referred, or brought in by the
men in their lives. Some were scheduled by desperate
males without their knowledge, like the Hawthorne women
would probably be. After about a week, the time it took
the tubes to completely load up, the women were hornier
and enjoying sex as never before. Their partners were
reaping benefits too.

The implants for Sally and Janey went in without a
hitch. As they were reviving, Helga pulled me to one

"Mr. Sampson, you are familiar with our research, so I
don't need to explain it to you. We have made some, uh,
interesting discoveries in your, uh, friends."

"Dr. Rosen," I interrupted, "I do believe you are
nervous." I smiled. "Please. Relax. Tell me straight

She looked at the floor for a while, the stared me
right in the eye, and blushed. "We, uh, I, uh, Oh,
dear." She sat down behind her desk. I began to be
slightly fearful of what they had found.

"We ran some additional tests. You may have noticed the
excitement between Inga and Uta when we first started."
I nodded. I had noticed, but Sally and Janey had caused
a lot of excitement everywhere they had gone today.
"Your friends, are you, uh, intimate?"

"Yes, with the mother." I decided not to mention the
situation with Janey.

"Oh. And the beautiful little girl, does she have a
sexual outlet?"

I looked puzzled.

"A boyfriend. A stud. A dildo. Anything?"

"Uh, no. I explained to you over the telephone what had
happened to her. Why is this important? Dr. Rosen, you
are beginning to frighten me."

She smiled and gave a little laugh. "No, no, no. Do not
be frightened. I predict you are going to be too tired
to be frightened. Your friends' blood tests were at the
maximum for natural production of the natural sex-
enhancer. It is almost as if they do not need the
devices. I would suspect they are extremely sexual
women, no?

"You will be a busy man, Mr. Sampson, both from
servicing the mother and hiding the daughter from every
male in the city. If you do service both of them - do
not blush, it is common in many countries for fathers
to teach their daughters - you will need some help.

"I have, in my work, come across several researchers
working on the same area, but in men. One such
colleague, Dr. Wang, - yes, unfortunate in his line of
research, but his whole name is even more so. Dr. Long
Wang. Anyway, Dr. Wang's work and ours here have
coincided. Combining his surgical techniques with the
sex-enhancer can give a man the ability to become erect
at will, as often as he wishes, without interfering
with his natural response to sexual stimuli. If
something excited him before, it will still excite him.
But now, every time he wishes. And the act may go to
ejaculation each time, if not interrupted, of course.

"Like I said, Mr. Sampson, if you are helping out both
of these beautiful and sensuous women..." she tapered
off, then, finally, came to the point, "Dr. Wang is
coming next week. I could arrange to have things taken
care of. It is quick, in and out in an hour, and as
painless as the women's procedure, or so they say. You
would be, uh, functional almost by the end of the day
and definitely by the next morning." She shrugged. It
wasn't her area and she didn't know everything. But she
did know other things.

Always suspicious, I asked, "And Dr. Wang? What does he

"Dr. Wang has had difficulty getting his credentials
recognized in this country. Many other colleagues have
made promises to help him, taken much money and done
nothing. He would like you to arrange for him as you
did for us, and also for his daughter."

"Before or after the implant surgery?"

"Surgery first, credentials second. We are your proof.
He will teach me the surgery and assist me until he is
legal." She grinned at me. "I want no more talks with
your Judge Hawthorne.

I gave it a second. "Set it up for a week from

"Good." She wrote down the appointment in her book, as
did I in mine. "Oh, I was meaning to ask you. Does the
good judge have family named Miriam and Judith? Two
persons by these names are scheduled next month. I
wanted to make sure this was not a setup by the
Christian Coalition or Moral Majority. They are such a
nuisance, these hypocrites."

I was surprised the women had visits scheduled. It
probably wasn't a trap, just a 'fact finding' mission.
I reassured her that it was not a setup - or at least,
wouldn't be by the time it happened. I told her I would
have the Judge sign all the necessary papers for their
surgery without the woman's consent or knowledge. I
also told her I thought the good judge would appreciate
a few perverse twists in the placement of the implants.
I had pretty much figured out that he had always
fantasized about spanking his wife - and possibly his
daughter. A few well-placed implants would assure him
of a willing target, the second time if not the first.

During the time I had been claimed by Judith as her
escort, he had encouraged me several times to 'take
control of her' and tan her bottom. By locating some of
the tubes around the broad posteriors of the two women,
the chemical would be released upon swatting, giving
them a thrill if - no, make that when they were
spanked. They could be spanked for a long time and
often. And never know what hit them, other than his
bare hand. Dr. Rosen asked if perhaps the judge would
enjoy it if a device were placed around the anal
sphincter. Entry by a solid object into that tight
cavity would create enough pressure to release the
sexual enhancer. Laughing, we made our way to the
waiting room to meet the four women.

Dr. Rosen coolly shook my hand as we entered the
waiting room, passing me the small remote controls
tuned to each girl's devices. One was labeled "S," the
other "J." With a stone face, she informed me that the
particular modification she had suggested for the other
two patients had been implemented in each of the two
girls, as well as all of the others I had discussed
with her. Both of them would enjoy butt-fucking to the
fullest, as well as many other activities. She wryly
commented that she sincerely hoped I was up to it. Pun

I was in a slight state of shock as we left the waiting

Chapter 15

My only thought as we made our way to the last shop
was, 'How am I going to last 10 days to Thursday of
next week and Dr. Wang?' Thank God the reservoirs took
a week or so to fill up.

The last shop was intended as a safety measure just in
case either of the two prior shops had bombed. I guided
the energetically bouncing cockteasers into the
discreet, but very expensive, jewelry store. The
fittings here were simpler, but just as personal.

They took the ring sizes of each finger and toe, and
measured the waist, neck, and forehead sizes. The
female clerk then simply lifted their shirts up and
measured the nipples relaxed and erect, as well as the
distance between them. Noticing Sally's pierced nipple,
she cleaned it and checked if it was patent. It was.
The clerk also measured the thickness of the flaps
around their navels, and skillfully stimulated the
clitoris of each girl and measured the length and
breadth. cunt lips were measured as well. Both women,
as well as the clerk, were breathing raggedly by the
end of the measurements. It seemed to me the clerk had
enjoyed - and drawn out - the session. Janey was
slightly shaken, more by her response to the woman,
than was Sally. Janey had yet to learn to simply enjoy
the pleasure received from sexual stimulation, whether
from a man or a woman.

After things calmed down a bit, we went into a private
showroom. Colors were discussed, and skin tones were
matched against color charts. For being so similar in
appearance to Sally, I was surprised to learn that
different colors and stones brought out Janey's
highlights. Janey favored rubies and red colors, while
Sally was absolutely stunning in emeralds and greens.
They also had different tastes in jewelry, though
equally expensive. Each picked out a favorite bracelet.
I selected a necklace with rubies and one with
emeralds, and we left.

After what had happened so far today, dinner was
surprisingly uneventful. Apparently, the expensive
trinkets bought me some good behavior by my lovelies,
as there were no arrests for indecent exposure in the
exclusive restaurant. The owners had waived the dress
code for us as I had rented a modest banquet room out
of sight of the main customer area. I had warned the
maitre de that my guests might be underdressed for his
establishment and, after seeing them, he rolled his
eyes. He was also very apologetic

"Mr. Sampson, forgive me. When you asked for, no,
insisted upon female service personnel for this
evening, I misunderstood your intentions. Oye! Now I
understand. My waiters would break every dish in the
house tripping over their tongues if they were to serve
these two magnificent ladies. Please, come this way
down the back hall. I appreciate your discretion in

As he walked away, leaving us in a sumptuous room, all
three of us heard him mutter, "Lucky bastard. Some guys have all the luck." Our laughter met the arriving
service personnel, all attractive young women, all in
very revealing attire. He had misunderstood. I wore a
shit-eating grin all through the meal. Only got kicked
twice under the table, too. One of the serving wenches
had tits "out to here", but her top didn't quite reach
that far...

Dinner was light fare. We still had the ball game to go
to. I left an overgenerous tip as Sally glared at me in
mock-rage. At least, I hoped it was a put-on.

The conversation in the car to the park was sparse, but
not strained. Sally, I think, was still trying to
figure out what had happened at the Rosen's clinic. Of
the two of them, she was the most in tune with her
body. She knew something was different, but wasn't sure
exactly what it was. Janey didn't seem to notice

I had arranged for us to have box seats at the game,
right above the dugout on the first base line. Sally
and Janey loved it. As a cheerleader, I think it was
the first game Janey had been to in a long time that
she didn't have to stand with her back to the action.

It was an exciting game, and the two of them got lost
in the suspense and action of a good hard fought
contest. They were jumping up and down excitedly, not
with the intent to tease, as they had most of the day,
but simply for joy. Their intentions did not lessen the
effects of their bouncing boobs on the rest of the
fans, however, or the players.

By the end of the fifth inning, there were only a
handful of spectators left in the stands as you looked
from our seats on the first base line over across third
base. It looked as if the stands were practically
empty, but there was still a substantial roar. All of
the fans had gradually wandered around behind and to
the sides of our box for a better view of the show the
short shirts and tight shorts were providing. The fans
began to cheer more for the show than the game, with
the loudest cheers coming at times of no apparent
action on the field. The players were puzzled at what
was going on, until they were in the field and could
get a look at my two dates.

At the seventh inning stretch, I bought hot dogs,
peanuts and drinks, beer for Sally and me, soda for
Janey. The peanuts were salty, and the dogs thick with
mustard and kraut, just the way I like them. Two beers
apiece didn't quite slacken the thirst, and by the
bottom of the ninth, I bought a third beer apiece, and
another soda for Janey.

I drank down the top third of my beer and watched the
opposing pitcher strike out the first batter. Two runs
were all that separated the two teams, and when the
second batter walked, the excitement in the stadium
grew. They were at the top of their batting order. We
were all on our feet, waiting, watching...

"Yuck! How can you guys drink this stuff?"

I turned to watch Janey with my beer to her nose,
smelling the brew.

"Janey, don't!"

Too late. She took a deep breath, then chugged a big
swig of the drink, wrinkling her nose like taking
terrible tasting medicine. She caught my eye out of the
corner of hers, and turned and stared defiantly over
the rim of the cup. Ten dagger-like fingernails
imbedded themselves in my arm. I think Sally was trying
to get my attention. She would have to wait, as Janey
had all of mine at the moment.

"Janey, I asked you to stop, not to drink that. You are
still underage."

"So? Who's going to care?"

Quietly I said to her, "I care." Ten sharp pains in my
arm. "Your mother cares, too, a lot!" I looked at her
for a minute, weighing the options available to me in
this public arena. I copped out. "Janey, we will
discuss this later."

She caught the seriousness in my voice, and maybe just
a glimmer of the murderous look in her mother's eye.
But youth, as they say, is wasted on the young. She
turned back to the game, and in the blink of an eye,
was caught back up in it as if nothing had happened.

As it was, she may have been the deciding factor in the
game. The visitors were two runs ahead and one out away
from winning. There was a man on third and the tying
run was on first. The star of the home team, Mac
Washington, hitless for the night, was at bat. Janey,
always one to root for the home team, leaped out of her
seat and stood on her chair, yelling and waving both
hands over her head. The tremendous roar of approval
for her unconscious titty show came right in the middle
of the pitcher's delivery. Whether that had something
to do with it, or whether the pitcher was just tired
isn't clear, but the pitch hung up in the strike zone.
Mac swung for all he was worth and the ball left the
park. The home team had won.

We hung around after the game for a while, then made
our way to the home team locker room. The fans that
were still there, most of them actually, cheered the
two blondes and we left.

Chapter 16

We wandered around underneath the stadium and made our
way under the concrete mass through a maze of corridors
until we got to the one special door I was looking for.
I knocked on the Clubhouse door and the guard opened
it. He greeted me with a big smile and a slap on the
back. He was sort of deaf and spoke very loud.

"Lar, good to see you, guy! You don't come around much
anymore. Coach said you'd be here tonight, though. Come
on in, come in!" He waved me in. He totally ignored the
two girls, something they weren't used to, especially
today. It was if he didn't even see them. I think they
were shocked. I could tell by their faces they were
pissed at being ignored by a man this close to them.
Sally was trying to figure out how the guard knew me so
well, even though her reasoning was going on under a
slight beer-induced haze. Three beers affected her more
than me.

As we entered the Clubhouse, the guard shouted, "Hey
guys, look who's here!"

We entered the open room to shouts of "Larry," "Lar,"
"Sampson" and one heartfelt "You lucky bastard," which
brought a lot of laughs. There must have been a
shortage of towels that night, as most of the guys were
naked and hanging limp but only for a short time. The
sight of Sally and Janey took care of that.

Janey - Sally, too - stood and gawked. I don't know
exactly which scenarios would be in a list of women's
fantasies, but I was pretty sure this would probably be
one of them for most women: twenty-five young healthy
guys on display, naked in the locker-room. Janey was
the first to recover.

"Hi, guys. I'm Janey. Great game! Yeaaaaaa!"

Almost as one they shouted "Hi, Janey!" back at her as
if this sort of visit occurred after every game. I knew
it didn't. She had taken to jumping up and down as she
congratulated them. Sally, not to be outdone by her
daughter, imitated Janey's routine. The cheer following
Sally's performance was louder. I didn't think it was

"WHAT'S ALL THE RUCUS OUT HERE?" I would know that
foghorn voice anywhere. It still haunted my dreams.

A man as big as his voice barreled out into the room,
caught sight of me and came straight over. The guys got
out of his way. The lucky ones anyway

"So, have you decided to come back and play for me? We
still got your uniform hanging in the locker, same one.
Just say the word, fella." As much as we both knew it
would never happen, he still tried to get me back to
play ball for him. It felt good to be wanted.

I just grinned at him and pulled him into a hug. He
loved it, but put up a good fight.

"So, are you going to introduce me or do I have to get
their names from the labels on their diapers? Shit,
man! When did you start robbing cradles? Or did your
Sis get a law passed that says two 12s are as good as a

The guys nearby were holding their sides. I was biting
my lip. He was playing it loose, getting in several
good shots, while I had to be on my best behavior. I
introduced Sally and Janey to my former coach and he
shook hands with each one. I was surprised he shook
them so gently, without causing their shirts to rise.
Knowing him, that took tremendous effort. It also
showed me the respect he had for me.

"So, which one of you do I have to thank for that home
run that won the game?"

Sally and I nodded at Janey. Janey, however, turned and
pointed across the steamy room at Mac Washington and
said, "Him!"

After the laughter died down, Coach said, "Well, little
lady, you have just earned yourself a season ticket to
all the home games." Cheers from the players. He looked
over at me. "But you will have to pay double to get
in." More jeers than cheers, but it was all in fun.

After all the preliminary blustering, he lowered his
voice and pulled Sally and I into conversation off to
one side. I stood where I could keep an eye on the room
and Janey.

"Shit, Larry! When you said they were good looking, I
thought you meant like Judith. These two are fuckin'
beautiful!" Remembering Sally standing there, he
actually reddened. "Sorry, ma'am, please excuse my
French." I knew he was more worried about the effect
the two of them would have on some of the guys and
whether they could control themselves. He wasn't the
only one who was worried. I knew most of the guys and
trusted them. Some of them, however, were new. No risk,
no gain, I kept telling myself. Maybe someday it would
actually be true...

Sally's musical laughter set him at ease, and she
relaxed as she realized this, too, was a planned event.
Her eyes lit up as she figured out she was seeing a
part of my history she did not have a clue existed. We
had never talked about sports and stuff.

"Damn, I don't know if some of the guys, 'specially the
single ones, are gonna make it with the all that, that,
that..." he looked at Sally, lost for words.

"... cunt? Ass? Tits? Pussy?" she helped, laughing at
his embarrassment. Her eyes were following Janey around
the room as well. The teen was wandering around the
room, laughing and talking to naked men as if she did
it every day. She seemed to be remembering every play
each player had made. She was encouraged to re-enact -
with vigor, no less - all the best plays. I noticed
most of those seemed to involve some kind of action
that brought her hands over her head and her shirt up
almost to her chin. I hoped she wouldn't want to do
this after every game.

He roared with laughter. "Damn straight! Her - and you,
missus - walkin' round here with all that tit and ass
showin' may cause some of the boys to forget that
they're gentlemen. And I even had them whack it off
three times before the game."

"I'm sure they'll behave themselves." I was praying
like the dickens that they would. Most of the guys 'dickens' were raised to heaven by Janey's antics, even
as we watched. I watched as Janey walked up to Mac. He
and I had played together in college and then here in
Triple A. I was sorry he had never made it to the
majors. If he ever got there, they would see how good
he was.

Mac and I still kept in contact regularly, Hell, we
were best friends, but I had not warned him about this,
as I had the coach. Mac eyed me across the room and I
winked at him. From his glare, I knew I would hear
about this for a long time. I wondered if he would tell
his wife. She was the jealous type. Nice, but jealous.

We watched Janey chat with him for a while and then
hand him a Sharpie marker.

"Where did she get that?" I whispered to Sally. I knew
she didn't have any pockets.

"Don't know. I'll go find out."

Mac looked flustered for a moment, then took the pen,
trying not to drop the towel held strategically over
his groin. I couldn't tell, but it looked like he was
very, very erect. I knew he was embarrassed as hell.
His personal equipment gave credence to the myth that
black males have big cocks. He was well endowed, and
very shy about it. He had hardly dated the entire time
I had played ball with him, and not for lack of
available or willing women. Handsome and smart, he made
a fine catch. Now, he just looked flustered, wondering
where to put his hands.

We saw him looking for a piece of paper to write on,
and Janey shook her head 'No' as she pointed to her
shirt. His face was a tortured affair. He tried to
write without touching her, but she would have none of
that. She grabbed his hand and pressed the pen firmly
into the cloth, and her tit. The pressure with which
she pushed down on his hand made her breast sag. He
looked at me for a second, gave me a wry 'Fuck You'
look and placed his other hand under Janey's soft tit
flesh to hold it up.

The towel he was holding in that hand, covering his
groin, fell to the floor. I could hear Janey's gasp
even from where I was across the noisy room. His ebony
cock was proudly standing there and she was devouring
it with her eyes. I thought I saw her begin to reach
for it, but he deftly shifted it away from her. He
always did have some smooth moves. I think he also
tried to distract her by rubbing his thumb over her
nipple, but that may have been an accident. Sure,
that's it. It must have been...

Just as he finished signing his name over her right
breast, Sally walked up and presented her chest for
signing. She said something to him and the big man grinned. His letters were larger this time, his name
scrawled across both her boobs. He gently held the
bottom of each soft orb in turn as he signed his
autograph across their tops. From her shivering
reactions, I figured he had stroked a couple more
nipples in the signing process.

Sally took the pen from him and slipped it down the
crease in her tight shorts, saying something to him as
she did. I have never seen an erection fall so fast as
his did then. Sally said something else, laughed and
kissed him on the cheek, and I saw him give her a small
smile of apology. As she gently guided Janey back
towards me, holding her firmly by the arm, Mac grinned
over and gave me a big 'OK' sign. I knew he meant
Sally, and not just for her tits. He and I talked all
the time. He knew what she meant to me. I just wish his
cock hadn't been so glad to meet her, too. But a near
naked lady in the locker room was too much of an
invitation. I couldn't blame him really.

"We're going to miss him 'round here."

I looked at the Coach in surprise. I hadn't heard they
were letting him go. Something wasn't right.

"That's where I was when you come in. New York was on
the phone. They finally listened to me and are going to
give him his shot at the 'Bigs'. He gets to replace
that guy, whats-his-face third baseman that tore a
muscle yesterday. Mac'll do good. He's ready."

I couldn't have agreed more.

We said our good-byes to a chorus of cheers and
catcalls. All in all, the guys had behaved themselves
admirably, under the circumstances. The parking lot was
deserted as we walked to my car.

As I reflected, my girls had also behaved quite well,
under the circumstances.

Chapter 17

"Hey, Janey!"


"Here. Catch!" I tossed her my car keys.

"Really? You'll let me drive your Beemer? Really? Oh,
shit! I can't! I don't have my driver's permit with

"Here. Catch again!" I called out. I tossed her a thin
leather billfold. She opened it up and found her brand
new learner's permit inside. "Never leave home without

"Here, catch this one," came from Sally as she wound
herself around me. We were deep into a serious kiss
when I felt some serious pressure on my nuts. Her hand
was grabbing me. I think she wanted my attention. She
got it.

"Hey, dear? Uh, that's, uh, a little tight, isn't it?"

"Not nearly tight enough, Mister 'I'm in fucking charge
today.' My daughter has beer to drink less than an hour
ago and now she's going to drive? What in the Hell are
you thinking?"

"I am aware of that. But we, you and I, have had much
more to drink than she had. But you're right. I'm
sorry. I should have been better prepared."

"God damn fucking right, you should have. And you're
also right, too, damn you. I can't drive, and you
shouldn't. Janey will have to. But we're not finished
discussing this, Mister. Not by a long ways."

Somehow, I had figured that out already. At least when
we parted she didn't tear anything off my body.

Janey had been adjusting the mirrors and the driver's
seat during our little passion play, so when we climbed
in, she was all ready to go. Even the radio stations
had been changed and she was busily re-programming the
buttons for the ride home. I checked her preparations,
turned down the volume about 70% and nodded. "Let's go

She carefully started the car, pulled out of the lot
and headed for the highway. She only asked for
directions once. I was impressed. She had been paying
attention after all. She handled herself and the
powerful car with a confidence that belied her
inexperience. Being Sally's daughter, I should have
expected as much.

Sally stuck her bare feet up between the seats and onto
my lap. Her groans of pleasure and delight as I
massaged her tired toes soon turned to soft snores. It
had been a long day and one too many beers, I guess.
Janey and I rode along in silence for a time.

I saw Janey check the mirror several times, looking to
see if her mom was asleep.

"Larry?" she asked softly.


"You know she loves you, don't you?"

I let it hang there, not knowing where she was going.

She continued. "She knew the first time she met you
that you were the one, that you were special. So did I.
When she came home that night, she was different, kind
of. Better. It was like she didn't have this big hole inside her.

"I asked her what had happened to her and she laughed.
I hadn't heard her that happy, well, ever, I don't
think. And she was sooo excited. She told me she had
met some guy at that stupid party and that he had blown
the easiest and best fuck of his life by asking her to
marry him.

"Don't get mad, Larry. She meant it nicer than it
sounds. She was really, really happy you wanted her for
permanent. That's why she teases you so much by playing
hard to get."

It was quiet, then "Thank you for making her happy."

"She makes me happy, too, Janey. Sometimes I think I
would almost die without her in my life."

"I know. That's why I don't want to mess it up."

I didn't say anything. I wanted to let her go at her
own pace. "Mom told me I could have sex with you if I
wanted. That you would teach me things and make me feel
good about it after, well, you know, what happened and

She looked over at me quickly, then back to the road
ahead of us. Shyly I heard, "Do you want to teach me?"

"If that's what you want." I was on dangerous ground

She was quiet for a long time. I didn't interrupt her.
"I, uh, oh Gosh this is embarrassing! Um, yeah, Larry."

"Yeah what?" I knew, or thought I did, what she was
referring to.

"Yeah, I want you to, uh, teach me and stuff."

"...and 'stuff?' What 'stuff?'"

"God! mom said you could be difficult! Geeze! OK. I
want to be your little sex toy. Happy?"


"No? Huh?"

"No, I am not happy. And 'No', you will not be my
little sex toy."

"But, but..."

"Janey, your mom asked me to help you feel better about
sex. She told me to do whatever it took to do that. I
agreed, but only if you were willing. Do you

"Yeah. No, not really."

"Janey, are you willing to let me help you?"

"Duh! That's what I've been saying!"

"Do you also understand that I am scared shitless that
if I mess up by either helping you too much or not
enough that I could lose your Mom?"

"You'd have to really screw up badly, Larry. She
really, really loves you."

"More than she loves you, her daughter?"

Janey was silent for a minute. "Oh. Yeah. I see."

We drove a bit longer in silence. I think she was
beginning to appreciate the delicate position I was in.
I forgot she was a teenager. She was thinking about
only one thing. Sex.

"So, Larry? Are you going to fuck me?"

I just about choked on my complacency. "I don't know.
We'll have to see when we get there."

"You don't want to?"

Damn these women and their questions. Don't they know
any easy ones? Like, what's Plank's Constant, or why
are coins round, or do dogs think? Did I want to fuck
her? Give me a break!

"Yes, Janey I want to. I want to very much. But..."

"There's always a 'but,' isn't there?"

"... but I don't know it I will, if we will. Right now,
I'd have to say we probably will. But I don't know."

"Oh, goody!" She sounded truly happy, like a kid with a
lollipop. Whoa! Bad image. I flashed back on the mental
image of her kneeling between my knees. I was jerked
back to reality by her next question.

"So if it's OK if I do it with you, can I do it with
other people?"

"Are you asking me if it's OK if you fuck around? Or
did you have someone particular in mind?"

"Well, kind of, that black guy on the baseball team.
Mac? Would it be OK with him? You know him, right? What
about with him?"

I just about burst out laughing. His ego would never
let go of this one. "Well, yeah, I know him pretty
well. And he is a great guy. I couldn't think of anyone
I would rather have you fuck around with, or marry, for
that matter. You have a good eye. You probably picked
the best one in the room. But, I think his new wife might have something to say about it, if you know what
I mean."

"Oh. I didn't know he was married."

"Almost two years, now. I was supposed to be best man at his wedding, but I was, uh, out of the country. She
wouldn't reschedule, but that's OK. Coach stood in for

It was quiet for a long time. Somehow I didn't think
she was done.

"Larry, what was today about?"

"What do you mean?"

"The clothes and stuff. Why"

"You didn't like the clothes I picked out?"

"Oh, yeah, they're cool. But, well, I would never wear
things like this in public, especially where someone I
knew would see me. Mom, neither."

"How did the clothes make you feel?"

"Kind of sexy. No, really sexy, but cheap. Slutty,

"And how you did the two of you behave today?"

"Pretty slutty, I guess. I'm sorry if we embarrassed
you. But isn't that what you wanted? Didn't you want us
to act that way?"

I laughed. "Well, I hadn't imagined you would get into
it as much as you did, but, in a way, that makes it
better. Yes, I did want you to act kind of slutty
today. Never again, mind you, or at least not in
public, but it was OK today."

Now she laughed. "It was kind of fun, but it wasn't me,
you know, and for sure, never again in public. But,
didn't you like it?"

"I loved it, a lot! So did everyone else who was
fortunate enough to see you, too. That was the whole

She looked puzzled in the darkened interior of the car.
I let her think about it for a while.

"I don't get it. Nothing happened."

"Exactly!" She still looked puzzled. "Janey, if you can
look and act like you did today and have not one single
man attack you, or even threaten you or hassle you,
what does that tell you about what should happen when
you act the way you normally do?"

A pained look crossed her face as she was suddenly
reminded of the attack. "But, Steven..."

"Yes. Steven. Steven did it. You did nothing to make
him do what he did. You are not responsible for what
happened to you. That's what today was all about."

Tears trickled down her cheeks and I eased myself into
position to grab the wheel. I thought she was going to
collapse, or worse, relapse into her depression. I
envisioned her turning head-on into an oncoming truck
to end it all.

"You did all of this for me? Planned the whole day,
arranged with all those people?"

"Well, I didn't have anything to do with the fans at
the game, but, yes. I did it so you could see how real
men, most of them just average guys, react to a
beautiful woman."

"They did react, didn't they?" She grinned over at me.
"Did you see Mac's thing? Wow! It was almost as big as

"The guys were excited, yes, aroused by your flaunting.
And they controlled themselves. There was no doubt you
aroused them, was there? And you teased them, too,
daring them to do something, didn't you?"



"OK, OK! I get it already."

I settled back in the seat.

"Thanks, Larry. I do feel better. I won't forget this."

Over the first hurdle, on to the next...

Chapter 18

We got home late that night and I carried my sleeping
beauty from the back seat into the house. I laid her
down on our bed and then turned my attentions to deal
with the one big problem left. As I left the room, I
remembered my pistol was still stuck in my waistband. I
removed it and placed it under my blazer, out of sight.
I would take it out to the car after I finished with

I went to my office at the end of the hall and got one
of the unpacked boxes I had brought from my apartment
when I moved in with Sally. After a quick stop in the
living room, I hauled the box down to Janey's room. I
knocked on the doorframe, the door being open, as


"We still have one more issue to discuss, young lady."

Her woeful look with those big puppy dog eyes told me
she had been hoping I would have forgotten it. She knew
what I was going to talk about and she knew she wasn't
going to like it. "Oh. Yeah. Uh, sorry about that?"

Damn, she was good. That last little wistful apology
almost did in my resolve. But there were serious issues
at stake here, not the least of which was the
consumption of alcohol by a minor. I took a deep breath
and plowed onward.

"I'm afraid 'Sorry' won't do, this time. You need to
understand that when we are outside of this house, you
cannot break the law, period. As long as you are a
minor, you must behave within the limits set for you,
both by society and by your mom and, now, me. Sometimes
you will be allowed to push some of those limits like
you did today. You and Sally had all the freedom that
you wanted to behave as cockteasers. I didn't object to
anything you did, however outrageous. But the beer was
off limits and I made that clear. What you did was over
the line. You understand that, right?"

She nodded, silent.

"Now, about your punishment... I thought about spanking
you for it, but we would both probably enjoy that way
too much for that to be considered a real


"...then I thought about grounding you, but you're
moping around here all the time anyway. So, what I want
you to do is to pick out ten books from this box." I
dropped it on her desk. "Then, along with this one
other book I picked out, I want you to read them and
write a three-page book report on each one of them by
next Monday night at the latest. Agreed?"

She nodded, relieved that there would be no pain

"Oh. Read this one last. This is the one I picked out
especially for you to read. It's one of your Mom's
favorites." I handed her a small, well-read paperback.

"OK, I guess." She was getting off light, and we both
knew it. But it was the thought that counted, I
guessed. She had crossed the line and she acknowledged
I had the right to remind her of it. Actually, I felt
pretty darn good about how it had gone.

Janey stopped me on my way out the door. "Larry, as
long as you're going to act like one, can I call you
`Dad' sometimes?"

I grinned and nodded at her. I didn't trust my voice to
speak. I had tears in my eyes as I walked back to
Sally's bedroom. I had a knot in my throat and wasn't
paying much attention as I walked back down the hall to
our room. I anticipated a quick trip to the car and
then to bed. If I was lucky, Sally would wake up,
forgive me, and I would get lucky. Otherwise, we'd just
get up late tomorrow morning.

I reached under my blazer for my gun. Just as the
realization was sinking in that it wasn't there, I
heard the distinctive sounds of a round being chambered
in the large caliber automatic.

"Looking for something, big fella?" It was said
jokingly, but I wasn't' laughing.

I didn't move. Not a muscle. I didn't even breathe.

"This isn't funny, is it."

"No." I waited a second. "Sally, is the gun pointed at


"Sal, I want you to listen very carefully. Move very
slowly and point the gun out the window."


"Now put it down very gently on the bed." I heard her
moving as she turned to put it down.


The sound of the gunshot filled the house. I waited for
what seemed like an eternity for that certain sickening
feeling of pain, the thud you hear when the bullet
strikes your flesh, then the crunch of the bone, the
slamming impact as the speeding lead projectile
penetrates the tissue, deforms and dissipates all its
energy on the internal organs.

That moment of waiting seemed to last forever. But
nothing happened. The bullet had missed me. Spinning, I
saw Sally with a ghastly look on her face, horrified,
but no blood. The gun had discharged as she placed it
on the bed. The kick had thrown it from her hand,
fortunately without ripping off a finger. There was a
large hole in the center of mattress and the smell of
cordite filled the room.

I picked up the gun and flicked the safety back on.

"I didn't know the safety was off." The little voice of
a scared little girl whimpered.

Of all of the stupid things to say, that was probably
the stupidest, but the truest, as well. I bit my tongue
so I wouldn't speak what I was thinking. I checked my
crotch and the floor for a wet spot, instead. I was
still shaking.

"Is it safe to come out now?" Janey's quivering voice
came down the hall.

"NO! Oh hell! Yes, Honey, everything's OK, but go to
bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight...Larry."

I put the gun in the nightstand and crawled into bed.

"Are you mad at me?"

I thought about it. "No. Not really. Scared shitless,
but I'm not mad at you. Sorry about the gun. I
shouldn't have brought it into the house at all. My

"No. I know better than to play with unfamiliar guns. I
haven't ever seen one like yours. My fault." I didn't

Sally snuggled up against me and reached around me to
fondle my limpness. "You were scared, weren't you?" I
didn't respond as usual to her magical touch. Like I
said before, self-preservation and all...


She fondled me gently for a while longer, eventually
having the predicable effect. Then reaching lower and
grabbing my balls, she applied some pressure, more than
playful pressure. I sensed she wanted my attention.

"We have some unfinished business."

"Uh-huh," I forced out between clenched teeth.

"You were in charge today, and Janey drank beer. Then
you let her drive. I was willing to trust you, up to a
point. So you got lucky and everything turned out OK.
Well, better than OK, pretty good, actually. But I
think you need a reminder about just how much
responsibility it is to be in charge, especially in
charge of a teenaged girl, especially when that girl is
my daughter!"

I waited for her verdict. She was going to be the
judge, jury and executioner, what with her hand firmly
grasping my nuts. "There will be no action for this
puppy for - how long does Janey have to read those
books? Six days? Agreed?

I shook my head and got a firmer squeeze of my nuts in

"Wait!" I gasped. "Before you do some real damage, I am
not refusing to accept the consequences for what
happened today. I was responsible, and allowed
something to slip through the cracks. What I disagree
with is that I don't like using sex, or no sex,
actually, as a punishment. I don't think its right." I
paused waiting for her response. Nothing. She was not
in a negotiating mood.

"But if that's what you want," she nodded her head
against my back, "then you'll be on the same
restrictions for the same length of time for playing
with my gun. My other gun."

"Oh." Silence. "Well, fair's fair, I guess."

"It's going to be a long six days."

"What's the matter, don't you think you can do it?"

"Oh, I can do it, no sweat. I was just worried about
you, babe." She hated to be called that.

For that I got a punch in the ribs. "Want to make a bet
on it?"

"No thanks. I cherish everything I have too much. I'm
afraid of what I might lose."

"Silly man, don't you know you'll never get rid of me?"

"No, I didn't. But it's nice to know how you feel about
me. Goodnight sweetie."

"Goodnight. 'Dad.'"

"Geeze, what did you do, listen at the door?"

"Uh-huh. I'm a Mom, remember? It's in my job
description. 'Night!"


Chapter 19

The next morning Janey bounced into the kitchen, full
of energy and noise. She was greeted by the sullen
expressions of two horny adults who knew they weren't
going to be getting satisfaction for another 5 long
nights. It didn't deter her or dampen her obvious
energy in the slightest. She was wearing, if you could
call it that, one of the wispiest, sheerest short
nightgowns I had ever seen her wear, and nothing else.
A blind man could have seen her she was so exposed.

It didn't do anything to relieve my hard-on. It did
even less when she came over and sat on my lap,
directly on my stiff cock. She wiggled around until the
tip slipped out of my pajama bottoms and up between her
firm thighs.

"Good Morning, Dad. Sleep well?"

I eyed her suspiciously. Just as I thought, she was
grinning impishly. I grunted and focused on not raping
her right there on the granola and yogurt.

"I'm sorry if I got you in trouble. Really, I am. Is
there anything I can do to make it better?" She wiggled
her firm ass suggestively on my cock. It slipped a
little further between her thighs. Her seductive and
sexy actions belied the innocent expression on her
face. She knew exactly what she was doing and the
effect she was having on me.

"It's all right, Honey. I'll survive. But," I lifted
her up and off my lap, "this definitely isn't going to
help me survive."

"I know. I just couldn't help it. I borrowed one of
Mom's sexy things to tease you." She posed obscenely
for me. "Don't you think mom would look hot in this,
Dad? Huh? How about like this?" She bent over facing
away from me. "Or maybe like this?" She cleared the
dishes from in front of me and hopped up on the table.
She spread her legs wide, dipped a finger in the butter
and slicked up her cunt lips. "Oooh, I bet it would go
in so smoooooth."

In desperation I stood up and went to the refrigerator.
There, I got a pitcher of ice water and calmly poured
half of it over her head. She sat on the table stunned,
sputtering. The thin material of her gown clung like a
second skin to her near naked body, giving me serious
second thoughts about the wisdom of my actions. I don't
recall ever seeing anything so God Damned sexy as she
looked right then. The second half of the pitcher I
poured down the front of my pajama bottoms. It was the
best relief I could imagine, and for the first time I
could remember since I had seen them in their short T-
shirts and tight shorts the morning before, I was not
achingly erect.

"Go get dressed, Janey, you'll catch cold running
around all wet like that."

She glared at me then burst out laughing. "I was just
trying to make it even. Mom's taking it worse than you

I looked over at Sally, surprised. Then I noticed the
red eyes and the puffy lids, signs of a sleepless
night. She gave me a wan smile.

She nodded at the pitcher of ice water. "Nice move. I
wondered how you'd get out of it. She was determined to
break you. For my sake, even if it meant having sex
with you. Though I don't think the little scamp would
have particularly minded doing it, at that. I'll have
to remember that trick with the water. Messy, though."
She nodded her head towards the corner. "Mop's in

I looked over to Janey. "No fair taking sides, kid.
This is between your mom and me, OK?"

"OK. Sorry." She dripped out of the kitchen.

I turned back to the corner, headed for the mop and
bucket. "Sally, did she mean, 'Sorry,' as in Mom, I'm
sorry it didn't work, or as in Larry, I'm sorry I
teased you?"

"Hell if I know. But if you hadn't dumped water on her,
I was about ready to jump her bones."


"Hey, if it feels good..."

"No cheating. Agreed?"

Her agreement was a long time coming. But she gave her
word very reluctantly.

The week passed. And passed. And passed again. It
seemed to have gone by several times over. And then it
was the next day. Friday lasted a week. Saturday lasted
two weeks. Saturday night we couldn't even be in the
same room, none of the three of us. Fortunately, it was
a big house. I slept on the couch, until Sally came out
and said it was worse being miserable alone than being
miserable together. We agreed not to hold any
grumpiness against each other, given the circumstances.
However, I knew my limits. I wouldn't go in to the
bedroom. She slept with me on the couch. That was

Sunday I had several calls to make to arrange for the
visit of Amud and his wife. We spent a leisurely time
on the telephone, and by the time we were finished, the
evening had been arranged. I hoped Sally would be
pleased. I also made several calls to arrange the next
"Family Day." I wasn't sure Sally would like the next
special day's events. But it had to be done and it
wouldn't kill her.

Monday I got up early, took an icy cold shower, and
went to my office down the hall. There I closed the
door and got to work. At ten o'clock the door to the
office slammed open. Sally stood there gesticulating,
clearly exasperated. It was almost comical. Her mouth
was moving, but she said nothing. Not a word. At
eleven, it was the same. At twelve thirty she burst in.

"What in the Hell did you give that girl to read. I am
going crazy."

A distinct giggle came from Janey's room.

"What's she reading, one of your filthy books?"

I thought back to the books in the box. Ooops.
"Actually, it's one of yours. I gave her your copy of
'The story of O' that I found in the library stuck
behind the encyclopedias."

"Oh, great! Just fucking great! Well, young lady," she
yelled down the hallway, "it doesn't take that long to
read the damn book!"

"I'm memorizing the good parts. There are a lot of
them, ya' know," came laughing reply from the closed

"Well, keep both hands on the book, damn it. You're
driving me crazy!"

A musical tinkling came back at her. "Sooorrrry."

The office door slammed shut. I wondered how the house
stayed intact with the amount of slamming and banging I
heard for the rest of the afternoon. Dinner was two
slices of bread and a piece of cheese. And ice water. I
considered soaking my dick in it.

That night we both went to bed and slept as far apart
as possible. The seconds ticked by an hour apart.


I had apparently dozed off. My alarm went off at 11:59.
One minute to Tuesday. I had set it to the Atomic Clock
in Boulder, CO. I was taking no chances on cheating.


Her alarm went off seconds later.

We lay there, letting the last 30 seconds of Hell end.

"NOW, Damn it. Fuck me, Larry. Please?"

I rolled over on top of her nude body. My iron hard
prick rested between her thighs riding up onto her
stomach. This was not going to be a finesse fuck.
Neither of us had the need - or the patience - for
that. This was going to be a race to the finish, two,
three strokes tops. I cocked my hips, moving the
throbbing head of my cock to nudge against her swollen
cunt. I was all set to go, but first, I wanted to
extract a simple promise...

"Sal, give me your word we'll never do this again,"
referring to the enforced celibacy. I pressed forward
so that the tip split her lips open just slightly.

"Lar, give me your fucking cock, or we'll never do this
again." She emphasized her words with thrusts of her
hips, trying to force more of my cock into her.

Leaning heavily on my elbows, I placed my hands on her
chest and pressed her down onto the mattress. As she
couldn't slide any lower without ripping her tits off
her chest, she was foiled in her attempts to impale
herself on me. But I did move to allow the whole of my
cock head to slip inside her. The hot, tight lips of
her pussy closed around the corona. I swear it was
trying to suck me in. I tried again.

"Sal, I'm serious. This has been the hardest week of my
life. Please promise me. Never again will we withhold
sex as a punishment."

"I don't give a shit how hard you have been. It hasn't
been easy for me, either. And giving Janey that book
was a low blow, dirty. I only care that you're hard
now. Now shut up and fuck me. Or pull out and let me do

I didn't pull out. I didn't go in. I stayed very still
and kept her pinned to the bed. What had begun as a
frenzied fuck, a race to the finish, had become a
contest of wills. There suddenly seemed to be a whole
lot more at stake here than I had imagined. Why is that
always the case when it comes to women and sex?

I felt her first contractions begin as a light flutter
and then her pussy clamped down on the head of my cock.
If cunts had teeth, you could have called me Ichabod. I
knew I had to do something but the only thing I could
do was to focus on not coming myself. I centered
myself, remembering something a martial arts sensei had
told me years ago when I took karate in high school. I
emptied my mind and imagined a fist, tight around the
neck of my cock. I willed myself not to cum, squeezing
that fist tighter and tighter, blocking the egress of
the ejaculate.

I heard a gasp from Sally. It brought me back from
wherever I had been in my mind. I was afraid I had hurt her. I opened my eyes to find her looking up at me, a
startled look in her eyes. Her face was wet, as if she
had been crying, or more likely, I had been. As I
became more aware, I felt that my whole body was
drenched in sweat. Her face was covered in my sweat
that had dripped down off my face above hers.

I looked down at my hands that had been holding onto
her soft breasts, fearful of the damage I had done to
them. They were a good inch off her chest. She was not
pinned to the mattress, yet she had not moved down my

"OK, Uncle. You win. I promise we will never again
withhold sex from each other in anger or punishment.
Now," she looked up at me with concern, "if you're OK,
can we do it now?"

"Yes, Love." I shoved into her as gently as I could,
but it still felt like a yard engine shuttling freight
cars in a rail yard. She came in two strokes. I heard a
cry from underneath me, and an echo in the doorway.
Turning my head, I saw Janey standing in the door,
trembling, sharing the force of her mother's orgasm. As
it subsided, I called her over to the bed. She needed
to be held.

They came three more times before I let go of the fist
around my cock. It wasn't as bad as it sounds, really.
The next two orgasms they experienced were one on top
of the other. It was the last one that took a while.
The immediate edge was off and she made me work for
this one. When I came, I flooded her.

"Oh, God, Sally. I'm cumming. I'm cummmmmming."

"Yes. Yessss, oh yess. OH GOD! Are you pissing in me?
What's going on? Oh. Oh. I'm cumming too, you bastard.

I hadn't peed in a bed since I was three. Even at camp.
I didn't this time either. It was all cum. It had
sprayed into her for a good 10 to 15 seconds. Not like
a series of pulses. More like a fire hose. Second
mattress in a week we would have to replace. The
furniture guys were going to love me. Maybe I could get
a quantity discount.

Later, resting, we three snuggled. It was different,
but great, having two blonde heads on my chest. They
were both very still. Finally, Janey piped up,

"What the heck was that, a car wreck? Remind me not to
take marriage counseling from you two."

I looked over at Sally. "What does she mean, a car

Sally tilted her head up to look at me. "You are much
more of a man than I gave you credit for, Larry
Sampson," she started quietly. "You know I have always
prided myself on my strength, my will. But I am an
amateur compared to you." I must have looked confused.

"You remember the ice water you dumped on her last
week? And then you dumped it on yourself? Janey and I
were both about to lose it that first morning. There
was so much sexual tension in the air, and it was
acting like an amplifier. Or maybe it was because you
were there, too, adding your tension, your male tension
to the mix that made it worse. Anyway, we were this
close to jumping you. Seriously. Fuck the bet, fuck the
punishment, and fuck the agreement. After only one day,
we were going crazy. Then, when the water hit you, we
both felt something inside of us, too, and we knew
there was a link to you. One strong enough we could
hang onto, to make us stronger. To help us get through
this last week."

Janey piped up and continued, "Remember those nights
after the attack, when you sat with me? I knew you were
there. At first it felt strange, having someone else
other than mom on the link, but I didn't realize until
now that that's how I knew you were there. It wasn't
that strong at first, but I could feel the good in you.
You didn't try to come inside my head and get at me
like the doctors were doing. You just sat there, night
after night, showing me the way out, waiting for me
when I was ready. Then that last night, you kind of
fell asleep and the link got really strong. When I
reached out and touched your hand, I could, well, talk
to you, sort of. It's hard to explain. But even then,
in your imagination or your dreams you didn't think of
me in a scary way. All you could think of was how many
great and wonderful things I would do. And you really
liked that blue suit," she finished, teasing me gently.

Sally picked up the explanation. "But it's not just
that. Janey and I have found that our link is stronger
when you are around, like you're an amplifier, or
something. Not all the time, but when you are feeling a
simple emotion, like anger or love, or when you're
really focused, the effect you have can be really

"Like now, I was just beginning to orgasm - Janey, too
- when it was sucked out of me, I mean us. It just went
away. I don't know how I know, but you drained that
energy from us. I can't fight that kind of strength,
the kind you have in you. If you were any other man, I
would be afraid for my life. As it is, I'm not sure."

"I see, a car wreck." I thought a minute. "Sally, why
did you fight me on giving your word? We both know it
isn't good for us to do that. Why resist?"

"I've never not been in control. I've always had to be
the person in control sexually. Except when, well, you
know... Having to rely on you for the strength to do
something I have been capable of doing all my life
hurt. I got mad, angry at you, even though I was the
one who was weak. I just wanted, needed to have it on
my terms."

"Sally, you know I would never dream of hurting you. I
didn't even know what was going on, what I was doing. I
was just trying to be strong for you, to prove to you
that I was worthy of your love and trust. I didn't mean
to frighten you or ridicule you. Please, forgive me. If
I suck anything else out of you, please, tell me to
stop. Unless," and I broke into my Marx Brother's
voice, "of course, I'm busy between your legs...."

"Eeewww, gross" and "Oh, Larry, not in front of Janey"
comments were accompanied by twin elbow in my sides.

As we drifted off I reminded the girls that the next
day was going to be another family Day. I got mixed
reviews, but nothing that really indicated trouble. The
two petite blondes snuggled into me, two hands slipped
down and cradled my cock. Not to elicit a response,
although there was a predictable one, but more in a
cuddly way. I decided not to object, and closed my

It was the first good night's sleep we had had in a

Chapter 20

The next morning I rousted the two sleeping beauties
out of bed at 6:30; late for me, early for them. We had
a lot of work to do today, and that called for an early

Janey was in good spirits, but Sally resented the time
away from my cock. She felt I owed it to her. I felt
differently. You don't make up for things lost due to
discipline. Else, why bother? If you're going to get it
later, why bother keeping it from you now. That was one
reason I didn't like to use sex as a tool of
discipline, at least the withholding of it as a
punishment. Actually, I think she just woke up in a
piss-poor mood. She had a bad case of the grumpies, but
tough shit.

After a light breakfast, granola and yogurt, juice and
coffee, I bundled the two dwarfs, Happy and Grumpy and
both Sleepy, into the Jeep and headed to the 'back 40'.

Sally's property extended a couple of miles back into
the rolling hills. There was one spot in particular I
had in mind, a miniature box canyon not too far back. I
loaded shovels and burlap sacks into the back of the
Jeep, along with a basket lunch I had prepared the
night before and some other supplies. Sally grumbled
when she saw the lunch basket, as that told her this
was not going to be a short drive in the country. In
other words, no fucking for at least five hours. She
was not a happy camper.

Janey had been so excited to go into her room to see
what attire I had picked out for them. Her disappointed
face was priceless as she and Sally emerged in sturdy
Levi jeans, suitably tight, of course, heavy work
shirts, leather gloves, boots, a baseball cap and worst
of all, underwear. Not the frilly kind, but sturdy
cotton panties and heavy duty sports bras. No flashing
today. I just smiled, and told Janey I thought she
looked nice in those clothes. I was telling her the
truth, and she knew it. It helped.

We bounced overland in the Jeep to the canyon I had in
mind. I unloaded the shovels and sacks and divided them
into three piles. I demonstrated how to fill the sacks
with sand from the nearby dry creek bed and tie them
off. It isn't difficult, but after the first two or
three, it becomes monotonous. Then it's just plain
backbreaking work. There were a couple of hundred bags
to fill.

Janey and I finished our sacks at about the same time.
I was more than a little surprised that she kept up
with me. I was carrying the filled sacks over to
another spot close by and was stacking them in a wall
about waist high or a bit higher. It got hotter as the
sun rose, and I took my shirt off, as did Janey. She
smiled at me as I slowly appreciated her sweat-soaked
sports bra that fit snuggly around her firm chest. She
was openly appreciating my bare chest, as well. I keep
in shape, but it was still nice to be admired by
someone that young and firm.

We were leaning on our shovels, resting, waiting for
Grumpy to get a move on, when the rebellion started. It
had been apparent that Sally wasn't keeping up and now
she wasn't working at all. Her gloves were off, and she
was staring at us defiantly. Staring at me, anyway.

"Are you going to finish those, Sally? We're about done

"Are you going to make me? Why the fuck are we doing
this, anyway? If you're done, you can do these. I'm
tired. I want to go home."

"Sally, just because I'm in charge today doesn't mean
you can act like a little kid. That was last week. This
week we're doing something different, OK?"

"Screw you, Mister 'I'm-in-charge.' I wanted to stay in
bed and make love today, but, nooooo, you had to be in
charge. Well, I don't like it, and you can't make me.
I'm horny, I'm angry, I'm tired. Three strikes and I'm
out of here."

She stood there, daring me to do something. So I did.

I walked over to her smiling, and took her into my
arms, hugging her. She gave a little sob and grabbed me
around my waist. I turned her by the shoulder and
walked her a ways away from where we were standing over
to the stacks of filled sandbags. We stood there,
facing into the canyon, listening to the quiet. I
didn't know what to say. I was pissed, but I waited
until my anger was under control.

I tugged her around in front of me, so that we were
both facing the same way, her back nestled into my
front. Spooning, standing up. I slowly began a major
campaign on her breasts, building gradually, squeezing
and pinching, to good effect. When my hands undid her
Levi's there was no resistance left in her. She didn't
even look around for Janey.

As soon as her white cotton panties cleared her hips I
bent her forward over the sandbags. Her boots left the
ground by a couple of inches and I stripped the pants
down over the boots, but not off. That would take too
much time. After grabbing and simply ripping her
panties off, I moved her feet as far apart as I could
and then gave them purchase on the lower tier of bags.

I lowered my zipper and released my swollen cock from
confinement. I dipped it in the slit of her cunt,
teasing her. Seriously, I had no intention of going
that route after her insolent behavior. Her tight
little asshole was just looking at me, begging for some
attention. Besides, the little devices the Rosen's had
implanted around it should have been loaded with the
sexual enhancer by now.

Without warning, I aimed and pressed home the head of
my cock.

"NOOONOOOONOOOO. Larry, please, not there. OH GOD, It's
too big, I'm not ready. OHH Larry
OOOOOEEEEEIIIIiiSSHHIITT. What's happening to me?
OHHHHh yyyeesss!"

I figured the little suckers that had been implanted at
the clinic had just kicked in. Thank you, Drs. Rosen.
Sally clamped her anal sphincter down hard on my cock
and nearly snapped it off. It took lot of effort, on
both our parts, but I finally buried the full length of
my shaft in her rear canal. She screamed like a banshee
each time she felt my heart beat. She could feel the
pulse in her tightly stretched anal ring, and just that
small amount of added pressure pumped a little more of
the sexual enhancer into her system. She just kept
going higher and higher and higher. There was no limit
to the altitude on this rocket, and the first stage
still had a lot of fuel to burn.

It was one of the noisiest fucks we had ever had. Part
way through, Janey came up behind me and reached around
me to hold my chest, her chest against by bare back.
Every time her mother would climax, she would dig her
fingernails into my pectoral muscles. Since Sally came
nearly every time the pressure on the anal sphincter
changed, I was a mass of scratches by the time we were
finished. Janey's hand wandered down to where I joined
her mother. I don't know if she was aware I had taken
Sally anally or not, but as she felt the juncture and
realized the port of entry was farther south than she
was expecting, I heard her suck in her breath.

I slowly moved my body forward, driving myself back
into the dark recesses of that clasping hole. Janey's
hand was trapped between our sweating bodies. I stayed
buried until I felt her hand leave my body and venture
to Sally's. Her fingers moved lightly over the vacant
cunt and finally found her mother's center. Janey
caressed the excitable button to its fullest height and
then flicked it incessantly with her agile fingers
while I plowed the back forty. Together we gave Sally
the orgasmic experience of her life to that moment.

I felt a small hand cup my balls from behind and gently
massage them. A slight push, and a thumb penetrated my
own asshole. I had done this before and knew what was
coming. I started spewing my seed deep into Sally as
the thumb fucked my ass and pressed on my prostate.

When my cock lost its stiffness, I pulled out of Sally
with a slight sucking sound. I cleaned her up with her
torn panties, and handed them to Janey to wipe her
hand. Then I wiped myself off and zipped up. While we
waited for Sally to come back to us, Janey took a towel
and went to a nearby stream for some water.

When Sally did move, she pulled her pants up sans
panties, tucked her shirt in and turned around. She
kept her head bowed and kind of leaned into my
scratched chest. When she spoke, there was a tinge of
awe in her hurt voice.

"Was that you? Did you make me cum like that? What's
happening to me? It's never been like that before!"

I held her tight. As much as I wanted to take the
credit, I said, "I think you can thank the Rosen Clinic
for that."

"Janey too?"


"God, when she discovers how good it is up the ass,
we'll never have grandchildren."

She then turned to go, but stopped. "Larry? About what
happened just now? The sex was great, and I deserved to
get it up the ass the way I was behaving and all, but,
well, it still hurt me in here." She pointed to her
chest. "I don't like to feel like that."

I knew what she meant. Something had come between us,
but I didn't know what it was, or what to do about it,
but it was there and it was serious. Keeping her head
bowed, she turned and went back to work on her sacks,
completing them in short order.

I stacked up the sacks to form a protective barrier for
anyone standing behind it. I got a large wooden box
from the Jeep and set it on top of the barrier. From
the box I took two smaller, polished wooden boxes and
placed one in front of each of them.

Curiosity finally got to them and they opened the
beautiful mahogany boxes to reveal compact, but lethal
9mm pistols. We went through a very thorough course on
gun handling, gun safety, loading, aiming, carrying,
and so on. There wasn't a live round to be found in any
of the supplies in front of them, however. I was taking
no chances.

They were good students. When I was convinced they were
ready, which was long after they thought they were, I
got another box from the Jeep and produced safety
goggles and ear protectors. Then we loaded the guns one
at a time with real bullets. One would shoot, the other
would watch. Then they would switch. There was only one
gun loaded at a time, and it was always pointed down

A 9mm is normally a big gun for a woman, but I thought
they could handle it. Both had excellent hand and arm
strength. The particular model I selected is downsized
in the grip, and had been designed to be used as a
backup weapon for cops. It was light and sturdy. If
they ever needed to use it, the 8 rounds it carried
were going to be enough.

For the finale of the morning, I produced two man-
shaped targets and said the winner got their choice of
seats for the event of the afternoon. Janey turned out
to be the better marksman. At first, she objected to
shooting at silhouettes of human figures. Sally held up
her hand to stop her from shooting, walked down to the
target, and in big lipstick letters, wrote 'Steven'
across the figure.

I was shocked at what she had done. Janey just got
quiet, as she realized, suddenly, just how serious this
was. Her next 8 shots tore the crotch out of the
target. Everything after that landed in the chest. I
made a mental note not to get her angry with me. When
she was mad, she was cold-blooded and an excellent
shot. I wondered if I should have armed them at all.

On the next target, Sally was hitting very close to her
daughter's score, and with a couple of good shots on
the two remaining rounds, could win. Janey held up her
hand to stop the shooting, went down to the target and
scrawled 'Larry' on the silhouette and drew an
oversized phallus at the crotch. She proudly strutted
back, thinking she had shaken her mother and that she
would retain the highest score.

Sally stared at the target for the longest time, and
then slowly laid her gun on the sacks, conceding
defeat, an unfamiliar sad and hurt look in her eye.

It was an uneasy moment for all of us. Sometimes it
just doesn't pay to win.

Chapter 21

"AND THE WINNER IS... JANEY!" I announced, holding up
her arm in the air like a prizefighter. "And as your
prize, my dear, which seat would you like, front or

"Front!" she beamed.

I looked over at Sally, who was watching the victory
celebration with a sadly amused look. I caught her eye
as she glanced at me, and in the instant before she
lowered them back down, I thought I saw fear, or maybe
hurt, in them. It was the only time I saw her look up
in my presence for the remainder of the day. It
disturbed me, deeply.

I spread a blanket in the shade of a stately old oak
tree and an early lunch was served. Janey and I sat.
For some reason, Sally preferred to stand. I didn't
force the issue and it wasn't mentioned. We were all
ravenous after the work we had done that morning and
were still hungry when the sandwiches, chicken, chips
and fruit were gone. Reaching into the bottomless
basket, I pulled out three huge slabs of moist
chocolate cake and a thermos of ice cold milk. For
being health nuts, the calorie-laden cake disappeared
very quickly and without one complaint. It was
beginning to look like it might just be a good day,
after all. I hoped.

When we got back to the house, showers were in order.
Sally and I took one together, and, although playful,
she was still subdued. I did my best to lighten her
mood, and I was very concerned I might have injured her
when I had taken her so forcefully in the woods. She
insisted that she was not hurt, that she was tough
enough to take whatever I could hand out, even to the
point of offering to let me ass-fuck her again - her
words, unfortunately - right then and there in the
shower. I passed on the offer. I held her close to me
until we ran out of hot water. I don't think it
helped, but I didn't know what else to do.

The next phase of the day was initiated as I delivered
another package to each of the girls containing a skin-
tight Lycra bicycle body suit. Janey's was red,
Sally's green. I waited for them at the door, and
whistled very appreciably at their appearance. The
lush bodies of my girls were highlighted to perfection,
from the tight cheeks of their asses to the firm flesh
of their tits. Even the slits of their pussies could
be seen through the material.

To their visible disappointment, I handed each of them
another pile of clothing containing a pair of nylon
shorts and a baggy shirt. Their luscious bodies were
to be well covered on this day. Shoes, helmet and a
fanny pack completed the ensemble. Their freshly
cleaned and loaded pistols were in the fanny packs.

I drove about an hour to a town on the shore. It was a
quaint village that hadn't quite been hit by the hordes
of vacationers yet. We rented a bicycle built for
three at a local rental shop and I intended to spend a
leisurely couple of hours riding up and down the
boardwalk getting some fresh air and sunshine. It was
a beautiful day and the sand, sun and salt air off the
ocean combined in an invigorating way. I felt we could
ride forever.

Janey had control of the handlebars that controlled the
front wheel and so we went wherever she wanted. We
rode by several of the ubiquitous male `hunks' that
were walking, working out or sunning themselves on the
beach. We never stopped to meet any of them, but Janey
steered us by a couple of them several times so she
could get a real good look at them. Or, perhaps it was
vice versa. I noticed she didn't seem to have a
particular `taste' in body type, hair coloring or other
physical feature. Unless visibly bulging crotches in a
tight Speedo can be considered a `taste.' It wasn't
necessarily one of mine, anyway.

There was no rigid schedule to keep as there had been
last week, and the afternoon was simply a relaxing time
together. The view from my position in the back seat
was outstanding. For the beginning of the trip
traveling away from the parking lot and the car, the
ride was pretty mundane; circuitous, but mundane.
Then, on the way back to the rental shop, Janey
misjudged a pothole, and hit it pretty hard. The
jarring force of the front wheel hitting the rough edge
of the pavement jammed the seat of the bike up into her
crotch. It hit her with enough applied force on the
implanted vaginal and anal devices to release some of
the sexual enhancer into her system. Sally and I found
ourselves in the helpless situation where a girl in the
throes of a totally unexpected orgasm was suddenly
steering us along a winding pathway, or attempting to,
anyway. Janey had no hope of maintaining headway or
her balance and we tumbled in a tangle of arms, legs
and bicycle into the nearest dune.

Sally moved over to Janey, holding her tight until her
raging orgasm passed, and she lay still, breathing
deeply as if winded from a hard workout.

"Mom, what was that? Geeze, I mean, I know what it
was. But what the Hell just happened to me?"

"Oh, Sweetheart, I think you can thank your dear ol'
Dad for that. Just his way of saying `I love you,' I
guess. If you don't want it, I'll make him take it
back." I could tell she meant it.

"Oh, no! It was nice, ya' know, real nice. Just,
well, a surprise, that's all."

"Mine was a surprise to me, too, Honey. This morning.
A big surprise."

"Oh! So that's your bottom..." Janey turned
her face to her mother's and lowered her voice to
almost a whisper. "Do you like it in, well, back
there, Mom?"

"That's kind of a personal question, don't you think?
Let's get on back to the car, OK?" I think that was
the first time ever that Sally had avoided answering
Janey when she asked a question about sex. It made me
wonder just how big an error I had made that morning
when she now wouldn't answer, or couldn't answer Janey
truthfully. I knew she liked it up the ass. Something
was seriously wrong.

It was a rough and bumpy ride back to the bike shop.
Janey seemed to manage to hit every bump and pothole in
the path, circling around to hit the good ones a couple
of times. The `hunks' with their bulging Speedo suits
were forgotten as she bounced her way to giggling
orgasm after orgasm riding a bike in broad daylight.
Both women were riding high on the sexual rushes they
were having, leaving me to do most to peddling, and, as
the route was quite circuitous, it took a lot more time
to get back than it normally would have. But we made

Janey drove back to the house, again doing a good job.
She and I had been out several times during the week to
give her additional practice driving. She drove
through the heavy downtown traffic with assurance,
always leaving good safety margins between her and the
cars in front.

We arrived home just as a large van pulled away. The
driver gave me a cheerful wave as she drove by.
Apparently everything had gone according to plan and
the arrangements for the evening were in place. I
smiled innocently at Janey's questioning look and she
got an excited smile on her face, anticipating another
surprise for the evening. I turned to watch Sally
reading the logo on the side of the van and shake her
head knowingly. She'd recognized the driver and the
van. There was a little grin tugging at the corners of
her mouth, but the sadness in her eyes was still there.

At the door, I stepped between them and held my hands
lightly over their eyes. "Eyes closed please, ladies,
until I say to open them."

They dutifully closed them and made the obligatory
attempts to peek to see what was going on. I led them
sightless, or nearly so, to a room on the second floor
in the back of the house. It was a room that we seldom

"OK, you can open your eyes." They looked around.
There were pillows scattered on the floor arranged
around a large Persian rug. The walls were covered
with draperies of sheer material in pastel colors and
the windows were covered with thick tapestries. It
really did look like something from Arabian Nights, and
I was smugly pleased with the results.

"I wondered what Cece was doing here," Sally said. "I
didn't remember her calling to say she was coming

"You know Cecilia Washington?" I asked carefully. More
of Sally's undisclosed past was coming out, but this
was just too coincidental that she would know the new
wife of my best friend.

"Sure! She was my roommate in college for the year and
a half I was there. Why?"

Oh, Shit! "Oh, nothing. It's just that, well, Mac and
I are good friends, too. I just wondered how come it
never came up before."

Sally didn't answer, but had what I refer to as her
`Mona Lisa' smile on her face; totally unreadable, but
promising depths of intrigue and mystery that would
drown any man who ventured in unawares. I let it drop.

Mac's new wife, Cecilia, ran a catering service that
specialized in arranging quality theme parties and
dinners. I had never met her and, when I had
approached her through Mac about this project, she had
accepted the challenge immediately, even on short
notice for such a small group. Now I knew why. I
wondered just how much of a surprise this really was
for Sally. This Arabian Night style theme had been a
new one for Cece's business, but she had attacked it
with enthusiasm. I could tell Sally and Janey were
impressed, as was I.

In the corner of the room was a tent flap that covered
the door to an adjoining room. I urged them through.

"Your attire for the evening is in the other room. I
am not allowed to go in there, as that room is reserved
for women only. And eunuchs, one of which I will
refrain from becoming for the time being."

They laughed. Thank goodness.

"We are entertaining special guests this evening. You
may not leave that room until our guests arrive. I
expect you both to be on your best behavior, and to
follow the example of one of the guests who will be
here to help you and to explain your duties for this

They looked intrigued, but confused. I simply put my
hands together in front of me, bowed, and said, "Go
with God," in my best Yul Brenner impression.

I heard their squeals of excitement as they explored
the room next door and found their costumes for the
evening. Satisfied that they were happy, I went to
check on the food. I heard the shower in their room
start up. I had just enough time to clean up myself
before Amud and his wife arrived.

At seven o'clock sharp the doorbell rang. When I
opened it, I saw Amud in a very impressive - and
expensive - Western style business suit and a
diminutive figure standing quietly behind him covered
in cloth from head to toe. Without a word to them, I
bowed and swept my hand back to usher them into the
house. Still not speaking, I turned and led the way to
the room where Sally and Janey waited. I pointed,
showing Amud where to send his wife. He spoke briefly
with her and she entered the room.

I then led him to the back room with the rug and
pillows and spoke to him for the first time. "Amud, my
friend, welcome to my tent. Come in, rest and wash the
sand from your feet." I spoke to him in his own
tongue, giving him a traditional greeting. In my
research, I had learned I had two choices of greeting
guests to my home, depending on my familiarity with the
guest. One greeting used the word `sand,' the other
the word `camel shit.' Since this was his first visit,
I figured I should go easy on the familiarity.

Amud smiled broadly, and gave the traditional reply,
which, loosely translated means, `If there's water left
after my camels drink, I'll wash my feet.' He
respected the level of familiarity I had set and did
not add the ending, `Then my wives can drink what's
left.' He entered my `tent' and sat in the place of

"Would you like a drink, Amud?" thinking he would
prefer tea or coffee or water. Or a soft drink,

"Scotch, neat. Thank you."

I looked at him perplexed. All the preparations we had
discussed had stipulated that no alcohol and that
certain animals and animal by-products were not to be
used in the preparation of the meal. Now he asked for
Scotch? I couldn't figure it out, so I asked him if he
would mind explaining.

"Oh, yes. In our beliefs and in our practices, we must
be pure. But the religious leaders recognize that for
certain cultural and business situations with non-
believers, we must be allowed some latitude in these
restrictions. For those times when we knowingly
consume forbidden food or drink, we can pay a penance
and be purified. But if we consume them unknowingly,
we will die impure."

I didn't follow his logic, exactly, if one can call any
religion logical. It sounded like a religious
moneymaking scam if I ever heard one. But, a man must
follow his beliefs or else be a hypocrite. Better an
earnest fool than a hypocrite. I got him a Scotch, and
had one myself.

We discussed a broad range of topics, from his business
and mine to the novel - to him, anyway - customs of
Americans that he found somewhat perplexing. I learned
that he was university-educated at Oxford, but that his
love of hides and skins, as well as his talent for
working with them, had led him to open the tack shop.
His amusement at Americans' repressed fascination with
the relationship between leather and sex was surpassed
only by the amusement he found at the amount of money
they would pay for common everyday leather items; with
slight modifications, of course.

During the course of our conversation, we were served a
variety of foods, some traditional, some not. Three
lovely ladies brought out the food on silver trays.
All the ladies were veiled. The only skin visible was
around their eyes, hands and their bare feet, yet they
never seemed so seductive. The veils and gauze-like
material that clothed them hinted more than it showed.
Dark shadows on the bodices gave a promise of breasts and nipples, but the loose fitting material resisted
all attempts to ascertain shapes and sizes. Even
though I was familiar with two of the three serving
wenches, the diaphanous covering clouded their familiar
lines, adding a sense of the unknown or unexpected to
the evening.

It was on Sally's second time as a server that Amud
began to watch her with intent interest. I noticed he
continued to watch her every time she served, but he
didn't speak to me about it, although he seemed on the
verge of saying something each time she left the room.

At the end of the serving time, music began to play.
Amud settled back on his pillow, a cup of thick sweet
coffee in his hands. With a `ting-ting,' the curtains
parted and a willowy figure entered our enclosure.
Amud's wife danced to the center of the room and did a
fascinating traditional dance that promised everything
and revealed nothing. It ended with her bowing before
Amud as if in supplication. He looked puzzled.

"My apologies, Mr. Sampson, my rude wife wishes to
interrupt our peace."

"Please, Amud. No apologies necessary. Please go

There followed a quick conversation between them,
ending with Amud lifting her hand, turning it over and
kissing her palm. I thought I saw his wife blush at
this intimate gesture in a stranger's house. Amud
continued to look thoughtful as the dancer gracefully
rose and glided from the room.

He produced from an inner pocket a cigar case - another
forbidden item - and offered me a fine Cuban cigar.

"These Cubans are not only forbidden to me, they are
forbidden to you. Mine is religious, yours is foolish.
As they are illegal in this country, shall we burn the

"Yes, we probably should," I responded with mock
seriousness. "But slowly, no?"

As we were enjoying the rare treat, he seemed like he
wanted to say something, but didn't know how to begin.

"Amud, you look troubled. Is there something you wish
to say to me?"

"Mr. Sampson... Lawrence... My friend... It is hard
for me to speak to you in your house of these things,
but it is harder to see these things and not speak of
them to friends. Please do not take offense at what I
say. It is not my wish to bring criticism into your

I nodded, and indicated for him to continue. I hadn't
the foggiest idea what he was talking about.

"My beloved and I have sensed you have begun to
practice those things we spoke of last week; those
things between men and women and their places in the
tent; those things which concern the heart and soul of
the woman, and the pride of the man. But what I sense
is that the acts you committed have disturbed the peace
in your tent. You have acted rashly, as a stupid man,
one with no sense of his power or his place. A
powerful man is foolish to use his might on the weak.
No good can come of it. I do not know what you have
done, Lawrence. It does not matter. I also cannot
tell you how to fix it. But I can tell you that you
must repair the breach with your love, the mother of
the Fresh one, or peace will never return to this tent.
The Happy one, although calm on the outside, is no
longer filled with the joy you bring to her. In your
harshness, you have taken from her, and not given. She
now fears for the joy and peace in the tent. That is
not her position, not her task. That is the task of
the master.

"Lawrence, my friend, in some way I feel responsible.
I told you of a wonderful place but not the path to
follow to get there. If you had taken no steps along
that path, you would have nothing to undo. But having
taken a step, even a small one, along this path, you
must now continue. But to lead your beloved down that
path, one must be familiar with the path himself and
know the destination. You must experience the path
yourself, first, my friend. Otherwise you will become
a cruel master and your time in this tent will be short
and painful."

With that ominous prediction, he stood, clapped his
hands and left. His wife followed him obediently out
of the room, leaving me sitting alone in the large

The silence was deafening.

Chapter 22

I heard the front door close behind them and their limo
pull away. I was still sitting there when Janey and
Sally came in to say `Good night.' I sat there all
through the night and into the next day.

Sally brought me breakfast, set the tray down, and left
in silence. She picked it up later, the food
untouched. She looked at me strangely, but didn't say
a word. Lunch was the same way. Janey brought me
dinner. She force-fed me a bite or two, but that was
all I could eat. I felt their concern for me, but it
was as if I was hovering above my body, watching a dull
soap opera.

I had really screwed up. Big time. I had kind of
figured out what it was, but I didn't have a clue why.
I knew the relationship between Sally and me was
evolving, changing and that there were going to be
strains and stresses as we re-defined our respective
roles within the new paradigm. Maybe it was going a
bit faster than we were both willing to accept. I knew
I had been unprepared for the responsibilities of my
role, which I still didn't have a label for. I think
that's what Amud had been talking about. I wasn't
prepared. I hadn't been down `the path', as he called

I spent a long time agonizing over what to do. The
ball was definitely in my court. On the one hand,
Sally had made it clear that she could accept it if I
could not bring myself to put her in bondage, and not
to be her `Master.' But could I live with knowing that
the woman I loved was being refused the thing that
totally fulfilled her? I had seen, felt and
experienced the explosive climax she'd had when I had
tied her hands with the belt of her robe that one time.
I had seen the basement and the evidence of her need
for this.

The question was, how could I do something to her -
safely - that I had never experienced? I had
absolutely no desire to experience it! How would I
know the limits? In fact, there was a gripping terror
in me when I thought about experiencing bondage myself.
Even worse was the thought of experiencing pain. I
hate pain. So I brooded, trying to find a way out of
the mess I had gotten myself, and us, into.

By late Wednesday night I came to a decision. Right or
wrong, it was what I was going to do. At least it was
doing something. I never was one to let life make my
decisions for me. If something was going to go wrong,
I wanted to be the one to screw it up. Go out with a
bang, and the bigger the better.

I went into the bedroom I shared with Sally. She was
still up. She watched in silence as I packed an
overnight bag.

"I've missed you," was all she said.

I gently kissed her forehead, wiped the tears from her

"I know. Me, too."

I hesitated, almost changing my mind. She was so
beautiful and alluring. My body wanted to slip into
the bed beside her and make gentle love to her. But my
mind could not ignore the fact that there were some
issues that we, no, that I had to resolve. I forced
myself to keep packing.

"Look, I have to do something, but I'll be back
tomorrow afternoon. We'll talk then - if you want to.
I promise." I looked at her sitting there. "I love
you. I want you to know that."

"I know. I love you, too. We'll talk tomorrow. I'll
be waiting."

I left and drove to a motel near the Rosen Clinic.
Thursday I underwent Dr. Wang's procedure on my wang
and drove home. It really was painless, although I
felt as if something was different.

During the hour-long surgical procedure tiny emitters
were implanted in and around my penis and groin. A
couple more were slipped just under my scalp at pre-
determined locations over the parts of the brain that
were pleasure centers. The end result was that by
merely thinking about something erotic, I could bring
my prick to an erection. It was all done with such
small amounts of electricity that the devices were able
to use from the bio-electrical discharges inside my
body. It was a neat, self-sustaining system.

One of the more surprising features of the procedure
was that I could control when sperm were included in my
ejaculate; a kind of variable vasectomy. That was one
less worry where Janey was concerned. I was still
undecided about actually fucking her, but if I did, I
sure as hell didn't want a teenage pregnancy to
completely ruin her life.

It took about three hours for them to go through all
the features and for me to practice them. When I was
satisfied that I could control myself, I left them with
my sincere thanks and the news that Dr. Wang's
paperwork was already being processed. He could expect
an answer within seven working days. I had sent his
and his daughter's papers to Judge Hawthorne's office
last week for processing. Dr. Wang looked at me in
disbelief, then to Dr. Rosen. She simply beamed at him
and nodded in confirmation. He was hugging his
daughter and they were weeping for joy when I left.

Sally was waiting for me when I got home. She met me
at the door, but instead of greeting me with a kiss,
she knelt before me as a servant. My heart hurt at her
subservience. Not that she gave it, but that I wasn't
worthy of receiving it from her.

That point was at the center of the issue was between
us. She loved me, I loved her. That was not in
question. She had submitted to me. She needed to be
totally committed. She needed me to be totally
committed, as well. We both knew I wasn't, and thus
there was still an element of fear in her submission.
She was not afraid that I would intentionally harm her.
She knew that if I ever did harm her physically, I
would curl up and die of shame and guilt. What she
feared was that I would hurt her unintentionally, and
not just physically. That was because in terms of what
we were entering into, I was just plain stupid and
ignorant. I had no idea of her limits. I didn't know
the path, as Amud called it, or where it went or why.

I was determined to change that. I had to take away
her fear - and my own terror, as well. To do that, I
had to `experience the path' myself, as Amud had said.
It had taken me a long time to figure out what he
meant. I may be slow, but I get there eventually. It
took even longer to admit to myself that I could do
what he meant. But I think I had always known what I
would have to do and that, eventually, I would do it.
My own fears held me back, almost to the point of
losing Sally. But it was what I had to do, terror or

I knelt down beside Sally right there in the hallway by
the front door. I took her hand and turned it palm up.
I kissed it lovingly, knowing it would soon be causing
me much pain. Then I placed the key to the dungeon in
her hand. She closed her fist around it slowly. I
think she thought I was rejecting that side of her,
that I was closing that door.

Without a word to her, I put my wrists together in
front me and presented them to her as if for binding.
I bowed all the way down in front of her, my head to
the ground. I stayed that way for a long time. I
intended to stay that way until she released me.

I heard her gasp as she realized what I was doing. To
her credit, she did not question if I was crazy. I
would have had to say that I probably was at that exact
moment. I heard her get up and leave, going down to
the dungeon. After a time, she returned.

"I have to ask. Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes." I could barely talk for fear.

"Do you want a safeword?"

She had told me all about safewords, those escape
clauses for submissives who weren't really sure of
their Master or Mistress. Sally had never asked for
one before she subjected herself to me, even with her
fears. She'd had one with Gary, but he never honored

"No. You'll know."

"You realize this may take some time." She bent and
slipped a hood over my head. The only openings were
for my nostrils and a zipper over my mouth. I was
blind and deaf when wearing the hood. She laced it
tightly behind my head, pulling the thick leather
smooth and tight around my head. I heard a bit of
static, then a "click" and her voice, tinny from the
small speakers, was in my ears.

"Stand and strip."

I struggled to my feet, slightly disoriented by the
hood. Pins and needles shot though my legs as the
blood flow was re-established. I had been on my knees
a long time. I had not groveled that much lately and
wasn't used to the position. I took off my clothes and
dropped them on the floor. I stood before her naked
when I finished. I didn't know what to do with my
hands and they kind of flopped around, very much like
the limpness I was experiencing in another part of my

"What am I supposed to do, pick up after you? Fold
them neatly!" I felt a sudden horrendous pain in my
left buttock emphasized this last command. It was my
first taste of what was to come and it was biting and
bitter. I almost shit, but I was afraid I would have
had to clean that up, too.

I jumped and hopped around trying to avoid any more
blows. The zippered hood muffled the yelp I let out,
but it was still loud in my ears. When the pain
subsided, I bent to pick up my clothes. This was no
easy task, as I had moved when I jumped around. My
clothes were no longer in my immediate vicinity. I had
to get down on my hands and knees and do a grid search
of the hallway before I found the last sock. I suspect
she was moving some of the clothes around, keeping them
from me, as I would swear I had twice searched the area
where I finally found the last piece hiding.
Regardless, I retrieved them all and was able to place
a neatly folded bundle before her feet. Or where I
imagined her feet were.


I stood.

I felt a strap being placed around my penis, down by
the base. It looped once between my penis and scrotum,
then again behind my sac. A last strap bisected my sac
in two, one nut on each side. Then the whole thing was
tightened until I thought my balls would burst. I felt
a click of metal on metal and then a firm tug on my
balls, urging me forward. I nearly fell over.

"If you want to keep them attached, you had better
learn to follow when I tug on your leash." A harder
tug followed, and so did I, quickly, if a bit

We descended into the basement. I assumed we were
headed for the dungeon. I was correct.

I felt my wrists wrapped tightly with what felt like
stiff leather cuffs. Then they were lifted over my
head. I strained, standing on my toes to keep in touch
with the ground for as long as possible before I lost
even that touch. I felt her push against one side of
me and my equilibrium went haywire. I was spinning
with no points of reference. Vertigo set in quickly
and I was totally disoriented. I vomited in the helmet
and the fluid ran down between the mask and my face,
dripping down my chest. The smell was awful.

An icy cold torrent of water beat against my body. She
must have had a fire hose installed down there, there
was so much water. She focused on my head and chest,
rinsing away the vomit. I was torn between being
thankful for the smell being gone and the terror of
drowning in the hood. I learned how to drink through
my nose, something I would not suggest to anyone.

Then nothing happened. I mean it. She must have left
the room. I just hung there by my wrists. I didn't
know if I was still spinning or not. I also had no
recollection of time, other than my heartbeat. Under
normal circumstances, I could estimate time by my
regular resting pulse. I had always maintained a
resting pulse of about 60. But these were not normal
circumstances and my heart rate seemed faster than
normal. I had no way of telling how long I hung there.

More time must have passed than I thought. The water I
had ingested had worked its way through my system and
was now ready to exit. I had to piss, but I couldn't.
Call it pride, stubbornness or whatever I didn't want
to urinate when I couldn't see where it was going. I
don't think psychologists have ever figured out that
peculiar fascination a man has with watching himself
pee. It stays with a man from the time he is a little
boy. Maybe it has to do with being able to write his
name in the snow. I don't know. I just know I didn't
want to let go while I was blinded. I focused on
blocking out the urgent messages I was receiving from
my bladder.

The first savage pain hit just below the back of my
neck. It was a thin fiery strip of heat that stretched
from one shoulder to the other. One end of the painful
strip of fire curled into my armpit, as my arms were
held over my head. The following blows descended
slowly down my back, each one slightly lower than the
previous one. I fought the pain, resisted giving in to
it. I hated the pain, the whip. I began screaming
when the first blows landed on the backs of my thighs.
The pains continued. Not even the soles of my feet
were spared that painful lash.

I had been hanging for so long that I didn't even try
to move my feet or kick to avoid the lash. Moving
caused more pain in my shoulders, arms and wrists than
the whipping did so I just hung there, screaming.

The pain on the front parts of my feet, across the tops
of my toes alerted me to the beginning of the next
round. My screams raised several decibels in volume
and, as the lash curled around my tender testicles,
rose several octaves in sheer panic. No part of me was
spared the lash. I was sobbing uncontrollably when it
stopped, the pain in my groin agonizing, excruciating.

At some point I had voided, soiling myself, the yellow
fluid and stinky solids streaming down my legs and
pooling below me. I could smell the acrid human smell
of urine and shit even through the hood. It smelled
like fear.

I was not broken or submissive. I was mad. My anger
was palpable. I roared into the hood; into the
stillness of the dungeon; to myself. Sally had left me
alone again, hanging over my own pile of shit.

I don't know when I awoke. I didn't remember falling
asleep. I couldn't get my bearings at first, didn't
remember where I was. The sudden burst of fresh pain
broke through the haze of sleep shrouding my brain.
Pain came in multiple points, many stripes at once. I
could feel the thuds of the knots on the ends of the
straps solidly landing on my back and sides, sometimes
wrapping clear around and impacting my chest. I
screamed. And I voided myself again. I fought the
pain and humiliation. The agony grew in my back and in
my spirit as the blows continued relentlessly.

I must have passed out when the lashes curled around my
hip and the hard knots at the ends of the braided
strands hit my unprotected, harnessed cock. I remember
having a clear premonition of disaster as I felt the
pain in one ass cheek but not the other and then I
remember a split second when I thought that I would
die, hanging there in a basement. Then - then...there
was nothing.

When I came to, I was lying on my back on a hard
surface. My hands were stretched out straight over my
head, which was still hooded. My ankles were now
cuffed and my legs were pulled straight out and held
slightly apart. Something narrow and hard that felt
like a two-by-four on edge was jammed under my butt,
raising my pelvis above the plane of my body. That
made my groin, and my bound cock and balls, the high

What was confusing was that what I was feeling at that
moment were the soothing hands of my lover moving over
my aching body, tracing the angry red lines that I
could only imagine were criss-crossing my skin. I felt
moisture then coolness as the water evaporated. I
responded to the soft caresses and my erection became
the prominent point, lofting high and proud. What a
foolish, vain and predictable organ. The constraining
straps around the base of my cock tightened due to the
expanding size as a result of the influx of blood into
that area. The constriction increased to the point
where the outflow was constrained more than the inflow.
I would now have a permanent hard-on until the straps
were loosened.

"Cum for me. Now!" My lover's voice was with me in my
darkness, a tinny voice in my ears.

I tried. Even with Dr. Wang's improvements, I couldn't
do it. I was still fighting the bondage. I couldn't
find the path.

I felt the surface I was lying on begin vibrate. The
tension in my arms and legs increased. I was slowly
being stretched out. She had me on a rack. Never
again would I underestimate the effectiveness of
medieval torture techniques. An added twist of a lever
or wheel elevated my pelvis area more, bowing me
completely off the table with only a single contact
point under my hips. I felt as if I would break if I
were forced to bend backwards any more.

I was whipped on the frontal parts of by body from the
tips of my toes to the tips of my fingers. Special
attention was paid to my hands and arms, as they had
been too high for Sally to reach when I was hanging by
my wrists. Even my shielded face received several
terrifying blows. Then I was left alone again.

I was beginning to hate being alone. Even to the point
of looking forward to the pain, strange as that sounds.
At least then I wasn't alone. I began reaching out to
my tormenter in my mind. I knew, from my time with the
State Department, that this was a classic response of
kidnap and torture victims. What they hadn't told us
was how helpless the victims were to resist that
response. I had no choice but to try to curry the
favor of my tormentor. The depth of my visceral
response frightened me. I had to do it.

The tender touching was repeated, but this time I was
given water to drink through a straw before it started.
It was the first fluids I had had since I had been
hosed off. The zipper over my mouth was opened, and a
drop of water placed on my parched lips. I felt the
straw and I sucked in as much as I could, as fast as I
could. The first rush of cool water hit my stomach and
I vomited. The acid taste of bile stayed with me, even
after I was able to take in more water.

She hosed me off again, and then commanded me to cum again. When I couldn't, Sally moved away from me. The
pain when she whipped me on my wet skin was even worse
than before. I was unconscious when she stopped, but I
had lasted a long time before I lost my senses. Longer
than either of us expected me to, I would guess. I
could feel her frustrations at my resistance to the
pain, but I didn't know what to do to, how to help her.

It went like this without an apparent end. I was hung,
tied, bent, whipped, stretched and then left alone.
Then again. And then again. The pain and the
loneliness eventually became secondary to the terror
and the frustration I experienced when, at the
initiation of each session, I heard that same whispered
"Cum for me!" When I failed to please my Mistress, I
was beaten senseless. The command was given again at
the completion of each session, if I was still

When I was left alone, I continued the futile fight
against the pain and the bondage. I could not, would
not give into it. It was blackness and void. Terror.
Unknown. I sensed in it a danger of deathly
proportions. My very being, my spirit, the essence of
who I was in my head, would not give itself up to that
perceived evil that I sensed lurking in that darkness.
I would not break. I could not. I was more afraid of
that unknown than the pain.

I was delirious, too. I knew it. I was getting
desperate, as well. In the back of my mind, I knew
that if this did not work, I could and probably would
lose the most precious thing I had ever known. I would
lose the respect of Sally, if not Sally herself. In
desperation, I did the only thing I could think of.

I surrendered not to the darkness, but to the Will of
my Mistress. It was that simple. Why I hadn't thought
of it before is an indication of my ignorance, I guess.
Or how paralyzed I was by terror. Or how much of a
stubborn, prideful son-of-a-bitch I am. I couldn't
give in to the darkness, but my Mistress was light.
She was a guide into the unknown terror. With the last
desperate thoughts of my sane mind, I surrendered
myself to my Mistress.

I don't remember what happened after that, but Sally
said she knew something was different as soon as she
woke up from her catnap. I was resting peacefully in
one of the more uncomfortable positions she had bound
me into. I had stopped screaming, stopped fighting.
When she gave me the command to ejaculate, I did. I
don't remember. I was literally out of my mind.

I later learned that Sally had never me alone in the
dungeon. She or Janey were always there. I had
thought I had felt a different set of hands soothing
me, but I wasn't sure. Only one set used the whips and
caused me pain. But there had been two sets of hands
that soothed me.

I remember little after my surrender. I was just
there, floating. I know there was more bondage, more
pain. But it was what my lover, my Mistress wanted,
and I only hoped it gave her joy. That she wanted it
was the only reason I needed to accept that she was
giving it to me. I was hers totally. That time of
total abdication of my will to Hers was the most
peaceful time of my life that I can ever remember.

The last thing that happened, my final test, I guess, I
do remember. Very well. My hands were bound tightly
behind my back, my ankles and calves tied to my thighs
with my knees forced wide apart. I was forced to kneel
on the cold cement of the dungeon floor, which was
still damp from my last `bath'. I was tightly hooded,
as I had been throughout the ordeal. I could not see
or hear, but I could feel the footstep vibrations of
other people walking around me. I cringed inside,
beginning to fight the fear. But then I reached out
and found that Mistress was there. I don't know how,
but I could feel her, and I relaxed. What she wanted,
I wanted.

The zipper over my mouth was opened and I was offered a
drink. Then I felt something I had hoped to live my
entire life without feeling. The warm solid flesh of a
real cock was introduced to my mouth. It was a large
one with a broad circumcised head. I froze.

A soft gentle voice came to my ears, my Mistress. "Cum
for me, my love. Cum."

I blew my wad across the room and sucked the cock into
my mouth. All for my Mistress, because She willed it.
I was bobbing and sucking as best I could, trying to do
all the things that I thought would feel good to me.
For some reason, it was important to me that I do a
good job at this vile task, the very best I could. It
was as if the prestige of my Mistress was at stake. My
performance would be her grade. I did my best, but I
failed. The cock did not spew it's cum into my mouth.
As it slipped out of my mouth, I cried out to let me
try again, I would do better, I pleaded. Please....

A soft fingertip on my lips stilled my anguish and the
zipper was closed. I bent forward in shame, awaiting
my punishment for failing Her. My head rested on the
ground. I thought I knew what was coming, but I was
wrong. It wasn't the whip I felt on my ass. It was
the head of that stiff cock wet with my own saliva
being placed against the opening of my virgin ass. My
head jerked up off the ground, my back arching in
silent protest against this invasion. Gentle, soothing
hands spread my ass cheeks and a cool substance was
forced past the tightly clenched puckered ring.

I knew better than to resist, but to a completely
straight male, this was almost more than I could take.
I fought against this intrusion of my body by another
male's member with every fiber of my being. In my
current position, the only things I could move were my
fingers. I clenched and unclenched them in utter
frustration as the plumb-sized head of that solid
phallus slipped past the straining muscular ring.
Tears of frustration and humiliation filled the hood
covering my head.

Mistress lightly took hold of my clenching hands with
hers. I vented all my pain and frustration into that
touch. I cried out my terror and revulsion to this
homosexual act to her with my mind. She drew it all
out of me. But the penetration didn't stop. I
understood it was what She wanted. She knew that as
much as the pain and bondage had been hard for me to
accept from her, asking me to submit to this act was
the ultimate test for me. I almost couldn't do it. I
almost failed. I could still feel and taste the
strange slipperiness of the male pre-cum in my mouth.
It gagged me. And almost broke me.

I sensed the force of her gentle will surrounding me,
comforting me. I relaxed into it, releasing into her
the abject terror in my soul. I forced myself to
swallow the residual male fluids that were still in my
mouth. I forced myself to push back on that intrusive
shaft, opening myself up to this rape, this homosexual coupling. I pushed back willingly, if not joyfully to
meet the hard, frenzied thrusts until I felt the hot
flooding of my colon. I had not failed my Mistress
this time. I wept at the immense pleasure I felt at
pleasing Her.

"Cum for me my love. Cum."

And I came. For Her.

Chapter 23

I woke up in bed. I smelled hot coffee and bacon. I
was famished.

I stumbled getting out of bed, my legs not wanting to
support me. I didn't know how long I had been in the
dungeon, but it was long enough that my legs were not
used to supporting my weight. My arms, Hell, my whole
body ached, including my eyelids. Even the light
coming through the curtains hurt. I felt like shit.

I held on to the dresser until I was stable, then
slipped on my robe. I looked briefly at my body in the
mirror as I passed by. There were remarkably few marks
or bruises, given what I had been through, and what I
felt like. The marks around my wrists would last the
longest, I guessed. I grinned, realizing I was almost
disappointed there wasn't more visible damage. I was
definitely looking for the sympathy factor. Or was it
I was looking for them as badges of courage?

I made my way to the kitchen, noting in passing that
Janey's room was empty, the bed made. A sure sign she
was not at home. I found myself standing at the
kitchen door, uncertain of what was to happen now.
D‚j… vu, all over again.

Two place settings, two coffee cups, one mine. Fresh
squeezed OJ, red robe, tied extra tight. I knew what
that meant. Suddenly, I didn't ache quite as much.

I took her on the kitchen table, breakfast forgotten
for the time being. Our coupling was gentle and
vicious at the same time. We were at once equals to
each other and submissive to each other. It was a
contest to see who could bring the most pleasure to the
other. We both won.

I had to eat something, other than Sally, and wolfed
down an egg, some toast, bacon and washed it down with
OJ while Sally was recovering from her latest climax.
The coffee was cool by then, and we both downed a quick
cup before heading to the bedroom.



"How long?"

"Until I tell her I'm ready for her to come home."

"That bad, huh?"

"Shut up and make love to me."

I noticed she didn't say `Fuck me.' So I didn't. I
made love to my Love.

We called Janey home two days later.

That marked a major turning point in our relationship.
Right or wrong, what I had gone through had stilled the
fear that was growing in Sally. I had experienced the
path Amud had talked about. I would not lead her down
the wrong one, or take a wrong turn to a disastrous
destination. She knew now she could trust me
completely as I had trusted her.

She literally glowed in her happiness. Amazingly, over
time we found we could sense each other. Not in a
conscious sense, but at a certain subconscious level.
I learned to trust this sense to guide me in our times
together, and she experienced climaxes of an intensity
that surprised even her. As I became more adept at
sensing her needs, I could meet them better. Sally
would stagger around the house for days in a state of
bliss, simply from the knowledge that we would be
together that night, or whenever she needed me. Which
was often.

But as the time passed, she grew more and more anxious
as the much-anticipated start of her bondage sessions
didn't happen. I could sense in her a restlessness, a
palpable spring of longing. It was winding her up
tighter and tighter. But I still needed time to
understand the things I was sensing, to get used to the
things I was feeling. And to figure out what it was I
wanted to do with us. She had let me know in no
uncertain terms that what happened next was up to me
alone. Her complete and simple trust in me scared me
more than what I had just gone through.

I had always been pretty self-confident. I had been
described as handsome, rugged, charming, etc. I know I
never had problems attracting girls, and later, women
into my bed, at least up to the time I had met and
completely fallen for Sally. But even that was in
character for me. I always went after what I wanted,
and generally got it. Not by luck, but by skill and
determination. OK, some luck, and a lot of family connections, too.

But now? Even though I was scared shitless, now I
knew, or felt I knew what direction to take us. I
wasn't just confident. I was absolutely sure. And it
scared even more shit out of me. I remembered what had
happened when I had brutally taken Sally on the
shooting range. I had been sure then, too, and I had
hurt her spirit, if not her asshole.

So I took my time, feeling my way slowly through this
new experience. I practiced sensing her, then acting
on that information. I learned to trust myself, and
grew stronger as a result. I also found that that mind
control thing between us had grown. I discovered I was
stronger now, much stronger that Sally or Janey. Not
only that, but I found I could project it onto others
in a crude manner and affect their feelings. I was not
just a transmitter of my own feelings and a receiver of
other's emotions. I had control over what was sent
out. But it was like playing with Nitroglycerin while
riding a bucking bronco. Because my ability was so
powerful and unpredictable, I didn't play with it much.
I needed more help with that.

Other than that, things were getting down to normal.
Janey was settling into her summer routine. Time heals
all wounds, and as the time passed, she seemed to
forget. She seemed more at ease around the kids from
school, too, having them over on occasion for
cheerleading practice.

It was at one of these practices that I manage to
expose myself to the entire squad, and firmly re-
establish Janey as one of the most popular kids at
school, among the girls, anyway. Janey had been at
cheerleading practice at the high school gym, and, as
usual, Sally and I took advantage of the privacy to
make love. Not that Janey's presence ever held us
back. With their link, Janey was very much a part of
the sexual experience - when she was around. But it
was different, novel for Sally to do it alone, so we
took advantage of every opportunity.

Sally had drifted off into a light sleep after a
rigorous and satisfying bout. I got up to get a bottle
of wine for when she awoke, so we could continue the
session uninterrupted. I dashed into the family room
on my way to the kitchen. It wasn't until I was
completely into the center of the room that it
registered that there were several people, all young girls, all around me.

Gasps, silence. Then, one girl, a brave one, no doubt,
whispered into the reverent silence, "Wow, Janey! Your
Dad's big! I didn't know they got that long! Or
thick!" I don't think she was referring to my feet or
my nose.

Beet red, but what the Hell, "Hi, girls! Uh, Sally
and I weren't exactly expecting you here today.
Obviously. I just wanted to get some wine from the
kitchen. I'll just grab a bottle and, uh, leave you
alone." I started walking at what I thought a normal
pace would be for a naked man in a room full of excited
young girls towards the kitchen door, my erection
pointing the way. The girls weren't the only ones
excited at that moment.

"That's OK, Dad. I'll get it for you. Would you like
to stay here and chat with the girls, or should I bring
it to you in your room?"

I grinned, looking around at the mixture of awed,
confused, embarrassed and outright lustful expressions
on the faces in the room. "You'd better bring it into
the room. Before I do anything really, really
embarrassing. Thanks, honey."


"No prob. White or red?" She was enjoying my
predicament way too much.

"White. I'm red enough already!" I raised my hand to
tip an imaginary hat to the girls, gave a gallant bow
to them and walked proudly - and stiffly - out of the

Giggles and shouts of "chicken" and "please stay"
chased me down the hall, but fortunately none of the
girls did. Sally was surprised at my sudden ardor as
she was still asleep when I entered her. Then she
sensed Janey at home and heard the other girls' raucous
and bawdy laughter.

"Just what did you do, lover boy? Is there anything I
should know?"

"Oh, nothing. I just introduced myself to the girls on
the cheerleading squad."

"Oh, OK. Hey, wait a minute! Is that `myself' that's
poking into me right now?"

"Uh-huh. Really, it was an accident. Honest!"

"I'll bet, knowing how you like the young stuff. Shit.
Nobody called the cops?"

"Not yet. But the day is still young and Janey only
brought us one bottle. I may have to go back out there
for another. Would you like something to eat? I'm
starved! I'll just hop out and get..." I was cut off
as she lowered herself over my face.

"Chew on this, dear. I have all I want right here."
She gripped my cock firmly, letting me know what she
was referring to. I mumbled my muffled reply, deeply
content with my current situation.

Not surprisingly, that one bottle was enough.

About a week later Sally and I were relaxing in the hot
tub. It was just off our bedroom but Janey could get
to it by an outside door. Besides, the doors were
never closed and she could get to it through our room.
Janey had been surprisingly respectful of our privacy
lately, as if she understood that we needed the time to
learn our new roles.

Sally and I never used suits when we were by ourselves,
as we were then.

"Hi, guys! Mind if I join you?" Janey's voice came
through the lattice. I was surprised she asked.

"Not at all, come on in," said Sally.

"Hope you don't mind Mom, but I borrowed one of your
suits. Fits pretty good, don't you think?"

I partly opened one eye and looked up at this blinding
vision of loveliness pirouetting on the deck. I was
instantly hard. She had on `the suit.' Sally only
wore it now on special, very special occasions. It
never failed to get me hard when Sally wore it. And it
seemed to be having the same effect on me when Janey
wore it.

"Oh, dear." Sally said softly. Her hand immediately
went to my chest and slipped down to grasp the
periscope I had raised in celebration of the vision on
the deck. She slipped up out of the water briefly and
straddled my body, facing away from me. As she sat
back down over me, I entered her tightness and slowly,
ever so slowly felt myself slip up into her heat.

"Does she know?" I whispered.

"Do I know what?" asked Janey, innocently.

"How special that suit is, for one," said Sally.

"What's so special about it?"

Sally turned to me. I shrugged. Janey already knew a
lot. A little more shouldn't hurt.

"I wore that suit the first time we, uh, the first
time, uh..."

"What, Mom? The first time you kissed? The
first...oooohhhh." I could see the twinkle in her
eyes. She sensed there was something more behind it
than just that, though, and she almost trembled in
anticipation of learning the juicy parts. I grinned,
thinking I could cut to the chase and bring the
conversation to a halt.

"Your mother and I went to the shore for the day. She
wore that suit. She looked so hot in it, still does,
too, I couldn't keep my hands off her."

"Really? He attacked you, Mom?"

Sally looked back around at me, smiling softly at the
fond memories. "He didn't stand a chance. It was a
calculated provocation, honey." She turned back to her
daughter. "It was very much like you're doing now."

"Oh." I almost thought I saw a look of guilt flash
across that impish face. "Am I that obvious?"

"To me. But I think you'll need it to get through to
him, though; or something just as obvious. He's pretty
dense about these things."

I was lost. What the hell were they talking about?
Were they saying what I think?

"Just be careful with that particular suit especially
the bottoms. He took me seven times that first time I
wore it. And we've put it to good use many times since
without fail."

"No! You're kidding, right? Seven? guys can't...
they aren't supposed to... seven times? All at once?
Bang, bang, bang?"

"Well, it took him the best part of that day. And
believe me, it was the best part, too!"

"So what happened?"

"I discovered he can't resist my ass when I wear the

"Your ass? You mean he put it in back there, like he
did in the woods?

"Uh-huh. And like it is now." I thought I had
recognized that particular tightness. It was such a
lovely feeling.

"You mean you're doing it, right now? Up your
butthole? Wow! Wait, you said the bottoms. Don't you
wear the top?"

"Uh-uh. Don't need `em." She turned again to me,
wiggling her bottom cheeks provocatively against my

"Like this?"

We both watched the tiny piece of cloth drift to the
deck. This time, as she turned, she paused facing away
from us, and bent slightly at the waist. She looked
around at us over her shoulder. She winked at me. I
couldn't help it. I flooded Sally's passage and did
not soften.

Sally looked back at me and grinned. She enjoyed
teasing me with her luscious daughter, knowing I would
have her when Janey was ready. And that point was fast

Janey, topless, got in the hot tub and slid over next
to me, her bare breasts bobbing in the bubbling water.
"Mom, are you going to get off him anytime soon? Do I
get a turn?" She looked from one of us to the other.
"Come on, guys. I've been pretty patient with you as
you acted like newlyweds, but a girl gets horny hearing
all that screaming. And those moans mom makes, too."

We laughed at her attempt at humor. I could feel
Sally's indecision. The time for me to deal with Janey
was approaching very fast, indeed. She knew it was
what we agreed needed to be done, but she still just
couldn't quite accept the actuality of sharing me,
especially with her daughter. I helped her make her
decision. I slipped my hand around her waist and
captured her clit between my finger and thumb. As I
rhythmically squeezed the sensitive nub, I slid another
finger into her cleft. I heard her sigh, as she knew
this was one of the things I did when we were just
getting started for the night.

"No, dear. Not tonight. Tonight he is all mine."
Spoken softly into the night, her voice quivered, as if
she was crying. Janey looked at her curiously, then
snuggled up against me, content that her mother was
extremely happy. I felt the sharp points of her bare
nipples against my arm as she brushed them back and
forth. She wasn't trying to turn me on, although I
didn't mind. She just needed to feel someone else, to
share with us. I put my free arm around her briefly
and gave her a hug. Her wan smile told me she knew she
was out of luck tonight, but also told me that soon.

I turned my attention to my lover, moving the arm that
had just hugged Janey around her to pull her back
against me. I established a firm grip on her floating
breasts, switching from one luscious orb to the other,
teasing them, reveling in their resilience.

Sally was riding me slowly, tantalizing me, telling me
in her own special way that I belonged to her, now and
always. I knew that, but it was nice, anyway.

"I will always be yours, my love." I whispered in her
ear. I paused.

"Cum for me."

I felt her anal muscles tighten around my iron prick as
she cried out and spasmed, the energy from her orgasm
flowing into all three of us. Janey basked in those
feelings she shared with her mom and soaked in the hot
water for a while. She was still just a little jealous
of her mother's orgasms that she could only share
through their special link, but she was even happier
for her Mother's happiness to let it create a wall
between them.

We never noticed when Janey left.

Chapter 24

The start of the opera and symphony concert season in
the Fall was a big social event in our community. The
first concert to be performed at this year's gala was
scheduled to be a collection of pieces by one of
Sally's favorite composers. I thought his work was
pretty good, but personally I liked a more bombastic
style, like Wagner. But for romance and setting the
mood, the season opener held a lot of promise.

Two weeks prior to the concert, I announced that the
opening night would be a special event for both Sally
and Janey. Both immediately started bugging the shit
out of me, but, as I expected them to try their
damnedest to get a hint out of me, I was able to simply
smile at them. It drove them nuts. They didn't have a
clue what to expect.

The ornately wrapped packages from The Guild began
arriving shortly after my announcement. Everything
that organization did, they did with style, and their
delivery service was no exception. All packages not
taken by the customer immediately were delivered by
shining golden vans with ornate filigree detailing. It
was much in the style of the royal coaches in the 18th
century. There was no mistaking one of them as it
drove through the countryside. You could almost feel
the envy of the neighbors when one of those vans
arrived in your driveway. Some particularly nosy
gossips had been known to follow a van for miles out of
their way just to see who the lucky person was who was
on the receiving end of the delivery.

The vans were driven by special bonded couriers dressed
in distinctive red uniforms and pompous-looking tall
hats with plumes. The couriers were male or female,
fit, polite, well-trained and well-armed. It was a
good thing, too, given the value of some of the
deliveries they had to make.

The delivery area for the vans included a five-state
area. Beyond that, the bonded couriers hand-delivered
each package, using whatever mode of transportation was
best suited to meet the delivery schedule. And always
with that dash of style and panache, of course. More
and more of the distinctive red uniforms were being
spotted on over-seas flights as the craftsmen of The
Guild became known throughout the world for the quality
of their work. It was unparalleled. The red uniforms
soon provided automatic and easy entry into countries
with normally very tight customs officials. It didn't
usually take more than one reprimand from a king or
high official to grease the skids.

I had specified that the packages were to be delivered
sealed, and they were. Sally and Janey had some very
unkind words for me when they realized the boxes were
sealed with a wax Guild seal, and their efforts at
snooping were thwarted. Again, I merely smiled,
enjoying the mounting frustrations and tensions in
them. Anticipation and the unknown make a wonderful
combination in a woman. I only hoped what I had
planned for the evening lived up to their expectations.

The morning of the event I placed new silk robes on
their beds and awoke each with a kiss and a light
breakfast. They were instructed to bathe - not shower
- using the special bath beads I had placed in their
bathrooms for at least 90 minutes, and not to leave
their rooms. They were to be in my office down the
hall ready for their first appointment of the day at
11:00 that morning.

Both appeared in my office about 5 minutes early, their
reddened skin glowing pink through the light white silk
of the short robes. The robes had no belts, much to
Sally's disappointment, I think, and opened with the
slightest motion. I smiled at them, motioned for them
to sit in the chairs in my office, and proceeded to
ignore them for the next 5 minutes. With extreme difficulty on my part, I might add. The robes were
opened quite often and intentionally. I didn't get any
actual work done, but I made my point, I hope. I was
surprised they were only 5 minutes early.

At exactly 11:00 I stood up, kissed the back of Janey's
hand and led her out to the family room. There was a
table set up inside a cloth booth. I held out my hand
for her robe, which she gave me. I looked at her nude
form for several moments, touching her lightly. As I
anticipated, even those light caresses caused shivers
of delight to chase each other up and down her spine.
She was panting by the time I helped her up onto the
table and instructed her to lie face down.

I placed a folded towel across her glorious posterior.
This brought a moan of disappointment from her. I
think she thought I was going to screw her on the table
right then. As tempting as that was, I had other

I held back one of the flaps of the booth and motioned
for the person standing silently outside to enter. The
slightly built woman of asian descent moved gracefully
into the booth. She bowed low to me, then shrugged off
her over-blouse. This left her in just a short band of
cloth covering her genital area, tied at one side
sarong style. As she turned to Janey, I caught sight of
a pair of firm apple-sized tits topped with chocolate

The masseuse kneeled up on the table next to the girl,
lightly tracing the lines and patterns of the muscles
on her back. As I left the cubicle, I heard the first
of many moans as Janey relaxed into her first massage.

Sally was pouting prettily when I returned for her, but
brightened as I took many more liberties with her than
just kissing her hand. I brought her quickly to the
edge of a climax, then eased off and just let her
simmer on the edge. When I was done teasing her, I
pulled her robe back around her to cover her arousal
and led her into the family room. A table in the
second booth waited for her.

She gave me a quizzical look when she heard the low,
long moans coming from the adjacent booth. I held out
my hand and helped her off with her robe in answer. I
beheld her naked beauty once again, appreciating it as
if for the first time. My open - and very obvious -
admiration of her charms brought a pleasing blush to
her skin, spreading from her face, down her neck and on
to the tops of her creamy breasts.

I helped her onto the table. With nudges and lingering
touches I maneuvered her so she was face down and then
let her masseuse into the booth. The two asian women
could have been twins, the only difference being that
Sally's had longer hair. She, too, climbed on the
table and straddled Sally's waist, one knee on each
side of the prone woman. One rubbery ass cushioned the
other. I waited until the low purring Sally makes when
she is contented started to come from her booth as
well, and left them alone.

I grinned maliciously as I went back to the office, not
to work, but to rest. I was going to need it. The two
masseurs had instructions to keep the two women relaxed
but aroused for the next hour. Under no circumstances
were Sally or Janey to be allowed to orgasm. I wanted
them so on edge their teeth hurt. Tonight would be
special indeed.

Sally and Janey kind of oozed into my office an hour
later, their eyes glazed and knees wobbly from the
stimulating massages they had just undergone. But the
blush on their cheeks was unmistakable. Janey's
expression mirrored her mother's, and I was very
familiar with Sally's `if I don't get fucked in two
seconds, I'll chop it off and stuff it in myself' look.
It was time for the first box.

I reached into my desk and pulled out two small
packages. I handed one to Janey and one to Sally.

"You may open these now," I said.

The bows were ripped off with the ferocity of lions at
the first kill in a month. Their twin gasps of
pleasure were almost synchronized to the nanosecond.

"Oh, Dad! It's beautiful! Mom, look!" Janey held up
a white-gold necklace with a ruby encrusted key on the
chain. The length of the chain let the key snuggle
into the top of her cleavage. I moved around behind
her and put it on her. It was her first piece of
expensive jewelry, and she was as pleased as I had ever
seen her.

"That is the key to my heart, Honey. I wanted you to
know how I felt about you and that you will always have
a special place there," I whispered in her ear as I
hooked the clasp securely.

She turned and hugged me, tears in her eyes. "I love
you, Dad. Thank you so much! It's beautiful."

Sally was still staring at her present. It, too, was

"Here, my love, let me help you with that." I moved
behind her and waited until she finally lifted the ends
of the jewelry into my hands. Her head bowed as I
fastened it behind her neck with a solid click.

I leaned down and whispered so that only she could
hear. "Do you understand what it means when you wear

She nodded. Her hand slipped up to lightly touch the
jeweled slave's collar I had locked around her neck.
The collar was wide, about two and a half inches. It
was an intricate weave of platinum wire and rods that
let it flex around her neck, but not warp or roll in
any other axis. The wire and rods were covered with
reflective stones, mostly diamonds with some emeralds
mixed in. The effect was to create a band of light
around her neck with mysterious flashes of emerald. It
was more beautiful than I had hoped when I described it
to the jeweler. It was devastating.

As I stood behind her, watching her reaction, drinking
in her beauty, I noticed the trembling of her body, and
I wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement. I hoped
the latter. I brushed her cheek lightly with my lips
before continuing.

"I want this night to be special for you. I know how
much you have longed for this to begin, and it will,
tonight. But it will still be a little while, yet.
You may wear this collar now, or not, your choice. I
will not require anything of you until all your
preparations for this evening are complete. Until
then, you will behave as Sally. Understood?" I lifted
her chin and looked her in the eye.

"Yes, Master," she whispered softly. Then she threw
her arms around me, squealing with delight. The two
women ooohhed and aaahhhed over each other's adornments
until I ushered them out to the next appointment.

I led them back into the family room. The booths and
the massage tables were gone and in their places stood
two barber-style chairs. An exclusive beauty salon
from a near-by town had sent two highly skilled
technicians and two assistants to pamper my two
princesses. When they had been comfortably seated in
the chairs, the technicians flew into a choreographed
dance of activity around my two blondes. I had ordered
the works for them. They were manicured, pedicured,
trimmed, oiled, scrubbed, rubbed, tubbed, sanded, face-
packed, mud-packed and every other tortuous process
women go through for the sake of beauty.

As much as I loved doing it myself, I had Sally shaved.
Janey's pubic region was trimmed way back from her
bikini wax to just a thin strip of short soft hairs
pointing to paradise. The technicians and assistants
had the same instructions as the masseuses. They were
to keep the treatments as sensual as possible without
letting them go over the edge. From the cries of
frustration I heard coming through the open door of my
office, they were very good at their jobs.

When the treatments were done, two of the technicians
led the pampered women to their respective bathrooms
where the assistants had drawn another steaming bath
for each them. There the girls were stroked, soaked,
soaped and rinsed, stroked some more, hair washed and
conditioned, and then stroked and soaked again in
steaming hot water with bath oils added.

When they were done, they were led back into the family room where their hair was done. At my instructions,
Janey's blonde tresses were done up in an elegant style
leaving her shoulders and neck bare. Sally's hair was
braided in an elegant French braid, the broad
intertwining stands hanging down in a single plait that
reached halfway down her back.

Makeup was applied skillfully after their hair was
done. Although only 15, Janey looked much older when
she was finished. Sally was made up just as
skillfully, looking regal but more like her sister than
Janey's mother. Of course, all the powders and paints
could only accent the beauty of the canvases they were
applied to. The flashes of excitement in the eyes of
the two painted ladies were repeated many times over in
the tiny sparkles embedded in the blush applied to
their faces. I smiled in satisfaction. They were like
two little kids, full of excitement on Christmas

The day was creeping by, closing in on the opening of
the opera. I saw the technicians out to their van.
They would return after we left to pack their
equipment. Their service had been excellent. They
would be retained again, and often.

Alone with Sally and Janey, I began the difficult final
phase of the preparation. I would now have to reveal
more of my plans for the evening to them, taking away
some of the mystery. I took Janey by the hand and led
her to her room. There I presented her with a stack of
boxes, all with The Guild's seal.

"Your attire for this evening is in those boxes. I
hope you like it." I paused, feeling almost like a
teenager again. "Uh, Janey, I would like this evening
to be kind of like our first date; a special time just
between you and me. Will you go with me as my `date'
this evening?" I offered formally.

Her eyes got big, then clouded as she remembered Sally.
"What about Mom?"

I looked directly at her, holding her hands in mine.
"Janey, your mother will be there, too. She will be
with us, but she won't be, kind of." She looked
quizzical. "Look, I hope I'm doing the right thing
with her tonight. But it's kind of hard to explain.
When you have dressed, come into our room. Perhaps you
will understand after you see her. She will be happy
tonight, Honey. At least, I hope so."

I could feel her questioning eyes burning holes in my
back as I left the bewildered teenager standing there.
At the door, I turned.

"Is it a date?"

"Oh, yes! I'm sorry. Yes!" She shook off the rest of
her questions and tore into the many boxes. I wished I
could stay and watch the reverse striptease as the
buxom teen got dressed. I had no intention of
disrobing her this evening, but it would have been
delectable. I had chosen clothing that appealed to my
sensuous side and I hoped it would appeal to hers as

I had purchased soft silky under things that were as
sheer as possible for her to wear tonight. They were
more for window dressing than function. Unfortunately,
I wasn't planning to be doing any window shopping
tonight. The tiny bra and panties were virginal white
and had a matching garter belt. I had a sense it would
be her first, but the sheer white stockings only came
to just above her mid-thigh, so it was necessary.
Besides, I wanted her to be aware of the availability
of her sex. Pantyhose, while convenient for the
workplace, acted like armor plating in a romantic

Her dress was a simple black affair, deceptive in
style. The material was silk, with silver highlights
woven into it. It was not a revealing cut and fully
covered her, yet the dress revealed her charms to the
sharp observer. With the exception of two silver
straps over her shoulders, she was bare above the
swells of the tops of her breasts. The material fell
to ankle length, hugging her body closely, outlining
and defining her breasts, abdomen, hips and legs. Two
sexy slits from the bottom hem to just above mid-thigh
allowed her to move freely.

I had also provided her with the highest heeled shoes
she had ever worn. I hoped she wouldn't be too off
balance by their height. The dress was designed to be
worn with that height heel. The silver shoes, the
silver straps, and the white gold of her necklace
brought out the highlights in the dress. She was going
to look elegant.

There were also some strange accessories from the Rosen
Clinic in a separate box. I hoped she wouldn't object
to them. Having been fitted for them, they shouldn't
cause much, if any, discomfort, either on application,
or wear. There were two soft plastic cups that fit
perfectly over each breast. They were so exactly
shaped that they were labeled `Left' and `Right' so
they wouldn't be confused. They were thin and pliable
and you could still see her erect nipple through her
dress when aroused. I intended for her to spend most
of the evening in that state.

Two other accessories were designed to slip into the
vagina and rectum. They were thin, relatively innocent
looking devices that could shake her to her core.
There were instructions with drawings enclosed in the
boxes showing how and where to insert each special
accessory. The vaginal probe had a small curved arm at
about 90 degrees that ended in a small hollow cap. The
cap fit snuggly over her quiescent clitoris, but would
expand as necessary.

The finale of the Rosen's gadgets was a pair of
earrings, sparkling like diamonds, which they were.
The clasps of the earrings incorporated a Rosen unit
that turned the ears into a highly erotic zone. I
wasn't sure how it worked, but I believed in their
work, so I was sure it would be effective. Janey was
in for a memorable night.

But I didn't watch her dress. I had other things to
do. Namely, prepare my lover for her own special
night. I wasn't really sure how she would receive the
news about my date with her daughter. That was a
gamble on my part. I only hoped it paid off.

I went back into the family room to find Sally on her
knees, her hands clasped behind her neck, her head
bowed down. God, what that did to her tits! I was
tempted to let her stay in that position and use her
mouth. It had been a `hard' day for me. But this was
too early yet for what I had planned. And she was just
a bit too eager.

"Sally, stand up, please. Your preparations for this
evening are not yet complete. I have some things to
ask you which require an honest and open response.
Please?" I held out my hand.

She looked at me sexily, glancing up through those
gorgeous lashes. My favorite look. Her smile ignited
my heart as she gracefully took my hand and got up. I
held her gaze and never noticed when she released my
hand. I was lost in a sea of emotion, torn between my
need to treat this woman I loved with all my heart with
tenderness and love, and fulfilling her need to be
dominated and bound. Steeling myself to keep to the
plan I had chosen for the evening, I took her hand and
led her to the bedroom, where I had laid out her

It wasn't much. She still had on her glittering slave
collar. I ushered to her dressing table and sat her in
the low stool in front of it. I first took a slender
package and opened it, withdrawing a pair of stockings similar to Janey's. These had a bit more cling around
the top banding to hold them without garters, however.
I slowly slid them over the smooth skin of her long
legs, caressing each one as the stocking slid into
place. We were both trembling when it was over. It
was one of the most erotic things I had ever done for
her, and her excitement was visible, as was mine.

Next I selected a long narrow box. Amud and his wife had made this piece. I withdrew a pair of shoulder-
length white gloves of the finest leather. They looked
and felt like velvet and were without blemish. She
held out one hand, then the other as I slipped them up
her proffered arms. As I smoothed them out, working
the wrinkles up to the tops, I squeezed the top of each
glove, tightening my hand around her upper biceps. The
faint click of a ratchet could be heard as the metal
rings hidden in the top of the gloves closed on
themselves, locking the gloves on her arms.

Sally's eyes were wide with excitement at this
development, though she stayed silent. When I closed
the rings at each elbow and wrist, tightly binding the
gloves to her arms, she closed her eyes and shuddered.

"You may not cum until I give permission. Is that
clear, Sally?"

She nodded, silent, not trusting her voice.

I gently pulled her wrists behind her and fastened the
metal rings embedded in the gloves together with tiny
hooks. Other hooks were hidden in the seams of the
gloves and I joined and locked them one by one, until
her forearms were touching from elbow to wrist behind
her back. The final connection was at the level of the
metal rings just above her elbows. Sitting on the
stool, her chest thrust forward, she held my gaze with
her fiery green eyes. Not defiant, but victorious, in
a sense. I didn't know what she thought she had won,
other than my heart, but there was victory was in her

I moved around in front of her, and slipped silver
heels on her feet. Unlike Janey's four-inch heels,
Sally's were outrageous. The heels were six inches, at
least, in height and they had a narrowing toe to
torture her all night long. Her foot was pointed
almost straight down in those shoes. A low moan
escaped her as the shoes tightly gripped her feet and
were buckled tight with a strap across her instep and
another that wrapped tight around her ankle.

Two boxes remained. A large box, and a small one. I
leaned over to the bed and picked up the small one.
Still in front of her, I got down on one knee. The big

I took a deep breath. "Sally, I love you with all my
heart. In all that happened during and since that time
when you agreed to marry me, I never formally proposed
to you." I placed my folded hands on her stocking-clad
thighs, got down on one knee, and looked up at her.
"Sally, would you do me the honor of consenting to be
my wife?"

There. It was said. She had the option of backing
out, saying `No,' crushing me like a bug. Of course,
she did have her hands tied behind her back, so at
least I figured she wouldn't slap me. My groin was
exposed to her feet, though, and with this family...

The silence was unbearable. The heat stifling. I
broke out in a sweat. A lump the size of New Jersey
and almost as toxic formed in my throat. I think my
lower lip trembled.


My heart resumed beating, my lungs filled with sweet
air. I cried. Well, just a little.

I beamed, grinned, the proverbial mile-wide, shit-
eating grin. "We never talked about rings and stuff,
but I noticed you don't wear rings much. I took the
liberty of getting you a temporary engagement ring. If
you don't like this one, there are other styles..." I
opened the box and showed her the heart-shaped diamond
I had had designed for her.

She gasped. "Oh! It's gorgeous! Oh, Larry, you
shouldn't have. You didn't need to. You know that. I
don't need such an expensive stone. Oh, dear..." She
suddenly noticed her hands were bound. "Larry? I
don't see a setting. Just the stone. How...?"

I took a fine platinum wire ring from the box. Lifting
up my hands I gently grasped her left breast. I worked
my thumb around the tip until the excitable flesh
hardened and swelled up. Grasping the end of the
nipple with my thumb and forefinger of one hand I
pulled it slightly towards me. It was unnecessary for
what I was about to do, but I loved that little flare
of her eyes and her nostrils when I did that.

I threaded the wire through the hole that was already
pierced in her left nipple and secured the stone to the
wire. The heart shaped stone nestled just below her
aroused nipple. It sent shards of light bouncing
around the room with each breath she took and with each
beat of her heart.

"Oh, my! Larry!" She was speechless. I think she
liked it.

I leaned forward to kiss the stone, and the surrounding
environment, too. Tears of joy dripped on her breasts.
I was glad they had used waterproof make up on her

Standing, I helped her to her feet. With her hands
bound behind her, she was rather unsteady on the tall
heels. I had her walk back and forth across the room
to get used to them. By the second time up and back
she had mastered them. I had her do a few more laps
just so I could see the effect the heels and her bound
hands had on her bouncing tits and her legs and ass as
she sashayed up and back in front of me. Her smile
told me she had been watching my reaction in the mirror
as she walked away. I grinned back and had her do one
more lap for good measure. She really threw herself
into that one.

I motioned for her to kneel at the foot of the bed.
She was now as ready as she was going to be. I needed
to get dressed, however.

She watched with interest as I dressed in my tuxedo.
She raised her eyebrow when I omitted my normal boxers,
but I ignored her unspoken questions with a pained look
of innocence. She stuck out her tongue then licked her
lips. For a minute I wondered if she knew what I had
planned. Tough. I wasn't going to change it now. I
finished getting ready for my date with Janey. It felt
strange to be primping for one female in the presence
of another.

Sally's last box was on the bed. We both stared at it,
the final preparation. I walked over to the bed and
opened the box. I lifted out an emerald green velvet
cape. I held it out to her and she got up and walked
over to me, turning her back to me just as she
approached. I settled the cape over her shoulders.

The cape fastened at the neck with a silver brooch.
The two front flaps had a series of discreet clasps
that kept the cape securely together. There was enough
overlap so that no one was going to get a peepshow
through an inopportune gap. The bottom of the cape
just cleared the floor, except in the front, where the
material was cut away to expose her legs up to her
knees. It looked odd, in a fashionable way, but there
was a purpose.

"My love, the preparations are complete. You are to
remain silent tonight. Not one word. You will be able
to enjoy the concert. I will not take that away from
you. You will not cum until I give you specific
permission." She kept her head bowed, nodding her
understanding of each instruction. I continued.

"My love, do you remember the terms of our bet?"

She nodded.

"That will be your position at anytime we are out of
the public eye." I heard a gasp.

I had had my trousers modified to replace the zipper
with a Velcro strip. I opened the fly and sat on the
stool. "Well?" My cock, having suffered through the
entire day with no attention, stuck its head out to get
a breath of fresh air. It swelled at the sight of her
beauty and beckoned her with each heartbeat closer,
closer, closer.

Her warm mouth enveloped the head as she knelt between
my legs. The cutout of the cape material in the front
let her get up and down on her knees without the danger
of becoming entangled in the excess cloth.

I reached down to stroke her golden hair. It was time
for the bombshells.

"Janey will be joining us shortly. You will not move
from your task when she enters. Tonight, I am Janey's
date. You are going to be an accessory, my slave." I
fought hard not to soften that word with an expression
of my love, a reassurance to her, to me. "You will
walk behind us when we move in public. When we are in
public, you will act normally, head raised, eyes up,
but you will remain silent in the presence of anyone
other than the three of us. I will not tolerate your
humiliation in the presence of strangers. Is that very

I felt the slightest nod through my fingers in her
hair. She had not moved once, but I had sensed the
tightening of her muscles as she strained to control

"In the event Janey should need you, I have provided a
quick release mechanism on the gloves. If you will
feel with your left index finger along the ball of the
left thumb, you will feel a slight bump in the
material. Pressing firmly on that bump will release
your arms, and you may attend to Janey. She is our
first priority, even more important than this.

"Any infraction, however small, will result in
punishment. That punishment will be severe." I let
the silence build after that statement. It hung there
like a sledgehammer until Janey strolled elegantly into
the room.

"Hi, guys. Ready to...oops! Sorry! I'll come

"Stop! It's all right, Janey, come on in."

She gave me a funny look, going back and forth between
her mother sucking my cock and me.

"I was just explaining to your mother what this evening
was going to be like. If you can accept her going
along as a silent consort, we will continue. You are
to ignore her unless you need her. OK?"

Janey was still for a minute, looking to her link with
her mom. She smiled. "Cool! She's happy. OK. Let's

"One more thing, were you able to wear everything?"

She gave me a disgusted look. "Yes, Daddy. And some
of the jewelry was very, very personal." She shifted
her hips as she spoke, indicating some discomfort in
her groin.

"Is everything all right? Are you in pain, hurting?"

"Nooo! It's just not every date that has you insert a
plastic tube up your butt before you go out. Geeze,
Dad!" She giggled, the little girl emerging. "I'm
fine. Let's go. I heard a limo arrive just as I was
coming down the hall.

I tapped Sally on the chin with a feather touch and she
rose to her feet gracefully, without assistance. With
her taller heels, she towered over Janey, but her eyes
remained firmly downcast.

"Oh, Janey, Honey you look absolutely beautiful. I
hope you like the dress."

"God, Dad. I feel like a movie star. Thank you so
much for today. You made me feel special."

"The night is just beginning. And when we're in
public, you should probably call me `Larry.' Some of
them might think something is going on between us."

"Well, isn't there something going on?" She still
thought tonight was going to be all hers.

"What? On a first date? No way, young lady." As we
laughed, I gathered her elbow in my arm and guided her
out of the room. I didn't look back to see if Sally
would follow. She had her instructions.

At the entry hallway, I had one more surprise for
Janey. I slipped the white ermine stole from the small
table standing there and put it around her shoulders.
The soft fur of the innocent animals rubbed against her
cheeks as she held it to her tightly. I saw the pain
in her eyes as she realized the sacrifice the donors of
the fur had made. It made her appreciation of the wrap
all that more precious.

The limo was waiting, the liveried driver standing by
the rear door. She had been well briefed on the timing
and the routes to take, both going to the opera house
and returning home. She snapped to attention as we
exited the house and held the rear door open for us. I
helped Janey into the car. She slid over to the middle
of the seat. I got in next and sat on the left side.

I did not offer to assist Sally. It was difficult to
navigate without having her arms free to help her keep
her balance, and the high heels didn't help. To say I
was concerned would be an understatement. I was ready
to leap to her aid. I just prayed the driver
remembered to be ready to catch her if she fell
backwards. I didn't want her to smash her head on the
pavement. It would have put a kind of damper on the

I shouldn't have worried. Sally gracefully entered the
rear compartment and settled lightly on the seat behind
the driver. Her head remained bowed, but I did see a
slight sheen of moisture on her upper lip. I took my
pocket-handkerchief, leaned forward and patted her lip
lightly. My fingers lingered on the smooth skin of her

Settling back in the seat of the car, I noticed with
pleasure that the windows were darkened, giving us
complete privacy. The barrier between the driver's
compartment and ours was opaque. I had the override
switch. It would stay up. Seeing we were invisible to
the outside world, I reached down and opened my pants,
allowing my soft cock to roll out.

"Dad! Can't you wait? Geeze!" Janey stared at the
soft tube then started to reach for it.

"Sorry, kiddo. That's not for you. First date,
remember? You wouldn't want me to have to worry about
you when you start dating guys your own age now, would

"Well, no. But, I mean, like, it's not like I haven't
seen it before and all. I just thought... Hey, how
come she gets to have it? That's not fair!"

Sally had knelt between my legs and had captured the
head of my cock in her mouth. I was gritting my teeth
to keep it soft, but with her phenomenal mouth, it was
a loosing battle. She slowly raised herself up to keep
just the head in her mouth as I swelled to full
hardness. I caressed her hair absently as she kept her

Janey and I maintained a light banter on the 45-minute
drive to the gala. She tried to ignore her mother, but
her eyes would frequently drift down to watch the still
figure holding my cock in her mouth. I figured it was
time for a distraction.

I reached into my pocket and fingered the remote the
Rosen's had provided. The devices they had sent over
last week were advanced from what they had used before.
The earrings were tuned to Janey's brainwaves. The
remote could be used to stimulate just a single area,
such as her ears or could hit other areas, as well. I
had it turned so that just her ears would be
sensitized. I dialed it to a low level and switched it

She didn't show any visible signs of noticing anything
different. She had been staring out the far window at
a view of the river. I lifted my hand and pulled her
by the shoulder over closer to me. Smiling, she looked
up at me expectantly. I leaned down and lightly blew a
stream of warm, moist air so that it barely touched her
ear. I watched the tiny cilia wave slightly as the
wind moved them.

Janey stiffened in my grasp then shuddered. A low moan
escaped her lips and her hand, which had been resting
on my thigh, dug in with all five freshly manicured

I blew past it again with the same response. She let
her head fall back on my shoulder and just before her
eyelids closed, I saw her eyes rolling back in her
head. I barely touched her other ear with my finger.
My hand hovered just over her shoulder, my arm trapped
by her head.

Janey jolted from the soft touch of my finger, actually
bouncing out of the seat. She stiffened almost
straight then relaxed into her orgasm. A strangled cry
tore from her as she continued to climax hard. She was
so full of sexual tension from the day's activities
that it hadn't taken much to set off a tremendous

As she cried, I felt Sally flinch. She had felt
Janey's release through the link. While I didn't mind
her sharing it, I did mind the teeth marks she left on
my cock when she winced. I reached down and lifted her
head off my cock. With one finger under her chin, I
lifted her eyes to mine.

"That's one," was all I said.

She nodded her acknowledgement of the infraction,
understanding and accepting her pending punishment.

I kept Janey in a constant state of climax for the
remaining 20 minutes of the trip. The driver flashed
the lights briefly to indicate two minutes to arrival.
I tapped Sally on the top of the head to indicate she
was to retake her seat. I turned the intensity of the
signal to Janey's ears down a bit. She had relieved a
lot of tension, but I wanted to build her back up
through the concert for the ride home. I initiated the
signals to the devices covering her breasts. I kept
these signals low, as I didn't want her staggering
through the lobby of the opera house.

The driver opened the rear door, handed out Janey,
saluted me, and waited for Sally to get out. She had
been instructed not to help Sally, unless she was
falling. I noticed she was alert for any trouble, and
I turned my attention to the crowd of fellow concert-
goers. It was the usual crowd of the rich, the almost
rich and the wannabes. I kept an eye out for familiar
faces, and for anyone who looked like they were heading
towards us, especially those who might want to speak
with Sally.

Janey recognized several of her High School friends.
All were dressed to be seen, but they looked absolutely
juvenile next to her. She introduced me as her `Dad'
to those who were confident enough to come over to
speak with her. Several of my acquaintances ventured
closer to get a better look at Janey. More than a few
raised a questioning eyebrow, which I returned with an
innocent smile. I introduced Janey as the daughter of
my fianc‚ to a couple of them. Their disbelief was

I was curious to know what Sally was doing to avoid
conversation. I caught her reflection in a shining
brass ornament. Her head was bowed so low it was
almost parallel to the ground. No wonder no one wanted
to speak with her!

I turned around, tipped up her face with a finger under
her chin, and said,

"That's two, three and four."

Her eyes widened at the multiple counts. She knew she
had displeased me greatly by disobeying. I think she
had hoped to escape with one additional count, not

Holding her head high, she took a deep breath. I could
still see the fear in her eyes, but also resolve. She
would not displease me again.

I turned to get Janey and guided her to our box as the
lights dimmed in the lobby. Sally followed obediently.

I opened the door to the box and ushered my date
inside. Stepping through, I waited until Sally was
through, then I closed the door and slid the privacy
bolt home. I looked around the box. The re-furbishing
had gone better than I had hoped.

About a month ago, the manager of the opera house had
called me. He was in a bind, to put it politely. It
seems he had promised my season seats to someone who
wouldn't take `No' for an answer; someone who
apparently could make his life very miserable, as well.
The only other seats available for the entire season
were in one of the private boxes. He described it to
me, and as he went over the features, location, size,
etc., I had had the idea for what I had put into play

The manager had been hoping I would just take the box
in a direct exchange for the other three seats. He was
flabbergasted when I not only accepted, but insisted on
paying full price for this season and the following
four seasons as well. That type of plan elevated me to
a special guest of the opera, not to mention an
immediate personal friend of the manager. One of the
benefits of that status was that if I wanted to be left
alone, no one would be barging in on us. Hence, the
privacy bolt on the inside of the door. Mine was
currently the only box with that feature.

One other feature I had insisted on, which I saw had
been implemented, was that our seats were not visible
from any spot in the house, nor from the stage. The
manager had accomplished that by moving our seats
slightly back into the interior of the box and by
slightly raising the height of the railing across the
front of our box. Now I understood why he had asked
the height of the shortest person. Seated, Janey could
just see comfortably over the top of the railing. He
had also extended the sidewalls of the box to prevent
anyone from peeking around from one of the adjacent

The intermission refreshments were waiting in the back
on a small table. The box looked almost empty, as I
had specified only two seats and a prayer rail, the
padded kneeling benches found in some liturgical
orthodox churches. To his credit, he had not asked a
single question about the arrangements.

Janey was giddy with the excitement of the opening
sounds of the orchestra, rushing to the rail and
looking out over the audience. I noticed her nipples
were clearly visible, excited by the stimulus of the
Rosen's devices. Feeling mischievous, I turned the
signals to both sets of the devices up a little, and
then goosed the output with the pulse button. I saw
her hands grip the railing tightly and her knees
buckled slightly as she sagged against the railing.
She didn't make a sound, though.

Sally, standing behind me sagged as well, leaning into
my back heavily. I turned to her.

"Did you just cum?"

She nodded.

"That's five. My love, is the link with Janey too
strong for you? I can dampen it for you if you wish."

Again she nodded, but only after thinking about it.
Being linked with Janey was her normal state. But
neither woman was in a normal state tonight. Both were
filled with sexual tension. Janey was getting relief,
in a matter of speaking, but Sally was not. In fact,
by sharing Janey's `relief,' Sally's sexual tensions
were climbing higher. She would not be able to take
much more without completely losing it. So she elected
to let me try to block the link, like I had done that
one time after our week of celibacy.

I had been doing some research on paranormal topics,
brain waves, meditation, and stuff like that. I had
needed to learn not only about what was going on, but
how to control it. Some of the most obscure stuff had
been the most helpful. I had read about how to focus
on a picture of what I wanted to do, like I had
pictured a fist squeezing my cock to delay myself from
ejaculating that night. It had also been suggested not
to picture specific things attached or connected to
people, as that could severely harm them if one
possessed the power of telekinesis. We had been lucky
that time that I had only tried to delay, not prevent
it altogether. Because I was touching Sally at the
time, she had been affected as well, and, through the
link, so had Janey.

This time I focused on a one-way mirror, the reflective
side toward Janey, the transparent side towards Sally.
The `mirror' should not affect Janey's perception of
Sally, but Sally would not feel Janey's releases. It
was the best I could do on short notice.

Janey came back to her chair, a wary look on her face.
She had figured out I had something to do with the
erotic feelings around her tits, but her ears were new
to her. I think she had at first assumed that because
her hair was up and they were exposed that they were
more sensitive, but she wasn't dumb. Finally she

"Dad, are you doing that to me?"

I grinned at her. "Uh-huh. Do you want me to stop?"

"Hell, no! But you could give a girl a chance to catch
her breath, OK?"

"OK." I waited a heartbeat. "Quick! Take a breath."

She giggled. I hit the pulse button, and the giggling
dissolved into a low moan. She sagged into her chair
and leaned over on my shoulder.

I leaned over and kissed her gently. "I wasn't joking,
kiddo. This will be a night you will remember for a
long time. Forever, I hope. Just hang on and enjoy
the ride. If it gets to be too much, take off the
earrings and I will stop. Fair enough?"

She reached up and grabbed my tie, using it to pull my
face down to hers. "Fair enough, but one of these days
I'll get you back."

"I can't wait." I grinned evilly as I turned the
intensity up another notch, and activated the lower
devices as well to a low setting. With all devices
going, she was in a constant state of arousal, crashing
over the edge, climbing out just to teeter precariously
for a minute and then crashing back over. Her shudders
were spaced about 3-5 minutes apart. She was going to
have a long concert. It would be one she would always
remember, but I doubted if she would remember the

I looked up to see Sally looking closely at Janey's
quaking frame. I admired her restraint. Her normal
means of contact with her daughter was blunted and now
it appeared as if she was having fits. I focused on
the mirror and made it not quite as effective. I had
focused on a total reflection of Janey's feelings. Now
I focused on letting the shadows and vague shapes come

Sally jolted as the first vague feelings hit her, and I
dampened it down a little. I still needed a lot of
practice fine-tuning this thing. Janey was going to be
climbing a lot higher, later tonight, and I didn't want
to overload Sally. The look of concern eased from
Sally's face. Just before she cast her eyes back down,
she looked at my face. I smiled. She paled, thinking
she had displeased me.

"My love, she is our first priority. I had cut you off
too well, and you couldn't tell if she was OK or ill.
You were concerned. I am pleased, by both your
behavior and your restraint. The count now stands at

She lowered her eyes, a pleased look in them. She had
felt a little of Janey's ecstasy and was thankful that
she didn't have to share the whole force of the link,
given the restrictions of her servitude for the
evening. She would have ridden the waves of her
daughter's orgasms to her own climaxes. She knew the
punishment I had in mind would be severe, but she still
would not have been able to control herself. Now she

She moved to kneel between my legs, to assume her
position. I stopped her and motioned for her to kneel
at the side of my chair on the kneeling bench. I
grasped her by the braid in her hair and pulled gently,
until her head was upright.

"This is a special performance of your favorite pieces.

I kept my hand on the back of her neck, but released
her braid from my grasp. I mindlessly traced the edges
of the tight collar with the tips of my fingers, and
traced the patterns of the tiny hairs up and down her
neck. I had been focusing on maintaining the mental
block for her, keeping Janey on edge, and listening to
the final preparations and opening remarks of the
concert. I wasn't paying much attention to what I was
doing or to Sally until I felt the trembling and heard
the soft sob.

In a single move I settled Janey into her chair and was
on my knees in front of my lover.

"Sally, what's wrong? Are you OK? Talk to me!"

"Oh, Master! I am not worthy of the attention you pay
me. I have displeased you, and still you touch me with
gentleness and love. I have earned my punishment and
your displeasure, not your tenderness."

"Ah. Yes. I need to make something clear to you," I
paused for effect, "slave."

Her head jerked up, the fear in her eyes visible.

Chapter 25

At the intermission, I turned Janey's stimulators down,
more so that she could help Sally to the Ladies Room
than to give her a break. I fully intended for her to
be in a constant state of arousal for the remainder of
the evening. It promised to be most entertaining, if
not exactly fulfilling for me. I was beginning to get
a certain - some might say perverse - satisfaction from
the constant arousal in the two women.

They returned from the obligatory visit without
incident. I indicated to Janey to bring a plate with a
selection of the refreshments from the buffet and a
single glass of champagne. The food had been
artistically laid out by the Opera House staff prior to
our arrival. Looking next at Sally, I simply pointed
to the kneeling bench. Keeping her head bowed, she
moved gracefully to my side and knelt down. I couldn't
help but notice her calm demeanor and that a satisfied
smile kept playing with the corners of her mouth.

I placed a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to
meet mine.

"Are you happy, my love?"

"Oh, YES, Master!"

"That pleases me." I smiled at her warmly. Then, just
as I was releasing her chin, I quietly asked, "By the
way, how many times did you cum in the ladies room with
Janey?" I had detected a more than faint odor of sex
wafting on her currents as she had come over to me.
The offhand question was rewarded with a look of sheer
panic on her face; that deer in the headlights look.
Caught! She blushed a deep scarlet, and turned her
face from mine in shame.

"That's five, my love. Do not make me give you more."

"Yes, Master."

I was silent for a moment, reflecting. "Am I really,

"Really what Master?" She was confused by how I
addressed her with her name. Normally, I use `my love'
to address her when she was a Sub.

"Your `Master'?"

She didn't answer for a while. When she did it was
with her head bowed completely down, her chin resting
on her chest. The jeweled collar must have been
choking her.

"To be completely honest, I don't know. Sometimes,
when you are focused, you are my Master. But other
times I sense you are unsure or defocused. You try to
cover for your uncertainty by pretending this is not
serious. When you are like that, then it is hard for
me to think of you as my Master. Uncertainty is
dangerous in a Master.

"As much as I desire to do so, I cannot commit to you -
as a slave - when you are unsure. You know I am
committed to you as a lover, even as your future wife.
But I cannot commit myself, my will to you when..."
She looked me directly in the eye as she spoke that
last part. She was not being cruel. She was, in a
way, begging me to take this seriously, to be the total
Master she could commit to.

"Forgive me for speaking so openly, but you asked."

I was quiet, shamed by my own indecision. I had sensed
the same things, but didn't know what to do. No,
that's not true. I did know. I needed to take this
change in our relationship seriously, attack it the
same way I did a business problem. Half the time I was
feeling my way, unsure of myself. So I played it
light, like a game. But this was not a game to her. I
would have to get serious about this, and soon.

"Sally, thank you. I confess I have been feeling the
same thing, but I didn't... No. No excuses." I
frowned at her, then made a decision.

"Slave! Do not address me as `Master' until I am your
Master." She looked up at me, startled at my use of
`slave' to address her. "You may use `Sir' until

She nodded. She understood it was not an option. She
also understood that I intended to become a true Master
to her.

"Yes, Ma... Sir. Thank you for understanding."

I nodded curtly. Taking the glass of champagne from
the side table where Janey had placed it, I offered my
lover a sip. She drank gratefully. I pointed to each
one of the selections of delicacies Janey had brought
over, one at a time. She finally nodded her head at a
particularly small one. I held it for her to bite and
she deftly nibbled at it until it was gone, then
cleaned my fingers with her tongue. I grinned to
myself as I thought of how she had made a meal of that
tidbit. I could have wolfed it down in one bite with
six others just like it. Sally took another sip of
wine then refused all offers for more.

As the orchestra was still out, I leaned back, opened
the Velcro fly of my trousers and let the head of my
soft cock slip out.

"Slave, where is your place?" I asked her quietly.

Once again I saw a faint grin teasing her luscious lips
as she repositioned herself over my lap and swooped
down to claim her prize.

With Sally taken care of, momentarily, anyway, I turned
my attention to my `date.' She had been taking
extraordinary pains to ignore Sally and me during our
little discussion, which clearly meant that she had
been watching and listening to everything. To take her
mind off us, I cranked up all of her external
stimulators to full, even the one in her ass. I also
activated the implanted neuro-chemical reservoirs in
her system to their lowest level, knowing that they
would release tiny amounts of the sexual enhancer into
her system. She would now orgasm at the slightest
touch. Hell, if she even thought about it, she would

I saw her blush as the sensations kicked in, then sag
slightly as the combination of the stimulators and the
chemicals pushed her over the edge almost immediately.
She wasn't going to climb back out of this for a while.
Wild-eyed, she staggered stiff-limbed back to her chair
beside me. She sort of oozed into her seat, a puddle
of quivering teenaged flesh. Her breathing was ragged.

"Comfy?" I asked her in a light tone.

She looked back up at me with a languid expression, her
eyes unfocused and her mouth open. Her breath, when
she could catch it, was in short gasps; most
unladylike, but incredibly appealing. I thought I
detected a slight nod in answer to my question, but it
could have been another spasm passing through her.

I tipped her head over onto my shoulder and sat back to
wait for the second half of the concert. About a
minute later I felt a warm light touch on my leg.
Janey had put her hand there, right below her mother's
face. As Janey climaxed, her hand squeezed my leg, and
gradually moved towards my iron shaft. When her
fingertips finally grazed the velvety skin, she stopped
moving any closer. She seemed content with just that
light contact. Her sharp fingernails moved lazily
though my thatch of curly pubic hairs, digging in from
time to time as she crashed through another climax.

Her mother watched this from above, her mouth never
moving off of the head of my cock. It must have been
strange for her, watching her daughter in the throes of
orgasm after orgasm and not being able to sense it. I
still had the damper on their link, keeping their
sensations apart.

Even when the music started, Sally stayed in place. I
didn't urge her away this time. This part of the
program was not the composer's best work nor were they
Sally's favorites, and the conductor's interpretations
left me a little cold. And to be honest, I don't think
any of us was paying much attention to the music.

Somehow, I managed to get both of them into the limo at
the end of the concert. Janey's legs were a little
wobbly, but she pulled herself together to get through
the dwindling crowd. She didn't talk to anyone and she
looked a bit flushed. I held her close to me,
supporting her through the crowd. She leaned heavily
until we stepped outside. The cool night air seemed to
revive her. Sally followed obediently behind me, as

The limo driver moved smoothly up to the curb as we
emerged from the gaily-lit doors of the Opera House.
She hopped out and opened the rear door, timing it so
that we didn't even have to slow down. Just down the
stairs and into the limo. She was good.

As we settled into the rear seats, I felt my fly being
opened by two timid hands. Since Sally was still bound
with her arms behind her, that could only mean that
Janey was doing some exploring. I glanced at Sally,
who was just getting to her knees in front of me. I
motioned with my head for her to get up and sit beside
me on the other side away from Janey. She did so
without hesitation.

After Sally was seated, I put my arm around her
shoulders and pulled her into me. I nuzzled my nose
into her hair and breathed in deeply. I loved the
smell of her hair. I brushed by lips softly along the
top of her head. I hoped she wouldn't notice this
apparent weakness on my part, but I found it hard not
to express my love for her in `soft' ways. I was still
learning, and hadn't yet realized it was the attitude,
not the action.

With a deep sigh of satisfaction, Sally accepted my
affectionate gesture. She tucked her legs up under
her, and snuggled into my side. I slipped my hand
through the opening of her cape and captured a firm
tit. She turned her face to my chest.

"Please, Sir. I will cum if you do that. You know
that. You are very skilled at arousing this slave. I
cannot help myself. Forgive my weakness."

I carefully captured the stiff nipple between my thumb
and forefinger. I looked her right in the eye.

"Slave, you have my permission to cum three times
before we get home. I will not stop playing with your
tits until we arrive, and I know just how sensitive
they are and how horny you are right now. I will do my
utmost to make you cum as often as I can. If you
succeed in limiting your pleasure to three climaxes,
you may choose your own punishment for your
indiscretions tonight. You will receive only the five
strokes, which you will count aloud for me. And then
thank me for. If you do not succeed, the number will
be doubled, and I will choose the punishment."

She gasped as I squeezed her nipple hard as I ended.
It must have taken a supreme effort on her part to
stifle that orgasm, but she did not cum. The driver
started the limo, and the vibrations from the road
added to her torment. I teased the firm flesh in my
hand unmercifully. Sally did not draw away from me or
resist my marauding hand. She remained quiet, her
breathing very controlled.

Janey had begun her exploration of my now engorged
prick as I was dealing with her Mom. Her hot little
hands grasped the base of shaft. She could not
encircle it with one hand.

"Daddy?" Her voice was small, much like I imagine it
was when she was six years old. "Can I ask you

"Sure, Honey. What do you want to know?"

"Are most guys this big?" She lifted my swollen organ
in her tiny hands and waved it a little to indicate
what she was referring to.

I laughed quietly. This was going to be an interesting
ride home. "I'm not sure, but I don't think so. But
the size of a man's penis is not really that important
between two people who love each other. A man does not
need a big cock to bring pleasure to a woman."

"Does it hurt when you stick it in down there?"

"The first time a woman is penetrated usually hurts
her, at least a little. But even after that, a small
one can hurt the woman if she isn't prepared or ready
or willing."

Janey had her own experience with that. She knew it
could hurt, even a small one. She was quiet, softly
stroking her fingers up and down.

"Some of the girls at school were talking about blow
jobs, putting their boyfriend's thingy in their mouth
and then sucking on it. Is that what mom has been
doing tonight?"

"Not exactly." I eased off on my tit-torture of Sally
as I reflected on some of the great oral passions we
had experienced in the past. "Your mom and I had a bet
once that she could make me cum in a minute or less
just by holding the head of my cock in her mouth. To
win the bet, she couldn't move, or suck, or hum or
anything. Just hold it. She was right and she won the
bet, the first time. I won the second time. I won't
bet with her like that again. I'm afraid of what I
would lose next time."

I smiled down at my lover. I placed a tender kiss on
her forehead. She closed her eyes and a small tear of
happiness trickled down her cheek from the corner of
one eye. Sally sighed as I attacked her sensitive
nipple once more, this time caressing it to its full
turgid height, then flicking it rapidly with the tip of
my finger. I continued talking to Janey.

"Now, I have her do it that way, just holding the head
in her mouth, more as a reminder. Giving a man oral
pleasure is one of the most intimate acts a woman can
do for a man. The pleasure almost always goes just one
way with this act, from the woman to the man. And the
very position the woman is in, kneeling, is a position
of servitude. But other than that, it just feels great
to have her mouth there."

"Do you ever let her move, I mean, does she still give
you blow jobs?"

"Janey, you should know by now, I don't `let' you
mother do anything. She does whatever she wants,
whenever she wants, and I willingly accept her gifts to
me. By the way, I also have pretty much the same
freedom with her, to do what I want, when I want. And
she accepts the pleasures I give her. She even
accepted my proposal of marriage, eventually.

"So the answer to your question is, `Yes' she still
does pleasure me orally. And I do the same for her,

"You mean you put your mouth down there, on her?"


"Wow! Doesn't that tickle?"

"Not too much. I trimmed her pussy hair back out of
the way so that I..."

"Not you, silly. Her! Doesn't it tickle her?"

"OH! Well, exc-u-u-use me." We both laughed. "Well,
I don't think so, but I really don't know. You'll have
to ask her. Later. But I do know she never laughed
while I was eating her pussy, at least not out loud.
She moans a lot, but no laughter."

She was quiet for a bit. Then, "Is mom a good cock-
sucker? Is that the right name for it?"

I chuckled. What a loaded question! How did women
always manage to ask questions that made you compare
them to each other? I was just about ready to answer
her, truthfully, when Janey interrupted. She had
sensed my quandary.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I'll rephrase the question. Do you
like the way mom gives head? Does she have a good

This time I laughed aloud. "First, the name `cock-
sucker' has kind of a bad taste to it. I wouldn't call
you or her that, no matter what. Second, your mom is
the absolute best, not that I have that much to compare
it to." I felt Sally shaking as I held her. She was
laughing, not having an orgasm.

"Third, it is not her technique that makes her the
best, although she is fantastic that way too. What
makes your mom so special is her attitude. She wants
to give me pleasure that way. It is her gift. I have
never asked her to do it."

My voice kind of tapered off at the end. Suddenly, a
light went off in my head. Attitude, not actions.
Attitude, not techniques. I needed a fucking attitude
adjustment. Fast.

Janey was thinking about what I had said, too. As she
was thinking, her head lowered toward my prick. She
continued her inspection from point-blank range. Her
inquisitive fingers pressed against the spongy head. A
clear drop of pre-cum grew at the slit at the top.

"What does it taste like, you know, that stuff that
spurts out?"

"I, uh, I don't know."

"Didn't you, you know, that time in the dungeon?"

"No." I cast about for a way to continue, "I failed my
Mistress that time."

She looked up at me, her face a question mark. I
explained my comment to her.

"When I was in the dungeon, I gave myself, gave over my
will, totally to your Mom. It was the only way I could
endure what was going on inside my head. Understand
that I did what I did willingly. And I would do it
again, if she asked me to. But in my mind, when I was
in the dungeon, I came to think of her as `Mistress,'
my owner. I still think of her in that way when I
remember what happened. She is my Mistress even now,
in many ways.

"When I was in the dungeon, at the end, I only tasted
the clear discharge a man makes at the beginning, the
pre-cum, at that time. All I can tell you about that
stuff is that it tasted `slippery', salty. But
sometimes, after your mom takes me in her mouth, we
will kiss, and I can detect a different taste that I
assume is a little of what I taste like. It isn't
awful or foul tasting or anything, but it is different.
Tangy, I guess."

"Oh. You don't like to talk about that time she did
all that stuff, do you?"

"It's OK, Honey. I'm just not exactly sure what
happened or how I feel about it sometimes. I do know
that a lot of good changes came out of that

"So, am I supposed to swallow that white stuff? Some
of the girls thought that would be gross, but they
hadn't done it, so they didn't know. Doesn't a guy pee out that hole, too?"

I played with the loose hairs on the back of her neck,
careful to not put any downward pressure on her head.
"Janey, Honey, you're not even supposed to have a cock
in your mouth unless you want it there. It should
always be your choice. Never let a guy try to tell you
he will be injured if he doesn't get relief. It
doesn't work that way.

"Second, it's up to you what you do with it. Spit or
swallow. It's your choice."

"What does mom do?"

"Does it matter?"

She thought about that.

"No. Not really."

That seemed to be the end of her questions as she was
silent for the rest of the ride. A lot of the content
she had already heard from her mom in their many talks.
I know Sally had been very thorough and more explicit
than I thought necessary.

I don't know if Janey just wanted a second opinion or a
man's perspective. Sally and I agreed in our approach
to sex and relationships in terms of giving and not
taking, of it being a shared experience, not one
forcing or coercing the other. I felt confident I had
not contradicted anything Sally may have told her.

Janey seemed content to hold and fondle my cock,
gaining a sense of its size, hardness, and strength.
One time she leaned forward and touched the tip of her
dainty tongue to the drop of pre-cum that had collected
at the pee-slit. After she had tasted that, she leaned
her head back on my stomach, apparently deep in
thought. I felt her shudder as the stimulators pushed
her over the edge of one climax after the other with
regularity. I was amazed she had been able to hold a
coherent conversation with all that shakin' going on.

We rode the rest of the way home without incident, in

We disembarked from the limo, and I walked Janey to the
front door. As this was still our first `date,' I took
her in my arms and gave her a good night kiss on the
porch in front of Sally. Janey returned the kiss and
sucked in my tongue greedily. That simple good night
kiss ended up leaving us both a little breathless. Her
enthusiasm was highly erotic.

I slipped my hand into my coat pocket and turned her
stimulators off. She gave a little whimper.

"Well, I guess the date is over. Right, Dad?" She
almost sounded disappointed.


She gave me another big hug. "Thank you. I had a good
time. You made me feel very special tonight. Good

With that, she gave me a chaste peck on the cheek and
let herself into the house. The door shut, leaving
Sally and me standing in the cool night air. I turned
to Sally.

"So, slave. How many times did you cum on the way
home? I didn't feel any. Am I loosing my touch?"

She looked up at me, trembling. "None, Sir. But I had
cum three times in the ladies room with Janey without
your permission. How did you know, Sir?"

It had been a damn lucky guess. I just smiled a
knowing smile at her. I think I almost fooled her.

"Anyway, since I had cum three times and you allowed me
three, I figured I couldn't allow myself any more,

I was not pleased with her response, but I had promised
her that she could choose her punishment. I was in
unfamiliar territory, and I think I overplayed the part
a bit. It didn't feel natural, but it was what I
thought a displeased master would act like. I was

I reached out to the clasps of her cape. I undid them
roughly, one by one, and jerked the cape off her
shoulders, exposing her naked body to the night air.
The nearest neighbor was 2 miles away, and the porch
was secluded. But it was still a shock to her to be
exposed outside of the house, outdoors. I towered over
her, backing her up against the front door. My eyes
were angry, and my tone harsh.

"First, slave, you don't think. You don't figure. You
do what I tell you, and only that. I gave you
permission to come three times in the car. You missed
out on that pleasure, slave. I already knew you had
cum without permission and you are going to be punished
for that.

"Second, by refusing to cum for me, you took away from
me the pleasure of pleasuring you, of bringing you to a
sweet release. You resisted my touches, you ignored my
commands, my caresses, squeezes and pinches. If you do
not wish my tender touches, you will get painful ones

"Third," and I softened, considerably, "I love you.
Deeply. Totally. For ever and ever." I kissed her
trembling lips. I wanted to ravish her then and there,
to fuck her on the porch. It was one of the few places
in her house we hadn't done it. But her fear was a
good indication it probably wasn't a good time. She
wasn't the only one frightened. We were on the
threshold of a new darkness. I didn't know if the
darkness contained an abyss or if it was just another
room in the house of our relationship. I took her in
my arms as I continued.

"Slave, my love, I promised you a punishment. I also
promised you that you could choose it. Here is the key
to the dungeon. Go get something for me to use, then
come back to the bedroom and we will continue."

I turned her around and set her arms free. She would
need them to get into the dungeon. We stood still for
a while as I massaged some feeling back into her stiff
upper limbs. When she was able to roll her shoulders
without grunting in pain, I opened the door and gave
her fanny a good smack to get her moving. She
literally ran into the house in her high heels, and all
the way to the basement. I thought I heard a sob a she
turned the first corner and went out of sight, but I
couldn't tell.

I made my way to our room, lost in thought. I was
confused, overwhelmed by the events of the evening with
Sally. They hadn't gone the way I had anticipated. I
was sitting on the edge of the bed when Janey called
out from the hallway.

"Dad, the date is officially over, right?"

"Yes, Honey. We said `Good Night' and everything. Why
do you ask?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to give you the impression I do
this on a `first' date."

With that, she slid, - oozed is a better term - around
the corner and into our bedroom. She had removed her
cocktail dress and her bra, leaving her in just the
wispy panties. She still had on the heels as well. My
prick hardened at the sight of her. I took in her
swaying breasts as she walked towards the bed. I
noticed she was staring at my crotch and that she was
licking her lips hungrily. Something made me stifle
any protest I should have made.

"Janey, Honey, I hope you never dress like that on any
date, other than your wedding night!"

She giggled and shimmied her young tits at me as she
came over. "Get real, Dad."

I hoped she was joking. What she did next made me
think she wasn't.

She knelt down in front of my feet. She placed her
hands on my knees and spread them, making room for her
to shuffle in closer. I could feel the scalding heat
of her breasts as they pressed into my inner thighs.
Her stiffened nipples felt as if they would rip the
fabric of my slacks.

She deftly opened my fly with a quick tug. My iron
hard prick sprang out, almost hitting her in the face.
Without a word, without hesitation, she opened her
mouth wide and swallowed as much of that iron shaft as
she could.

Like most beginners, she tried to take too much too
soon. Unlike most beginners, Janey had never accepted
failure in anything she tried to do. Her second
attempt to swallow the thick shaft was even more
determined. I felt the spongy head of my prick nudging
against her tonsils. Again she gagged. And again she
came back for more. Six times she tried to swallow me
whole. On the seventh, she did.

And she dug her fingernails sharply into the cloth
covering my thighs. She reared back her head, gasping
and shaking. Janey had just discovered one of the more
deviously placed pressure sensitive implants the Rosens
had put in. Thank God, she hadn't had a hold on my

"Dad! What in the hell was that?" She was shaken, but
definitely not displeased at her discovery.

"That's a little gift from the Drs. Rosen. They told
me about it after they were already in. They thought
you might enjoy it after they saw the length and size
of my equipment."

"Wow!" She caught her breath a minute. "So, how am I
doing so far, Dad?"

"Janey, you're doing fine. Outstanding, actually. But
remember, it's the attitude, not the technique. Just
watch the teeth. I admit you are the first person to
ever get that much of my prick in their mouth and down
their throat. Not even your mom had taken that much.
But don't tell her, OK? This isn't a competition. Not
that I wouldn't mind..."

"Oh, Daddy!" She giggled as she re-captured the fat
ruddy head in her mouth. As she began to bob up and
down, taking more of the shaft inside with each
downward stroke, I realized this was the actualization
of a major fantasy for me. I thought she should know.

"Janey, no, don't stop. Just listen. When you mom first proposed that I be a part of your, uh, sexual
education, I immediately got this mental picture in my
head. It was so erotic that I got an erection at a
very inappropriate moment and your mom almost called
the whole thing off. She almost kicked me out of the
house, for good. Fortunately, she didn't.

"Janey, the picture that came to my mind was exactly
this: You, naked, or nearly so, between my legs,
sucking on my cock. You were looking up at me, - Oh,
God, Yeah, Honey, just like that - and you moved your
head up and down the length of my hard shaft. It was
erotic then, but it is nothing compared to the real

I thrust my hips forward, burying my cock head deep
into her elastic throat. I spasmed once, twice, three,
four, five times. A large gob of pearly white semen
surged into her esophagus with each butt-clenching
throb. Spent, I sagged back on the bed.

She continued sucking on me until she had the last
drop. Then, sliding her breasts up my body, she
brought her face up to meet mine. She pressed her lips
against my sealed lips. I knew what she had in mind.
I opened my eyes and looked directly into hers. She
was not demanding I kiss her, only offering me the
opportunity. I don't know why, but I kissed her,
opening my mouth to hers.

I felt a stringy substance pass from her mouth to mine
as she bathed my mouth with her tongue. I tasted
myself fully for the first time and didn't gag. It
would have ruined the moment.

Janey then proceeded to swab my tonsils and mouth with
her tongue, removing as much of the transferred jism as
she could. She pushed herself up on her hands, moving
away from my face. She made a big show of swallowing
the contents of her mouth. I collapsed back onto bed.
I felt her slip my pecker back into my pants and then
close the fly.

"Bye, lover," she lilted.

"Bye, sweets. Thank you for your gift. Next time it's
your turn."

Her eyes widened at the thought of me eating her out.
"Now?" came hopefully

"No. Next time. I'll let you know, don't worry."

She had a pleased smile on her face as she slipped out
of the room and made her way back down the hall to her
own. Something other than my cum had passed between us
just then. An understanding of sorts.

I was still smiling contentedly when Sally slipped
silently back into the room.

That smile froze in place as she handed me a short,
stiff crop. I recognized it as the one from Amud's
shop. This one could really hurt. I had tried it out
against my leg once and the stripe had lasted more than
a week, almost as long as my howling did.

But even as her choice of the implement for her
punishment chilled me, her next movements numbed me to
the bone. She moved silently and surely over to her
makeup table and picked up the backless bench she sat
on when she did her makeup. She moved the bench to the
center of the room.

She knelt with her back to the bench and bent backward
over the bench. She reached under the bench with her
arms and grasped her ankles with her hands. She was
bowed backward over the bench, tense. Her breasts were
presented in a most alluring fashion. Had I not had a
whip in my hand, I would have taken this as an
invitation to tit-fuck her. Even with the whip I
considered it seriously.

As it was, I was trembling. I hadn't been this shaky-
shit scared since I drove my Dad's car into the lake.

This was it. I raised my arm and took a trial swing in
the air. The sounds of the stiff leather whistling
through the air terrified me, and I was the one holding
the crop! All I could think of was how much this would
hurt my lover. It was not so much that I might hurt her, I knew it would do that. It was that I might
injure her, do damage. I could not bear to mark her
lovely skin. I was torn. I could not bring myself to
do this. But I had promised.

I didn't say a word as I stood up and moved to one
side. I didn't' trust myself to speak. Sally had her
eyes closed, which was just as well, as I was crying
like a baby. I made a tentative swat at her upthrust
mounds, her chosen targets for this pain. The sound of
the crop slapping against that tender flesh sounded
like a cannon going off in my head. I almost dropped
the crop and ran. But something was sneaking around in
the back of my head. I thought I sensed something from
her at the exact moment the crop touched her, but I
wasn't sure. It was like it came through the crop,
talking to me. Sally had said nothing. She didn't
even flinch.

I swatted again. Again half-heartedly. Two down,
three to go. I thought I just might make it through
this without killing her. Then I realized she wasn't'
counting the strokes like I had told her to. In
frustration, I cried out at her,

"You're supposed to be counting, Damn it!"

She replied in a calm voice. "I will count if you ever
strike me, Sir." And then she braced herself, waiting
for what she must have known was going to happen. She
was trying to make me mad, taunting my weakness. She
almost succeeded.

I dropped the tip of the trembling crop so that it just
touched her flesh. It wasn't a blow, the end was just
resting on her. But the effect on me was electrifying.
Suddenly, it was as if I could sense her thoughts. But
they weren't really thoughts. It was more as if I
could sense her needs, her cravings. I understood she
needed to be disciplined. By me. By her master. Not
because she was bad. But because I loved her and she
had displeased me. Whatever it was that I felt, it
also let me know just how hard to bring the crop down.
I could sense what she needed, how much pain, and
where. It was as if we were one.

I went with the feelings, followed the ethereal
urgings. I never knew I raised my arm. The crop came
down. Thunder exploded in the silence of the room. It
was louder than the gunshot when she had dropped my gun
on the bed. The flaming red welt it left crossed the
tops of both breasts on the soft fleshy middle part.

"One. Thank you, Sir." How she managed not to shout,
scream, yell, or holler, I don't know.


"Two. Thank you, Sir."

Swoosh. CRACK!!

"OH! Three! Th-thank you, Sir."


There was a sharp intake of breath this time. I let
the tip of the crop rest on her chest, feeling her
pain, her exhilaration, her neediness for this.

"F-f-ffffour... Thank you. M-m-mas, S-Sir!"

I let her steel herself for the final blow. I sensed
from within her that she knew this one would be the
worst, the culmination of all the preceding blows. It
was what she needed

When I sensed she was ready, I released my arm to the
essence that we had become. I know I was the one
holding and moving the whip, but it was as if someone
or something else was guiding it, aiming it, and
applying the right amount of force. I watched,
fascinated, as the crop whistled down and landed,
bisecting the other four. Two of them had landed above
her erect nipples. That they were erect, fully
aroused, struck me as odd. The other two welts were
spaced evenly below her turgid nipples. The fifth blow
landed directly over those sensitive buds of flesh.
She arched her back even tighter than it was in the
position she was in.

"FIVE! OH, MY MASTER!" she shouted and fainted dead

I rushed to her and picked up my lover, her limp form
draping over my arms, tears streaming down my face.
Her head and feet hung down on either side. Without
banging her head on the door, I carefully rushed her
into the bathroom and eased her down into the large
bathtub. I climbed in behind her, supporting her head
on my shoulder. I started the water with my feet, set
the temperature at just shy of scalding, and let the
tub fill around us.

The hot water diluted the flood of my tears as I rocked
and crooned to my love, swaying gently back and forth
as one would with a sick or injured child. I felt as
if my heart were breaking. The discipline, the pain
she had just accepted far outweighed anything she had
done to displease me. I had been insensitive to her
needs. I had not taken my responsibilities seriously
and I now had injured her.

I looked down through my tears and saw the angry welts
that striped her ivory flesh. I attempted to cup them,
to massage the pain away, but I couldn't bring myself
to even caress that sore flesh. I settled for cupping
my hand around them, almost but not touching, sensing
the aura of them. I sensed pain, aching, and,
surprisingly, relief.

The water rose over our bodies and the automatic
shutoff stopped the flow of water into the tub. Her
sore tits were submerged, and floated softly in the
steamy water. We lay like that for sometime, allowing
the scalding water to soak the pain from her skin. Her
breathing evened out, no longer catching in small gasps
and sobs. Finally, after an eternity, I felt her stir.

Her first action was to check to see if her collar was
still on. Her hand slowly rose, at first I thought to
check her breasts. But her hand kept rising, until her
fingertips lightly caressed the symbol of her
servitude. In all that went on, I had not even thought
of taking off the collar. She moved her arms slowly,
as if it hurt to move. I could well imagine it would.
As she ran her fingers lightly over the sparking
necklace, I could feel her contentment grow.

She continued to lay there, her back to my chest. I
cannot describe what happened during that time, but I
think we became more one than we were two. Our
brainwaves synched, something. Her deep contentment
spilled over onto me. She wouldn't let me feel guilt
anymore. What I had done was my right as her Master.

I didn't pretend to understand. And, typical of a
woman, just as I was feeling as if I understood what
was going on, she shocked me again.

"I've made you ruin your suit, Master."

"Ssshhh. Quiet. It's OK." Huh? Where in the Hell
did that come from? My suit? I couldn't have cared
less. I had just about ripped her tits off, and she's
worried about my suit!

She was quiet for a while, then, in almost a whisper.
"Thank you, Master."

Feeling is one thing, hearing it is another. Her
obvious gratitude was too much for me. I burst out
crying, sobbing into the back of her hair. She let me
cry myself out.

"Master, may I speak freely?"

"Yes, my love. You know you can always speak freely to

She took a deep breath to steady herself and then
plunged into a long lecture. I listened.

"Master, I am sorry, but I had to make you hurt me like
that. I did it on purpose. I knew that if I didn't
force you to do it, you would never do that to me, to
whip my tits. You are so careful with me and I know
you adore them. I adore your adoration of them. So I
choose for you to hurt me there. That is what took me
so long in the dungeon. I was not looking forward to
the pain of being tit-whipped with a crop. I had to
build up my courage to force you to go through with

"I also tried to make you angry with me, to make you
strike me in anger. I was kind of angry with you,
Master. You were not being serious with me. You acted
as if we were playing a game. So I intentionally
taunted you. I was trying to make you mad.

"If you had struck me in anger, then I would have had a
reason to never submit myself to you again, ever. I
understood that it would have meant we would eventually
be torn apart, as I have this need to submit to my
Master. I don't know what it is, but it is a part of
me, just as eating or breathing. I don't need it all
the time, just occasionally. But it is there,

"Master, you must never let a slave, this slave
especially, choose the punishment. For me, your
displeasure, even in jest, is too much for me to bear.
This slave lives to serve you, for your pleasure alone.
Because I had displeased you so greatly, well, that was
another reason I had to choose the worst punishment I
could imagine for myself. I felt as if I deserved that
and more. I thought about what you said on the porch,
when you were angry with me. I thought at first you
were not being serious again, but there was something
else there, too. Like you were trying too hard to be
what you thought I would think a Master would be. And
what you said, about me stealing your pleasure from you
by resisting your arousing touches; that was more true
than I think you knew. I almost decided to end this
evening, until I remembered you said that. It showed
me that you grasped at least some of the basics, that
down deep, you just might understand what this was
about. I heard what you said to Janey about your time
in the dungeon, about submitting to my will.

"Master, when I am your slave that is exactly how I am.
I am yours completely. If you treat that lightly, I
will be ... I am crushed. I would rather be
humiliated, stripped in public, made to perform like an
animal, with an animal, even, than be brushed off

"Master, to be my Master, you do not have to put on an
act. Just be who you are. Be sure of what you are. I
crave your demands on me, I long to do what you
command. But you can still love me as you are
accustomed to doing. I adore your touch, whether
tender or harsh. I need them both. Your sweet
caresses are so honest, so pure that they melt my
heart. Your firm hand in disciplining me just now
fires my blood. I have never felt so alive.

"Yes, it hurts, but only for the moment. For certain
it hurts less than an angry or careless word from you,
and for not nearly as long. I will wear these stripes
proudly. I earned them, and, more important, they are
from my master's hand.

"If you allow it, I wish to show them to Bala on their
visit the day after tomorrow. Not to make her jealous,
though secretly she will be, but because I am proud of
what you are becoming. She had a crush on you, I
think, Master. She is very happy with Amud, but your
raw power thrills a part of her he cannot touch.

"Master, oh, my Master! I had it all carefully planned
out. Forgive this slave for being so presumptuous. I
know you told me not to think, but I wanted so much for
this to be real for us. I wanted to give you one more
chance. And then something happened...

"Master? What happened to you? To us? I taunted you,
I felt your sudden anger, and then, all of a sudden,
you were in me, in my mind. You filled me, possessed
me as no one ever has. You knew what I needed, you
understood. I felt the fear flow out of me and out of
you, too. I am sorry I made you afraid. Master, were
you afraid for me? That I would be hurt? That would
be just like you, you know. You are so gentle and

"And then I felt your strength, your tremendous power,
your goodness. I felt you release yourself, to let
your fear go. Did you feel it, too?

"And then you whipped me, Master. Oh, Master, it was
wonderful! I could feel your love beating into me with
each searing stroke of the crop. Did you know I came
each time you whipped me? Especially the last one.
Forgive me, again, but I have never experienced orgasms
like that. Perhaps one day you will explain all of the
places the good doctors hid their wonderful little
toys. You did not give me permission to cum, Master.
Perhaps you should punish me again?"

She steeled herself, I could feel her resolve, and then
she raised herself up and away from my chest. With a
grace that would make a Polar bear envious, she rolled
over so that we were facing each other. Without a
splash. She pulled her knees up under her and
positioned her legs between mine.

With sure hands, she loosened the wet cloth of my fly,
and dug out the flaccid length of my cock. She took a
deep breath and immersed her face, sucking the entire
length into her mouth. Her gentle ministrations
produced the predictable effect and the swelling,
lengthening shaft eventually forced her face out of the
water. She continued bobbing on the shaft, until it
had reached its full hardness.

Sally then rose up slightly, lifting her head to look
me directly in the eye. We locked gazes. She held my
eyes as if in a vice as she took her own hands and
cupped her injured breasts. I felt the searing pains
she felt as she forced my fierce hardness between her
pliant orbs and gave me the tit-fucking I had thought
about earlier.

"How? How did you know I was thinking about doing this
to you?"

She smiled that vague, mysterious smile women have.
Then she let me off the hook.

"I was peeking. I watched you in the mirror. This was
really hard on you, wasn't it?"

I nodded, shamed by her tenderness.

"Poor baby. Let mommy make it all better..." She
tipped her head down and lightly kissed the head of my
cock on the upstroke through her tit-meat. When she
looked back at me, she was serious again. The love
light never left her eyes as she moved her hands,
forcing her striped tits up and down around her
master's staff.

Our eyes never left the others' as she gave me this
tender, painful gift, the gift of a slave to her
master. To refuse her would have been to crush her

I let myself go, released myself into her gift. I
reached out, thinking I could ease the searing pain in
her breasts. But when I sensed her, I found that she
was reveling in her pain, her badge of honor. So
instead of taking, I gave to her. I let her feel my
pride in her, of my gratitude for her love, for the
acknowledgement of the lesson she had taught me. I let
her feel the depth of my sorrow, and she drew it out
and away from me. She allowed me no sorrow, no regrets
for her pain.

When I came, she caught my essence in her mouth,
covering the spewing cap, sealing the leaks with her
ruby lips.

Before she could swallow it all, I lifted her up to me
and kissed her fiercely on the mouth. Her eyes opened
in surprise as I shared the remainder of my cum with
her, savoring and then swallowing for the first time
the strange-tasting substance. Her single raised
eyebrow queried me for a reason for this sudden change.
I just smiled at her and kissed her again, softly.

We lay together like that for a long time, finally
emerging with prune-like wrinkles all over.

Sally insisted on wearing her collar to bed that night.
For a slave, she was very demanding sexually, more so
than when she was not subservient. She was not
satisfied until I had cum into every orifice, crevice,
crack and cavity of her body. She discovered the same
implants deep in her throat that Janey had discovered
earlier in the evening. She found others even I hadn't
known about. At least, I think they were implants.
Might it have been love? When she was covered from her
perky nose to her sexy toes in a sticky coat of my cum,
only then did she lie quietly beside me.

I listened to her rhythmic breathing, wondering at this
intricate woman and the direction our lives were now
headed. I wondered at the unknown destination, as
well. I felt as if we had crossed a major hurdle
tonight, but I knew that several more remained. My
mind, although relaxed, went over and over the events
that had brought us to this point, reviewing and
remembering. I don't remember falling asleep.

We slept late, well into the next afternoon.

Chapter 26

I woke up slowly the next morning to the soft whispers
between a mother and daughter. It had been a taxing
night, both physically and mentally. My head still
felt as if it was a sheep turned inside out, so I
decided to just lie there with my eyes closed. I
drifted in and out of consciousness as the two women in
my life shared confidences. I didn't feel as if I was
eavesdropping, as they knew I was lying right there
between them.

I cracked one eye and peeked out at the cruel, bright
world. Sally and Janey were both kneeling at about
where my knees were. They were facing each other,
holding hands across my legs in an almost romantic
gesture. Two blonde goddesses, and nude, except for a
skimpy bikini bottom on Janey.

I reached out with my newly discovered mental talent
and tried to sense the moods of the two. I didn't want
to be crude or heavy-handed and barge right in. I just
tried to get as close to them as I could. It took a
great effort to use a soft touch. Heavy-handed is
easier. Shoot first, the Hell with the questions.
Gradually, I was able to feel that Sally was very
content. I wasn't sure, though, as it was like tasting
colors. I was still trying to learn what meant what.
What I thought she felt, though, was contentment.

Janey's picture, or aura, was more turbulent, with
brighter, hungrier colors; nothing serious that I could
sense, but somewhat unfulfilled. After the unrequited
arousal she had gone through last night, I assumed she
was just horny. I was surprised she hadn't used her
fingers or something phallic on herself, but somehow I
knew she hadn't. She continued to talk to her Mom.
Sally, I think, had sensed that I was awake by now,
although I hadn't touched her mind, or moved. There
was so much I had to learn about this stuff. Too, she
was an incredibly perceptive woman.

"You're still wearing the collar. Wouldn't he let you
take it off?"

"It was the other way around. I wouldn't let him
remove it."

"Doesn't it bother you? It looks kind of tight."

"No. I don't mind. In fact, I want to wear it all the
time now. Last night was, well, last night he became
my Master. Janey, I don't know if you will ever
understand, but if you could only have one thing in
life, my wish for you, with all my heart, is that you
find that one special man. That guy you can love as I
love my Master. When it all comes down to the bottom
line in life, nothing else matters.

"Didn't he beat you last night?" I could sense Janey
was really uncomfortable about what had happened. The
last time her mother had gotten involved in this stuff,
it had just about destroyed both of them.

"Janey, shame on you! You know what happened. You
heard it, and you sensed it. You enjoyed it, too, if I
remember right. No?"

"Well, yeah, kind of. But those look like they would
really hurt. Would you let him do it again?"

"No. I would not `let' him. I would, no I will, beg
him to do it again, though. As often as he desires."


"Because he is my Master. I am his, to love, to whip,
even to sell, if he desires."

"You're not serious. Sell?"

"Yes, he has that option. But if I know my Master, he
would not even consider that. He would die first."

"Did he enjoy punishing you? I mean, did he get a, you
know, a, uh..."

"Hard-on? Woody? Stiffy? Erection?"

"Yeah. One of those."

"Janey. Get used to seeing it. Get used to talking
about sex, too. It's going to be a big part of our
lives, yours included. I don't know what he has
planned for you, but I trust him with you, that he will
do the right thing. He is so tender and sweet. He was
like a little boy last night who thought he had
accidentally hurt his new puppy. He cried. He is
trying so hard to please me. I kind of made him

"But the answer to your question is `No,' he didn't get
excited when he was punishing me. He only got hard
when I took him in my mouth. I just about drowned
doing it, too." She looked hard at Janey. "By the
way, you wouldn't have had anything to do with him
being soft, would you? I thought I tasted something
strange on him."

"He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what? Did he fuck you? It didn't quite taste
like that."

"If he didn't tell you, maybe he doesn't want you to

"Janey, I'm your mother. Besides, we don't talk about
you all the time, you know. Now tell me what

"Well, when you were downstairs, I came in and, well,
did him."

"Did him how?"

"With my mouth. Well, my mouth and a lot of my


"Yeah. Those doctors put one of those gizmos down
there too, did you know that? It took me by surprise,
but I really didn't mind. In fact, I kept that fat
part (the head?) down there almost the whole time,
after that. Could you really tell just from the

"You bet I could tell. He's my man. Don't you ever
forget it. Mine! You can borrow him from time to
time, but he is mine. And yes, I found out about that
one last night, too. My Master has a real soft streak
in him. Soft, but twisted! Do you know he had them
put them in my tits, too. I came so hard last night
when he hit me there that I passed out. I know they
are around my asshole. He probably had them put them
all over the place. I'm beginning to wonder if there
is any place he can touch us, fuck us or hit us where
we won't enjoy it. So did you like taking him in your
mouth, other than that?"

"Uh-huh. I even swallowed his, uh, stuff. And I
kissed him after and shared it with him, too. I don't
think he was sure about doing that, letting his own
stuff into his mouth, but he did it. It made me feel
special when he did that, you know? That he would do
something I asked him to do even though he didn't want

Sally laughed quietly. "Oh, now it makes sense. He
did the same thing with me, later. He kissed me while
I still had some of his cum in my mouth. He really
sucked hard and I couldn't keep it from him. I
couldn't figure out why he did that. He'd never done
that before. Now I know. He must have sensed how
special it made you feel and wanted me to feel the same

They sat there quietly for a while. Then Janey got
down to the real question.

"Mom, what does it feel like, really? I mean, I could
tell when you had an orgasm, and when you were afraid,
just at the beginning, and stuff. But, what did it do
to you? All that pain! And right there, too. I, uh,
I tried it a little myself last night, I hit myself
with my school ruler, and all it did was hurt. What
did I do wrong? Does he do something special? But,
really, Mom, how could you stand it?"

"I noticed the stripes and meant to ask you about them.
I was almost wondering if Larry did that, but I
couldn't believe he would. Don't do that again, OK?
Not by yourself or until you're sure that's what you
want. It isn't the same. I know because I tried to do
myself too after I kicked Gary out. I don't know if I
can tell you what it feels like. You almost have to go
through it yourself to know. But I'll try, OK?

"First, my Master is becoming a very powerful Master.
He can `see' things. Better than you and I link up,
too. I can sense him a little, but he seems to be able
to reach out and take me over completely. I don't
think he really knows yet what's going on. It kind of
scares him, this new power. I think it surprised him a
little last night. It may have been the first time he
intentionally experienced it. But whatever, it was
like he was hooked up to my brain when he touched the
end of the crop to me.

"I don't think he knows it, but after the first couple
of lame attempts to strike me, he rested just the tip
of the riding crop against my stomach. Then he just
stood there for what seemed like about 30 minutes. I
was beginning to be concerned for him, that he was
having a fit, or something, and suddenly I felt him in
me, inside me, in my head. It was like he was getting
to know me, what he could do to me, just how far to
push, how hard to hit. He was very careful to make me
feel safe. I miss him being in there now.

"Second, I had displeased my Master. He made an error
in letting me choose my punishment, but he made it
right later. I don't know what the actual whipping did
to me. I remember the pain. I also remember being
turned on even more. I was incredibly, powerfully
aroused. I made him fuck my tits in the bathtub
afterwards. I think that hurt him more than it did me,
and I just about passed out from the pain. But I was
so turned on. I still am. I wish he would open his
eyes so we could fuck some more."

"Geeze, Mom! Didn't you get enough last night? When
are you two going to act your age? I couldn't get to
sleep with all that racket, not to mention having to
feel your orgasms, too. What were there, ten, twenty?"

As Sally had talked about how horny she still was, I
`knocked' on the door of her mind, letting her know I
was awake. She moved down and lay beside me on her
side her breasts nestled into my side. She pulled the
sheet up over her. I could feel her waiting, quivering
in anticipation of my command.

In response to Janey's last question, all I heard from
Sally was a purring, like a contented kitten. That low
pitched sound struck a nerve, an erotic one to boot. I
didn't think I had another erection in me, Dr. Wang's
operation or no. But that contented purring continued
and I was at full mast, tenting the silk top sheet.

"Uh, Mom? Uh, I think Daddy's, uh, `up'."

"Oh, goody!"

With that, we erupted in giggles and guffaws, until
another hot body wiggled under the sheet and I felt a
warm moist mouth slide over the top and down the shaft
of my penis.

"Hey, go find your own. This one's mine!"

Janey raised herself up off my cock. "But I need the
practice. Besides, you had enough last night. You
won't admit it, but he outlasted you, not the other way
around." An impish grin showed itself from under the
sheet. "How's it feel, huh? Must be the first time
you got everything you needed, huh?"

She dove back down on my prick, now slippery with her
saliva. Then, "Mmmmm, good! You guys taste kind of
good together."

I turned my head and opened my eyes to look at my love.
She was breathtakingly beautiful.

She smiled up at me seriously. "Good morning, Master.
I hope we didn't wake you too soon." Her lustrous eyes
looked up at me. I had never seen her so content. She
was fingering her collar absently with one hand, the
other was lightly tracing the welts across her chest.
They still looked angry.

"Good morning, my love." I bent my head to her and
kissed her softly. She gasped as if an electric shock
went through her.

"Did Janey see what I, uh, what we did last night?"
Sally nodded. "Is she OK with it?"

Sally's face clouded over, and she turned her head away
from me as she answered.

"What was that, my love? I didn't hear you."

She turned back to face me, her face torn, a puzzle of
conflicting emotions. When she spoke she whispered so
that the two little ears on the head busy at my cock
couldn't hear. "She didn't say it out loud, and she
may not know it herself, but I can somehow sense, I
know somehow that she wants you to do the same thing to
her, too. In fact, she... she ... Oh, God! Master? I
don't know what to do! She is so much like me that I'm
frightened for her almost more now than after she was

My normally competent, rock-solid Sally dissolved into
a puddle of tears. It was obvious I wasn't going to
get anything more from her, so I went to the source.



"Janey, put the toy away. Daddy wants to speak with
you." I said with mock seriousness.

"Awww. Do I have to?" she teased. Then she wiggled
her firm flesh up my torso so that her head was just
out of the sheet. This action placed the head of my
cock right at the entrance of her cunt. She teasingly
wiggled her butt as if to slide down on it. The flimsy
material of her panties had bunched up to one side. I
wondered if this was by intent or accident, but I had a
hunch she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Janey. Do NOT move another inch! Not one wiggle."
My tone left no room for playfulness. She got the hint
and rolled to her side, still pressing her luscious
tits into my bare chest.

"Yes, Daddy? You wanted to talk to me?" she asked
innocently. I would have to remember how good an
actress she was. I had just pulled her off my cock,
and I still almost believed she was an innocent little
girl. God help me!

"Uh, do you have any idea what made your mom so upset?"

"Nooo!" was her wide-eyed innocent response. I just
came in to talk with her this morning. She had a great
time last night, Dad. She came so hard. I came, too,
just from our connection. And then she didn't stop,
but just kept on cumming and cumming and cumming." She
raised her self up on her hands as she was speaking.
As I saw those rubbery mounds exposed to the afternoon
light, I saw what had unsettled Sally.

Thin, red lines tracked across her ivory skin. Criss-
crossing the succulent orbs. Lots of them. More than
I had imagined during their whispered talk. Sally had
kept her poise rather well, I thought. I raised a
finger to track the lines.

"Oh, Janey! Did you do this?" I already knew, but I
wanted her to tell me.

"Uh-huh. When I heard you do it to her, I hated you at
first. She felt so afraid. And then, WHAM!" She
clapped her hands together for effect. I enjoyed
watching the jiggling repercussions. "She went from
afraid to out of this world in love with you. And then
you hit her. And she just went out." She made an
exploding motion with her hands. "Poof!"

"But, why did you do that to yourself. Didn't it

She hung her head. "Uh-huh."

"Then why didn't you stop?" But I already knew the
answer to that, too. She didn't know how to fail. She
just kept trying, and trying, and trying. God, how
that must have hurt her.

"I just wanted to feel just a little bit of what mom felt. But all it did was hurt."

"Are you going to be alright?"

She shook her head `yes'. "I think so. mom said she
had some stuff to put on them."

I must have been asleep for that part. Probably just
as well. I don't think I could have just lain there,
knowing she was in pain.

"Daddy?" I knew what was coming, but I couldn't hide.
"Would you, could we, well, I want to try that, you
know, what you did to Mom. I think."

I looked at Sally for help. She gave none. She was
watching me for my decision. Her calm demeanor rattled
me. If I made the wrong choice, Oh shit. But was
there even a right choice?

I copped out. I did what any red-blooded male would do
when given the option. I decided to see just how much
she wanted it. I was going to test her AND make her
wait. And if that didn't dissuade her, well then, God
help us all.

I hadn't thought of taking this whole submission thing
all that seriously before, but now I was thanking my
foresight to prepare. I had made several purchases,
thinking the girls might want to role-play a bit as
slave and Master. But now, with Sally reluctant to
give up any of her hard fought territory and Janey
wanting to take a serious look at being a submissive, I
decided that now was as good of a time as any for the
next step. Or was it a leap off a precipice?

I turned back to Janey. "Well, young lady. If you'll
move those fabulous tits and let me up for a moment, I
have some more presents for you."

"Oh, Daddy! You're terrible. But," she looked over at
Sally, "Thank You!"

I swear she was positive I was changing the subject and
ignoring her request, but combine the word `present'
with a woman's curiosity, and you can get away with
just about anything. It may be their only weakness.

I slipped out of bed and went over to my dresser. I
retrieved two slender boxes from my jewelry drawer. I
had hidden them in the open. Another trick, guys. If
you want them to find it, hide it.

I walked back and stood by the bed. Both of their
tousled blonde heads followed me. Good. I had their

"My love. Kneel!" I indicated a spot in front of me
and to my right.

Sally moved immediately to kneel in front of me on the
spot I indicated.

"Would you care to join us?" I asked Janey.

She bounced off the bed and landed with a `thump' on
the floor. It was a fantastic sight, and my prick
twitched in appreciation of all that flesh in mo-mo-mo-
motion. Sally saw my reaction and started to laugh.
She tried to cover with a cough, but all that came out
was a `snort'. Very unladylike. But the show must go

"Yes, well. Nice landing, kid. Knock yourself out."
This time Sally did laugh, guffaw, really, which she
choked off quickly. She looked up at me shocked,
panicked, as if I would be upset at her for laughing at
my joke. I reached down and stoked her cheek with the
back of my hand. We had a lot of details to iron out.
Janey knelt there with a confused look on her face.
She didn't seem to have the faintest notion of the show
she had just put on for me.

As they were both facing me, away from the bed, I
stepped between them and turned, sitting down on the
bed. I reached for the clasp of Sally's bejeweled

"Oh, Master. Please. No. Don't." She was

"Shhhh. Quiet, my love. As much as this is a
beautiful piece of jewelry, paling only in comparison
to you, it is a bit impractical to wear it around the
house, no?" I took the first box and opened it. "I
think this one will be more comfortable and practical
while still serving the same purpose."

I slipped the broad leather band I had had Amud make
for Sally around her neck. He had seemed to know just
what I needed. Or maybe he knew what she needed. It
fit perfectly, just a bit snug. It was a constant
reminder of her submission to me, her Master. The dark
leather made a startling contrast against her light
skin. In the front center was small medallion. It was
a silver disk with an emerald green ceramic inlay
showing two hands bound together at the wrist. The
loose ends of the rope were in the shape of a stylized
letter `S'.

I fastened the collar at the back of her neck. The
solid click seemed to enervate her and I could feel her
trembling. "I have the only key to the lock on this
collar, my love. This collar doesn't come off until I
decide." I touched her shoulder to indicate she should
bend over, bowing down her face to the floor. "This is
what I have decided.

"You are mine, my love, forever. I love you with all
my heart and will do my best to be the Master you
deserve. Do not feel guilty for this change in our
relationship. You have not forced me to do this, this
is my choice. I have never felt like this before,
never felt this powerful before. I have you, my love,
to thank."

I took the second box and took another collar from it.
I lifted Janey's blonde hair out of the way and slipped
it around her neck. Her collar buckled with a pair of
sturdy snaps. Her collar was identical to her
mother's, with the exception that the ceramic was royal
blue and the ropes formed a `J'. Janey turned to thank

"Eyes front!"

She stopped, frozen. I hadn't used that tone with her
before, but she knew instinctively better than to
disobey or make wise. She turned back and settled
uncertainly on her knees.

I sat quietly behind them for a while. I toyed with
the soft skin along Janey's shoulders and twirled the
errant hairs as I sat there. Janey began to fidget,
nervous in the silence. I saw Sally's hand slide
slowly over to her daughter and grasp her hand. I was
almost jealous. They had each other to help each other
through this learning time. I was on my own and at
that moment, didn't have a clue of where I was going.
I only knew that this `felt' right.

I had a short, heated argument with myself about
rebelling against going with my feelings. God, I hated
that. I had always associated a person who made
decisions based on their feelings with wimpy suck-faces
and mama's boys. Not something I associated with my
own self-image. It was my opinion that if you didn't
know what to do, how the fuck were you supposed to feel
your way through?

Now, here I was, feeling my way along. But, in my
defense, these were really strong feelings. I didn't
understand it, but it was as if I was hooked in to
Sally's head and body and soul and spirit. Janey's
too, but in a lesser way. That link fluctuated. Right
now it was coming in loud and clear. I plowed on, into
the unknown following the faintly lighted path in front
of me.

"Janey, before you agree to wear this collar, I want
you to understand what it means. When you choose wear
this collar, you will obey me without question, without
hesitation. When you have the collar on, your purpose,
your only focus is my pleasure. Not yours. You will
be allowed to have sexual release when I decide. In
addition, whatever, I repeat, whatever I wish to do to
you or have you do, you will do. And you will enjoy it
for the sole reason that I wished for you to do it.
Your mother can explain that better to you later.

"Your personality will not cease to exist. You will
still be the `Janey' I know and love. I expect you to
be curious and playful, as you are now. I will not
accept less than your best effort at whatever I have
you do, and I know you are very, very good at
everything you do. I will also not accept less than
your total obedience. You may question me if you do
not understand something. I expect that. You may make
suggestions that you think you, or others would enjoy
or benefit from. But when I have made up my mind, you
may not question my decisions or commands. I will be
as precise as possible in my commands. Follow what I
say exactly.

"I will not hurt you in any way. By that, I do not
mean I will not cause you to experience pain. If you
accept my collar, you will feel pain. If you disobey,
the consequences will be particularly painful. At
other times, it may please me to torment you. Perhaps
without giving you the pleasure your mom felt last
night. But know that that pain will pass, your body
will heal.

"What I meant when I said I will not hurt you was that
I will not break your spirit. If anything, I will try
to build you up, make you stronger. You have already
been hurt once, very badly. I could not bear to do
that to you myself, to cause you that kind of pain.

"I will not break your heart or cause you that kind of
pain. I love you, Janey, and would give my life for
you. But it is not like I love your mother. Our
relationship may be sexual, yes you can stop worrying
about that. But that can make this real complicated for
a beautiful young girl. I know it confuses the Hell
out of me!

"Your collar snaps on. It is not permanent. That is
intentional. It is a reminder to me and you that
someday, you will take this collar off and move on.
When you are ready. I also want you to be very clear
that if, at any time, you feel overwhelmed, if you
sense the blackness reaching up to grab you, or if
there is something I ask of you that you are not ready
to do, you can reach back and unsnap it.

"I will not be your Master and you will not address me
that way. Our relationship will not be what your
mother's and mine is." I thought fast. "I remember
one of my instructors telling me that the Japanese word
for Master is `Sensei', but that it also means
`teacher.' Use that when you speak to me."

I sat back. "Any questions so far?"

Hesitantly, she turned to me, waiting for the rebuke
that didn't come. "Sensei." She tried out the word,
letting it slip off her tongue. "I like that." She
smiled, irrepressibly. "So what are you going to call
me? You don't call mom `Sally' when she has her collar
on. You call her Love, or My Love. Gushy." She
paused, then when the time was right, "Are you going to
call me `Grasshopper', like in the "Kung Fu" tv series?" I saw Sally shaking, silently laughing at her
offspring's audacity.

I laughed, too. "Well, that may be a bit plagerous.
But how about `Cricket'? You know, I do like the
sounds you make when you rub your legs together..." I
said, lecherously.

"Daa... Sensei!" She blushed a deep red, but she was
pleased, both at the comment and for her slave name.
Suddenly she grinned a mischievous grin, and looked at
me questioningly. When I simply looked back at her,
she lay back flat on the floor, and began what had to
be one of the most sensuous movements of her legs I had
ever seen. With each scissor-like move her upper legs
brushed over each other. With an athletic twist at one
point in the arc, she was able to apply pressure to her
excitable clitoris. She stopped and started a couple
of times until she had the moves down, and then began
to masturbate, using her legs alone. I watched her for
a while, enjoying her building sexual tension as she
stimulated herself with the rhythmic motions. Then I
popped the bubble.

"Cricket? Remember, you may only cum when I say you
can cum. I insist on that." She stopped in mid-moan.
"But don't stop what you're doing. Please continue.
It is most erotic. It pleases me to watch you."

She blushed again. The coloring became her. I hoped
she never lost that part of her character. Janey was
confused at my request and didn't know what to do at
first. Finally she continued, her pace a bit slower.


"Am I being punished?"

"Are you in pain?"

"No, of course not." Her breathing was getting ragged.

I waited. She was bursting with questions. I intended
to enjoy this situation to the fullest so I tapped
Sally on her back and motioned for her to take my
throbbing shaft in her mouth. She quickly raised
herself from her bowed posture and took her place.
Engulfing my cock head in her hot mouth, she held

She groaned in absolute pleasure as I pushed down on
her head, giving her permission to move her head, to
service me. She wrapped both her arms around my waist
possessively, her fingers tickling that certain spot in
the small of my back that always seemed to respond to
her fingers. I thrust my hips forward reflexively,
forcing more of myself down her throat. I wound my
hands in her hair and fucked her head up and down,
establishing a tempo that would keep me hard for a long
time. I went deep into her throat, setting off the
implants. She shuddered. I felt scalding tears wash
down my inner thighs. I searched for some unhappiness
in her, but found none.

Janey had felt the orgasm Sally experienced. It just
about pushed her over the edge. "Sensei, what will
happen if I, you know, uh..."

"Cum?" I finished for her.


"You will be punished."


"No more than you can bear. But from what I see from
those marks all over your body, you can bear a lot,
Cricket. So be careful, please, for your sake."

She kept up her sinuous movements, slowly separating
her legs to reduce the friction. I think she hoped I
wouldn't notice. She was trying to avoid a climax by
not doing her best. Unacceptable.

"Cricket? Only your very best. Remember?"

"Oh, God, Sensei, this is too hard! I will cum if I
keep doing this."

"Do you wish to quit?"

She thought about that. "No. No pain, no gain,

I smiled. I knew she was a bright girl. "Right.
Learn to control it. It takes a great deal of
strength. You can ask your mom later about that, too.
She may be able to help."

I raised Sally up off my cock. I was a long ways from
finishing. She knew it, but she still sucked at my
shaft as I pulled her off. Maybe she thought she could
get something out of it that way. I lifted her lips to
mine and kissed her. She seemed disappointed there was
nothing to share with me this time. I grinned at her
and lifted her a little more so that her legs fell on
both sides of mine. Her eyes widened, hoping, longing.
I settled her down, impaling her on my shaft. She
hissed in my ear as I filled her completely.

"You had yours earlier, my love. You may not peak
again until Janey cums. She will, but I haven't decide
when that will be, yet. I am finding this `Master' and
`Sensei' thing to be an incredible turn-on. I could
get used to this. And I have you to thank!" I had
spoken softly in her ear, for her alone. She fastened
her sharp teeth into the muscles on my neck and began a
serious movement up and down my cock. I urged her on
with rhythmic swats to her smooth ass cheeks. They
colored nicely. Her arms tightened around me in a
death hug. She would have to love me to death.

Janey hadn't heard us until she heard the slapping of
my hands against her mother's ass. She was
preoccupied, anyway, focusing her considerable
attention on not having an orgasm while still
stimulating herself.

I watched the play of emotions flit across the faces of
the two beautiful women, one openly masturbating in
front of me for the first time, the other steadily
fucking the hard shaft of her Master. Shame, lust,
need, a little hate, aching need, passion, a slight
tremor, a twitch, and then some real fear as they both
sensed they were at the edges of the forbidden
climaxes. I reached out with my senses and blocked the
link Janey had with her mom. I didn't want any
extraneous blips from Sally to hit her unexpectedly and
push her over. She was trying so hard.

Janey noticed the dampening of the feelings coming from
Sally. She got a frightened look on her face, and
stopped moving her legs. She hugged her arms around
herself. "God, Sensei, is this what other people feel?
I would rather be punished. Please, I feel so alone.

I relented and let a little bit more of Sally leak
through to her. She latched on to that little bit like
a drowning man to a life raft. She began to rub her
legs again, this time with the intent of bringing
herself off rapidly.

She was putting me in tough spot. Just like a woman to
find a way to manipulate a man, regardless of the

"Cricket, I do not wish to punish you. You may cum.
But you will cum only when I count to three. Clear?"

She nodded, shakily. With my foot I urged her hand
closest to me to her chest. She looked at me
questioningly. With my hands behind Sally's back, I
held up one finger, then two then three, then I pinched
my thumb and forefinger together in an exaggerated
manner, indicating I wanted her to squeeze hard; harder
than she normally would. She nodded and brought her
other hand up, teasing and then capturing both erect
nipples. I watched this erotic display for a while,
until she turned her frantic eyes on mine, pleading for

"One." I lifted Sally up. I could feel the knots in
her muscles.

"Two." I kept her up, just the head of me inside her.
I kissed her nipples, first one then the other. I
heard Janey grunting on the floor with the effort of
holding off her climax. She had waited long enough.

"Three!" I dropped Sally, letting her own weight bring
her crashing down against my balls. I forced my hips
up at the same time, crashing the tip of my cock into
her cervix. I shot my load up into her spasming cunt.
Her teeth bit down hard on my neck.

Janey screamed, "Sensei!" Sally screamed, "Master!" at
the same moment.

I removed the damper from between them, and the
aftershocks that fed off each other were sweeter than
the original twin earthquakes.

We didn't get much else done that day.

Chapter 27

It was early the next morning when we finally got out
of bed for any length of time. Believe it or not, I
didn't have intercourse with Janey once during that
time. It just didn't seem right, with her wearing the
collar. I think both of us, and Sally, too,
instinctively understood that her first time with me
had to be with her full choice. That doesn't mean that
I didn't enjoy her company, so to speak, to the
fullest. To be honest, meeting Sally's immense build
up of sexual needs took most of my attentions and
energy. Having a second naked female body helped for
stimulation, though.

Rousting my two disheveled bedmates out of bed, I gave
serious consideration to how to proceed. I didn't want
to be a dictator, but the lifestyle we were headed into
demanded that there be some clear guidelines - rules -
for the two women to live by. For them to know what to
expect, how to act, etc. Hell, I need them as much as
they did.

If working for the government had taught me anything,
it had taught me that Ralph Waldo Emerson was correct
when he said "That government governs best that governs
least." Or something like that. The point he was
trying to make was to make as few hard and fast rules
as possible, just ten commandments. That's all. Just
enough to show the intent, don't stifle the initiative.

Breakfast was a veritable feast. The two new `slaves'
tried to out-do each other in making my favorite
dishes. I finally sat them down and told them they
were my favorite dishes and to quit wasting good food.
While I had them down and quiet, I decided to introduce
the rules.

"Before I start, let me say that your participation in
all of this, Cricket, is voluntary. However, you can't
pick and chose what you will or won't do, if you decide
to participate. It's all or nothing. Understood?"

I got a quiet, but definite nod in the affirmative.

"First, these rules I'm going to go over only apply
when you have on the collars. Sally, I have the key to
yours, so I decide when they apply to you. Janey, you
can put yours on whenever you are ready to participate.
After you put it on, though, it stays there until I
take it off. Exceptions are for school or company or
when you are truly overwhelmed."

I got two nods of understanding. Janey was a little
wide-eyed at the concept she just couldn't back out
after she was in. Sally didn't like it, but

"Second, there will be special clothing you will wear.
Slave garb, so to speak. Love, your first job is to
design and sew up two sets of slave garb for you and
Cricket. It should not be blatant, but it should make
you aware of how exposed you are at all times. Your
bodies should be totally available to me at all times.
I expect to see those outfits by tonight. You both
have permission to go to town to shop for materials."
I quickly calculated distances and time. "You may be
gone for two hours. For every minute over that limit,
you will both receive one stroke of punishment."

They both gasped. The time I allotted would almost
positively ensure at least a minimal punishment. How
substantial it would actually be was up to them,
however, and by the amount of time they spent shopping.

"Third, when not otherwise engaged in a productive
activity, one of you will attend to me. Love, do you
remember our bet?"

Sally nodded, her eyes widening.

"That will be the assumed position. Please take it now
as a demonstration for Cricket."

She slowly slid to her knees to a position in between
my legs. She parted my robe and slipped just the head
of my flaccid cock into her mouth. I didn't stay limp
for long as I was in one of my favorite places and she
had to adjust the position of her head to accommodate
my growth.

"Cricket, you will observe that she has just the head
in her mouth. She is not moving, sucking, licking or
humming. Nothing. This is what will be called `Head
Time.' You will have your own opportunity to do this."

Sally started to rise, having given her demonstration.
I cleared my throat, and, when she looked at me, raised
a questioning eyebrow. I nodded with my head,
indicating to her to get back into the position.
Realizing she had erred, she blushed deeply. God, she
was beautiful. I resumed when she had my cockhead
reseated in her fabulous mouth.

"Cricket, you have much to learn, and are really in a
training position. I, not you, will determine your
rate of progress. You have already begun giving me
blowjobs, but need practice. Therefore, you will
practice every morning, to start the day."

Janey cheered at that, and I saw Sally just about
choke, but hey, what guy wouldn't want to start the day
with a gorgeous teenager giving him a blowjob?

I continued with Janey's instructions. "Unless
instructed otherwise, you will sleep in your own room.
I don't want any unconscious accidents, clear?"

Sally relaxed a little at that. I wasn't going to push
her little girl into a sex slave thing entirely. Janey
wasn't as pleased, though. Tough.

"Love, you main duties will be the household, including
the health of said household. You will run the house.
What you say goes, even over Cricket, and to some
extent, over me. You will determine the menu, any
social events, and, most importantly, a rigorous
exercise program..."

How she could smirk with her mouth full of cock, I
don't know, but damned if she didn't.

"... other than sexual exercises, Love. I will
determine that area. Clear? I don't want flabby
slaves. Oh, by the way. I will be doing the exercise
program with you. I expect it to challenge me, as

I saw her face pale when I said that. She knew I
exercised hard every morning. If it was to be
challenging to me, she and Janey would be hard pressed
to keep up. There were going to be some sore muscles
for a few weeks.

"Cricket, your main duty is to see to your education
and any related activities. The collar comes off in a
heartbeat for those things. Understood?"

"Lastly, the small room off of the living room, now the
den, will be a `Free Room.' None of the slave rules
apply when you are in that room, for either of you,
collar or no collar. That is your refuge, your
sanctuary, should you ever need it. To be sure that
the sanctity of that room in enforceable, I give you my
word. That, and I will put a loaded pistol in the
drawer of the desk in that room, readily accessible."

Sally lost it at that. Her head jerked up and she
almost blurted out her objections.

Before she could object, I went on. "This is going to
be our lifestyle in our own home, and is not for public
display. Unless specifically instructed to do so, you
will act `normal' in public. On occasion you may be
bound in public, but it will not be visible, and it
will be your primary job not to allow it to become
visible or obvious to the public. You will never be
publicly displayed or humiliated. Above all, you will
be expected to act with dignity and respect, both
towards each other and me. I will tolerate no

"Oh, and one other thing, you will always speak the
truth to me and to each other. Always. Your true
thoughts, your true feelings. You do not need to be in
the Free Room for that. I cherish your minds more than
your bodies. I will gag you as little as possible, and
only with your consent or for special punishments or
playtimes. I want you to be able to express
yourselves, understood? I will not demand silence.

"If this lifestyle limits your freedom to be who you
are in any noticeable way, it will not continue. It
will be difficult for you, knowing where that line is,
but we will find it together." I turned to look at
Sally. "Now, Love, I understand you wanted to say

"Master, the gun, there is no need. Your word is

"Love, suppose I am punishing you. Suppose I go too
far, push you past your limits. I am still new at
this. It would never be my intent to harm you, but in
the heat of passion, in the contest of wills to be a
true Master to you, I might not recognize when I have
gone too far. A doorway won't stop me. A loaded gun
will. I want you to know - know! - that you are safe
in that room, even from me. However, if you can think
of a better way, I will listen."

She sat silently, stunned at the seriousness with which
I was taking this new lifestyle. I had always heard
you should be careful what you wish for, that you just
might get it. Well, Sally was now faced with having
her fondest wishes coming true. And there was a loaded
gun involved. Not quite what she had expected.

There didn't seem to be anymore comments, so I took
Sally's hand and lifted her to her feet. With
instructions for Janey to clean up the kitchen, I lead
Sally into our bedroom and from there to the bathroom.

I looked around at the clutter on the counter, mostly
hers, got the wastebasket, and swept it all in.
Turning her with her back to the counter, I lifted her
up and sat her down, her back to the mirror. She had a
bemused smile on her face until I lifted her feet so
they rested on the counter.

"What are you going to do, Master? Uh, if I can ask,
that is."

Grinning, I answered her. "I am going to attend to
you. And, yes, you may ask anything, any time. I
already told you that."

"Master, you are going to attend to what?"

"Well, I noticed last night that there was a bit of
stubble growing down around your pubic area. I thought
I would clean it up for you."

"But Master, I can do that myself."

I leaned in to kiss her gently. "I know you can. But
would you deny me the pleasure of doing this for you?
Remember the last time?"

She groaned erotically. It had been a most enjoyable
time for us both, but especially for her.

"Every morning, after Janey finishes her `practice,'
you and I will shave and shower together. You will
shave me, I will shave you. Then we will shower
together. I will wash you, you will wash me. Any more

Her eyes widened. She knew I used a straight razor, my
great-great grandfather's that was deadly sharp. Now I
was asking, no, telling her she would use it on me. My
face, my neck would be at her mercy. It was another
way of my telling her how deadly serious I was about
this new way of life.

"But I won't need shaving every morning, Master."

"You would question my instructions so soon, slave?"
With that, grinning, I picked up the brush and whipped
up a good head of foam. I applied it much more
thoroughly to her nether regions than necessary. Her
eyes never left the razor as I sharpened it on the
thick leather strop.

A well-placed thumb told me she not only remembered the
last time I had shaved her, she was looking forward to
it now, as well. When I heard her straining and
moaning as if in pain, I asked her what the problem

"You haven't given me permission to cum, Master. It is
very difficult to hold back."

I sat back, dumbfounded. "Sally, Love. You always
have permission to cum, unless I specifically tell you
not to. Furthermore, during this special time every
morning, I will expect you to cum as often as possible.
This is our time, just you and me. Do and say what you
want in here. OK?"

With a sob of relief, she drowned my thumb with her
juices. I heard a faint, "Hey, what's going on in
there" from Janey's room or the kitchen as she sensed
her Mom's orgasm, but we both ignored it for the
moment. There were more important matters to attend

Much, much later, with shaky hands, she only nicked me
once with the razor. That was probably my fault for
making her shave me while impaled on my cock.

So what if the shave was a little ragged? We had many
mornings ahead of us for her to practice.

Chapter 28

My two slave girls were a flurry of activity the rest
of the morning. Around noon or so, Janey slipped in to
my office where I was working, and stood there, shyly
waiting for me to say something to her. Finally, after
ignoring her for several long minutes I looked up at

"Are you supposed to be doing something?"

"Uh, mom said I should do some Head Time while she
makes lunch."


"Well, I didn't want to bother you, and, well, uh..."

I stared at her. She got nervous and started to cry.
Damn. I motioned her over to me and took her on my
lap. When she settled down I kissed her gently on the
cheek and then urged her down between my legs, under
the desk. Let me tell you, life doesn't get much
better than that!

Janey loosened my belt, unsnapped my jeans and pulled
down the zipper. I was pleased she had some difficulty
doing that, as if she had never done this before. I
hoped not.

"Can I use my hands?"


"Can I use my hands to, you know, get it out?"

I laughed. "Yes, you may, though I might just tie them
behind your back sometime for the fun of it!"

Blushing, she reached in and freed my semi-stiff cock.
She took the opportunity to examine it closely until I
cleared my throat to remind her why she was there.
With an impish little giggle, she slipped the swollen
purplish head into her mouth.

Not knowing how long she could stay there, or how long
I could last in that hot steaming cauldron, I busied
myself with some of the financial reports that needed
to be reviewed. It must have been 10 minutes later
when I sensed her arousal building. It was amazing. I
could literally `see' the lights and colors of the aura
around her body shifting and changing, building to a
swirling kaleidoscope of feelings. Her hands were
resting on my thighs and she wasn't moving, so I knew
she wasn't bringing herself off. I was getting better
at this sensing stuff, so it wasn't totally unexpected
when she released me from her mouth.

"Sensei? What's happening? I'm going to, to, Oh, God!
I'm cummmmming!"

I could feel her climax rolling through her, kind of,
and I focused on it without touching her. Actually, I
focused on some of the brighter colors of her emotions.
Maybe I focused a bit too much because suddenly her
eyes rolled up into her head and she sort of slumped
down onto the floor.

I leaned down and picked her up, settling her
comfortably on my lap. For being so relaxed, I could
still feel the sexual tremors coursing through her
body. She was purring, too. I rocked her back and
forth like she was a little girl.

I looked up to see Sally propped up in the doorway, a
wild expression on her face. "What in the Hell was
that?" Her breathing was ragged as if she had just
finished running a race.

"Janey was doing some Head Time and had an orgasm."

"But you helped, didn't you?

"Huh? No, not really. I didn't touch her at all."

"No. I mean with your link. You helped."

"Oh, yeah, I guess. Is she alright?"

"Alright? God, I should feel so good. I want one of
those, too..." As an afterthought she added,
"...please, Master."

It was the first time I had intentionally helped one of
them with an orgasm. This link thing I had seemed to
be different, much more powerful than the ones they had
and I still had a long way to go in learning to control

Sally stood watching us for a bit. I sensed a bit of
jealousy - not much, but a bit. Then she, too, focused
on Janey and she relaxed. She glanced at the clock on
the wall.

"Lunch is ready. Would you like it served in here,

"I'll bring her out to the kitchen. I like it when we
all eat together. Like a family."

It must have been the right answer as I saw her smile
contentedly as she turned and walked down the hall.

After lunch the two of them changed into jeans, tennies
and t-shirts for their shopping trip. They presented
themselves to me before leaving. I motioned Janey over
to me, had her turn around and I unsnapped her collar.
I hung it from a special peg underneath the clock on
the wall. I motioned Sally over, and unlocked her
collar and put it on another peg.

As soon as she was free, Sally threw her body up
against mine, forcing me back against a bookcase. Her
arms went around my neck and she drew my lips to hers
in a fierce, passionate and long kiss. Both of us were
breathing raggedly when she finally broke it off.

"You know, you don't have to wait for me to take off
the collar to give me another one of those," I
whispered to her. "I could get to like those really

Sally sighed and tried to meld her body to mine,
purring contentedly. "I know. I just wanted to let
you know, when I was free, how much I love you." She
looked up at me and smiled. "And to say `Thank You,'

"I love you, too. Listen, if the collar is too much of
a restriction on you expressing how you feel ..."

"Oh, no! I'll get used to it. It's just that, well,
before, I wasn't allowed to have likes or dislikes."

"Am I doing this wrong?"

Again she smiled. "No, you're wonderful. But old habits die hard. I will change. You are the Master,
my Master."

I looked over at the clock. "Well, as much as I love
you, and this little touching moment, you now have 1
hour 57 minutes to get those collars back on. You'd
better get a move on."

With faux screams of terror, the two lovelies dashed to
Sally's car and headed for the Mall. I knew when they
went the wrong direction down the highway that Sally
intended to push the envelope of their punishment as
far as she could. I hoped she wouldn't make it too
hard on Janey.

I had some modifications to make on the furniture while
they were gone, adding eyebolts and straps to the bed
frames, headboards and footboards at regular intervals.
I did both Janey's bed and ours. When I was done, the
new fixtures were hidden from sight. I was pleased
with my handiwork.

The proximity alarm in the driveway sounded and I
looked out the window. I saw Sally's car sitting at
the end of the driveway, almost out of sight. I wasn't
sure if she knew about the alarm I had had installed
during that media nightmare, but regardless, I wasn't
pleased that she was so flagrantly extending their
return time. I stood and watched for about 10 minutes
before the car started up and the two girls came back
in the house.

Janey came tearing into my office and knelt down in
front of me. She scooped her hair forward to expose
her neck. When I didn't move she gave a worried look
at the clock and, as another ticked off, gave a tiny
squeal of fear.


"Yes, Janey?"

"Aren't you, uh, um, going to put the collar back on?"

"What? It's my job to fetch your collar?"

The look of horrified realization on her face was
priceless. She dashed up and snatched her collar and
tried to hand it to me. When I wouldn't take it, she
began shaking it urgently.

"Daaaad. Here it is. Take it." She paused. "Oh!

"Present it to me properly, Janey."


"Kneel down, yes, like that. Now take the collar in
both hands, put them together with the palms up. Good.
Bow your head down. Right. Now, that's the proper way
to present your collar to me; as a gift of your whole
being." Sally had come into the room and was standing
quietly at the doorway. I don't think Janey knew she
was there.

"Oh. OK. Sorry."

"That's OK, Janey. You're learning, remember?"

I sat and watched her squirm.

"Uh, Dad. Was there anything else?"

"No. I was just wondering if you had anything to tell
me." I was looking directly at Sally when I said that.

Janey quit squirming. Sally stood deathly still. They
both knew that I knew they had delayed their return
intentionally. "No," was her quiet reply.

I grinned. Good. She wouldn't tattle on her mother just to lessen her punishment. "So, whose idea was it
to delay getting back?"

She just knelt there, silent. I could sense
desperation in her aura, coloring my sense of her. She
was torn between fear of the pain and punishment and of
betraying her Mother. I'm glad she stayed silent.

Taking pity on her, I bent over, took her collar and
fastened it around that slim neck. "Twenty minutes
late. For you."

She looked over at the clock and back at me with big
eyes. The clock showed that they had been over 30
minutes late, even before I delayed getting her collar
back on her.

"It wasn't all Mom's fault, Sensei. Please don't be
mad at her."

I took her into my arms and held her while she worked
out her tears. "I could never be mad at your Mom,
Cricket. Don't you worry about it. You just focus on
you. You let your mom and me worry about us, OK?"

She hugged me and dashed out of the room. I don't know
if she even saw Sally standing there. I halfway think
she thought she was escaping without her punishment.
Oh, well. She would learn.

Sally, having had the benefit of Janey's example went
and retrieved her collar from its peg on the wall.
With the grace of an angel, she knelt in front of me
and gave me her gift. The way it was done made me feel
honored to accept it. I know I cherished her, but she
made it seem special. Even so, there was an issue
between us. I locked the collar around her neck.

As she tried to rise, I placed my foot on the back of
her head. She froze. I sensed dread spreading through
her. She knew I was displeased. Not angry.

I tried to focus on that disappointment and project it
to her. She gasped as I succeeded, then she dissolved
into a sobbing heap. I was aware of Janey outside the
door, listening. I tried to send her a reassurance
that it was OK. I would not hurt her Mom. I was
surprised to feel her calm down.

I let Sally stay down. I did not try to comfort her as
I had her daughter. I did relax the displeasure I was
focussing on her and when she finally got her sobbing
under control, I spoke to her.

"I expect to see the slave garb by tonight, 10:00. No
delays, understood?"

"Yes, Master." Her voice was quiet.

"Do Janey's outfit first and have her wear it in when
she is ready for her punishment." I felt the fear
surge through the trim body listening outside the door.
She really had been hoping I had forgotten.

"Yes, Master."

"Your punishment is 45 minutes." I had tacked the
remaining time from Janey's punishment to hers.

"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master." I didn't sense that
she really was thankful, but I didn't want to push it.

Dinner, as you can imagine, was a quiet affair. I was
rather amused that they were both so somber. I was
also amused, and pleased, that neither was afraid.
Janey was anxious, not knowing what to expect. Sally
was sad, sorry she had displeased me. I had already
decided on Janey's punishment. I also had a plan
forming for Sally's. I hoped it would make my point.

Sally had had Janey working on the outfits while she
prepared dinner. Janey wasn't happy about that as
getting her outfit done sooner would have accelerated
the time of her date with destiny. She cleverly got
around that by doing all the prep work on her Mom's
outfit first, so that after dinner, when Sally went in
to sew them together, all of Janey's pattern still
needed to be cut out. I heard them discussing it, with
Sally telling Janey I had wanted hers done first.
Janey very correctly pointed out that I had told Sally
to do Janey's first, not Janey. Since Sally hadn't
passed that on to her, she had been free to do what she
wanted. Damn, I knew she was a smart girl!

As a result, it was nearly 9:00 when Janey slipped into
my office. I let her stand there a moment before
looking up. I think I gasped, because she blushed a
deep, deep red.

Janey was wearing a vest of shiny dark blue satin. The
sides of the vest came to, but didn't cover her
nipples, thus exposing her charms to my view. A broad
sturdy belt of the same color with several pairs of D-
rings on the sides and in the back was cinched around
her tiny waist. Her skirt, also dark blue, ended
before her legs began, leaving her exposed in every
position. With her collar, that was all she wore. It
was exquisite.

I admired her for several minutes, having her turn
around and pose for me. I felt her getting more and
more aroused as she paraded herself, nearly naked, in
front of me. I kept her moving and posing for a while
longer, then indicated for her to kneel in front of me.

When she knelt, I pulled open the robe I had slipped
into after dinner. My appreciation of her beauty was
evident. "Head Time," was all I said to her.

Without the slightest hesitation she slipped her mouth
over the head of my cock. This time, however, it
seemed to calm her down from her aroused state. I
began to sense softer hues in the colors of her aura,
still with the occasional bright flashes of arousal but
more organized and rhythmic.

I sat stroking her hair gently for the longest time.
It was a kind of bonding time for us. I wanted her to
know that the punishment to follow was not done in
anger. I think she understood.

When I lifted her up from her knees, she kissed me.
Not exactly an unchaste kiss, either. Undeterred, I
positioned her over my knees. Sally had provided
straps that were attached to the belt and I understood
their purpose immediately. Capturing Janey's wrists, I
looped the soft straps around them and then fed the
ends through the double-D rings in the back of the belt
that went around her waist.

Janey struggled for a bit, and then giggled nervously,
"Oh! That's what those are for. mom said you'd
probably know."

"Yeah, she's pretty smart. You'd have figured it out
eventually, too."

I rubbed my hand all over the target she presented to
me. This wasn't part of the punishment. I just
enjoyed rubbing her bare ass. It was just so perfect:
the perfect shape, the perfect size, perfect texture,
and almost the perfect color. Well, I was going to
make it the perfect color, and right now.






Oooooohhhhh, God. I'm cummmmmmmming!

I knew she had been primed. I hadn't wanted to focus
on her and accentuate her arousal, I was still too
clumsy with it. So I was glad when she went over after
just five firm swats. I think the Rosen's gadgets
helped, but I swear she would have started just as fast
on her own.

I picked up the pace and the hardness now that she was
on her way. I don't know how high she went or how many
times. She just kept going on and on and on. Her
hands clenched and unclenched over and over as she
struggled against her bonds. My leg under her crotch
was dripping with her fluids.

After the last blow, I rested my hand on the now ruby
orbs. The heat from them was astounding. I dipped my
finger into her dripping slit and touched her button.
That set her off anew. I was busy watching the colors
of her aura and how they changed as I touched her.
When I brought the tip of my dripping finger to her
tightly clenched anal rosebud, the intensity of the
colors dimmed. All except one. That light seemed to
gather all the other light into itself. I circled my
finger, carefully and easily rimming her asshole. The
light followed my movements and glowed brighter still
as she became accustomed to the unfamiliar touch.

Taking a chance, I slipped the marauding digit into her
back hole to the first knuckle. The flash of light
almost blinded me as her entire bodily aura seemed to
come alive with colors and hues of happiness. Janey
arched her back, bowing her body so tight her ankles
almost touched the back of her head. With a final
shudder, she collapsed across my knees.

I loosened her wrists from the convenient restraints.
I lifted her limp body in my arms and carried my
treasure into her room. I sat her on her bed and
carefully stripped off the slave garb from the passive
girl. I noticed that Sally had provided Velcro
closures in strategic places so that the clothing could
be removed without releasing the slave from bondage.
She had put a lot of thought into the garments.

I reached behind Janey's neck and removed her collar.
She stifled a sob when I did. I tipped the naked girl back and put her under the covers, then pulled them up
to her chin. She gave me a little pout, but she knew
what was coming. We both knew. We had both sensed it.

"Janey? We need to talk."

"Do we have to?"

I just looked at her and smiled. Then nodded my head.

"I'm going to hold on to your collar for a while. You
like this too much, and you want it for the wrong
reason. But, you know that, don't you?"

She nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

"I am going to let you wear it, though ..." she looked
up quickly, surprised, "...on two weekends a month, but
never two in a row." She frowned, thinking,
calculating. "And on special occasions, of course.
Fair enough?"

She nodded, agreeing that it was fair.

"You want this too much. A big reason is because you
think it will get me to fuck you sooner, right?" She
gave me a wry grin. "Well, kiddo, you're probably
right. If you were tied up and naked, the Pope would
have trouble resisting you." I got a wrinkled nose as
she pictured that gentle elderly statesman leering at
her, but she got the general idea.

"There is so much out there you have yet to experience.
If you were locked up in here, literally, you would
always wonder what you had missed. There is plenty of
time for you to embrace this life later, when you know
absolutely that this is what you want.

"You should know, too, that I love you very much. I
could never bear to hurt you."

"The spanking didn't hurt me, Daddy."

"I know, Janey. I know. God, I thought you were going
to explode!"

She was giggling as I leaned over to kiss her
goodnight. She caught me around my neck and hugged me

"Dad? Mom's afraid."

"Afraid? Of what? That I will punish her?"

"Oh, no! She accepts that. I'm not real sure, but I
think she knows she did something kind of stupid. She
feels like she disappointed you and is afraid that you
won't forgive her." All in one breath.

"Well, Janey, not that it's any of your business, but
she did screw up pretty badly. And I am disappointed.
But I have already forgiven her. I won't, I can't hold
it against her. I love her too much." I paused and
got real serious. "I will try to help her remember,
though. Uh, do you want me to try to turn down your
link with her? It might get pretty intense."

That last question sent a surge of terror through the
teen, the response I was looking for. I felt a
corresponding echo of that terror from outside the door
mixed with panic. I quickly cut their link, then
winked at Janey. Her eyes widened in surprise and
laughter when she realized the trick I had pulled on
the eavesdropping woman. She was also terribly
relieved, an emotion I did not allow her mother to

I left her snuggling in her bed, trying to follow us
with her link. I knew it wouldn't be hard for her, as
I planned to mete out her Mom's punishment in the room
over her bedroom. I hoped she would understand. I
hoped they both would.

I met up with Sally outside my office. If I had stared
at Janey's outfit, I was google-eyed at Sally's. Her
outfit was made up of light tan leather with emerald
satin trim. Instead of a vest, Sally wore a halter-
like top. A tight strap went around her chest snug
under her breasts. Two more went around the outsides
of her breasts, up and behind her neck. I assumed it
tied there. There was very little other material and
leather. The effect was to lift and compress her tits,
putting those glorious orbs on a type of tray. The
welts I had placed there the night before were proudly

Her skirt was similar to Janey's with a sturdy waist
belt, D-rings and convenient straps for binding her
wrists. Her skirt, though, was composed of alternating
narrow leather and emerald thongs. The thongs all
ended at different lengths, and they were weighted at
the ends, like they had fishing weights sewn into them.
I noticed the ones in the front were designed to bump
up against her clit and slit when she moved, keeping
her aroused. Clever girl!

Without a word I took her hand and led her upstairs, to
the room where we had entertained Amud and Bala. The
Arabian motif was still in place. I pointed to the
other room, the women's quarters without a word. She
emerged several minutes later in her veils and gauze
outfit I had laid out for her.

She came and stood before me, wondering what to do
next. I clicked the remote of the stereo. The `cling-
cling' sounds of Eastern music filled the room.


I could sense her indecision and her despair. I could
also tell she wanted so badly to please me.

She began to move. I was prepared to love any effort
she made, but even I have to admit she performed
awkwardly. Her heart was in it, she gave it her all,
but she did not have the training necessary to make it
right. She danced with every fiber of her being and I
loved her for it. I made her dance the entire 45
minutes. When I clicked off the music, she collapsed
in a sweating, sobbing heap in the middle of the floor.

I let her sob. I was careful not to convey my
displeasure. If she had tried to reach out to me with
her link, she would have felt how proud I was of her
for her effort, for not quitting, for her desire to
please me regardless of her lack of skill. Eventually
she quieted down and did reach out to me. And she

I think it made her feel worse. She finally sat back
on her heels, her face a puffy, teary mess. Her hair
was plastered to her head with sweat. I had never seen
her look so beautiful.

I took her two hands and held them in mine. She almost
broke down again. She knew a `we have to talk' moment
when she saw one.

"Did you dance well, Sally?" I used her name. That
shook her, too.

"N-n-no. But I tried... Master?" She ended with a
question, not knowing how to address me. I gave her a
wan smile, not much comfort, even less help.

"Are you capable of dancing better?"

"Oh, yes! I just need to learn, and to practice.
Maybe Bala...?" Her voice trailed off as she couldn't
see where this was going.

"Do you think your dance pleased me?"

"I, I don't know. I tried to please you. I sensed you
were pleased, but I also felt that you were trying very
hard not be displeased. I danced so badly, though, how
could you have liked it?"

"I liked it very much because it came from your heart,
the heart of the one I love."

"But why...?" There were so many questions, she didn't
know where to start. I decided to let her off the

"Sally. I am a new Master. I can't `dance' very well
yet, either, but I am willing to learn. Unlike you, I
don't have Bala to teach me. I have to rely on you to
help me. I am trying very hard, with all my heart, to
be the Master you want me to be, to be the best Master
I can be for you, and for Janey. I may do things
awkwardly at first, but you must know my heart is
always there for you.

"Please do not ever purposefully seek to extend a
punishment again. I will try to provide you with ample
discipline, if that is what you seek, what you need. I
need to learn what I can give you first, how to `dance'
to please you, before I can do the fancy steps.

Sally's eyes were closed, trying to hold back the
tears. She nodded her heartfelt agreement.

"I will change so you can punish me now."

"The dance was your punishment."


"My Love, " she breathed a sigh of relief at her slave
name, "we both know you would enjoy a spanking at my
hand as much as your daughter did, if not more. Not to
make you feel worse than you do right now, but I think
you need to know what I had planned before you decided
to lengthen your return time. What I wanted to do was
to warm your bottom to a sufficiently rosy hue, and
then take you savagely over and over again until you
cried `Uncle'. That is still something I plan to do
every night, or as often as possible. But not

With a tiny wail, she brought her hand to her mouth to
cut off her cry. She knew she had lost something
special by trying to do it on her own. Failing to
still her cries, she threw herself at my feet, her hair
covering them. I could feel her tears of loss, remorse
and sorrow dripping over them, washing over them. I
let her cry herself out. Then I helped her up and led
her down to our room.

I stripped her as I had Janey, gently and with
worshipful adoration of her glorious body. I led her
to the bathroom and left her to her nightly
preparations. When she came back to bed, I laid her
softly back against the pillows. I took her wrists
and, with a single simple loop, tied them to the
headboard. It was tied tight, but it was more symbolic
than functional. A firm tug would loosen her wrists in
the night, if necessary.

We cried together and came together as I made love to
her that night, passionately, slowly and with ardor,
over and over.

We both knew it would have been better the other way.

Chapter 29

Janey was calm the next morning as she came in to
practice her fellatio. She had followed closely her
mother's tortured emotions the night before over their
link. She had not sensed any malicious intent on my
part. She also knew I had forgiven her mom and that
the incident was behind us.

I was still half-asleep when her hot mouth engulfed my
limp dick. Janey had simply crawled in under the
covers, nude, and gone about her business. God, could
it get any better?

I turned to look at my bride-to-be and found she was
already awake, quietly watching me wake up. We looked
at each other in silence as her daughter labored below.
I watched for any signs of anger or jealousy, but there
was only contentment. Even when she saw my pupils
dilate and my nostrils flare as I filled that
industrious tight hot mouth with my essence, there was
only peace and pleasure at my release. I felt the two
diamond hard points of Janey's nipples working their
way up my chest. I turned to meet her mouth as she
kissed me, my taste still predominant in her mouth.

"Morning. Morning, Mom." She saw Sally's wrists still
tied to the headboard from the night before. She
didn't seem to be alarmed or surprised. Seeing there
was no rush, she kind of melted her fabulous body into
mine. I was prepared for her to try to slip my cock
into her slit, but she didn't try. I was surprised,
and proud.

With her finger she reached over and traced the letter
in medallion of Sally's collar. I think she was a
little sad she didn't have hers, but she seemed
resolved to let me set the pace. I know she was happy
for her Mom.

I reached up and jerked the strap, freeing Sally. With
a lascivious grin I ran my finger lightly over her bare
pubic area. There was just the faintest hint of
stubble, but that was all the excuse I needed. More
than I needed. Janey was forgotten as my love and I
headed for the bathroom.

At breakfast I informed Sally that I wanted her to set
up a regular evening with Amud and Bala. Amud was a
fascinating young man, well versed in a broad range of
political and financial topics and I found I looked
forward to our discussions. He had expressed that he
did as well. He and I could talk while the girls learned to dance and whatever else. Bala would also
benefit from the relationship, as I was sure my girls would educate her on the American way of life. They
liked Bala as much as I liked Amud.

Amud and Bala visited us on Friday. Much to Janey's
elation, I let her wear her collar. Sally had called
Cece to help with the preparations, so things were
going smoothly. Bala, Sally and Janey disappeared
behind the flap of the tent and we could hear them
chatting noisily.

We didn't notice when it got quiet, but suddenly we
heard Bala exclaim loudly. We both became alert at
that and watched warily as Bala surged out of the
woman's quarters, pulling a half-naked Sally behind

"Look! Look!" she shrilled.

Bala dragged Sally in front of Amud and bared her
fabulous tits to his view. I say `dragged' more
because I want to, rather than because Sally was
resisting. She wasn't and that surprised me. I also
found that her lack of resistance touched an explosive
anger deep within me that I didn't know I had. I knew
Bala had sort of dominated Sally before during the
fittings, but I wasn't sure it still carried over.
Apparently it had.

As I had been trained to do in highly charge emotional
situations, I froze with a blank look on my face. My
enemies, those few still living, know to fear that

The whip marks I had made earlier in the week on
Sally's lovely creamy white tits were healing nicely,
but the marks were still clearly visible. In my
jealous rage, I thought Amud's eyes would bug out of
his head as he stared at those two whip-marked orbs,
though in honesty, he tried hard to show a purely
professional interest in them. He didn't quite
succeed, but I later admitted his restraint. He was
clearly uncomfortable and in an awkward situation. I
saw him subtly shift his sitting position, trying to
ease the pressure of his obvious erection.

Janey stood paralyzed in the doorway, forgotten for the
moment. She had seen my face, and it terrified her. I
could sense that over the link. She could feel my
anger very clearly. What surprised me, as I later
thought through all of this, was that Sally didn't
sense it. It was my first indication that their `link'
was imperfect and different for the two of them. Only
certain things went between them, and they couldn't
sense the same things in me. At the time, however,
that didn't mean shit.

What angered me most was that Sally had gone completely
submissive. Again. I recognized that at once. It had
been a point of contention between us the last couple
of nights as we talked in bed. I would remove her
collar and she would protest, ending with her softly
crying in the night beside me, her hot tears dripping
on my chest as we cuddled. I could take a lot, but
when she cried, well, what can I say? I let her tears
influence me. OK, OK. So I gave in completely. Call
me a wuss. You try it next time!

I tried to explain to her that I missed the `old'
Sally. I told her what I had told Janey, that she
wanted this too much and I didn't think she was ready.
I knew I wasn't ready. She didn't care. She couldn't
get enough collar time. She craved it after having
done without for so long. She was like a kid with a
sweet tooth locked in a candy store at night with no
one else there. She was an addict, and it changed her.
It scared the shit out of me.

I knew she thought she was trying to help me by being
the perfect submissive, but unfortunately, I wasn't
even close to being the perfect Master. It wasn't a
`fit' that would work. I needed the love of my life to
be the love of my life. I was willing to make changes,
drastic ones to keep her, but I would not risk losing

I was caught on the horns of a dilemma, with both of my
choices having a high probability of losing the type of
relationship with Sally that I needed. It angered me
that Sally now seemed to `go sub' with anyone to get
her `fix', even another woman, in this case, Bala, the
sub and wife of my friend. I didn't know or recognize
at that time that women - and men - could be either
dominant or submissive. Or both or neither. Like I
said, this was new to me.

Bala had been extolling the exquisiteness of the marks,
going in detail about the strength and control each
showed. She had Sally hold up her tits with her hands
to Amud, putting them mere inches from his face. In my
silent rage, I imagined his hot, fetid breath caressing
those orbs as he leaned forward, drooling down his
chin, soiling his expensive silken tie. In actuality,
he could hardly breathe, he was so scared, and he moved
away from the temptation, not toward Sally. I didn't
care. I saw what I wanted to.

When Bala began touching Sally's tits, tracing the
welts with the tips of her finger, making suggestive
comments to Amud in their language, I thought Amud was
going to come in his trousers. Sweat beaded his brow
and I saw him clenching his fists and teeth, trying to
maintain control. It was obvious however that he was
extremely attracted to Sally and her tits. But I
couldn't blame him for that. Sally was an exceedingly
beautiful woman.

Janey finally reacted when Bala began fondling her
Mom's breasts, pulling out on her turgid nipples,
rolling them between her thumb and fingers. When Sally
moaned in a small orgasm, Janey moved quietly from her
frozen position at the door and insinuated herself
between the other two women. That seemed to snap them
out of whatever co-generated trance they were in. Bala
suddenly realized the horrendous error she had made.
In her excitement, she had gotten carried away. I knew
she had a good heart and only the best intentions.
Sometimes things don't cross the cultural lines that
well, however.

Sally pulled her top back together, somewhat
reluctantly, it seemed to me. She took her damn sweet
time doing it. It took forever before that last peek-a-
boo nipple finally bid us all adieu. She had denied
that the humiliation Gary put her through had turned
her on, but it was obvious from the hardness of those
turgid points that she did not mind this mildly forced
exhibition of her body. True, Amud and Bala were not
strangers and she was not being humiliated, exactly.

As she was led back to the women's quarters by a
frantic Janey, I saw her glance at the crotch of Amud's
pants, checking to see if she had an effect on him. I
don't know what it is about women that they get
insecure at weird times. But to me, that glance was
like pouring gasoline on a fire. Somehow I contained

Bala, trying to make things better, threw herself down
in front of my pillow. After several attempts to
communicate, she finally said, in broken English, "You
want more practice, use this worthless sperm catcher,"
and pointed to her own chest. She had the sense now to
keep her own blouse closed.

Amud was even more embarrassed with that announcement,
so much so that he seemed to have been distracted from
his arousal at seeing Sally's bare chest. He explained
that Bala, and he, were terribly embarrassed that they
had unknowingly breached a cultural protocol. In their
country, these things were accepted. In fact, Bala was
complimenting me on my quick learning of the handling
of the whip. My anger and displeasure was apparent to
all but Sally. His words helped, and though not
abated, my anger moved from the front to the back of my
mind, until it could be thoroughly and properly vented.
As will happen with good friends, the evening continued
and the events were ignored, if not forgotten.

We bid them good-bye, with both of them still acutely
chagrined at what had happened. Sally and I both
reassured them that we wanted to see them next week,
and not to worry about it. We watched their limo drive
off. We stood there in silence, both dreading the
return to our lives, but for different reasons. Janey
had filled Sally in on my reaction, and when attuned to
it Sally was able to pick it up on her link as well.

The storm clouds erupted as soon as the door closed.
Lightning flashed and the thunder rolled. I was in a
rage. I bellowed and yelled. I thrashed and banged
around. This is all very difficult to do when you
don't move a muscle or make a sound.

I don't recall ever having been so angry in my entire
life. Not when a South American Colonel wanted me to
remain against my will in his establishment. Not when
I had seen the photos of Gary touching and 11 year-old
Janey. Not even at Steven, the boy who attacked Janey.
Never! I shook. I literally shook with the internal

My fury was palpable and must have been clear over the
link, as Sally and Janey followed me to the cellar
without a word, without protest. I stripped both of
them without preamble, Janey, too. I wasn't thinking
clearly. I knew it, but at the moment, I didn't care.
I was angry, mad, furious, and I wanted satisfaction.
I wanted to hit something, hard. I wanted someone else
to feel the pain I was feeling.

I tied both of them up, hanging them from the chains
attached to the joists. I didn't even protect the
tender skin around their wrists as I hoisted them off
the ground, their feet several inches from the cold
concrete. They dangled there, swaying slightly,
delicious targets for my anger.

I was in a foul mood and I was in dangerous territory.
I knew if I started on Sally, I would regret it.
Janey, innocent Janey, had been a non-participant in
the events of the evening that brought us to the
cellar. I had no cause to hurt her, and even in my
rage I knew I couldn't bear to raise my hand against

I went to the wall and selected the thong Bala had
given me. She had used it on Janey before. It was
soft and supple, almost like a feather when it slapped
against my palm. It would take a lot to hurt her with
this, and that was not my intent. I walked over to
where she was hanging, waiting quietly for me. The
tensions were ripping through her tender teen body,
leaving her panting in the cool cellar air. Just
before I started to vent my anger on her, I remembered
the gag Bala had used. I lifted it to her. She shook
her head, no.

I raised my hand to strike her. Her quiet acceptance
of what I was about to do, even with the lightest
possible of implements, pierced my rage like a rapier.
I stood there for an eternity, my arm upraised, then
turned and left the dungeon.

I went jogging, running. I left them hanging while I
beat up my own body. Although I keep in shape, jogging
has never been one of my preferred exercises. I find
it masochistic. I think it's great if you like it but
my body strongly objects, both during and after when I

I don't recall how far I ran. It was late when I
returned to the cellar to check on my girls. The
pounding of the pavement had vented the most of my
anger and I felt more in control. Maybe there was
something to this running stuff after all.

I let Janey down and carried her up to her bed. She
had been hanging for hours, senselessly. Though she
had been brave and accepting, she must have been
terrified. Tenderly I wiped her fevered, sweaty brow
with a cool towel, cooing to her, cuddling her to my
sweaty chest. She woke up briefly and cocked her head,
as if trying to feel something. She smiled wanly up at
me, sensing that I was back in control of myself. She
was asleep before I left her.

I reached around to loosen her collar and she cried out
in her sleep. Even in the face of my anger, she wanted
to keep her collar. I understood she was not ready to
let go of this yet.

I tried to calm myself, convince myself that my anger
was gone. It wasn't, but I had it under control. The
rage I had felt had dissipated. I slipped back down to
the cellar. Looking at my love's beauty soothed me as
cool water.

Sally tried to speak. I silenced her with the doped
gag Amud had given us. I hoped that whatever that
sauce did would be enough to get her though the night.
Her tears soaked into the leather of the band as I
tightened it around her head, pulling the gag in as far
as it could go.

Blindly, without forethought, I went to the wall with
the whips. I picked up the one I thought would hurt the most, yet not kill her. It was a vicious
horsewhip, not designed for human flesh at all. The
horrible lash could rip skin from the bone if used
carelessly or in anger.

I started in on Sally with no warm-up. I was not
gentle. This was not for her pleasure. Or mine. She
could not respond. I did not want her to. I could
hear her muffled cries behind the gag, but I did not
care. I was walking a dark path with jealousy and rage
the only guideposts I could see in the darkness. They
were dangerous guideposts in unfamiliar territory.

I yelled, I cursed, I cried. I told her of the
heartache I had felt when she submitted, however
innocently, to another hand. I told her how angry I
had been with her actions, her non-selective
submissiveness. I told her how close I had come to
striking Janey in anger, and why I could not. I told
her I never, ever wanted to strike either of them in
anger. I told her she was the light of my life, my
reason for being. I told Sally over and over that I
loved her, would always love her, regardless. I ranted
and raved, cried and wept until I could not, then I
simply sobbed, holding her hanging body in my arms,
until I could no longer find any hint of anger within

Stepping back from her, I dropped the whip on the
ground, unused, having never lifted it against her. I
stepped up to her and thrust my iron hard prick into
her depths. She was not well lubricated, but not bone
dry, either. Yelling is not a particularly good form
of foreplay, regardless of its popularity. My entry
filled her, supported her and helped ease the stress on
her arms.

I had the sense to wait for her to secrete enough
fluids so that I wouldn't rip her apart when I moved.
She was whimpering softly behind her gag. I moved my
face next to hers as I felt her finally begin to

"Sally!" She opened her eyes.

I thrust in sharply. "I..."

I thrust again. ""

And again. "...your..." This word was said with
particular emphasis.

Once more. "...Master!"

Her eyes widened a she heard what I was saying, and
understood why I was displeased with her. She had
submitted to another, a Mistress. She had been
exposed, vulnerable to another man. It was a habit,
she was a submissive. I was going to break her of
that, if at all possible. She was mine.

I repeated my emphatic message to her, one word per
stroke. And again. And again. Over and over I drove
that message into her. Her eyes never left mine, their
sadness at her failure to please me overwhelming. In
the end I shot my seed into her and held her tight.
After a time, my softening prick pulled free and I
heard the plop of dripping cum spattering on the cool
cellar floor. I'm not sure, but I don't think she
climaxed at all that night, even with the doped gag.

I left her hanging there all night, gagged, suffering,
unfulfilled. It was probably the only time in her life
she had had sex with a lover and didn't climax. Then
again, I hadn't entered her as a lover, but as a
Master. I lay down on one of the cots along the wall
close to her but out of her sight. I didn't sleep.

In the morning I let her down. Slowly, carefully I
helped her up to our bathroom and prepared a steaming
whirlpool. She refused to let me put her in until she
had prostrated herself at my feet. Her hand slipped up
to feel her neck, to see if my collar was still there.
She cried out in relief when she felt it was still

"Master. You are my Master." She repeated that over
and over, sometimes sobbing, sometimes almost singing
it, as if to herself. She hugged herself to my feet.

Finally, I reached down and touched her collar. I
slipped my finger in between it and her neck. The
extra tension caused it to choke her, cutting off her
air and the blood flow. I lifted her to her feet, her
face to mine. She did not struggle.

"You are mine. Only mine."

She nodded, keeping her eyes to the floor.

"Sally? My Love?"

She looked up when I said her name. I think my voice
quivered. I know my hand was shaking. I drowned in
those beautiful eyes. Her gaze did not hold the terror
for me I had expected. To be honest, I wasn't sure
what I had expected to see in those sparkling green
eyes of hers. Hate? To be sure. Terror? Certainly.
Or maybe I'd see just a dull stare, an indication that
the life had been beaten out of her, her spirit broken.

I didn't expect to see what I saw: love, respect, hope.
Sure, a little fear and pain, but nothing like what I'd
expected. If I hadn't believed in the link thing
before, I did now. Only by her knowing my heart last
night could she have understood. I would probably
never know for sure, but then, she was full of
surprises. It was one of the main reasons I loved her
so deeply. It also made what I was going to say trite.
She already knew it before I voiced it.

I said it anyway. "You are forgiven. This incident is
forgotten." That being understood, I unlocked her
collar and took it off her neck. Her punishment and my
anger were behind us.

I helped her into the whirlpool. The hot, swirling
waters began the slow healing process that would last a
long time, long after the visible marks on her wrists
had faded.

Sally stayed in bed for two days. The experience had
exhausted her more than I realized. I pampered her,
tending to her heartaches and pains. Janey tried once
to help but Sally and I both refused her help. This
was my responsibility. I didn't keep them apart, as
she wasn't sick, so they chatted and talked, Janey
sitting on the end of the bed. Sally never mentioned
what they talked about, but I don't think it was about
what happened that night.

Sally and I talked, too. I think she finally
understood how scared I was of what she was becoming.
She admitted she didn't want to be the perfect slave,
it was just, well, so alluring. Several things had
gone on in her life lately that made the escape into
that life comforting to her. The attack on Janey was
not the first thing that had turned her life upside
down. The first thing that had happened was me. Her
feelings for me were so strong that they frightened
her. She had never felt like this before. As
frightened as I was of losing her, she was petrified I
would go away and leave her life empty of all meaning.
It was a new feeling for her, even at her age.

My introduction of bondage into the relationship during
the bet had thrown her for another loop. I hadn't
known what I was doing, really, but didn't mention
that. I had been desperate. Then she had lost the
bet. LOST! Not that she minded, given that she now
had my ring on her finger, or soon would, but it
planted a seed of doubt if she would be able to control
me later on. It had really rattled her, even though,
as the strength of my link grew, she realized how
focused and controlled I could be.

So it went. We talked, we cried, we made love. We
fucked savagely, the passions still raging in both of
us now. Our emotions were raw and open. In the end,
if you could call it that, we came to an understanding.
I was the Master. Sally would be, at all times, my
love. Only when the collar was on would I tolerate
submissive behavior in her, however. Without the
collar, she was commanded to act normal, my `old'
Sally. As twisted as this sounds, it worked for us.
She could be submissive to my wishes at all times, even
when not acting like it.

I didn't even pretend to understand.

Chapter 30

Time marched on. The weekly visits from Amud and Bala
resumed without further incident. Janey wore her
collar occasionally, even skipping some weekends she
was entitled to wear it. Her social life was picking
back up and she was just too busy to be tied up all
weekend, pun intended.

Sally started getting back to normal, too. Thank God!
Although I don't think Janey appreciated it. Getting
back to normal meant that she now had time to focus on
her daughter's life, not just her own submissiveness.
I heard the two of them more and more, chatting,
laughing, chiding and chaffing; just normal parent-
teenager stuff.

At one point Sally even enlisted my help. After her
last request for my help, she had tended to take things
having to do with Janey on herself, especially lately.
She seemed determined to show me that things were back
to normal. I just grinned and let her for the most
part, mainly because teenagers were aliens as far as I
was concerned, and the females of that species were as
perplexing as human females. It was also good for
Sally to know that she could do it herself.

This time, however, Sally was beyond herself. Janey
had been coming home late from school. Nothing unusual
so far, as she often had activities after school. Her
cheerleading coach had called and asked where Janey
was, as she had taken a leave from the squad for the
entire basketball season. Nothing surprising there,
given what had happened. Then there was her refusal to
tell Sally what was going on, why she was late. OK,
that was unusual, as were the tears and rips, crudely
mended, in some of her gym clothing. She was also
spending a lot of time in the whirlpool after school,

Nothing Sally did convinced Janey to talk. Threats,
promises, bribes to her friends, talks with the
teachers, nothing. It didn't sound too serious to me,
but to keep Sally happy, I decided to look into it.
Sally made me promise to be discrete. What? Me?

It took several days, but I found out what Janey was
doing after school. I couldn't believe it, but she was
practicing with the boy's wrestling team. For a while
I thought she was just hanging around trying to get a
cute boy's attention - as if she needed to do that!
But she went through all the drills with the team, and
even scrimmaged with the others in her weight class.
She lost, but she didn't do badly. Like her mother,
she was a scrapper.

OK. I knew what. But why? No amount of digging
revealed that to me. I kept at it for several weeks,
during which time I didn't say a word to either of
them. Janey went to practice everyday and, as I
watched her covertly, got better, much better, to the
point where she finally won a spot on the roster.

The day the roster was posted, I was waiting for Janey
outside the girl's locker room door. Her expression
was priceless, much like a child caught with her hand
in the cookie jar, but not knowing how she was found

"Uh, Hi, Dad. Just driving by?" she asked hopefully.


"Oh. Is everything OK at home? Did mom send you to
pick me up?" She tried to sound worried, but didn't


"Oh." She was silent for while. "You know?"


"Does mom know?" I could tell she dreaded that for
some reason.


Her head whipped up to look at me at that. Hope
flooded the car like a gully washer.

"...not yet."

"Oh, please Dad," she pleaded, "Don't tell her.

"Tell me something, kiddo." I turned to look at her.

"Why what?"

"Why wrestling? Is it a guy? Don't we give you enough
affection at home? Why?"

Janey was so cute when she blushed and giggled. Damn,
she was beautiful! Who was I kidding? "Oh, Daaaad."

I felt like I finally belonged to that great and
honorable club of patriarchs. I had just exasperated
my teenager and been addressed in the proper fashion.


She looked at me, now thoroughly exasperated. I wanted
an answer from her and wasn't going to take a cutesy
blush as a diversion. It almost worked, though.

"It's hard to explain."

"Try me."

"It started as a dare."

Oh, shit. I shuddered when I remembered some of the
things I had heard about - and participated in - that
started out with a dare. old Mrs. Johnson would never
be the same after waking up with 25 naked and very
obviously horny teenaged boys in her bedroom. Well,
she was old to us. 25 is a lot older than 16...

"I see. Who dared you?"

"Well, that's where it's confusing. I guess I sort of
did myself. You see, there was this cute guy..."

I knew it!

"...and he was, well, there was an argument about how
tough wrestling was and that's how come there weren't
any girls on the team. I sort of got volunteered to
make the team if I could."

"Oh, a challenge, not a dare." I felt slightly better,
but not much. I remembered some challenges I had
participated in, too, mostly having to do with bare
chests at sub-zero temperature football games in

"Yeah, I talked it over with the men's coach and he
said OK, as long as I had triple protection over my,
you know," she indicated her crotch, " and a double
strength athletic bra. I talked to the women's gym
teacher - she thought I was crazy - and she helped me
get all that stuff.

"You know, wrestling's tough!" she ended.

"But you made the roster for the next match! Aren't
you excited?"

"Geeze, Dad. What do you do? Know everything?"

"Only about the people I care about," I kidded.
"Seriously, your mom was concerned and asked me to look
into it. I did."

"It was nice to make the roster. I earned it, too.
But I'm not too thrilled about my first match. I have
to wrestle the defending State Champ, probably twice."


"It's a double-elimination with four schools. You have
to lose twice to be out. I'm the only other one
entered in the weight class, so the rules say we have
to wrestle twice."

Something in her voice didn't sound right. "What's the

"Oh, it's nothing. Just I heard when he found out he
might have to wrestle a girl, he made some pretty rude
comments about what he would do to me." She started to
cry, little tears trickling down her face.

"You want me to stop your match?"

She shook her head. "No. I know it must be strange
for him, you know? But why can't he just fight me like
a guy. I mean, I know I'm not a guy, but dang it Dad,
why are some guys such big assholes?"

Now, how often do you get `dang it' and `asshole' from
your little girl in the same sentence? She was
serious, too! It was, however, an eternal question. I
didn't know the answer, and knew if I said anything,
she would know I didn't know. I said nothing.

We drove home in silence her only request was that I
not let Sally know. I told her I couldn't promise to
do that. I felt it was her Mom's right to know about
this. But I told her I wouldn't spoil her match.

Friday night came. Janey didn't come home as it was an
away match at one of the other schools. I handed Sally
a big shopping bag and told her we were going out for
the evening. She started to open the bag, but I
stopped her. What was in the bag was for later.

It was unusual for us to go out, so she was excited. I
think she was curious when I headed for a small town
about 25 miles away and not our usual bistro. I kept
up a banal line of chatter for the hour drive, not
letting on what was up.

The fare at the local diner was a disappointment, but
the company was excellent. I think Sally felt the same
way too, but now she was more curious than ever. She
dropped hints, finally asking me point blank. I
ignored both the hints and the direct hints. As 7:30
approached I handed her the bag and told her she'd
better get ready.

Her face was a study in perplex ion as she pulled out a
big floppy hat, an over-sized pair of sunglasses and a
bulky shapeless overcoat. I had her put them all on -
she was surprised she got to keep her other clothes on,
I think - and we headed back to the car. She was even
more puzzled when we pulled into the crowded high
school parking lot. I don't know if she noticed the
big yellow bus from Janey's high school in the lot, but
I parked right next to it.

The gym was a cacophony of noise as we entered as the
early matches already underway. Behind her sunglasses
I could see her questioning eyes darting around trying
to discover what we were doing at a high school
wrestling match. I could tell to the millisecond when
she spotted Janey. I still have the bruises on my arm
to prove it.

"You knew what she was doing all along?"

"Kind of."

"Kind of? What the Hell does that mean?"

"Well, I knew what she was doing, just not why."


I was amazed to get away with that simple of an answer.
Sally knew my inquisitive nature. She knew of my
protective instincts and the honor code I lived by. If
Janey had asked me not to tell, I wouldn't, if I could.
I had known and that's all that mattered. If Janey had
been in trouble, I would have intervened. Sally had
asked for my help, after all.

"Well, you could at least have told me...."

I was going to hear about this for a long time, I could

They called Janey's match. It was painful to watch.
The kid she fought really was good, but, as she had
said, he was an asshole. He toyed with her. He never
quite did anything inappropriate, but I could tell
towards the end that the referees were beginning to
watch where he put his hands on her body. He pinned
her with 7 seconds remaining in the last period. Like
a trouper, Janey shook his hand - after his coach made
the asshole come back out onto the mat - then she made
her way back to her school's bench.

Her team did her proud. There were consoling "tough
match" comments and "he's a jerk" a couple of times.
They didn't treat her any differently than they would
another guy. She held her head up proudly. She had
fought hard, the best she could and she hadn't quit,
she had just been terribly out-classed by a better
athlete. I saw her shoulders start to slump forward in
despair, then pull back in fierce determination. She
wasn't going to quit now, either.

I looked over at Sally in her anonymous getup. Covered
up the way she was, Janey would never have to know she
had been here if we didn't tell her. She looked at me.
We nodded at the same time at the same thought. It was
time to intervene, a parent's prerogative. I was giddy
with excitement. My first parental intervention! OK,
not exactly giddy...

First thing I did was wander over to her coach. I got
his attention and introduced myself.

"Can you get her to forfeit the second match, Coach?"

He looked at me as if I was loony. "Janey? Quit? Are
we talking about the same kid here?"

I grinned back at him, "Just checking. Sometimes
teachers have more influence than adults at home."

"I could refuse to let her fight."

Grinning like an idiot, I shook my head. "Nah, I have
a better plan. This is what I want you to do..." He
nodded his head as he listened and even made a couple
of suggestions of his own when he saw where it was

Phase one completed, I initiated phase two. I
recruited another father of one of the kids on Janey's
team and took him with me. The coach had introduced us
and told him a little of the plan. I finished briefing
him as we made our way over to a spot behind the kid
she had just fought. We just stood there for a while
until the Emergency Medical Response Team showed up.
Someone had placed an anonymous call to their office.

"Thank God, they finally got here," I said loudly,
pointing them out. "I was really concerned about that
poor kid who had to fight that crazy girl. You
remember what happened the last time someone got her
mad, don't you?"

The other father chimed in, right on queue, "You mean
that poor bastard who lost his nuts when she kicked him
in the groin. I heard the surgeon said they looked
like applesauce."

"Yeah, that one. Well, at least the EMRT ambulance is
outside now. If there's another incident, maybe this
kid won't lose both balls."

The other father piped up again, "What do you mean
`if'? God, look at that girl kick! I tell you, she's
crazy when she's mad!"

Just then Janey was going through the unusual warm up
routine the coach had told her to do. She would
stutter step in a crouch like a linebacker, turning
around in a complete circle. When facing her opponent
across the gym, she would come out with a hoarse,
fierce sounding scream. Then, pointing her finger at
the kid, she kicked her leg as hard and high as she
could. She did this routine four or five times. On
the last couple of kicks, the upward force of her leg
flipped her over so that she landed on her stomach, a
three quarter backward somersault.

To say she had the attention of everyone in the
audience, including this poor kid, was to state the
obvious. Her last kick was spectacular. She did a
complete back flip, landing on her feet and ended up
facing the kid. Then with both index fingers pointed
at him, she screamed in mock rage. As a psych-out
move, it was very convincing, but still, I was counting
on the kid not being too bright.

I made my way back to Sally as they called Janey's
second match. As I sat down, she just shook her head,
shaking in laughter as Janey charged up to the mat.
She didn't look like a loser this time. The first
round started with them standing. The kid was still
cocky, but a little jumpy. He took Janey down easily
enough right away, but amazingly she escaped on her
own. She was pumped, too.

Just as she got free from him, she started that stutter
step routine she had been doing in her warm up, only
this time, instead of turning in a circle, she circled
him. In his attempt to keep her in front of him, he
turned with her. At one point he stumbled. It was the
opening she was looking for. At that moment when he
was off balance, she pointed at him, screamed a blood-
curdling war cry and started to bring her foot up off
the ground in a straight-legged kick.

The poor kid never knew what hit him, which was
nothing. He was so psyched out, he instinctively
slammed both of his hands over his family jewels and
screamed along with her. Janey changed the upward
movement of her kick and took him down with a basic leg
sweep. She had him pinned before he realized he was
still intact and unharmed. The referee and the
audience were still laughing when Janey leaned over and
kissed him on the forehead. Apparently, there is some
arcane rule about wrestlers kissing during a wrestling
meet, so even though she had won the second match,
Janey was disqualified from a third match. She didn't

It was the only match the kid lost all season, and
everywhere he went later on that year, his opponents
would grab their balls and fall on the ground screaming
during their warm ups. I hope he learned something
from it all. He did show some potential as a human
being, because after the match he came over and
apologized to all of us, especially Janey, for his
behavior during their first fight. I think he even
asked her out, which she graciously turned down. The
lucky bastard did get another kiss out of it, though.

For us, it was the end of Janey's wrestling career, so
don't look for her on the WWF. It did change a couple
of things around the house, however. Watching Janey
practice with those guys made me realize she wasn't the
fragile little blossom I sometimes let myself believe.
I mean, I know girls and women are as tough as men,
maybe not always as strong, but they certainly are as
tough physically. Its just, well, I tend to try to
protect them from the hard things in life. Call it
macho if you will, but it seems to be an instinctual
type thing that's easy to fall into. That they - women
- often encourage that behavior doesn't help, either.

Anyway, I decided to take advantage of Janey's athletic
bent and started initiating more activities that
involved bodily contact, like one-on-one basketball,
rough-housing on rainy days, tag football with some
other fathers and daughters. Things like that. Non-
sexual solid body contact sports. We even got Sally
involved, and it became a regular family outing for us.

The other thing that changed was that the boys at her
school, having seen her attitude at the wrestling match
about the attack on her, suddenly decided she wouldn't
castrate them if they dated her. Our house became
Hormone Central in a short time, as her suitors hung
out. With all that energy sitting around wasting, I
started organizing 2-on-2 and 3-on-3 basketball games.
Soon, our house was the center of the pick-up games,
with Janey always playing. Other girls, jealous at
first, started coming over. When they saw they could
get a good feel of the guy's bodies for the price of
playing, they joined in. I've noticed it's hard to be
jealous and sweaty at the same time. Granted, there
was a lot more close man-to-man, so to speak, defense
going on than necessary during the games, but
occasionally the ball would be tossed in the general
direction of the hoop. I don't recall the kids ever
keeping score, however.

The kids even asked Sally and me to join in sometimes
to make even teams. Sally played hard and kind of
dirty, copping feels of the young guys every chance she
got. When the guys found that they could grab back
without her protesting, she became a regular. I
particularly liked it when I got to guard her. I was
sore for days from her elbows in my ribs and elsewhere,
but, God, the sex that night would be great.

That was the way things were going. Janey was well on
her way to recovery. I hoped I had played a small part
in that even if it was somewhat unorthodox. Sally
seemed happy and active. We kept some time reserved
for just us. She needed the submissive time now that
it was possible, and I came to treasure those days
almost as much as when she was `normal.' I began to
see `my' Sally in both sides of her, one merging with
the other. It came to be much less of a shock to me to
see her in her submissive role. As I became more
comfortable with that, those times together with her
being submissive became more frequent. Still not as
often as she liked, but I think she appreciated them
more when she had to wait.

Janey would join us most times, usually for a portion
of the evening. However, as there was always a strong
sexual content to these times, she would only be able
to participate to a certain point. Sometimes things
would get too intense for her, and she would ask to be
released from her collar, but later on I would have to
be the one to tell her to go. She was not voyeuristic,
mind you, she was an active participant in the
activities but I wasn't ready to have sexual
intercourse with her just yet.

She complained it was unfair to get her all hot and
bothered and then turn her out. I retorted that life
was unfair, so shove it or something else up there.
Not my best retort, but given the fact that I had her
Mom's permission to fuck her, and that I wanted to, and
that she wanted me to, I wasn't thinking all that
clearly. I just needed her out of the reach of my
throbbing cock before I started thinking with the wrong
head. We both knew it could still happen that we would
have sex. I just wanted to wait for exactly the right
time, and I didn't want her first time to be when she
was submissive. Or maybe I was just still afraid I
would lose Sally if I actually did it with Janey. I
usually ended up restraining her in her bed with some
of the Rosen's toys to keep her quiet, if not happy.

Chapter 31

During this time we had been ignoring the symphony
concerts for the most part. There had been other
concerts since that first one, but none by composers
either of us wanted to hear. The second major concert
of interest in the symphony season was at the mid-
point. This one had some pieces by one of my favorite
composers and I announced that we would be going. I
gave them two weeks notice.

Again, as before, the packages from The Guild began
arriving in sealed boxes shortly after my announcement.
Whether they wanted to go hear the concert or not, they
wanted to go just to see what was in the golden boxes.

The day of the concert started early. This time the
two women knew what to expect and they fully enjoyed
the pampering and primping that was done to them. By
the time the last technician was done, they were about
as on edge as I had seen them.

I smiled at Sally standing there in her short silk
robe. I handed her a set of headphones and a new CD
along with a steaming cup of her favorite tea.
Gleefully she curled up in the over-stuffed chair in my
office and went off into her own world. I could tell
she was curious about what I was going to do to Janey,
but she knew I treated the two of them differently.

I led Janey into her room. She was so excited I
thought she would burst. When I selected the first box
and handed it to her, she even squealed. Opening the
box she saw a jeweled collar similar to the one her mom had worn to the first concert. She looked up at me,
eyes sparkling.

"I know you're curious about the other boxes, Janey,
but I thought you should know that the Collar Rules
will apply tonight. If you don't want to wear your
collar, that's perfectly OK. I want you to know that.
Half of these boxes are just in case you don't want to
wear it tonight."

"Do I still get to keep all the presents?" Typical

"Yes," I grinned.

"Wow! Dad, it's beautiful!"

"So are you, Janey. I noticed you haven't been wearing
the collar every chance you get, and I just wanted to
make sure it's OK with you now."

"I was kind of looking forward to it, Sensei. These
nights are always so special, and," she grinned
impishly, "I don't just mean the presents. I was
hoping you'd think of it, too." With that, she slipped
to her knees and offered me the gift of her collar.
She must have been practicing with her mother, because
the gracefulness of her offering was exactly the same.
I fastened the collar and helped her stand.

I slipped off the silk robe she had on and stood back,
admiring her naked body. She was much more comfortable
with her nudity now, and reveled in my admiration of
her beauty. I went over and selected a second box, the
largest of the ones she would get tonight. She opened
it and gasped.

She pulled out an exquisite corset of deceptively
sturdy manufacture. It felt light as a feather, but I
had been reassured by the designers that the material
was strong and that there was no give in it.

Janey stepped into the garment and pulled it up. "Oh,

I grinned. I knew what she was thinking. It didn't
cover a thing. The top of the corset rested snuggly
under her youthful tits. The bottom barely touched the
top of her trimmed pubic patch.

I had her lean over, her arms braced on her vanity
table, while I cinched down her waist. As this was her
first corset, it wasn't as restrictive as the ones she
would be able to get into later, when her body had
adapted. I pulled the drawstrings as tight as they
would go, tied them off and then zipped up the heavy-
duty zipper. The zipper gave the garment a finished,
smooth look from the rear.

"Am I supposed to be able to breathe in this thing?"
she said, turning to me.

"Dunno," I grinned at her. "But who cares, really.
Look in the mirror and see what it does for your tits.
God, Cricket, you're beautiful!"

She turned, and saw what I meant. The gleam in her
eyes told me she liked what she saw, too. She ran her
hands up over her cinched waist and ended with them
cupping her breasts. Her eyes closed and she shuddered
as a minor tremor swept through her.

I pointed to the remaining boxes, kissed her lightly -
copping a feel or two as I did - and left to get her
mother ready.

I walked in a bit ahead of schedule. I took the
opportunity to drink in the beauty of my love. I
hadn't had much time lately to observe her unobserved.
Her eyes were closed as she listened to the music. Her
empty teacup was cradled in her hands. She looked very

She cracked one eye open when the CD was done. "That
was nice. Thank you, Master. I hope you didn't wait

I grinned like a schoolboy at her sitting there. I
almost hated to ruin that picture, but there was more
to do tonight. I offered her my hand and she took it,
smiling back at me.

I led her to our room. I took her jeweled collar from
her jewelry box and handed it to her. Immediately she
knelt down and offered me her collar, which I locked
around her neck. I took her hand and helped her stand.

I left her standing there and went in to get Janey.
She was just finishing inserting all the Rosen's
gadgets. It still embarrassed her to have someone
watch her put them in, so I usually let her do it
herself. She looked flushed, the corset adding extra
pressure and making it harder for her to bend.

I took the last remaining items, a pair of high-heeled
boots made of the softest leather, and slipped them
onto her feet. I probably touched her more than was
necessary zipping them up, but she didn't protest.
From her moans and sighs, I would say just the
opposite. She just grinned at me when she saw how tall
the heels were. By now she knew of my penchant for my
ladies to wear very high heels, so these were not a
surprise to her. I helped her walk back to where Sally
was waiting.

"Oh, my!" was all Sally said when Janey appeared.

Sally looked around for her boxes and realized there
was only one on the bed. I picked it up and handed it
to her with a grand flourish. She tried not to look
hurt, but she didn't quite succeed. That all changed
when she opened it. She reached in and pulled out a
white leather riding crop. It was stiffer than any we
had in our collection.

I pulled a silk cord out of my pocket. I turned her
around and bound her wrists behind her back. I placed
the crop in her hands.

"Don't lose that, my Love, or there will be Hell to

While she was standing I had her stand with her legs
about shoulder width apart. I personally inserted the
Rosen's little devices in her. Sally didn't like them
as much as Janey, she said they took too much control
from her. They made her feel too good and they
frightened her. She was trembling when I finished
securing the earring posts through her pierced ears. I
sat her down and slipped a pair of hose on her legs,
then a pair of extremely high heels. She was flushed
and radiant.

I took another cord from my pocket and motioned for
Janey to turn around. I tied her wrists together as
well, and led both of them to the front door. There I
placed the green cape around Sally's nude form and
snapped the closures down the front. I pulled out
another blue cape for Janey and slipped it around her

The limo was waiting, so we exited the house and drove
to the concert hall. I made sure we had the same
excellent driver. Since Janey was not my `date' this
evening, both my slaves had `equal' status. I quickly
realized that both were very greedy when it came to
having possession of my cock in their mouth. It became
a near ugly contest very quickly, with Janey holding
her own.

I pulled Sally to me and kissed her deeply. As I
expected, Janey swooped down and took possession of my
swollen prick. "Let the youth do the work, dearest," I
whispered to her alone. Sally giggled as I slipped my
hand inside her cape and took possession of one of her
fine breasts. We made out like teenagers for the rest
of the trip.

The driver gave us the two-minute warning by flicking
the dome lights as she approached the concert hall. As
mine were the only hands free, I closed up my fly.
Janey actually groaned as it disappeared.

I helped both women out of the car, much to Sally's
surprise. She started to walk behind me, as she had at
the first concert, but I would have none of that. I
took both of them by their cape-covered elbows and
guided them up the steps and to our box seats.

The arrangements were similar to last time, but there
was only one chair flanked on both sides by padded
prayer benches for the girls to kneel upon.

As I settled them onto their knees I held the remote
controls that ran their devices where they could see
them. As I pushed each button, I showed them. By the
second button they knew what to expect and their eyes
got wider as I methodically turned on each device they
were wearing to a moderate level.

Sally was sweating immediately and, after seeking my
permission with a questioning look, gasped through the
first of her many climaxes that night. I knew they
didn't really appreciate my favorite music, but maybe
in time they would learn to have whole new appreciation
for it. It would certainly be fun to try.

As the orchestra finished its tuning and warm ups, I
leaned back and prepared to enjoy the music. I nudged
the remotes up as the first bombastic notes filled the
concert hall. I don't think either Janey or Sally
heard a single note. I nudged the remotes up another
notch as each selection began. Sally groaned with a
mixture of terror and pleasure as each piece ended.
Janey just knelt there, a glazed look of bliss on her
face. I could sense she was riding wave after wave of
pleasure. She wasn't fighting it like her mom was and
her enjoyment was palpable.

Intermission came and I turned their units off. They
needed a break. Janey wasn't pleased with the absence
of the stimulation, but grinned at me after her little
pout. I helped her to her feet, then turned to help
Sally stand. Janey wandered towards the front of the
box and was looking down over the audience. I was
embracing Sally, feeling her fabulous ass beneath her

Suddenly, it was like a flash of lightning stuck both
Sally and I. We looked at each other, then turned to
Janey. She was ashen and swaying like she was going to
fall. Her eyes were fixed on a point down below us.

I sat Sally down on her bench, then went calmly over to
Janey. I helped her back from the edge of the box and
sat her in my chair, away from the prying eyes below.
There was no need to look at what had frightened her.
I knew without looking. Sally knew. I looked just to
be sure. I was right.

Gary was back in town.

Chapter 32

When Janey was seated, I went back to the edge of the
box. I motioned for Sally to come up behind me, to use
my body as shield from being seen by anyone below us
who happened to look up. She understood and stood just
off my shoulder.

Gary was not hard to pick out. He, too, had two
beautiful women with him. They were as dark and tan as
Sally and Janey were blonde and fair. Upon closer
inspection, one was much younger than the other.
Another mother-daughter pair, I bet myself.

"I-I-I know her," came the quiet voice from behind me.
Janey had come up and stood, like her mother, behind
me, using my body as a shield. "She's new to my
school, a year younger. She has an accent."

I watched him. He was cocky, confident, and sure of
himself. He obviously dominated the older female and
enjoyed terrorizing her by fondling the younger woman
in public. His hands roamed the young girl's body
freely and nearly obscenely, causing more than one
matronly gasp from the staid bystanders. The mother stood meekly, eyes pleading. Strangely, the daughter was passive, not reacting at all, as if she were a

I don't know what it was or if we all came to the same
conclusion at once, but one moment I was standing there
despising that man and the next I was on the telephone.
I set in motion an information machine I hadn't often
used since I left the government's service. It would
take a few hours, but by then I would know all there
was to know about the man named `Gary'.

We left at the beginning of the second set. I called
the driver as we left the box. The car was waiting as
we exited the building, the driver holding open the
rear door. The drive home was silent and uneventful,
each of us lost in our own thoughts. Janey revived
sooner than Sally and I soon felt her steamy mouth
capture the head of my cock as she knelt down at my
feet. I caressed her smooth cheek as she lay her head
on my lap.

Her playfulness remained as we returned home. I'm not
sure if that was because she remembered my promise from
the last time or if she just figured that if both Sally
and myself were worried about Gary, she didn't need to
be. With both of us on the case, it was bound to turn
out right, right? Ah, the innocent trust of the na‹ve.

Inside the door, I relieved both of them of their
capes, exposing their beautiful bodies to my gaze. I
took the crop from Sally's hands and playfully swatted
her naked charms, teasing her with light to moderate
snaps on her very sensitive areas. She started to move
around the room and I followed her, finally finessing
her down the hallway and into our bedroom. There I
delivered a couple of harder swats to her ass, raising
her temperature several degrees. I laid the crop on
the makeup bench and turned her to me. Her eyes were
snapping, all thoughts of that ugly man pushed to the

I made her kneel in front of that bench and face the
crop. Her hands were still tied behind her. "Stay
here, please," I asked/ordered her. Then I left the

Janey was waiting impatiently, shifting from one booted
foot to the other. She was not facing the door I came
through so I was able to watch for several minutes
before she turned and saw me looking at her. Unlike
her mother, Janey blushed a deep, deep shade of red as
she realized I had just been standing there looking at
her nakedness. It made her seem all that more innocent
and alluring.

I took her elbow and led her to her own room. She got
suddenly shy and lagged a bit behind. I stopped
leading her and quietly took her and held her in my


She shook her head.

"What, then?"

"I don't know. I, I just don't know if I'm ready for

"Ready for what?" I teased.

"You know, for- for- it."


She was silent for a while, then with all the
enthusiasm of a kid who hadn't studied for an exam she
was about to take, led me into her room. She lay down
on her bed and awkwardly spread her legs. God, she was

"Now what?" I asked her.


"Now what?" I repeated.

"Aren't you going to, you know, do me now?"


She looked stunned, then slowly closed her legs in
embarrassment. "No?"


"But you promised. You said..."

"I said that next time it was your turn." I sat down
on the bed next to her.

"Right. I thought..."

"Cricket? Who's in charge here?"

Her slave name brought her up short. "Oh. Right. You
are, Sensei."

She lay in shivering disappointment as I removed the
various gadgets from her. Tears began flowing silently
as I unzipped and removed her soft leather boots. It
wasn't until I had her second wrist secured to her
headboard by the straps I had installed earlier that
she realized that something was going to happen. She
almost choked on her sob of relief.

I waited until she was breathing normally then patted
her on her legs, indicating for her to spread them
again. This was a touchy time. The last time someone
had been between them had been traumatic for her. I
wondered if she would do it.

It took her a little time, but she did, smiling bravely
up at me, offering me open access to her most private
areas. I moved between her spread legs and knelt
between them. I caressed the smooth skin of her thighs
gently. I could feel her fear and I almost pulled
back. I don't know why I kept on, but I did. I guess
I didn't want to waste her courage, to mock it.

"Now it's your turn, Cricket," I said softly as I bowed
my head and kissed that softest of skin on the inside
of her thighs. Nothing more was said as I proceeded to
bring her to heretofore unknown heights of ecstasy
using only my tongue. She was screaming and thrashing
her blonde tresses as she came over and over.

I started to remove her corset when she was sated, but
she shook her head `no', pleading with her eyes. I
silently nodded my assent, then inserted into her cunt and asshole the larger sized appliances that had been
custom made for her by the Rosen's. The diabolical
ones. The ones that plugged into the wall and didn't
wear down.

I tied her ankles to the footboard and left her
corseted and spread-eagled for the night. She wouldn't
get much sleep. I had programmed those big vibrators
for `simmer.' They would monitor her biofeedback and
keep her at a fever pitch until they were turned off.
About once an hour they would let her go over the edge,
then they would keep her at that higher level until the
next push to the next level. By morning she should be
nearly crazy. Of course, she could get loose with a
stiff pull, but she wouldn't do it. I turned my
attention to my next task, my love.

Sally was weeping silently as I came in the room. I
knew she was as unsure as I was of what she had asked
me to do with Janey. I opened my fly and pushed my
dick under her nose.


She did, hesitantly. She wasn't sure if I was rubbing
it in or what. She jerked her head up in amazement as
she realized she didn't taste cunt juice.

I leaned down to kiss her. "Taste," I said, smiling

She kissed me gently, then, with the tip of her tongue,
tasted her daughter's juices on my face.

"Forgive me, Master, for doubting you."

"You're forgiven. But I'm still going to use the crop
on you tonight," I said with a wicked grin on my face.

Sally gasped at that reminder. I thought she got a
little paler, too. As much as she sought the pain and
submission, she still feared my inexperience. I hoped
tonight would help her get over that fear.

I helped her kneel in front of the bench with it
touching her ass. I then bent her backwards over the
bench as she had been that first night. This time,
however, I tied her wrists to her ankles under the
bench. Her tits were prominently offered to my whims,
as was her defenseless twat.

I started lightly, teasing the tips of her tits,
flicking it with the end of the white crop, caressing
them, almost. I laid a couple of light strokes quickly
across her taut belly, warming the flesh there. Then I
worked her shoulders to a ruddy glow, avoiding the
super sensitive neck areas. Still, the numerous blows
tantalizingly close to her face and neck made her
shudder. Slowly, as I worked the tensions and pain and
pleasure in her higher and higher, she realized I had
not misplaced one single blow with the dangerous
weapon. I felt her fears relax as she gave herself up
to the pain and pleasure.

I led her down the path she desired, wringing cry after
heart wrenching cry from her. Still she wanted more
and harder from me. Her tits were blazing red, a mass
of mottled color, but without a single welt or drop of
blood. When she was maxed out and could go no higher,
I stepped in front of her and with a vicious but
calculated blow, I brought the crop up between her
thighs to land on her swollen and throbbing cunt lips.

I thought she was going to break her back. I had been
chasing and stirring the lights of her aura, teasing
her and arousing her with the pain she sought. But
this was like a super nova. I had never seen so bright
a light from either her or Janey's auras. I played the
crop off the sides of her inner thighs, as close to her
crotch as I could get. I teased her with the pain,
then I would deluge her with it. She slipped into a
state of mind I don't think she knew existed. She was
far beyond the singing stage that Bala talked about.

If I could not have seen her aura to help her, to watch
her, I would have been terrified for her. As it was, I
was able to sense her needs and guide her as she
existed on that sensual plateau. Later, I lay beside
her in bed as she dreamed, or whatever she did. She
was so relaxed, yet so energized. I drifted off to
sleep, Sally cradled in my arms.

I woke later to find her watching me with quiet eyes.
There was no fear anymore, only love. I was her
Master. I tossed and turned for the rest of the night,
troubled by dark thoughts. I felt Sally's cool touch
trying to sooth me.

I must have drifted off sometime during that short
night, as I woke up alone, the first time in a long
time. I remembered why I didn't like it. I also
missed my morning blowjob by Janey, too, but then I
remembered I had left her tied to her bed. Guess I
couldn't blame her for not getting up, huh? Still, I
wondered where Sally was.

I shaved and showered, again alone, so I finished in a
lot less time. I missed shaving Sally. She was so
appreciative of my attentions afterwards. I don't know
which of us enjoyed doing that more.

I dressed and wandered into the kitchen. I was
surprised to see Janey up and about, dressed and perky.
After the night she must have had, I was amazed she
could walk, but I guess they are right when they say
that `youth is wasted on the young.' She saw me come
into the kitchen and her smile lit up the room. I
caught her flying body in my arms as she threw herself
at me.

"Ooooooh, thank you, Daddy!"

"I take it you had a good time?"

"Oh, God! I didn't know it could be so good! I mean,
I've felt a little bit of it when you and Mom, uh, do
stuff, but - Wow! Oh, yeah, speaking of Mom, what in
the Hell did you do to her last night?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's like I was feeling great, you know, and
then WHAMO, this tidal wave comes over the link, but it
doesn't stop. It just kept coming and coming." She
giggled at her pun. "But it didn't surge like usual,
it just flowed, but not a lot. It's hard to describe."

I kissed her on the nose and gave her my Cheshire cat grin.

"Oh, not going to tell me, huh?" she teased back.
Then, seriously, "That's OK, Dad. She is incredibly
happy. I enjoyed what we did, too," she blushed, "not
just the licking part - but that was great! - but I
liked wearing the corset and being tied up, too. It
was a weird feeling, good, though. I didn't think I
would like it, but I kind of, well, like, felt secure
in it. I mean, I was as good as naked, but it felt
good, not naughty."

"Well, you certainly looked naughty. Lusciously,
deliciously naughty," I joked.

She giggled, then got serious again. It looked like
that was the way the morning was going. "I don't think
I'm ready for what you did to Mom," she said quietly.

"You don't know what I did, though, do you?"

"No, that's not what I mean. I meant I'm not sure I
could handle how mom felt. I don't know I would want
to come back down. She's stronger than I am that way."

I hugged her even closer. "Just say the word and I
will stop whatever it is you don't like or whatever it
is you're afraid of, even if it's that you're afraid it
is too good. I almost didn't do anything last night,
you know. You were so scared, but so brave. I'm proud
of you, kiddo."

This time it was her turn not to answer. She snuggled
into my chest.

"Where is your Mom, by the way?"

"She left about an hour ago, just after she let me up.
I didn't want her to but she was really serious. I
wouldn't let her take off my collar, though. What's
going on? She wouldn't tell me anything. She made a
telephone call, then rushed out."

I reached behind her head and unsnapped her slave
collar for her. She sighed as I slipped it into my
pocket. We stood for a long time that way, a father and daughter. I could almost have believed we were a
normal family, until I felt her tiny hand wend its way
down to my jeans and unzip my fly.

"You didn't, uh, get any relief at all last night, did
you, Dad." It was a statement.

"Guy's won't explode if they don't cum, Janey.
Regardless of what your boyfriends tell you."

"Daaad! I don't have a boyfriend," she protested, a
bit too strongly, I thought.

"Well, last night was for you and your Mom. I can

"Well, this morning is for you," she quipped, as she
wiggled out of my arms and down to her knees. She
latched on to my cock with the full force of her mouth
and began seriously sucking and bobbing. Even though
she had been doing this on a daily basis, with her
nearly naked and in my bed, this blowjob seemed sexier
than any she had ever given me, with the exception of
the first one. This time both she and I were fully
clothed, and in the kitchen. It was somehow highly
erotic, highly charged. I held off as long as I could,
but I blew into that luscious mouth in much too short a
time. Janey didn't stop with one load, though. She
seemed determined to drain me of all the excess build-
up from last night.

Sally came in carrying a heavy canvas bag while her
daughter was still busy on her knees. She stopped and
looked at us and gave me a wry grin. "Damn, I wanted
to say `thank you' first. She beat me to it."

"Uh, I think there'll be more when she's done, Love," I
grinned back. I was amazed there was no jealousy
between them. "I missed you this morning."

She looked appalled, as if she had made a serious
miscalculation by leaving. "I, uh, I just, I..."

"It's OK, Love. I didn't mean anything by that. I
just missed you and our time together. I wanted you to

She got all teary eyed and blubbery on me. For the
second time that morning I had to catch a launched
body, only this time I had a hot sucking mouth attached
to my groin that hampered me. I managed.

Sally smothered my face and chest with kisses. Then
proceeded south. I don't know how she managed to
dislodge Janey from her possessive sucking, but soon I
recognized Sally's talented mouth on my shaft. I
cracked open my eyes and saw Janey standing there,
grinning at me.

"Feel better, now, Pops?"


"Yeah! You shot off so quick this time, like you just
`popped', you know? So... Pops!" She giggled at my
responding growl.

I maneuvered my butt over to a chair and settled in it.
With Sally on her knees, Janey busied herself with
breakfast. No fancy cooking today. Today it was dry
toast and yogurt. Only by wheedling could I get her to
make the coffee.

Sally swallowed, then stood up. She still looked
weepy. I guess she was still being whipsawed by the
emotions from last night. She settled on my lap after
carefully putting away my softening cock. She fed me
breakfast as I held her. I could tell she needed to be
held. But there was something else, too. She wasn't
normally this serious.

Janey cleared the breakfast mess and we sat together in
silence. When the last coffee was gone, Sally got up
and lifted the heavy canvas bag onto the table.
Unzipping it, she proceeded to set out two semi-
automatic rifles, two very large caliber pistols and
several dozen boxes of ammunitions for each. Talk
about breaking the mood!

"Done a little shopping, have you?" I quipped.

"You're going to be gone." Damn that woman! How the
hell did she know? I know for a fact I did not talk in
my sleep. How?

"Only a couple of days."

"He was too confident last night." She was referring
to that cocky son-of-a-bitch, Gary.

"I noticed. You want to tell me exactly what you said
to him to get him to leave?"


We both turned to face Janey, who never used language
like that. I raised my eyebrows in an unspoken
question to her.

"You're talking about him, right? Gary?" We nodded.
"God, I remember that night, what happened. I must
have only been, what, 11? Anyway, she didn't say
anything to him, Dad."


"Nope. Not a word. But we were patching bullet holes
in the walls for months. She must have shot a hundred

I turned to Sally. "I thought you said you couldn't

Janey chimed in before Sally could speak. "Oh, she can
shoot. She just can't hit anything. She missed the
bastard ..."

"Janey! Watch your language!"

"...every single time, except the last one that blew up
his car. And you called him a `bastard' yourself, Mom,
along with some other choice names."

I sat in stunned silence. It takes incredible talent
to miss that many times at such close range. I had
seen her shoot. I had suspected she was too good to
have been a novice, even if she had screwed up with the
safety on my gun. My pistol was an unusual model, so
she may not have known where it was or how it operated.
Regardless, I knew what it was like to be shot at. I
knew why Gary had stayed away. Up until now.

That didn't tell me why he was back. Or if he had
plans for Sally and Janey. He may have seen Janey's
picture on tv after the attack. It could have stirred
old feelings of revenge. I didn't know. I just knew
there was some unfinished business and I hated loose
ends. I had to tie things up.

I looked at the weaponry spread out on the table.
Sally had selected well, if she was going to stop an
elephant. Or an enraged man. I also didn't think she
intended to miss this time. I didn't intend to let it
get that far.

I knew what it was to kill a man, what it did to you
inside. In the course of my agency work, I had had to
learn to kill. I had done it very well. Too well, for
my taste, even if the targets had deserved it.
Something dies inside of you each time you take a life,
though, and there had been many times. Too many, but
even once was too many when it came to killing - or
dying. I did not want that to happen to Sally or, God
forbid, Janey. I, myself, would avoid doing it again
if I could. If I couldn't, well, that was a bridge to
cross when I came to it.

"You can't stay here. He knows the house too well."

"I was going to take Janey to Mac and CeCe's place for
a while."

I thought about that. "Mac's out of town for a series
in Seattle. CeCe works all over the area and couldn't
be there all the time. I'd rather you go stay with
Marion, my sister. She's just moved back into our
folk's house and has plenty of room. Her court isn't
in session right now and I know she'd love the

"I don't know her that well."

"My point exactly. Neither does Gary. He may know
about your relationship to CeCe."

"Oh. Right. OK. Will she be OK with those?" She
indicated the guns.

I grinned. "She can probably train you how to field
strip them, although something tells me you know how
already. There's a target range in the second
basement, too. Oh, and have her show you her assault
weapons collection."

"I thought she was a Federal Judge! Aren't those kinds
of guns illegal?"

"Yeah, but they only get really excited when you wave
them around on the White House lawn. Some of them in
the collection are mine, too." She looked at me even
more shocked. "What, I can't have some toys...?" I
asked in mock exasperation.

After that there wasn't much to say. Sally and Janey
packed and left. Just before they drove off, Sally
hugged me goodbye.

"Be careful, Larry. Janey's right. He is a bastard.
A ruthless and dangerous bastard"

Janey just squeezed me like she never wanted to let go.
I felt the same way, but things had to be finished. I
couldn't let that unknown threat stay out there. I had
to at least know what the man was like.

When they were gone I made my way to a nondescript
building in the center of town. Most towns have one of
these quiet structures, those buildings that look like
offices, generally close to the municipal offices, but
no one actually knows anybody who works there. They
may have the first floor or two occupied by small shops
to make the building look occupied, but the buttons to
the upper floors are disabled or missing in the

The entry to the upper floors in this building was
restricted to the underground garage, another part of
the structure most people didn't remember being built.
The entry to the garage was two blocks over, through
the restricted parking garage under the city hall, so
the general public never saw it. Most city employees
were too dull to notice the extra cars disappear
through that locked automatic garage door on the second
level. The ones who weren't were too smart to ask

Stepping off the elevator on the top floor of that
building, I slid my ID into the reader. I underwent a
retinal scan, a voice scan and had my fingerprints
checked. It always amazed me how much detailed
information the government had and to what extent it
went to hide that knowledge from the public. And all
this happened in what was supposed to be a so-called
democracy. If the public had even the smallest clue
exactly how much their government knew about them, they
would tear it down, brick by brick. I used to think it
was the price we paid for our freedom. Now I wasn't so
sure. Those nagging unanswered questions were the main
reason I was no longer active for the agency.

I still had full access, however. They liked me. I
had done well for them, and never screwed up, e.g., got
caught. I also knew where too many bodies were buried,

Our local analyst had just finished with the
information I had asked for. He looked up at me as I
came through the heavy metal door and grinned.
"Interesting case," was all he said.

That got my attention immediately. Most Americans,
99.99% of them anyway, live humdrum, mundane lives,
those `lives of quiet desperation'. They are
uneducated, unmotivated, apathetic, lazy, boring, bland
or any combination thereof, yet corporately, they have
been capable of achieving some of the greatest feats in
history, when properly aroused. Our current government
felt it was their sacred duty to keep the people from
becoming motivated to any action, whatsoever.

The analysts for the agency had seen it all. If agents
like me were the legs of the agency, the analysts were
the brains. They spent most of their waking hours
looking at trivial, seemingly unrelated data points and
finding critical patterns. From those patterns emerged
their best guesses. Some of them were able to make
very good guesses about the behavior of certain types
of people.

Our analyst was one of the best. We had worked
together before and kidded each other good-naturedly.
I accused him about being a closet voyeur and he was
always asking me to introduce him to my ex-girlfriends.
We never saw each other socially, however. It just
wasn't done. I think he grudgingly admired some of the
work I had done, or had been able to accomplish based
on his work, as he put it. What these guys never
admitted to was being surprised. So, for a case to be
`interesting' to him meant that Gary was different. To
me, that meant he was dangerous, unpredictable.

He handed me a surprisingly thin file. I took it to a
secure office and locked myself in. I would have to
give him back the exact same file before I could leave
the floor. Security was really tight and I didn't

The file on Gary was interesting. I reviewed his file,
always with the awareness that there could be some
critical piece of information that was missing,
something that the government just didn't know. Nobody
could know everything. I looked through the list of
his known girlfriends and the dates they had been
together. I saw Sally's name and cringed. That would
cross-link back to my file. I would have to be extra
careful that, if anything terminal happened, it
couldn't be traced back to me.

While he had been with Sally for a long time, there
were a number of others he had also seen during that
same time period. He had two-timed her. I saw that
pattern run throughout his relationships. One steady
girl, a lot of flings.

One of the other names I recognized, or thought I did,
and it brought me up short. A name from my past. I
got a sinking feeling in my gut. This girl was the
daughter of a friend of mine from Chile. I remembered
her as a high-spirited wisp of a girl, determined to
make it in a man's world and totally unprepared for the
consequences. Not exactly spoiled, but naively unaware
of the evils of poverty and the depravity of which
mankind was capable. Juan Miguel had protected his
daughter too well.

She had run away from his loving home, come to New
York, and then after a couple of months had gone
missing. I was in Chile when she had disappeared,
working with him. I owed him my life, in fact, but
that's another story. He had been distraught when she
ran away, especially to New York, but she was a
headstrong girl. Her subsequent disappearance had
devastated him. She called herself `Miki' and
pronounced it like the shoe company `Nike.'

I found the specific piece of information I was looking
for buried in a list of his assets, hidden under an
assumed name. He had used several aliases, which
didn't surprise me. That he used them as well as he
did, did. Most people get clumsy and screw up. He
didn't. He was too good to be lucky. Gary had been
trained, and by a top group, too, was my guess.

When I handed the file back to the analyst, I pointed
out the list of known associates. I knew several of
them, fellow agents or agents with other agencies. "Is
he one of us?"

He grinned at me, always seemingly amused that I could
think. "Not that I could tell. I looked as deep as I
could, and that's pretty deep. Hell, I can get your
file. The good one, your operations file."

I was impressed. I couldn't even see that file. "Any
chance he's deeper?"

"Not with his profile. He's interesting, but, well, we
know just a little bit too much about him. If he were
any deeper than you were, we wouldn't know anything.
Hell, your file is only two pages long and most of that
is what you told me!" He grinned wryly. "I haven't
gotten around to entering some of it, you know. Just
too busy. Of course, if I had a nice lady to go home
to, I would be even busier..." he tailed off, hinting.

I looked up at him sharply. He knew about Sally. I
had mentioned her to him several times, especially
since I was living with her now and had to let him know
where he could reach me in an emergency. He paled at
my look and knew he had tread too close to blackmail to
suit me.

"Damn, Sampson, you know I'm joking," he blustered
lamely. "Besides, they already know about her," he
added softly. "They are really insistent about knowing
everything about you, you know." He glanced around to
see who could overhear us. "I shouldn't even tell you
that, though."

"I know. This one just hits too close to home. For a
couple of reasons. But I'm a little touchy about

"Yeah. I saw that when that bastard spoiled brat of a
jock raped her daughter. He got off lucky only losing
one ball." His voice was venomous. "What exactly did
you do to get rid of all that media?"

"You don't know?"

"I tried like the devil, but corporate lawyers are the
hardest bunch to crack for information. We still
haven't got a clue."

I told him what I had done, about the letter, the

He just chuckled. "Damn, you play hard ball."

From him, I took it as a compliment.

The key piece of information I had found in Gary's file
was an address. Not just any address. It was an
address in a middle class residential part of town.
One of the biggest secrets the government doesn't want
you to know is that the greatest threat to the security
of America resides in the vast middle class
neighborhoods. Not from any of the middle class
Americans who live there, but from the enormity of the
apathy that does. No one cares who lives next door as
long as they mow the grass, don't make noise at night,
don't park clunkers on their lawns and above all, don't
lower the property values. No one knows who lives next
door to them, either. You could deliver an atom bomb
and then hide it in a basement in suburbia. No one
would know. No one would have a clue.

That's what I found here. Gary had discovered the
anonymity of suburbia. I had asked Sally if Gary had
ever taken her to his place for a party or anything.
She had said no, only her place, hotels or sleazy bars.
Towards the end, she said, he had been hinting that
they could do more bondage stuff at his special place
full time, but kept implying that Janey was a problem.
He had kept trying to get her to pull Janey out of
school and home school her. Sally had refused,
insisting that Janey needed the social interaction.
But he had never taken her anywhere that might have
been his safe house.

I was impressed when I drove by the house. He could
have qualified to entertain the president with the high
level of security he had installed. None of it was
classified that I could tell, as it was all
commercially available - at a hefty price, too. As it
was, it was almost a challenge for me to break in
undetected later that night. Almost. It was good. I
was better. It made me wonder what he had to hide that
was worth what that setup must have cost him.

I was sickened when I found out his dirty little
secret. With all the external security he had
installed, he didn't feel he needed a safe. It
wouldn't have done him much good, anyway, so he
probably saved himself some bucks. The bastard was
meticulous, all the photos and videos were neatly
labeled and dated. There were several files of photos
and videos labeled `Sally' with dates that corresponded
with the time they were together. There was also one
video cassette labeled `Miki.' My guts were in a
twisted knot as I slipped that one into the VCR. I
dreaded what I would find, but even I was unprepared
for the brutality of the film.

Miki, beautiful, proud, brave Miki was tied to a bed.
The film showed Gary talking to her, telling her that
he just wanted one more thing from her and then he
would let her go. He wanted to make a film with her.
She spit in his face. He slapped her. She spit at him
again. He hit her. Back and forth. He got tired
first, but they were both covered with her blood and
spittle when he quit hitting her.

He kept a knife at her throat as he released her
wrists, then handcuffed them in front of her. The next
scene showed her dangling from her cuffed wrists, her
beautiful face swollen and bleeding, but still
recognizable. He approached her with a heavy-duty
cattle prod. She was screaming in pain, swearing in
Spanish at him. Then he cut her intentionally with his
big knife. Badly, across her face. A look of horror
and realization flooded her proud eyes. As protected
as she had been from the seamy side of life, she still
knew what kind of film she was going to be the star of.
To her credit, she refused to cooperate with the

From that point on in the movie, she made no sound,
made no movement at all that wasn't literally forced
out of her body. Oh, he could still get her to twitch
with the cattle prod and moan when he cut her, but for
all practical purposes she was a slab of beef swaying
on a meat hook. Then, just as I was about as sickened
as I could get, she mustered her waning strength. In a
clear voice that would have done her father proud, she
turned her face and spoke to the camera.

"My name is Madonna Micheala Lucinda Carmalita de la
Fernando. The souls of those buried here around me are
crying out for vengeance. I swear upon their souls and
the soul of my sainted mother that my father, Senor
Juan Miguel de la Fernando, will hunt you to the ends
of the earth and bring you to justice." It had taken
all of her strength to say that, and from then on she
just hung there.

I sat there in the darkened house, stunned into
immobility as I watched him callously finish her off,
but her final haunting words gave me the structure of a
plan. Before I left, I checked out the rest of the
house. I found the room in which the film had been
made. It was the only room in the basement with a
solid floor. The rest of the basement flooring had
been removed, leaving only dirt. I looked over the
rows of mounds of dirt laid out in an orderly fashion.
Dozens of graves. One was Miki's. One might have been
Sally's. I vomited and left, taking the several videos of Sally and the one of Miki, as well as the two thick files with their photographs with me. Fuck the rules
of tampering with evidence. There was more than enough
evidence that I left behind. Even Clinton would have
had a hard time denying this one.

I called Juan Miguel the next day. It was one of the
hardest telephone calls I had ever had to make. I told
him straight out I had found what had happened to Miki.
And I had proof who did it. Would he like to see the
proof? I cautioned him it was the worst thing I had
ever seen. He knew I had been in some tough situations
and that I had seen a lot of the worst the human race
had to offer.

My bluntness seemed to stir him to life. He wanted to
see it. I over-nighted it to him. He called me back
the next day after viewing the tape. He wanted

Now that I had his cooperation, over the next couple of
days, it wasn't hard to get Gary to cooperate with my
plan. He had one Achilles heel, and that was he needed
money to maintain his lifestyle and his image. A lot
of money. A friend of a friend of a friend told him of
a lucrative opportunity in Santiago, Chile. His friend
told Gary that he would do this himself, but that hands
were full, etc., etc., but if Gary wanted to go down
and shepherd this deal through, this big South American
honcho would cut him in for a stiff percentage. Just
go down, bring back a fugitive for someone who couldn't
enter Chile for political reasons and so on. In other
words, a political kidnapping. Just the kind of thing
to hook a guy who hung around with black ops guys, a
`wanna be.' Gary fell for it hook, line and sinker.

I told Juan Miguel that Gary would be down the day
after next and which flight he would be on. I had Gary
shadowed by someone Juan Miguel knew, insurance that
Gary would arrive in Santiago and also to act as a
Judas to point him out to Juan Miguel's agents. When I
told the shadow, an acquaintance, what was going on he
did it gratis.

When the shadow reported back three weeks later, I was
pleased to hear that Juan Miguel had not blown Gary
away in the airport. I'm sure he was tempted to, but
he was a better man than that. A beautiful servant
girl had met Gary at the airport. He was ushered to a
waiting limo and then leisurely driven to a hacienda
deep in the hills surrounding that beautiful city.
Another agent working for Juan Miguel and known to the
shadow had met the shadow as well. He was offered the
opportunity to watch Chilean justice in action.
Curious, he too, was driven to the hacienda, taking a
quicker route. They arrived before Gary and the maid
and were waiting in a private viewing room, watching
the proceedings through a one-way mirror.

Gary was visibly impressed with the accommodations.
This was real power. He was seated in a comfortable
chair in a place of honor. Seated where he was,
though, he couldn't see the movement of the people
behind him. One by one, the august group of sham
politicians who had been there to greet him left the
room and were replaced by armed guards. Juan Miguel
kept Gary focused on him by telling one ribald anecdote
after another. When the last soldier was in place,
Juan Miguel told Gary he wanted to show him a clip of
the fugitive. They darkened the room and turned on a
huge wide-screen TV.

The image flickered then became clear. They had cut
down the image so that just Miki's face showed. Her
voice came across loud and clear, even into the room
where the shadow was watching. After the short clip,
Juan Miguel stood and said, "Perhaps I should formally
introduce myself. My name is Juan Miguel de la
Fernando, and that was my only daughter. I should also
introduce you to Col. Eduardo Perez. He is the
commander of a small government penal facility at the
southern tip of my country, outside of Punta Arenas.
He has seen the entire video you made of my lovely
daughter. He will be arranging for your accommodations
for the remainder of your stay with us."

With that, he turned his back on the murderer of his
child and walked proudly out of the room. Gary, true
to his nature, tried to fight his way out when he
realized he had been lured into a trap. His brief
struggles ended with his nose meeting a rifle butt. I
don't think the rifleman cared much for Gary, either.

The shadow was invited to observe Gary's confinement.
It was brief, but it left the man shaken to the core.
All he said was that Gary, or what was left of him
after living in a rat-infested hole, died in less than
two weeks, a very old man. I knew what he meant.

The shadow then told me that Col. Perez had asked him
to relay a message to me. Apparently Juan Miguel had
told him of how he came by the video. The message was
that `between honorable men, all is forgiven.' He had
also extended an offer to visit him in Chile.

I thanked the shadow, my friend, and shuddered to think
of re-visiting Col. Perez. I had already visited him
once. That was enough. That small government facility
was a maximum-security hellhole dubiously called a
prison. I had been there, myself, in the same place as
Gary, with a collar the size of a manhole cover locked
around my neck. With the rest of my body crammed into
a putrid, rat-infested sewage pipe and the manhole
cover locked to the ground, only my head was visible.
I shuddered as I remembered the horror of trying to
defend my weakened body from the attacks of the
ravenous rats I couldn't see. Sleeping under those
conditions was out of the question, too. I could
believe he died an old man. You aged very quickly
under those circumstances.

Col. Perez was the only law in that part of Chile.
What he said overruled any other authority within his
jurisdiction. He and I had had a difference of opinion
while I was in his town. As a result, he wanted me to
stay in his prison. I did not. I think I am the only
person to have escaped from that place, though I still
regret the necessity of crippling two of the guards in
the process. Given the savagery they lived with, it
might have been kinder to kill them outright. I heard
later that the other inmates had found them crippled
and had tortured them to death.

That detail of the other inmates killing the guards had
been left out of the report to the local authorities
and thus, the search was on for a `cop killer.' The
search ended when I crossed out of his jurisdiction
with the quiet help of Juan Miguel, which is why I owed
him my life. Without his help, I am convinced I would
never have made it. I was wounded, exhausted,
penniless and drained of every ounce of energy I
possessed. I was down to my last hope and Juan Miguel
came through for me. Giving him closure on this
horrible incident was the least I could do for him.

As a final chapter to the story of Gary, I wrote up my
report on the incident, complete with my involvement
and of my relationships with Sally, Miki and Juan
Miguel. I never cut corners in my reports, I never
lied. Sometimes it hurt, but eventually, it had always
served me well. I wasn't about to change now.

I e-mailed my report to the analyst. He called me back
almost immediately and asked a couple of questions,
then rang off. A couple of days later he called me
down to the anonymous building downtown.

"Watch this," he said mysteriously. "The show is just
about to begin."

I looked at what appeared to be a video feed from a
stationary camera. I recognized the house as Gary's
suburban hideaway. Suddenly, like a scene from the
Keystone Kops, federal and local law enforcement
vehicles began filling the screen, lights flashing
crazily in the dark. Several agents with a yellow
"FBI" emblazoned like targets on the backs of their
dark blue windbreakers jumped out of a still-moving
vehicle and raced up to the front door, as if eager to
be the first ones on the scene. I knew, unless the
analyst had deactivated the alarms, that they had just
tripped three systems, two of which were booby-trapped.

"Did you tip them off?"

"Yep! Set up the camera feed, too, to watch the
fuckers screw up.

"Did you tell them about the security?" I asked him.

"Yep! I said the guy had tight security."

"Oh, God! You didn't describe the systems?" He shook
his head, grinning. "You know that to them, `tight
security' means the guy has a big dog."

I watched in horror as the first agent reached to open
the door. The ensuing explosion knocked him and his
partner flat on their asses. The other agents,
mistaking the explosion for resistance, proceeded to
try to blow the fucking house apart with small arms
fire and teargas grenades.

"You modified the explosives, you bastard," I chided
him. He just grinned. "You're just lucky those two
agents had the sense to stay down or they would have
stood up into friendly fire." He stopped grinning.
Analysts don't know or think of everything.

The FBI reported the shootout had been the culmination
of years of painstaking work by hundreds of agents to
capture a serial killer. They produced a credible
likeness of Gary and a conveniently bullet-riddled
corpse. The newspapers carried the photos of the dead
girls that were dug up in the basement. Due to the
carnage, several of the videocassettes had been damaged
so it wasn't too suspicious when there were more bodies
than tapes. Everyone just assumed one or two had been
destroyed in the shootout.

Miki was finally laid to rest in a proper grave.

Chapter 33

While I had been busy finding and setting up the sting
for Gary, Sally and Janey had also been busy. I should
have known better than to leave the two of them alone
with my sister. Although it still isn't clear what
part Marion played in all of this, I suspect it is far
greater than any of the three of them have ever
admitted to me, especially considering what happened as
a result.

To begin with, Janey had recognized the girl at the
opera as a student from her school. From there it was
a simple task to find out her name, Simone LeBrech,
that she was French, smart and extremely shy. Sally
took it from there and followed her home one afternoon
after school and found where she lived. The day she
had done that was the day Gary left for South America
and she saw him carrying his suitcase out of the house
and down to a waiting cab. She had been terrified that
Gary might have seen her, but she knew when he packed
like that he would be gone for at least a week.

She used the next week to set up a fictitious meeting
with the mother. Knowing Sally, she couldn't pull off
a lie to save her life, and the two women were soon
weeping and swapping horror stories about life with
Gary. Sally had come clean with her, so Nicole
confessed she was at her wit's end as Gary was sexually
abusing her little girl after he put Nicole into
bondage. He made her watch each assault. Lately, each
time he was getting rougher and rougher with the girl.

Sally liked Nicole immediately and wanted to help her
somehow. Her heart went out to her and being the kind-
hearted and generous person she was, she offered my
services, too. The only problem was, she hadn't asked
me first. In fact, I knew nothing of this, as I was
busy shanghaiing Gary.

So, there I was, innocently sitting at my desk, forcing
myself to work, or at least look like it. The last
week or two I had been out of touch with my clients
and, secure as their investments were, they liked to be
occasionally reminded I was watching out for them. I
managed to soothe a few ruffled feathers and nervous
nellies before I just gave up and stared at the blank
fucking wall.

That was how Sally found me when she popped into my
office. I was so preoccupied with not knowing how
things were going in Chile that I didn't notice her
until she finally cleared her throat.

I looked at her. She was sitting Indian-style on my
blotter and was offering me something. She looked very
serious. I really had been somewhere else mentally.
At first I thought she was handing me her collar, but I
knew this wasn't the position for that.

"What is that, Sally?"

"It is a thong of a bride." I remembered the story Amud had told me about the thong, and what it was for.
Sally's next words confirmed it. "I , uh, need to ask
you for a favor."

"Sally, you know that everything I have is yours. You
don't need a thong."

"Well, uh, it's kind of a special request, Larry. It
would require a thong. Believe me."

I should have known right then that something
catastrophic was afoot. I should have run like the
devil himself was chasing me. Did I? Nope! Call me
curious, call me stupid, I stayed.

"Is that your thong?" I didn't think she had had the
time to finish one, even if she had started when we
first knew about them.

She paused at that. " Uh, no. I borrowed one from

"Borrowed?" She nodded. "You've started one of your
own to replace it?"


"Borrowing is not a good idea, even from friends. Give
it back to her. Bring me your thong."

"It's not ready yet. This one can be used for singing

"Can the favor wait for the thong to be finished?"

"I don't think so."

I thought for moment, making her wait. She squirmed so
nicely when she was nervous. "Bring me yours. I will
accept it on the condition that you finish it."

Sally climbed down off my desk and left the room.
Three minutes later she came back in. Kneeling this
time, she offered up her thong to me. It was still
damp from having resided within her vaginal canal.

"You're offering me this as a slave?"

"Yes, Master."

"But you're not wearing my collar! How can I accept

Her hands flew to her neck. Blushing, and unusually
flustered for her, she scampered to the rack that held
hers and Janey's collars. Returning to her knees, she
offered me her collar. I fastened it on. Again, she
offered me the thong.

"Are you properly attired, slave?" I asked her in mock

Her look at me was definitely not that of a calm
submissive woman. She realized by now I was teasing
her. I think I liked her exasperated with me. Well, a
little bit, anyway.

It took her longer to return this time and I heard
other voices being shushed in the hallway. Still
glaring at me, she made her way over to my chair and
kneeled for a third time. Once more, she lifted the

"When was the last time you did your Head Time, slave?"
I realized that she was desperate enough that I could
get this to go on indefinitely. This could be

Her hands lowered slowly in surrender. She realized I
was going to make her work before I accepted the thong
from her. With a heavy sigh of frustration, she opened
my trousers and freed my hardening cock. This happened
far too rarely for me, having Sally in this position.
I settled back and relaxed, ready to enjoy the feeling
of utter silence and peace while having the head of my
cock bathed in my lover's mouth.

Sally gave an exasperated grunt as I settled back, but
did not break from her place. I let her wait for a
long 15 minutes before I gently caressed her cheek, a
signal she could finish.

"Thank you, Master. I have missed that, too." She
knew what I was thinking? God Damn!

This time, with utter supplication, she held up the

I accepted it, obliging me to honor her request. I
lifted the damp leather to my nose and inhaled the
scent of my love. I didn't realize yet what an
expensive bouquet it was going to be, but right then I
didn't care. I was still lost in the arousing aroma of
the thong and didn't notice when two other women
entered the room. Sally stayed bowed down, my prick
stayed standing free as she had left it, waving in the

I think she knew what my reaction was going to be to
her request. She was right to be a little afraid.
Pissed would be a nice word for it.

She introduced Nicole and Simone, mother and daughter.
They looked vaguely familiar. When she mentioned they
had been the two women with Gary the night of the
concert, it hit me. And I suddenly had an awful
feeling I knew what the favor was going to be. Really
pissed would be closer.

Her request was that I allow Nicole and Simone to join
the household. Permanently. Both were aware of our
lifestyle and were willing to join. Eager, in fact.
Nicole would be another slave and Simone would be,
well, another daughter, sort of.

I sat stone still, trying to convince myself of my love
for Sally, trying to figure out what in the fucking
Hell she was doing. Was she really offering me another
woman? I mean, sure, Nicole was nice to look at, but
shit, Sally and I weren't even married yet! I for
damned sure wasn't tired of her and didn't think I
would ever be.

My knuckles were white on the arms of the chair. This
one was metal, so they didn't snap like the one in the
kitchen. But they did bend a little. I tried really
hard not to yell at her, to humiliate her in front of
the people she was trying so hard to help. I zipped up
my pants for starters, my erection collapsing as the
totality of her request hit me.

God Damn fucking women. Don't they always know when
you've reached that last piece of rope? I was worried
about two of my friends, the shadow and Juan Miguel,
and she brings home two strangers. I had just sent a
man to his death, albeit justifiable in my mind, and
had put another friend in possible peril. The waiting
was killing me and I wasn't ready for this right now.

And things with Sally and Janey were going so well,
too! How is it that just when you finally get a good
grip on what's going on, they ask you to do something
that totally fucks up the system? And then want you to
fix it? God Damn it all to Fucking Hell!

I managed to do two things. I didn't yell at her and I
managed to remind myself that I loved her. I didn't
have a clue what she was trying to do, but if this was
important enough for her to ask for, it was important
enough for me to consider. OK, technically, by
accepting the thong, I had no choice. But,
technically, it wasn't our fucking custom, either.

I reached down and touched Sally's head. I nodded
curtly for her and the young girl to leave. Nicole
LeBrech stood before me, her head bowed down. I looked
at her for a while in silence. She was a fine looking
woman, different in most ways from Sally, and I will
admit, the sight of her stirred my blood. I felt
guilty, momentarily.

She sat down at my request in one of my office chairs.
I asked her to tell me her story, to be as complete and
honest as she felt she could be. It was odd, but I
could not sense her as I could Sally and Janey. It was
like there was a nothingness there, like the feelings
had been beaten out of her. When I thought back, I had
sensed something from Simone, but it felt different
than what I sensed form Sally and Janey. Like she was
more stiff or something. I couldn't place it and,
right then, I didn't have the time to think about it.
Nicole was talking.

She had been born in a little village outside of Paris,
France. Her mother had died in childbirth, so she had
never known her. Saddened by the loss of his true
love, but a proud man, her Papa had refused all help
from the village women and raised Nicole by himself.
He was a loving parent, but refused to dote on her. He
was a perfectionist himself and demanded her very best
efforts in all she did, often punishing her for
substandard efforts. He did not punish her for failing
when she had given her best effort.

Nicole had thrived in that atmosphere. She proved to
be exceptionally bright and finished her basic
schooling, the equivalent of American high school, by
the age of 15. At the graduation festivities, Nicole
got extremely drunk. Simone was born 9 months later.
She hadn't exactly been raped, but she didn't know who
the father was.

Papa took this development in stride. He moved to
Paris with her so she could start University. Simone
was born between end of term exams. Papa found a job
at night in an auto factory and helped Nicole raise
Simone until she finished with her Ph.D. work five
years later. She had a doctorate in neurochemistry.

Papa had been killed in an explosion at the auto plant.
Devastated and alone with a young daughter, Nicole had
latched onto - her words - the first man to come along
that showed any interest in her. Using her small
inheritance, he brought her to America, but, when the
money ran out, so did he.

Determined to make it, she called one of her Professors
who had taken an interest in her career. He referred
her to the president of a small biotech company near
where she was currently living in the US who needed a
neurochemist. For the next year or two, Nicole worked
hard, as Papa had trained her to and she did well.
Being beautiful helped and she had more and more
contact with the CEO of the company, an old curmudgeon
who had gone through several wives already. Nicole
rebuffed his advances, but the old bastard really fell
hard for her. He prevailed and they married, much to
the dismay of her other suitors.

She continued to do well, the company prospered from
her patents and, predictably, the old man died. He
died happy, in bed with Nicole, but it was traumatic
for her. He had left her everything her owned, other
than what went to the other wives and the stockholders.
He had been smart enough to have everything tied up
legally so they didn't contest the will. None of then
wanted to fight his lawyers again, it seemed.

Nicole and Simone had been naturalized to US
citizenship during this stint. She ran the company for
a while, but it wasn't what she wanted to do. She
missed the lab. She wanted out of the corporate rat
race. Through her own contacts in the industry, she
found a buyer for the company and made several people
very rich, including herself.

Being rich, single and beautiful would not seem to
present a problem to most people, but Nicole seemed to
attract smooth con men. She had invested her fortune
wisely and had put several roadblocks between it and
any confidence scheme, but that didn't stop the pricks
from trying. Most of them tried the wrong approach,
trying to sweet talk or woo her with flowers. Those
she felt comfortable with, as those she could handle.

Gary was the first one to touch her submissive nature,
and it rattled her to her core. Knowing of his quasi-
intelligence training, it did not surprise me that he
quickly found his way through her obstacles to her bank
accounts and was bleeding them at an alarming rate.
But even at the rate he was going, she had enough to
keep him in fresh Gucci's for another four years or so.

My ears perked up at that. That was serious money she
was talking about. It was also obvious that that
represented something more to her than just security.
If she became a part of the household, I would have to
make sure her money was kept totally autonomous from
mine. I would handle it the same way I did with Sally
and Janey's funds, but I knew I would have to take
special care to make her feel comfortable that I was
not after her money. It wouldn't be easy. If I had
that kind of money, I'd be suspicious of everyone, too.

She didn't say much about Gary. She didn't have to. I
knew what he put her through. The gentle seduction
into bondage, setting the hook, then the humiliation
and degradation. That he was actually abusing Simone
sexually to accomplish this humiliation disturbed me,
as I hadn't seen a pattern of young girls in his
profile. Simone was a mature young woman for her age,
that much I could see, but she was still a little
younger than Janey. There must have been something
special about her to attract Gary to her.

I had come to realize that I couldn't have been the
only person in the universe to have the ability to
`sense' emotions, as I had been doing with Sally and
Janey. I think, on some level, we all do. We just
never recognize it for what it is. I think pheromones,
facial expression and body language get confused in the
mix, too. Besides, being `sensitive' isn't always
considered to be a compliment to a male, although I had
always tried to be. I was beginning to realize that
Gary must have had the ability to sense a submissive
nature in women. Hell, he may even have had the
ability to project one onto them, but the thought that
that might be possible scared the living shit out of
me. He did seem to be able to `find' a lot of
submissive women, though, and I didn't recollect Miki
being like that. I shuddered and put the thought
behind me.

Nicole went on to tell me about Simone. It was like
watching a train wreck. Simone had shown early signs
of genius. Not like her mother. Smarter. Off the IQ
scale. She was also a pretty child and, for the most
part, well adjusted, especially for someone with her
brilliance. If she had a flaw, it was her instinctual
trust in males.

That had led to Nicole's first lover raping Simone at a
very young age. Nicole had not known about the
continued sexual assaults on her daughter until he had
run out. Simone's pediatrician had discovered the
signs of sexual activity after a routine exam. Nicole
was devastated at this. Children's services almost
took Simone away from her. If she hadn't found the job
at the biotech firm and moved out of state, they would
have. By the time they found her again, she was well
established at the company and the corporate lawyers
took care of the legal matters for her. For once, they
were good for something. I made a mental note to find
out more about that law firm. Lawyers with good hearts
were rarer than honest politicians.

Simone's escape from the misery and pain of the
betrayal of her trust was in learning. Books of all
kinds were her escape, the more challenging the better.
She was like a black hole when it came to learning.
She sucked in everything she came across from music to
medicine, Plato to physics. Often, she would have
trouble applying what she knew, but that was probably
because she knew too much. She had too many choices
and, really, how often in life is there just one right
answer? I had to smile at that. I was facing the same
situation right now, but I was desperately trying to
find a suitable alternative.

Nicole had kept Simone in school with children her own
age for her social development. She knew too well what
the consequences could be of being so much younger than
all the other kids. It was important for her that
Simone develop a social maturity that could help her
through the tough times she was bound to have ahead of
her, being as different as she was from everyone else
in the `smarts' department. Simone had been adjusting
well, trying to find her place in each class,
developing a friend or two to pal around with. It was
lately that things began to change.

Gary's abuse of Simone confused her. True to form, she
trusted him. He used that trust against her, then he
began abusing her, mentally and physically. Unlike
before, when she had been told to keep what was
happening a secret from her mother, Gary flaunted what
they did in front of her mother.

When Gary began hurting her, her reaction was to
withdraw. Nicole broke down at this point and I had to
wait for her to regain a semblance of self-control
before she could continue. Simone hadn't spoken for
the last three weeks, not to anyone, as far as she
could tell. At first she thought it was just a phase.
Then the notes from her teachers began to come home,
followed by a quietly panicked phone call from the
school counselor. From her previous experience with
Child services, Nicole was frantic, afraid she would
lose Simone for good this time, but didn't know what to
do. She had actually been preparing injections for
suicide for herself and Simone when Sally showed up.

I sat there, stunned that this woman could show such
composure with the trauma she had been though. I
wasn't prepared to deal with all her baggage, though it
seemed trite to label her very real emotional problems
that way. Another traumatized daughter was not on my
most-favorite list, either. I remembered the agonizing
Sally and I had gone through with Janey, and that was
just last week!

But, like Sally, my heart went out to her. She had no
one else. It touched a chord deep inside me,
challenged me to rethink the paradigms of my own life.
This time, it wouldn't just be me, but Sally and Janey
would help, too. Somehow I knew that was what Sally
intended, but making them a part of our family? It was
time to call Sally back in.

She entered at my call for her, apparently standing
right outside my door. One look at her face told me
she had known everything Nicole had just told me.
There was probably more tragedy, too, but the
highlights were enough for me. She came and knelt at
my feet.

"Go sit down, Sally. Consider your collar off for the
time being. I need complete and honest answers to some

I turned to Nicole. "In this house, I insist on
openness and honesty, even when you are in a submissive
role. Sally knows that, but I just wanted to remind
her. Now, I have to ask you some questions about how
you see yourself fitting in here. You know, as you can
see from Sally's attire and collar, that she has a
submissive role in this relationship. That is, by the
way, her preference, not my demand. Can you deal with

Nicole lowered her eyes, but didn't blush. "What that
awful man did to me gave me the most intense feelings I
have ever felt. I was hooked from the first soft rope
he used to tie me up. I am so ashamed of my weakness,
to have wanted it so badly, but I couldn't help myself.
It wasn't love. I knew that. It was worse. I could
find love almost anywhere. He was the only person I
knew who could make me feel like that. It was like a
drug, an addicting drug.

"It tore me apart when he touched Simone, but I was
helpless to stop him. I..." she broke down again,
"...I orgasmed at first, it felt so naughty, being so
helpless to stop him. At first he only touched her,
then he made her do things. Soon he was fucking her.
Three weeks ago he beat her."

She paused, thinking. "I have thought much about this.
I am not an ignorant person. I realize, since talking
to Sally, but not only that, that I need to be in a
submissive role, too. Yes. If this life is possible,
I want it." She looked over at Sally, who took her
hand in support. "I need it."

Shit! They were in this together, already. I still
had some questions.

"OK, you want to do this. What about Simone?"

Nicole looked up at me now, her eyes sharp and focused.
This seemed to be more like her normal approach to
life. "Sally has told me about how you are working
with Janey..."

In a moment of panic I focused my link on Sally and
shot her a questioning `Everything?' I wasn't sure if
it would work, but my heart rate and adrenaline were
high enough that if anything would make it work, it
should now. Amazingly, it did.

"No. Not `everything,'" she replied softly through the
link. I think we were both stunned at what we had just
done, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

" help her get over her attack. From what I have
seen of Janey, she seems very well adjusted. I
think..." she smile wryly, "...I think that this time,
for some reason, it is me who trusts you. I apologize
in advance, but Simone does not trust you or any man now, and is bound to give you trouble."

Ah, the magic button. The hook. A challenge. I
couldn't resist. Not after getting walking pneumonia
in college, not with the risk of losing Sally. Not
now. Knowingly or not, she had offered me the bait I

What was I thinking? It was going to be a challenge
fitting two more attractive and probably willing
females into a sexually charged environment. What she
was telling me about Simone made her an impossible
challenge. With emotional stakes as high as possible.
I was hooked.

"Sally, how did you see this working? How did you
think they would fit in here?"

She looked flustered. Thinking of something is one
thing. Saying it out loud, in broad daylight is
grounds for commitment to the loony bin. "They, uh,
well, they, er,..."

"Start with Nicole, here. What would be her role?"

"Oh, well, uh, I though we could share, you know..."
She just left it hanging.

"You thought you and I would share Nicole? I don't
need another slave."

Sally blushed, and glanced over at Nicole for support.
She must have gotten it, because she actually said it.
"No, Larry. I thought Nicole and I would share you.
And before you ask, yes, I have thought about this,
and, yes, we would share you in every way." She was
rather abrupt at the end.

Well excuuuuse me.

"What if she doesn't appeal to me?"

Two sets of eyes widened and stared at me, one in
horror that the owner might be found unsatisfactory,
the other pair in the horror that their owner's master
could have voiced such a tactless question. One pair
caught on that I was playing with them.

"Sally, it's OK. He said `what if'."


"He said `what if'. That means he likes me." Nicole
looked at me, suddenly shy. "I think."

I smiled broadly at having been caught out so easily.
Damn, I was going to have to get sharper in a hurry to
stay ahead of this one. And the daughter was smarter
still? Deep, deep shit we're in here, bubba. Deep,
deep shit.

I tipped back my chair and closed my eyes, trying to
think this out. Sally was trying to alter our
relationship and I thought I knew why. As overwhelming
as I had found her submissiveness earlier, I had seen
indications lately that she found my possessiveness of
her to be equally overwhelming. There had been hints,
even a small rebellion, in her own fashion.

This was not just another shot across the bows, though.
This was her solution. Served up on as attractive a
platter as I had seen, I must admit, but I didn't like
it. I didn't like not having a choice. This tasted a
little like an ultimatum.


"I know, Larry. You love me." She stopped, got up and
came over to my chair. She tipped me upright and sat
on my lap. "I don't like to shout that across the
desk," she said tenderly. "I love you, too. I always
will. Believe it or not, it won't change because of
Nicole, or Simone, or even Janey. I am absolutely
convinced of your heart, of your love, of your
intentions. It is that absoluteness that gives me the
freedom to ask this of you." She didn't add that it
was also that total dedication to her that was driving
her crazy. She always did have a kind heart.

"I know this won't be easy," she continued, "but you've
never shied away from the tough things, have you?" She
leaned down and whispered in my ear, digging into my
ribs with her fingers at the same time, "This one you
can fuck, too, lover. Really!" She collapsed in a
giggling heap as I dumped her unceremoniously off my
lap and onto the floor.

"All right! All right!" I had the attention of both
of them. "I'll agree, but with conditions." Sally
groaned. Loudly. It was almost a `God help us' moan,
but I couldn't quite make out the words.

"Nicole and Simone may move in. Until further
arrangements can be made, Simone will move into Janey's
room. Agreed?"

Sally nodded. It was always easiest to give away
someone else's privacy. I wondered what the two girls would say to having a roommate.

"Nicole? You will be Sally's submissive. She will be
your Mistress."

Sally sat there, open-mouthed, stunned. Speechless,
for once.

Chapter 34

The new arrangement didn't work. It was an uneasy
arrangement to begin with. Sally got stressed out in
about two days, which made it worse. She became
overbearing, surly, bossy. She couldn't handle being a
mistress to Nicole.

The decision had not pleased Nicole, either, though she
was in a submissive role, as she had wanted. She
suffered from a reluctant mistress, however, and in
short order, her more aggressive personality made the
situation worse.

It got a little better for a while after I gathered
them together and told them what had happened to Gary.
I called them all into the Free Room. I answered every
question I could. I told them about Miki. We watched
the news coverage of the funerals for the dead girls.
Sally and Nicole understood they owed their lives to
their daughters being in a public school. I thought we
were all bonding nicely, and that the roughest part was
behind us. Boy, was I wrong.

Sally tried to assert her dominance, I will give her
that. I found her tactics intriguing and filed them
away in case I needed to impress my mastery over Sally
in the future. First, she stripped Nicole of all
clothing. Not a shred of covering. Not that I minded.
Nicole was indeed a beauty, but about as different from
Sally as you could get. Where Sally was petite, Nicole
was statuesque. Tall, almost 6 foot. Her dark hair and olive complexion made Sally seem pale, even with
Sally's lightly tanned skin. Together with her
intelligent piercing aristocratic blue eyes, she was a
striking woman.

Nicole did not seem to have an ounce of excess fat on
her, now that I could readily see all of her. That's
not to say she wasn't feminine, far from it. She had
all the curves necessary to qualify, and then some.
Her breasts were about the same size as Sally's but
seemed smaller on Nicole's larger frame. Her waist was
incredibly narrow. Sally told me it was only 20
inches. I detected more than a little jealousy when
she told me that. Nicole also had that feature that
millions of men react to automatically. She had that
natural diamond-shaped open space between her thighs,
right at the top. Prehistorically, that meant a wide
carriage for bearing young and the eroticism of that
image was programmed into the male sex chromosome.
Sally had it, too, but Nicole... Oh, my! ...the first
time I saw her silhouetted in the light from the window
behind her, I think I began to finally lust after her.
That perfect diamond of light just below her crotch lit
a slow burning fire in me.

Next, Sally had Nicole sleep on the floor at the foot
of our bed. This I found interesting, as well,
because, if anything, her presence during our intimate
times added to Sally's stress and distress. She became
uneasy when we made love, to the point I had to remind
her who was boss. Well, at least, who it was who
thought he was boss, anyway. I never forced her to
have sex, but she didn't enjoy it as much with Nicole

Third was that she had Nicole doing all the shit work.
Cleaning, dusting, scrubbing, shopping - grocery, not
clothes, gardening, and so on. Everything but what she
was suited to do, which was to use her brain. Mindless

Added to all this was that Janey and Simone were not
getting along, either. Janey only had a single bed in
her room, so they were not only sharing a room, but a
bed, too. Simone was jealous of Janey's popularity,
Janey of Simone's brains. There were phone messages
that didn't get delivered, sabotaged reports and tests,
and so on. Simone was really trying to mess with Janey
and doing a good job.

For her part, Janey was trying to get along, if only
half-heartedly. She came to me one evening in tears,
sweaty from one of the pick-up basketball games.
Simone had begun to put a damper on these events, too.
I really think she wanted to participate, but she was
shy and unfamiliar with basketball. Janey poured out
all her woes, blaming everyone, including me,
obliquely, for the crap she had to live with.

I held her on my lap trying to work things out. This
mess was largely my fault. I know, I know. Sally's
way would have probably been better, but it still
rubbed me the wrong way to have her decide without
consulting me. Even if she was right.

I asked what Janey had done to make Simone's situation
better. She looked at me funny, as if it was a strange
concept that she might have to do something to help
Simone fit in. I asked her if she had ever made her
feel like she was welcome. Again she looked at me

I hugged her to me and, without thinking, I told her
that it might help Simone feel like she belonged if
Janey went out of her way to do something special for
her, to make her know she was wanted.

"Like what?" she wanted to know.

"I don't know. Just think about what would make you
feel special and wanted and do that for her."
Honestly, I didn't have anything in mind at the time.

Later that night, I woke to a familiar elbow in my
side. "Larry? You awake?"

"Uh-huh. Now I am."

"Oh, sorry. Did you talk to Janey today?"


"About Simone?"


"What did you tell her to do?"

Suddenly alert to the edge in her voice, I was now
fully awake. And I sensed it, too, but it was
different somehow. We had both sensed when Janey had
an orgasm and we were familiar with that. This one was
different, like it was learning how to feel good.

"God! It's her first orgasm!" Sally whispered to me,
after leaning over and checking on Nicole, just to make
sure she wasn't fingering herself.

"Should I check on them?"

"No. Let them finish."

"Them? How can you tell there are two of them?"

I could sense her smile in the dark. "Don't know. I
just do. Janey's giving Simone an orgasm. Again."

We both felt this one, too, stronger, more sure of
itself, more welcomed into the body it was entering.

Janey was diligent, I'll give you that. Simone was
cumming like a pro when Janey finally stopped working
her over. I slipped in to check on them when it had
been quiet for a while. I was greeted by a gorgeous
tangle of teen limbs. Simone was zonked. Janey was
still awake. I sat by her side and took her hand.

"What was it you did, kiddo?"

"What you said."

"Uh, I don't think I said to do anything like what just
happened here."

She grinned up at me. "You could feel her, too? God,
she didn't know what was happening to her!"

"And what was happening to her, Janey? Inquiring minds
want to know."

She sort of snorted when she giggled, most unladylike.
"Well, I thought about what you said, about doing
something to make her feel special and wanted. I
thought about what made me feel that way. Then I
remembered the time you did me with your mouth, about
how good that made me feel and all. So I did her."

"She didn't object?"

"Well, uh, I, uh, I kind of surprised her. After a
minute, when I didn't bite, she quit struggling."


"Uh-huh! I sort of tied her hands to the bed first,
like you did mine."

Oh God, I had created a monster.

"You didn't mind that she was a girl?"

"You mean that lezzie thing?"

"Yeah. People can be kind of mean if they find out."

"Oh. Simone wouldn't tell. And even if she does,
that's OK, too. It was my gift to her. What she does
with it is up to her. Isn't that what you've been
trying to tell me all along, Dad?"

I leaned over and kissed this marvelous young woman
goodnight, my tears dripping on her sweaty and slimy

"I would have sex with you right now if you wanted,
kiddo." I knew she had not cum and was still sexually

She grinned up at me, then hugged me tight. I thought
for a moment she was going to take me up on my offer.
I wasn't sure if I hoped she would or if I hoped she
wouldn't. She held me for the longest time, then
whispered, "Thanks, Dad," in my ear.

Maybe you had to be there, but I thought it was a Hell
of a touching moment. I went back to my room and went
to sleep.

OK. Now, if you came home and heard, `Oh, God, Oh,
God, Yes, Yes, Yes. Oh God that's so big and hard, Do
my ass, too, harder, please, please don't stop,' or
various repetitions and renditions thereof emanating
from your daughter's bedroom, screamed in a loud and
excited manner, what would you think? Right! You keep
a shotgun in the closet for just such an instance.

Unfortunately, it was Sally and Nicole who came home
from a foreshortened day of shopping, as Nicole was
being a real bitch. Unknown to them, Janey and Simone
had decided to play hooky from school to further
explore the territory discovered the night before.
What they walked in on was Simone pounding Janey with a
dildo, who was the one screaming. Simone was eagerly
returning the favor Janey had done for her the entire
hour before. The girls thought they were alone in the
house and were being as noisy and raunchy as they
wanted. It was all in fun, just girl stuff, sort of
like male bonding. Yeah, right!

Sally immediately knew what was going on through her
link with Janey. She thought it was strange that Janey
sounded like she was having a lot more fun than it felt
like she was experiencing through the link, but she
also knew that the other person in the room was not me.
We had said goodbye this morning in the shower, as I
had to run up to the Guild for some business meetings.
She deducted correctly that Janey's partner in passion
was Simone, and that was the reason for the verbal
encouragement. Janey and Sally had both commented to
me at the seeming inability of Nicole to feel anything
on their link, and that Simone's link felt funny to
them. The way they talked, it sounded as if they
really pitied them that loss.

Nicole, however, didn't know who was with Janey, only
that Janey seemed to be getting a good fucking, one of
a lifetime, from the sounds of it. Whether to herself
or if she meant Sally to hear wasn't clear, but she
muttered, "The little bitch will be as big a slut as
her mother soon." Of course, she muttered it in
French. Then again, maybe it was Sally's fault for not
informing Nicole she spoke fluent French and could
understand the colloquial vulgarisms she constantly
used when referring to her and Janey.

Needless to say, the comment didn't sit well with
Sally. I had learned early on that malicious words
would wound Sally worse than the whip. Those words
from Nicole cut her deeply. Unbidden, a vengeful anger
started to grow in her heart. Attack Sally and she
would fight back, attack her daughter and she would get

Uncharacteristic of Sally, she ignored her anger. I
had commanded her to be a mistress. She was trying to
do her best. She also didn't want to embarrass Nicole
by letting her know she understood French. There were
things to do, preparations for the next visit by our
friends. Sally still had to organize two more costumes
for Nicole and Simone, and, as she had discovered,
Nicole was domestically worthless. She couldn't cook,
clean, sew, iron, or straighten up. What exactly was
she to do with this worthless bitch?

Amud and Bala's next visit was to be a special
occasion. Not only would Nicole and Simone be
introduced to our friends and into the growing
relationship we had with them, it was also the occasion
for the first public dance performance by Janey. Bala
had been working them hard, and Janey had excelled
under her teaching. I truly appreciated the practice
drills that Sally showed me, especially when she was
impaled on my iron hard prick. But I think the very
fact that she practiced with me defeated the purposes
of the drills. She was still much improved from that
first dance she did for me.

Finally all was in readiness for the evening. The
women served Amud and I a sumptuous dinner, two
delectable maidens served the wine, and the cigars were
slowly smoldering down. It had been a delightful
evening. My belly was full, my cock was hard, all was
right with the world. I was beginning to look forward
to a wild night with my lover, when the ching-ching of
the music sounded. I leaned back to relax. I had
forgotten about the premier.

The occasion of a first dance was special as the women
were allowed to enter the main tent and sit with the
men. Bala sat with Amud. Simone, Sally and Nicole
came to sit with me, although Sally positioned Nicole
so she was not near Amud or myself. I wondered at the
intentional slight on her part, but just then Janey
danced through the veiled door. Or should I say she
floated through the door.

Her outfit, if it could be called that, was daring. It
was beyond daring. It was blatant. It displayed all
her womanly charms and then some. It highlighted her
coloring. You could see the blush across the tops of
her breasts. Hell, you could see everything! Even
that her normally tiny trimmed bush was now missing. I
don't know how that affected Amud, but my blood was
sure boiling.

Her dance was short, but energetic and erotic in the
extreme. Even the women seemed entranced with her
sexuality. She twirled and twisted, wiggled and
jiggled. I think it was probably a bit more acrobatic
than a traditional dance, but Bala had worked wonders
with what she had to work with. Looking over at my
friends, I wasn't sure she was entirely pleased with
Amud's obvious reaction to Janey's dancing. From the
way Bala was lying across his lap there was no way she
could miss his arousal. In fact, unless I missed my
guess, that hand I couldn't see was probably wrapped
around his throbbing swollen shaft. I chucked as I
thought of what his night would be like with that
wildcat of a wife.

At the conclusion of her dance, Janey ended up kneeling
in front of me, her head to the ground. She seemed to
be waiting for something. I looked over to Amud for a
hint. He seemed to be somewhere else, although his
eyes were still fixed on Janey's almost nude form.


He started, as if from a dream. I almost hated to
bring him back from where ever he had been. "Yes, my

"Is she waiting for something?"

He looked at Bala. Something passed between them, then
he nodded his head. "Ah, yes. Bala has told the fresh
one of the traditions of the first dance. In my
country it is traditional for the dancer to request a
favor of a sensual nature from her chosen benefactor.
It is always granted if the dance is deemed to be

He continued, "You seem to be her chosen benefactor,"
he sounded rather disappointed that Janey hadn't chosen
him, but a sharp nudge from Bala cured that, "as she
has ended her dance and bowed in front of you." He
sighed, earning him another playful elbow from Bala.

"For my part, if she had chosen me, she would have had
her most sexual of favors granted a million times over.
Gladly." He got a rather sharp elbow for that remark,
but the two were now laughing and showing more
affection for one another than ever before in our

I could see Janey blush from his compliment of her and
his implication that he would enjoy doing much more
with her. I let her stay bowed for a while, letting
her catch her breath. Also, I was somewhat leery of
granting favors, sensual or otherwise, before I knew
what they were. But some things you just don't learn
to resist, and a beautiful woman prostrate before me is
almost always going to get her wish.

"Janey, your first dance is deemed to be acceptable," I
intoned with all the pomposity I could muster. "What
is your sensual pleasure?"

I expected her to ask for that car she had been bugging
me for. The one with the leather seats. Or an
expensive trinket, maybe. But nope, not my Janey!

"I want to go to that place you took mom the night of
the concert."

I gasped. Sally paled. No one else in the room had a

"You told me you didn't want to go there."

"I told you I wasn't ready. I am now. I'm not afraid
of those feelings anymore and I am strong enough." I
could almost here `I think' or `I hope' on the end of

My, my. My little girl is all grown up. But then I
knew that. I had just seen her dance. Someone was
going to be a very lucky man someday, to have that
body, that spirit to come home to each night.

"What place is she speaking of?" asked Amud, thinking
that Janey was referring to a physical location.

Sally told them of the white crop I had used on her,
how I had tied her and pushed her beyond any experience
she had had before or since. It was beyond the
singing. It was just beyond.

Bala turned to look at me. In awe she said, "You can
see the dancing lights in a woman as she sings?"

I nodded.

Simone, still puzzled, asked Sally, "Janey wants Larry
to whip her with a stick?"

Sally nodded.

Nicole had passed the point of credulity. Again she
muttered, this time about Janey now being as big a
tramp as her mother. Again in French. Bala and Amud
both spoke French. So did I.

It was the last straw for Sally. Remind me to never
push her too far. She was a blinding fury as she
pummeled Nicole, screeching and shrieking as she did
so. When Nicole was sufficiently limp, she dragged her
by her hair out of the room. We heard the body
thumping down the stairs to the first floor, then all
was quiet.

Embarrassed at the outburst, I apologized to Amud. He
gave me a quizzical look, like I was an idiot.

"Lawrence, my friend. You are a good master, but
sometimes you do stupid things."

I must have looked puzzled.

"Sally, your beloved, is not like Bala. She cannot be
mistress, too. It's is not in her aura. Different
lights. Your new beloved, Nicole, is not mistress.
Janey, she is young, she can learn both ways yet.
Simone, she is a special one." He grinned. "You are
one lucky son of the bitch, my friend, but I do not
envy you."

He stopped and fixed me with a stare. "Learn to see
your women, as a master. If you see the dancing
lights, you are far beyond me in skill. But maybe I
can help you with wisdom, no?"

With that, he indicated I should tend to Janey who was
crying with gathering hysterics on the floor. Her
debut was ruined, her request forgotten.

As I tended to Janey, finally getting her settled down,
Amud and Bala quietly slipped out and drove home. Bala
had seemed incredibly agitated, perhaps aroused, at
Janey's dance and the ensuing conversation. Amud, to
my surprise, had not seemed jealous of her attraction
to Janey or to me. When I thought back, Bala may not
have been envious of Amud's reaction to Janey, but
could have actually been exciting him with her hand,
enhancing his pleasure of the dance. Such non-
possessiveness was strange to me, but seeing it in
practice made me think it might work.

As Janey quieted down I carried her down to her room.
Suddenly she cried out.

"Oh, God, Dad, she's killing her!"

"Who? Where?" I demanded immediately.

"M-M-Mom is beating Nicole. Downstairs. Daddy? Why
is she so angry with Nicole? It hurts, oh God, it
hurts...." Janey rolled over in tears, holding her

I dashed down to the dungeon, fully expecting the
worst. I just hoped I wasn't too late to stop her from
doing any permanent damage.

What I saw pained me. Sheer anger was being vented in
a blind rage. My meek, mild Sally had strung Nicole up
by her wrists and was using the heavy handle of a whip
to bludgeon her face and torso. There was no thought
to her wildly swinging blows, only rage.

My heart cried out to her to stop. I knew I couldn't
reach her before she struck a couple of more times, so
I did the only thing I could think of. I focused as I
ran to her, thinking of an iceberg and then wrapped it
around her. As corny as that sounds, it worked. She
froze, so to speak, in mid-blow.

My first priority was to secure Sally where she
couldn't harm Nicole any more. I led her gently over
to a set of kneeling stocks and placed her head and
hands in the appropriate half rounds, then closed and
locked the top bar. We had never used this device
before, but Sally had commented that if I ever wanted
to punish her, that was the way. It seemed

She hadn't resisted me. As soon as I had touched her
she had gone limp. I knew she knew she had made a
grievous error. So had I. Sally had known her
limitations and had tried to tell me. I hadn't
listened. I was too proud. This was my fault, too.

With Sally secured and unable to harm herself or
Nicole, I cut down Nicole. Her wrists were bleeding
from the plastic ties Sally had used. I wondered where
those had come from. I hated those evil devices. Not
only could they mark you permanently, they didn't have
a lock to pick. I quickly examined the unconscious
woman. As near as I could tell from a quick field
exam, there were no broken bones. I was more worried
about her spirit than her bones, though.

I carried her upstairs and took her into the Free Room.
We hadn't had to use this room much before, but
everything was there. A bed, a bathroom. I took the
pistols I had placed there and put them away. I hadn't
gone over everything with Nicole just yet, and didn't
want her running around the house with a loaded gun.
After Nicole was settled and as comfortable as I could
get her, I went to find Simone to tell her that her mom was going to be OK and to try to explain to her what
had happened.

I couldn't find Simone. I looked everywhere. I looked
in on Janey to see if they were together. I checked
the dungeon just to be sure. I searched the house. I
checked my security system and ran a check for infrared
heat sources. I could only count four in the house or
on the grounds. I ran the security tape loop.

Three heat sources had left the house at nearly the
same time. Two had gone together, one had slipped out
just after the others were in their car.

I watched the tape from the outside security camera as
the third heat source disappeared down the driveway and
turned toward the nearest Interstate. To have been
that visible, Simone must have been outside the car,
riding on the rear bumper of Amud and Bala's limousine.

Simone had run away.

Chapter 35

I could have panicked. An underage girl I barely knew
and had accepted responsibility for had just left for
parts unknown, and I had only one clue where she might
have gone. Her mother lay unconscious in my guestroom,
beaten senseless by my lover. The unconscious mother would have to be tended by the daughter of the woman
who had just brutalized her. What, me worry?

After checking on Nicole, I went up to Janey's room.
She was already getting dressed, her eyes still puffy
and swollen from crying, but her face set and


"Be ready in a minute. Where do you think she went?"

"How'd you know she was gone? Oh, I see. Gee, you're
getting pretty good with your link thing, aren't you."

"Yes, and you should be better than me, Dad. I mean, I
can sense stronger than Mom, but she's real sneaky
sometimes about what she knows, so I can't always tell.
Simone and I can hook up pretty good, but she's way
different than I am. Like, the last time we did each
other, she was doing things to me I didn't think anyone
but you could do. I made her stop, you know, it was
too much. She's like you that way in that she can tell
what turns me on, but still, she's no match for what
you can do."

"What do you mean?"

She turned to me, exasperated but patient, like with a
slow-witted child. "Dad. Stop thinking. Feel. Reach
out. God! You can do it when you don't think about,
you know? I felt what you did to mom downstairs."

I must have looked surprised.

Janey explained, "Don't you know what you did? You
were shouting how much you loved her, how this was all
your fault, how you would try to make things right, but
to please STOP! I mean, you weren't making words with
your mouth or anything, you were like shouting in your
mind, or something. It was really clear. You were
really scared, not just for Nicole, but for Mom, too.
That sort of made me feel good. Then I got really,
really cold. Stop thinking of pictures, will you? I
mean, it works sometimes, but Geez, an iceberg? Be a
little easier on us weaklings, why don't you."

"You got all that, all the way up here?"

"Clear as a bell, Dad. Just stop thinking. Feel. Can
you feel mom now? Can you tell what she's feeling?"

I stopped and felt. I reached out for Sally. I found
her, waiting for me. A lump formed in my throat.
Shit. And I thought I felt bad. I sent her my love.

"Don't worry. She'll get over it. She knows you love
her. That's all she needs to know right now. She also
knows she really screwed up, too. And that you will
fix it. She trusts you. She loves you. I trust you,

She finished tying her shoes. "Where do we start
looking for Simone?"

I was taken aback for a minute. "Uh, would you mind
holding down the fort here? I kind of need you to look
after Nicole. She's unconscious right now, but
nothing's broken, I hope. But when she comes to, I
need you to make sure she's OK. If she's not, call the
hospital and get her there.

"Your mother stays in the basement until I come back
home with Simone, or until I give up. That could be a
long time. Tough. Let her out of the stocks one hour
a day for a shower and exercise. You can change her
bondage if you think the stocks are too much for her.
I don't know how long I will be gone, so use your
judgement. I do not want to injure her.

"You may give her updates on Nicole's progress and
anything I tell you to relay to her on the telephone.
Otherwise silence. No chit chat, no making her feel
better. You'll need to feed her at least one meal
while she's in restraints. She cleans up her own
messes on her free hour. It will stink down there, so
be prepared for it."

Janey nodded, agreeing with everything I said, even the
tough parts.

"You're in charge, kiddo. I trust you, too. Remind
Nicole about the Free Room rules and that she can stay
there as long as she wants. That's where I put her.
Oh, the guns are put away, so you won't need to worry
about her getting a hold of one. Other than that, be
sure to sleep when you can, even if it's during the
day. You're going to need it. I'll call when I can."

She rushed into my arms. "Thanks, Dad, for taking
charge. I'm glad you're letting me do something."

I held her away from me. "You're not disappointed
you're not going with me to look for Simone?"

"That's your job. Besides, if you had to worry about
me, I'd just mess up your sensing thing. You have
enough trouble with it, as it is." Always the critic.
At least she was smiling when she said that.

"Good. I'm off then." With that, I turned and left
the house, knowing Janey would take charge. Just like
Sally would, if she could.

I called Amud on his cell phone from my car as I headed
for the Interstate.

"Amud, I'm sorry to disturb you, but Simone left the
house with you this afternoon."

"My friend, as lovely as the child is, I did not kidnap
her, I swear."

"Amud, again I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply you had
anything to do with it. I didn't make myself clear.
She left the house riding on your car. On the back
bumper. She has run away."

"Oh, dear!"

"Yes. I need to know the first stop you made after you
left the house that she could have gotten off.
Probably in a city or large town."

He thought a minute. "Oh, yes. We stopped in at a
leather warehouse over near the new stadium. From
there we are now heading home."

"Thank yo...."

"Lawrence? Lawrence? Hello? Here is Bala. The girl,
the new one, she is missing, no?" From the blustering
in the background, I could tell Amud was not happy that
his little wife had snatched the cell phone from him.
I smiled, in spite of the circumstances. He would
enjoy reminding her of his mastery over her. I knew
she would enjoy it also.

"Yes, Bala. I have to find her."

"Use the lights, Lawrence. Don't think, just use
lights. You great master, use it. Find the precious
one." She then got all soft, unlike the Bala I knew.
"I like her. Please. She is very special."

"I know. I like her, too, Bala. Goodbye, and thank
you." I rung off, slightly puzzled by their comments.

You know, it was beginning to irritate me. With all
advice I had been getting lately to quit thinking, I
was beginning to think..., well there I went again,
thinking. Anyway, perhaps people were trying to tell
me I did too much of it, or maybe that I didn't do it
well. I wasn't sure. I decided not to think about it.

I had a haystack, a place to start. All I needed to do
now was find the needle. Piece of cake. Yeah, right.

The warehouse Amud mentioned was in an industrial area,
busy on the weekdays, but almost deserted at night and
weekends. I could hear the ruckus from the tail end of
a Heavy Metal band concert in the stadium a couple of
blocks over. This being a Friday evening, I figured
Simone got here just when the streets were empty, the
workers gone home, the concert in full swing. A pretty
young girl, alone, would stick out like a sore thumb on
these naked streets.

I sat in my car, at a loss for what to do next. I had
driven to the spot Amud had stopped. I parked in a No-
Parking zone across from the local police precinct.
Even it was deserted at this time of the week, manned
by just a skeleton crew of rookies. It had been too
much to hope that Simone would be standing there
waiting for me. I know it was na‹ve of me, but I had
hoped, just a little.

I closed my eyes in quiet frustration and lay my head
against the steering wheel of the car. I may have
cried for her, I don't know. I guess I really had
wanted her to be there, tears on her face, cold from
the long ride on the bumper, frightened of the strange
darkness, a big van, a friendly face, old kind of, kind
of cinnamon smell, candy, a warm car, warm blanket,
warm up, feels good, food, voices, laugh, a funny
laugh, money through the window, a door opening
suddenly, a bad man, fear, scared, ...

I woke up with a start. What the Hell was that? I
looked at my watch. No. I hadn't been asleep.
Simone! I knew I was sensing Simone, seeing what
Simone was sensing. Somewhere near, close, but going
away now. Then just blank, like she was drugged. I
had felt the needle jab into her leg. I could sense
her drift away, then it was still, not any feelings
from her at all.

I found myself out of my car. I could sense better
outside in the open. I couldn't get a bearing on a
direction with this sensing thing and it frustrated the
shit out of me. I just wandered the streets, hoping to
sense when it was stronger, when she was closer. She
was so close...

I wandered the streets looking for her, half running,
stumbling, walking. Looking for her senses. Just a
trace, anything. I found that the harder I tried, the
fainter she got. I lost all sense of time and of
myself. I immersed myself into her aura, and just kept
wandering, apparently aimlessly.

It happened so suddenly. I distinctly felt it when she
woke up, the pain, the slaps across our cheeks, a kick
in the ribs, one broke. I hurt, she hurt. Too far
away, now, she was going away again. Another needle,
another sleepless dream, floating. I followed that
dream, walking blindly through streets.

Then the men started coming. I could see them, what
they were doing to her, to us. We were ashamed,
please, no more, not again. The sense from Simone
started to fade, but wasn't moving away anymore. She
was going into hiding, into her shell. It was her only
defense, her last hope. I sent her a message, but I
didn't know if she got it. I was coming. Hold on.
Then it was just like static on an open radio signal.

I kept wandering, trying to find her. The streets were
empty through Saturday and Sunday. Monday I had to
dodge traffic as I stumbled along the sidewalks. I
don't remember if I slept or not. I do remember I
stopped looking at people as people. I started looking
at them as lights. I wasn't surprised to find most
people were pretty dim, if they had any light at all.

Tuesday came and went and I was getting desperate.
Just before I collapsed in a doorway, I heard it.

"Help me. Please."

Simone! She was close! I looked around and saw her
light. There were no windows in that abandoned
building, but I saw her lights. Dimming, but there. I
knew it was her.

I found my way into the building and damn near fell
down the dilapidated steps into the cellar. It stunk
of fresh urine and shit. I began a frantic search for
her in the dark cavernous spaces. The lights from her
had gone back out. There was only static again.

I found her. She was naked, bruised and barely
conscious. They had used a staple gun to fasten clumps
of her hair to a wooden post. She was hanging by her
hair in a position where she couldn't stand upright or
sit or kneel. The muscles of her thin legs had
supported her as long as they could in the awkward
position, but they had given out days ago. The floor
around her was in places several inches deep in feces
and pools of urine. It couldn't have been all hers.

The two men surprised me as I was vomiting. Given
their poor fighting skills, my retching wasn't much of
a disadvantage. I disabled the big one first. He was
obviously the bodyguard. The asshole was trying to
pull an Uzi out from under his jacket, if you can
imagine that. The clip or barrel or something got
caught on his belt, but by that time, it didn't matter.
His knee when one way, he went the other, shit
splashing everywhere as he landed hard. He dropped his
Uzi when he grabbed for his knee. I kicked him in the
head for insurance, then kicked the gun into a far

The smaller man, a pimp by his dress, was smarter. I
could tell because he had chosen a more appropriate
weapon. He had his knife out and was trying to appear
as if he was ready for me. I like fighting idiots with
knives. Mainly because most fighters don't know how to
use them and it makes the motherfuckers overconfident.
They always get a big one like Rambo or that crocodile
guy and the weight tends to throw them off balance.
Then they fucking hold them upside down, like I'm going
to be stupid enough to step inside his down-swinging
arm. This pimp with the yellow hat had really
overcompensated for his inadequacies with the monster
blade he was holding. I left him writhing on the
floor, the knife buried to the hilt in his thigh, right
where he had it aimed. The knife had driven clear
through his leg with the tip stuck firmly into the
wooden floor. I knew he wasn't going anywhere for a

I was trying to get Simone free when the third guy
jumped me. He would have had me clean, too, but he
slipped in the shit trying not to get too close. A
little schmutz, and I would have been dead. As it was,
he still got my arm good with the deadly little knife
he was using. I think he thought he had me, now that I
was wounded, but he was wrong. He made the fatal
mistake of letting me get too close to him. Once I'm
in close, well, he died surprised. As I pushed his
lifeless body off me, I gave a start of recognition.
It took me a moment, but I finally placed him. He had
been in some of the pictures Gary had taken of Sally
during her humiliation.

I managed to free Simone using the knife I pulled out
of my forearm. I simply cut her hair free from the
staples and picked her up. They had not tied her arms
and she latched on to my neck with what seemed to be
all her feeble strength. I thought I felt her sob
once, but wasn't sure. Sensing the urgency of flight,
I kept trying to find my way to the stairs but my head
wouldn't seem to work. Every time I tried to look for
the door out of the room, my nose kept turning back to
the same dark corner. I would take a step to turn, and
my head would swing like a compass needle pointing
north. Same damn corner, every time.

I finally realized Simone was yanking on my ear,
forcing me to look at that particular corner.
Understand, I was brain-dead, tired, stabbed and trying
to escape, my survival instincts in complete command.
My mission was over. I had Simone. It was Miller
time. I was like a horse headed for the barn, ASAP. I
did not want to look in that stinking corner.

She was insistent, and my ear was starting to hurt. I
went over to the fucking corner. Nothing. I started
to turn away. My ear just about got torn off.

"What the fucking hell do you want!" I yelled at her in
my mind.

"Please. Hidden. Shiny. Silver. Important," came
the faint reply over our link. It wasn't exactly words
but images. I didn't really understand.

I shuffled around in the debris piled in the corner
until my foot kicked into an aluminum case. It was
heavy, and now my fucking foot hurt, too. I picked it
up with my good hand. Simone grasped my neck tighter,
easing the work I had to do with my injured arm. Where
she got the strength I don't know.

My ear released from her grip, I found an exit. On the
way out and up the stairs, I stumbled. I tripped over
a lit kerosene lamp one of the men had left on the
stairway. It fell to the basement floor and broke
open. The old newspapers that cluttered the floor
caught fire easily. The old dry timbers of the
crumbling warehouse exploded into flames, engulfing the
three bodies in the cellar.

I heard screams as I walked away, carrying Simone. It
didn't bother me at all.

As I cleared the killing zone, as I thought of it, I
had to stop and think where I was. I realized I was
many miles from my car. I was in the middle of an area
I didn't recognize right away. I couldn't see the
stadium. I couldn't see any landmarks or familiar
buildings at all until I got to the next large
intersection. God! I was two towns over from where I
had parked.

It was night, there were no buses running in this part
of town. No taxis were going to stop for me, not with
the way I looked after four days of wandering around,
bleeding from a big gash in my arm and carrying an
unconscious naked stinky little girl. I headed for the
one safe house I knew in this town.

Mac didn't recognize me at first when he opened his
door. I just hoped he would take over now. I
collapsed in his doorway.

Chapter 36

I woke up in a hospital. I knew that before I opened
my eyes. I could smell the familiar antiseptic odors.
My arm felt stiff and sore. I could feel the bandaging
they had used on the stab wound. Oh well, another
battle scar.

I kept my eyes closed and tried to link to Simone. I
was startled to find her so close. She was in the bed
next the chair I was sitting in. Sensing she was safe,
I drifted off to sleep again.

When I woke up again, it was dark. Simone was still
asleep, resting easy. I had been having some very
weird dreams. When I noticed she was holding my
finger, much like Janey had done when I had sat by her
bed, I suspected Simone and I had been communicating
over a similar link between us. I seemed to know her
better now. She was, indeed, a special person.

The dream had seemed so real, interactive. I had been
on a beach, and thousands, millions of others were
there, too. The fine white sand seemed to stretch for
eternity in both directions. When I looked down, I
couldn't focus on the sand around me, but it seemed so
real I could feel it between my toes. Most of the
people along the beach were building sandcastles. Some
castles were bigger than others were, as those people
had others helping them. Some others were struggling
by themselves to build one that could stand against the
relentless waves.

Some people along the beach were raging at the sea,
kicking at the water, trying futilely to keep the waves
from their sandcastles. As I watched, the waves would
come and wash away their castles or the castles of the
people near them. They were trying to stop the waves.
The waves would strike at random. You could never tell
when the waves would come, who would have to start
over, who would be wiped out, or whose castle would be
touched. Some sandcastles were barely touched by the
waves, some the waves wiped out. Wherever the water
touched a sandcastle there was sadness.

Sometimes the people would stop building and just
wander out into the waves, to become a part of the
vastness. Most of us just kept building our castles.
Like I was doing.

I had a bucket in my hand full of sand. When I
examined the sand in the bucket carefully, though, I
saw the grains were made up of the faces of Simone and
Nicole. When I looked at my sandcastle, I and I saw
that the sand there, too, was made up of faces, faces I
knew. I saw my parents, my sister, Sally and Janey.
Mac was there, as were others, some alive, some long
dead. I put the new bucket onto my castle and Nicole's
and Simone's faces became part of the whole.

Looking up, I saw Simone was there on the beach beside
me. The remains of two small ruined sandcastles were
visible beside her as she bravely attempted to build
yet another around the face of her mother. I saw in
her sand the face of an elderly gentleman that I knew
was the man she called Papa. The other man in the
ruins was younger. It looked as if she had kicked that
pile over herself, her tiny footprints visible in the
white sand, long deep scars where she had tried to kick
the face of that evil man away form her. But that
sand, that face, was still a part of her castle, a part
of her.

Simone wasn't raging at the waves as were many others
in less tragic conditions. The waves had touched her
as it had them, yet she persevered. I could also see
she was being very careful now, selecting the material
for her castle with greater care. She stood holding an
empty bucket, another was off to one side. Janey's
face was in her castle now, the new sand still bright
and shiny. I could see my face in the bucket she had
set aside. She was scared to mix it in with her
mother's sand. Unsure.

Suddenly, in my dream, I was telling a story, teaching
a history class. When I would turn to look at the
students, they would all have the same face, the face
of Simone. All of them asked different questions,
throwing them at me faster than I could answer as if
time was running out. I tried to answer as many as I
could, but some of them I knew I wasn't allowed to
answer, secrets from my past I could not share. Some
of the questions were easy. Some were hard. Others I
didn't know the answers to. The bell rang and the
questions stopped.

We were back on the beach. Simone was turning to me
smiling. Both buckets were empty. My face was in her
castle. I waved my hands and a space opened in the
walls of my own castle. When I looked around I could
see that Sally had her castle right next to mine, each
adding support to the other. Janey's was there, too,
as was Nicole's. I invited Simone to place her own
castle within the protection of mine, of my family's.
I could tell she wanted to, but she was hesitant,
afraid. It was not a feeling she was used to.

We were in the delicate and difficult process of moving
her sandcastle closer to mine when I woke up.

I tried to sit up. A pair of strong hands was there
immediately to help me.

"I called your house. Janey answered. She said to
tell you someone named `Bala' came over to help out.
Said you would want to know everything is OK and that
Sally is still in the basement, whatever that means.
Nicole, whoever she is, is awake and responsive and
didn't need to go the hospital. Now that you know
everything is OK, Lar, you want to tell me just what
the fuck's going on? Who are all those people?"

I relaxed as I heard the rapid-fire reassurances from
my friend. All the little things I hadn't been able to
think of, he had. Damn, it was good to hear his voice.

I smiled. "Mac! You should really watch your language
around impressionable young kids, you know?" Mac had
grown up on the streets in a very rough neighborhood.
Ever since high school I had ribbed him about his rough
language, helping him smooth out some rough edges. In
return, he taught me to fight dirty and about the hard
facts of life in the real world. We both learned and
improved, better individuals for our friendship.

He punched my arm, the good one. "Damn you, Lar, I've
been stuck in here for three days waiting for you to
wake up and tell them I had nothing to do with this.
Whatever this is. What is this, anyway, and who the
Hell are you and what have you done with my friend
Larry Sampson?"

"Oh, God, Mac, where do I start..."

"He can't tell you."

The two of us turned our heads as one to look at the
clear, sweet voice coming from the bed. Simone was

She repeated, "He can't tell you. He has integrity."
She said that last word as if it were the most
important thing in the world that a man could have.
She may be right.

"Damn, Lar, who is the beautiful woman who uses big
words with such a lovely accent?"

"Excuse my manners. Mac, this is Simone. Simone,

He stuck out his hand, "Hi, Simone." His trademark
grin that had won him more than one fair maiden lit up
his face.

"Pleased to meet you, Monsieur Mac." She said his name
with her delightful accent, and giggled at his response
to her. I had seen Mac in many situations, but I had
never seen him this flustered. I swear, he even

"I can get her to explain any big words you don't
understand, OK, lughead?"

"Fuck you!"

"Monsieur Mac!" That reprimand came from her, followed
by another laugh. I had never observed that particular
behavior they called coquettish before, but it was
truly amazing to see this teenaged girl keep Mac tongue-
tied and off balance.

After several minutes of valiantly waging a losing
battle, he turned to me for rescue. "Help me out here,
please! So help me God, I want to take her home with
me. But if you dare tell CeCe I said that, I'll make
you pay for our lunches for the next 10 years."

"I'm tempted to tell you to go fuck yourself, Mac," I
laughed, grinning at him. "But I don't think I could
afford you for the next 10 years with your new
contract." Mac had gone on a tear at the plate the
last month of the season. It hadn't been enough to get
the team into the play-offs, but it sure brought up the
gate receipts, which is what counts. He had been
expected to just be a part-time replacement for an
injured player. He had far out-performed expectations.
I knew he would, given the chance.

When the opposing pitchers kept getting hit, they
started walking him. Trouble with that was that Mac
firmly believed in scoring. Baseball to him was
simple. You get on, you score. He brought an exciting
sandlot quality to an aging team, invigorating the
whole team in the process. If you walked him to first,
he would steal the next three bases, including home
plate. The fans loved it. So did management. They
had just signed him to a huge contract for the next 3

"Lawrence, is he OK?" Simone asked quietly.

I knew what she meant. Was he safe to have in her
sandcastle? Would he hurt her, leaving her to trample
more sand?

"Uh, `Monsieur Mac', as you have dubbed him, is my
closest and best friend. I would, and have, trusted
him with my life and yours. I hope someday you will
find a friend as good as he is to me. I can't tell you
if he will be good for you, but I would bet he would
be. That decision has to be up to you. Always."

"It is frightening, Lawrence. How can I be sure who to

"Trust your mother. Trust Sally. Trust Janey. Learn
from them, watch them, see how they measure people, who
they let into their lives."

"But Gary, and that other man..." she didn't finish.

"Don't hold your mother responsible for Gary, Simone.
Sally fell for him, too. We all need to learn from our
mistakes and the mistakes of others."

"I know." She looked up at Mac with her sparkling blue
eyes, her decision made. I knew he was a goner. He
was going to be a part of her sandcastle whether he
liked it or not. Something told me he wouldn't mind.
CeCe's opinion was another matter, but one bridge at a

A first for Mac, he had not interrupted this short
exchange. He was puzzled at some things we were
saying, others began to make sense.

"So, anybody want to tell me what you were doing on my
doorstep covered in blood and shit? Can you tell me
that much?"

I looked over at Simone, who nodded for me to tell him.

"Remember a couple of weeks ago, that serial killer
they caught?"

He nodded, shuddering at the reminder. It was still
fresh in most people's minds. Even with his tough
background, some things still touched you hard.

"He was Sally's boyfriend before she kicked him out."

"You mean the one where she just about shot apart her
house when she kicked him out, oh about four or five
years ago?"

"You knew about that and didn't tell me?"

"Well, yeah, CeCe told me but she said Sally would tell
you. I thought you knew. Honest!"

"Thanks, buddy. Thanks a lot. Anything else you want
to tell me about my fianc‚e before I start?"

He shook his head sheepishly. I knew he hadn't meant
to keep it from me. I continued the abridged version
and told him the story about Sally and Gary, then of us
seeing Gary, Nicole and Simone together at the
symphony. I told him what I had done to set Gary up,
just not the connections I used or how I had made them.
He assumed they were from my financial clients. I let

I also glossed over exactly why Nicole and Simone were
staying with us, and what led to Simone running away,
just that there were some adjustment issues around the
house to work out. Then I turned to Simone and asked
her to tell both of us what had happened from that
point, as I was curious, too.

Simone lowered her eyes and spoke to her hands, which
were folded on her lap. Her voice was clear and her
words concise, no fear apparent in them.

"I was so jealous of Janey. She is so beautiful and
her dance was perfect. I will never be like her. She
has so many friends. It is so hard for me to speak
with people my own age, especially the boys. I try,
but I always say the wrong things and make them feel
stupid. I don't mean to. For Janey it is so easy.
Everyone likes Janey.

"I was angry at her for being so perfect. I did
something awful. I told one of her friends, a boy she
really liked, something that made him not like her. It
was a lie. She found out. It hurt her, and she cried
at night for several nights. She did not hate me,
though, and that made me feel so small. In fact, she
tried harder, spending more time with me, helping me.
I had never done anything like that before, to try to
hurt someone. It made me feel so dirty inside. It
shamed me.

"I know she tried so hard to make me feel welcome, but
it was still her room, her home. I missed my things,
too. You took us in to your home to help us, but it
was not my home. Mama felt the same way, a little.
Please understand, we were grateful for the help you
gave to us, but it hurt our pride to need it.

"I was angry with Mama, too, for saying those ugly
things about Janey. It was not the first time. Mama
isn't like that, really. Please do not hate her,
Lawrence, she is very frightened and alone. She needs
to have a man such as you take care of her. But she
kept saying bad things, worse and worse. I think she
was afraid you would not want me around with Janey so
perfect, so she tried to make her less perfect by
saying those things about her. I warned her that Mist-
, er, Sally was becoming angry with her. She didn't

"Then after the dance Mama said that horrible thing
about Janey. My Mama is bigger and stronger than
Sally, but I have never seen such a rage in a person.
I wanted to stop her from hurting Mama, but I couldn't
move my feet. It happened so fast, too. I could feel
Sally's rage with that thing Janey showed me. The
intensity of her madness terrified me and kept me from
moving. I was ashamed to be so weak and useless when
my Mama needed me most.

"When that nice couple left, I hid on the back of their
car. I am sorry for running away, Lawrence. I did not
mean to go. I did not mean to cause you so much
trouble. I thought if I were not there, Mama would not
have to worry about you not wanting me around. If I
were not there, I would not have to live with Janey and
be compared to her perfection. At least, that's what I
told myself later, as we both know those are just
excuses, really. In all honesty, at the time, I did
not think at all, Lawrence. For once in my life that I
can remember, I did not think. I just did it.

"I had gone outside to get away from the things in my
head. I could still hear Mama screaming. I could
sense Sally's rage. I could feel the thump of Mama's
body as she was pulled down the stairs. I could feel
the hairs pulling out of her head. I had to get away,
as far from the pain and screaming and rage as
possible. I am sorry I was so weak.

"Their car was leaving and I ran and jumped on. I
didn't think. I had to do it before it got too far
away and once I took that first step, I was flying. I
have never felt so free before. I was doing something
without planning it out. Without knowing what would
happen. My heart was racing from the excitement and
the wind felt wonderful on my face. Such exhilaration
I have never felt before. I was free!

"The first part of the ride was like a magic carpet. I
was gliding along. Then the went too fast and I got
frightened. I couldn't see the exit signs because my
eyes would water in the wind. The temperature dropped
as it got dark and I got cold. I kept my eyes closed
most of the ride so I didn't know what road I was on.
I got off at the first stop of the car, but by then, I
was cold and lost. I didn't know where I was. I
started walking towards the lights of the big sports
arena and the music, looking for a telephone or a
store. A big van drove by me as I was walking along, I
think maybe twice. The second time it went by then
backed up. I was so cold, I was shaking.

"A nice man in the van asked me if I would like a ride.
I said no. He said just get in to get warm, it was
cold out tonight, and it looked like rain. He said he
would just drive me around to find a telephone, then
bring me back to where I was standing. I said no. He
asked me if I was hungry. I am sorry for all the
trouble I have caused you, Lawrence, but I was so cold
and hungry. I did not eat at the dinner, I had been
too excited with all the new things Bala was teaching
us. The nice man pulled a big sandwich out of a bag
and took a bite. I could smell it though the open
window. The juices dripped down his chin and he
reminded me of Papa. Just a little. It looked so
good. I am sorry, but I got in.

"He started driving around. I wrapped up in a blanket
in the back, as far from him as I could. It was so
nice and warm. He gave me a cup of hot chocolate, to
help me warm up first, he said. It tasted funny and I
think he had put something in it. But it was warm and
I drank it all. I felt a little funny later, but not
bad. I suddenly didn't care if he didn't take me to a
telephone or back to where he picked me up anymore.

"He made a phone call while we were driving around. I
didn't pay any attention to where we were going. I
felt like I was floating. I didn't care about anything
anymore. Soon we were far away from the sports arena.
He stopped the van by another car on this dark street
with all these broken buildings. An ugly man in a
yellow hat looked at me and made an ugly laugh. I
didn't like him. He handed the nice man some money.
Suddenly the door I was leaning against was yanked
open. A big man ripped the blanket away from me. I
felt the cold again and I screamed. He hit me. Then
he stuck a needle in my leg.

"I woke up where you found me. I felt you coming, I
think, but I had to hide. They..., they did bad things
to me. I got thirsty, and they peed in my mouth. When
I got hungry, they backed up to my face and defecated
on me. The other men, they always kept coming and
using me, in my mouth, in my bottom, everywhere. They
paid money to the man in the yellow hat to use me.

"When you found me, they were getting ready to move me
to another place. The man said someone had paid cash
for me and I was going far away, w


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