les histoires de chrislebo

Tammy stopped swinging and jumped off. "Mike please don't say that. I hate it in here. I hate being this small. If you want me to, I'll be your girl toy. I'll be your sex toy. I'll do anything you want me to, but Mike, please can't you let me get big again. Mike I've got to get out of here. I'll be good. I'll be whatever you want me to be. We'll screw every night. I'll give you round the clock blow jobs. I'll cook. I'll clean. I'll go naked. I'll wear whatever clothes you buy me. I'll be your slave. I'll do anything, but don't make me stay like this, in here."

Mike just smiled at her. "Tammy you're already my sex toy. You're already my slave. I like things the way they are. Why would I want to change anything?"

Tammy was through. She'd had enough. "OK Mike, whatever you say."

After he got to enjoy Tammy on her new toys Mike opened a bottle of water and poured some into one of the little tubs. He said. "Look Tammy. Now you've got your own little bird bath. Why you can take a ***** or wash your face and hands. Isn't this nice?"

Tammy watched Mike, but kept her mouth shut. He was enjoying this too much. He didn't know or care just how ridiculously stupid and helpless she felt.

Last Mike opened the bag of cookies. He took one out and ate it himself. He spoke to Tammy. "Oh this is yummy. I'll bet you'd like some cookies too." He took a cookie and crumbled it up. Taking a small portion of the crumbled cookie he dropped the crumbs through the cage bars into the second tub. He looked down at his disbelieving wife. "There you go Tammy. You got some cookies of your very own. Why you can nibble to you hearts content." Almost as an afterthought Mike said. "Hey, Tammy want a cookie?"

Tammy winced at the comment. She answered. "I hope you're having a good time Mike."

Mike answered. "I sure am!" He closed the passenger door, walked to the driver's side, got in started the car, and headed back toward the interstate.

Mike and Tammy drove most of the rest of the day. Mike made one pit stop for himself, and around four o'clock he pulled into a Checker's Restaurant. He covered Tammy's cage and went inside where he ordered and ate a nice meal. Mike reasoned. Tammy had a bunch of cookie crumbs. She certainly wasn't going to starve.

Together they drove on until it was close to midnight. Mike was tired, found another motel and rented a room. Since the evening was balmy he just covered Tammy's cage and left her in the car. The next morning, after another hearty shower and shave they were both on the road again.

Tammy was starting to feel drained from the trip. His little games with the cookies, the water, the perch, swing, and leaving her in the birdcage in the car day and night was wearing her out. Worse, she had amassed quite a little pile of paper towel residue on the car floor beside her cage. Every time she looked over there, it reminded her of her helplessness. Tammy was beginning to lose hope of ever getting out of the little prison Mike had put her ion.

On what would be the last day of their road trip Mike found a good-looking place to stop. They were in the outer most suburban ring of one of the large west-coast cities, just the place for Mike's final check up. He pulled the car into a spacious mall parking lot. Turning off the car he hit the switch that opened the trunk. Gong back to the trunk he pulled out the lamp. Mike thought he'd better check in with Genie, before he attempted what he wanted to try next. Mike rubbed the lamp.

From out of nowhere the Genie appeared. He looked pissed. "Mike I hope this is important, because I was really busy."

Mike answered. "I'm sorry Mr. Genie, but I had one or two question I wanted to ask."

The Genie answered. "Shoot."

Mike said. "Well first, I'm about to start a new career. I want to change the relationship I have with my wife. How can I allow her to keep her memories, but keep her from exposing me if I start her out on something new.

The Genie gave a quick response. "Just tell her she can remember what you've both done, but she can't rat you out. Tell her she can't try and contact past friends or relatives. Tell her she just can't. Then tell her she can't rat you out to any new friends. See Mike, that's all you have to do."

Mike thought and answered. "Thanks Mr. Genie. I didn't think it would be quite that easy."

The Genie took something out of his pocket. He studied whatever it was briefly and spoke, "I see Mike you've come a long way, and I don't mean just geographically. You still have a long way to go, but remember, when the time is ripe, you'll be giving up the lamp and turning it over to somebody who will need it more. Don't worry. Like I told you before. When that time comes, you won't mind at all. Meanwhile, you've still got a lot to do. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Mike spoke. "Yes, what if I want to bring someone here from far away quickly?"

The Genie answered. "Mike, short of ******, you can do anything you want."

Mike answered. "Thanks Mr. Genie. I'm sorry I annoyed you. I'll try not to bother you again.

The Genie smiled, and with a wisp of smoke he'd disappeared back to where he'd come from.

Mike wondered. How'd he do that? He went back to the car. He leaned in and spoke to his wife. "Tammy I'm going to the mall. While I'm there I'll be buying you lots of presents. Some of the presents will be clothes. So you better be good while I'm gone."

Tammy looked across the car and spoke. "Mike, are you really going to let me have clothes? Oh I can't thank you enough. I'll be really good. I promise I really will." Tammy thought as he started to walk away. I'm going to get out of here. I'll be free. He'll see I'll do whatever he wants. I'll be good. I'll be his slave. I'll be his sex toy." I'll work, I'll toil, and I'll do everything he wants. Then, when I get my chance, Ha!"

While Mike walked along toward the mall he knew he wasn't deceiving himself. Tammy couldn't be trusted. He knew that, but the way he had things planned there wouldn't be anything she would be able to do. He had her. She just didn't completely understand what her new role in life was about to become."

Mike went into the mall. He scanned the mall map, then started for the stores he needed to visit. He needed to visit a good ********** clothing store, a good furniture store, and there were appliances to buy. He needed clothes for himself. There were books, notebooks, a computer, and it's ancillaries.

Mike spent the better part of the day in the mall. When he was finished he felt satisfied. Tomorrow he would find a good condominium for the two of them. Then he had to check out the private schools. He wanted only the best for Tammy, and that would mean a brand new start on life for her as well as for him.

That evening he rented another motel room, leaving Tammy in her little cage probably for the last time. The next day he scoured the newspapers until he found what he was looking for. Using most of the money he had left he made arrangements to buy a spacious condominium on the outskirts of the city. It would come furnished.

When Mike bought the condominium he'd made certain he scouted the terrain for the best private schools. He found what most of the experts had agreed was the best private girl's school in that neck of the woods. It was called the Forest Hollow School for Girls. Tuition was expensive, but he'd already made his first contact. Mike figured within a week he'd have his wife Tammy actively busy in her new daytime environment as a ***** in school. Everything seemed to be working just fine.

The morning of the big day came. Mike woke up from a sound ***** in the motel. It was going to be his last motel wake up for a while. He cleaned himself, and left for the car. When he got to the car he found Tammy sitting in her birdcage just where he'd left her. Mike smiled at the miserably unhappy Tammy, "Good morning girl. Today's the big day. We're off to our new home."

Tammy looked abjectly miserable. She had absolutely no idea what her new home would be. It might a continuation of her current purgatory sitting and living in a squalid little cage, clinging to a little perch, swinging on a skimpy little nylon swing, eating stale cookie crumbs, washing and wiping with pieces of paper towel, and ******** tepid water from a tiny plastic tub. Or it might be, as Mike had intimated on more than one occasion, a tiny little doll's house bolted up against a wall decorated with little pieces of plastic furniture. His idea of a happy ending and hers looked mighty different.

They drove for perhaps an hour and a half. Tammy could sense by the number of times Mike stopped and started they were in a more congested area. Finally she felt the strain of several tight turns, slow driving through what must be a parking lot, until he finally stopped the car.

Mike leaned over to where Tammy was balancing herself on her perch. He had insisted she sit on her perch whenever he drove. She hated it. He smiled. "We're home. He took the cage cover and she was in darkness.

For the next several minutes Tammy remained n the dark, but she heard Mike open the trunk, and she could hear him make several trips from the car to somewhere. Finally she heard the passenger's door open, felt him lift her cage, and then she felt the inevitable sway as he was carrying her. She heard a door open, more movement, then the door closed. He walked across a room. He lifted the cover off the cage.

Mike smiled down at her. "We're home."

From where she was sitting on the floor in her little prison she could tell they were in a spacious room. Beyond that she hadn't a clue.

Mike started to speak. "Tammy, I'm going to let you out of your birdcage, but before I let you out and restore you to your natural size we have to get some things straight. Now listen carefully, and don't interrupt or offer any suggestions. First, from this moment onward you are longer my wife. You are my niece and my ward. I have enrolled you in a girl's school that's about a mile from here. You're enrolled as a thirteen-year old girl about to enter the eighth grade in middle school. Uniforms for your schooling have already been purchased.

Tammy was aghast! She was listening. She heard, but she simply didn't comprehend.

Mike opened the door to her cage and she crawled out. Mike went on, "I'm going to give you several official instructions right now that will make all things possible. Listen carefully, not that it really matters. Mike spoke the words "Aba daba gember all your old life you'll remember. Aba daba egret, but it always will always be kept a secret. Aba daba goof us the past remains just between us. Aba daba hooter, and from this moment on we start our new future." Then he spoke the words she really wanted to hear, "Aba daba prize, restore Tammy to five inches short of her full size.

Immediately Tammy started to return to her almost normal size, if not to her full grown past.

Once Tammy reached the indicated size she spoke. "Mike I know you're completely off your rocker now. I'm a fully grown woman. I have an adult life. I have an adult mind. I'm your wife. This school girl stuff you're talking about is crazy. I'm glad you're giving me back my body, but Mike, why have you cut me off at five feet tall? You know full well that I'm five-five inches tall. "

Mike smiled. "Tammy mentally you are a fully grown woman, well at least right now. He grinned at that. "For the most part that's the way you'll remain. However, if I let you go back to your full height you'd tower over the other people you'll be around. I'm sorry I have to do it this way. I love you, every inch of you, but from now on you're just going to have to settle for five feet. At home here in the privacy of our house you'll be my wife. Here, mentally and carnally you'll be everything a full-grown woman is supposed to be, but outside, or when we have company you'll be a thirteen-year old middle school girl. When we're out you'll know and remember everything that has happened between us, but no matter how hard you try you'll never be able to share that information. Any and every person we meet will naturally assume you are a young adolescent girl. I've thought it over Tammy. This way I'll be able to control your behavior without anyone suspecting anything. Also, if I decide I want a new personal life, with girlfriends, and dates and such, you'll be out of the way. Last, I've always wanted *****ren, and I'm going to have a lot of fun with you. From now on you're my little girl."

Tammy listened but still didn't believe what she was hearing. "Mike you're completely nuts, but I'm out of that stupid cage. Five feet is a lot better than six inches, and if playing along with this fantasy for a little while satisfies you and keeps me free, then I'll play along."

Mike grinned. "Tammy that's great. Now here's what I want you to do. Over down the hall is a bathroom fully stocked with soaps, shampoos, razors, depilatory creams, and a vast array of accouterments any woman would want; now get in there and enjoy. Get cleaned up. Once your done in the bathroom we're going out."

Tammy didn't need any further instruction. She'd been penned up in a little cell for half a week. She wanted to get out. She needed to clean up. Into the bathroom she went. Just like Mike had said, everything she needed was there. She turned on the water and adjusted it to make it as hot as she could stand. Climbing in she felt exuberant. She took the shampoo and washed her hair. She washed it again. She took the body bath soap and soaked every inch of her skin. She lathered every nook and cranny She let the water rinse her off. Then she took a bar of scented soap and scrubbed again, making sure all the bath soap scum was cleaned off. She stood in the powerful stream of hot water and luxuriated for several minutes. This, she thought, was real luxury, especially after her last few days. She stepped from the shower, turned off the water, found a massive towel and started to dry off. She looked around the sink and found a toothbrush. Boy she thought, if anyone ever needed a tooth brushing it was she. Tammy swore she'd never eat another cookie as long as she lived. She found her favorite toothpaste. Mike must have gotten it for her. She went to work on her choppers. Finally finished with her teeth she looked about and found the depilatory cream Mike had mentioned. Her pussy was ripe and brittle with uncut stubble.She knew Mike would want that completely cleaned off. Using the cream she cleared all the bristles off. One thing was for sure; Tammy didn't want to provoke Mike. She'd had enough of the six-inch treatment. If a clean-shaven pussy helped keep Mike happy, then a clean-shaven pussy was what she had.

After several minutes of quiet complimented by a good hair brushing Tammy stepped out of the bathroom. She looked at Mike, "You said we were going out. Do you have something for me to wear?"

Tammy didn't know it yet, but she was on the cusp of a completely new set of life experiences.

Chapter Six:

Mike spoke to Tammy, "Come over here honey so I can get you ready."

Tammy gave Mike her cheeriest smile, "Any thing you want sweetie."

Mike knew that was phony, but he paid no attention. The next minutes with his wife were going to be critical. "Tammy sit over here on this chair. I've been reading up the last few nights while I've been alone in those motel rooms. I've got some interesting ideas."

Tammy smiled back, "Sure thing." She sat on the seat he proffered, and waited patiently. The chair was really a big bar stool. She jumped on it, and propped her feet on the bottom rung so as to be as comfortable as possible.

Mike looked her over carefully. He had to admit; though she was a tad smaller, he still had a terrific looking wife. She stood about five feet four inches, naturally. She had smallish feet, perhaps a size five. Her hair was soft and long, sort of honey colored. Not quite blond, but certainly not brunette. She had pretty hazel eyes with great eyelashes, a cute slightly turned up nose, and a cute slightly dimpled chin. Her head sat on a long, but not over long, neck. Her neck gave her a statuesque look. Her ears were small, and she'd been careful not to fill them with piercing holes. And they rested against the side of her head. They weren't stick out ears! Each ear only had one piercing. She had great breasts. He thought they were 34B, smallish, perky, and with that tear drop shape a perfect breast is supposed to have. He remembered when they were first married, before she became wife bitch, how great for munching they were. Her nipples were great. They would stick out almost on demand. Just a good long look and Tammy started to feel aroused, and those nips would start to fill up and peak out at you. Her hands were small like her feet. She was graceful, womanly, sort of impish too. It was going to be fun getting her ready for her new life.

Mike started to go to work. First he took her hair, and swiftly, before she could react he cut the front of her hair into bangs. Then he took the longer fronds and started coiling them into braids. He intended to make two braids. He wanted long pigtails tonight. He could tell she was surprised by the bangs, but seemed to like the way he was combing her hair and braiding it. He knew she always liked being made over. He got her hair into two long braids that hung down to just below her shoulders. Then taking four little rubber bands he managed to clump the braids at the top and the bottom so things wouldn't fall out. Last he took two sections of the blue ribbon he'd bought and tied small bows into the top of each braid. The bowed ribbon made her braids flair up and out slightly. The effect highlighted the shape of her neck. He stepped back a little and checked his work. He liked the outcome. The hair in two braids with the blue bows gave her a youthful appearance. That was the idea. He thought the braids might be a little long, but he knew if he cut her hair off shorter he might change his mind later and then there wouldn't be enough hair to work with. He thought he'd leave her hair the length and shape it was. Then he thought. Why not pull the braids together at the ends and tie them off with more ribbon. He stepped behind her and pulled the braids back and down. Using a third piece of the blue ribbon he tied the ends of the braids together at about one inch from the absolute end. He liked the look. Though it was still a ******* hairdo, at least to his mind's eye, it seemed a little more formal. It was an ideal style for an open house visit by a young girl and her older uncle. Besides, with the braids pulled back and tied off the way they were it exposed more of her neck and made her seem more naked. The last thing he did was to take a brush and lightly fluff the bangs in the front giving them a thicker and more velvety look. When he finished he thought her hair looked terrific.

Next came the make up. He pulled out the packet with the cheek blush. Taking a small brush used for these purposes he lightly applied a thin coat of pink blush around her cheeks and above her eyes. He stepped back. He thought, that looked great. She's looking younger every time I touch her.

He got out the eye make up. He had some eyeliner that he applied very sparingly beneath her eyes. It was a pale blue, and helped accentuate the hazel in her eyes. He took a small dab of eyelash make up and applied it. It was minimal, and intended only to acknowledge that she had eyelashes.

Last were her lips. He had some shiny pink colored lip gloss for that. He told her to pucker up. She did, and he applied a little bit of the pink gloss. He told her to purse, or squeeze, her lips together. She did. He applied a little more gloss. She pursed her lips again. After two more application he thought he had put on enough.

At last he stepped back and checked her make up. It was almost like she wasn't wearing any, just the look he wanted. The make up he applied gave her a young look. She was only twenty-seven anyway. This make up he thought pulled her back into her teens.

Mike spoke, "Tammy why don't you step over to the dining room mirror and check out your new look."

Tammy stepped to the mirror. She looked herself over carefully. She thought. Mike has been doing some reading. She thought she looked pretty darn good, but she did realize that if he was trying to capture a ********* look, he'd done a far better job then he realized. She also thought she had a little more lip gloss than was actually necessary, but since it was his program she kept quiet about that. Tammy told him. "Mike you've made me look like a young girl."

He smiled. "That's the way I want it."

Tammy looked at him. "Well you've got me made up, but I don't think I can go out just yet. I'm going to need something to wear."

Mike smiled again. "Come back with me into your room."

Tammy followed Mike into what was the second largest bedroom. It was good sized, but it wasn't as big as the one she presumed he was going to use.

Mike said "On the bed I've got some boxes. Each box has something I want you to wear tonight. I'm going to wait in the living room while you get dressed." Mike turned and left.

Tammy looked over the array of boxes. There were boxes of all shapes and sizes. She started opening them. As soon as she started she could tell they were arranged after a fashion where she would be opening and trying on the item that would most likely be going on first, then second, and so on.

The first box she opened had a bra and a pair of underpants. She was nonplussed by the bra. It was too small, and there was no support for her breasts. It was a white piece of lingerie, with elastic straps. There were no real cups, just an area where the material was slightly looser. She put the bra on. It was tight, and it held her breasts close to her chest. There wasn't any real support to think of, and as she moved her boobs bounced and swayed with her movements.

The next box held one pair of underpants. The first thing she noticed was that they were cotton. The second thing she noticed was they had something written on them. It read 'Little Angel' across her ass. She slipped the underpants on. They were actually quite comfortable, but when she looked in the mirror, the under pants along with the bra gave a distinctly ********* appearance. That was something she didn't particularly like. Already she was starting to worry.

Tammy wondered if Mike was really serious about the schoolgirl look.

The third box removed all doubt. Inside the third box was her blouse. It was white. It was short sleeved, and the sleeves were capped. They were quite puffy, flouncy, and translucent. There was a clearly visible gathering of lace around the cuffs of the sleeves. The blouse had a peter pan collar, that extended about three inches outward from the neckline all the way around. The edges of the collar were trimmed in lace like the cuffs. She put the blouse on. It was an almost perfect fit. Actually, once she adjusted it slightly, she decided it was a perfect fit. Made of cotton, the fabric was unyielding. The buttons were crisp, white, and on the small side. There were twelve of them. She had some trouble buttoning the blouse up, since the buttons were small, and the material was a little bit more rigid than she liked. Once it was buttoned she had to accept that it looked really good, but she still didn't like it. The blouse was designed for a girl, not a woman. She looked at herself. She was getting younger by the item. One clear problem with the blouse was the pink pet collar held on by the padlock. It was still on her neck, and it really looked out of place. She hoped Mike would take the damn collar off.

The next box she opened had her dress, if dress was what you could call it. Really it was a jumper, a ******* jumper. She pulled it on. She hated it. The hemline came down to just about mid-thigh. It was something of a min-jumper, not dress. There was no real shape to the thing. It had a broad strip that went across her chest that compressed her breasts more tightly against her torso. The shoulder straps were about three inches wide, and covered nearly all the top of the blouse except for the peter-pan collar, which now actually sat atop the jumper. Her ******** capped sleeves with lace cuffs abutted right up to the edge of the jumper at the top. It was a light blue outfit. When she looked in the mirror she was devastated. He clearly meant what he said when he talked about turning her into a schoolgirl. This was a schoolgirl's outfit, and with it on she absolutely looked the part. Looking at it in the mirror she felt self conscious and just a little ********. She wondered if he were serious about her wearing this outside. She wondered what people would think when they saw her, a woman dressed like a *****.

There were only three boxes left, and one box clearly had shoes.

She skipped the shoe-box and went for the one right above it. She opened it, and almost threw up. This box held her socks, or rather her knee-highs. Inside this travesty that was a box was a pair of knee high stockings. They were white, thin, and they looked like they would be too tight. She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled them on. She was right they were tight, but were long enough, and she was able to pull them all the way to the base of her knees.

Without getting off the bed she reached for the shoe-box. She was afraid of what she was going to find. She dreaded this box's content more than anything she'd opened so far. She lifted the lid off the box. Tammy gave a sigh of horror. She knew it. He'd bought her a pair of black, high gloss, patent leather Mary Janes. She was crushed. She was humiliated. She wanted to cry. This was the ultimate in degradation. It was almost as bad as the birdcage. In a way it was the birdcage. She held the shoes up and looked at them. They were just like the ones she'd been ****** to wear when she really was in middle school. Tammy sat perfectly still. She felt her stomach tying itself up in knots. She was having trouble breathing. She felt her eyes welling up with tears. She had to fight them back. She remembered when she had been a little girl, her parents had insisted that she wear exactly this same style of shoe when she went to school.

Tammy looked down from her perch on the bed. She might as well call it a perch. It was a perch like the birdcage perch, only of a different sort. Mike was really putting it to her. She knew she had no choice. She took each shoe and strapped it around her ankles. They were tight and uncomfortable, just like she remembered they would be. She turned her feet from side to side. She arched her ankles to look at the shoes from the top. They were the shoes she'd worn when she was twelve. She puckered up her face like she was going to cry but held it back. He'd succeeded. Mike had gotten to her. This was her ultimate ***********. He was turning her into something she'd believed she left behind years ago. She'd hated middle school. She'd hated being a young girl nobody paid any attention to, and yet Mike was making her become that same little girl again. She wondered if he knew how incredibly cruel this was.

There was only one box left. What more could he do. She opened the box. He'd done it. He'd found the one thing more that would exact a full measure of defenselessness and ***********. There in the last box was a small patent leather pocket book, fully equipped with a shoulder strap. This was the last straw. She broke down. She almost cried, but at the very last instant she remembered she was wearing his make up. She dare not smear or mar it. One wrong step, and she'd be back n the birdcage.

Tammy looked in the mirror one last time. Her hair was in girlish braids and blue ribbons. Face made up with pink blush, pink lip gloss, bangs, and pale blue eye shadow. It was a girl's face. A jumper appropriate for a ten or twelve year old, with clearly visible peter pan collar and puffy capped sleeves all trimmed in ******** lace, covered by a girlish jumper that crushed her breasts into insignificance. Brilliant white knee-highs, shiny patent leather buckle up shoes, and a little girl's shoulder strap patent leather pocket book. She felt awkward and insignificant just looking at herself.

There was nothing left to do but face Mike. Out of the bedroom she stumbled. As she entered the living she felt incredibly self-aware. She self-consciously held the hem of her jumper as she walked toward Mike. The shoes were tight, and the leather soles made walking difficult, and that only made her gait and her persona appear even more awkward and insecure. She thought how bad could this be? She was reduced to nothing. She was a little insignificant *****, beneath the radar, below the range and perception of the adult world, a world she used to inhabit.

Mike looked at her and fell in love. He'd succeeded beyond his wildest imagination. He said, "Tammy walk over here so I can take that pink dog collar off. It looks terribly out of place."

Tammy shuffled over. She knew she was shuffling and she knew it was juvenile, but she couldn't help it. Her self-esteem was at such a low point it was about the best she could do. She felt ridiculous. She felt the way she looked, like a *****, a girl not quite ready for adolescence.

Mike took the dog's collar off. He said, "There may not be much of a need for that anymore. Wait here, while I put it in your room" He walked back and stowed it away in the top of her bureau. When he came back he said, "Tammy I put your dog collar, the padlock, and one key in the top drawer of your bureau. We may never need it again, but leave it there just in case."

Tammy just smiled and said, "OK Mike" Mentally she was telling herself, this man has become a monster. He knows he's going to put that collar back on me the first chance he gets. He'll just wait for me to disagree or make him mad, and he'll dig it out again.

Mike went on, "I've been in contact with the school you'll be attending. They're having something of an open house tonight. I've notified them that we were coming. Most of the faculty will be there. Parents from all grades from kindergarten through the twelfth grade will be there. I'm told they'll have student guides and student chaperones on hand to show us around the facility, and to baby-sit if the occasion arises. Now Tammy, it is an open house. I want you to eat something while we're there. Later I'll be going out to eat. I've made reservations for myself and the head of the middle school. After the open house you'll be coming back here. One of the upper school girls has agreed to baby-sit you while I'm at dinner. Since you'll be perceived as a *****, I'll expect the best behavior out of you, and I expect you to go to bed early. Don't give your baby-sitter any trouble."

There was nothing Tammy could say. She looked at her husband. "I'll be well behaved." That was all she could get out. Her emotions wouldn't allow anything else.

By the way, "I think you better start referring to me as Uncle Mike from now on."

Tammy grimaced but answered, "OK Uncle Mike."

One last thing before they stepped outside. Mike held up a wrap. "Put this on."

She looked at the wrap he held out for her. It was a girl's outdoor coat. It was light brown with three large buttons part way down the front. About mid way down, just below her breast line was a big broad belt with a big round cloth buckle that would hold the rest together. To Tammy it was awful.

Mike held it up for her to put her arms through. It was tight and uncomfortable, and it came to just the hem of the jumper.

Tammy thought her *********** was complete, but Mike wasn't finished. He said, " I have some other attire for you." He smiled and handed her a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses, "These glasses are so weak they really won't do anything for you visually, but they might add to the youngish look we're trying to achieve."

Tammy took the glasses and tried them. They fit, and she couldn't discern any change in her vision. She turned to look in the mirror. "Yes, she thought, she'd lost another year or two. Would he never stop degrading her?" she thought.

Mike still wasn't through. "Tammy, this is a retainer. Put it in your mouth. It's very discreet, and it won't hurt you teeth. I've seen lots of girls your age, that is young middle school age girls, who have to wear them. I think it will help further the aura of youthfulness we're trying to create."

Tammy took the retainer. First she turned it around in her hand. Then she slipped it in her mouth. It was a snug fit around her upper teeth. It didn't really hurt, but it felt awkward and out of place. Turning again to the mirror she smiled. She thought, "I won't be doing much smiling or talking with this in my mouth. He's getting me coming and going."

Mike spoke, "Another thing."

He handed her a small charm bracelet. Tammy recognized it as being almost exactly like something that she'd worn when she was ten years old. She immediately didn't like it, but she put it on, and shook it. The charms were small and delicate. They jingled slightly every time she moved her wrist.

Mike spoke yet again, "I have one last thing. Turn around please and face the other way."

Tammy turned around.

Mike lifted his arms over her head and placed a small necklace around her head. Fastening it in the back he said, "Well that's the last of it."

Tammy took one more look in the mirror. Hanging around her throat, and dangling down over her blouse was a small gold necklace with a single ornament, a heart. The heart was small and delicate. It sat dead center in the middle of the front of her peter-pan collar. It was pretty, but like everything else she had on, it was ******** and absolutely abhorrent.

Together they headed for the front door of their new home. Mike the older, mature guardian, Tammy the little girl out for the first time in a new city. Tammy wanted to bury her head in her hands and cry. He was destroying her.

Tammy found herself caught up in an unimaginable situation. Her husband had found some way to control her and most everything around her. He could manipulate her size, her voice, everything. He'd sold their house, everything in it, and moved them across the country. She'd spent the entire trip as a six-inch doll, naked, locked in a birdcage. He intended her to spend the rest of her life as a middle school ***** in some outrageous private school. She was trapped and she knew it. Now he was taking her to an open house where she was to meet *****ren her own age. There were no *****ren her age! She wasn't a *****! She was a fully-grown woman, a woman with a life, and a past. How could she ever get out of this mess? How indeed!

When they reached the car Mike opened the door and she got in. The drive to the school wasn't far. They were there in no time. Pulling into the parking lot Mike and Tammy could see the open house was going to be well attended. For a smallish private school Green Hollow must have had several hundred people in attendance. It was late in the evening, the sun was going down, but it was still light enough to clearly see everyone getting out of their cars and walking toward the administrative building. There were girls of all ages, but most seemed to be at least middle schoolers, with a good contingent of high school girls. There were substantial numbers of parents, but Mike and Tammy saw very few of the upper school girls had grown ups with them. Most of the *****ren were dressed in regular street clothes. Only a few were wearing uniforms.

Mike pulled the car into a space. Looking over at Tammy he said. "Sit still, let your Uncle Mike be a gentleman and open your door for you." He got out and went around the car. When he opened Tammy's door she didn't move.

Mike said. "Get out Tammy, we don't want to be late for orientation."

Tammy still didn't move.

Mike spoke again. "Tammy let's go. Don't make me pull you from the car."

Tammy finally answered. "I'm not doing this. You've had your fun, now take me home and put me back the way I was."

Mike wasn't surprised at Tammy's behavior. "Tammy, if I have to turn around and take you back. I'll stick you in your birdcage and you'll never leave that bedroom again. That is a promise."

Just then another adult appeared walking down the lot. It was the dean of the middle school, Ms. Harper. She spoke. "Hello, Is that Uncle Mike?" Looking inside the car she said. "I'll bet that's Tammy."

Mike answered. "Hello Ms. Harper. Yes it's us. Tammy seems to be a little reluctant to get out of the car."

Ms. Harper leaned in past Mike and looked directly at Tammy. "Hi, I'm Gizelle Harper, the dean of the middle school. Your Uncle Mike told me all about you. I'm so glad to see you. I guess you're a little scared. I know how you feel. It's always difficult when you start out someplace new. Your Uncle Mike says you spent all your education being home schooled. I'll bet that was exciting. We have quite a few home schooled *****ren here. I think you're going to fit right in.

Tammy looked at Ms. Harper. "I'm not going to school here." Oops! She thought. What she meant to say was that she wasn't going to school at all, but it was too late the other woman had already started to talk.

Ms. Harper smiled again and answered. "Well you don't have to if you don't want to. Everyone wants what's best for you, but won't you at least come inside and look around?"

Tammy gave Mike and evil look. She looked at Ms. Harper with equal animosity. "I'll go in tonight, but don't expect me to stay."

Ms. Harper responded. "Sure Tammy. Let's just look around tonight. If you don't like us, well, we'll understand." Ms. Harper extended her hand.

Glaring ferociously at her would be Uncle; Tammy leaned out and accepted Ms. Harper's assistance from the car.

Once out of the car and standing, Ms. Harper held both Tammy's hands and looked her over. "Well Tammy, you're an attractive young lady. Let's go inside and meet some of the people. Those glasses make you look like a scholar. I just bet you love reading. Have you any of the Nancy Drew's? We have the whole collection! Who knows you might get to like us yet."

Tammy flashed another look at her husband, and then spat back at Ms. Harper. "Don't count on it, and I'm afraid you'll find I'm really a lot older than I look."

Ms. Harper gave Tammy another of her best welcoming smiles. "Why of course. I can already see you're a very mature young lady."

Tammy wanted to scream. She wanted to curse, but she was getting the evil eye from Mike. They'd gotten her out of the car, and she decided to go through with this one evening. But she already heard the blatant condescension in Ms. Harper's voice. She didn't like it. She'd show them who they were dealing with. She'd show them tonight!

Before Tammy could begin to express what she was thinking Ms. Harper had taken her hand and started strolling down the parking lot toward the main building. "Come on Tammy. We'll go in together."

Tammy realized she'd been outsmarted. Ms. Harper was holding her hand like she was a little girl. Tammy wanted to yank away, but she knew Mike's retribution later would be swift and sure. Further, short of her own anger and embarrassment, she knew that this woman was only doing her job. Here in the dying light of the evening sun it was probably easy to miss the fact that she was actually a grown woman. Once they got inside she was sure Mike would be exposed.

As they strolled along toward the main building Ms. Harper kept up a steady stream of questions. She asked Tammy what sports she liked. Did she have any favorite authors? What types of music did she prefer? Tammy had a sarcastic answer for each question, but Ms. Harper was talking too fast The sarcasm didn't get through.

When they reached the vestibule Ms.Harper said. "Here let me take your coat. Tell you what, we'll put it away in my office then you'll know right where to go when you want it." Ms. Harper didn't hesitate. She went right to work unclasping Tammy's coat belt and unbuttoning the big buttons. Before Tammy had a chance to react Ms. Harper had her coat off.

There she stood in the brightly-lit vestibule dressed like a *****. Tammy was mortified, but Ms. Harper was still too fast. She looked at Tammy and said. "My what a wonderful dress. It's the same as our school colors. I love your shoes, and the stockings are just the right touch. Who did you hair Tammy? I love your braids." Ms. Harper had her in tow now. She lifted Tammy's right hand, and before Tammy could react Ms. Harper had her doing a pirouette. Ms. Harper went on, "Wow, Tammy, you are mature for your age!" Without skipping a beat Ms. Harper turned to one of the other women standing nearby. Mrs. Valley come over here I want you to meet someone. Mrs. Valley was one of the middle school English teachers. She pounced on Ms. Harper and Tammy. "Hi, is this one of our new girls? My name is Mrs. Valley. The woman turned to Ms. Harper. "She's really pretty isn't she?" Looking both at and past Tammy she pressed on. "She looks so sweet. She's going to fit right in here."

Tammy was incredulous! She was talking like she wasn't really there. This is ridiculous. Couldn't she see she wasn't just some *****? Couldn't they tell she was really a grown up!

At that moment Mike stepped forward. "Excuse me ladies. Tammy I told you not to wear so much lip gloss. Now go in the bathroom and clean that mess off your lips right away."

Tammy hadn't expected that. She sure didn't expect to be scolded like a she was some kind of bratty school girl in front of these other adults.

No one said anything. Both Mrs. Valley and Ms. Harper stood silently staring off in the distance.

It hit her! It hit Tammy like a rocket! Mike had put her in her place. The two women standing here were waiting for her to obey her uncle. Tammy looked at Mike. She looked at the two women. She inadvertently pressed her fingers to her lips. Eyes big as saucers she silently turned and went to the bathroom. She was heading for what read 'Ladies Room' when she was hailed by Ms. Harper, "Not there Tammy. That's the teacher's bathroom. The girl's bathroom is a little further down the hall."

Tammy didn't even look back. Her face was bright red. She passed the adult bathroom and kept going to toward the now visible 'Girl's Bathroom'. She wasn't eager to hang around. She wanted to disappear as fast as she could. Before she realized what she was doing, in her eagerness to become invisible, she ************* started to skip. Oh my! She realized her mistake and stopped. It was too late! She knew Mike, Mrs. Valley, and Ms. Harper had all seen her *****ish foot action.

She went into the 'Girls Bathroom, took a paper towel, and wiped off most of the lip-gloss. She thought. Mike knew she had too much gloss on. He'd put it on. He had this planned. He intended to use this as an excuse to embarrass her. Well he'd gotten her good, and right now there wasn't a damn thing she could do.

Tammy stepped back into the hallway just in time to hear a bell resonate three times. The halls were crowded, but everyone started moving toward one door. Mike looked own the hall and quietly called out. "Come on Tammy it's time for the main presentation."

As Tammy reached her supposed uncle he took her hand in his. She couldn't stop him. She tried to wriggle her hand free, but Mike's hand was bigger and he was stronger. He walked her into the main area just as though she was his *****.

Ms. Harper discreetly watched the hand action. She said to one of the other teachers "Isn't that just like a young girl. Embarrassed to hold her uncle's hand. Our new girl. She's adorable."

Tammy heard what she said. She could feel her cheeks redden. She was blushing. She had never been so humiliated.

Mike led Tammy down the aisle. The main chamber was actually the cafeteria, and the aisle separated rows composed of metal folding chairs. Normally the five foot five Tammy would have had no difficulty sitting in one of these chairs, but Mike had reduced her size. He led her down to a row very near the front. He stepped back and proffered her a seat. She stepped into the row, walked down about six seats, and sat down. Her feet touched the floor, but not by much. She swiveled her feet a little and could tell it wouldn't be hard to lean back and actually not have her feet touch the floor. She did just that. She lifted her legs, and held up her feet. She gave her horrid shoes another look. As she did this she realized she was acting just like any twelve-year old would, swinging her legs, lifting her feet to see her shoes. Tammy thought. This can't be happening. I must be regressing. She leaned forward again and sat up very straight.

From behind Ms. Harper watched Tammy walk down the aisle. She thought. That Tammy is a cute girl. She's just real shy and insecure. She's just a little girl at heart. She's seems awfully introverted. I think if we treat her with kid gloves. Treat her like the innocent little girl she is, she'll come right around. Ms. Harper smiled to herself. Yes, she's a pretty thing. It'll be nice watching her grow and mature into a young lady.

Tammy had a thought of her own. I've already made a fool of myself. I've let these grown ups manipulate me. She caught herself. What was she saying? She was a grown up too. It scared her. She was already fitting into the role Mike planned for her. This can't happen to me she said to herself. I won't let this happen. I'm a grown up. I'm an adult too. I'll show them I am. I'll show them I'm a grown up too!

Mike was sitting beside his wife, or better still his niece. He considered, the possibility of an extra curricular sexual affair here and there wasn't out of the question now Tammy was effectively out of the way. He could try out Ms. Harper, or some one else from among of the very attractive young teachers on this faculty. All the while he'd still have Tammy at home if he needed a quick relaxed alternative. He passed a glance at Tammy, he could tell she was uncomfortable. He thought, why don't I pay her back for that little scene she caused at the car. Mike silently made the magic remark, Aba daba haller, make Tammy's breasts one quarter size smaller. Aba daba witchy, make her crotch feel itchy. He didn't look over. He continued watching the school slide show.

Sitting beside Mike Tammy was feeling just about as low and insignificant as she'd ever felt in her life. She tried to concentrate on watching the slide show wondering if this was really where she was going to spend her daytime hours. Hell, she better pay attention to some of the slide program. Looking at the show she knew was going to hate the place. Everything was so ********, so adolescent. She felt out of sorts. The dress, the blouse were *******, but the under apparel was especially discomfiting. The bra didn't fit, and her crotch itched. She tried squeezing her legs tighter to get some abrasion. That didn't work. Crap! She was really starting to itch. It must be all new underwear. She discreetly tried reaching under her jumper to get the source of her misery. If she leaned over like she was pretending to look at the floor she could reach just far enough to scratch. It felt good.

Mike leaned over. "Tammy sit up."

Tammy sat back up. She tried to inch her jumper up a little while she sat back.

Mike caught it. "Tammy push your dress down. Act your age. You're squirming like a four-year old.

God thought Tammy. This is humiliating. She had to scratch She leaned backward and let her feet swing back and forth. She thought maybe that'll help. It didn't. Her bra didn't fit right any more. It felt too large. It had to be the elastic straps. This is awful

They sat through the slide show. Afterward all the ********, including Tammy, were divided into groups of four to six. An upper school student was assigned to lead Tammy's group through the school. Give the grand tour so to speak. While Tammy was participating in the tour Mike was off with the other parents to discuss some of the more mundane aspects of the school such as religious and health issues, sports, and the curriculum.

Tammy turned out to be the only middle school student in her group. The other three girls were all transfers and were at least in the eleventh grade. Their upper school guide was a senior. She spent very little time talking to Tammy. The other girls looked upon Tammy as something of a ******** nuisance. Someone they couldn't leave behind but they could ignore. While they walked around the older girls spent their time talking about boys. Tammy was thoroughly bored not just because they ignored her but because even if they hadn't ignored her, their conversations were well below her natural tendencies. These girls were talking about things Tammy had become aware of and grown used to years before any of them had any awareness at all.

For a while Tammy tried to just listen to their chattering, but eventually she had to interrupt. She spoke to the senior who was their guide. Her name was Carrie. "Carrie, I'm tired, and I'm supposed to go to the buffet table and get something to eat. Can't we cut the tour short?"

Carrie looked over at Tammy, but ignored her. She kept talking to the other girls.

Tammy interrupted again, "Carrie I'm supposed to get something to eat. Let's cut this little tour of yours short."

Carrie answered. "It's not my little tour. It's the school's tour, and you'd better pay attention"

Tammy was getting impatient. This scruffy little high school know it all wasn't going to blow her off this easily. Tammy spoke more **********. "Look Carrie I'm hungry. If you don't cut this crappy little tour short I'm leaving to get something to eat."

This time Carrie gave Tammy some attention. "Your name's Tammy right? You don't look like you need anything to eat to me. So shut your crappy little mouth."

The other girls laughed.

Tammy was pissed. First she wasn't fat, and second she didn't like being the butt of some stupid joke. "Look Carrie dear. I'm hungry, and I'm hungry now. Mike, I mean Uncle Mike is going out to eat later. If I don't get something now, I'll be **** out of luck until he gets home. Now cut this bull**** tour off now so I can eat."

Carrie looked at Tammy, and then she looked at the other girls. "It sounds like our little middle school tag along wants some attention. She has a nasty little mouth too." Then Carrie pointedly asked the other girls. "What do you think we should do about this?"

Tammy interrupted. "Don't talk about me like I wasn't here. Just do what I told you. I'm tired and I'm hungry, and I'm really getting sick of your juvenile prattle."

Carrie looked at Tammy and chuckled. "You're starting to get on my nerves now kid. Why don't you just shut up?"

Tammy stepped back from the group. Putting her hands on her hips making her jumper rise up high on her thighs she responded. "You're a nervy bitch aren't you? I said I was sick of this **** ass tour, and I'm sick of your stupid bull****. I'm hungry. Now do something about it."

Carrie looked at the other girls, all of whom were upper school students. "Well ladies, what should we do?

One of the girls spoke up. "I think she needs a lesson in manners."

Another injected. "She's got a foul mouth. I think we should wash it out with soap."

Tammy looked at the girls, and shot back. "Don't think you can try anything. You don't know who your dealing with here."

Carrie shot right back. "Oh yes we do."

Before Tammy could react Carrie had her by the arm. "Come on girls. It's time for a trip to the ladies room."

Tammy tried to get out of Carries grasp, but Carrie was bigger and much stronger. Still she struggled. "Get off me!" she chirped.

It didn't take long. Two of the girls were on her before Tammy knew what hit her. They hustled her down the short hallway and into the girl's bathroom.

Carrie took command. Looking at one of the other girls she said. "So squirt some soap in your hands and bring it here." She grabbed Tammy firmly by both arms and pushed her over one of the sinks. While Tammy squirmed Carrie pulled her jumper up over her behind. Carrie laughed and said. "Look, the kids got little sweetie panties." She went on. "Hold her against the sink. I'm going to teach little Miss Middle School a lesson."

Tammy's dress was up over her back, and her head was being pressed into the sink. She shouted. "What do you think you're going to do?"

Carried responded. "Why I'm going to do to you what every naughty little girl should get. I'm going to spank your little fanny." She arched her hand back and brought it down with a powerful smack on Tammy's left cheek.

Tammy let out a yelp. "Stop. You can't do this to me!"

Her complaint was received with another hard crisp smack on the right cheek.

Tammy tried to squirm, but to no avail. Her arms were pinioned against her back so she couldn't fight back or move. She cried out, "Stop it! That hurts. Stop!"

One of the other girls said. "Here, let me have a crack." The second girl whirled her arms around and slapped two more good ones, one on each cheek.

Tammy couldn't do anything. She was totally immobilized. Helpless .She started to cry. "Stop, oh please stop. It hurts."

By then a third had joined in. Her swipes were especially hard.

Then the second girl got an idea. "I don't think she's hurt. I think we need to examine her for injuries."

Carrie chimed in. "Here help me drop her panties. Let's see what she looks like."

Two of the girls pulled her panties down. Tammy's ass cheeks were rosy red."

One of three girls said. "My my, what a beautiful red ass."

Carrie pointed and spoke up. "Look. There's not a sign of any hair on this little twerp. She's really a little one isn't she."

The second girl looked at Tammy's nude puss. "She's got a bald little beaver." Then speaking to Tammy. "Are you sure you belong in middle school. This is an awfully young looking snatch for middle school."

Tammy was crying wholeheartedly now. There was just nothing else she could do. She whimpered. "Oh stop, please stop. Please, let me pull my pants up. I'll be good."

The third girl added. "We've hurt her. Does anybody have any medicine for her little red ass?"

The second girl said. "No. But I have some soap." She took some of the gelatinized soap from the dispenser and slathered all over Tammy's ass. "There!"

The third girl interjected. "Lather up her puss!"

The second girl put some more soap on her hands and wiped all over Tammy's exposed vagina, making sure she got some well inside."

Tammy cried. "No! That's not fair. Now I'll itch all night!" She was itching anyway. This would only make it worse!

Carrie leaned over and looked at Tammy's red and swollen face. "Well my itty bitty baby with the soapy little clitty, are you going to be well behaved?"

Tammy answered. "I'll behave."

Carrie still wasn't done. "Do we need to wash your filthy mouth out with soap?"

Tammy trembled and answered. "No."

Carrie continued. "If we don't then when we let you go you're not going to run and rat us out are you?"

Tammy answered pathetically. "No I won't tell."

Carrie said to Tammy. "You better not. You and I are in school together. Don't try anything with me. Believe me I'll get you!"

Tammy answered. "I won't tell. I won't say anything to anybody."

Carrie finished. "You better not." She went on. "Let her up girls. Let the little skin slit up"

The third girl interrupted. "Wait!"

The others stopped and looked over.

The third girl went on. "I want a kiss."

Carrie was confused. "A kiss?"

The third girl lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties exposing a neatly trimmed little bush. Yes. I want a kiss, A nice long deep kiss."

Carrie looked at the others. "What a wonderful idea. What a wonderful way for our naughty little middle schooler to show us she's sorry."

One by one the upper-school girls lifted their skirts and pulled down their panties. One by one Tammy had to crawl on her hands and knees to a waiting vagina and give each crotch a deep kiss.

The upper-school girls looked at Tammy's red tear stained face. One said. "We better get her cleaned up before we leave the bathroom.

Collectively the girls all went to work straightening Tammy's dress and wiping the pussy juice and twat hair off her face. When they thought she looked reasonably presentable the girls all returned to the hall.

They started walking down the hall. Tammy bringing up the rear. Suddenly Tammy cried out. "Wait! Stop!"

Carrie, who was in the lead chatting with one of the other girls asked. "Why? What's wring?"

Tammy replied. "I left my panties n the bathroom."

Carrie held up her right hand. She was swinging a pair of under pants. "You mean these?"

Tammy lurched to the front of the group. "Oh thank goodness!"

Carrie held them out of reach. "What's this?"

Tammy said. I need my panties."

Carrie asked. "And what's that special word we always use when we want someone to give us something?"

"Please?" Responded Tammy.

Carrie flipped the panties around and around. "I don't know. You lost them."

Tammy begged. "Please. Mike. Uncle Mike will **** me."

Carrie said. "Sure. Only you have to put them on right here."

"Here in the hallway?" Tammy asked.

Carrie answered. "Never mind. I'll just give them to Uncle Mike."

Tammy pleaded. Oh No! I'll put them on here."

The halls were starting to crowd up as the tours were all ending about the same time. Carrie handed Tammy the panties. All the girls in her group stood around and watched as Tammy tried to put her underpants back on without getting caught. She leaned forward slightly and slipped first one foot and then the other through the appropriate leg openings. She almost fell, but managed to get them on, pulling them up underneath her jumper. She had to pull her jumper up around her waist to get it done. She looked around. Some of the younger girls had seen the whole thing.

As they started back down the hall Carrie looked around. Grinning. "Is anybody interested in something to eat? They're setting up some sandwiches in the cafeteria now." She looked over at Tammy and said in a syrupy voice. "Well sweetie. Would you like anything else to eat?"

Tammy got the inferred message but ignored it. She answered. "Yes please."

As they walked back toward the cafeteria Tammy tried to recover some level of self-control, but her behind hurt, her crotch itched, her face felt prickly, and Carries had a threatening arm around a shoulder. All she could think about was her sore ass, itchy twat, loose uncomfortable bra, and the possessive arm draped over her.

Getting closer to the cafeteria Carrie whispered in her ear. "Remember. I've got my eye on you."

Tammy reflected how strong these girls were, how they'd hurt her, and how they could ruin her socially if she did have to stay at this ******** of a school. Then the horror hit her! Jesus, I'm an adult. I've been humiliated, and spanked by teenage girls. I know girls, and what happened to me tonight will spread like wildfire. I'll be the butt of every joke in the school. I'll have Mike at home, and every girl at school all taunting me. I've got to get out of this place. I've got to talk to Mike. He has no idea what it's like to be the **** bird in a middle school. He can't leave me here! Not now!

They reached the cafeteria. Carrie pulled a chair out at one of the tables. "Tammy you sit here. I'll get you something to eat."

Tammy saw the look in her eyes. Carrie was a mean one. She was smiling, but she was giving a warning too. Tammy answered. "Yes, thank you."

Carrie went to the food and beverage table. She took a paper plate, some of the plastic condiments, a coke, and piled the plate with several of the little sandwiches. She started back toward Tammy.

Before Carrie could reach Tammy, Ms. Harper intercepted her. "Thank you for volunteering to baby sit for Tammy's uncle. Here's the address. I trust you can drive her home. You won't mind taking care of things for a while. Tammy's uncle and I will be dining out, and we'll be late getting back. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. Please get Tammy in bed early. I see you've been with her. How's she been doing.

Carrie smiled at Ms. Harper. "Tammy's a little angel. She and I are going to become friends, I just know it."

Ms. Harper was visibly relieved. "I think that's great. You know we have our mentoring program here at school. I'm afraid Tammy is a shy little thing. Would you consider taking her under you wing until she gets the hang of things?"

Carrie smiled. "I'd love to Ms. Harper." Carrie started back to the table where Tammy was tremulously waiting.

When Carrie got back to the table she handed Tammy the paper plate full of the sandwiches. "I've been talking to Ms. Harper. She wants me to be your mentor while you're here. I'll be looking out for you from now on. I'm going to be your guardian angel Tammy. Isn't that going to be nice?"

Tammy almost ****** listening to what Carrie was saying, but what could she say? "Carrie I'm glad you're my mentor."

Carrie answered. "I just bet you are. Oh, by the way. I'm taking you home tonight. I'm to be your baby sitter until your uncle gets in."

Tammy was crestfallen. Of all the girls to take her home it had to be her. Tammy spoke "I'd appreciate a ride home, but it isn't necessary for you to stay. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

Carrie smiled. "Oh no Tammy. I'm your baby sitter tonight. I'll watch over you until your uncle gets home. Ms. Harper told me I'm to put you to bed. Won't that be nice Tammy?"

Tammy was thinking how she'd been trapped between a crazy husband determined to humiliate and control her every moment, and now this sadistic upper class girl who she was sure would do everything she could to make her even more miserable than she already was. Tammy didn't say anything. She just tried to finish her sandwiches without crying.

The time finally came for Tammy and Carrie to say good night to everyone. The other girls in the group all said their good byes. As they walked away one of the girls, Tammy recalled her being the one who hit the hardest, turned back and blew a kiss. She said to Tammy. "See you soon cutie pie. Have a great evening being baby sat by Carrie." She turned and walked away.

Before Tammy could offer a response Carrie had taken her hand in exactly the same manner Ms. Harper had done earlier. She said. "Come on Tammy-kins. Let's get you home before the boogie man gets us."

Tammy felt absolutely abysmal. From a distance it looked like an older sister and a younger sister.

`Walking down the sidewalk they approached Mrs. Valley and Ms. Harper. As they drew closer Carrie threw her arm around Tammy's shoulder giving her a maternal hug. She looked over at the two women. "Good night Mrs. Valley. Good night Ms. Harper. Then she looked down at Tammy, "Say good night to Ms. Harper and Mrs. Valley Tammy"

Tammy looked up at Carrie. She saw the smile and knew this wasn't a request. She looked over at the two women. "Good night Mrs. Valley. Good night Ms. Harper."

Together the two girls walked off toward Carrie's car.

For Mrs. Valley and Ms. Harper, the two women who'd taken the greatest interest in Tammy, it, looked like a match made in Heaven, classic older sister and younger sister.

As Tammy walked away with Carrie, Carrie wringing her smaller hand like some vulture with a wounded sparrow Tammy cried out inside. How am I ever going to get out this mess? I'm a grown woman! I'm an adult! Damn it! Can't anyone see I don't belong here? Stop treating me like I'm some sort of mindless senseless little porcelain doll. I'm a real person. I'm a grown up! Working herself into an emotional frenzy Tammy lost her self control. She cringed, gritted her teeth, stopped in her tracks, made a gnashing growling sound, shook her free hand, and jumped up and down twice. "Oh, ****! Stop it girl, this only makes things worse."

Carrie saw the emotional display. Speaking loud enough for the adults to hear she said, "Calm down Tammy. You can go to the bathroom when we get you home."

Tammy glared at her bigger taller, younger tormentor. "You'll be sorry for this bitch. You don't know who you're fucking with."

Carrie looked at Tammy thoughtfully. "Oh yes I do, and I know just how to treat naughty little foul mouth girls like you."

Once Tammy and Carrie got in the car and were belted in Carrie laid down the law. "When we get to your house the first thing I want you to do is go to your bedroom get undressed and wash up. I'll get your pajamas out. I'll help you with your pajamas, then I'll hear your prayers and tuck you in, and that is where you're to stay. Do you understand?"

Tammy looked at Carrie. "It's still early. I never go to bed this early. And I can put myself in bed thank you. I'll say my own prayers if I feel like it, and I never ***** in pajamas."

As Carrie drove along she spoke again. "Your uncle told me I might have trouble with you. You're a spoiled little brat Tammy, and I know how to put spoiled little brats like you in their place."

Tammy shot back, "I'm not a spoiled brat. You don't know anything about me so just shut up. You can drop me off at the front door. I can manage from there."

Carried answered. "I'm not afraid to give you another spanking. So don't press your luck."

Tammy looked at Carrie with an evil grin, "We'll see. We'll just see."

The rest of the drive was completed in silence. When they reached the condominium Tammy leapt from the car and fled for the condominium door. She thought she'd take her key, get inside and lock the harpy out. But when she got to the door and opened her little black purse, her key was nowhere to be found. She started to panic. Carrie was out of the car. She had to find her key and escape!

Carries slowly and deliberately got out of her car and casually walked to the front door. When she reached the front Tammy was still rummaging. Carrie held up a set of keys. "Is this what you're looking for?"

Tammy looked over at Carrie and recognized her house key. "How did you get my key?"

Carrie responded. "Your uncle thought you might try something, so he gave me your key."

Carrie took the key and unlocked the door. Holding the door open she looked at Tammy. "Well?"

Tammy scooted by Carrie as fast as she could and went straight for her bedroom.

Carrie followed.

Inside the bedroom Carrie pushed by Tammy and opened the top bureau drawer. There inside the drawer were Tammy's pajamas. Carrie held them up. "Well aren't they just the cat's meow. The pajamas were pink. There was a shorty top with, yes, a peter-pan collar with ruffles and short sleeves also well ruffed. There were cute little ruffles flowing down the front button-line and along the bottom edges. There was a pair of shorty under pants too. They had a ribbon belt, and more ruffles than one could imagine around the hem and across the rear. There was a pretty pink bow sewn into the rear of the panties just above the base where Tammy's ass cheeks met. They were pajamas ideally suited for a four or five year old. Carrie waited while Tammy got out of her school clothes and washed her face and hands. Then she said. "Here let me get you into your jammies."

Tammy protested. "Please Carrie I don't need any help, and I really don't wear pajamas."

The bigger girl sighed. "I will help you, and you will wear everything your uncle has for you.

Tammy was thinking about the defiant remarks she'd made in the car. She only hoped Carrie didn't take this opportunity to get even. Tammy held her head down and glanced at the floor. She was just too embarrassed and too scared to look Carrie in the eye.

Carrie took Tammy's jumper, her blouse, stockings, shoes, panties, and bra and after folding everything put it all away. "Now let's get you ready for bed. Come on in the bathroom." In the bathroom Carrie picked up a wash cloth. "Come here, let's get your face and hands all washed up."

Tammy spoke. "I just washed off. You saw me."

Carried ignored the remark. "Tammy get over here."

Tammy had no choice. She was feeling very much like a little girl. She looked toward the ceiling, she glanced down at the floor. She folded her hands in front, and then put her hands behind. She thought I'm acting just like a nine-year old, and I know Carrie sees it. She shuffled obediently over to the bigger older girl.

Carrie first gave Tammy's face and hands a good washing, but she didn't stop there. She took the wash cloth and wiped down Tammy's chest. Carrie put down the cloth, and taking her hands she softly rubbed Tammy's smallish breasts. She said. "Tammy you have nice, girlish little breasts." She took her hands and fingers and gently tickled Tammy's nipples. "You have sweet little nipples, too."

Tammy blushed. She felt her nipple ************* harden from the bigger girls fondling. Oh my god she thought. She's a lesbian. Will this never end?

Carrie got down on her knees and took the wash cloth to Tammy's lower body. She used the cloth to rub between Tammy's legs. Carrie said. "Something's not right." She put down the cloth and using her fingers she rubbed the inside of Tammy's crotch. She fingered between her pussy lips and tickled her clit. She took her index finger and gently rubbed around Tammy's ass. She poked Tammy's ass, and fit the first joint of her index finger in. That's strange? She seemed to be getting wet.

Tammy jumped and inadvertently put her hands on Carrie's shoulders. "Oh!" Was all she said.

Carrie spoke. "I thought so. Tammy you play with yourself don't you."

There wasn't anything Tammy could say. Prior to her current mental captivity she masturbated regularly, but the control Mike had over her made it impossible to tell Carrie anything. In fact, since Mike had ruined her life she'd frantically tried to get some sexual relief, but nothing had worked. She had masturbated, but she'd had no success since that first night. Hell, she'd masturbated her ass off at night in the damned cage, but got nowhere. She wanted to say no, but that was impossible. She felt like she could say yes, but that didn't seem right either. Besides, the less this girl knew about her the better. Tammy looked at Carrie, "I can't say. I mean I don't know. What I mean is well."

Carrie interrupted. "That's OK Tammy. From now on I'll be your teacher." She gave the smaller girl a lascivious grin. "I'll show you how to get your juices flowing." She kept twirling her fingers around inside Tammy's vagina with an occasional interruption as she slipped an index finger in her ass.

Tammy's first reaction was Jesus that feels good!

Then her brain scrambled for control. She's going to my teacher? I think not!

Her body reasserted itself. Hey! She pinched my clit! Oh God that was great!

Her brain fought back! I bet I know more about sex than she'll ever learn.

Her body interrupted her! God that feels good! Her fingers are so soft.

Her brain struggled to get back in! No stop thinking about that! My teacher my ass!

Her body finally took control! Holy **** she's got her finger in my ass!

Carrie kept swirling and twirling her fingers around Tammy's labial lips. She kept tweaking her clitoris. She persisted in pushing one finger in and out of her tight little ass.

Tammy said nothing. Her vagina was working over time. God those fingers were all over her lips, her clit, and inside her ass. Everything felt so damn good! Her juices were flowing like it was spring time in Iowa. This was unbearable! But she just looked at Carrie with wide-eyed and innocence.

Carrie thought. She's no innocent virgin. I hope she doesn't think I'm that stupid. Oh. Well. Let her think what she wants. She abruptly stopped the sexual massage.

Tammy grabbed Carrie's shoulders in silent entreaty. She blurted out. "Oh please don't stop!"

Carrie laughed and started to help Tammy in her pajamas. She held the top out for Tammy to put her arms through, but Carrie wouldn't let Tammy button it up. Carrie buttoned every button herself, one at a time. "My." She said. "This is a pretty little top."

Tammy was an emotional wreck. She'd been just a hair's width from sexual release when Carrie stopped. She asked. "Your going to help me with the panties?"

Carrie got the signal. This girl was hot, and wanted more. She held out the panties. Tammy went back to resting just one hand on Carrie's shoulder. She slipped her legs through one at a time. Her legs felt all fluttery like she was going to fall over. Carrie smiled. "Here let me tie your panties. She reached down and around and pulled the ribbon tight, cinching it in a pretty bow in the front.

Carrie looked down at the crushed and humiliated Tammy She had no intention of helping her out of her dilemma. At least not just yet! "Turn around so I can see you."

Tammy had no choice. She slowly turned all the way around.

Carrie went on, "Sweetie you look like a little angel. You should see that cute little bow in the back. It makes your little ass stick out like a heart shaped bubble. Oh what a nice little name. Tammy Bubble Butt! Now jump into bed, and we'll say prayers together."

Tammy couldn't remember ever being so degraded. She thought about the birdcage, the trip to the school, the tour, the spanking in the bathroom. She thought. My life is turning into a living hell. How am I ever going to get out of this?

They said prayers together. Carrie made a big deal of making sure Tammy knelt properly, and her hands were correctly folded. Then she went to turn out the light. Now the light was situated on top of the bureau, and the top drawer was still open. Carrie glanced in. Normally she wasn't the curious type, but something caught her eye. There was something unusual, something that looked out of place in the drawer. She pushed aside some of the stockings and then she saw what it was. Picking up the collar and leash she turned around. "Tammy." She said. "What have we here?"

Tammy looked to see what Carrie wanted. Oh no. She's found Mike's stupid collar. "What do you mean?"

Carrie had an inscrutable look on her face. "What's this Tammy"?

Tammy sat up to look. It was a subterfuge. She knew what Carrie had found! Tammy was sitting up in her pajamas with her hands behind her back. She shifted her weight from side to side and looked down at the bed sheets. She was trying to think of something to say. The problem was she couldn't think of a lie that was plausible. "I don't know."

Carrie watched Tammy as she tried to wriggle out of her new situation. "Yes you do. Now what's this all about?"

Tammy got out of bed. Looked across the room. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. She clasped her hands in front of her. "Honest Carrie I don't know what that is."

Carrie stared her down. "Yes you do."

"Honest Carrie. I don't know." What else could she say?

The bigger girl started. "Well I'll tell you what we have. First I got a collar, looks about your size, and there's a padlock and key with it. Second, it looks like there are two other collar things. They look a lot smaller, and I bet they'll just fit around someone's wrists. They have padlocks too. Third, I think we have two more collar things, smaller than the first but bigger then the second, and they have padlocks. Next, oh look, it looks like two dog ******* but the ***** rings must have been cut off. And just guess here's a pair of pliers and four cut ***** rings. Last. Well look at this. I've found a length of chain. It looks to be about seven or eight feet long. There's one padlock hooked at one end. Tammy what do you make of all this?"

Tammy couldn't tell Carrie what Mike had bought them for, and there wasn't any excuse she could think of that made any sense. "Carrie I don't know. It's all new to me."

Carrie moved very close to Tammy. "You know what I think. I think some little school girl has a very serious fetish. Tell me I'm wrong."

Tammy said. "I don't know what you mean."

Carrie was towering over Tammy. " I mean I think I've found a collar, a leash, two wrist manacles with connecting chain, and two ankle manacles also with a connecting chain. That's what I think. And you know what else? I think they're all yours."

Tammy was looking down at her feet. She looked at the mirror on the far wall. She tried the ceiling. Her eyes started to fill with tears. She wrung her hands. "I don't know what you mean."

For Carrie this was fun. This little girl was a real squirrel, a real pervert. "Come over here and kneel on the floor."

Tammy started to walk toward the far side of the bed.

Carrie stopped her and pointed to the floor in front f her feet. "No here, kneel down in front of me."

Tammy looked around the room. Trying to find a straw to grasp. "Carrie, No."

Carrie said. "No what?"

Tammy. "Don't."

Carrie. "Don't what?"

Tammy. "Don't, you know."

Carrie. "Don't you know what?"

Tammy. "Carrie, just don't."

Carrie. "Kneel down over here like I said."

Tammy knelt down in front of the bigger stronger girl.

Carrie. "Hold your head up."

Tammy held her head up. Carrie slipped the largest collar around her neck, and fixed it on with the padlock. "Look! A perfect fit!"

Tammy spoke to no one in particular. "Oh no. What happens to me now?"

Prologue: I know its been a while since we've heard from Tammy, Carrie and Mike. We had a few minor issues to resolve. Be advised Carrie is over eighteen, and Tammy, though being dressed and treated like a ***** is a woman grown. Knowing that, I think its safe to go on.

Here I am thought Tammy. I'm caught up in another of my husband's stupid little traps. First, he'd left her with this stupid private school senior. What if she were under age? Tammy asked, "How old are you Carrie?"

"Don't worry about me Tammy girl. I turned eighteen three months ago."

Tammy breathed a sigh of relief. Since she was a woman fully grown, and Carrie was at the age of consent nobody could accuse them on morals grounds. As far as it went, even though she was trapped playing a school girl, they were both fully grown adults at least in a chronological sense. No matter what kind of crazy perverted acts Carrie had in mind both were really women.

Tammy wasn't just pissed about being left with an eighteen year old potential nympho, while her husband was out trying to score with the school headmistress; her husband had left those idiotic little pet collars and chains in the top drawer of her bureau, and now her erstwhile mentor, but actual tormentor, Carrie had found them.

Tammy couldn't tell her the truth, that her so called uncle was really her perverted husband, and he'd bought the pet supplies only to use to ******* her. No she couldn't say that. And she couldn't just make something up. Anything she made up would sound too ridiculous to be plausible.

Tammy decided to let Carrie use her imagination. Now as she looked at what Carrie was doing, she figured out Carrie believed she, Tammy, was some kind of pervert, a masochist.

Carrie looked over the little collars. She was trying to decide what to do with them. This was all too good to be true. Carrie started thinking.

She started thinking about her boyfriend. At twenty he was a real weirdo, but she hung out with him because he was such a stud. All the other girls were jealous because she had him. None of them knew the truth about what a sick *** of a gun he really was. Carrie smiled. Here she was. The girl with the weirdo boyfriend, and now she had a sick perverted new student in her grasp. Oh what fun! What fun she was going to have. Carrie told Tammy, "Hold out your hands."

Tammy held out her hands.

Then Carrie got another better idea, "Sit back on your ass and hold your hands out beside your feet."

Tammy gave Carrie a wide-eyed bewildered look, but she did as she was told.

With Tammy sitting on her ass, her feet splayed out beside each ass cheek, hands beside each foot Carrie went to work.

She took one of the larger collars and fastened it around Tammy's right foot, took a smaller collar and fastened it to her right hand. She took one of the lengths of short chain and padlocked it to the right ankle collar and then took the other end and padlocked it to her right wrist collar. She performed the same operation on her left side.

Oh Yes! She had Tammy's right ankle chained to her right wrist and her left ankle chained to her left wrist with only about seven inches of chain to spare on either side.

Carrie looked down at her helpless charge. Tammy was sitting on her ass with her hands chained to her feet. Carrie still hadn't decided whether to chain Tammy's head to the bed when she thought of something else, "Tammy get up on your knees."

Tammy squirmed around until she was kneeling on her knees. Her hands were now behind her back as they were closely connected to her feet.

Carrie sat down on the bed, "Jeez Tammy this has been a long day for me. I'm stressed. I need some relaxation." She asked, "Tammy do you what cunnilingus is?"

Tammy knew, and gave audible sigh.

Carrie smiled, "You do know. Well that's wonderful." Carrie leaned forward on the bed and slipped her dress up behind her rear end. Then she reached inside her dress and pulled down her panties. "Tammy." She said, "Come lean up here and give your new best friend Carrie a little love."

Tammy knew exactly what Carrie wanted, but she decided to try to get out of it, "Carrie I don't know what you mean."

Carrie laughed, "You know exactly what I mean. I want you to stick your face up here between my legs and then I want you to lick, kiss, and suck the **** out of my pussy."

She grabbed Tammy's hair and pulled her so far forward her face was stuffed right in the middle of her neatly trimmed pussy, "Now Tammy dear show your new mentor, your new big sister, how much you appreciate her." Carrie let go of Tammy's hair and laid back on the bed.

There it was. Tammy on her knees with her hands tightly held behind her with the short chains. Her face was pushed deep between Carrie's legs into her pussy.

Tammy thought. ****! This is one sweaty mess. She smells like fish. I bet she hasn't had a bath since early this morning.

Carrie whispered loudly, "I'm waiting."

Tammy had her nose between Carrie's pussy lips. It was hard to breathe. She decided. If she had to do this she shouldn't have to ********* while doing it.

She leaned back a little to get in a better position.

As Tammy leaned back Carrie gave out a loud yelp, "****!" she called out, "What in the hell are you doing?" She pushed Tammy's head away. As she did so the pain became even worse.

Tammy, leaning back, was afraid but also a little amused. She said, "My retainer."

Carried asked, "You're what?"

Tammy told her, "I still have my retainer in. Some of your hair got stuck in it."

Carrie reached down holding out her hand. "Here spit it out in my hand."

Tammy spat out the hated mouthpiece.

Carrie laid back on the bed again, "Now get in there and get me off."

Tammy leaned into Carrie's stinky sweaty puss and slowly did what she had to do. She'd never done anything like this before, and she wasn't happy about the situation. She thought it couldn't be too much different than fiddling with a man's Wing-dang. Leaning forward with her shoulders Tammy started licking up and down over Carries pussy lips. She pushed in further and found Carrie's clitoris.

Using her tongue and lips Tammy pressed, licked, and kissed Carrie's puss, licking up and down the seam between her labials lips and kissing that hard little knob at the top, her clitoris. She could sense Carrie's rising heat, and she could feel the moisture oozing out around her mouth and cheeks.

Tammy kept up the pressure. She licked as deep as she could. She wiggled her head from side to side She pinched Carrie's labia with her teeth. She could feel Carrie getting wetter and hotter. Carrie started to quiver. Tammy felt her as she began to buck back and forth and then up and down. Carrie was shivering and squirming.

Tammy knew she was bringing her tormentor to climax. Since Tammy's hands were locked behind her she had to repeatedly shift her weight and sidle from knee to knee. She thought, if she had her hands free she could really do a better job. She didn't know it precisely, but she was already doing a great job.

Carrie wriggled and squiggled for all she was worth. She wrapped her legs around Tammy's head, and with her two hands pulled Tammy in as far as she could. Then her whole body exploded in Tammy's face. Carrie was having a hot one.

For Carrie the experience was the best sex she'd had in least a month. She'd never had a girl touch her down there before, and this was just an idle experiment. It was greatest! She felt excited, nervous, and completely at ease all at the same time!

She lay there exhausted. She kept her hands on Tammy's head, continuing to pull her face into her snotty gooey little beaver. She kept her legs wrapped tightly around the other girl's head. This was the greatest! For several seconds she lay quietly on the bed.

Tammy sat there. What else could she do? Her hands were locked by the wrist to her ankles. She couldn't get away. Her face was trapped inside Carrie's dirty little snatch. Tammy's cheeks, mouth, nose, eyes, and forehead were all sticky with Carrie's goop. God Tammy thought. It felt like her whole head was covered in tree sap, except this **** stunk! Really stunk!

Carrie finally leaned up on her arms. Leaning down over the bed to where Tammy was kneeling she said, "Squirm up here and get on the bed with me."

Tammy heard her and started squirming around; anything to get out of this awful sticky mess. She was kneeling with her hands back just a few inches from her feet. She tried to find a way to stand up but instead only ended up sitting on her behind.

Carrie called again, "Tammy I said get up here."

Tammy answered, "I can't get up. You have to unfasten my hands."

Carrie got out of the bed and looked down at where Tammy was sitting, "No way, lean forward and get back on your knees."

Tammy struggled and finally got back into a kneeling position.

Carrie said, "I'm going to put my hands under your armpits and lift you to your feet." She pulled Tammy to her feet.

Tammy found herself on her feet but bent over and barely to maintain her balance.

Carrie said, "I'm going to push you on the bed." Then getting under Tammy's elevated ass Carries started pushing Tammy up and on the bed; after some huffing and puffing Carrie did get Tammy on her side and on the bed.

Carrie said, "Now wiggle back to the pillow and lay on your back."

With great difficulty Tammy managed to wriggle and squirm her way backward to the pillows. She said, "Carrie, please unlock me and let me at least lie down and go to ******"

Carrie responded, "Not a chance. I've never had a girl locked up before, and I want to see what I can do to you."

Tammy pleaded, "Oh please Carrie. Unlock my hands. I don't know how much longer before Mike, I mean my uncle will get here. You can't let him see me like this."

Carrie was on the bed beside Tammy. She lay beside her and reached her hand down inside Tammy's pajama bottoms. She started tickling up and down Tammy's slit, "How do you like that Tammy?"

Tammy answered, "Carrie I don't know how it feels. All I feel is tied up and uncomfortable. Please unlock me before my uncle gets home."

Carrie leaned down and got her face close to Tammy's crack. She unbuttoned the buttons that Tammy might normally have unbuttoned to go to the bathroom. She reached in with her hand and started rubbing Tammy's puss with some real determination. She could feel Tammy was already wet. Carrie leaned down into Tammy's crotch and gave a tentative lick. It was a sideways lick that pulled one lip away from the other for a second.

It was her first taste of woman juice. She wasn't sure of she liked it so she went back at it with her fingers. She took the finger of her right hand and sort of tickled around the top of Tammy's lips. She let one finger slip in between and inside her puss. The taste wasn't great, but the idea of masturbating another girl seemed kind of fun.

She thought, since she had Tammy all chained up she could do anything she wanted. She could tickle and pinch her pussy all night, or at least till her uncle got home. She could get Tammy hot and then back off. She wondered how many times she could bring this girl to the edge and then leave her there.

When at home on the weekends she could work herself up like that all Saturday morning, but she was always in charge then. This girl, Tammy, wasn't in control. She was. Tammy wouldn't know if she was going to get off, or if she was just being led to the edge. Carrie thought it would be funny to keep getting her hot, then stop.

Tammy was twisting and turning, "Oh, stop Carrie. Stop it Carrie."

Carrie kept kissing, and licking. She pressed her tongue as deep into her crack as it would go. It was a salty, fishy, taste. She lapped her lips all around Tammy's labia. She took her tongue and started lapping at Tammy's vagina She used her lips to pinch the top of Tammy's cleft.

Tammy pleaded, "Please stop Carrie. It doesn't feel good."

Carrie figured she was lying and kept at it.

Tammy was doing some serious squirming, bucking, and twitching. Finally it was more than she could take. She started pushing down against Carrie's face. She pushed as hard as she could. Her puss was crying out. She was in a confused storm of twisted emotions and carnal sensations. She was vacillating between pain and rapture, between tight friction and overwhelming exhilaration. She was as excited as she'd ever been. She was being deluged with physical messages.

It was unbearable. She bucked wildly. She wished her hands were free so she could grab Carrie's head and pull her closer. She twisted, trying to escape Carrie's merciless tongue. She tried to roll away. She tried mightily to move her hands to grasp at Carrie's head. She wanted to escape. She wanted what was happening. She was wild with unrestrained physical abandon.

Then it started to happen. She felt like she was splitting apart. She felt her ass ************* constrict and then dilate. She felt her pussy press outward and then inward. Her labia was swollen outward, pressing against the soft fabric of her pajama panties causing unparalleled sensitivity.

She was almost climaxing. Sweat was pouring from her, and yet she felt hot and dry. And then! And then? Carrie stopped! Tammy bucked several more times. Where was the damn tongue? What happened to Carrie? She looked up and there she saw Carrie leaning back smiling at her.

Carried gave a stifled giggle, "What do you want Tammy?"

Tammy tried to roll over. She cringed, "Oh No!"

Carrie heard the plaintive cry of the younger girl and felt a twinge of remorse, a droplet of compassion. She leaned forward again and pressed her mouth back on the ******** girl's vagina. Using her mouth like a vacuum cleaner she licked and bit at the girl's fatty tissue just above her clitoris.

Tammy cried out, "Carrie! Oh God! Carrie! Help me, it's just so sensitive! Stop I can't bear it anymore!" She peaked and climaxed like a wave rolling in from the sea.

The wave of physical pleasure crested and crashed like a thunderous cumulonimbus cloud. She cried out! Then she started to really cry. Oh thank God she thought. Wonderful!

Even as she cried Carrie kept licking and kissing. Tammy felt Carrie's fingertips inside her ass. She was pushing one of her fingers into her ass. Tammy rose again. She was completely beyond control. She climaxed again. "Carrie! She screamed. Oh my God! Please it's too much."

Carrie finally released her from her agony. The helpless hopeless sensations of pain and pleasure subsided.

Tammy lay on the bed, exhausted and out of breath, Carrie took the keys and unlocked the padlocks holding her hands and legs together. She unlocked the collars around her wrists and ankles allowing Tammy to relax her body and stretch her arms upward and her legs outward. Carrie did not unlock the collar that was cinched around Tammy's neck. That she left on.

Tammy lay on the bed spent and completely relaxed, "Oh God. Thank you Carrie." She lay there a few more seconds, "Aren't you going to unlock this thing around my neck?"

Carrie answered, "No I don't think I want to do that just yet. Let's leave it on a while. You go ahead and pull the covers up and try to go to *****. I'm going in the living room."

Tammy was bewildered. Her uncle would be home soon. What if he came in and found the collar around her neck, "Carrie" She said, "Mike, my uncle I mean, will be home any time now. He can't see me in this."

Carrie yawned, "I don't know Tammy. He just might. Then again when he comes home I might tell him you're already asleep, and that before I leave I'll look in on you. If you're a very good girl and do three things for me while I'm outside then I might take your collar off."

Tammy asked, "What do you want me to do?"

Carrie hesitated then answered, "I want you to lay here and be very quiet. I want you to think about all the things that have happened to you tonight, and how, what with you in that collar, you're dependent on what I do. Last, I'm going to go through your clothes while you're there in bed. I am going to pick out what I want you to wear when you get up tomorrow."

Tammy listened, "Carrie we don't have school tomorrow. I don't know what my uncle wants me to do yet."

Carrie grinned at Tammy, "Don't worry about that. I'll talk to him. You're going out with me tomorrow. I'll be by at 11:00. Now roll over, close your eyes, and don't peak while I choose something for you to wear."

Tammy did as she was told, while Carrie started going through the clothes. There wasn't a very wide array of apparel, and most of it was ********. She wondered what Carrie would pick. She hoped Carrie wouldn't forget about the collar, and she prayed that Mike would let her go out with Carrie.

Carrie was quick in her decisions. Soon she had everything hanging on a hanger outside Tammy's closet. She walked to the bureau, turned out the light, and then left the room closing the door behind her.

Tammy lay in her bed under the covers and started thinking. I'm trapped like a rat in a trap. I'm not only Mike's slave and sex toy; I now seem to be the property of a girl, though of legal age, seemingly years younger than I.

One wants to humiliate control and degrade, and the other, well I don't know what Carrie has in mind. I wonder what Carrie does have on her mind. She sure pushed me around properly tonight at the school, and she didn't hesitate to lock me up in those things Mike bought. She made me get her off, but then even after she got hers she still got me off.

Carrie's a bitch, but I think I'm better off with her than Mike. Who knows? There still might be way I can get my identity back. For that matter my true size. Hell! Carrie might be my ticket back! I'm going to lay here quiet as a church mouse and pretend to be a*****. I sure hope Carrie doesn't forget me.

Maybe an hour after Carrie saw Tammy off to bed Mike got back home. When he walked in Carrie could tell he was little tipsy, and perhaps a little annoyed. Carrie bet to herself that he had tried to hit on Ms. Harper and found out she was a raging flaming lesbian who'd hit on half the girls in the senior class. Anyway he was back home, and Carrie was able to leave.

Mike asked, "Has Tammy been a good girl for everyone while I was gone?"

Carrie answered, "Tammy's a wonderful girl. Everyone likes her."

As he opened his wallet he asked, "How much do I owe you?"

Carrie answered in her best senior high school voice, "Mr. Mike I don't want you to pay me anything. I like Tammy, and I think it would be wrong of me to take money from you for this. I think Tammy and I are going to become good friends. I'm a younger sister, but I've never had a little sister I could all my own, at least until now. I think Tammy and I are going to become close friends."

Mike was a little perturbed, "So you and Tammy are getting to be friends. That's unusual, she seldom makes many friends."

Carrie answered, "Well Mr. Mike, this is a new situation for Tammy, and she's older now too. I think, once she finds out how things work at our school she'll have many friends." Then Carrie hit Mike with the $64,000.00 question, "If it's OK with you, I thought I could take Tammy out to meet some new people tomorrow. That is if you don't mind."

Mike was becoming interested in the turn of events. Earlier Tammy was dead set against everything he'd planned for her. Half the fun he was having was in seeing her stress out. He wondered where this might be going. He said, "I don't mind. When were you going to pick her up?"

Carrie answered, "Thanks Mr. Mike. I was going to be by around 11:00. Tammy was sort of excited about the chance to meet some kids from school. She and I even picked out something for her to wear. You know that pretty pink outfit with the matching shoes and stockings?"

Mike smiled, that was an outfit he'd picked. He was sure she wouldn't like it, "Look if you can put up with her, then she's all yours tomorrow."

Carrie gave Mike her best innocent senior high school smile, "Thank you Mr. Mike. If you don't mind I'm going to go back in and make sure she's all right."

Mike answered, "Sure."

Carrie casually got up from the sofa and walked back to Tammy's bedroom. She quietly opened the door and went to the side of Tammy's bed. She whispered, "Tammy. You awake?"

Tammy rolled over, "Of course I'm awake. I've been here waiting for you to come and take this stupid collar off."

Carrie reached for the collar and unlocked it. Putting the key and collar back in the top drawer of the bureau she turned and spoke, "Your uncle said we could go out tomorrow. Whatever you do don't argue with him. Put on the outfit I've chosen. I'll be by to pick you up at 11:00. Tammy I had a good time tonight once we got back to your condo. If you don't want to go out with me tomorrow just say so, and we'll scrap the whole thing."

Tammy sat up in bed, "No. I'll be ready. I'll wear whatever you picked out. I'll do anything to get away from this place."

Carrie leaned down and kissed Tammy on the lips, "This is all new to me. I like you. We'll talk tomorrow." Then she got up and left the room.

In the living room she said good bye to Mike ,and left.

No sooner had Carrie left then Mike was in Tammy's bedroom. He turned the light on, "Well Tammy girl wake up."

Tammy slowly sat up pretending like Mike had just awakened her, "What do you want Mike?"

Mike looked her over, "You know what I want. Now get out of bed and get in the living room."

Tammy looked at him, "Mike I'm awful tired. The girls had me going all night after you left. It's been a busy evening. Can't we just skip whatever it is you want for this one night?"

Mike answered, "Certainly not! I've been looking forward to a some attention from my little canary."

Tammy got the subtle inference, "I'm coming." Tammy was careful getting out of bed. She was afraid the slap marks on her butt might still be visible. She didn't want to explain a spanking to her husband.

In the living room Mike leaned back on the couch. "Come over here and kneel in front of your ever loving man. I want to get a look at you."

Tammy came over and knelt in front of her husband. She was thinking. I'll do anything to get him off my back tonight.

Mike spoke, "Hey look here at what I bought you while I was out."

Tammy became suddenly very alert, "He's bought something. He's up to something."

Mike opened a small box, "Look here Tammy. I've gotten you a real collar and some real manacles. Let's try them on."

Tammy thought, 'Oh Jesus. Will this never end?'

Follow up or something:

I know it's been a while since I've been with Tammy, Mike, and now Carrie. There were some problems, but I think they're cleared up now. All three of our primary players are of legal age. Next we'll see what happens when Carrie and Tammy go out on a Saturday, and there's Monday, Tammy's first day at her new school.

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Black Cheerleaders Rock!



How are you folks doing today? I want to tell you the story of how I met my wife. I was only a University freshman when I met her. She was simply the most amazing chick on campus. Vanessa Saint Richard. ******** of Boston-based Haitian-American Lawyer James Saint Richard and Brazilian-born Canadian Real Estate Legend Maria Ramos. A five-foot-nine, lean and athletic young woman with golden brown skin, long Black hair and light brown eyes. This African-American princess ruled the Carleton University campus.

That's right. Does that surprise you? A Black woman basically runs the social scene at Canada's Capital University. And everyone knew it. Jennifer Saint Richard was Captain of the Cheerleading Squad. There were thirty young women on the Squad and only six of them were of African descent. There were three Latinas and two Asian young women. Yeah, women of color are an anomaly on Canadian cheerleading squads. Yet a young Black woman ran the whole show. Amazing. How did so do it? With strength, determination, and the inability to take no for an answer.

I've always been fascinated by North America's Black women. Black Canadian women are okay but African-American women fascinate me. They're amazingly beautiful. They're also smart, strong and passionate. They fear no one. Growing up, I had crushes on Black American female celebrities like Hollywood actress Angela Bassett, TV Legend Jada Pinkett Smith, World Tennis Champion Serena Williams, Pop Culture Icon Pam Grier, Award-winning Singer Alicia Keys and many others. I fell in love with a young Black woman named Elise Nielson during my senior year at New York's Saint Joseph Academy. She was the first gal I ever made love with. After graduation, she went on to attend Boston College. These days, she's dating a football player from the University of Massachusetts. I'm so jealous!

Who am I? Aabideen Akbar Mahmoud. A young woman from the United Arab Emirates. My family moved to New York City when I was much younger. I grew up in America but will always feel like a foreigner here. I stand five feet nine inches tall, chubby and busty, with dark bronze skin, Black hair and pale brown eyes. The life of an Arab woman in North America is never easy. I have family in the United States of America, particularly in New York City. I'm attending Carleton University on an academic scholarship. There are quite a few people from the Middle east living in the City of Ottawa. However, I can't stand to live in the City of Ottawa. If you ask me, Ottawa is home to the most bigoted and racist people on the planet. They hide their contempt for immigrants of non-European origin behind their fake smiles. I can't stand the typical Canadians. I find the sons and ********s of immigrants from the Caribbean and Latin America to be really nice people. That's why most of my friends at Carleton University were either Black or Hispanic.

Among these lively young men and women, I felt quite welcome. Most people assume I'm Hispanic due to my looks. I don't find this annoying or offensive in the least. I have lots of friends from Latin America. However, I'm a proud Arab woman. Being an Arab gal in a very Western City wasn't easy. A lot of the White guys and White chicks at Carleton University didn't hide their contempt for Muslims, especially Arab women like myself. I complained to the Dean of Students but she told me there was nothing she could do. Canadians are racist. That's the way they all are. All of them without exception. And they're not changing anytime soon.

When I heard those words, my heart sank. I was bitterly resigned to my fate. I tried to balance my life and be faithful both to my Arabic heritage and the things I had to do to survive in North America. I often wore brightly coloured T-shirts and jeans, but I also wore the hijab. The Canadians always gave me funny looks because of this. I've come to accept the fact that all Canadians are racist bozos who hate Africans, Asians, Hispanics and Arabs yet hide their bigotry behind fake smiles and a supposed politeness. At least in America you know what you're dealing with.

One day, this racist fat White chick basically cornered me in the cafeteria with two of her White female friends. They called me a towel head and told me to go back to the Middle East. Defiant to the end, I spat on the face of the fat White chick nearest me and smacked another. That really pissed them off. I'm not exactly a dainty dame. I stand five foot nine inches tall and weigh two hundred and ten pounds. I grew up with four older brothers in New York City so I knew how to fight. However, I was outnumbered. I was about to get my big ass kicked when someone came to my rescue. It was none other than Vanessa Saint Richard, the tall and sexy Haitian chick from the Carleton University Varsity Cheerleading Squad. She waded into the White chicks and kicked their butts. Wow. I had never seen anything like it. The bigoted chicks ran off, unable to take on the strong Black woman.

And that's how I met Vanessa Saint Richard. She was absolutely magnificent. Vanessa looked into my eyes and asked me if I was okay. I nodded, fascinating by how beautiful she was. She was half Haitian and half Puerto Rican but considered herself one hundred percent Black. She kind of reminded me of that sexy Black actress who played T.I.'s love interest in the hit movie ATL. In other words, she was amazingly beautiful. I was too mesmerized by her natural beauty to say anything. Vanessa assumed my silence was due to shock. Lucky me. She escorted me to the campus security office where I reported the incident. The three White chicks who attacked me were subsequently thrown out of Carleton University. Thanks to the strength and bravery of a young Black woman, justice was done. To say that I was enthralled by Vanessa would have been an understatement. I was ready to worship her as a Nubian Goddess.

I learned a lot more about Vanessa Saint Richard over the next few months. She was the most interesting person I met. So fine, sexy and sincere. The combination was rare in Canada. She reminded me so much of the strong Black women I knew in Harlem, a suburb of New York City. Makes sense since she was born in the United States of America. In Massachusetts, to be exact. Vanessa maintains dual American and Canadian citizenship. During the summer, she vacations at her ******** house in Boston. Her parents are divorced but still amicable. She confided in me that she wanted to live in Boston after graduating from Carleton University. Well, I shared that sentiment. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in Canada. In America, people are more genuine. Your friends are your friends. And your enemies are your enemies. You can easily tell them apart because people are usually ******** honest. In Canada, the bigots are polite and flash you a fake smile more often than clowns. They make me sick.

The school year went by pretty fast. I had become Vanessa's new best friend. I helped her with the preparations for the annual party thrown by the Haitian students on May 18, internationally known as Haitian Flag Day. It was a very lively party. Hundreds of young men and women of Haitian descent from schools like the University of Ottawa, Algonquin College and La Cite Collegiale came to Carleton University for the party. We had a good time. It was at the party that I noticed that while Vanessa was friendly to everyone, she didn't appear interested in men. My heart skipped a beat when I realized that. Could my gorgeous Haitian-American Princess be queer like me? I could only hope.

After the party, Vanessa and I went to my dorm to chill a little bit. We sat on my living room couch and watched TV. They were giving the movie The Incredibly True Adventures Of Two Girls In Love on the Diva Channel. It's an old lesbian classic. An old flick about an interracial lesbian relationship. An upper-middle-class Black chick falls in love with a working-class White tomboy. Talk about a mismatch. Vanessa watched it with interest. Especially the love scenes between the star-crossed lesbian lovers. Wow. I sat on the couch wearing a red T-shirt and shorts. Vanessa wore a short dress and a T-shirt. She looked simply delicious. Tentatively, I touched her thigh. She looked at me but didn't move my hand away.

Emboldened, I caressed her shapely thighs, and looked into Vanessa's eyes. In those lovely brown eyes of hers, I saw an intense desire. That's when I kissed her. Our lips met, and it was the most passionate kiss of my life. Gently, we undressed each other and began exploring each other. I caressed Vanessa's ripe, full breasts and gently licked the areolas. Gently I spread her thighs, and slipped one finger inside her already wet pussy. After a minute, I added another. She seemed to like that. Vanessa moaned as I began fucking her with my fingers. Smiling, I began licking and fingering her. She tasted absolutely wonderful to my lips. My sweet Black Goddess.

Vanessa and I went to my bedroom, where we continued our fun. I went down on her, licking and fingering her sweet pussy. Then she went down on me. My Vanessa licked and fingered my pussy with gusto. Hell, she made me purr like a kitten. I took out my bag of toys to spice things up. I handed Vanessa a sleek pink dildo and she used it to fuck me. I rubbed my tits together as she thrust the dildo into my cunt. I told her to fuck me hard and she did it happily. My sexy Black Princess fucked me hard, making me squeal in delight. I was only too happy to return the favour after.

This time, I wore a strap-on dildo. And I heartily fucked Vanessa with it. First, she sucked my dildo and I must say the sight of her sucking it sent a thrill in my pussy. Then I put her on all fours, caressing her sexy, heart-shaped booty before sliding my dildo into her pussy lips. And just like that I began fucking my sexy Black Goddess. Vanessa was a real screamer as I fucked her with my strap-on. I loved every minute of it. I buried my dildo deep into her cunt and spanked her big butt. We had a lot of wild, kinky fun during that first night.

The next morning, I woke up next to my Vanessa. And she looked so lovely. I kissed her lips tenderly and told her how much she meant to me. Vanessa smiled and told me she cared about me too. What a pair we made. A Black cheerleader and an Arab woman, both lesbians, meeting and falling in love at a Canadian University. Now you've seen everything. It was just the beginning for Vanessa and me. That summer, I accompanied her to Boston and met her ******. He was cool with his ******** dating me. We were officially a couple, and would eventually move to Boston together after graduating from Carleton University. I love my Black Goddess. And I would eventually marry her in a legally binding ceremony attended by both of our families in Boston. Life is perfect now.

All the things I've done. They never truly cease to amaze me. My name is Marguerite Fils-Aime. A young Black woman of Haitian descent living in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. I'm a student at Sanctus Magnus University, a private Catholic school located in the heart of Boston. These days, I'm simply having the time of my life. The life of a Black lesbian in North America is never easy but there are many joyful moments. I just seduced my Butch lesbian girlfriend Isabel into letting me fuck her with my strap-on dildo and then I blasted the news to all of our queer friends before dumping her sorry butt. Am I good or what?

A lot of people underestimate me. That's what happens when you're a five-foot-six, slim Black chick. When I tried out for the Sanctus Magnus University Varsity Cheerleading Squad, no one thought I would make it. Not only did I make it on the Squad but a year later I became its Captain. The White chicks were stunned. I guess I showed them. Sanctus Magnus University considers itself a diverse institution. Students of African-American, Asian, Hispanic or Native American descent make up thirty two percent of the overall student body. However, this school is as bigoted and elitist as they come. Trust me on that one.

The school boasts that it has forty six Blacks, nineteen Indians, thirty one Hispanics and seventeen Asians among its six-hundred-person faculty. Sometimes I think the people who run Sanctus Magnus University like the smell of their own farts. The school's President, a Roman Catholic Priest named Fr. Jonathan Frasier, is a horny bastard who spends most of his time chasing campus broads. The rest of the time he's meeting international visitors and talking to the press. What a clown. The school's Chancellor, Dr. Adam Brown, is an admirable man. The first African-American chosen to be Chancellor of a Catholic University in the United States of America. He's a Howard University graduate with a Master's degree in Business Administration. He later went to Harvard University. Now he's stuck being the number two guy to a man who is clearly his inferior intellectually. Welcome to Collegiate America. Enjoy your stay.

I came to Sanctus Magnus University for only one reason. To improve their image, they went to inner-City High Schools and offered four-year academic scholarships to the mostly Black and Hispanic students who graduated with a 3.0 GPA or above. Sanctus Magnus University is one of the Whitest schools in the City of Boston. Even big private schools like Northeastern University, Boston College, Boston University and Suffolk University have more diverse student body profiles. Whites are now the minority in the City of Boston. They're outnumbered by the Asians, African-Americans, Hispanics and Arabs. And they're not happy about it but they have to play ball with us. Especially since the Governor of Massachusetts is an African-American gentleman.

It's in this politically charged environment that I found myself searching for love. I recently discovered that I was gay. Not an easy thing to be when you're a young Black woman. The African-American community isn't known for its support of gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transsexuals. We're a homophobic lot, it must be said. There are a few Black girls at SMU but they're mostly straight. Every Black woman in college wants to get herself a good-looking, educated Black man before graduation. I can't blame my straight sisters for being gung-ho in their search for the brother of their dreams. The competition for available Black men is complicated by the fact that there aren't as many as they'd like, and many good-looking, educated and supposedly heterosexual Black males often date Asian women, White women or Hispanic women these days. Every Black woman at SMU wants a Black man. I'm a Black woman searching for a Black woman. Do you understand my dilemma now?

I met this chick who was quite hot. Isabel Benedetto. A six-foot-tall, light-skinned, kind of burly Black chick with short hair. She was half Black and half Italian. I don't usually go for Butch chicks or mixed chicks but she was cute. She plays Rugby for SMU. Isabel came to me with that Butch chick's swagger and cockiness. I decided to play along. Isabel Benedetto is a student-athlete at Sanctus Magnus University. Her ******, Gino Benedetto is an Italian Lothario well-known to SMU faculty because he played football for the school in the late 1970s. These days, he's a Fire Chief in South Boston. Isabel's ****** Elise Germain is a Black woman of Haitian descent yet Isabel herself doesn't speak a word of Haitian Creole. She is however fluent in Italian. I can't stand Black people who are White-washed. Isabel looked like a Black woman but she sounded and acted like a White chick. Let's just say I didn't think much of her but I was bored and horny so I stuck with her.

After we started dating, I tried to school Isabel about Black History and life in the Americas. She didn't know Jack about Toussaint Louverture, the Black man who helped end slavery on the Island of Haiti by starting the Revolution which eventually saw the French oppressors driven off the island. She didn't know about Jean-Baptiste Pointe Du Sable, the Haitian-born immigrant who founded the City of Chicago in Illinois. Nor did she know about Jean-Jacques Dessalines, the Black man who founded the Republic of Haiti after driving off English, Spanish and French ******. Nope. She didn't know Jack about these great Black men. Yet she knew all about Christopher Columbus, the bigoted Italian bastard who supposedly discovered America. The guy is responsible for more deaths than Adolf Hitler. He committed genocide on a grander scale. Yet the Americans named a holiday after him. And Isabel considered herself Italian-American rather than African-American. Wow. Her Italian ****** did a good job brainwashing her, huh?

Isabel was easy on the eyes, but she was about as interesting as wet paint. I had my fun with her. A lot of Butch women assume all of us Femmes are submissive and meek. I don't let anybody dominate me regardless of race, gender or sexual identity. I simply don't get down like that. And I showed it to her. I could tell Isabel wasn't as tough as she pretended to be. I saw right through Isabel's Butch Chick swagger and saw the insecure and vulnerable woman inside. And I most definitely took advantage of her weakness. Slowly but surely, I wore her down mentally and sexually. It was absolutely fascinating to get her worked up like this. I am good at what I do. The secret of my success in this life is that I'm good at getting inside people's heads. Doesn't matter what the occasion.

I took Isabel to my off-campus apartment and showed her a good time. I swore to her that everything we did would stay between us. She was happy to hear that. She told me that she always fantasized about getting dominated by another woman but could never bring herself to do it. I kissed her tenderly and undressed her. Then we got busy. I laid her naked body on the bed and kissed her all over. I gently licked the areolas of her breasts. Isabel moaned in pleasure as I sucked her tits. Butch chicks can and do moan. What a surprise! When I spread her legs, Isabel hesitated. I told her I would take care of her. Butch women are funny about letting a Femme play with their pussy. As if some bitch's pussy is special because she wears guy clothes and acts all tough. Oh, please! However, I didn't say that to Isabel. Not when I was so close. I promised her I'd be gentle. She nodded, and I proceeded to work my magic on her.

Gently I licked and fingered her pussy. Isabel closed her eyes as I did my thing. I gently bit her clit while fucking her with my fingers. She licked her lips and stirred, clearly enjoying herself. I knew it. She liked it. I fucked her some more. And I replaced my fingers with a slim blue strap-on dildo. She was a bit hesitant, so I cajoled her into it. Soon I was thrusting my strap-on dildo into her cunt and making my big and tough Butch woman purr like a kitten! Oh, yeah. She liked it. I fucked a Butch woman and she liked it! I put her on all fours, pulled her hair and smacked her ass while fucking her. A lot of Butch women have big butts but consider their asses to be off-limits. I spanked Isabel's ass and slammed my dildo up her cunt. I owned that bitch. And she knew it.

Afterwards, Isabel was all smiles. She thanked me for a wonderful time. Unbeknownst to her, I had filmed the whole thing. Yep, a hidden camera lesbian lick down. Now you've seen everything. I edited the video and blurred my face before sending multiple copies to all the queer chicks who knew Isabel and I. My way of destroying this White-washed, biracial Butch chick's reputation. I made her my bitch now and I just wanted everyone to know. Man, I feel good! Us Femmes need to step up and remind the Butch sluts that they don't automatically run the show. I'm a gorgeous Black Femme, a Cheerleader and yes, I tame Butch women. Does that surprise you? It shouldn't. Who's next? Oh, Butch chicks! The line starts at the right.

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Black Cheerleaders Rule!



I'll admit that when I first met her, I didn't like her. Who am I talking about? Stephanie Mendes. The six-foot-tall, sexy young Black woman who tried out for the Blackstone University Varsity Cheerleading Squad and became its Captain. Why didn't I like her? It had to do with her almost supernatural beauty, her extremely bossy ways and her attitude. Now, don't get me wrong. We welcome racial and cultural diversity at Blackstone University. There are thirty young women on the Squad and eleven of us are from minority backgrounds. We have Asian, Hispanic and Middle-Eastern girls on the Cheerleading Squad. Stephanie became the first Black Cheerleader at the school. An instant celebrity and darling of the media. I saw her as my rival. I really didn't intend to fall in love with her.

My name is Amber O'Shea. A five-foot-nine, lean and athletic, blonde-haired and green-eyed young woman of Irish descent living in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. I attend the most diverse school in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Blackstone University. It has eleven thousand students and forty one percent of them are of African-American, Middle-Eastern, Asian, Hispanic or Native American descent. The school's tenth President, Dr. Rosa Angels, is a Black woman. She graduated from the Blackstone University MBA program in 1989. Twenty one years later, she's the school's first female President and its first African-American President as well.

A lot of people think I'm some chick from a sheltered life because of my background. I can't stand that. Seriously. Get to know me before you judge me. Before attending Blackstone University, I was a student at Saint William Academy, a private Catholic school. I attended that school on an academic scholarship. You see, my parents are dirt-poor. I worked hard to get where I am, that's all. I'm not one of those snobby White chicks you hear about. I publicly dated a tall, handsome young Black man named Trevor James Whitaker. T.J. to his friends. He now plays football for Boston College, Blackstone University's archrivals. I loved Trevor. And the fact that he dumped me for a Black chick named Josephine right before the Senior Class Prom didn't make me hate his guts. It just made me swear off men altogether.

I've always hung out with people based on mutual interests and personality rather than race or religion. My ******, Anthony O'Shea died when I was real young. And my ******, Elisabeth O'Shea married a Japanese businessman named Edwin Yamamoto. That's right, my ********** is Japanese. My ****** bore him a ***, my half-brother Josiah Yamamoto. I love my brother and my **********. These days, Josiah Yamamoto is the Senior Class President at Saint William Academy. And I support him in everything he does because he's family. Yeah, I come from a working-class multicultural family. You would never guess that by looking at me. I'm not a WASP. I'm a down to earth kind of Boston chick.

When I enrolled at Blackstone University, I wanted to join the women's basketball team. Most of the girls on the team were either Black or Hispanic, with an Asian chick here and there. I can play basketball pretty well. In fact, I met my ex-boyfriend while playing basketball with some male friends at the YMCA. However, since I'm short and not particularly fast, I didn't fare too well against these tall and rough-and-tumble chicks. I wanted to play a sport but what were my options? Blackstone University fields men's and women's basketball, men's baseball, women's softball, men's and women's soccer, men's and women's cross country, men's and women's swimming, men's and women's volleyball, men's and women's Ice Hockey, men's Football and women's Equestrian. Basketball is the only sport I know how to play. I tried out for the women's swim team but failed miserably. I'm not a good swimmer. Not all White chicks are swimmers. Get it through your head.

My last option for an athletically challenging extracurricular activity was the varsity cheerleading squad. I tried out and made it. The cheer captain was this mean-spirited Irish redhead named Monica O'Bannon. I couldn't stand that bitch, and neither could most of her 'followers'. She put me through hell simply for being the new gal on the block. I resisted the urge to punch her lights out. When I heard that she got in a car accident and couldn't cheer for the rest of the sea***, I was extremely happy. I wanted to become the cheerleading team captain. And now I had my shot. Or so I thought.

Unfortunately, this tall and extremely gorgeous young Black woman came along and blew my dream out of the sky. Stephanie Mendes came from Brockton Community High School, where Black and Hispanic cheerleaders are quite common. Brockton is a city not far from Metropolitan Boston where people of African-American, Asian and Hispanic descent outnumber Whites. Their schools are really diverse. I hang out t Brockton's Westgate Mall sometime. It's pretty cool. Stephanie was a Brockton gal through and true. And she had a lot of experience in all things related to cheerleading.

When Stephanie joined the varsity cheerleading team, the national media came and everyone was rooting for her. The first Black woman to join the Blackstone University varsity cheerleading squad. CNN had the nerve to call us a lily-White squad even though we had Asian, Hispanic and even Pakistani cheerleaders on the team. Wow. The Black Entertainment Television ( BET) news crew took many pictures of Stephanie Mendes and ignored the rest of us. I don't have a problem with a sexy young Black woman succeeding. I really don't. However, I didn't feel she deserved all the attention she got. Nobody made a fuss when I joined the team. Of course, blonde-haired White chicks are common on cheerleading squads. We're nothing unusual or special in the eyes of the media. However, when a hot woman from a minority background joins a cheerleading squad, it's front page news. I just love this, don't you?

To say that Stephanie and I didn't like each other would have been an understatement. She called me an uppity White bitch to my face once and I resisted the urge to take a swing at her. Why do people keep making assumptions about me? I'm not rich. I'm not famous. I'm not perfect. I don't hang around with only White folks. I have friends of all races. In my lifetime, I've dated Black guys and Hispanic guys, not just White guys. I attend a mostly Black Church, the Good Life Seventh-Day Adventist Church of South Boston. I live in a middle-class neighbourhood where people of African-American, Hispanic and Asian descent outnumber Caucasians. Oh, and my ********** and half-brother are both Japanese! Who are you calling an uppity White bitch?

At school, I struggled in my classes. Acing my classes at Saint William Academy was easy. Blackstone University was a tough school. And if my GPA fell below a 3.0 I would lose my academic scholarship. So I went to the Student Center to get tutored. Guess who was the tutor? My tutor was none other than my archrival Stephanie Mendes. She came in wearing a bright red T-shirt and blue jeans. Her long black hair was pulled in a bun and she looked really beautiful. So beautiful that she gave me pause. I was stunned. Stephanie offered me a handshake with a bright smile as if we were best friends. I gave her a fake grin. I didn't want to be tutored by her. However, unless I wanted to flunk out of school, I needed her help.

Stephanie had me right where she wanted me, and we both knew it. I needed help with my Advanced Algebra homework, along with Sociology, Psychology and Physics. Stephanie was proficient in all of these subjects. Oh, great. She's not only tall and gorgeous, she's also a genius. During that first tutoring session, she simply amazed me. What is it about all these gorgeous Black girls I see in Boston-area colleges and universities? They're all smart, strong and sexy. They're like Super Women! After that first tutoring session, I found myself revising my opinion of Stephanie.

When I went home that night, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I did my homework on her. Stephanie was the ******** of Ernest Gomes, a Brockton city councilman of Cape Verdean origin. Her ****** Elsie Joseph was of Haitian descent and taught mathematics at Brockton Community High School. She was famous not only for being the first Black cheerleading captain at her old high school but also its most recent Prom Queen. Wow. Oh, and she was also on the men's wrestling team at her high school. She took third place at the state wrestling championships in her weight class. Wow. All that and the looks of a supermodel and the brains of a genius. Is there anything she can't do?

As I lay on my bed, my thoughts drifted to my ex-boyfriend. My sexy Chocolate stud. How I missed him. Yet it was another sexy brown body my mind kept picturing. I found myself fantasizing about Stephanie. Her cute smile. Her lovely breasts. That athletic yet curvy body. Those strong legs. And oh my God, that big and round yet firm-looking butt. My own thoughts surprised me. What the heck? What is wrong with me? I am not gay or bisexual, I swear. I don't think of other girls like that. I went to *****. And dreamt of Stephanie. Damn.

The next day, we had cheerleading practice and things were more awkward than usual. I kept looking at her, and trying not to picture her naked...I failed miserably. When we formed a pyramid in preparation for next Friday's football game against the University of Maine, I got so distracted by Stephanie's ass that I tripped. The whole pyramid came down. And the whole squad blamed me. I did something I had never done before. I took off running. I could feel everyone staring at me. I didn't care. I had to get away.

I got to my dorm, and went straight to bed. I must have been asleep when I heard two knocks on the door. I went to see who it was, thinking it was my roommate Sally Chang, this chubby Asian chick from Plymouth. It wasn't Sally. The person at the door was none other than Stephanie Mendes. A.K.A. the last person on the planet I wanted to see. She was wearing a tank top and booty shorts. And she looked...delicious. Oh, man. Did I just think she looked delicious? What is wrong with me? Stephanie's voice jolted me back to reality. She asked me if she could come in. I nodded.

We sat down and she grilled me. First she wanted to know why I sucked more than usual at cheerleading practice. Second, she wanted to know why I skipped our tutoring session at the Student Center. I hesitated. Should I tell her? Definitely not. She would think that I'm weird. I couldn't believe this. I was having sexual feelings for another woman, my archrival. Why her? Stephanie looked at me with surprising empathy in her big brown eyes. She told me she didn't particularly like me but thought I was an okay person. She wanted to know what could have rattled me this much.

That's the closest she's come to complimenting me. Wow. I smiled and told her I thought she was an amazing person. Stephanie's eyes narrowed and she tensed. In a cold voice, she told me I didn't have to fake being nice to her. She got up and headed for the door. I don't know what came over me but I darted after her. I grabbed her hand, wanting to apologize. She didn't like that. She got in my face, looking quite irate. That's when I did something that surprised us both. I kissed her. Stephanie froze. But she didn't resist. When our lips parted, her eyes widened and she shoved me away. I got right back in her face. And this time, she didn't resist. She kissed me.

Somehow, we ended up on the carpeted floor of my apartment. Kissing and touching affectionately. I got on top of Stephanie, desperately wanting her. Stephanie looked at me with panic in her eyes and told me she wasn't gay or bisexual. I told her I wasn't gay or bisexual either. I simply wanted her. I kissed her again. We wrestled playfully and she got on top of me. Then we began undressing each other. Soon we were both naked. I was amazed at Stephanie's gorgeous, brown-skinned and absolutely magnificent body. She looked like an African Goddess from the old days come to life. I was just a skinny White tomboy who happened to be naked.

Stephanie appeared to like what she saw when she looked at me. I kissed her tenderly, and began licking her breasts. I had never done this to another woman before but it felt right. Stephanie guided me as I licked a path from her breasts to her belly. Finally, I made my way to her pelvic area. I inhaled the scent of her pussy. It was wondrous, and hot. Though I was clearly a novice, I fastened my lips to Stephanie's pussy and began licking away. She must have liked what I was doing for she grabbed my neck and urged me to go down on her. I licked and fingered her pussy. And it didn't feel weird or wrong to me. It felt absolutely right. Stephanie's screams of passion filled the dorm.

Afterwards, things got really awkward. Stephanie clearly enjoyed what we did but she told me repeatedly that she wasn't gay or bisexual. She also threatened to kick my ass if I told anyone. Wow. She really didn't have to say that. Who am I going to tell? I was really confused after my first time having sex with another woman. It was amazing, sensual and erotic yet confusing. It did a lot for me. More than my late-night romps with my ex-boyfriend. And I knew I wanted more. And I wanted Stephanie. She avoided me like the plague on campus. In our dealings during cheerleading practice and tutoring, she was polite but distant. Yet I could see she still wanted me. I could see it clearly in her eyes.

Three nights after our first romp, she came back to my dorm. Yeah, Stephanie wanted more. The sexy Black Goddess wanted some of my White Chocolate. And I was more than happy to share. This time, she went down on me. Spread my legs and went straight for the pussy. And she absolutely rocked my world. We licked and fingered each other all night. I loved the feel of Stephanie's lips on mine as she fingered my pussy. It was a great night. Afterwards, she didn't hit the panic button but told me she liked me. I told her I liked her too. And she told me she wanted to continue our fun and games as long as I was discreet. What do you think I said?

Stephanie and I continued to have our fun on the sly. Publicly, she only dated men. She was going out with this tall, good-looking young Black man named Erick Dwayne. Captain of the Blackstone University men's varsity football team. Yeah, they seem like the perfect couple. But I'm the only one who can give Stephanie what she needs. That's why she keeps coming back to me night after night. I went shopping for a few items to spice things up for our 'sessions'. Like a strap-on dildo, a bunch of vibrators, and lots of lubricant. Hey, I'm optimistic, alright?

The following night, I treated Stephanie to some wild fun. She liked the way I think. I licked her pussy and fingered her before fucking her with my vibrator. When I put on the strap-on dildo, she was a bit nervous but I told her I'd be gentle. And I was. I gently penetrated her pussy with the strap-on dildo and fucked her gently. After a while, her nervousness vanished. My sexy Black Goddess relaxed and enjoyed. We got into even more kinky stuff together. Stephanie liked her big booty played with. I loved licking her big brown butt and spanking it. I even slid a slim dildo up her big ass while licking her pussy and she loved it. I gently fucked her ass with my pink dildo, and she squealed in delight.

Stephanie was learning a lot of things with me. Like how to lick my pussy properly. I also showed her the proper way to fuck another woman with a strap-on and volunteered my own cunt and ass for the experiment. Wearing my strap-on dildo, Stephanie fucked me. My sexy Black Goddess looked absolutely amazing while fucking me. She was so tall and gorgeous. I lay on my back, legs in the air as she thrust the dildo deep into my cunt. At the same time she fingered my asshole. After a while, she replaced her fingers with a slim blue dildo and fucked my ass with it. I'm really into anal play now. Both giving and receiving. And Stephanie enjoys doing both with me.

We're exploring eroticism and kink together. I am really into spanking now. I love to bend Stephanie over my knee and give her big brown butt a good spanking. And she loves getting her big butt spanked. Stephanie loves to suck my strap-on dildo before I fuck her pussy and ass with it. Sometimes when I come to my dorm, I find her naked waiting for me. She loves to sit on my lap as we make out before fucking passionately. I love making love to her. She sometimes feels like spanking me and although I'm not really into it, I happily bend over and take it because I want to make her happy. She means that much to me.

We're spending more time together outside the bedroom now. Stephanie and I went dancing at this queer-friendly nightclub in Rhode Island, far away from the prying eyes of our classmates and friends. I care about her and she cares about me. However, we come from different worlds. I'm a working-class Irish chick who's discovering her bisexuality and coming to terms with her attraction to Black women. Stephanie is a middle-class African-American gal from a deeply religious background who isn't quite ready to embrace her newfound sexual identity. Stephanie can't say the words gay or bisexual without feeling uncomfortable. She isn't ready to come out. I'm not ready to come out of the closet either. However, I've at least admitted to myself that I am bisexual. Stephanie can't do that yet. I hope she'll eventually come around someday. I'm in love with her. I want to be with my Black Goddess for the rest of my days.

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A Very Special Guy




It had been a good night. Three guys at three fifty a piece plus tips made a nice take home, even discounting the forty percent I had to pay the cabbies. The Place Pigalle must have been hopping. The cabbies called it "Pig Alley." I'd spent my time picking up Johns there for the better part of a year, but I could afford a nice place now, an apartment just off the Venetian causeway.

It was a lot safer working out of an apartment than picking up guys in bars. Too many cops in bars. Two cabbies checked out the Johns for me as they left Place Pigalle, horny from watching the strippers -- who left nothing to the imagination. Ray was the best but Sonny got me lots of business too. Usually I went to the John's hotel room. Sometimes the cabbie brought them to my place.

I was twenty-three and I'd been a hooker for a year and a half -- since that worthless bastard I'd been living with decided he didn't want to marry me. I still get chills up my spine every time I remember how close I came to making that big mistake. I'd been working as a cocktail waitress at the Deauville and he took what little I earned to buy beer. When he left me, I figured to hell with men -- three losers in a row -- that was enough! I was gonna rent my pussy by the hour. It paid well. A lot of guys with money came to the conventions at Miami Beach and most of them got horny away from the dull little wife.

It was a good living, but some nights I couldn't avoid thinking about where I was going with my life, even when it got me all depressed and teary eyed. I'd picked up a lot of college credits at Broward College and I was just about a year away from a degree. I'd be the first one in my family with a college degree.

I had enough in the bank and my safe box to support me for over a year while I finished college, but ****! The job I'd qualify for with that degree didn't pay a third of what I could make as a hooker! On the other hand, the older my pussy got the less the Johns were gonna pay to fuck it. They liked 'em young! Every time I got to this point in planning my life, I started to think about how all alone I was, and then I always ended up having another *****, and going to bed, crying, lonely, no way out!

I woke up Thursday mid-morning with a smile. Thursday was my day off. I put on my best sporty outfit, an expensive one, and headed for South Beach. A little shopping -- lunch at a nice place -- then afternoon in the shade next to the beach, engaging in my favorite sport - people watching. I would dine early and alone at an expensive place -- it was my Thursday ritual. I morphed from cheap hooker to rich tourist -- clothes, make-up, and all -- and tried to forget what I was.

By late afternoon I was relaxed and happy, trying to decide which of my favorite restaurants to spoil myself in. There was a real good-looking guy who had sat at a table near me and glanced at me from time to time and finally he picked up his ***** and came over to my table.

"Would you like some company?" He asked in a very nice way.

I was not working tonight -- no way was I gonna proposition this guy! And the last thing I needed was some horny bastard trying to get a free piece of ass. But I didn't want to spoil my afternoon by being rude and he had such a nice smile. I usually didn't do this but maybe some company would be fun for a change. Lonely was a bad way to be.

"Sure. Pull up a chair. I'm a people watcher. What about you?"

"I enjoy trying to guess what they do when they're back home," he said. "My name is Gordon Ritch."

"Hi! I'm Geri Norman. Are you a tourist?"

He joined me at the table and extended his left hand. I shook it and noticed no wedding band but that meant nothing.

"Not really. I do taxes and it takes a lot of updating the way the laws and regs keep changing. If I'm gonna pay some guy to lecture me I'd rather be in Miami than Cleveland. And you?"

What does a hooker do? She tells lies to guys who pay to be lied to. "I'm a cocktail waitress working my way through Broward College."

"What's your major?" He asked with a pleasant smile.

I looked more closely. He was good looking and had that really great smile. Then I warned myself --"Get control of yourself you stupid bitch. He just wants to fuck you. Like every other bastard out there."

"I'm a business major -- just thirty credit hours away from my BA."

He asked about my courses. I told the truth. He asked about my job. I lied. He asked about my family. I told the truth. He was twenty-seven and a partner in a firm in Knoxville. He was fun to talk to, and before I figured out what was happening we were on our way to a nice little Italian place that was a favorite of mine. I wasn't horny but I needed to be with a man -- there's an important difference. Sometimes you just need a man. But, I kept telling myself that the only thing he wanted was a free piece of ass.

Then, after dinner, he offered to take me home. I had made an all-men-are-bastards bet with myself. So I told another lie, figuring my car would be okay in the parking garage overnight, and said I would be very grateful for a ride. He drove me to my place in his rental car, me pointing directions all the way. He pulled up at my place with the headlights aimed at the apartment house entrance, left the motor running, and came around and opened the door for me.

"Thank you very much for your company," he said. "I enjoyed talking to you a lot."

He led me nearly to my door. He paused and waited till I got my key out and opened it. Then he smiled and waved a friendly good night. I went in and closed the door. Then I stopped and stood frozen in the hall. ****! He didn't try to screw me! I lost my bet. I went to bed thinking that maybe Gordon was just about the nicest guy that I had ever met.

It was almost two months later that my phone rang. Hooker's hearts don't skip beats. But mine did exactly that when I heard his voice. He was back in town and wanted to have dinner. I called Ray and told him I was taking the night off and the next as well. I can't remember how long it had been since I took so much trouble trying to look good. Trying to get rid of that cheap look that the Johns liked. The same cheap look that all the guys I had ever dated liked. I wanted to look like a really nice girl for Gordon.

Hookers don't get gaga when some guy knocks on their door, but that was the way I was when he picked me up. I had an absolutely wonderful evening -- dinner and dancing in the moonlight and soft music. On the way home my mind started to race. What do "normal" people do on the second date? Do they fuck? What should I do if he wants to come in? Do I invite him in if he doesn't ask? What the fuck should I do?

My worry was for nothing. Same drill as before. Motor running, lights aimed at the door, waved good night when I opened the door. I was hooked! This guy was gonna get all the user friendly pussy he could handle. Then I reminded myself that this guy wasn't like the rest of those horny bastards I was with night after night. This was a very special guy.

We had dinner the next night and he was as wonderful as before and when we got home it was the same drill -- except -- except -- thank the good Lord! He kissed me. It was a real kiss -- on my lips -- one hand on each shoulder and not pulling me close -- but it was a real kiss and it felt good. Oh so very good! It was like a dream!

I lay in bed thinking about him. That afternoon he had actually spent time helping me with my accounting homework. I had never dated a guy who'd been to college. He had smiled. I kept seeing his smile. It was obvious what was happening. I was falling in love. I thought about making love to him. ****! That's stupid! Hookers sell pussy or trade it to pimps for business -- they don't just give it away like horny high school girls. But that's what I wanted to do. I thought about being in bed with him.

It was a painful two months until he came down again, but during that time we had exchanged phone calls every week. I quit work for a week this time and Ray was real upset. He'd come by to pick up his 40%. Tonight that amounted to well over a thousand bucks. Sounds like a lot, but he checked the John's IDs and he could spot a cop a mile away.

"You're losing a lot of money, Geri," Ray said. "I've seen this before. All hookers are suckers for guys that pretend to be in love with them. You end up losing a lot of bucks and the bum gets a lot of free pussy. The gals always lose in the end."

"How do you know it's a guy?" I demanded.

He laughed. "Hey honey -- I been pimping for twenty plus years! I seen it all. You got a guy!"

Ray wasn't stupid. Was my guy really special? Or was he just another guy exploiting women, like Ray thought? He hadn't been trying to fuck me. I was in love with him. But I'd been fooled by three bastards before. I didn't seem to learn about men. And I hadn't even begun to think about the biggest question of all -- I'd been fucking and blowing up to fifty guys a month for almost two years. What would Gordon think about that if he found out?

I needed to talk to Ray. He was the only friend I had. "You're right, Ray. I gotta guy. Can you come in for a minute? Sit down. Let me get you a *****."

Ray came in, smiling. "I seen a lot of gals go through this," he said. "They think they're in love. Usually with a John. Is your guy a John?"

"No. Just a guy I met."

"You're lucky. Does he know you're a hooker?"

"No."

"You're double lucky."

"You fuckin him?"

"No."

"You got a lot going for you Geri. You're ready to quit! Right?"

"Yeah. I want to quit. Help me."

Ray was married. Same gal for twenty years. I fucked him sometimes -- he was a great pimp but he was also a good friend -- my only really close friend. He loved his wife. He'd been in the business a long time and he knew a lot. I always listened to him carefully.

"If you're serious, here's what you do. Get a new apartment with a new phone. Change your cell too. Nobody knows you except by your first name and your phone number. Most of the time you used your working name. You'll just disappear in a new apartment with new phones. Don't turn any tricks after you move. Stay clean. Don't go to any of the old places. No contact with any people in the business, even the girls. Change your looks. Tone yourself down a notch. You can live off your bank account, but you need to get a job. I'll tell everybody you took your stash and went back to your folks in Orlando."

"Thank you Ray. That's good advice. I'm gonna do it!"

Ray and I talked for a while. I was grateful. People in the business would believe him. Some girls did get away sometimes and some even got a decent life. Maybe I could too. He was about to leave.

"You're a great friend, Ray. Thanks a lot. Would you like a good-bye piece of ass? You've been such a good friend for a long time."

"No thank you, honey. Not tonight. I'm headed home."

"Not even a blowjob? I mean ... I wanna say thank you for everything you've done for me." Ray always enjoyed my blowjobs.

"Well, ... " he said, hesitating.

I was on my knees in a flash working on his zipper and when that fat uncircumcised cock came out it was already getting hard. I cradled his big hairy balls in my hand and ran the tip of my tongue under his thick foreskin. He groaned when my tongue touched the tender, moist head of his dick. Then I skinned it back and got down to serious work with my lips and tongue. I took him deep and buried my face in his thick, curly pubic hair. My nostrils were filled with that familiar aroma of sweaty male genitals.

As I worked I remembered when I first started hooking. Like all the other girls, I sucked off half the cabbies in Miami trying to get my name and number out there for business. This would be my last professional job and it was somehow appropriate that it was a cabbie. With some cabbies we tried to lay 'em off rather than pay 'em off, so we could keep their forty percent, but Ray had been too experienced for that. After he became my friend and regular pimp I serviced him whenever he needed it and my blowjobs were his favorite thing.

"Oh Jesus - Geri that's good," Ray said, groaning.

It took only a few minutes. Ray was always fast. When I felt his heavy balls lift up out of my hand, I knew what was going to happen next. He groaned and grabbed my head in both hands, shoving his cock deep into my throat, his fingers entangled in my long blond hair. His hips pumped uncontrollably as he ejaculated a massive load of thick, creamy semen down my throat. I swallowed it rapidly. I was too much of a professional to gag -- I'd done this hundreds of times.

I held his cock in my mouth, as it gradually got soft. I swallowed the last of his musky tasting cum and looked up at him -- his head bent back in the chair, his face relaxed and satisfied. Then I milked down his rapidly softening cock and got a big drop of sticky white cum on the head of his dick. It looked just like a beautiful pearl. I licked it off and smiled up at him, as I pulled his thick foreskin back down over the head of his cock.

"Jesus, Geri, your tongue is just like electricity. You give the best blowjobs I ever had. I love my wife but nobody sucks cock like you do. Worth every bit of the three hundred bucks the Johns pay."

"Thank you Ray. But that's your last one for a while, and mine too; unless it turns out I'm wrong about Gordon. Wish me luck."

"Good luck baby. I hope you make it. Remember, most gals are back on the street in a few months. But I've seen some make it. Just hang in there. The first few months are the hardest. Watch your money. Maybe you'll get lucky."

I followed Ray's advice. I explained to Gordon that my new apartment was in a better location. I got a job in the lounge at the Deauville for peanuts, turned down every guy who propositioned me, and signed up for an extra six credit hours at college. I had the bucks in the bank to live the way I wanted, but I was more careful with my money now.

It happened during his fifth trip. Gordon had been coming in for a ***** after he took me out and we had kissed and loved a bit sitting on the couch. He didn't rush me or press me. But then one night it just happened. He carried me to bed. That had never happened to me before - ever in my life. He was so gentle and loving. I let him lead. He obviously had some experience. He brought me to orgasm twice. I never came with the Johns. He stayed all night. He was in my sandbox now. I was a pro and he was gonna get anything he wanted. Anytime he wanted it.

After that, Gordon came down regularly just to see me and when spring break came around he invited me up to Knoxville for a visit to meet his partners and their wives. Before he went back that time he handed me his partnership business card as I dropped him off at the airport. I tucked the card away in my purse and thought nothing of it till I changed purses that night. When I looked at his card I got a sudden cramp in my stomach. The name of the senior partner was familiar -- too damn familiar. I ran to get my card file.

I always kept a monthly record for the cabbies of the tricks I turned and what they paid (not the tip of course). Ray and Sonny got forty percent of the up front payment. But when a guy called and I turned him extra, I kept a separate record -- no split for the cabbie. If a guy looked like he might call when he came back in town again, I listed him separately. I had a card file with all the details -- dates, names, what they wanted, what they paid, and if they gave me a business card it was attached to my three by five file card.

I used abbreviations of course: F was for "French" meaning a blowjob; B was for "ball" meaning I fucked 'em, and so on. When a guy called again I could check out what he wanted and what he was willing to pay -- even what he liked to *****.

Gordon's senior partner had a familiar name. He was in my file! A card just like the one Gordon gave me was stapled to my three by five card. There were three dates listed. Sonny had set up my first date with him and Walter had called me two more times. The first date said, "B - $400", the second said, "F & B $700" and the third said, "all night -- came three times - $1100." He didn't know me as "Geri" -- I had used my working name "Donna" but he knew my old phone number.

So now what? I was going to Knoxville in a week to meet Gordon's friends. I was gonna meet Walter. I sat down and started thinking. When I quit hookin I had cut my hair shorter and gone back to my natural brunet-- the Johns liked long flowing blond hair for some reason. I had started going out in the sun a lot and had a good tan -- Johns liked their women with nice white skin. I didn't dress like a hooker any more. All of this meant that I looked a lot different. But Walter had seen me up close -- three times - talked to me -- slept with me - kissed me -- fucked me -- watched me suck his cock - would he remember me?

Gordon picked me up at the airport and took me to a hotel he had booked for me in Maryville, near his place. It was very exciting to see him again and we made love that afternoon. He had taken the day off. That night there was a party at his club and all the partners and their wives would be there including Walter and his wife. I was sick to my stomach when we walked into the club.

I recognized Walter right away as Gordon went through the introductions. I remembered him as an arrogant bastard. When I saw his wife and heard the way she talked I could see, at once, why Walter needed rent-a-pussy. She was a real bitch. Walter checked me out and it was apparent that he was the play-around type of guy. I wondered if any of the others saw in him what I saw. I knew a lot about guys -- at least the bad ones (I had learned a lot from the first three bastards that took me for a ride). Walter gave no clue that he had recognized me.

Dinner went well and afterward we did some dancing. Walter asked me to dance. "Here it comes," I said to myself. If he's recognized me he would tell me now. What the hell should I do? I'd fuck him, of course, if I had to. To keep Gordon I'd do just about anything. But that probably wouldn't work because once I started fucking him his demands would never stop. He might even use me for a while and then tell Gordon about me just for laughs. He held me close but didn't act as if he had connected this clean-cut girl-next-door with the slutty "Donna" who'd knocked on his hotel door in Miami Beach.

Then his hand crept down to my ass. The bastard! Meets me for the first time and grabs my ass! I reached back and moved his hand up to my waist. He didn't try again. But, suddenly I realized that this was good news. He was just checking me out. Would the junior partner's gal be extra friendly to the senior partner? He didn't recognize me! ****! I had dodged a bullet!

We got back to the table and for me the party got a lot better.

The next day, Gordon proposed -- ring and all. I was deliriously happy. It was just like a dream. In two months I would graduate and we could be married. This was not supposed to happen to girls like me. But it did. I was going to live again -- live in the world of normal people -- no hookers, no pimps, no Johns.

I felt guilty about the secret I had to keep from my very special guy -- but how do you tell the guy you love that in the past two years you'd fucked hundreds of guys -- maybe even a thousand! Jesus! I'd never thought about it that way before, but when I did the math, it just leaped out at me, and when I remembered my bank account and safety box I knew it was real. I'd fucked and sucked a hell of a lot of guys!

I loved Gordon. I wanted to marry him. What the hell else could I do except keep my mouth shut?

I was back in Miami Beach taking classes again after spring break, proudly wearing the engagement ring Gordon had given me, and wishing the time would go faster till my graduation. My very special guy would be at my graduation and we would go up to Orlando, where my folks lived and get married.

I had gotten out of "the business" and led a straight life. I had fallen in love with a very special guy. I was deliriously happy in my dream. Then a knock on my door brought me back into the real world. I opened the door and my dream collapsed. There stood a leering Walter, grinning in triumph.

"Hello Donna," he said. "It's good to see you again."

"How did you ... I mean ... " I almost fainted.

"When I met you at the party last week, something about you reminded me of Donna. I'm not very sure what it was but it was something. So I called Donna and her phone had been disconnected. I have a few contacts here and there and I called one of them, and guess what? Donna's phone had been registered to a Geri Norman -- who got a new phone and new address. So, I thought I'd pay you a visit."

I just stood there speechless, feeling my wonderful new world crashing down around me. My past was back to haunt me.

"Aren't you going to ask me in and offer me a *****? The sun is under some yardarm somewhere."

I needed a strong ***** myself. I went to the kitchen and returned with two glasses of Glenlivet on the rocks. He sat down and I sat across the room.

Then he held his glass up in a toast. "Here's to the renewal of a really great relationship. Only this time I'm not gonna have to pay for the pussy."

I sat there -- still speechless. Then I drained my glass and went back into the kitchen and poured myself another *****. I sat down again, helpless, wondering what he was going to say.

"Does Gordon know you were a hooker?"

"He doesn't know," I said.

Walter chuckled. "I figured he didn't know. He's a really straight guy. You think I should tell him I used your services when your name was Donna?"

My stomach hurt too bad to cry. I just dropped my head and stared at my lap.

"What do you think Gordon would do if he knew?"

I didn't say anything. I just looked at my lap. I knew what Gordon would do. It would break his heart. I would be just a bad dream he would try to forget.

"Don't you have anything to say?" He was laughing at me now. He had me.

"Please don't tell him," I said softly. I didn't expect it would do any good. Nothing was going to do any good.

"Well Donna -- or Geri -- I guess I ought to call you Geri now. Here's the deal. I'm not gonna tell him yet. I'm gonna have some fun with you first, and then I'll decide whether to tell him or not. Depends on how much fun you can show me. I'll be here for several days and you're gonna treat me nice just like when you were working -- only I'm not gonna pay for it. You understand?"

I understood all right. He was going to fuck me for a while. Then maybe he'd tell Gordon or maybe he'd let us get married and fuck me after I moved to Knoxville. His wife was a bitch -- he obviously got no sex from her. That's why he was hiring hookers when he met me last year in Miami.

"Do you understand?" Walter repeated, louder this time.

I nodded my head.

"I actually have some business down here, so I do have some people to see. But I have time enough to get laid this afternoon. I'm in the mood for a quick piece of ass. So get naked! Strip down baby, and let me see that beautiful body again."

I sat there, helpless. I couldn't move. Walter looked at me and waited a full minute, silently. Then he pulled out his cell and pressed a speed dial. I could hear someone answer at the other end.

"Gordon? This is Walter. You'll never guess where I am."

I jumped to my feet and started to take off my clothes as fast as I could.

"Well, I'm in Ft. Lauderdale and I'm finally gonna take care of that client who's been bugging you for a month. It won't be a problem."

I was stripping fast and stepped out of my panties last.

"Okay. ... Yeah. ... I'll do that to. See you later."

I stood naked in the center of the room, showing him what he wanted to see. He looked me up and down, slowly. Then he grinned.

"Oh that looks nice! Just like I remember it. Great tits. And especially that beaver. I like a real hairy beaver."

I just stood there, letting him look at me. I didn't know what to do or what to say.

"Well, are you gonna invite me to fuck? Or do I have to call Gordon again?" He took his cell off his belt.

I nodded, helplessly, headed for the bedroom, and motioned him to follow. I was beaten. There was nothing else to do. Walter followed undressing as he walked. I threw back the covers and laid down on the bed. Walter stripped down naked and his cock was hard and sticking straight out. He lay down beside me on his back. Then he put his hand on the back of my head and pulled me over to suck his cock, holding my head in both his hands and humping up deep into my mouth. I felt the head of his dick hit the back of my throat, but I didn't gag.

I worked on him until he was ready to fuck me. Then I laid back and spread my legs wide for him. Jesus! I thought suddenly. My pussy is dry -- this is gonna hurt. I reached over to the bedside table and opened the drawer to get some lubricant. Walter figured out what I was doing.

"Oh no Baby -- no juice -- I wanna see your pretty face when you take it."

He moved between my legs, his hands under my knees lifting my legs high into the air. Then, guiding his cock with his hand, he ****** himself into me roughly. It hurt like hell and I cried out. Walter laughed -- it was an ugly laugh. Then he started pounding me hard. Every thrust hurt until my pussy finally started to get wet.

I had had some bad fucks in the past but this was the worst ever. I was gonna remember this fuck for a long time. He came really fast and rolled off of me. I just lay there on my back, legs spread, while he got dressed. I could feel his cum dripping out of my pussy and running down to my asshole and dripping off on the sheet.

"I'm gonna be busy tonight with a client, but I'll see you again tomorrow night. You be ready to show me a good time. If you're no fun, then I might just as well tell Gordon right away and get it over with. Remember bitch, the only thing that's keeping me quiet is your pussy. So have it ready. And smile next time. I don't like the look you have on your face right now. I don't want to see it ever again. You understand?"

I heard the door close. He was gone. I just lay there. There was not a damn thing I could do! So I cried. I had no one to help me. Not a friend in the world who knew what I was going through -- no one ... except ... except -- Ray! Ray was the cabbie who had been my pimp and who helped me get out of the business.

I put on a robe and called Ray. He could tell how bad off I was and he came right over. I was crying when he arrived and the whole story just spilled out of me as I cried. How happy I'd been with Gordon and then about Walter being in my card file and how Walter had figured out who I was. Ray listened to the whole thing patiently.

He thought for a minute, and then said, "Tell me about his wife."

"She's a real bitch. Not bad looking but she's mean. He's not screwing her. I'm sure of that. She's the reason he needs rent-a-pussy."

Ray thought some more. Then he smiled. "You remember Gloria? Redhead. Big tits."

I remembered her. I nodded.

"Well," Ray said, "Gloria has decided to get out of the business. She's been saving up. Got a nice stash. Wants me to help her. Gloria can help you and you can help her."

"I don't understand," I said. I was puzzled but Ray looked like he was on to something.

Ray smiled. "Okay. The bastard's coming back tomorrow night. Right?"

I nodded.

"That gives us time." Ray looked around the room and then he got up and went into the bedroom. He opened the closet door and looked inside. Then he stood in front of the closet door and looked around the bedroom. Then he led me back into the living room and we sat down.

"How big is Walter and what kind of shape is he in?" Ray asked.

"About two inches shorter than you and he's in lousy shape. The only exercise he gets is hookers."

Ray nodded. "Okay. Here's what we do. First thing tomorrow you go out and get a cheap blond wig -- one that will stay on tight while you give a blowjob. I'm gonna call Gloria. I know she'll help. Then I'm gonna get my video camera and drill a small hole in the closet door so I can get video of your bedroom."

"You and Gloria are gonna be Walter's entertainment tomorrow night: A blond to give him a blowjob, and a redhead with big tits to fuck his brains out. You'll be on your knees naked with your back to the camera -- not even Gordon will recognize you. Gloria won't matter so much, but I'll try not to get any close ups of her face."

"What if he catches you?" I asked.

"He's not big enough to do anything about it. But he's not gonna catch me."

We went over the plan a few times and Ray called Gloria.

The next afternoon we checked out camera angles with Ray's help. Gloria and I worked on our routine. By seven that night, we were ready. With our clothes and make-up and my blond wig and her bright red hair, Gloria and I looked about as cheap as two hookers could get. We had our routines down pat.

When Walter walked through the door we greeted him with laughter and smiles and kisses. We were dressed in our see-through gowns and spike heels.

"You said you expected me to entertain you," I said, "so I brought in an old friend. A professional colleague -- so to speak."

Walter started to smile like he had just won the lottery. We led him into the bedroom and Gloria and I slipped out of the sexy gowns we were wearing and posed for Walter in spike heels, hose, and garter belts. My thick brunet beaver was in sharp contrast to my long blond wig and Gloria had a bright red beaver matching her hair. I don't know how she did it -- but some hairdresser had figured out a way to make her beaver bright red! Her tits were a lot bigger than mine and Walter began to play with them immediately and reached out to stroke her beaver.

Gloria helped Walter strip down and we were all laughing and kidding around like we were at a party. Gloria positioned Walter sitting on the bed, as we had planned, and I got on my knees in front of him and started to suck his cock. Gloria kissed him and let him play with her tits. As I sucked him off, I was thinking about watching this tomorrow night in the living room on my big TV with Walter and Ray. I actually started making slurping sounds hoping the video would pick it up on the sound track.

Walter didn't last long with all the stimulation he was getting from two girls. Most Johns never do. We were professionals and we knew our job. He pumped his load and I made more slurping sounds. I tried to make a big production out of swallowing down his cum. Then I stood up and moved out of camera range with only my back showing. Gloria rolled Walter onto his back on the bed and started to stimulate his cock again so she could fuck him. She was a pro and she got him up and in the saddle in no time.

It was quite an evening. We got Walter to come a third time but after that we couldn't get his dick hard. I think that embarrassed him, because he left early -- promising to return the next night.

Ray came out of the closet all smiles. "Great pictures girls! I got some really great pictures. I may have to edit something out here and there but not much. You gals got all your camera angles just about perfect. I'm heading home to get this thing edited and on to a couple of DVDs."

I got my blond wig off and Gloria and I, in our robes, sat and sipped Glenlivet in the living room. She had planned to stay all night because we didn't know how long Walter would last. It turned out he didn't last very long at all, so Gloria and I had a nice long talk.

"When are you quitting?" I asked.

"I've already quit. I'm not taking any more Johns and I'm looking for a new apartment now. I've got enough saved to live on, but Ray says get a job anyway."

"That's what he told me and it's good advice. What kind of job are you looking for?"

"You won't believe this, but I'm a secretary and a damn good one. I've kept up my computer skills and I know the ropes. It pays good if you get the right spot. I've got to tone down my hair of course. I'm really a redhead, you know -- just not this bright."

"What about your beaver? That's the reddest pussy I ever saw!"

Gloria laughed. "The Johns love it, but if I ever show it to a normal guy he'll freak out!"

We laughed loud together. I lifted my glass, "A toast to normal guys."

"You're gonna leave Miami? Where to?" I asked.

"No idea. But some normal place. That's where I'll find normal guys I guess."

I had an idea. I liked Gloria and wanted to help her. "Why don't you move in with me? You're changing your cell. You're not seeing any of the people in the business. I'm getting married after I graduate. Then I'm moving to Knoxville. You could keep this place. It's not very expensive and it's nice. Or if you want to, you're welcome to come to Knoxville. It's a normal town with normal guys. Of course, like most places, it's got its share of Walters. Gordon could help you find a job."

"Thanks for the apartment. I'll move my things at the end of the month. And I'll think about Knoxville. That might work out. You never know."

The next night, Walter arrived right on schedule and he was surprised when he saw Ray sitting in the living room. He looked around for Gloria and seemed disappointed when he did not see her.

"Walter," I said, "I'd like you to meet a good friend of mine. His name is Ray. He's a cameraman and he has a movie we think you will be very interested in. They didn't shake hands. Walter sat down and looked puzzled.

"Let me get you a *****. You're gonna need one." I got him a strong Glenlivet.

Ray pushed the buttons and the "movie" started to play. The opening scene was a naked Gloria helping Walter take off his clothes. He was reaching for her tits and trying to stroke her bright red beaver. You couldn't see Gloria's face but everything else showed up well. The scene then shifted to Walter sitting on the side of the bed with a long-haired blond sucking his cock. Walter's face was clear. All you saw of the blond was a rapidly moving head of hair. When he had his orgasm his face was in close-up and was a sight to behold. The slurping sounds came through well on the sound track I thought. Nice touch!

Then Walter was shown, in the missionary position, fucking an unrecognizable redhead, with an excellent sound track of his orgasm. This was followed by him fucking an equally unrecognizable long-haired blond. Ray made him look like a stud. Mercifully, for his self-respect, there were no shots of two beautiful gals playing with his limp dick, trying to get it hard again.

Walter sat speechless through the entire performance. He seemed to be in shock. Ray retrieved the DVD and put it into a plastic case. Then he showed two DVD cases to Walter.

"One is for your wife and the other is for her attorney," Ray said. "Now you understand Walter, it is not in your best interest to say anything to Gordon about Geri. If you do, your wife will end up with a large fraction of the estate you have worked so hard to accumulate over all these many years."

Ray continued, "Geri tells me that your wife is a real bitch. She thinks your wife will enjoy living the good life using your money, with you no longer around to bother her. Geri thinks your wife is enough of a looker to find a guy to fuck. Maybe take him out to nice places using your money."

Walter sat silently for a moment. Ray had created a mental picture in his brain that probably matched Walter's own idea of what his bitch of a wife might do with his money.

Then Walter said, "That's blackmail!"

Ray nodded. "Yes it is. You're right. It's blackmail. But it won't cost you a cent -- unless, of course, Gordon finds out about Geri -- and then, no matter how Gordon finds out, it'll cost you a lot."

"Now," Ray continued, "you're gonna get up and leave. You're not gonna bother Geri any more. You're not even gonna try to play with her ass when you dance with her. You're just gonna go home and pretend you never met Geri and all this never happened. We will have enough copies of this video in enough places to insure that no one you hire can get them all."

Walter sat there for a full minute. He was in deep thought, as if trying to figure a way out of his dilemma. Then he shook his head, sighed, and got up and walked silently out the door.

I reached down and touched my ring. My world came back to me again.

I was sitting by the pool at Gordon's condo complex -- our condo complex I kept reminding myself -- looking down at my ring. It wasn't a big diamond, but it was my diamond. I had gotten married and graduated from college the same month.

My graduation from Broward meant a lot to Mom and Dad -- I was the first one in our family with a college degree. They were so happy and they kept saying how proud they were that I had paid for it myself. "Worked her way through college." They said, over and over. Each time they said it, I said a silent prayer that they never found out what kind of work I was doing. I'd been a hooker on Miami Beach.

I had gotten out of the business when I met a very special guy. My Gordon. God how I loved him! I'd do anything he asked me to do. And I'd do whatever I had to do to keep him. In fact, I'd already done it! Sitting next to me by the pool was my very close friend Gloria, another veteran of the world's oldest profession, who saved up a big stash and turned straight. She'd helped me to deal with a former customer who threatened to break up my engagement to Gordon.

That former customer was a senior partner in Gordon's accounting firm but he couldn't squeal on me now because we'd made a video of his escapades with a couple of hookers -- actually, a couple of ex-hookers. And if his bitch of a wife ever got a copy she would take Walter for everything he had in a big divorce. She was a real bitch. She was the reason he was hiring rent-a-pussy when he met me in Miami last year.

Gloria had been Maid of Honor at my wedding in Orlando several days after my graduation. We chuckled about that -- two ex-hookers in church -- both dressed in virgin white. Gloria wanted to get out of Miami and she had decided to come to Knoxville for her new start and she had leased a condo in the very fancy complex where Gordon had his place. I think Gordon was impressed when she wrote the check. He said something about how well paid cocktail waitresses were in Miami.

Gloria had good training and experience as a secretary before she changed professions to get a better income, and now she was hoping to get a job with Gordon's firm. If fact, she might actually become Gordon's secretary, since his gal had taken a leave for pregnancy and might not be returning. We were talking about this as we sat by the pool.

"Your guy's damn good looking," said Gloria. "I can keep an eye on him for you."

"Don't be silly Gloria! Gordon would never stray."

"Sweetie pie," Gloria said, "knowing what you and I know about husbands from up close and very personal experience, you ought never to say something that dumb. My guess is that there's a bevy of broads at the firm who would be eager to spread their legs for him."

"I doubt that," I said.

"Who was he banging before he met you?"

"I don't think he was ... I mean ... well"

"You said he was a damn good lover. Where'd he learn it?" Gloria asked.

"Yes, but ... " it was hard for me to think about Gordon pumping away between some girl's legs.

"He had to learn it somewhere," Gloria said with certainty. "It's nice to spot the competition before they spot you."

Gloria got me to thinking. She was right of course. I wasn't the only broad who saw what a special guy Gordon was. Over the next two weeks, as I went through the interview process in applying for a job as an associate at the firm, I began to have thoughts about each attractive woman I met -- and there were a large number of them -- all soft spoken southern gals who seemed so innocent, but who would cut your heart out if you got in their way.

I got the job. My degree in business helped but I think the clincher was Walter's recommendation. I was at the bottom of the totem pole and at the bottom of the building -- in the basement -- but my job classification was as an accountant, so in time I would get clients and move up. Gloria started almost at once as Gordon's secretary and each evening, over cocktails by the pool she would fill me in.

Early on she gloated, "I was right! All the girls say Gordon was the prime catch in the company. He fucked a couple of gals for a few months each, but the only one he spent any time with was Margie Cooper. She's the gal with the long legs and the big tits, who works the main reception desk. They were a thing for almost a year."

I had seen her tits. I had seen her long legs. The thought of Gordon between them caused my belly to feel funny.

"Was he in love with her?" I asked.

"He was fuckin her -- big time -- but no honey, he was not in love with her. The girls say she proposed to him and he turned her down -- that's when they broke up."

******" I said. "He was just fucking her and ... "

"Sweetie pie," Gloria cooed softly, interrupting me, "You gotta stop thinking that way. It's not good for you. Don't you remember anything you learned about men. Men like to fuck!"

I shook my head. "Gordon's not like that. I know he's not."

"Gordon is a man. And if you're serious about keeping him, don't forget that. Remember why we always had so much business?"

"Yes, I remember," I said.

"Tell me why," Gloria demanded.

"Gordon's not like that," I repeated. I just couldn't think about Gordon that way.

"Tell me why," Gloria demanded again.

I sighed. "Because they didn't get enough good pussy at home. But Gordon's not ... "

Before I could finish, Gloria said, "Gordon's a man! Don't forget it."

After that conversation every time I passed Margie's desk I couldn't help eyeing her tits and legs and feeling jealousy. I didn't have any clients of my own yet but I had fit in well with the firm doing a lot preliminary work to get stuff ready for the senior partners.

Gloria also did well. Gordon said she was an excellent secretary and she got several invitations to dinner from really nice guys -- the kind she left Miami to meet. On more than one occasion I noticed Gordon talking to Margie at her workstation and each time I felt a pang of jealousy. I confessed my feelings to Gloria one night by the pool.

"I can't help the way I feel, knowing that he fucked her for a year," I said.

"Don't worry about it," said Gloria. "Just give him what a man needs at home and do it a lot."

The next afternoon, late, I had to take some files from my basement office to the top floor, and coming back as I stood waiting for the elevator, I looked casually out the window. I saw Gordon talking to Margie in the parking lot. It was more than a casual conversation. Then he took her in his arms and she pressed her face to his chest. My heart almost stopped. When I got on the elevator it took forever to get to the ground floor. I ran out to the parking lot, but they were gone.

I rushed back to his office looking for Gloria and she was not there. Neither was Gordon. I asked the secretary in the next office where Gordon was and she said he left early. I had no idea what was happening but it was obviously bad. I didn't go back to my office.

I went home hoping to find Gordon there. The condo was empty. I went down to Gloria's condo and she was not there. I called her cell and then Gordon's cell and got no answer. Then I sat down in the living room and started to cry. Then I started to *****. I drank a lot.

It was after midnight when Gordon came home. He had on his dress shirt without a coat or tie. His hair was messed up. And there was lipstick all over the front of his shirt. He saw the expression on my face and got a puzzled look on his. I had a sick feeling in my stomach. I walked up to him.

I slapped him across the face as hard as I could and shouted, "Get out of here you bastard! Get out!"

Then I raced out and headed down to Gloria's condo. Gloria looked at me with surprise when she opened her door -- I had pounded on it as hard as I could. She had obviously just gotten home herself and was putting her things away.

"What's the matter?" Gloria asked. "What the hell's wrong?"

"It's Gordon," I said. "He's been out with Margie and he's got lipstick all over his shirt."

Still puzzled Gloria said, "Didn't Stella get down to your office and tell you where we were going? She was on her way there when we left."

"Nobody told me anything," I said. "I didn't go back to my office after I saw Gordon kiss Margie in the parking lot."

"You saw what?" Gloria shouted.

"I saw Gordon kiss Margie in the parking lot," I repeated.

Gloria began to treat me like I was crazy. "Just sit down and calm down. I'd get you a ***** but it looks like you've had several already."

I did what she asked. She sat down opposite me.

"In the first place you didn't see Gordon kiss Margie in the parking lot!"

I knew I wasn't wrong about that. "I did! I saw it! He took her in his arms!"

Gloria nodded. "That's right, he took her in his arms and he held her. But he did not kiss her. I was standing not ten feet away. Didn't you see me?"

"The only thing I saw was Gordon holding Margie. And Gordon just got home and it's after midnight." I was crying now -- sobbing. "He's got lipstick ... "

"Just listen to me Geri." Gloria interrupted. "Stop crying and listen to me. About three this afternoon Margie got a call from her ******. Her ****** had had a stroke or a seizure or something bad and was rushed to the hospital. The doctor thought she might die. They live up in the mountain country -- in Highlands. No way could Margie drive those winding roads at high speed. She asked Gordon for help. She was about to collapse."

"I sent Stella to tell you what was happening. Gordon drove and I sat in the back seat with Margie. Gordon drove like hell, but he's from here and he knows mountain roads. When we got there her ****** was still alive but in a very serious condition. Gordon and I left and drove back here. Margie's ****** is in bad shape -- probably won't make it. Margie is devastated of course."

I took a deep breath and tried to collect myself. "You were with them the whole time? They weren't alone together?"

Gloria shook her head. "Oh My God! Geri don't act crazy! Margie was devastated. I was there the whole time. Nothing happened between Gordon and Margie except he held her in his arms several times and comforted her when she started to cry."

I sat there feeling ***** and a wave of nausea swept over me. I was afraid I was going to be sick. I was behaving like a little fool. A hysterical fool! I had been so jealous of Margie for the past month that I couldn't think straight. I sat there collecting myself, until a horrible memory hit me.

"Oh my God Gloria. I slapped his face and told him to get out. Then I ran down here."

Gloria took my arm and helped me stand up. "Then we better go up there and hope he didn't listen to you."

When we got inside our condo, Gordon was not there. There was a note on the hall table. I picked it up and a chill went through my body.

The note read, "Gone back to help Margie. Will call when I know something. Gordon."

Gloria read the note. "Well honey, you did it to yourself. Now, I'm gonna give you a piece of advice. And you'd damn well better take it. Do not think about Margie. Do not wonder if he's gonna fuck her. And keep reminding yourself, that if he fucks her, you drove him to it. And even if he does fuck her, you still haven't lost him. Can you do that?"

I didn't know if I could do that. I hated that bitch so much I couldn't even feel sympathy for her ******'s illness.

"I don't know," I mumbled.

"Well you better try honey, if you want to keep him, that is. Margie may still be in love with him. And if she is, she'll fuck him if she can -- wouldn't you? You know damn well you would. Gordon is basically a very nice man. With him up there this thing could go from giving her support and comfort to giving her something more. And if it does it's your fault. If he loves you he's not gonna leave you unless you drive him away. If you worry more about him fucking Margie than about you fucking him, then you're gonna be in deep *****"

I just stood there crying and thinking about Gordon with those long lovely legs wrapped around his back and those big beautiful tits bouncing as he fucked her.

"You're not listening to me Geri. You're thinking about Gordon fucking Margie. You gotta stop that. He loves you. She feels bad. So what if he does give her a sympathy fuck. So what! You won't lose him unless you drive him away and the best way to do that is to show him that you're an angry, jealous, little bitch. A man doesn't fall out of love with one woman just because he fucks another one. Understand men! You're a pro! Remember -- don't act like a jealous bitch!"

I tried to reach Gordon the next day and couldn't. Cell phones didn't work well in the mountains. Fortunately Gordon called Gloria about some office business and she explained my behavior to him. He was still very upset when he called me at home that night.

"I'm sorry you got the wrong idea, honey. But, I still can't figure out why you think I'd do something like that. You really think I'd fuck Margie?"

How could I answer that? Yes I thought he might fuck Margie, but no way could I tell him that now. I heard Gloria's voice in my head and I tried to forget about Margie. I just tried to convince Gordon that I loved him and I'd had too much to *****. I didn't do a good job. I was too damn jealous.

Gordon stayed with Margie for several days. I was afraid to ask him where he slept. When he got back things were not the same. I kept trying to get him to fuck me and he did, but not very passionately. I talked to Gloria about it and she agreed that I had a problem.

The next weekend there was a party at the club and after dinner Walter asked me to dance. He was very polite and respectful -- not a word about ******* me to have sex with him to keep my secret. Gordon danced with Walter's wife. They were laughing and seemed to have a lot of fun together. They danced several times that evening and they talked a lot.

That night as Gordon and I sat on the balcony sipping Macallan-12, Gordon said the strangest things about Walter's wife.

"I have always felt sorry for Susan because Walter treats her so badly. She's a real nice person, she's beautiful, and she tries to be a good wife, but he won't let her."

Susan was a bitch. What should I say? "I don't know her that well. But you're right about one thing -- Walter does not treat her very well."

The next two months were the unhappiest months of my life. Margie had returned after two weeks. Her ****** had recovered, but was not doing well. Gordon had made another overnight trip to see her ****** and to drive Margie back to town. I didn't say a word -- Gloria kept telling me not to think about Margie. Gordon had spent five or six nights at Highlands and I had no idea where he slept or what his relationship to Margie had been. I was sick with jealousy and fear. Now he just fucked me when I initiated it. I tried to conceal my jealousy but I was sure Gordon knew how I felt.

The only person I could talk to was Gloria and I picked her brain every time I got the chance. One evening down by the pool I broke more bad news to Gloria.

"He's taking Margie back to see her ****** next week," I said. "They'll be gone several days. He's fucking her Gloria -- I know he's fucking her."

"You don't know for sure," Gloria responded, "and even if he is, the last thing you want to do is get in a fight over it. Don't think about it. That green monster will tear you up inside. It'll make you act strange -- Gordon will notice. You haven't lost him yet and I don't think you're going to, unless you act like a bitch. Let him fuck her if he wants to. Just don't think about it."

"Is he seeing her here?" I asked. "I mean is he gone from the office during the day?"

Gloria hesitated, and then seemed to make a decision. "I haven't told you, but yes he is gone more than I would have expected - some long lunches and some afternoons. I don't know where."

"So he could be seeing her?" I felt that pain in my stomach again.

"It's possible," Gloria said. "Has he started fucking you more?"

"Only when I initiate it. He never starts it. Something's wrong! What the hell am I gonna do?" I felt tears in my eyes.

Gloria sat there thinking for a moment. "You've got some choices, honey. First you could do nothing and wait. Second you could try to get him to talk about it. Third you could hire a private dick and have him followed when he leaves the office. My advice is to do nothing. If he is fucking her, just pretend it's not happening. Gordon is a nice guy. Don't start trouble. Don't be a bitch. That's the only way you'll lose him."

The next Friday, I was dropping off some numbers that I had put together for one of Walter's big accounts and when I entered his office he said, "Have a seat Geri. You and I need to have a talk."

His voice had a no nonsense tone. I sat down and said, "What about."

"Ordinarily I would be more circumspect," he said, "but in view of our past history I think the best thing to do is say it flat out."

"Say what flat out?" I asked.

"Your husband is fucking my wife."

I wanted to tell him that my husband was fucking Margie and I doubted he had time for both women. But I just sat there, nodded, and waited for him to continue.

"You don't seem surprised," he said. "Why not?"

"Well, he hasn't been himself for a couple of months," I said.

"It figures," Walter continued. "You and I have a past that needs to be kept quiet. This thing could get dirty and the last thing we need is for our story to come out. I have had a private detective follow my wife for a month and she's been meeting your husband maybe twice a week for long lunches. They met twice at a small fishing camp I own a few miles out of town. They spent an hour or two there. I think he's fuckin her."

What the hell did I have to lose? Tell him. "Well he sure hasn't been fucking me for the past two months."

Walter nodded. "I want to use this thing in a divorce. I want to get rid of that bitch. But if things get ugly what are you gonna do with that damn video?"

"Hold off a couple of days Walter. I need to think about this. I had no idea Gordon was involved with your Susan. Do you have all the things you need to prove it -- dates, times, places, pictures?"

"Yeah, I got 'em all. Everything except a picture of him shoving it in, and I won't need that."

"I'll talk to you again on Monday. We have to work together on this," I said.

That night I told Gordon I was going down to Gloria's condo and over a glass of Macallan-12 I told her the whole story.

"It's for sure he's not fucking 'em both," Gloria said. "Yeah, he goes out just like Walter said, maybe twice a week. I don't know what the hell he does."

"The only thing I can do now is talk to him," I said. "I've got to sit down and ask him what he's doing."

"Good luck Geri," Gloria said. "Can I help?"

"No. I have to do it alone."

I went back upstairs and Gordon was sitting in his favorite chair sipping Drambuie. I poured myself a glass and sat down.

"We have to talk," I said.

"What about?" Gordon asked looking a bit wary.

"Walter called me into his office today and told me that you were fucking Susan. Are you?"

He didn't bat an eye. He poured himself some more Drambuie, took a sip, and leaned back in his chair. His voice was calm. He was in control.

"First I was fucking Margie. You haven't stopped thinking about that, have you? It's been haunting you. It's getting to you. You're lousy in bed -- all mechanical like a machine -- no loving. I can read your mind Geri! You're thinking, 'Tire the bastard out so he won't fuck Margie.' Now answer me -- that is what you have been thinking when we fuck isn't it?"

Oh my God. He's right. That's exactly what I'd been thinking. ****! I'm a pro. And I can't even please the man I love in bed! Tears started to flow but I refused to sob. Gloria was right when she told me to pretend it wasn't happening. I lowered my head -- not looking at him.

"Yes," I said softly. "That's exactly what I've been thinking. I'm so very sorry."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "And now I'm supposed to be fucking Susan. You really think I'm fucking them both?"

Saying it like that it made me look like a damn fool. I sat looking at my lap. Then I shook my head no.

"So at first it was Margie and now it's Susan."

I didn't seem to be able to say anything that made sense, so I just shook my head yes.

"I suppose Walter had us followed. Is that it?"

Again, I just nodded yes.

"Okay, let's talk about Margie first. I had a long affair with her and she fell in love with me but I could never fall in love with her, and after I met you, there was only one woman for me. One woman always."

I felt like a little fool. What wonderful days those had been. Could we ever be that way again? Oh my God!

"After I stopped seeing Margie she continued to feel strongly for me -- I guess you'd call it love. When her ****** became ill she turned to me for help and I did what I could for her. I spent a great deal of time with her because she needed me. Your dirty little mind will be gratified to know that she tried to get me into bed with her. But, I didn't take her to bed."

My dirty little mind! I deserved that!

"Now about Susan. I've been meeting Susan a couple of times a week for over a month -- a long lunch or a place we can talk. She is a very sensitive person who has been hurt a great deal by Walter's uncaring attitude. She is well aware that he patronizes hookers when he travels and hits on any woman around town whenever he gets a chance. I have heard her life story over and over. She says talking to me helps. Maybe it does, but I was worried that someone would get the wrong idea and it looks like that has happened."

I looked up at him and started to ask a question, "You just talked. You're not ... " but I caught myself before I said anything. Gloria was right! Nothing matters except keeping him. No one but me would believe he wasn't fucking Susan - and Margie too, for that matter. God he was beautiful! Those women would see him just like I did. They'd fuck him!

Sitting here looking at him now, I realized that Gloria was right. What's important is keeping him. If he didn't fuck 'em I win and if he did fuck 'em I still win because I keep him. He might be the man he says he is, but if he's not, he's still my man. And who the hell am I to complain anyway if he fucks around -- no way will he ever catch up with my record. Sooner or later, I'll probably find out, but right now I need to hang on to this guy.

As I was having these thoughts Gordon was still talking, "Walter will do anything to dump Susan, of course, so this could be very embarrassing for us both. Did he say what he planned to do?"

I thought fast. "I'm meeting him Monday. He said he'd decide then."

I knew what I had to do. Guilty or innocent, I was not going to let Gordon be the star witness in Walter's divorce trial. Walter was gonna have to find some other way to dump that bitch. Otherwise her lawyer was gonna watch a fun video.

That night I forgot about Margie and I forgot about Susan and I forgot about everything, except - I didn't forget all the ways I knew how to please a man. I fucked and sucked and pleasured Gordon like my life depended on it. I was a pro and a damn good one and I worked like one for a change. I didn't care if he wondered, "How did my innocent, loving wife learn to do that?" I just did it and didn't give him time to wonder where I'd learned it.

He got everything I knew how to do. I would have charged a John three thousand bucks for that all night trick. There was professional skill in it, a lot, but, a hell of a lot of love too. I forgot about myself. I thought only about him, and I brought him off four times -- each time a different way. He was my very special guy and he got the best I could give him. It went on most of the night and he was exhausted the next morning, which, fortunately, was Saturday. Gloria was right. Quit worrying about those other broads and take care of your man.

When I woke him just before noon, I had two big ****** Marys in my hands and I was smiling down at him. I had sponged and sprayed assorted body parts and fixed my face and hair, and I was buck-naked, standing there posed, in spike heels.

I said to him with a great big smile, "I love you Gordon. If you want some more of me, we got all afternoon."

He looked up at me and smiled. "Let me have that *****, baby, while I think about your offer."

He was mine again! I could see it in his eyes. He was mine!

We sat in bed sipping our ****** and me thinking, 'Geri you're tired and you pussy's sore. You've been acting like a wife and getting out of shape. You need to do this more often! When you were working you'd be ready to turn another trick this afternoon.'

Gloria was right. Men are men! Give your man what he needs -- and like any other hound dog, he's gonna stay on the porch -- most of the time.

I am one really lucky broad! The guy that pimped for me when I was turning tricks on Miami Beach, working my way through Broward College, told me that most girls never make it back once they've been on the street. But I had met a very special guy and we had fallen in love. Gordon and I had gotten married and I went straight. My business degree from Broward helped me get a job at Gordon's accounting firm in Knoxville. My friend, Gloria, also a veteran of the world's oldest profession, had moved to Knoxville with me and joined the firm as Gordon's secretary.

The whole thing almost went south when Gordon's boss, Walter, figured out that he had been a customer of mine the year before. He had recognized me, and he would have screwed up my marriage plans except that Gloria and I suckered him into a sexual evening with our pimp taking video from the closet. If his wife ever got a look at that video she would take him for every penny he had in a divorce.

Gordon and I settled down to a beautiful life together but, for some crazy reason, Gordon had become concerned about Walter's wife, Susan, and was trying to help her deal with the terrible way Walter treated her. Walter found out about them getting together and thought Gordon was screwing her. He figured he could use this to divorce her but he was worried about that video I had of him with two hookers.

I was meeting Walter this Monday morning to tell him that no way was my Gordon going to be a star witness in his divorce trial.

"You're not gonna do it Walter," I said. "No way! I'm not gonna let you use that stuff the detective got following Susan. If you try to, Susan's lawyer will get a copy of that video of you screwing two hookers."

"I can't believe that Geri! Your husband is fucking my wife! Aren't you mad about that?"

"Gordon says he's just talking to her. Trying to make her feel better because you treat her so bad."

"Talking to her my ass! Out at that deserted fishing camp in the woods all afternoon?"

I kept my cool. "That's what he says and that's what I'm gonna believe. You're gonna have to find some other way to dump that bitch -- I won't let you use my Gordon."

Walter settled down after that. He was unhappy about not getting a divorce but he couldn't care less about the time Gordon spent with his wife.

That night having cocktails by the pool I told Gloria about my meeting with Walter. She had her doubts about Gordon's interest in Susan, just like Walter did.

"He says he's just talking to her all afternoon at that deserted fishing camp? Do you really believe him?"

"Look Gloria. I almost screwed things up by getting jealous of Margie last month. I don't give a rat's ass if he's fuckin Susan. He's in love with me! And like you said, he's not gonna leave me unless I act like a jealous little bitch."

I couldn't forget last Friday night -- the whole weekend for that matter. Gordon had been as loving as I had ever seen him. That had been one hell of a weekend of sex and I had no doubt that Gordon was still in love with me. He could fuck Susan all he wanted to -- if he really was. He might not be. Gordon was a straight guy -- he was probably telling the truth.

A week or so later Gloria called and invited me down to her condo one night after work. When I got there she handed me a single-malt on the rocks.

"Sit down baby. You are not going to believe this. No way!"

"Believe what?" I asked, really puzzled.

"First the good news. Gordon is not fucking Susan."

"And you know that how?" I asked.

"Gordon wants me to teach Susan how to fuck," Gloria said, laughing.

"Run that by me again," I said.

"It's like this. Gordon really is just talking to Susan. He's decided that her problem with Walter is that she doesn't know how to please him in bed. He asked me to give her pointers on what a man likes."

I started to laugh. "Okay, when you got a problem go to a professional to fix it. You are certainly a professional Gloria, but Gordon doesn't know that. At least I hope he doesn't! Why did he pick you? Why not me?"

"I asked him that and he said it might embarrass you too much. He thinks I know a lot more about men than you do. He wants me to talk to Susan."

"That is the dumbest damn thing I ever heard," I said, trying to control my laughter.

"Well, I'm gonna do it but don't tell Gordon I told you. He wants to keep it very secret."

And that's how Susan's lessons started. Gloria had regular meetings with Susan several times a week to teach her sex techniques. She even got a soft plastic dick to teach her how to deep throat. Gloria got some cocaine to spray on Susan's throat so she wouldn't gag at first and Susan got to be pretty good at deep throating that big plastic dildo. I sat in sometimes and suggested some techniques to Susan. We had a lot to teach her, but after about a month Gloria pronounced Susan ready.

"But how're you gonna get Walter to fuck her?" I asked, when Gloria told me Susan was ready. "He hates her guts."

"That's where you come in," said Gloria. "You're about Susan's size and shape and you got short hair just like her. In the dark it would be hard to tell the difference between the two of you, if she just grunts and groans, and wears the same perfume and especially if she knows how to fuck."

I shook my head, puzzled. "I still don't get it."

"I'll lay it out for you. I'm gonna invite Walter over for a little sex. He'll do it -- he's been smiling at me real friendly-like recently. Then I'll hint that you might join us because you're pissed about Gordon and Susan -- you've decided he's fucking her after all. I'm gonna hide Susan in my spare bedroom -- she can get to my bathroom through the hall entrance. You're gonna come down and tell us Gordon is out for the evening."

"We'll get him ***** and stoned and play around a little. Turn him on and get our clothes off. Then we get him into my bedroom and turn out the lights. You tell him you have to go take a piss."

"When you go in the bathroom, Susan will take your place and when she comes out I'll be sure the bedroom is completely dark. Then Susan and I are gonna suck and fuck Walter's brains out. When I get a chance I'm gonna leave and Walter is gonna wake up the next morning in bed with Susan -- who, if she's smart, will have him in the saddle before he figures out what's going on."

"It will never work," I said emphatically, trying to control my laughter.

"It will if Walter has had enough to ***** and a lot of grass and the room is dark enough," said Gloria. "Remember what they say -- all pussy is the same in the dark."

I had my doubts. I was thinking about Gordon as I went back upstairs. Things could go very badly for me if something went wrong. I sat Gordon down and told him a story that was half way true. Walter was coming over to Gloria's to see Susan. It was a neutral place, I said, not like their bedroom. Gloria and I and Walter and Susan would have a few *****s and then we would leave them alone. If things worked out, they would make love.

It was a dumb plan. If Walter got wise that he was with Susan and started looking for me, things could get bad in a hurry -- especially if he was *****. It was a dumb story. The whole thing was crazy. I didn't expect either Gordon or Walter to believe what they were told, but they did. Jesus! This was insane! It would never work!

The big day finally came and Walter was going to drop by Gloria's condo that night expecting to get laid. She told him I might join them. I made a visit to Walter's office that afternoon and acted friendly. He played with my ass and I kissed him. He told me he couldn't wait to get me in bed.

I played along, but I kept thinking that the whole thing would never work. We'd deceived this horny bastard once before when we made that video and he was bound to be suspicious. He couldn't be dumb enough to trust us twice. But sometimes guys think with their little head instead of their big one and hard dicks can be really dumb.

That night in Gloria's living room, Gloria and I fed whisky to Walter and I lit a joint to get him high. Gloria tried to keep him busy but he wanted me first and he got me on the couch and had my tits out and started sucking on my nipples. I played along as Gloria and I had planned. Finally, he had me stripped down buck-naked and was fingering my pussy, which got wet even though I was not turned on. Somehow we got him into the bedroom. Gloria had figured out a way to get it completely dark.

Walter had a hard on and started chasing me around the bedroom trying to fuck me. When the doors were closed it was so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face and we kept bumping into things. Walter finally caught me from behind, bent me over, and got his cock into me. He held me firmly, so I couldn't get away, and started pounding away. He was ***** but he could still fuck.

After several minutes, I spun away from his grasp and told him I had to piss. He quit chasing me and I headed for the bathroom where Susan was hiding. I turned out the lights, flushed the toilet, and Susan headed back into the bedroom in my place.

I listened through a crack in the bathroom door. Walter had started fucking Gloria. He was stoned and ***** but he was horny and he came fast the first time -- or maybe he just thought he did -- I wasn't sure. I couldn't see a thing, but I could tell what was happening by Gloria's comments.

When Walter rolled off of Gloria, Susan started sucking his cock and when he got hard she took him deep throat. He kept calling my name and holding her head in his hands. Then Walter started fucking Susan, and Gloria headed for the bathroom. Walter was pretty groggy but still able to fuck, although it was obvious that he wasn't going to last much longer. I figured he'd pass out in a very few minutes.

Gloria and I went out the other door of the bathroom, got our clothes from the living room, and cleaned up a bit in her second bathroom. As we were getting dressed we exchanged a few whispered comments.

"Did he come with you?" Gloria asked.

"No. I got away before he had time to. What about you?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think he did but he was so ***** it was just a little squirt," Gloria said. "He was really into Susan when I left. He's sure she's you, and he's not gonna be awake much longer."

"Yeah," I said, "But what happens in the morning when he wakes up and sees he is in bed with his own wife."

"I told Susan to get him in the saddle before he's completely awake. When a guy is fucking it's hard to make him mad. Maybe this crazy idea will work after all."

"I hope Susan can follow our story line," I said. "I really wouldn't want Gordon to know that Walter stripped me down and fucked me."

"Well, he didn't come," Gloria said.

"Yeah, I'm sure Gordon would be glad to hear that," I said sarcastically. "Just keep your fingers crossed,"

We headed upstairs to our condo where Gordon was waiting.

"What's happening?" Gordon asked anxiously as we walked in.

"They're sitting in the living room ******** scotch," Gloria said, sticking with the story we had decided on. "They've had a lot to *****. They're getting real friendly. We'll have to wait and see whether anything happens."

We had a few ******. Gloria and I waited apprehensively for the phone to ring or for Walter to pound angrily on the door. Nothing happened. Walter must have passed out by now. Finally about midnight we went to bed. Gloria used our guest bedroom.

The next morning, Saturday, Gloria went down to her condo about nine o'clock. I was nervous. The whole thing was riding on what happened when Walter woke up and discovered it was Susan he'd been fucking. Gloria was back five minutes later.

"They're fucking," she said. "The room is bright with the morning sun and they're banging away like newly weds. I didn't interrupt them."

Gordon and Susan went back to their place that afternoon. They were hand in hand and she was giggling as they walked out to the parking lot.

It was midmorning on Monday when I had occasion to stop by Walter's office with some accounts. He smiled as I walked in. It was the first time I had seen his genuine smile. Every time in the past it had been more of a leer.

"I guess I owe you a big thank you," he said.

"Did you have a good weekend?" I asked.

"You girls taught her a really great bag of tricks," he said. "I don't think she's tried even half of them yet. Jesus! How did you teach her to deep-throat?"

"That's a professional secret, Walter. We know our job. I'm glad you liked it. She's good. Those tricks we taught her will last you for a while, but I figure you're too big a bastard to give up playing the field completely," I said.

He chuckled. "Any time you want to play just let me know. I almost got you Friday night."

He said "almost." Maybe he doesn't remember that he actually fucked me a little. Well, I can gladly forget it too.

"You're fun Walter -- and I think we're finally gonna be friends. But Gordon is enough for me," I said.

Then I added, "Oh, and we taught Susan the facts of life about men. She'll probably let you play around a little -- she's always known you did that -- but, Walter, don't get too blatant about it. Don't make her lose peoples' respect. You owe her that."

He nodded. "I'll be careful. Things are gonna be better around the house now and I appreciate what you gals did for me - and for Susan. And you never had a guy involved helping you? Not Gordon or anybody?"

"Well I'll be damned Walter! Are you jealous?" I chuckled.

"No! I just meant ... well ... Gordon wasn't fucking her after all ... was he?"

He said it like he was afraid that Gordon had really been fucking Susan.

I laughed. "You're jealous! You really are! You've been fucking everything in sight and now you're jealous of your sweet, loving, little wife. Oh God Walter! Do you know how good that makes me feel?"

"I am not jealous!" Walter said stubbornly.

"Oh this is really great. I'm gonna tell Susan that if you piss her off, she needs to find a guy and fuck him. That'll keep you at home! She'll do it too -- she's very impressed with what we taught her. She thinks we know how to handle men and she'll do what we tell her to do."

"God damn it Geri don't even joke about a thing like that! I can't have my wife spreading her legs for some stranger."

"Oh but Walter, she'd never fuck a stranger. You can be sure it would be a friend of yours. Probably a very close friend!"

With that, Walter jumped up out of his chair. He was red in the face and he was shouting. I had him -- I really had him by the short hairs.

"God damn it Geri don't talk that way! Even if you're just kidding! ****! Promise me you won't say anything to her. Promise! Please!"

I couldn't help laughing. "Oh Walter you're priceless. I think we really are going to be friends after all."

He looked relieved. "You were kidding me weren't you? Weren't you?"

"Well maybe a little. I won't say anything to Susan unless you give me a reason to."

I felt a lot better about Walter when I left his office. Our relationship seemed a lot better and I figured that Walter and I might finally get along. He was still an uncured, unrepentant lecher, but maybe he would run around a little less, and treat Susan a little better, if he got well serviced at home.

We had solved Susan's problem and my relationship with Walter was much improved, but Gordon began to ask some difficult questions. It all started very casually, but a light went on in my head with his first question.

"You and Gloria must have had a lot of fun in the singles scene on Miami Beach," Gordon said a week or so later after dinner. We were sitting on our balcony overlooking the pool sipping Drambuie.

I felt a tight cramp in my belly. Oh God! Not now! Please! Things are going so well. Was Gordon finally getting curious about what we had done to help Susan?

"We had a lot of fun playing the field," I said. "Of course, I had a lot of studying to do for college, but we still got out a lot."

"When we met," he said, "I got the idea you were more of the quiet type. Not a playgirl."

"I was the quiet type and so was Gloria. We dated a lot of different guys but we weren't playgirls. Would you be upset if I had been?"

He dodged my question. "You know your way around a bedroom and you and Gloria sure made an instant expert out of Susan. When you were single, did you ever do anything that I would be upset about?"

There it was. Flat out. One lie leads to another and another and finally to disaster.

"Of course I did, Gordon. You would be upset about a lot of things I did. Miami Beach isn't Knoxville. You knew you didn't marry a virgin."

He took another sip of Drambuie and then reached for the bottle and, wordlessly, refilled both our glasses. I had no idea where this was going but I was not going to lie. Nor was I going to volunteer anything.

"I have an idea that if I asked you, you might really tell me. For now, I'll just say I love you very much. But darling, remember, always remember, there is nothing you could tell me that would ever change that. Absolutely nothing."

Nothing? I wonder! I ran the numbers in my head as I had done so many times before. Those were big numbers! He had never seen my private bank account but he had an idea about how well off Gloria was. Maybe he suspects -- maybe he doesn't. I sighed deeply. Then I thought how much I wanted to be sure that nothing would change his love for me. I was ready to do anything to keep him. Anything! I had the feeling, deep inside, that this question was going to be asked again. My ugly past was not yet completely buried.

"I love you too, honey," I said.

This is the fifth chapter in a story about a hooker from Miami Beach who met and married a very special guy. He thought she was just a college student. Her secret fear, a fear that sometimes ruled her life, was that her husband would discover the dirty little secret in her past.

April fifteenth! It was over! Finally it was over. All of us had been busting our butts doing eighteen hour days and more. If you've never worked at an accounting firm you have no idea what we go through during the first three and a half months of each year. It's not our fault. Clients are always missing something and they are always late with their receipts and W2s and 1099s and all the rest.

But it was over now and every one of us breathed a big sigh of relief - the partners, especially - I was just a peon. There was still work for us peons to do – they called us "associates" but we were peons. We'd still be working, but now we could take a little time off.

Every year at this time our senior partner, Walter, led a bunch of partners to Las Vegas for an "accountants seminar." Seminar my ass! They're going out there to gamble and fuck whores! Prostitution was legal out there. And if there was one thing Walter knew more about than accounting it was hookers (that's how I met him).

This trip he was taking Gordon, my very special guy, and Jack, another partner that my friend Gloria had gotten herself engaged to. The day they left, Walter's wife, Susan, joined Gloria and me in the evening for cocktails on the patio by the pool at our condo complex. We were ******** Macallan-12.

"He's gonna get laid,' Susan said. "He always gets laid on these trips and Vegas is full of hookers."

"Jack's gonna get laid too," said Gloria. "I could tell by the look on his face when he left for the airport."

Then Gloria looked at me. "What about Gordon? Has he ever fucked a hooker?"

She had that "oh so clever" look on her face. Susan was not aware that Gloria and I had retired with lots of cash after short, but successful careers in the world's oldest profession. I think she suspected something when we taught her a lot of sex techniques, which worked so well on Walter, but I don't think she knew for sure.

I chuckled. "I think he's probably fucked a hooker. Most guys have. And yes I think Walter will lead him down the primrose path. They have a big suite with three bedrooms. I think Walter is planning some big parties – parties with girls."

Susan looked at her watch. "The sun's under the yardarm in Vegas. I imagine the party is about to begin, unless they are winning at Blackjack."

We had a couple more ****** and then went to bed. The next morning, Saturday, my phone rang early as I was trying to get some extra *****. It was Gordon.

"You're up awful early," I said. "I thought you guys would have a party and ***** late."

"We did have a party - a big one. But I couldn't ***** late. I was thinking about you."

"That's sweet!" I said, hoping he really meant it.

"Well, not really. Sweetness has nothing to do with it. I missed you in bed," Gordon said.

I laughed. "That's a very nice compliment, but I figured Walter would arrange something to keep you occupied in bed."

"He did. He hired three hookers to come up to our suite and we had a big party. I took one of them to bed in my room."

My mind flashed a picture of Gordon fucking a hooker and I felt not the slightest jealousy. That's weird, I thought, remembering the sick jealousy I had felt last year when I thought Gordon was fucking his old girlfriend Margie.

I chuckled. "So you got laid?"

"I got laid. But, somehow it just wasn't up to your standards. That's why I'm calling. Why don't you get on a plane and come out here. I miss you."

Gordon had said nice things to me a lot of times, but this was over the top. He was on vacation in Vegas, fucking anything he wanted. I think he knew he could get away with it. And he wanted me! Jesus! How many broads get that lucky? My head started making out a packing list.

"I'll get packed and on my way this morning, baby. You don't have to ask me twice. What about Jack? You think he might want Gloria to come out with me?"

"He and I talked about it. Jack said his gal was good but not spectacular. Those were his exact words, 'Good but not spectacular.' So when I told him I was calling you, he said for me to have you invite Gloria as well."

"Alert the front desk that you're gonna have company. We'll see you soon."

I called Gloria and told her that Gordon wanted me to join him because the hooker he screwed was disappointing in bed.

She almost shouted. "You're the luckiest damn broad I ever met Geri. I have never heard of a man who prefers his wife to a really skillful hooker, although I must admit that you are a really skillful hooker."

"Well, Gloria, your guy Jack told Gordon that the gal he fucked was good but not spectacular."

There was a long pause, and then, Gloria asked, "Were those his exact words?"

"His exact words, 'Good but not spectacular,' was what he said."

"Oh my God! Jack always tells me that I am spectacular in bed- that's the word he always uses. Do you think he might want me to come out there? "

"I don't think, honey. I know. Jack asked Gordon to have me invite you. Do you want to come?"

"I'm headed to the closet to get my suitcase even as we speak."

We were routed through O'Hare and arrived in Vegas in late afternoon. We had a surprise for Walter. We had invited Susan to join us. We were not at all sure that we had done the right thing. We had no idea if it would be a pleasant surprise since she had never joined him on one of his "business" trips, but we thought "What the hell!" And Susan was very eager to join us.

At the front desk the clerk looked at his computer screen, checked my ID, and smiled.

"Not many wives are joining their husbands, but you are certainly welcome."

We went up to the suite. It had been cleaned but remnants of a big party remained, including a pair of bikini panties hanging on the head of Walter's bed.

All of us had brought our sexiest dresses and miniskirts with spike heels and by the time we had cleaned up and dressed we looked a lot like hookers – high-class hookers, of course, but hookers all the same. We had done it on purpose.

When we went down to the casino we got a lot of friendly looks from guys. Gloria and I were comfortable with the attention. In fact, we were having fun.

"Like old times, isn't it?" Gloria whispered to me. "Kinda feels good to have guys look at you that way again, especially since I got my own guy waiting for me – a guy who thinks I'm 'spectacular' and is looking forward to seeing me."

"Yeah," I said. "I know what you mean, but we better keep a close eye on Susan. She's never been in this situation before."

We walked around the casino for a while, checking out the tables, and fending off several guys. Susan got one genuine proposition, which gave her a really big thrill, and Gloria and I fielded several propositions easily. The offers give us an idea of what the rates were in Vegas – a little lower than Miami, probably because there was more competition here.

Finally we spotted our guys leaving a craps table shaking their heads as though they had not had a good roll. We waved and smiled and joined them. Gordon gave me a big warm kiss and said he was glad to see me.

Jack beamed when he saw Gloria. "Oh baby you can't know how glad I am to see you."

Walter's mouth dropped open, his face looked shocked, and his eyes went from Susan's tight blouse to her very short miniskirt and then to her spike heels. She was dressed to show off her fabulous figure. I think Walter was shocked at how sexy she looked.

"What the hell are you doing here? Why are you dressed like that?" Walter said, nervously examining his wife's sexy outfit.

"Geri and Gloria invited me to come out with them. This is fun. You're not gonna believe this Walter, but a guy offered me $400 to come up to his room for an hour. Can you believe that? Four hundred dollars! He had his hand on my ass when he said it."

Walter's face turned bright red. I had seen his jealousy before. "Geri how the hell could you let something like that happen? Susan doesn't know how to take care of herself in a place like this."

"Don't worry Walter. I'm watching her. I'd never let her go up to some guy's room for $400. Susan's worth at least $600."

Walter exploded loud enough for people to look at us. "Don't joke about that Geri. This is all your idea. I know it is. Jesus! Now what?"

"We're all checked in to the suite. It's almost time for dinner and then we can start to party," I said.

Walter was nervous as hell but we had ****** and then dinner. He kept trying to make a phone call on his cell but didn't get an answer. Finally we went up to the suite. I had left the bikini panties hanging on the head of Walter's bed and he ran in there and put them in his pocket first thing.

"Looks like you had fun last night," Susan said laughing.

Walter kept dialing a number on his cell. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and our doorbell rang several times. I went over and opened the door and saw exactly what I expected. Three over-dressed, slightly over-weight hookers.

Walter raced up to them. "I tried to get you on the phone, but ... "

"Come on in girls," I said. "The party is about to begin. We're their wives and we decided to join them."

There was no way, of course, absolutely no way, that these gals were going to believe that story. I'm sure they figured that Walter had hired three more hookers to make a bigger party. Walter kept sputtering and trying to explain to Susan, who was laughing and getting a kick out of his embarrassment. I had told her to "Go with the flow," and she was doing exactly that.

Gloria turned on some music, jazz, and started to mix the ******.

One of the gals, Shirley, cupped Walter's crotch in her hand and said, "I hope this thing performs tonight as well as it did last night."

Walter spun away from her, embarrassed, and looked at Susan, who was giggling.

"I'm sure it will honey," Susan said to Shirley. "It's never failed him yet."

I had seen and done a lot of crazy things in my life, but this was a first for me. Here was a gal – she called herself Rosie, a working name I'm sure – that my special guy had fucked the night before and I felt no jealousy at all – only amusement. She was a fake blonde with much bigger tits than mine, and full hips – the kind men like to grab in both hands when they fuck. She was laughing and rubbing her body against Gordon and occasionally reaching down and stroking his crotch.

I went over to them and started doing the same thing. Gordon did not have a hard on, but he was laughing and enjoying the attention. Gloria and the third gal were working on Jack the same way.

But what Gloria and Gordon and I were enjoying the most was the way Walter reacted as Shirley worked on him with Susan helping her out. Susan was laughing and Walter was as uncomfortable as I had ever seen him. Everything was working out as I had hoped it would.

We danced as threesomes and drank and laughed and one of the gals lit a joint and passed it around. Neither Gordon nor I took a puff and both of us were watching our ********. Shirley opened her blouse and got her tits out. Then she grabbed Walter's hand and pressed it onto her tits. Susan just laughed.

After a couple of hours of partying and ********, Gloria and I pushed Walter into his bedroom with Shirley and Susan and closed the door. Then Gloria grabbed Jack and the gal working on him and disappeared into their bedroom.

Gordon walked over to Rosie. "You don't have to stay," he said. "I'm going to spend the night with my wife."

Then he pealed off eight Franklins from his roll and handed them to Rosie. He was very nice to her but I could tell from her expression that she didn't believe I was his wife. She figured I was another hooker that Gordon wanted to be alone with. She was right about me being another hooker, of course, and I was glad he wanted us to be alone.

Then Gordon led me into the bedroom.

"I don't need anybody else but you," he said. "You're so damn good in bed that I think I'd keep you even if I didn't love you so much."

That got to me. "You know how much it means to me to hear you say 'I love you?'"

"I've figured out a lot of things in the ten months we've been married," he said. "I know, for example, that you really do love me as much as I love you."

"And just how do you know that?"

"Last summer when you were afraid of losing me to Margie your whole life seemed to fall apart. Jesus! You were even lousy in bed!"

"I'm sorry about that."

"But last night when you knew us guys were fucking hookers, you could care less. It was like I had a get-out-of-jail-free card."

"Well ... I ... you know. I ... I guess you did."

"You were especially happy when I said that the hooker was not as good as you were. And tonight when you thought I might want a threesome it didn't trouble you at all. You just went along with anything I wanted."

"Because I love you."

"Oh it's more than that, Geri. Much more than that! It's what you understand that other women don't. Most women get sex and love all mixed up. You don't. You know the difference. And I think I know why."

"Well ... I ... I ..." What the hell did he mean by that? Oh my God! Oh no! It can't be!

"I've put a lot of things together these past ten months," he said.

Oh ****! My stomach cramped. "Such as?" I said almost in a whisper.

"Such as how we met in Miami and how you paid your way through college and how you and Gloria taught Susan all those sex techniques and all the money that Gloria has and your reaction to Margie - so different from your reaction to Rosie and the way you are in bed – everything a man could ever want."

Oh my God! It can't come out now! Not after all our happy times. A sick, cramping feeling grabbed my gut. I felt like I wanted to throw up. Why now? Does he know?

I just stood there, almost trembling. I couldn't think of anything to say. I was afraid to say anything. I just knew that whatever I said would be wrong.

Gordon looked down at me – then he took me gently in his arms.

"You were a hooker in Miami weren't you? That's the way you worked your way through college, wasn't it? You were a hooker."

My mind went numb. Don't lie I told myself. It was all I could think. My ugly past had come back to punish me. It's over! He's gone! All my inner fears these past months were justified. Don't lie. Tell him the truth!

I looked him directly in the eye. "Yes I was."

Gordon put his arms around me and kissed me and held me close. Then he looked down at me – his face inches from mine.

"I love you Geri. I never want to lose you."

Then he picked me up and carried me to bed. I felt my body start to tremble. Oh my God I love him so. Sometimes I feel like this and I don't know why. ****! I'm a pro and here I am trembling like some damn high school girl about to get laid. God I want to please him!

He's laying me down on the bed and starting to undress me. What does he want me to do? I'll do anything he wants! Anything! Should I ask him or just wait and see? What should I do?

Oh my God! All he wants is just a simple missionary. Why do I feel so damn helpless?

Oh God! That feels good! He's kissing me and fucking me and I'm trembling like a virgin. I love him. I love him so. Oh ****! Damn it! I'm gonna come. Not yet! No! It's too soon! He hasn't come yet. I don't want to come first. I want him to come first. What can I do to please him?

Then the contractions began and I was lost in pleasure. "Ahhh ... Ohhh ... Oh sweet Jesus!"

He kept on fucking me and my hips went out of control – he's got me going again. I can't come again. I need to find out what he wants me to do. Oh ****! I can't stop it. It's happening again!

Hard, rhythmic contractions swept in waves over my body. "Ahhh ... Ohhh ... Oh God ... I love you ... I love you."

I've got to take control. This is not supposed to happen to a pro. I gotta please him first! What's happening? His rhythm is changing – it's harder and deeper. Oh thank you God! He's about to come! Pump your ass for him you horny little bitch and take it deep. Pump harder! There it is! He's shooting his load! Oh thank you God! It wasn't just me. I love him so. I want to please him so much.

He collapsed on my chest, kissing my face. I tasted his sweat. He's rolling off of me and kissing me. Oh God I love him so!

I started to cry. "I hope you liked that. I wasn't doing very much, was I? I just kinda laid there. I didn't seem to show you much action. I didn't expect to come twice with a simple missionary. Somehow you just got to me! I wanted to do more, but I just couldn't."

He held me close and kissed me softly. "I love you Geri. I love you very much."

"I didn't do anything very special," I said. "I'm sorry."

He chuckled. "Don't be sorry, baby. I wanted to start out with a little love. Fix me another ***** and then you can get fancy if you want to. Maybe show me something new."

I got up to go in the living room and mix the *****s. I thought about his request. I could do that easy. I had a lot of choices! I was a pro. Then I trembled again and felt weak, as I remembered the sound of his voice telling me he loved me. What a very special guy he was. We're gonna have a life together, after all. There's not another man in the world like my Gordon.

I walked out into the living room, stark naked, to the ***** table and there was Gloria, also naked, mixing three *****s. I noticed she'd dyed her beaver bright red to match her hair like when she was working. I figured she did that for Jack.

"He said I was spectacular," Gloria said. "Then he rested, and that bitch crawled on to do him cowboy. You know, it's funny, but I'm not jealous at all."

"That's easy," I said. "Three reasons: she's a pro, Jack thinks you're better in bed, and you know he loves you – he asked you to come out here. That's why you're letting him have his fun with a little strange stuff."

Just then the other bedroom door opened and Susan walked out. She was naked but had on spike heels. Her body looked absolutely fabulous.

"He's fucking that fat girl now," she said.

Gloria laughed. "I think she sees herself as 'pleasingly plump' rather than fat."

Susan shook her head. "You saw her with her clothes on. She's fat! Why do guys like that?"

"Handholds," I said.

"Handholds?" Susan asked. "What are handholds?"

"Nice hunks of soft flesh on the hips to hold on to when she fucks him and extra large tits to hang down in his face. What position is she fucking Walter in?"

Susan laughed. "You're right. She's on top with her tits hanging down for him to play with. It's driving him wild. But he fucked me first! Pumped his load and I could tell he liked it."

"Are you comfortable with all this?" I asked Susan.

"I guess so. I'd for sure rather be here with him than at home alone knowing he's fucking some fat whore. This is all so new for me, but I think I like it."

"You saw the way he looked at you in the casino in that tight outfit. You have a magnificent figure and you showed it off well. He was jealous of every guy that looked at you. But I could tell he was proud," I said.

"I think he is proud, since you and Gloria taught me how to handle him," Susan said.

"Well, what's important now is that you've got him by the balls," I said.

Susan looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that he's so jealous and you're so beautiful that he's afraid – terrified – that you might fuck another guy."

"Oh I'd never do a thing like that!" Susan said firmly.

"Don't let him hear you say that," I said. "Let him think you might do it if he doesn't treat you right. That'll keep him under control. Let him enjoy his whores but keep him worried about you. Things will go better that way."

Susan looked skeptical. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure! Just look at me and Gordon. I love him so much that he owns me. I worship him. I'd do anything for him and he can do as he pleases. He's got a whole deck of get-out-of-jail-free cards. But he loves me back and he wants me."

Susan smiled and nodded her head. "I like your advice. How did you learn so much about men?"

"Experience," I said. "Lots of experience."

"I better get back in there," said Susan. "Maybe he's finished fucking that fat whore."

Susan went back to her room and Gloria looked at me and smiled. "Experience! Yeah, that's exactly what it was. Lets just hope our guys don't figure out where we got it."

"Mine has already figured it out," I said.

Gloria looked shocked. "He what?"

I told her the story. How he paid Rosie and sent her away. How he figured out about Gloria and me and how he said he loved me and carried me to bed and how I lost control and started having orgasms. When I finished Gloria just stared at me for a moment. Then she looked at me and shook her head from side to side in wonder.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, because it's true. You are the luckiest damn broad in the whole world. He loves you. He's waiting in there for you come back and show him a new trick. If there was ever a time to bust your butt and do it right, now's the time baby. Don't go ga-ga – keep your head. You're a pro. Get your ass in gear and fuck that very special guy – and do it so he'll remember this night in Vegas for a long, long time."

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Cougar Meat

Our company just got out of Chapter 11 and there was a big reorganization in all the top jobs. A lot of our big guys are out looking for work. A lot of little guys like me are looking too. I got lucky. I'm still here but I'm not sure for how long and I'm sweating it out. The new brass arrives tomorrow. Some guy named BB Taylor that I've never heard of.

My girlfriend -- almost fiancée -- survived too and if we make it to next year we plan to get married. I was at her apartment finishing up spaghetti and Chianti -- my favorite to eat and hers to fix because it's so simple.

"Safe so far," Betty said. "Most of the people we're gonna lose have been lost already."

"Yeah, but there'll be a few more," I said. "It all depends on this guy BB Taylor."

"Who is he?" Betty asked. "What have you heard about him?"

"Nothing -- nada -- except he's from back east. The Delaware office I think."

"You remember my friend Bridget?" Betty asked. "She moved to the Delaware office last year. She'll know something."

Betty looked at her watch. "It's not too late to call her."

She grabbed the phone and went into the living room. I picked up the dishes, rinsed them off, and put them into the dishwasher. When I got in the living room Betty was nodding her head as she listened to what sounded like a long story from Bridget.

"Oh Jesus!" Betty said.

Then I listened to one side of a complicated conversation with long pauses while Betty listened, fascinated, to the answers to her questions.

"Oh my God!"

"How many guys?"

"That's hard to believe!"

"And what if a guy won't?"

"What happened to him?"

"Oh *****"

"How could she do that?"

"How long does she keep 'em?"

"They do okay afterward?"

"All of them?"

When the conversation was over Betty sat there in silence for a minute and then looked at me, lovingly studying my face.

"I wish you were not so damn good looking. God you're handsome! Gorgeous is a better description. You're just luscious!"

She got my attention. "Are you going to stop trying to turn me on and tell me about this guy?"

"It's not a guy. BB Taylor is a gal. She's 45 years old and she's a cougar!"

"A cougar as in ... " I paused.

Betty continued. "As in a middle aged broad who likes to fuck handsome young guys just like you. You're 25 and that's perfect for her."

"Tell me what you learned," I said.

"To start with she's a very good executive -- that's why she survived the reorganization and moved up. Her only weakness is her need for handsome young studs. She doesn't care if they're married or single. If she wants a guy, she's gonna fuck him for a couple of months and then move on to someone else. If he doesn't want to fuck, she figures out a way to fire him. The gals at the Delaware office joke about it. 'Fuck 'em or fire 'em" is what they say. And baby, you are cougar meat -- young, handsome, hot, and ready."

I was astonished. "You gotta be kidding!"

"I'm not kidding. She's a predator. And some gals get in trouble too. If she thinks the guy she wants is sweet on a gal -- that gal gets fired first. And with the situation the company's in right now nobody's asking any questions as long as the brass delivers the bottom line. And BB delivers."

I thought about my position. "Look, Betty, I just moved up to Special Assistant to the Director. I'm gonna have to work directly under BB."

Betty nodded and then said sarcastically, "In the daytime maybe. But if Bridget's right I have a hunch BB will want you to work directly over her at night."

"That's not funny!" I said.

"I didn't mean it to be funny," said Betty. "I don't want the man I love fucking some fat, horny 45 year old broad. And I don't want the man I love fired because he refuses to fuck the ugly bitch. Jobs like yours are nonexistent today."

"How do you know she'll hit on me?"

Betty laughed, shaking her head. "Oh sweet baby, that's why I love you so much, you don't know how delicious you are. I worry enough about sexy, better-looking broads my age stealing you. Hell -- I can think two of our gals who are ready to bend over and take it from you in the supply room. Trust me. BB will hit on you."

"So what do I do?"

"First you gotta pretend you don't know me. I'm just a gal working down the hall. Don't even speak when we pass each other. Second if BB hits on you ... check that ... when BB hits on you, just act friendly and go along, no matter how fat and ugly she is. I don't want you fired."

"Maybe I can pretend to be gay?"

Betty burst out laughing. "Haven't you noticed how the girls in the office look at you? Sometimes they just sit and stare at you. Just like you're good enough to eat! The horny bitches! BB will see that right off."

"Are you telling me to fuck her?"

Betty scrunched up her face as if she were in pain. "I don't want that ugly bitch to get you in her bed! Not even once! I don't know if I could take it for several months. But according to Bridget she will drop you after a few months. Then she'll leave you alone when she gets another guy."

"Are you telling me to fuck her?"

"I don't want you to fuck her! The bitch! Fat horny bitch! But I don't want you to lose your job. I want to marry you next year just like we planned. ****! Double *****"

"Are you telling me to fuck her?"

Betty looked down at the floor. She was hurting inside. Then she gave a big sigh.

"Yeah. I guess I'm telling you to fuck her." Betty felt bad.

But, she felt a lot worse the next morning. The entire staff was called into the big conference room to meet and hear BB Taylor. BB was a stunning brunet, five seven, 115 pounds, perfect hair, perfect make-up, great tits and legs, modestly dressed in a very attractive professional outfit, and 3-inch heels to hold up a fabulous figure. She commanded the room. She was in total control.

BB could have easily passed for early thirties -- not the 45 year-old I knew she was. Betty was sitting in the back of the room with a totally stunned expression on her face, staring at BB, as she listened to her introductory remarks.

Later, BB's secretary summoned me into her big, corner office.

"Barry, just call me BB," she said extending her hand. "We'll work better that way. Well, how did I do?"

****! Now what do I say? She missed a couple of important things I thought she should have mentioned. What do I do? Tell her? She's supposed to be good. You don't get good by getting mad at the truth. A voice inside my head told me to just do my job.

"Well," I said, "I was surprised you didn't mention the lawsuit with Curtis Corp. We're gonna win that, but the staff might use a little reassurance. And sales are up. They needed to hear that too."

I waited for her to get mad. She smiled. "I got lucky! You're good! I should have covered both of those things. And you're not afraid to tell me I missed 'em. I like that too. This morning I want you to jot down what you see as our top priorities in the next quarter. I've got some reading to do. Then we'll do lunch and you can brief me."

I already had the list she wanted but I double-checked it. On our way to the elevator Betty passed us in the hall. I acted as if I didn't know her. She still had that shocked look on her face. She knew I was taking BB to lunch. Lunch went well. BB was happy with my work and we spent several hours that afternoon with stacks of paper in her office. At the end of the day, BB stopped me as I was leaving.

"There's a nice new restaurant that I want to try. Are you busy Friday night?"

I remembered what Betty had said about being friendly. "No."

"Why don't you pick me up and take me to dinner? Sevenish?"

"Sure BB. I'll do that."

I didn't go home -- I headed for Betty's apartment. When I got there she had been crying. Her eyes were red. I didn't get a chance to speak.

"The bitch! She's not fat - she's good looking. I was expecting a beat up old broad. She could pass for 32! The bitch! That figure! ****! Her tits are bigger than mine! Her hips! Did you see her hips? The bitch!"

I took her in my arms and kissed her but she was crying too much for a real kiss.

"Did she hit on you?"

"Well ... she ... "

"She did, didn't she? On the first day! I told you she would. What did she do?"

"She ... well ... I'm taking her to dinner tomorrow night."

"The bitch! An expensive restaurant and she's gonna pick up the check. Then when you take her home she's gonna invite you in for a *****. And then she's gonna ... she's gonna ... the bitch!" Betty was screaming.

"Honey, I'll call and cancel if you want."

"And get fired?"

"What do you want me to do?"

Betty just cried and stared at the floor. Then she embraced me and kissed me softly. Still sobbing she led me to the couch and we sat down.

"What do you want me to do?" I repeated.

"You gotta fuck the bitch and you gotta do it right! I was afraid if she was fat you might have trouble getting it up -- now, I don't think that'll be a problem. ****! Double *****"

It was Friday at seven when I rang the bell of her penthouse apartment. When she answered the door I was as stunned as Betty had been yesterday. All trace of the executive had vanished. Her outfit was sexy. Kinda clingy and it made her look years younger. Her low cut dress gave me a nice view of those big tits that I had admired in her business suit. They had a slight jiggle when she walked. Her heels were higher than her work shoes. Her smile was bright and sexy.

"I'm ready," she said. "I'm looking forward to a little relaxation. These first few days are always the toughest. I get tense. I hope you're a good dancer -- that relaxes me the most -- well, almost the most."

I took her arm and we went to the elevator. Her body seemed to touch me a lot. But not as much as it touched me after dinner when we danced on a crammed full, darkened dance floor. She just melted into my arms and pressed her body tightly against me -- her pussy riding my thigh. I fought it -- how would I tell Betty -- but I got an erection. She moved her body against me and discovered it -- and then she looked up at me and smiled.

"I feel the same way," she whispered, rubbing her body against my erection.

When we got back to her apartment it was no contest. I was sipping Glenlivet when she walked out of the bedroom. She had on the same spike heels but now she was wearing a thin -- almost see through -- negligee. Her nipples showed through the thin material -- big and erect - and I knew she had also removed her panties because I saw the outline of a ruddy triangle -- that thick hairy beaver.

She joined me on the couch and held up her glass. "A toast -- to a wonderful new friendship."

I drank the toast. Then she said, "Lets dance," and she was in my arms again.

I had a hard on and this time she reached down and repositioned it up against my belly and pushed her body against me to hold it there tightly between us.

"I like a man who knows what he wants," she said softly. "That kind of man usually gets it. Don't you think so?"

She looked up at me and smiled and then pulled my head down and kissed me hard. I felt her tongue work its way into my mouth and rub my tongue. My mind was working rapidly. Betty said to do what she wants -- but what does she want? Rough or gentle? Slow or aggressive? What the hell does this horny bitch want? Well, give it your best shot. Use your instincts and make a guess.

I put my hands on her shoulders and held her away from my body. Taking my time I looked her up and down.

"Why don't you take off that damn negligee so I can see what you look like?" I said it harshly, almost like a command.

It was just a guess but I hit the jackpot! The face of Miss aggressive businesswoman just melted instantly into Miss submissive lover. The negligee came off and she threw it on the floor and she posed for me and turned slowly for me to examine her body. Her hands were locked behind her head and her elbows thrown back to minimize any sag in those big beautiful breasts. She knew what made her look good.

Her figure was almost perfect. Her breasts sagged only slightly and their milky white, smooth skin matched all the skin of her body. She obviously never ventured out into the sun, which kept her skin perfect. Her belly was not as taut and flat as Betty's but it had a sexy curve that would be fun to play with. Her bush was thick with curly brunet hair and she knew how to pose to show off a magnificent pair of legs. Her hose and garter belt were perfect to make her look more naked than naked.

I stepped back and admired her body. Then I began to slowly undress. I took my time and I could see hunger in her eyes as she watched me. I was gonna own this bitch for a few months -- Betty said fuck her -- I might as well enjoy myself. She would get tired of me -- it was short-term sex with her, not love -- but I would be well taken care of when she moved on to someone else. When I got naked my erection stood straight out proudly and she stared at it hungrily. I wasn't small.

I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. She kicked off her spike heels when I laid her on the bed. I lay down beside her and took control, which is what she clearly wanted. Kissing her mouth I moved on to her breasts and when her nipples got hard I moved to her belly -- my tongue tickling her all the way. I moved my face through that rich hairy beaver and when my tongue found her clit she moaned.

I explored her pussy with my tongue -- she was dripping wet -- and then I discovered a very sensitive spot next to her clit -- probably where she pressed her vibrator when she masturbated. My tongue drove her wild and I shoved three fingers into her dripping pussy to stimulate her more. It was only a matter of minutes until she started to cry out and her whole body started to tremble. Then I felt her pussy begin contracting on my fingers.

I held her and kissed her gently and caressed her body as she recovered from her orgasm. She looked up at me with an expression of ecstasy, as she rested from her exertions. Then she looked at me, submissively.

"What do you want me to do?" She said, breathing heavily, "Anything you want. Anything. Just tell me."

Dominant and assertive in the office -- submissive and obedient in bed. But I reminded myself again that this was just the way she liked her sex. She was still the cougar. She was still my boss. And I had damn well better remember that and deliver what she wanted. I'd better keep in mind that I was her cub.

I chuckled, and then gave an order. "Get on top, baby. I want to play with those big tits while you fuck me."

"You bastard! You're gonna make me do the work?"

I chuckled again. "Damn straight BB. You're gonna do the work! I work under you! Remember?"

"Damn it! You bastard! If I didn't want you so much -- need you so much - I'd kick your ass out." Clearly, it turned her on to be ordered around in bed!

She rolled over on top of me and grasping my cock she mounted me and shoved it in deep. Supporting herself on her arms she started to pump her ass causing those big beautiful tits to jiggle delightfully just above my face. I played with them as she worked up a sweat. She fucked me hard. Then before I was ready she began to groan and I felt her pussy contract in anther orgasm. I let her almost finish it and then, while she was still humping and groaning frantically, I rolled her off of me and onto her back.

"Spread your legs bitch -- I'm not finished with you yet."

I fucked her hard -- like a whore -- and she fucked back eagerly. I pumped my load in less than a minute. Then I collapsed on her sweating body and rested, as she moaned and whispered loving words in my ear. After a few minutes I rolled off of her and we lay side by side resting.

"Damn! You're good!" She said. "You got me hooked already Barry. I'm your bitch now. I'll do anything you want. Use me! Have your fun with me! Tell me what you like. I'll do it!"

I had to keep reminding myself not to forget that I'm the cub and she's my boss. This is the way she liked sex, but I still worked for her and I'd better do it right!

Then she got up. She took off her garter belt and pulled off her hose.

"They look sexy," she said, "but I feel better starkers. Darling, let me mix you another ******"

As she started for the bar I said one word. I said it like a command.

"Shoes!"

She stopped instantly. Then spun around quickly and bent over to put on her spike heels. "Oh baby, I'm sorry. I'm ... I'm really sorry. I won't forget next time."

She posed for me to look her over -- shoulders back to show off her tits. Then changed her pose to show off her long legs.

"You've got great tits, baby, and great legs. Now you can get me that *****. Walk slow and swish your ass a little." She smiled, obviously grateful, when I said it.

Watching a naked woman in spike heels swish off to bring you a ***** does wonders for your pecker. We lay in bed for a while, sipping Glenlivet. Then I looked at my watch.

"Forget the time baby. It's Friday. You got no place to go. We got all weekend." She said it sweetly -- but I knew it was an order. From my boss.

I didn't get back to my apartment till very early Monday morning -- barely time to ****, shower, and shave and get to work. I got a very strange look from Betty when I passed her in the hall at work. She was waiting for me that night. She had been crying. Her hair and make-up were a mess.

"You want to tell me about it?" Betty said as I entered her apartment.

I couldn't tell whether she was angry or hurt or jealous or what. It was probably a combination of all three -- and more.

"Well, I ... you see ... "

"You were there all weekend! You didn't answer your home phone! When did you go home?"

"About 6 AM this morning."

"You bastard! Why did you stay there?"

"I couldn't leave. She wouldn't let me. I even had to fuck her this morning before I left."

"You fucked her all weekend?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about it."

"You don't want to know!"

"I do want to know! Tell me!"

"I ... well ... we ... I don't know where to start."

"Start with Friday." Betty said, impatiently.

"We went to a great new restaurant. Best wine on the list. Expensive, but she picked up the check."

Betty almost sneered, "I told you she would! That bitch is renting your pecker."

"She had on a clingy very sexy dress that showed off her tits and when we danced she just melted her body against mine and rubbed her pussy on my leg."

"The bitch! And you got a hard on!"

"Well ... I was ... she ... "

"Never mind."

"Well ... when we got home, she went in the bedroom and put on a negligee. She left her pants and bra in the bedroom and wore only hose and garter belt under it plus her spike heels. The negligee was ... you know ... kinda ... see through."

"The bitch! The horny bitch! Did her tits sag?"

"A little, but not much. When she took off the negligee, she put her hands behind her head and held her elbows back. Then those big tits looked really great."

*****! They're bigger than mine. Those tits gave you another hard on didn't they?"

"Well ... ah ... she ... "

"That's what I thought. Horny bitch! So then what?"

"I could tell she wanted to be submissive. Wanted me to take the lead."

"You bastard! I know how well you can do that! I love you when you do it to me. What'd you make her do?"

"I carried her to bed ... "

"Just like you did me on our vacation to Frisco! You bastard! Then what?"

"I made her get on top so I could play with her tits."

"Bastard! Bitch! Just like with me! I don't know who to get mad at first."

"Well ... then I fucked her with my hands up like this to play...."

"You don't have to draw me a picture damn it!"

"Sorry," I said.

"That bitch has been fucking who knows how many guys for over a quarter of a century. I'll bet that pussy of hers was loose."