STACI DAVIS: INVESTIGATIVE SLAVE
by Zebulon
This is a work of fiction. No reference to real persons is
intended. It contains strong, non-traditional sexual imagery
and language. If you don't like this kind of thing, don't read it.
This may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted,
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is
being posted.
Feedback is welcome. Zebulon@fastmail.ca
(MF, FF, Bond)
* * * * * Start of Part 3 * * * * *
Staci Davis had almost skipped out on the lecture the
day Deborah Turner came to speak. She really wasn't
interested in news writing, per se. She was much more
interested in broadcasting performance. But one of her
professors was introducing the guest lecturer and was being
a hard-ass about having his students attend. She thought it
best to humor him.
Staci she showed up early and took a front and center
seat. She wanted to be sure her professor noticed her.
Afterward she was glad she came. Ms. Turner turned out
to be a wonderful speaker and Staci learned a lot about the
importance of a good news writer to the career of a
television anchor. All right then, she would learn more and
make sure to have a great news writer on her staff when she
got in front of the camera.
She had half a mind to go up on stage and thank Ms.
Turner when the lecture was over. Perhaps even do a little
networking. But she expected that the poor woman would
be swamped and decided it was better to just leave her in
peace. She was extremely surprised, therefore, after her
professor finished his closing remarks and dismissed
everyone, when Ms. Turner quickly jumped up from her
chair on stage and came forward to talk to her.
"Excuse me, Miss," she said, "are you a graduate student
here?"
"Yes, Ms. Turner, I am."
"Could, you please hang around for a few minutes, I
have a proposition which might interest you."
"OK." Now what the heck was this all about? Staci's
heart was racing as she sat back down and waited for the
crowd to leave.
It didn't take very long. Most of the students had bolted
immediately. There was going to be a reception for the
guest speaker later that evening. A reception with food.
Those who were most interested in talking with her were
planning to do so where they could linger around the buffet.
It wasn't long at all before Ms. Turner came over and asked
if Staci were free to talk.
"Actually," she said, "I'm finished for the day, Ms.
Turner."
"Deborah," she said. "Please call me Deborah."
"OK, Deborah." 'Wow,' Staci thought to herself. 'This
networking stuff is easy.'
Deborah asked if there were someplace very private
where they could talk.
They left the auditorium and headed for Staci's
apartment off campus. It was small and quite clean. It was
quaint, Deborah decided. There was a large teddy bear on a
child's rocking chair in the corner. There was a large quilt
hung on the wall. There were pictures and little glass
figurines everywhere. There were plants.
Deborah accepted the offer of a cup of coffee and
considered what she was going to say when the came
back. She had certainly stuck out from the crowd at the
lecture. Most of the in the audience wouldn't have
done at all. This one might do quite nicely. But, it would
depend on whether she were interested. She took another
look around the room. And on whether she had the right
temperament.
Staci came back with the coffee. For a long time,
nothing of significance was said. They chatted. Deborah
took a measure of who Staci Davis was. She sounded her
out about her personal life and career goals. She seemed
perfect in almost every way. She seemed to have a good
body. She claimed to be in good physical shape and
exercised regularly. She had some dance background. She
had done some acting in high school and taking a couple of
acting classes as an undergraduate. And the was so
naive, she didn't even seem to remember how this meeting
had gotten started. At least, she seemed to have no sense of
curiosity or impatience about finding out what this was all
about. That was hardly good credentials for a future
investigative reporter, but might be very useful for this
particular project. But there would be no way to tell for
sure until she asked. So Deborah decided to ask.
First, Deborah dropped some broad general hints about
the project and stressed the need for confidentiality. Staci
didn't flinch and was very interested. So Deborah swore her
to secrecy and for the next hour, repeated the which
she had gotten from Derrick. She didn't mention his name.
She outlined the plan. She explained what was needed. She
finished by saying, "If you're interested, we'll go on from
here. If you're not, all I expect from you is to keep your
word and not mention this to anyone. This project is going
to be dangerous enough with absolute secrecy. If any word
were to leak out it might be fatal. These aren't children
we're dealing with."
Staci was overwhelmed. 'This is so big,' she thought to
herself. 'I mean, it's huge. And Ms. Turner has asked me
first . . . or am I the first?' She looked up at her guest
watching her intensely. "Who else knows about this?"
"Just my source and me, and now you."
"You haven't told anyone else, at all?"
"Actually, I'm hoping you'll be interested and work out
so I don't have to ever tell anyone else. Right now the three
of us are absolutely it. It would be best if it stayed that way.
If you aren't the one, I'll have to try again and there will be
four of us who know."
Staci thought about it. In a couple hours it would be
time for the reception. If she didn't say yes now, she might
never get another chance. On the other hand, it did sound
dangerous. But what a career opportunity. If they pulled it
off, it would guarantee her a brilliant start in the field. Her
face would be in the news. She would be in demand to be
interviewed. She could write a book. As is typical with
many people, she thought too much about the
rewards and too little about the risks. She said yes.
She was a little surprised and disappointed when
Deborah didn't jump at her acceptance. Deborah wasn't
nearly as young. The risks were paramount on her mind.
She needed a partner and was glad that Staci was willing.
But she was very concerned about whether this grad
student could actually pull it off.
Deborah cleared her throat and said, "If we're going to
do this together, we're going to have to trust each other
completely."
Staci nodded.
Deborah worried that her responses were too quick and
too thoughtless. "All right," she said, "let me put it to you
this way. Before we go any further, we've both got to be
absolutely sure that you can handle this . . . uh . . . project."
Staci suddenly looked a little shocked and concerned.
'What was this?' she wondered. Didn't Ms. Turner
think she could do it?
"There are aspects of this undercover assignment,"
Deborah continued, "which are extremely distasteful and
which require some pretty impressive attitudes and acting
skills."
'Oh,' Staci thought, 'that's what's bothering her.'
"Both our lives may depend on your being able to go
through with this and fool everybody when the time comes.
And to be blunt, I want some proof that you can do the job
before we make any commitments here. My source doesn't
even want to meet the partner I select until I'm sure about
her. He'll trust my choice just as I've got to trust his
information."
'So what did Ms. Turner want from her, now?' Staci
wondered.
"You remember the description of the auction?"
Deborah asked.
"Certainly," Staci replied.
"And you can do it? You can stand naked in front of a
room full of strangers and act like a fashion displaying your skin?"
"Yes. I think so."
"There is no 'I think so,'" Deborah snapped. "If you're
not absolutely sure, we're both safer if I look for someone
who is."
"I am absolutely sure," Staci said with a little frost in her
voice.
"And you can stand there and let some stranger reach up
between your legs and you until you orgasm?"
That thought threw Staci for a bit of a loop, but she
found it also excited her a little. In either case, there was no
room for hesitancy at this point in the interview."
"I can handle it," was all she said.
Deborah studied her face and nodded to herself.
"OK, prove it."
"Prove it?"
"Remember, I said that this job would require a great
deal of mutual trust?"
"Uh-huh."
"Well I want you to show us both right now that you can
perform for at least one stranger. You have to trust me,
that this is because of professional necessity and not because
I'm a pervert. I've got to trust you, that you will keep this
demonstration a secret. If this got out, it could my
career. Do you understand what I am saying?"
Staci did. And the reality of what she was volunteering
for came home to her.
Deborah waited a few long moments as Staci seemed to
be processing what she had just said. She decided it was
time for a little shock tactic. She barked, "So strip, . . ."
Staci was startled and looked at her with an expression
of dismay.
". . . or let's just forget the whole thing and go our
separate ways."
Staci thought again about how this would launch her
career and came to a quick decision. Besides, she realized
that Deborah was right. She needed to prove to them both
that she could go through with it. She stood, walked to the
far end of the room, turned, and started to remove her
clothes.
Staci had come to the lecture dressed in a soft fuzzy
sweater, jeans, and tennis shoes. The sweater came off first.
She pulled it over her head and tossed it over the teddy
bear. She was feeling more than a little self conscious and
might have gone for the tennis shoes next, but decided to
take off the bra to make a point. The shoes and sox came
next and then she slipped out of her pants and panties.
Teddy was lost under the clothes and Staci was standing
looking proud and defiant, hands on her hips and legs
slightly spread.
Deborah eyed her appraisingly. She did, in fact, look as
good naked as she had clothed. Good. And she appeared
to be in exactly the kind of top physical condition that she
had claimed. Excellent. Her big beautiful eyes set off the
rest of her body very well. Her were generous
without sagging. Her stomach was tight, her waist thin.
The hips might have been just a trifle wide but seemed
to like that. "Turn around, please." Her shoulders were
nice, not too narrow, not too broad. Her golden yellow hair
hung down and covered the neck in a most becoming
manner. Her behind seemed perfect, at least as far as
Deborah could tell. It was well formed with nice round
globes. Her skin was perfect. No hint of blemishes
anywhere, except, of course, for the freckles. "OK, turn
back."
Staci turned and looked triumphant.
"You know, of course," Deborah continued, "that you'll
need to develop some kind of fashion routine."
Staci suddenly looked thoughtful. "Yes, I remember you
mentioning that. What exactly is involved?"
"I'm not sure," she replied. "Derrick wasn't very clear
about that."
'Derrick,' Staci thought to herself. So her source's name
was, Derrick.
"You can ask him yourself when you meet . . ."
'She said, when we meet, not if.' Staci knew she was in.
"In the mean time, why don't you improvise something?
So I can see what you look like when you move."
Staci remembered a slow abstract dance she had done a
couple of years before. It wasn't exactly fashion stuff, but she could pull some film from the school's media
library and study fashion models later. She pushed a few
pieces of furniture aside and moved to the center of the
open space. She closed her eyes for a half minute, trying to
remember the routine and how it started. There was no
music, but Staci could remember and hear it in her head.
She opened her eyes, smiled at her audience of one, and
began.
It was a little rough in places, and she could have used
with some stretching and warming up before getting started.
She was definitely going to have some sore muscles when
this was over. But it certainly showed her ability and
willingness to perform in the nude.
Deborah was impressed. The was limber and
graceful and very sexy. She'd have to have Derrick see this.
Perhaps this dance would be appropriate for the auction.
Wouldn't that be a big plus.
After twelve minutes the dance was over and Staci was
covered with a light sheen of sweat. She was also smiling
broadly and was obviously quite pleased with herself.
"That was excellent," said Deborah. "Now one last
thing."
"One last thing?"
"Come here please."
Oh yes. Staci suddenly remembered the 'one last thing'--
being masturbated by another woman. Surly, Ms. Turner
wasn't going to do that here and now. But of course she
was. This was the most difficult part of the deception--the
place where she was most likely to fail. So this would be
the most important thing to test ahead of time. Staci
walked over to Ms. Turner stood directly in front of her and
asked, "Which way would you like me to turn?"
* * * * *
Deborah had a few experiences behind her. She
much preferred men, but there had been some sex games
with a couple of friends back in her early teens. There
was one semi-serious encounter during her sophomore year
in college. Then she had slept with three different female
executives in her attempts to scale the corporate ladder.
And now, as strange as she found it, the sexual performance
of this attractive had actually touched her. She
wasn't exactly lusting after her body, but she was definitely
turned on. At any rate, the test had to be made. It was
better that she would probably enjoy it.
Staci had no encounters with other girls. She had
precious few encounters with boys. There had been only
five in her entire sexual past and she'd only actually
had intercourse with two of them. She did have lots of
experience with masturbation, however. And there was
something about the entire idea of standing there immobile
while someone else beat you off which seemed to feed into
her sexual fantasies. So she looked down at Ms. Turner and
amplified her question, "Do you want me to face you, face
away, or face sideways?"
'A fair question,' Deborah thought. When the time came,
she'd be masturbated from behind. But I need to see how
she responds. "Sideways," she decided. Staci turned, legs
well apart, arms at her sides. Deborah was left-handed. If
she masturbated the with her left hand she'd be doing it
from her front side. "The other side, please." Staci made a
180 degree turn. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine
that the big evil boss had just tossed out her dream lover.
But instead of taking her from behind he had ordered her to
stand exactly as she was. He strapped her wrists to her
upper thighs so she couldn't move them.
Deborah took a breath and then sat up and leaned
forward. She grabbed Staci's nearest leg and repositioned
her a bit.
The big boss had pulled her over. She could feel his
hands on her leg.
Deborah reached between Staci's legs from behind.
Using one hand she gently reached up and explored her slit.
It was already damp. Or was that just sweat? She poked a
tentative finger into the girl's vagina. No, it wasn't sweat--
she was definitely getting wet. Maybe she was a after all. Maybe she got off of this kind of thing. Maybe
she was just as good an actress as Deborah had any right to
hope. In any case, Deborah got her fingers well lubricated
and then moved them up to begin rubbing the little love
button at the top of the slit.
Her boss was taking her right there in the board room.
No, he was sitting behind his desk in front of her and his evil
lesbian secretary was beating her off for his amusement.
Her hands were strapped down, her legs were quivering.
The evil slut was pawing at her, probing her, violating her
tender flesh. The big boss was grinning maliciously and
beating himself off in his chair as he watched. Somehow he
was no longer behind his desk. She could see his huge
erection. It was horrible. Staci was more excited than she
had ever been before in her life.
Deborah could feel the passion in Staci's breathing. Her
juices were literally dripping out of her love tunnel.
Deborah found herself getting as turned on as the girl. She varied her hand movements, slipping back into the
vagina and then returning to the clitoris. She had planned to
bring her to climax as quickly as possible, but perhaps it
would be better to test her responsiveness a bit. It seemed
clear the could come on command--and fairly quickly,
too. Was that good?
'Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!' Staci felt herself
trembling on the edge of her climax. But the evil slut kept
drawing things out. And the big boss was grinning
sadistically as he enjoyed the show. Staci knew he was
going to take her again later that night. 'Oh, Please! Oh,
Please! Oh, Please!' she mouthed through clenched teeth.
Even though the words were softly spoken, Deborah
heard them. She was that close to the edge. It was a real
turn on. But there was work to be done. Deborah watched
the tow-headed beauty's face carefully as she eased her over
the edge. Her forehead was wrinkled, her brows arched.
Her mouth was now wide open, gasping for air. The
sounds of her passion where like an intoxicating elixir. The
muscles in her legs were rippling and Deborah could
actually feel the spasming in her through the clitoris
and outer lips.
As the contractions subsided and Staci's breathing
slowed, Deborah suddenly realized that her own were quite damp. She released the and sat back
in her chair. Staci stumbled over to another chair and sat
down heavily.
"Well?" Staci finally asked after a long period of silence.
"I'd offer to shake your hand, partner," said Deborah,
"but I think we'd both better wash first."
Staci grinned over at her. "We're going to make a great
team. What's next?"
"The next thing is to let my source know that I've found
the third member of the team."
"Derrick?"
Deborah was shocked, "Yes, Derrick. How did you
know his name?"
"You mentioned it once without realizing it."
Deborah thought to herself, 'Maybe she will make it as
investigative reporter after all.' Then aloud she said, "Once
I hear from Derrick we'll set up a meeting with the three of
us. I want him to see your dance routine as quickly as
possible so he can give you some feedback and you can
have more time to get ready." There followed another
reflective pause on both sides. "I'll let you know as soon as
I know something. But for now, I think we'd better get
cleaned up and ready for that reception."
* * * * * End of Part 3 * * * * *
STACI DAVIS: INVESTIGATIVE SLAVE
by Zebulon
This may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted,
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is
being posted.
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