Short Stories by JYM

Here's the standard disclaimer - if you are under 18 or if it is 21
where you live or if it is illegal for you to read this then don't -
Go away.
  If you are offended by explicit sex, B/d, lesbianism (or any
other -ism) then go away.  Otherwise, enjoy.

Comments to gj@sprynet.com  

The Beginning, F/F/F Bnd by JYM

   I never did find my niche, but it found me on a lonely road in
rural Massachusetts one hot August afternoon.  My father thought
forcing me into teaching would be just the thing to straighten me out,
so I guess the joke is on him.  He forced me to take a teaching job by
cutting off my allowance and threatening to write me out of his will.
Up until I started teaching I'd never done anything useful with my
college degree.  I was content to enjoy life - traveling the world,
partying, sleeping with every guy who caught my fancy, all the while
supported by my father's money.  It was inevitable that he'd get tired
of my shit and do something about it.  And he did.

   I arrived at Stone Ridge academy in the late summer of 1994.  It's
located in a small town in the Berkshires.  Stone Ridge is a place
where rich parents send problem kids to straighten them out.  I
suppose it's ironic that my father got me the teaching job there, but
maybe the old man does have a sense of humor.  My name is Dana Dawes
and I was a week shy of my 25th birthday when I arrived at Stone
Ridge.  I'm a very beautiful brunette with long sleek legs, a nice
figure, and big brown eyes.  I'm 34c-25-35, stand 5'7" and weigh about
123 pounds.

   My first year at Stone Ridge went pretty well, all things
considered.  It was hard to get used to living in a small town
(population less than 2000) and learning to deal with a bunch of kids
who act just like I did was no stroll in the park.  But I was shocked
to learn that I enjoyed teaching, still do in fact.  It's just my
personal circumstances that have changed.  I lived alone the first
year, in a room in one of the dorms - part of the job was supervising
the brats when they weren't in class.  I kept to myself pretty much
and concentrated on making a go of it.  I didn't want to get cut out
of daddy's will!

   One teacher who's much admired by the male population is Jill
Barrett, the girl's physical education teacher.  She's in her late
twenties, tall, blonde, athletic, and easily the most beautiful woman
I've ever seen.  And I've seen quite a few.  She was courteous and
helpful, but maintained a certain reserve, a distinct coolness.  At
first I thought it was me - another woman, beautiful, and a potential
rival.  But I soon realized that she treated everyone the same.

   I didn't get any vacation this year (1995) and spent the summer
teaching remedial classes.  I did get away for a couple of weekends,
but that was it.  In August, during a major heatwave, I drove to
Boston on a Friday night and spent the weekend with an old flame.  It
was great - dinner, a show, a Red Sox game, and some great sex.  It
was over all to soon and I drove back to Stone Ridge on Sunday
afternoon.  I wanted to rest before classes on Monday.  Remedial
classes are the pits!

   I was close to Stone Ridge, maybe five or six miles away, when a
tire blew out on a stretch of rural road and my car went into a ditch.
I was wearing my seatbelt and the airbag deployed, so I wasn't hurt,
but my car wasn't drivable.  I locked it up, put a note on the
windshield and started walking.  I'd walked a little over a mile, and
was sweating like crazy before a car passed and pulled over.  It was
Jill.  She stepped out of her car, a gray Accord, looking cool and
sophisticated in a halter-style tennis dress that displayed her
perfect figure and long, tanned legs.

   She leaned against the trunk with her arms folded and watched,
smiling, as I approached.  "Need a ride?" She inquired.  I nodded,
"God, yes!  It's so hot and there hasn't been another car since I've
been walking."

   "I saw your car back there.  What happened?"  She straightened up
as I approached.
   "Tire blew and it was in the ditch before I could react.  I'm so
happy you came along.  I don't think I could walk another mile in this
heat!"
   Jill smiled.  "It is hot, and so humid.  But if you want a ride
you're going to have to beg for one.  On your knees.  Nude.  Like the
slave you are."
   I stared at her in shock.  "What are you talking about?  I'm no
slave!  Are you crazy?"

   She just grinned.  "I've been watching you.  You need someone to
control your life.  Keep you on the straight-and-narrow so you can
inherit daddy's money."  Suddenly her hand shot out and she slapped me
across the face.  Hard.  She's 5'10" and very strong and the slap
rocked me back on my heels.  I touched my hand to my cheek and stared
at her with tears in my eyes.  She slapped me again.  "Now get those
clothes off and get down on your knees and beg!  Or you can walk back
and when you get there we can do this again!  Do you strip now or
later?"

   I dropped my eyes and whispered, "Now."  She slapped me again.
"You're first lesson - call me ma'am or Miss Jill or Mistress, and be
polite.  And answer fully.  Now try again."  Another slap reinforced
the lesson.

   I was crying, but I stifled my sobs and whispered, "I'll strip now,
ma'am."  She nodded and I started to unbutton my blouse.  She opened
the trunk of her Accord and told me to throw my clothes in as I
removed them.  My blouse was followed closely by my linen shorts and
my sandals.  Then I reached back and unhooked my bra.  "Very nice,"
Jill commented as my firm round tits tumbled free.  "I like your tan
lines."  I could feel myself blushing as I bent to push my panties
down over my hips.  Jill chuckled.  "I love a modest little slave!"
 After tossing my panties into the trunk, I went to my knees and
begged for a ride back to school.  She made me grovel on my belly in
the dirt and lick the dust off the toes of her tennis shoes.  I was
shocked to discover that I was excited.  Very excited.
She let me lick the toes of her sneakers for a couple of minutes
before nudging me away and telling me to crawl around to the passenger
door.  As I crawled around to the side of the car, she kicked me
between my legs.  Sobbing, I crawled faster to avoid more punishment.
She opened the door and I crawled in, remaining crouched on the floor
as ordered.  As she drove, she talked about what was expected of me.
I would move into her quarters to 'share' them.  Her roommate had just
left to take another job and nobody would think anything of it.  I
would be responsible for all of the cooking, cleaning, and laundry.  I
would also be responsible for the upkeep of the house, the yard, and
the automobile.  Mine would be sold and the money put into a CD.  I
would have a wardrobe for school.  Around the house, which was
surrounded by a high stockade fence and many evergreens and other
plantings, I would remain nude at all times.  Regardless of the
season.  I would have one jogging bra, one pair of running shorts and one
pair of shoes.  I would be expected to run five miles everyday before
6 a.m.

   When we arrived back at school she parked in a hidden spot behind
the gym and got my clothes out of the trunk.  She watched me dress and
then we got back into the car and she dropped me at the dorm.  I went
inside and packed.  Everything I owned fit into two large suitcases.
None of the furniture in the room was mine.  I called Jill when I was
ready and she came to pick me up.  Her quarters, owned by school, are
across campus on a hill near the gym.  The house is small, but cozy.
The exterior is brick and it was built in the '20s.  The stockade
fence was added a few years ago to give the occupant some privacy.  As
we approached the gate, Jill pressed a button on a remote and the gate
swung open.  Once inside, she pulled up to the garage and parked.  I
was trembling from a mixture of fear and excitement as I got out and
followed her into the house.

   My suitcases went right up to her room where I unpacked and allowed
her to sort through my clothes.  Dresses, skirts, and most blouses
went into the closet for school wear, many things went onto the floor
for the trash (all my panties, bras, pantyhose, and slacks) and some
went into a pile to be altered.  (Jeans - to be converted to shorts
for instance).  When that was done, Jill had me strip and shower.  The
shower was symbolic I guess - to cleanse me before I began my new life
as her slave.  When the shower was over she ordered me to kneel and
rest my head on the shower mat.  She prepared an enema while I watched
with fearful eyes.  She hung the bag from a hook sent in the ceiling
and then slipped the greased nozzle into my ass.  She sat beside me
and massaged my belly while the three quarts of soapy water filled my
bowels.  When the bag was empty, she removed the nozzle and replaced
it with a large, tight butt plug.  "You'll hold this for 15 minutes.
We'll go out into the back yard and I'll show you my gardens."
 I nodded.  "Yes, mistress.  Thank you."  I followed her down the
stairs, walking very slowly.  We paused in the kitchen and she had me
hold my arms out in front of me with my hands clasped while she tied
my wrists together.  Not tightly, but tight enough so that I couldn't
get out.  We walked around while she showed off her gardens.  They're
quite nice and well-planned.  After fifteen minutes had passed, she
took me over to the fence and had me stand on a wooden box, facing the
fence, and she looped the rope around my wrist over a hook in the top
of one of the fence posts.  Then she pulled the box out from under my
feet, leaving me hanging by my wrists, my toes barely touching the
ground.  Then she spread my buttocks and pulled the butt plug out.
She pushed one hand between me and the fence and massaged my belly.  I
turned and whispered, "Please, don't make me do this!  Please, let me
go to the bathroom.  Please mistress, please don't humiliate me like
this!"

   Jill grinned.  "But that's the whole purpose.  To humiliate you.  To
make you realize that you have no privacy, that your a slave. Now be a
good girl and expel it.  You do want to be a good girl, don't you?"
Then she slapped me on the ass.  "Or would you rather be persuaded
with a good hard spanking?"

   "No, mistress, I don't want a spanking.  I want to be a good girl."
Then, weeping in shame, I expelled the contents of my bowels.  I felt
the water and shit splash on my legs and wished I could crawl into a
hole and die.  But, at the same time, I felt a perverted sense of
satisfaction - I was a good girl and wouldn't be spanked.  Jill washed
me with a hose and then let me down.  Then she took me up to the
patio, gagged me, and bent me over a chair.  I screamed into the gag
as she beat me with a braided leather belt.  When it was over, I
crawled to her on my belly, sobbing, and licked her bare feet while I
begged her to let me prove to her that I could be a good slave.

   She crouched and ruffled my hair.  "The best way to prove that
would be to stretch out on the table with your legs spread and beg to
be pussy-whipped."  I stared up at her in shocked disbelief.  A minute
later I was on the table, legs spread.  "Please, Miss Jill, whip my
pussy.  Please, whip it hard."  I lay there and took ten hard strokes
between my legs.  I sobbed and begged, but I didn't move.  After it
was over, I went inside on my hands and knees, a form of locomotion
that I was to get well acquainted with over the next few months.

   I was sent up to shower again, and Jill made me go up the stairs on
my knees, hands clasped behind my neck.  It was hard!  Especially with
her behind me, whipping me along with that damn braided belt!  I was
sobbing again by the time I got to the top.  My knees ached for hours.
The stairs are hardwood and not carpeted.  This time, before my
shower, my long hair was clipped short and I was shaved.  After the
shower, when I was dry and had brushed my teeth, I went into the
bedroom and found Jill sitting on the bed cross-legged and nude.  Her
body was fantastic - firm, pointy tits and those long beautiful legs.
She was shaved too and as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed I
knew what was coming.  I had tried sex with a couple of girls in
college and it didn't do anything for me, so I wasn't a virgin in that
respect.  But to be expected to provide continually sexual services as
a slave was something new.

   I went to my knees in the doorway and approached Jill with downcast
eyes.  "Please, mistress, may I satisfy you with my tongue?"  She
sighed and stroked my hair.  "Such a good slave.  Yes, you may satisfy
me with your tongue.  Begin at my feet."  I crouched and licked and
kissed each toe on both feet.  Then I worked my way up her lovely
calves, paying a good deal of attention to her delicately sculpted
knees.  Even more time was spent licking and kissing her long firm
thighs.  By the time I ran my tongue up the furrow between her legs
she was dripping.  She moaned with pleasure as I teased her with my
tongue.  "Oh God!  You are a great little cunt-licker!"  I slipped my
hands under her buttocks and lifted her so that I had full access to
her sex.  After a minute or two I began to tease her anus with the tip
of one finger.  When she pushed against my finger, I nipped her clit
and drove my finger deep into her tight ass.  She threw her head back
and screamed in pleasure as her orgasm tore through her.

   She rewarded me by strapping on a huge dildo and raping my virgin
asshole as I whimpered and begged.  God, it was so right!  And that
was only the beginning of my slavery.

   On Monday, I taught a remedial class wearing a clingy gray dress,
white thigh highs, and black medium-heeled pumps.  The way my breasts
bounced when I moved made it clear to all that I was braless.  And I
heard one girl say to another, "Look, no panty lines.  She must be
nude under that dress."  It was so deliciously humiliating.  After
class one of the girls, a cute little redhead, stayed after to ask
some questions.  Something she'd never done before.  Jill had ordered
me not to resist if any of the girls made advances, but I was not to
initiate anything.  The redhead, Amy, was wearing shorts and a cropped
T-shirt.  She's a small girl, no more than 5'4", but she has a great
little body and she's pretty - big green eyes and lots of freckles.

   As I answered her questions, she casually reached out and put her
hand on my ass.  I glanced at her, but didn't say a word.  She went
over and closed the door.  I heard the lock click before she turned
away from the door.  I stood by my desk and stared at her in silence
as she walked back from the door.  "Are you wearing anything under
your dress?"  She smiled as she spoke because she knew the answer
already.  I shook my head.  She grinned.  "Show me."
 I stooped and caught the hem of my dress and lifted it smoothly
over my head.  I folded it neatly and put it down on the desk.  Then I
stood with my hands at my sides and stared at the far wall while Amy
stroked me.  She cupped my tits and squeezed them gently.  I sighed
and closed my eyes.  She teased my nipples erect with the balls of her
thumbs.  "Do you like this?"

   I nodded.  "Oh, yes!"
   "And this?"  I sighed as her hand worked between my legs.  "Oh God,
yessss!"

   "Is it true that you're Jill's slave?"  My eyes opened in shock.
Amy giggled.  "Jill told me you were.  Do you think I'd do this if she
hadn't put me up to it?  Now get up and squat on your desk - knees
apart."  I obeyed.  And moaned with pleasure as she worked her small
hand into my cunt and fist-fucked me.  My orgasm was incredible!  Then
I was down on my knees and eating her delicious young pussy.  She was
bare and wet and so eager.  I knew that life at Stone Ridge was going
to be memorable from then on.  Amy kissed me before she left and
whispered, "Next time I fist your ass."  I shivered and whispered,
"Please....."

   And she did.  Many times.

Blackmailed into Slavery,  F/F Bnd - heavy

   I had just ended a long D/s relationship with a delightful slave
when I ran into Dee again.  I had taken my slave as far as she could
go, at least with me, and had released her to seek a new master or
mistress.  I felt she was really in need of the latter as she was
interesting in exploring some aspects of her nature that only another
woman could explore with her.  I wished her luck and we parted
friends.

   It was a few days later that I ran into Dee in the cafeteria at the
office.  Dee and I had worked together for more than a year.  Then she
had accepted a new job in another division.  I still saw her
occasionally, but not that often.  I was reading a report when she
walked by and gave me a cheery "Hello."  As I watched her walk away,
admiring her trim figure and sleek shapely legs, it suddenly hit me
that she would make an ideal slave.  And it would be a real challenge
to enslave her, one worthy of my efforts.

   At the time, Dee was thirty-two, married, the mother of two.  She
was about 5'4", vivacious and pretty, with a compact build, sandy
brown hair worn rather short, and brown eyes.  I knew a little about
her background and I knew her to be a somewhat prim and proper woman,
a devoted wife and mother.  But I sensed a streak of sensuality that
she hadn't suppressed completely.  And a hint of submissiveness.  Or
was that wishful thinking?  Time would tell.

   Over the next couple of months I made a concerted effort to seduce
Dee.  To no avail, nothing worked.  She was steadfast and loyal,
although flattered by my efforts.  I was about to give up when a
misdirected fax message delivered her into my hands.  Not overnight, I
had to do some further investigation and obtain some addition
documents but, within another month I was ready and she was mine for
the taking.  The fax by itself was harmless, but it had triggered a
memory and further digging had uncovered an ongoing scam that had cost
the company a lot of money.  Each incident was small and slipped
through the cracks, but over the years it added up to a hefty sum.  A
nice addition to one's income.

   I called Dee one Friday morning in early July and asked her if she
could come to my office that afternoon at four to discuss a new
opportunity.  She was hesitant because she normally leaves work by
3:30.  I told her I understood.  "Oh, by the way, have you ever heard
of a company called Precision Products?"  I heard a gasp followed by a
short silence.  Then Dee told me she'd meet me at 4:00 p.m.

   I was ready and waiting when she arrived.  She sat in the chair by
my desk and crossed her legs, showing her dimpled knees and a generous
length of smooth, firm thigh.  I handed her a copy of the original fax
and asked her to read it.  I sat back and watched, enjoying my view of
her legs, aware that I would soon see much more of her.  She read the
fax and set it down on my desk.  "So, what's this about?  I don't see
any mention of Precision Products, whoever they are."

   I had to admire her.  "Nice try, a very nice try.  But I've got
you.  Show me your tits.  Now!"

   She jumped to her feet and headed for my door, sputtering that she
was going to report me to personnel.  "OK, tell them about Janice
Markham and Pioneer Cleaning too."  She stopped dead in her tracks and
turned around.  I waved a folder and set it down on top of the fax.
"It's all in here.  The whole story.  All five years of it."

   Her shoulders slumped and she started to walk back to my desk.
"Stop, go back and lock my door.  I don't want to be disturbed.  And
call your husband, tell him you'll be working late.  Until about 9:00,
maybe later.  That should give us plenty of time."  She sat down and
made the call.  When she put the phone down she gave me a bleak look
and asked what was next.  "I don't want you to go to jail and I don't
want you fired.  Sign the top paper in that folder and hand it to me.
Then you will stop the scam.  And for the next year you will be my
loyal, willing sex slave.  At the end of the year I'll give you the
originals of the papers in that folder and you'll be free.  Otherwise
you can delight the bull dykes up at state prison for the next 7-10
years.  Your choice."

   She stared at me in silence for a moment.  Then she opened the
folder, read the top page, and hastily scrawled her signature across
it.  It was a simple confession of her crime and an agreement to
accept a year of slavery as punishment.  Incriminating for both of us,
binding us together for a year.  I signed it and made her a copy,
placing the original in my office safe.  Then I sat down and gave her
a long look that caused her to blush.  "I believe I asked you to show
me your tits, didn't I?"

   She hesitated, then nodded.  "Yes," she whispered.

   I leaned over and slapped her across the face.  "Yes, what?  Be
respectful.  And now I want to see more of you.  Stand up and remove
your blouse and skirt."

   She rubbed her cheek and blinked.  "Yes, sir."  She stood up and
slowly unbuttoned her blouse, slipping it off finally and laying it
across the back of the chair she'd been sitting in.  Then she
unsnapped her skirt and eased it off, laying it carefully atop the
blouse.  When she straighten up I caught my breath.  She was wearing a
plain cotton bra and matching panties.  But instead of pantyhose she
was wearing white thigh highs.  She was nicely tanned.  Her hips were
a trifle wide, but otherwise her body was perfect.  She obviously
worked hard to stay in shape.  Her stomach was flat and her navel deep
and perfectly round.

   I gestured and she turned to give me a view of her back.  Nice
broad shoulders to balance her hips.  A firm, full ass.  And her
thighs looked as good from the back as they had from the front.  I
told her to remain facing away while she removed her bra.  Her hands
came up and unhooked it and it joined the growing pile of clothes on
the chair.  Then I had her turn around slowly, revealing full, firm
tits with hard, pointy brown nipples.  Just the slightest trace of
sag, enough to make her tits more erotic than if they'd been perfect.
She was a real woman, not a plastic goddess from the magazines.  Her
panties came next.  I was mildly surprised to see that her pubic bush
was wild and untrimmed.  That didn't go with the tanlines that showed
on her body.  I asked her about it and she blushed again.  "Sir, my
husband likes to see pussy hair when I wear a bikini.  The children
are too young to notice."

   I smiled.  "Do you show pussy hair on public beaches?"

   She hesitated before nodding and whispering, "Yes sir."

   "How do you feel about that?"

   She glanced toward the window before answering.  "It makes me feel
like a slut.  And it excites me.....sir."

   I told her to keep her stockings and shoes - medium heeled black
pumps - on and turn around.  When she was standing with her back to me
I told her to spread her legs a comfortable distance apart and then
bend forward from the waist until her torso was parallel with the
floor.  When she had done so, I told her to reach back and spread
herself so that I could get a look at her asshole.  She obediently
reached back and spread her buttocks.  Her anus was a tightly pucker
little ring, dusting pink shading to beige/brown.

   "Have you been fucked in the ass?"

   She shook her head but I caught the tiniest hesitation.  She was
lying.  I let it ride for the moment.  I had her turn back toward me
and squat with her feet together and her knees spread.  I showed her
how to place her hands on her thighs and told her that that was
position #1.  "Remember it.  When I snap my fingers and say 'one' this
is the position you will assume."

   She nodded.  "Yes, sir, I'll remember."

   I had a sudden thought.  I leaned and slipped my hand between her
legs.  She was sopping.  I held my wet finger in front of her mouth
and she licked it clean without being prompted.  "You like the
humiliation, don't you?"

   Another nod.  "Yes, sir, I do.  Very much."

   "Good.  You'll get plenty of it over the course of the next year."
I stood up then and unzipped my pants.  My cock was hard and I stepped
close and told her to suck me.  She took me in her mouth and gave me a
wonderful blow job.  Just as I was about to cum, I pulled out and shot
my load over her face, tits, and belly.  She took it with her eyes
wide open.  I let her squat there while my cum dried on her body.
Then I told her to put her blouse and skirt on and we'd go somewhere
more private.  "Where I can hear you cry when I spank you."

   She dressed without a word and tucked her underwear into her purse.
It was after 5:00 by then and we didn't see anyone except a female
security guard as we walked across the lobby to the exit.  I pointed
out my car and told her to follow me to my place.  I told her to park
in my garage as I had an extra space.  When we got to my house I
opened one garage door and she pulled inside.  I parked on the
driveway in front of the middle of the three doors.  She removed her
skirt and blouse and left them in her car as I had instructed.  She
got out of her car and walked forward until she was standing in the
doorway.  She didn't seem to mind that she was visible to anyone
passing by.  Not easily visible because my driveway is 150 feet long,
but visible just the same.

   I stopped and admired the way she looked standing there in stocking
and shoes, dried cum on her face and body.  My house is located in a
wealthy suburb.  The houses are large and set on large, fairly private
lots.  My property is extensively and expensively landscaped.  I've
done a lot of the work myself and I'm proud of it.  I had Dee remove
her heels and then I took her on a tour of the grounds.  Before we
left the garage, I put leather cuffs on her wrists and cuffed them
behind her back.  Then I put a leather collar around her neck.  I
snapped a leash on the collar and led her out.  She was blushing but
she didn't protest.  Not a peep.

   But I had made a call from my car phone and, as planned, my
neighbor, Sara, was out and about.  Dee hung back as soon as we walked
around to the side of the house and saw Sara coming toward us.  Sara
is a tall, thirtyish redhead, never married and wealthy in her own
right.  We met a few days after she bought the house next door to
mine.  Later, after she was settled, we had dinner and discovered a
mutual interest in D/s.  Sara is domme and a lesbian, so our interests
coincide more than if she was hetero.  She's also a stunning beauty -
long red hair, jade green eyes, a slim supple body with small firm
tits and long beautiful legs.  She was barefoot, wearing shorts and a
little cropped top.  Sara and I fuck occasionally, but the basis of
our friendship is our interest in D/s and our willingness to share our
slaves.  Her current slave, Joanna, is a college senior.  She's just
21, a long, limber California blonde.  I knew that Joanna was due back
from a quick visit home and was looking forward to putting her with
Dee.

   But the first priority was to teach Dee some manners.  I jerked the
leash and pulled her forward, forcing her to her knees in front of
Sara.  I'd given Sara a quick rundown over the phone and she knew
enough to proceed.  She took Dee's leash and wrapped it around her
left hand.  She had a wide, thick leather strap in her right hand.
And Dee felt it across her firm buttocks a moment later.  I was ready.
When Dee's mouth opened I stuffed a ball gag in, cutting off her
scream.  Then, after it was secure, Sara gave her a good hard dozen
across her ass.  After the punishment was over, we took Dee out to my
patio and put her on her knees.  Tears streamed down her face as she
looked back and forth from me to Sara.  "Sara, do you want to whip her
tits now or have her eat you?"

   Sara grinned.  "Tough choice.  I wonder if the slut has an opinion?
She leaned forward and removed the ball gag.

   Dee, still sobbing, whimpered, "Please, let me eat you!  Please!"

   Sara nodded and lifted herself off the seat long enough to remove
her shorts.  Then she pulled her top off.  I sat and enjoyed the sight
of two lovely nude women having sex.  One on her knees, eating pussy
for the first time.  But not the last.  Not by a long shot!  After
Sara was brought to a very satisfying orgasm, she leaned forward and
licked her juices from Dee's lips and chin.  "Now, Dee, you have
another choice.  You can have your tits whipped, twenty hard ones, or
you can walk over and jump into the deep end of the pool."

   Dee glanced at me but I shrugged and she knew that I wouldn't help
her.  Then she got up and walked over to the edge of the pool and
jumped in.  Her hands were still cuffed behind her back.  Sara glanced
at me and chuckled.  "The bitch really doesn't want to have her tits
whipped!"  We walked over and stood watching Dee struggle in the deep
end.  She kept herself afloat by kicking hard but it was obvious that
she was slowly drowning.  She didn't call for help, just stared at us
as she struggled and lost.  As she was going down for probably the
last time, Sara jumped in and pulled her to safety.  As Dee crouched
on the edge of the pool, on all fours, gasping for breath, Sara
slipped a hand between her legs and began to masturbate her.  Dee
lifted her head and stared at me with a strangely intent look on her
face as Sara skillfully masturbated her to orgasm.  As her orgasm hit,
Dee threw her head back and whimpered with pleasure.

   Later, with Dee again on her knees in front of us, Sara glanced at
me and then back at Dee.  "Slave," she asked, "How long has it been
since you've had an orgasm?"

   Dee looked at me and I nodded.  "Three years," she whispered.

   Sara glanced at me and arched one brow.  Then back at Dee.  "And
how long, slave, since you've been fucked?"

   Dee shrugged.  "Three years."

   I was stunned.  I asked her to explain.

   "My husband doesn't want any more children and he refuses to
practice birth control.  It's against his religion.  So, the last time
I got fucked was the last time I was pregnant."

   Sara and I glanced at each other.  This was an interesting
development, a very interesting development indeed!  Sara turned to
Dee again and asked her if she wanted to have sex again.

   Dee glanced back and forth from Sara to me and then back to Sara.
"Yes, please!  Oh God, yes!  I want it!"

   Sara leaned forward and cupped Dee's full, firm tits.  She squeezed
them gently, running her thumbs over Dee's hard nipples.  Dee arched
her back, moaning, and pressed her tits against Sara's hands.  I had a
sudden thought and I asked Sara to sit back for a moment.  She nodded
and released Dee's tits.  I got up and crouched behind Dee, releasing
the clip holding her cuffs together, freeing her wrists.  She glanced
over her shoulder, a quizzical look on her face.  I patted her on the
back.  "I'm sorry Dee, I made a mistake.  You're free to go.  I'll
give you the papers Monday."  Dee got this look on her face like a kid
who's just had the cookie jar snatched away.  I glanced at Sara with a
look of triumph.  I was right, Dee wanted slavery because of the sex.

   "Please, Jack, no!  Please...."  Her voice trailed off.

   Sara reached out and stroked her.  "Dee, what do you want?  How do
you feel about being a slave now?  I know you were blackmailed into it
but you seem to have changed quickly.  Explain it to us."

   Dee took a deep breath.  "Yes, it's true that I was blackmailed
into it.  But now I'm a slave.  I'm not responsible for anything that
happens to me.  Or anything I'm forced to do.  I'm free to have sex.
A lot of sex.  I don't want to give that up!"

   Sara nodded.  "What about your children and your husband?"

   Dee sighed.  "I don't want to lose my children.  My husband?  I
don't care any more.  Well, I do care, but I want this!"

   Sara cupped Dee's tits and fondled them gently.  "There will be
pain, lots of pain.  Whippings.  Humiliation.  Sex, lots of sex.  With
men and women.  You'll be pierced.  Branded.  Tortured.  Fucked in the
ass.  The mouth.  Pissed on.  Things you can't imagine."

   Dee shook her head.  "I still want it.  I hate the thought of some
of the things you mentioned, but I want the sex.  And the humiliation.
I just have one request."

   Sara glanced up at me.  "What is that, Dee?"

   Dee took a deep breath.  "When you're done with me.  At the end of
the year or two years or five.....I want you to hang me.  My favorite
fantasy has been about hanging.  I want to hang nude and die slowly.
Very slowly.  In agony."

   Sara leaned forward and kissed Dee on the mouth.  "I promise you
that you will hang someday.  And die very slowly.  In great agony.
Your nude body will be oiled and gleaming as you are led to your
death.  You will be fucked repeatedly before you hang.  And you will
be fucked while you hang.  Your death will take hours."

                The End

The Business Trip, F/F, Bnd, Heavy

   I was just a few days shy of my twenty-third birthday when I left
on the first important business trip of my career.  I didn't want to
go, but I had no choice since it was my first big assignment and I
didn't want to refuse it and end my career before it even got started.
The main reason I didn't want to go was my wedding which was less than
a month away.  My birthday was a minor consideration at that point.

   My name is Samantha Tyler, Sam to my friends, and I was fresh out
of college and working at my first real job.  I won't go into detail
because it's boring and because I don't want to take the time to do
so.  I'm a slim, athletic woman with brown hair, hazel eyes, and
olive/tan skin.  I'm 5 foot seven and weigh 122 pounds.  I have a
pretty nice figure but my long, slim legs are my best feature.

   The trip went well right up until it was time to fly home.  It
wasn't a major success, but it wasn't a failure by any stretch of the
imagination.  The first part of the trip went fine, but then my
connecting flight was cancelled because of poor weather conditions on
the East Coast and I was stranded in Connecticut.  No chance of a
flight out until the following day and, as a few phone calls revealed,
no chance of a hotel room anyplace near the airport.

   The airport itself was packed and a seat in any of the bars or
restaurants was as precious as gold.  I wandered around for a while
and finally found myself in a little bar at the far end of the
terminal.  I didn't see any place to sit other than tables full of
guys and I'd resigned myself to going back to sit near the gate when a
soft voice from behind me asked, "Would you like to join me?"

   I turned and saw a redheaded woman in her early thirties smiling at
me from behind a small table for two.  There was an empty seat and I
sank into it with a grateful sigh.  The redhead held her hand out and
we shook.  "My name is Sara Hill."

   "Hi," I said, "Samantha Tyler."

   "Hi, Sam.  Care for some wine?"  She gestured at the bottle sitting
on the table.

   I nodded.  "Love some, thanks."

   She waved and a harried barmaid brought another glass.  I asked her
to bring another bottle of the same wine.

   It turned out to be a wonderful White Zinfandel that tasted
delicious.  Of course, at that point Hemlock would have probably
tasted delicious.  Sara and I discussed the weather and our current
situation for a while and then we talked about our reasons for
traveling.  I told her about my job and she told me that she was an
attorney with one of the Federal Agencies in Washington.

   By the time we finished the second bottle of wine I was feeling no
pain.  I put some money on the table and thanked Sara for sharing it
with me.  "I guess I'll go and try to find someplace to put my head
down for a few hours."

   Sara grinned at me and said, "Don't rush off in such a hurry.  Then
she held up a plasic keycard and I recognized the name of a national
hotel chain.  "I have a room upstairs in the hotel.  If you like you
can use the spare bed.  You're in no shape to spend the night alone in
the airport!"

   I hesitated and then accepted with a smile.  I waited while she
counted out some money, then followed her out of the bar and down the
concourse to the hotel.  I was pretty drunk and leaned against her in
the elevator.  When we got to the top floor, she guided me off the
elevator and down the hall to her room.  She got me inside and I made
a beeline for the bathroom.  I got there just in time and crouched
over the toilet as I threw up.

   I glanced up and saw Sara standing in the bathroom doorway, an
enigmatic smile on her face.  "I'm sorry," I whispered, "I'm not used
to drinking."

   She grinned.  "I'd kind of guessed that.  Are you okay?"

   I nodded.  "I think so."

   "Good.  Now lets get you in the shower."

   I stood up, shakily, and she started to undress me.  I stood there
and let her strip my clothes off.  Then she helped me into the tub and
turned the water on.  I screamed as a jet of ice-cold water poured
over my body.  Sara held my arm in a tight grip and made me stand
under the cold water until I was shivering violently.  Then she turned
it off and handed me a towel.  I stepped out of the tub and she took
another towel and began rubbing my back briskly.

   When I was dry, but not much warmer, she guided me out of the
bathroom and into one of the double beds.  I saw her disappear back
into the bathroom and dozed off as the water started running again.  I
was half-asleep, but still shivering, when she slipped into bed with
me.  I protested when she slipped her hand between my legs, but she
was stronger and I was still groggy from the wine.  She threw the
covers off and made me get up on my knees.  She forced me to spread my
knees and clasp my hands behind my neck.  When I resisted, she slapped
me.  I knelt there, sobbing, while she masturbated me to orgasm.  It
was humiliating and I felt ashamed even as my body betrayed me.

   The night seemed endless.  She kissed me and fondled my breasts and
then masturbated me again.  And again.  I begged her to stop, but she
paid no attention.  At one point, I put up another brief fight but she
pulled me across her lap and spanked me until I was sobbing.  Then she
put me on my back and began to lick my thighs.  I closed my eyes and
moaned as her tongue pushed between my labia.  She brought me to
orgasm at least three times with her tongue.  When she finally stopped
I fell into a fitful sleep.  The next morning when I woke up she was
gone.  I showered and dressed and flew home in a daze.

   I called the wedding off a few days later and returned my
engagement ring.  A week after that I was fired from my job after a
shouting match with my boss.  Two days after I was fired I got an
envelope in the mail.  Inside was a plane ticket to Washinton and a
slip of paper with an address written on it.   I gave the key to my
apartment back to my landlady and told her she could dispose of my
personal belongings and clothes in any way she saw fit.  I closed my
bank accounts and sold my car.

   I arrived in Washington on the eighth of July, a hot muggy day.  I
was wearing a cropped t-shirt, denim shorts, and sandals.  I had one
small carry-on bag with a few personal effects and a change of
underwear.  I took a taxi out to the address I'd been given.  It
turned out to be a large brick colonial in Georgetown, in one of the
wealthier areas.  Sara answered the door when I rang the bell.

   She smiled when she saw me and invited me inside.  I shook my head.
"First, I want you to promise me something."

   "What's that?"

   I took a deep breath.  "I want you to promise to kill me when
you're done with me."

   She smiled.  "Is that all?  Of course.  I'll take you to Virgina,
out into the woods, and you'll hang naked, slowly strangling, while I
sit and sip some wine."  She stepped aside and I walked into her house
to begin my short life as her lez toy.

          The End

A Different Story by JYM

    When the story I'm about to tell you happened, I was just
twenty-one, engaged to be married, and desperately unhappy.  Jeff and
I had been engaged for six months and I knew that I'd made a major
mistake but I didn't have any idea of what to do about it.  The
wedding was planned for October and it was already late September.
Both families were terribly pleased with the match and I felt as if I
was on a train rushing toward a river crossing, knowing that the
bridge was out.

    I'd grown up in a very sheltered environment, the youngest
child, and only daughter, of a wealthy family.  My parents were in
their 40s when I was born and my mother had given up hope of having a
daughter.  So they doted on me and my three older brothers were very
protective.  Jeff had taken over the role of protector soon after we
started dating during my junior (his senior) year.

    Before you can understand how I felt, you need to know a
little more about me.  When I was thirteen, I spent the summer at a
camp in Maine and had a wonderful time once I got over being homesick.
I developed a crush on one of the counselors, a college girl.  She was
one of those big tan athletic girls that California seems to churn out
like hotcakes.  At the time, I was a skinny little redheaded kid with
green eyes and lots of freckles.  Diana, the counselor, realized how I
felt after she caught me spying on her when she was in the shower and
she sat me down and had a long talk with me.  She told me my feelings
weren't bad, just inappropriate at that time and in that place.  The
talk didn't make my crush go away, but it made me feel better about myself.

    When I got back home I surpressed my feelings about other
girls and conformed.  After all, I was in junior high and conformity
was the name of the game.  And conformity ruled my life through high
school and college.  I met Jeff and fell in love, or convinced myself
that I had, and eventually we got engaged.  Jeff treated me like a
prize that he'd won in a game, a game that I didn't understand.  I had
grown into quite a beauty, something that I was quite aware of but
took no special pride in - it was just a lucky combination of genes.

    At twenty-one, I was tall, lithe, and athletic.  I still had
the freckles, but they didn't seem to be the plague they had been in
junior high.  Other things drew attention away from them - my long
sleek legs, my high firm breasts, and my tight butt.  I played soccer,
basketball, and softball in high school, but in college I concentrated
on basketball because several schools offered me athletic scholarships
in that sport.  I would have preferred soccer, but I knew I wasn't
good enough to play soccer at the college level.

    In September, Jeff made plans to drive down to Long Island to
visit one of his frat brothers who had just gotten married.  He asked
me to go along and I didn't have an excuse so I went.  It turned out
to be the best decision I ever made.  Not that it seemed that way at
the time.  We had a nice visit with Jeff's friend and his wife.  They
seemed happy and we had a good time.  We stayed late and it was almost
midnight on Saturday when we finally started back.  Jeff was hungry,
so we stopped at an all-night diner on the island.

    There was a yellow bus in the parking lot along with a few
cars, but the place wasn't too crowded.  There was a girl's high
school soccer team in the diner and a dozen other people scattered
among the booths and tables.  The soccer team, according to snatches
of conversation I overheard, was on it's way home from a tournament
and had been delayed because of problems with the bus.

    Well, to make a long story shorter, the diner was held up by
four men wearing stocking masks and carrying sawed-off shotguns.  They
herded everyone into one corner of the diner and demanded that all
wallets, purses, and jewelery be deposited in a pillowcase.  One of
them was cleaning out the register while another passed around the
pillow case.  A third waited by the door and the fourth, the leader,
stood on a table and kept watch over everyone.  When they had
everything I thought they'd leave, but the leader had other ideas.  He
glanced around and called out to one of his friends - something about
seeing something he'd always wanted to see.  His friend snickered and
said, "Yeah, I'd like to see that too."

    He looked us over slowly and then said, "I've always wanted to
see two women go at it.  Two real women."  And he pointed at one of
the soccer players, a tall blonde with a nice body and long pretty
legs.  "You, get over here and start undressing."  She glanced at her
coach with a frightened look and then moved forward slowly, coming to
a stop near the table he'd indicated.  She stood there for a moment
and the crouched to untie her sneakers. The leader looked around
again, but I didn't shrink back like I might have done if I wasn't
already convinced that he'd made up his mind already to chose me.

    Sure enough, his glance came to rest on me and he said, "Okay,
red, get your ass up here and start undressing.

    Jeff tensed and held my hand tightly but I pulled away and
whispered, "Relax, it will be okay.  I don't want anyone to get hurt."

    I walked over and stood next to the blonde.  She was already
down to her bra and panties.  She paused and glanced at me.  I was
surprised when she smiled shyly.  I nodded and smiled in return as I
kicked my shoes off and unsnapped my jeans.  My mind was whirling.  I
was going to have sex with another woman, something I'd fantasized
about for years, but in my wildest fantasies I'd never pictured doing
it in front of a crowd!

    As I pushed my jeans down I glanced at the blonde and
whispered, "What's your name?  Mine is Kate."

    She glanced quickly at the leader and then whispered, "Emma."

    I stepped out of my jeans and then pulled my sweater off over
my head.  Emma unhooked her bra and I saw that she had small, pretty
breasts tipped with pointy little pink nipples.  I unhooked my bra and
dropped it on top of my jeans, freeing my firm, pear-shaped breasts.
Then I skimmed my panties down and stepped out of them.  I glanced at
Emma and saw that she was looking at me.  Her pubic mound was covered
by a thick growth of taffy-colored hair.  It looked as if it had never
been trimmed, a contrast to my neatly trimmed bush.

    The leader looked over and said, "Hurry up, we don't have all
night.  Get up on that table and get going.  The table in question was
a big round table that normally seated eight.  It was empty except for
a napkin holder, salt and pepper, and a hold for packets of sugar.  I
picked them up and carried them to another table, totally consicous of
my nudity but not caring that I was exposed to a bunch of strangers.
When I turned and walked back, Emma was crouched on the table with a
funny look on her face - not frightened, not exactly happy either, but
kind of ...... I guess expectant is the best way to put it.

    I climbed onto the table and faced Emma, both of us on our
knees.  The leader growled at us to hurry up, so I leaned forward and
kissed Emma on the lips.  I was surprised when her tongue flickered
out and probed into my mouth.  I drew back a little and we stared at
each other in silent wonder for a moment.  Then we hugged and kissed,
and everything else faded away as we rubbed against each other.  Her
hands glided down across my back and she stroked my buttocks.  I
moaned into her mouth, where our tongues were battling each other for
control.  I finally surrendered and let her take control.  She cupped
my breasts and teased my nipples erect with her thumbs while I moaned
with pleasure.

    "Hurry up," the leader shouted, "Turn around and start eating
each other!"

    Emma pulled back and I stretched out on my back.  She swung
around and straddled me, positioning herself right over my face.  As
she lowered herself onto my mouth I smelled the musky scent of an
aroused woman for the first time in my life and I knew then that Jeff
and I were through, no matter how things turned out.  There was no
hesitation on my part, I reached up and grabbed her hips, guiding her
down until I could reach her with my tongue.  I ran my tongue the
length of her slit and felt her hips move in my hands.  She thrust
forward and pressed herself against my mouth.  I pushed her up a
little and began to lick her with hard strokes of my tongue, pushing
it between her labia and marveling at the sensuous slickness of her inner
lips.

    At the same time, her tongue was probing timidly at my outer
lips.  I moaned and lifted myself a little to show her that I was
enjoying it.  I don't know if this encouragement was the reason, but
her tongue began to move probe deeper and with more force.  I paused
for a moment, giving her hips and encouraging squeeze, and glanced
hastily to my left.  The others were all standing around watching
avidly.  I saw one woman lick her lips and glance nervously at her
husband.  Emma's teammates were all watching too.  One girl had her
hand down the front of her sweats.  That's all I had time to see.  I
turned my attention back to Emma's tight, wet cunt and found that she
was now sopping wet.  She was delicious - her juices had a tangy sweet
taste that I loved.  We continued to eat each other for several
minutes.  Then someone shouted, "They're gone!"  I turned my head and
saw that the leader had disappeared from his perch on the next table.

    Emma moved away, reluctantly I thought, and I sat up.
Everyone had rushed to the front to see if the robbers had indeed
left.  Emma glanced at me and smiled.  Then she picked up her panties
and slipped them on.  I dressed too, hurriedly as people began to turn
back from the front windows.  Someone called the police and the next
few hours were spent down at the police station being interviewed over and
over.

    At one point, about 3 a.m. I think, I had a short break where
I was left alone.  I asked for a cup of coffee and a young policewoman
took me down to their canteen and bought me a cup from the vending
machine.  Jeff was in there, sitting alone at a table.  He walked over
and said, "How could you humiliate me like that?"

    I sipped my coffee and glanced around to make sure that the
policewoman was still there in case he lost it completely.  "Humiliate
you?  I'm sorry, but I was the one that was forced to strip and
perform."

    He got red in the face and took a step toward me.  "But you
enjoyed it, you slut!"

    I slipped his ring off and tossed it in his face.  "Yes, I
did.  She turned me on more than you ever have!"  I turned away and
heard him scream with rage.  I turned back just in time to see the
policewoman wrestle him to the floor.

    She glanced up at me.  "You'd better go back upstairs.  I'll
keep this guy here for a few minutes."

    I nodded and went back upstairs to the interview room.  I
never saw Jeff again after that night.  When the police were finally
done with me, they offered me a ride to the train station or the bus
station.  I chose the bus station and the same young policewoman gave
me a ride.  She wished me good luck when she dropped me off and I
thanked her and then went inside to get a ticket on the next bus to
Boston.  I was going to miss a full day of classes, but I was so tired
and confused that I didn't really care.  The bus ride seemed endless
and I slept fitfully.  When I finally go back to my apartment I
collapsed on my bed and fell asleep.  I didn't wake up until my
roommate came in that afternoon.  She wanted to know why I was so late
in getting back, so I made up some story about car trouble and that
seemed to satisfy her.

    I spent the next few days getting back into the routine of
classes, papers, and all the rest of the rituals of college life.
Then, when I had a chance to think, I stared trying to figure out what
I was going to do.  I knew that I wanted to see Emma again.  Just to
talk.  Trouble was, I didn't have the slightest idea of how to contact
her.  All I had was her first name and the name of the high school
that she attended.  I knew the school was in New England or upstate
New York, but I didn't know how to go about finding it.

    A couple of weeks passed and then I got a phone call.  It was
the policewoman who'd bought me coffee and driven me to the bus
station.  She told me her name was Shannon and cautioned me against
mentioning her call to anyone.  "I could lose my job.  But someone
called here to find out about you and the call came to me.  I couldn't
tell her anything anymore than I can tell you anything about her.  But
this person did mention that she's working after school and Saturdays
at the Eastfield Mall in Holyoke.  At a shoe store.  She didn't
mention the name of the store because her mother came in and she had
to hang up.  I think you have enough information, don't you?"

    "Oh, yes!  Thank you so much!  I'll never forget you."  We
chatted for a few more minutes and promised to keep in touch.  That
was on a Thursday afternoon and I thought Saturday would never come!
Holyoke is an hour's drive from campus and I left Saturday morning at
9:00 so I'd be there when the mall opened.  I'd never been there and
got lost, so I didn't get there until almost 11:00 a.m.  I'd debated
quite a bit about what to wear and the decision finally came down to
jeans or a short denim skirt - I wanted to look casual, not like I'd
gone to any trouble or made any special effort.  I finally chose the
skirt because I wanted to show off my legs.  I've always felt that
they're my best feature and I'm kind of proud of them.  All the work
in the gym and the running has paid off.

    So I wore a sleeveless top, the short denim skirt, socks, and
running shoes.  It was a warm day for October so I just wore a light
jacket which I left in the car.  I walked around the mall and checked
out all the shoe stores without seeing Emma.  I was bitterly
disappointed, but decided to make the rounds again in case I'd missed
her.  This time, I decided to spend at least 15 minutes in each store.
I was in the second store, gazing at a display of black pumps, when I
heard a soft voice behind me say, "May I help you, ma'am?"

    I turned and there was Emma.  We stared at each other in
silence for a moment and then I said, "Yes, I'd like to try on a pair
of these pumps.  Size 7."

    She smiled and gestured at the row of chairs.  "Please take a
seat and I'll get a pair from the back."

    I sat down and watched Emma walk to the back of the store.
She was tall, athletic, very attractive and I felt nothing when I
looked at her.  No attraction, no affection.  She was just another nice kid.

    When she returned with the shoes I apologized and told her I'd
changed my mind.  She nodded.  "I thought you might.  Take care of
yourself.  Bye."  She smiled and turned away.  I got up and strolled
back through the mall feeling somewhat sad, but full of hope.  I was
young, healthy, and beautiful.  The world was full of attractive
women.  I'd find one someday.


The End.

Encounter, F/F, Blackmail

   The note came in the morning mail, laser printed on a sheet of
copier paper.  The message was short and to the point.  'I know about
all about you.  If you don't want your husband to find out you'll
follow these instructions to the letter.'  The message went on to
specify when and where I was expected to make an appearance.  It
promised no harm would come to me.  But If I failed to appear my
husband would receive a phone call the following day.

   I decided to do as instructed.  The next morning, at precisely 10
a.m., I arrived at 100 Garden Street and rang the bell for apartment
G1.  I was buzzed in and took the elevator up to the 7th floor.  The
door to apartment G1 was slightly ajar.  I entered and closed the door
behind me, engaging the deadbolt and safety chain as the instructions
had specified.  I set my purse down on an end table and picked up the
blindfold I found there.  The barstool was there in the middle of the
room as the note had mentioned.  I sat down on the stool and put the
blindfold in place.

   I sat there for a couple of minutes, alone with my thoughts.  I was
dressed as demanded in the note.  A blouse that buttoned in front,
front hook bra, thong panties, garterbelt, white nylon stockings,
short skirt, black medium-heeled pumps.  I knew I must look attractive
and vulnerable sitting there with the blindfold on.  I'm thirty-one
years old,  a brown-eyed blonde, and rather pretty.  I'm 5'8" tall,
weigh 125 pounds, and I have a nice, athletic body.  My legs are long
and sleek, my best feature.

   It seemed like an hour before anything happened but it was probably
only a few minutes.  I heard the creak of a hinge and then sensed
movement in the room.  The carpet muffled any footsteps, but a moving
body creates a faint breeze and then there are faint sounds created by
the rustling of clothes.  A low, husky voice warns me not to move or
speak.  I nod my understanding.  Fingertips caress my cheek for a
moment then pull away.

   I take a deep breath as I feel my blouse being unbuttoned.  I
remain motionless, my hands hanging at my sides.  My blouse is
removed.  My skirt is unbuttoned and a tug causes me to lift myself
for a moment while it is pulled down over my hips.  My panties go
next, followed by my bra.  I sit there wearing only garterbelt,
nylons, and shoes.  My nipples harden as the cool air hits them.  My
breasts are small, 34b, but pretty, without a trace of sag.  My
nipples are pink and sensitive.  They quickly harden to still little
points.

   A hand pushes my knees apart.  The voice warns me to keep them
apart.  I puzzle over the voice as I wait for the next move.  It seems
too soft for a man's voice, too deep for a woman.  A teenaged boy?
No, the voice is too confident to be someone that young.  Fingertips
caress my nipples and I begin to breathe more deeply.  I am becoming
aroused.

   My.... captor?  Tormentor?  I can't find an appropriate word to
describe this person.  Captor doesn't seem right, I'm here by choice.
Blackmailer seems right, but too crude.  Tormentor?  I haven't been
tormented, just stripped.  I decide that captor will have to do.

   My captor moves around behind me and my wrists are pulled back and
cuffed together.  Now I am truely a captive.  My captor places both
hands flat on my back.  The hands are neither small nor unusually
large.  No clue there.  The hands move across my back and around to
cup my breasts.  They squeeze gently and lift my breasts, thumbs
teasting my hard nipples.  I let my head fall back and moan with
pleasure as my breasts are fondled a little roughly, the way I like
it.

   The hands leave my breasts and I sigh audibly.  The response is a
brief chuckle.  I am prodded and told to stand and slip out of my
shoes.  I do so.  A collar is fastened around my neck.  It is wide and
fits snugly.  It forces me to hold my head up straight.  I feel
something being fastened to the collar and then a tug followed by a
steady pull.  I am forced up onto the tips of my toes.  After a
mintue, the hands cup my breasts again and fondly them roughly for a
couple of minutes.  I feel a warmth in one ear, warm breath followed
by the flicker of a tongue.  A single word.  "Slut."

   I shiver and whisper, "Yes?"

   A chuckle.  "Good, you acknowlege it."

   With a final squeeze, the hands abandon my breasts.  Then my
buttocks are parted and I feel something press against my anus.
"Please, no,"  I whimper but I'm ignored.  A long, thick butt plug is
forced into my ass as I whimper and plead.

   A hand slips between my legs.  I am very wet.  I moan as knowing
fingers slip between my labia to explore my tight cunt.  A fingertip
caresses my clit and my moans increase in volume.  My captor chuckles.
The hand withdraws.  I sigh in bitter disappointment.  The voice
demands, "Beg for it."

   I take a deep breath.  "Please," I whisper, "Please, I want to
come.  Please masturbate me.  Please!  Oh god, please!"  I moan as my
captor flicks the butt plug a couple of times.  The hand returns and I
moan and trust my hips, pushing myself onto those knowing fingers.  I
continue to moan as I am masturbated to orgasm, a long shuddering
climax that leaves me limp.

   When it is over, the cuffs are removed.  Then the collar.  I stand
there, sweaty and panting, and the voice instructs me not to move for
five minutes.  Then I am told that I can remove the blindfold, dress,
and leave.  I am ordered to leave the butt plug in until I am out of
the building.  A last instruction is given.  I am told to shave my
cunt before our next appointment which will be two days later at the
same time.  I nod and whisper, "Yes, I will."

   When I remove the blindfold I find that my underwear is missing.  I
slip my blouse and skirt back on and survey myself in the full length
mirror in the hall.  I look calm and collected, much calmer than I
feel.  My bare breasts are perfectly visible through my sheer blouse
and I look sexy.  I leave the apartment and walk down to the elevator,
praying that it will arrive empty.  The butt plug keeps me aroused.

   The elevator arrives with one occupant, a tall athletic looking
young woman with red hair.  She smiles as I enter and I see her glance
flick downward and back up.  She is taller than me and younger, maybe
25 or so.  Green eyed, freckled, pretty.  We ride down in silence.  As
we leave the building, I turn right and she turns left.  Then I hear
the voice from the apartment.  "Don't forget to shave."  I whirl
around and the redhead smiles as she turns the corner and disappears
from sight.

   The ironic part of the whole epsiode is this.  I am not married.

          The End

My Submission M/f 1 (no part 2)

   Like many others, my first exposure to B/d came when mainstream
novels with B/d themes hit the bookstores.  Books like "Bondage" by
Patti Davis and "Topping From Below" by Laura Reese and, of course,
the books that Anne Rice wrote under various pen names.  I read them
and enjoyed them for the most part, but my husband had no interest and
made it clear that no wife of his would get involved with anything so
common - that was the word he used.  Common.

   That conversation was the beginning of the end.  Our marriage had
been shaky for a while and things didn't get any better.  Before too
long I found myself single again at the age of 29.  Our marriage had
lasted for six years, but fortunately there were no children to be
hurt by the divorce.  Our parting was civilized.  We sold the house
and split the proceeds.  We each kept our own car.  He got the boat
and the camping gear.  I got the furniture.  He got the dog, I got the
cat.  And so it was over.

   I moved into an apartment and life went on.  I'm an underwriter for
a large insurance company - not very glamorous but it pays well.  I
continued my reading about B/d, but didn't seek to pursue any 'real'
activities.  Research has always been my strong suit.    I
discovered the Internet after hearing people at work talk about it.  I
got a computer and began avidly exploring this new world.
Alt.sex.bondage and alt.sex.stories quickly became two of my favorite
news groups.

   Then, about six months ago, I met a man at Borders Books.  Before I
tell you about the meeting, I should explain that I'm really very
average looking.  I'm 5'6" and weigh about 120 pounds.  I have a
pretty good figure, thanks to regular workouts and daily runs, but I'm
average.  You might see me and never look twice.  My hair and eyes are
brown and my skin is olive/tan.  I have good legs and, as I said, a
good figure (34c-25-34).  You have to look at me two or three times
before you realize that I'm almost pretty.

   Anyway, I was at Borders, looking for anything new on B/d, when I
realized that someone was studying me.  Not staring, but studying.
He'd glance at me for a few seconds and then go back to the book he
was browsing.  Then another look a minute or two later.  He looked to
be in his late thirties, possibly forty, and he looked interesting.
He wasn't too tall, maybe 5'9" or 5'10" but he seemed very fit.  Black
hair, cropped close to his head, clean-shaven, neat.  He was wearing
jeans and a T-shirt.  Black half-boots.  A tooled leather belt.  A
black leather jacket.  He looked like an off-duty cop but I found out
later that he owns a small software company.

   I found a couple of books and drifted to the front of the store to
pay for them.  He stood up and followed along, winding up behind me in
line.  As I paid for my books, he asked me if I was free to have a cup
of coffee with him.  (Borders has a coffee bar in every store).  I
hesitated, but he nodded at my books and said, "We can discuss your
purchases for a few minutes and then I'll leave if you wish."

   I considered his offer for a moment and nodded.  "Okay.  It might
be fun."

   As we walked back to the coffee bar he told me his name was Martin.
"Ellen," I said, "Ellen Randall.  Nice to meet you."  We stopped and
shook hands.

   As we sipped our coffee he took my books out of the bag and read
the titles.  Both were fiction.  "The Slave" by Sara Adamson and "The
Virgin" by Allison Tyler.  He'd read both of them and commented that
they were fun reading, but not very realistic.  He put them back and
we chatted for a few minutes.  He told me that he was, or had been
heavily into the B/d scene before his wife died.

   "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," I said.  "How long ago did it
happen?"

   He thanked me and said that she had died two years before of
cancer.  And he had kind of drifted away from the B/d scene afterward.
"It just wasn't the same."

   I hesitated, then asked, "Was your wife into B/d?"

   He smiled.  "Yes, she was.  At our wedding she was on her knees,
nude, collared, and cuffed.  I led her out of the room on a leash.
She was a loving, willing slave."

   We sipped our coffee in silence for a couple of minutes, each lost
in our own thoughts.  Then he put his cup down and cleared his throat.
"I have a proposal for you."  He paused and glanced at me.  I nodded
and he continued.  "You can stay here and I'll leave.  Or you can get
up and go outside and wait for me.  And I'll enslave you."

   I stared at him in silence for a long moment.  Then I got up and
walked to the door without glancing back.  When I got outside I walked
a few steps away from the door and stopped.  He came out a minute
later and walked past me.  "Follow me."  I followed him across the
parking lot to a new Lexus ES300.  He told me to go and get my car and
follow him back to his place.  I turned away to go to my car.  "Stop!"
I stopped and turned back to see what he wanted.  He beckoned and I
walked back.  "Whenever I give you an order, you will answer 'Yes,
master'.  Do you understand?"

   I nodded.  "Yes, master.  I understand."

   He smiled.  "That's better.  Now go and get your car."

   "Yes, master."  I turned and walked to my car.  My pulse was
racing.  I had met my master!  What would happen to me now?  Was I
worthy to be his slave?  Did I want to be his slave?  (The answer to
that was a resounding 'YES')

   I followed him to his house which turned out to be a big
contemporary located on five acres of land on the side of a hill in
Farmington.  His driveway was at least 200 yards long and wound
through a nicely landscaped yard.  It was almost dark, but I could see
that the house was beautiful and the grounds perfectly kept.  And very
private.  He pulled into the garage and I parked on the apron in front
of one of the other garage doors.  (He has a three-car garage).

   We went inside and he poured us each a glass of wine.  We sat on
the back deck and talked for two hours, mostly about my past.  He
asked many probing questions that would have embarassed me under other
circumstances.  I answered each question fully and truthfully.
Finally, he was satisified that I was honest, well-adjusted, and
really interested in being a slave.  We had finished one bottle of
wine.  He made coffee and while it was brewing he gave me a tour of
the house.  Then, over coffee, he asked me if I wanted to be his
slave.  For a trial period of three months.  I hesitated for a moment.
"Six months would be better, don't you think?"

   He nodded.  "Six months it is.  Any restrictions you want to
impose?"

   I thought about that for a moment.  "I don't want to die.  Or be
maimed.  Other than that, no restrictions that I can think of right
now."

   He smiled.  "Very well.  I'll be back in a moment."  He got up and
left the room.  I sat and sipped my coffee and wondered if I was being
a fool.  He returned in a few minutes and handed me a single sheet of
paper.  It was a 'Slave Contract'.  I read it and found that he had
put in the restrictions I'd mentioned, word for word.  I glanced up at
him and he handed me a pen.  I signed.  He signed.  He left and
returned a minute later with a photocopy of the contract.  I folded it
and put it in my purse.  He held out his hand and said, "Give my your
purse, I'll put it in the safe until tomorrow.  You'll stay her
tonight.  Tommorow you can leave and take three days to arrange your
affairs.  You can keep your job for now.  But you will move in here by
Friday.  Put your furniture in storage.  I'll pay."

   I nodded and handed him my purse.  He left and returned in a couple
of minutes.  He was carrying a small cardboard box.  He set in down on
the table and took out a beautiful hand-tooled leather collar - the
leather was a deep oxford, almost maroon.  He told me to stand up and
put it on.  I stood and slipped the collar around my neck.  After I
engaged the catch, he took a small stainless steel padlock out of the
box and locked the collar in place.  "The only time you will have this
off is in the shower or in the pool.  And I have a stainless steel
collar for you to wear in the pool.  Now remove your clothes and fold
them neatly and pile them on the table.  Shoes first."

   I lifted my feet one at a time and unlaced my running shoes.  After
they were off, I pulled my sweatshirt off over my head and folded it.
Then I unsnapped my jeans and pushed them down over my hips.  Martin
poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and brought it to the table.  I
noted that he took it black, with one sugar.  I was standing there in
my bra, panties, and socks.  He sat down and stirred his coffee.
"Continue undressing."

   I nodded and reached back to unhook my bra.  My breasts have always
looked big because I'm rather slender and I've always been proud of
them.  They're firm and full, pear-shaped, and tipped with big,
sensitive pink nipples.  As they tumbled free, Martin nodded and
murmurred, "Very nice!  Very nice, indeed."  I blushed and set my bra
on top of the pile.  Then I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my
panties and pushed them down over my hips.  I bent and retrieved them
after stepping out of them.  That left my socks.  Martin held his hand
up when I lifted my foot to take them off and said, "Stop, you look
more exposed with them on."

   I straightened up and stood with my hands by my sides.  Martin
sipped his coffee and looked me over carefully, motioning me to turn
this way and that.  When he was done, he smiled and said, "You are a
very attractive woman.  You have a lovely body, beautiful breasts, and
fine legs.  I love your long, firm thighs and your knees are perfect -
delicately sculpted, a delight to look at.  And your ass is very nice.
How often do you work out."

   I took a deep breath.  "Sir, I work out three times a week and run
every morning.  Three or four miles."

   He smiled.  "Very good.  You're a fast learner.  You are going to
be an excellent slave.  I will set up a gym here in the house so you
can work out at my convenience.  As for running, you may continue to
do so.  With some restrictions.  I'll tell you what they are later."

   He stood up then and took a riding crop out of the box.  "Bend over
the table and brace yourself."  I turned and faced the table, leaning
on it with my hands spread wide apart.  I stared at the opposite wall,
trembling slightly from the knowledge that I was about to be whipped
for the first time.

   I heard the swiiissssh and then I felt a jolt of intense pain as
the riding crop cut across my buttocks.  My head came up and I
whimpered.  "Oh, god!  Shit, I can't take this," I thought to myself.
"I just can't.  It hurts too much!"  But I bit my lip and didn't move.
He gave me nine more hard ones across my buttocks and thighs.  I cried
and squirmed and sobbed, but I didn't move.  After ten, he stopped and
asked me if I wanted another ten.  I turned and looked over my
shoulder.  Tears were streaming down my face.  My ass and thighs hurt
worse than anything I had ever endured.  "Yes, master.  Please give me
another ten."
He did.  I gripped the table until my knuckles were white, sobbing and
whimpering.  I screamed after the third blow in the second ten.  I
threw my head back and screamed my guts out.  It seemed to help.  I
couldn't stay motionless and did a little dance step after each
stroke.  By the end, I was screaming continuously, but I didn't beg
for mercy.

   After it was over, Martin put the riding crop down and told me not
to move.  He took a small jar out of the box and rubbed some soothing
salve onto my buttocks and thighs.  When he was finished, I dropped to
my knees and kissed his hand, and thanked him for whipping me. He
ruffled my hair and told me that I was a good girl.  I grinned up at
him through my tears.  I was so proud.  He unzipped his fly and
reached in.  I watched as he freed his cock from confinement.  He's
not real big, maybe 7 or 7 1/2" erect, but his cock is thick.  He
stroked it for a moment and then told me to open my mouth.  I didn't
suck him - he held my head with one hand and fucked me in the mouth.
At the end, he held my head and shot his cum down my throat.  It was
soooo good to be used.  Slaves are meant to be used and I was being
used properly.  I was content.

                END OF Part 1 of ?.

Sarah and Allison (part 1) - teen f/f romance

   Cheerleading practice was cancelled at the last minute and I knew
my mom wouldn't be home so I decided to walk.  It's only a little over
a mile and it was a nice warm afternoon.  September in Connecticut is
one of the best months and I felt great as I started home.  A couple
of guys honked as I was walking on North Main, but even that didn't
spoil my mood.

   For a few minutes I found myself wondering what kind of thrill guys
got from honking and making jerks out of themselves over some girl
walking along, a girl they didn't know and would most likely never
meet.  And not just guys my age, but men too, some of them really old
- past 40.  I guess I'd never understand them.  I didn't even
understand my boyfriend, Don.

   I'm a sophomore in high school and I won't be sixteen until late
May.  Don is a senior and will be 18 in a few months.  He's been
pressuring me to have sex, but I've repeatedly told him that I'm not
ready.  He thinks I'm holding out until I'm 16 because of a promise I
made to my mother - that's what I told him one night, but the truth is
that it just doesn't feel right.  Oh, well, nothing to worry about
now.

   On my way home, after I turn off Main Street, I have to pass
another high school, West Catholic.  Our town has four high schools -
two public and two private - I go to one of the public high schools
located only 4 blocks from West Catholic.  As I was walking past the
school I noticed a girls soccer game in progress on one of the
athletic fields bordering the street.  I crossed the street and stood
by the fence to watch, thinking that I might know some of the players.
Most of the time you don't get to meet many kids who go the Catholic
school route - it's almost like you live in different towns.

   I watched for a few minutes and only recognized one of the players.
It was a girl named Anne whom I'd known in junior high.  I hadn't seen
her since eight grade and we hadn't really been friends.  I was
turning away to resume my walk when I saw a tall blonde break out of
the pack with the ball and start up the field.  I stopped to watch
because she was good.  Very good.  She passed the ball across the
front of the goal and darted in.  Her teammate passed back and the
blonde drove it into the net.  As she came back up the field, hands
held over her head in celebration, I saw that she was very pretty.

   I decided to stay and watch the rest of the game.  I walked back to
the gate and slipped through.  As I walked over to the sideline I
found myself looking for the tall blonde.  She wasn't on the field and
then I saw her standing on the sideline, drinking from a water bottle.
I stopped about 15 feet away from the bench and set my backpack on the
ground.  A couple of the players glanced at me curiously and grinned
when they recognized my uniform.

   I crouched by my backpack and watched the game, glancing over
occasionally to see if the blonde was going back into the game.  She
was chatting with the coach and I found myself watching them more than
the game.  She was several inches taller than my 5'7", I guessed about
5'11", and stunningly attractive.  Her long blonde hair was done in a
French braid that fell to the small of her back.  As I watched her a
little voice in my head whispered, "What the hell are you doing here,
staring at another girl?"  I didn't have an answer.

   I guess I should tell you a little about me.  As I said, I'm 15 and
a sophomore at Central High.  I'm 5'7" and weigh 122 pounds.  I'm
fairly pretty, but by no means beautiful.  I think of myself as
'averagely attractive'.  My hair is light brown and was still streaked
with blonde from the hot summer sun at the beach.  My eyes are
hazel/green, depending on my mood and the light.  I have  a fair
complexion and tan nicely, but I have problems with freckles if I
overdo it.  My figure is ok, nothing spectacular - I'm small on top
(34b) and my hips are slim.  My legs are my best feature - long and
slim and sleekly muscled.  I know what people say about cheerleaders,
but the truth is that we have to be fit to do what we do.  Since going
out for cheerleading I've been running every day and working out in
our home gym.  It's hard and mostly boring, but worth it.  I'm a good
student, 3.78 gpa, and active in school affairs.  I want to go to
Yale, or maybe Harvard, and study history and political science.

   Enough about me.  The blonde went back into the game a few minutes
later and immediately scored another goal.  Anne, the girl I knew in
junior high came out for a break and saw me.  She picked up a water
bottle and came over to chat with me.  We caught up on each other's
doings since eight grade and then I asked her how she liked West
Catholic.  She grinned and said that she loved it and was glad she'd
let her mother talk her into it.  Then, very casually, I mentioned the
blonde, expressing admiration for her two goals.  I was suprised when
Anne made a face and said, "Oh, that's Allison.  She just started here
this fall.  She's only a freshman."  Then she leaned close and
whispered, "She's a dyke!  At least that's the rumor around school."
Then the coach called her and Anne trotted back to the bench.

   I returned my attention to the game and watched Allison score
another goal to put West ahead for good.  I wondered if Anne was right
about her being a dyke.  I was repulsed by the thought.  Or so I told
myself.  I didn't want to admit it, but I was fascinated by her.
Especially after what Anne had said.  I didn't know why - other girls
had never interested me in the slightest.  To be honest, I wasn't even
that interested in boys.  That was what was causing my problems with
Don.

   Allison came out of the game with just two minutes left.  West was
ahead by 2 goals and I guess she didn't want to risk having Allison
get hurt when they had a comfortable lead.  Allison picked up a water
bottle and pour a little over her head.  Then she took a long drink
before walking over to talk to the coach.  The coach pointed at
something on the field and spoke rapidly for a minute or two.  Allsion
nodded occasionally and then the coach was done and Allison turned
away from her.

   She glanced my way and I saw her eyes pass over me and continue on.
I was surprised at the feeling of disappointment that welled up in me.
But a minute later she glanced at me again, smiled, and started toward
me.  As she approached I found I was very nervous.  She smiled and
said, "Hi, my name is Allison.  I see you go to Central.  Did you come
to spy on us?"

   I blushed and whispered, "No, I'm not spying.  I was just walking
home and saw the game and decided to stop and watch.  Besides, we
don't play you."

   Allsion grinned.  "I knew that, I was just teasing."  She glanced
out at the game and seemed satisified with what she saw because she
turned back to me an asked what year I was in.  We chatted easily
until the game was over.  I told her where I lived and discovered that
she lived one block over, her house was diagonally behind mine, just
one over.

   When the game ended the team picked up all their equipment and
headed into the gym.  Allison came over and asked me if I wanted to
join them and then we could walk home together.  I saw Anne looking at
us and I knew it would be all over school if I accepted Allsion's
invitation.  I hesitated and I saw a fleeting look of disappointment
pass across Allion's lovely face.  I smiled and said, "That sounds
great!"  She grinned and her whole face lit up.  My little voice was
screaming, "Stupid!  Stupid!", but I ignored it.

   We walk to the gym and through it to the girl's locker room.  I
hang back while the team gathers around the coach for her post-game
talk.  It lasts about ten minutes.  Then they break up and some of the
girls start to undress.  The coach has a stack of clean towels on a
table at the entrance to the showers.  I wonder if Allsion is going to
shower, but she comes back with her backpack and a sports bag.  I pick
up my backpack and we leave together and walk home, chatting all the
way.

   When we get to my house I see that both cars are gone, which means
that nobody is home.  My brother is in college and both my parents
work.  I invited Allison in but she is hesitant.  "I don't want to
intrude," she says.  I assure her that she's not intruding, that
nobody else is home.  "But I NEED a shower."  I grin and mention that
our house is modern, we have three showers!  She smiles and says, "Ok,
I give up."

   We go inside and drop our stuff in the kitched.  Allison bring her
sports bag upstairs with her and I show her the bathroom that I share
with my brother.  My mom is a bathroom freak and had them all redone a
few years ago.  My bathroom (now that my brother is gone) has a tub on
the left as you walk in.  Then a stall shower in the corner with two
glass walls.  The tub and the shower are directly adjoining.  The tub
is big and has a jaccuzzi unit with eight nozzles.  On the opposite
wall are the toilet, sink, and a full-length mirror.  Allison is very
impressed, especially with the tub.  "God, that would feel good right
now.  I get so battered during some games...."

   I told her she was welcome to use it after she showered.  She
grinned happily and started to peel off her uniform.  I turned to
leave but she told me I was welcome to stay.  "After all, we're both
girls.  And we can talk."  I hesitated for a moment and then told her
I'd be right back.  I asked her if she wanted something to drink and
she said she'd love a Diet Coke.  I nodded and headed down to the
kitchen.  On the way, I stopped in my room and changed into cutoff
denim shorts and a t-shirt.

   When I returned with the drinks Allison was in the shower
shampooing her long thick hair.  I was shocked at how beautiful she
looked.  Her slim body looked much better nude than clothed, something
I already knew to be unusual.  I was especially fascinated by her long
strong legs and sleek firm thighs.  As she turned to rinse her hair I
was surprised to see that her pubic area was bare and smooth, not a
trace of hair.  I tapped on the glass and held up the Diet Coke, she
grinned and nodded.  I opened the door enough to hand it in and waited
while she took a long sip.  I tried not to stare, but it was hard.
Her breasts were so pretty, full and round and firm with pert pink
nipples that were hard and pointy.

  She handed the can back and I turned and set it on the sink.  Then I
put the cover down on the toilet and sat down.  We chatted over the
noise of the water and it was mostly questions from Allison about
school, the town, the kids that lived in the neighborhood, and the
like.  She told me they'd moved here from Minnesota in August.  An
unexpected move because her dad had been offered a great job and
couldn't turn it down.  I told her about my family, my parents are
both professionals, my mother a doctor and my father a lawyer, and
about my brother.

   When she was done rinising off,  I handed her a towel and began to
fill the tub for her.  I could see that she had a couple of bruises on
her legs and one nasty scratch on her right thigh.  She also had a
bruises on her knees.  I asked her about that and she said,
"Basketball, that's my real sport.  My knees take a beating."  She
wrapped the towel around her head and stepped out of the shower.  I
was surprised at how comfortable she seemed to be with being nude.  I
mentioned it and she shrugged, "You get used to it - locker rooms are
not very private and I've been playing AAU Basketball since I was 10."

   She climbed into the tub and settled down with a sigh.  As soon as
the water was deep enough I turned on the jets and showed her how to
work the controls.  She moaned with pleasure as the hard jets massaged
her.  She sank down in the tub, resting her head on the edge, and
closed her eyes.  I excused myself, telling her I'd be right back.
She said, "Ok" without opening her eyes.

   I went downstairs and walked around in the yard for a few minutes
to clear my head.  I was very confused.  I told myself I wasn't gay,
but I couldn't deny the fact that I loved looking at Allison's nude
body and wanted to rush right back upstairs.  I held out for a few
minutes and then went back inside.  Allison opened her eyes when I
walked into the bathroom and asked if everything was ok.  I nodded,
"Yes, everything's fine."

   She gave me a long look and then asked if I wanted to join her.  I
shook my head, "Not now.  My mom will be home in a while."  Allison
smiled, "Okay, some other time.  She turned the jets off and opened
the drain.  I leaned against the sink and watched her dry off.  Then I
got my hairdryer and offered to dry her hair for her.  She smiled and
said, "Really?  I'd love that."  She straddled the toilet, still nude,
facing the wall, and I stood behind her and dried her hair.  It's so
long and thick that it took a while.  Brushing it was a real chore and
I saw why she enjoyed having someone else do it for her.

   Allison was dressed and we were sitting in the kitchen working on
homework when my mom came home.  She was very friendly and I could
tell that she liked Allison.  She did raise her eyebrows in mock
suprised when I told her that Allison not only went to West Catholic,
but was a lowly freshman.  Allison groaned and gave me a playful punch
on the shoulder.  It was fun.  Mom inivted Allison to stay for dinner
but she said she had to get home before too long.  She called and
there was no answer so we hung around in the kitchen, talking to my
mom.

   Later, I walked Allison home.  We went around the block although we
could have cut through the yard.  She told me that there was another
home game at West the following afternoon, a makeup of a game that had
been postponed when the other team's bus had been involved in a minor
accident.  I told her I had cheerleading practice.  She sighed and
said, "I was hoping you'd come and watch the game."  By this time we
were standing in the breezeway that connected her garage to the house.
She touched my arm and said, "I really like you, Sarah.  A lot."

   I felt as though a great weight had settled on my chest.  I found
it hard to breathe.  I glanced up at her and felt a wave of panic
sweep over me.  "I like you too," I whispered.  "Bye, I have to get
home."  We stared at each other in silence for a moment, then I
started to turn to leave.  She reached out and put her hand on my
shoulder.  I stopped and glanced up at her.  She slid her hand up to
the back of my neck and drew me close.  I felt helpless.  Her hand was
warm and strong on my neck.

   She whispered, "I'm going to kiss you now."  I nodded and turned my
face up to her.  She leaned and pressed her mouth against mine and I
felt her tongue probing my closed mouth.  I resisted for a moment
until she squeezed my neck gently.  Then I opened my mouth and she
pushed her tongue in deep.  When she released me I stepped back,
dazed, and whispered, "I've GOT to go."  I turned and fled.  I glanced
back as I reached the front sidewalk and saw her still standing there.
She waved and I waved back.  Then I ran all the way home.

   When I got home my mom asked if anything was wrong.  I shook my
head and said, "No, everything's fine."  What a lie!  She told me
she'd really liked Allison and hoped to see her around more.  I nodded
and said I did too and then went upstairs to do my homework.
Actually, I just sat and stared out the window.  I could see Allison's
house through the trees and wondered if she was staring out her
window.  Probably not, she wasn't confused.

   My mom came up a few minutes later.  "Sarah, are you sure nothing's
wrong?"  I hesitated and then admitted that I was confused about a few
things.  She sat down on my bed and listened as I told her how Don was
pressuring me to have sex and I didn't feel I was ready.

   "Sarah, if you're not ready and I'm glad to hear that, then don't
give in just to please someone else.  You're the only one who can make
these decisions and we've raised you to make the right ones for you.
For you, not for someone else."

Sarah and Allison 2

"That's not all of it.  There's Allison.  I just met her today when
I stopped to watch her soccer game at West.  I stopped because she was
so damn beautiful."

   "Don't swear, it's not ladylike."

   "Mom!  Are you listening?  Anne, remember her from junior high?"
Mom nodded and I continued, "She's at West now.  She told me that
Allison's a dyke."  I paused and waited for mom to explode.  I was
shocked when she just smiled and said, "So?"

   "Mom, she is.  She kissed me!  And.... And.... I liked it."  There,
I'd said it.  I waited for the explosion.

   "One kiss doesn't make you gay."  God, who was this?  Had they
replaced mom, old straight-and-narrow mom, with a clone?

   "That's not all.  She took a shower here.  And I watched.  And I
liked watching.  She's got a beautiful body."  That would surely do
it.

   "Sarah, if you're trying to shock me or provoke me, it's not going
to work."  Mom got that faraway look in her eye that meant she was
drifting back, thinking about the past.  "When I was in college there
was a girl, my roommate actually, who was just so beautiful..... Well
we became very good friends.  Very good friends....."  Her voice
drifted off into silence for a moment, then she came back.  "Well,
let's just say that it was very very nice while it lasted, but I
wanted a family and so we parted.  But I wonder about her
sometimes....."

   I was stunned.  My mom and another woman?  "But what about Allison
and me?"

   She smiled.  "That's entirely up to you, my dear.  Whatever you
decide will be fine with your dad and I.  But I do think you ought to
break up with Don.  It's only fair."

   I nodded.  "Tomorrow."

   Mom stood up and kissed me on the forehead.  "Come down for dinner
when your father gets home."  I nodded and she left.

   The next morning I was up at 5:30 and went out for my run.  A quick
three miles and then home to shower and get ready for school.  I
hesitated over my choice of clothes and finally decided on a denim
skirt and a cotton top.  My Nikes and a pair of cotton socks.  Mom
dropped me off at 7:15 and I went straight to my locker.  Don was
waiting and I could tell that he was mad.

   He didn't give me a chance to say anything before he lashed out at
me.  "We're through," he hissed.  "I heard about you walking home with
that dyke from West Catholic.  Bunch of lezzie cunts over there!  How
could you do this to me?  It's over, bitch."  And he turned around and
stormed off.  In a way it was a relief.  At least now I didn't have to
worry about what I was going to say to him.  But I had another worry.
If he'd heard, and I assumed Anne had been busy on the phone last
night, then everyone knew.  "Well, fuck them," I muttered as I slammed
my locked and headed off to my homeroom.

   Girls I'd known since kindergarten turned their backs on me that
day.  Other girls, who I'd never known went out of their way to smile
and say 'hello'.  Go figure.  All-in-all it wasn't too bad a day.  I
went by the gym after lunch and told Miss Mcquire that I wasn't going
to be at cheerleading practice that afternoon.  She seemed sympathetic
and told me that it was okay to skip one practice, but only one.  I
nodded and assured her that I'd be at the next one.

   When 2:12 finally rolled around I was one of the first out the
door.  I had my backpack and I was moving.  I practically ran the
whole way over to West Catholic, slowing down only when I approached
the gate near the athletic field.  The girls soccer game was just
underway when I arrived.  Allison was on the field, so I dropped my
backpack near their bench and sat down on top of it to watch the game.
The coach came over and introduced herself.  I stood up and shook her
hand as I told her my name.  She asked if anything was wrong with
Allison.  I shook my head, mystified.  "Not that I know of.  She was
fine last night when I walked home with her."

   The coach shook her head.  "Something's wrong.  She's playing like
she's half-asleep."  I turned to watch the game.  The coach was right.
Allison was just going through the motions.  The coach sighed and
said, "I'm going to take her out."

   Without thinking I stuck two fingers in my mouth and whistled like
my brother had taught me.  It was a loud, piercing sound and everyone
turned to look.  Including Allison.  It was like someone threw a
switch.  She grinned and suddenly she was moving.  She took the ball
away from an opposing player and started up the field.  The coach
glanced at me and shook her head, but she was smiling.  "Kids!"
Allison and her teammates passed twice and then Allison set up a goal
by passing out to a quick little redhead who was right in front of the
goal, five yards out.  They scored and went on to win 5-2.  Allison
scored twice.  She was also tripped twice and involved in a bad
collision with an opposing player.  She limped off the field at the
end of the game, obviously hurting, but with a big smile on her face.

   She walked over and stood in front of me.  "Thanks for coming to
the game."

   I nodded.  "You're welcome.  I enjoyed it."

   Her eyes searched my face for a moment.  "Well?"

   I blushed.  "Okay."

   She grinned.  "Really?"

   I grinned back.  "Really!"

   She touched my arm.  "Say it.  I want to hear you say it."

   I blushed again and she chuckled.  "I love you," I whispered
softly.

   She smiled and touched my arm again.  "Come and walk in with me for
the meeting."  I nodded and fell in step with her.

   As we walked toward the gym I whispered, "I can't believe this.
You're only 14!"

   She glanced at me and asked if it bothered me that she was younger.
I shook my head.  "No, not really."

   "How do you feel when you're with me?"  I glanced over and saw that
she was asking seriously.

   "I feel confused.  And happy.  And excited.  And safe.  Very safe.
When you put your hand on my neck last night I wanted you to keep it
there forever.  God, I felt so safe when you were holding me."

   She stopped and looked at me in silence for a moment.  "Good,
that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.  I want you to
feel safe.  I love you more than anything.  I have since I first saw
you.  You came running by my house one morning just after we moved
here and it was love at first sight.  I've been hoping to meet you
ever since."

   Then she turned and started walking again.  I caught up with her
and we went into the girls locker room for the team meeting.  I leaned
against the wall by the door and waited while the coach gave her
post-game talk.  Then Allison and I walked home together.  She was
limping a little and admitted that she'd twisted her ankle.  I knew
she'd taken a couple bad falls and I saw new bruises on her legs.  I
told her she was going right into the tub after a quick shower.  She
glanced at me and grinned.  "Yes, ma'am."  I swatted her on the arm
and told her to behave herself.

  She stopped and got a funny look on her face - real dreamy.  Her
eyes went out of focus.  And then her hand was on the back of my neck.
I didn't resist when she drew me close and bent to kiss me.  We were
standing on the sidewalk a few blocks from my house but I didn't care.
I opened my mouth and moaned with pleasure as her tongue probed deep.
She kissed me like I'd never been kissed before and I sagged against
her when my knees got weak.

   Then we were walking again and I was the one in a daze.  She nudged
me with her elbow, "Wash my hair for me today?"  I glanced at her,
"But that would mean...."  My voice trailed off as she grinned.

   "Exactly.  Can't put anything over on you!  So, how about it?"  I
nodded and blushed.  She giggled.  "I love it when you blush!"

   I got mad and punched her on the arm.  "Stop that!  I hate it when
you make me blush like that!  I feel so stupid!"  Just then a car
pulled up.  A familiar car.  "Oh shit," I whispered, "It's my mom!"

   The passenger window slid down and mom leaned across the seat.
"Want a ride?"  I hesitated, but Allison smiled and said, "Sure, Mrs.
Black."  Allison opened the door and held it - I didn't have any
choice so I got in and slid into the middle of the front seat.
Allison swung her pack into the back seat and then slid in beside me.
I could feel her hip and thigh against mine.

   Mom pulled away from the curb and glanced at me.  "Is everything
okay?"

   I glanced quickly at Allison.  "Yes, everything is perfect."

   Mom smiled.  "Good.  I like it when things are perfect.  Decisions
made.  People happy."  Then she asked Allison a question about soccer
and they chatted for the rest of the three minute ride.

   When we got home I told mom that Allison was staying for dinner but
needed to shower.  Mom nodded.  "The way she's limping it looks like
she could use some time in the jaccuzi too.  Go ahead, I'll be out
puttering in the garden.  Dad won't be home until very late so it will
just be the three of us for dinner."

   As we started out of the kitchen mom called me back.  "Sarah, I
need to talk to you for a moment."  I went back and she said, "Are you
happy?"

   I smiled.  "Yes, mom, very happy."

   She smiled back at me.  "Good.  Go ahead now."  As I turned away
she said, "Your hair needs washing too.  Don't make a mess in there
either."  I glanced back at her, stunned, but she'd turned away and
was sorting the mail.

   When I got upstairs Allison was waiting in my room.  "What did she
say?" she demanded anxiously.  I told her and she grinned.  Then she
got that dreamy look on her face and I stepped closer.  When I felt
her hand on the back of my neck I sighed happily and whispered, "I
love you."  She squeezed gently and I moaned.  "God, I love it when
you do that!"  She squeezed again and then began unbuttoning my
blouse.  I stood there quietly and let her strip me naked.  She looked
me over and told me she loved my body.  She ran the back of her hand
over my belly and I shivered.  Then she kissed me, stroking my back
and buttocks gently as she did so.  After the kiss she asked me if I
was happy.  I nodded.  "I'm very happy as long as I'm with you."

   She grinned and said, "I love you so much.  And I love you naked!"
Of course I blushed and she chuckled as she watched it move down my
body.  Then she kissed me again and held me for a moment.  I
whispered, "Keep me naked if you like me that way."  She squeezed me
gently and then stepped back and started undressing.

   When she was finished we went into the bathroom and I turned on the
shower while she unbraided her hair.  We got into the shower together,
there was plenty of room, and I washed her hair while she knelt with
her back to me.  It was very erotic - being nude together in the
shower and washing her hair.  Then she washed mine while I knelt.
Then we soaped each other and washed each other all over.  I loved the
feel of her soft smooth skin under my soapy hands.  And I loved the
feel of her hands on my body, soft, but firm and strong.  When she
washed my buttocks I bit my lip and moaned with pleasure.  I took a
deep breath and whispered, "Oh, God!' when she spread them and ran the
tip of her finger over my anus.

   It was fantastic!  I cupped her breasts and kissed each nipple
gently before sucking it into my mouth.  I loved the way she sighed
and moaned.  Then I brought my knee up between her legs and rubbed it
against her waxed pussy.  She spread her legs and pressed herself
against my knee.  God, it was fantastic!  A little later I dropped to
my knees and ran my tongue over her slit for the first time.  I loved
it!  She tasted wonderful!

   Then I bumped her knee somehow and she cried out.  I sat down and
took a good look.  Her knee was badly bruised and looked a little
swollen.  I felt terrible.  I ran the tips of my fingers over her
knee, probing gently, looking up to see her reaction.  She was in pain
- I saw her wince a couple of times.  That was enough for me.  I stood
up and told her that she needed to get into the tub and use the
jaccuzi, but first I wanted my mom to look at her knee.  She didn't
want to, but gave in when I started to cry.

   I filled the tub and she got in and turned on the jets.  Then I
wrapped myself in a big towel and went to get my mom.  She was out in
the yard but came when I called from the kitchen window.  I told her
that Allison's knee seemed bad and asked her to look at it.  She
nodded and followed me upstairs.  She crouched by the tub and probed
and poked and prodded gently while asking Allison how it felt and how
it had happened.  Allison explained that she'd twisted it when she
twisted her ankle.  Mom immediately picked up Allison's foot and began
examining her ankle.

   Allison didn't seem to mind having mom examine her while she was
naked and mom didn't seem to be bothered either.  After a few minutes
she told Allison that she thought the damage was minor but advised her
to see her own doctor.  She told Allison that she'd wrap her knee and
ankle after she was dry and dressed.  Then she got up and kissed me on
the forehead and said she'd be out in the yard and call her when
Allison was ready to have her knee wrapped.

   After mom was gone, Allison glanced at me and asked why I'd cried.
I sat on the edge of the tub and ran my fingers through her wet hair.
"I cried because I love you and I couldn't stand the thought of you
being in pain.  Please take care of yourself."  I touched her knee.
"You've got such pretty knees - I hate to see them all bruised and
scratched."

   Allison smiled.  "You'll have to get used to it.  Athletes get
hurt."

   I nodded.  "I know that, but it doesn't mean you have to take
chances.  Can't you wear knee pads and shin guards like some of the
others?"

   She made a face.  "I hate those things!  They slow me down and make
me feel awkward."

   "Please," I pleaded, "At least wear knee pads."  She nodded
reluctantly and promised to think about it.  I satisfied myself with
that for the moment.  She distracted me by running her hand up under
my towel and I spread my legs slightly to allow her to slip her finger
into my wet pussy.  Soon the towel was on the floor and I was moaning
as she sucked my nipples and masturbated me to my first orgasm with
her.  She triggered it by slipping her free hand around behind me and
pushing her index finger into my anus.  I threw my head back and
moaned with pleasure as I started to orgasm. pushing myself back
against her finger.

   Twenty minutes later we were dressed and down in the kitchen, our
hair still wet.  Allison sat on the counter while mom wrapped her knee
and ankle with Ace bandages.  Then she called Allison's mom and talked
to her for a few minutes.  Then Allison's mom came through the yards
to talk to mom in person.  They seemed to hit it off.  I brought my
hair dryer out to the patio and we took turns doing each other's hair.
Allison nodded when I asked if her mother knew she was gay.  "Yes, and
she's comfortable with it.  More than my dad.  Mom's cool."

   Allison drew me down onto her lap and kissed me.  We were sitting
there, me on her lap, when our moms came out onto the patio.  I
started to get up but Allison held me on her lap.  Our moms came over
and sat down at the table.  My mom told us that she had agreed to take
Allison on as a patient.  (Mom's a pediatrican)  Allison's mom smiled
at me and patted my hand.  Then she told Allison to mind her manners
at dinner and be home by nine o'clock.  Allison nodded meekly.  "Yes,
mom.  I will."

   After Allison's mom left my mom said, "Allison, I have to ask you
this.  Have you had any other lover's recently?"

   I blushed.  "Mom!  How could you?  I'm so embarassed."

   Mom glanced at me and said, "Shush, Sarah.  It's for your own good.
Both of you."

   Allison squeezed my wrist and said, "Your mom's right.  No, Doctor
Black, I haven't had any other lovers lately.  Or ever.  Sarah is my
first."

   Mom smiled.  "Good.  That's good to hear."

   I glanced at Allison.  "I'm your last lover, too.  I'll kick your
butt if you even look at another girl!"

   Allison laughed.  Mom chuckled.  Then we all went inside to fix
dinner.

THE END

The Flight, F/F, Heavy Bnd

   I caught a late flight out of Los Angeles that would get me home
early the next morning.  I was at the end of a long business trip that
had taken me to Houston, Seattle, San Francisco, and finally Los
Angeles.  I couldn't wait to get home.  The group waiting to board the
flight was small, probably as a result of the recent crash that had
taken almost 300 lives.  Flying scares me, always has and always will
but I have to fly or give up my business.  I'm a management consultant
with my own firm and clients all over the country.

   When the flight was announced, I was first through the gate onto
the Jetway, anxious to get rid of the guy that had been hitting on me
for the past thirty minutes.  No matter what I said he persisted.  I
prayed he wouldn't be in first-class.  As luck would have it, I was
the only passenger in first-class when the plane taxied away from the
gate.  Two of the flight attendants stood in the aisle and conferred
for a moment before one of them turned and disappeared through the
curtain into the rear compartment.  The other, a young, pretty blonde
with short hair gave me a quick smile and then started the required
saftey demonstration as one of her colleagues began to speak on the
intercom.

   When the demonstration was over, I leaned back and opened the book
I'd bought earlier in the day, Robert Parker's latest 'Spenser'
mystery.  I suppose I should introduce myself before I get any deeper
into the story.  My name is Kate Dennis and I'm thirty years old.  I'm
a tall, slender brunette with hazel eyes, olive skin, and long nice
legs.  I'm no beauty but I am attractive and some would even say
pretty, but everyone agrees that my legs are my best feature.  I'm
single again after a short disastrous marriage to a man who mistook me
for a punching bag.  I was dressed for comfort that night, wearing a
t-shirt, nylon jogging shorts, and my favorite Reeboks.

   I was just getting into the book when the blonde flight attendant
appeared and asked if I wanted something to drink.  I nodded and asked
for Harvey's Bristol Cream.  She smiled and hurried away to get it.
When she returned, she poured my drink and told me that her name was
Gwen and that she'd be taking care of me but might be absent for short
stretches to help out in back.  I smiled.  "I'm Kate Shaw and you
don't have to fuss over me.  I'll probably sleep most of the way."

   I returned my attention to 'Spenser' and sipped my sherry as I
read.  Gwen was back a few minutes later with some snacks, peanuts and
pretzels, apologizing for forgetting them earlier.  She hovered, as if
she wanted to talk, so I put my book aside and took a good look at
her.  She was young and friendly and very beautiful.  Normally I don't
care for young beautiful blondes but Gwen was like a puppy, eager and
adorable.  Her hair was cut very short and it gave her a boyish look
that was enhanced by her slender figure.  Her uniform skirt was very
short, showing off her long beautiful legs.

   I gestured at the empty seat and asked her if she could sit and
talk for a few minutes.  She glanced toward the back.  "I'd like to,
but not right now.  Can I come back later?"  I nodded and said later
would be fine.  She grinned and disappeared again.

   When she came back, she brought me another Harvey's and asked if I
was hungry.  "We've got steak and grilled chicken tonight."

   Until she spoke, I hadn't realized that I was indeed hungry.  I
decided upon the steak and she hurried off to get it.  Airline food
usually defies description but the steak turned out to be suprisingly
good.  The salad was crisp and the baked potato was firm but not hard.
I enjoyed it.  Something I can't say very often.  I travel a lot, my
clients are all over the United States and Canada and I'm an expert on
airline food.

   Later, after taking the tray away, Gwen brought me a third Harvey's
and settled down in the empty aisle seat.  She sighed and I glanced at
her.  "Long flight today?"

   She chuckled.  "No not today, but we flew from Japan yesterday and
that was a long one.  My feet still hurt!  But it was great!  My first
trip out of the country!"

   I grinned, she seemed so young and enthusiastic.  "How old are
you?"

   She glanced at me with a mischevious grin.  "How old do you think I
am?"

   I took a guess.  "Twenty-one?  Twenty-two?"

   She shook her head.  "Nope, I just turned nineteen, three days ago.
Celebrated in Tokyo with the crew."

   I raised my glass in a toast, "Happy birthday.  How did you like
Japan?"

   "Oh, it was fantastic!  But the men!  They seem to have this thing
about blondes!  Next trip I'll wear a wig."  She sighed and leaned
back in the seat for a second.  Then she noticed that my drink was
almost empty and she hopped up to get me another before I could stop
her.

   When she returned I asked her if she was trying to get me drunk.
She looked startled for a moment and then grinned.  "Would I have to?"

   It was my turn to be startled.  This little girl, barely out of her
training bra, was hitting on me!  I took a long sip of my drink to
give me time to think.  My mind drifted back over the years to my
second year in college.  My roommate, Allison, had gotten me drunk one
night and taken me to bed with her.  What followed was so exciting, so
fantastic, so scary, that I moved out the next day and tried not to
think about it ever again.

   I took a deep breath and looked her right in the eye.  Her's were
green and big.  "No," I whispered, "You don't have to get me drunk."

   She grinned, "Good.  I'll be back in a moment."  When she returned,
she had a blanket and a pillow.  She handed them to me and suggested
that I cover myself so I'd stay warm while I was naked.  Then she
disappeared again.  I put my seat back as far as it would go and put
the pillow behind my head.  Then I covered myself with the blanket and
removed my shorts, t-shirt, bra, and panties.  I left my socks and
shoes on.  I folded my things neatly and tucked them behind my back.

   When Gwen returned she slipped into the aisle seat and leaned
close.  I closed my eyes and turned my face up for her kiss.  It was a
long, sweet kiss with lots of tongue.  Very arousing and very erotic.
She drove her tongue into my mouth and quickly established who was in
control.  Then she pulled back and we stared at each other in silence
for a long moment.  I saw her grip the edge of the blanket and I let
her pull it away, exposing my nude body to her gaze.  She took a long
long look before whispering, "You're very beautiful!"

   I blushed and whispered, "Thank you."  I made no attempt to cover
myself, leaving my hands resting on my thighs.  She reached out and
put her hand on my left knee, tugging it until I was spread for her
inspection.  I closed my eyes and sighed as she ran her hand up the
inside of my left thigh.

   At the same time, she asked what I'd done with my clothes.  I
opened my eyes and leaned forward so she could see them folded behind
my back.  She took them and got up.  I watched her walk to the front
of the cabin and tuck them into a drawer.  That left me completely at
her mercy.  I was surprised at how much that excited me.  When she
returned and saw that I was still uncovered she told me to pull the
blanket up in case someone came forward to use the restroom.  Then she
kissed me again and slipped her hand under the blanket.  I sighed and
shifted position so that I was completely open to her.  She smiled and
whispered, "After we land, pretend to be asleep.  I'll 'wake' you
after the plane is empty."

   I nodded.  "What about the other attendants?"

   She wrinkled her nose, an adorable gesture.  "Don't worry about
them.  I'll tell them you're a friend and I'm taking you into the city
in my car."

   I nodded again, content to let her arrange things.  She masturbated
me to orgasm and I moaned with pleasure as it hit.  Then I yawned.
She grinned and told me to get some sleep.  She tucked the blanket
around me tightly and then got another which she tossed over me
loosely.  I drifted off to sleep and slept the rest of the way.  The
jolt of the landing gear coming down woke me.  I was startled to
realize that I was nude, but then I remembered.  I glanced around.
Gwen was just coming up the aisle from the back.  She smiled and gave
me a quick kiss.  "Remember, pretend you're asleep."  I nodded and
closed my eyes.

   It was strange to lay there nude under the blankets and listen to
everyone as they filed off the plane.  Finally, when the plane was
empty, Gwen came and handed me a raincoat.  "Everyone's gone but us.
Put this on and we'll get going."

   I tossed the blankets off and stood up.  Gwen smiled as she gazed
at my nude body.  I slipped the raincoat on.  It was a perfect fit.  I
gathered my things and followed her up the jetway into the terminal.
She took me with her to the office where she signed out and then we
went down to get my luggage.  Finally, we arrived at her car and put
our bags in the trunk.  It was 5 a.m. on Saturday.  Gwen drove us into
the city to her apartment.  I asked her why she didn't live out on the
island, near the airport, and she said that the excitement of living
in the city made up for the hassle of driving back and forth.

   As we were getting our bags out of the trunk, she asked how long I
could stay.  I shrugged.  Until Sunday night, maybe Monday morning.  I
explained about being the boss and not having to answer to anyone but
my clients.  Then I told her about my house in Greenwich and she
seemed fascinated.  I yawned as we crossed the garage to the elevator.
Once inside, she pushed 22 and then turned to me.  "Take the raincoat
off."

   I hesitated and she slapped me.  Not hard, but not a soft slap.  It
stung.  I hastily removed the raincoat and folded it neatly.  She
smiled and ran the back of her hand over my nipples.  I moaned as they
sprang erect.  She chuckled and her hand darted between my legs.  She
held it up to show me what I already knew - I was sopping wet.  "Lick
it."  I leaned forward obediently and licked my juices from her
fingers.  It was fantastic!  I'd tasted myself before, of course, but
never in a public place and never at someone else's command.

   When the elevator stopped, I followed her down the hall, no longer
caring about being nude.  She unlocked her apartment and ushered me
inside.  It suddenly occurred to me that she might have a roommate,
but she assured me that she lived alone.  She left me standing in the
middle of the living/diningroom and disappeared into the bedroom.  She
reappeared within a minute or so.  Nude.  Carrying a riding crop.  She
was stunningly beautiful.  Long firm thighs, flat stomach, pert full
breasts that bounced gently with each step.  Big hard nipples, a
bright pink in color.

   I glanced at the riding crop and licked my lips, suddenly scared.
And very excited.  I dropped to my knees and rolled onto my belly.  I
crawled to her and licked her feet in submission.  She asked me if I
wanted to taste the whip.  I glanced up at her and whispered, "Yes, oh
yes.  I want it!"

   She pointed to the coffee table and told me to get up on it on my
knees.  I scrambled to obey, clasping my hands behind my neck as
directed.  She positioned herself on my left and told me that noise
wasn't a problem because the walls were thick, but she turned her
stereo on and put it up a little to cover any sounds I might make.  I
saw her arm go up out of the corner of my eye and then the riding crop
came down across my butt and I yelped.  She gave me a dozen very
quickly, not hard, but enough to bring tears to my eyes and leave my
bottom stinging.

   Afterward, on my knees in front of her, I looked up at her through
my tears and whispered, "How did you know?"

   She grinned.  "I looked at you on the plane and knew that you were
ripe!  You might as well have had 'Slave' written on your forehead
with Magic Marker!"  She spread her legs and slid down a little.  I
bent and ran my tongue up her thigh and into her sweet young shaved
pussy.  She was wet and delicious.  It had been twelve years since I
had tasted another woman's cunt and I suddenly regretted every moment.
I brought her to orgasm and sat back on my heels, immensely happy and
very content.

   She leaned forward and stroked my cheek.  I smiled and rubbed my
face against her hand.  She smiled and whispered, "You'd make a good
slave, too bad you're up in Connecticut."

   I took a deep breath.  "Come up to Connecticut and live with me.  I
have a big house with a pool and there's plenty of room."

   I stared up at her, afraid to breathe while I waited for her
answer.  She shook her head, "It's too long a drive to the airport
from there."

   I grinned.  "You can take a limo in.  I'll pay for it.  I've plenty
of money.  My grandmother left me a fortune."

   She frowned and said, "I'll think about it.  Don't push!"

   I ducked my head and kissed her knee.  "Yes, ma'am."

   She got up and went into the bedroom after warning me not to move.
When she returned she had a leather briefcase with her.  She set it on
the coffee table and opened it up.  It was filled with bondage toys.
She put clips on my nipples and hung little weights on them.  I sucked
in my breath and whimpered as the pain built.  She took out a length
of braided leather that I thought was a whip.  But it wasn't.  She
looped it around my neck and twisted it tight, cutting off my breath.
I stared into her eyes, gasping for breath, not daring to move.  Just
before I blacked out she loosened it and I took a deep, ragged breath.

   She smiled and hung another weight on each clip.  I whimpered as
the pain increased.  She asked me if I wanted her to stop.  I shook my
head.  She started to tighten the cord again.  I grabbed her wrists
and she stopped the pressure and we stared at each other in silence
for a long moment.  I took another deep breath.  And dropped my hands
to my sides.  She smiled.  "Am I to assume that I'm free to strangle
you if I wish?"

   I nodded.  "Yes, my life is yours.  I am your slave."

   She loosened the cord immediately and ordered me up onto the
kitchen table, on my knees, my ankles crossed and my knees spread
wide.  I was in position, watching, when she took a can of Crisco out
of the cabinet.  She set it down and opened it up.  I watched as she
scooped out a lump and began to spread it over her right hand.  She
glanced at me and smiled.  "Ever been fisted?"

   I shook my head.  "No, never."  My voice quavered and she laughed.

   Then she turned a chair around and straddled it.  I stared down at
her as she worked her hand into my cunt, one finger at a time.  When
it was in, a process that took almost 20 minutes, she made a fist and
I gasped.  She turned her fist and pumped it up and down slowly.  I
threw my head back and screamed with pleasure as she worked my clit
with her other hand!

   Gwen laughed.  "Soon you'll take my fist in your ass!"

   I glanced down at her and shook my head.  "Nooooooo.  Not in my
ass.  Please, nooooo."

   She brought me to orgasm twice before easing her hand out of me.  I
knelt there, panting and covered with sweat, while she washed her
hand.  Then she whipped me with the riding crop until I was sobbing
and begging for mercy.

++++++++++

   The events I've described took place nearly a year ago.  Gwen has
continued to live in New York, but she comes up to Greenwich
regularly.  I am her slave, totally and completely.  I've discovered
that I'm a pain slut.  She uses the strangling cord almost every time
and I know that some night she won't loosen it.  She'll sit there,
smiling sweetly, and watch as I strangle to death.  I pray for it.

              THE END.

F/f, b/d by JYM

        The Offer

   The offer was as simple as it was shocking.  And very tempting.  I
was out working in the yard one hot July afternoon when one of my
neighbors dropped by.  I'll call her Hanna to protect the guilty.
Hanna is a wealthy woman in her early forties.  She made her money in
the shoe business and sold out two years ago to a foreign competitor
for enough to live comfortably for a dozen lifetimes.  I've often
wondered why she stayed in our neighborhood of relatively modest
homes.  Hanna is an attractive, fit woman with dark hair and olive
skin.  She's not tall, maybe 5'6", and she's very fit.  Attractive
without being flashy.  She has a nice figure and long, sleek legs.  My
husband thinks she's sexy for an 'older' woman.

   I was kind of surprised to see her come through the gate into my
back yard.  We've know each other for a few years but haven't been
really close.  We chat once in a while when we see each other outside,
but that's about it.  I was working in the garden when I heard the gate
open and I was a little concerned until I saw Hanna.  I stood up and
wiped my hands on the legs of my shorts.  Hanna smiled and said,
"Hello Jill, how are you today?"  I returned her smile.  "Hello Hanna.
I'm fine, how are you?  Won't you sit and talk for a few minutes?"  I
gestured at the patio chairs and we each took a seat.  We chatted
for a while before Hanna made the offer.

   It's no secret in the neighborhood that things haven't been going
well for us.  Jim's business has been struggling for a couple of
years, but he's on the verge of turning it around.  He only needs a
few months, six or eight, to be secure again.  Just a few months more
without pressure and we'll be okay.  I guess Hanna knew that and
decided to take advantage.  Before I reveal her off I should tell you
a little about myself.  My name is Jill Ashton, I'm thirty-one years
old, and have been married for 9 years.  We have two children,
eight-year-old twins who were away at summer camp at the time.  I'm a
tall, athletic blonde with a good figure (34c-26-35) and long, very
nice legs.  I'm not beautiful, at least I don't think of myself as a
beauty, but I am attractive.  My legs are my best feature, long and
sleek, nicely curve with firm thighs and delicately sculpted knees.
I'm not a prude, but I have always been a little conservative.  But I
do like to show off my legs.

   Anyway, Hanna's offer took me by surprise.  She said she was having
a group of friends over the following afternoon for a garden party.
Hanna's backyard is fenced and well-planted with shrubbery and is
totally private, a good place for to have a party in the summer.  She
asked me if I would be willing to tend bar.  She had already hired a
college girl to be the waitress/barmaid.  Before I could say a word
she continued on.  "And I'll pay you $500.  How about it?"  I was
stunned.  $500 for a few hours work?  Even in our neighborhood that
was very good money indeed!  I told her I'd think about it.  I tried
to act cool, but $500 would be a big help to us.  Hanna said, "Fine,
call me and let me know.  By 5 p.m. today please.  Oh, by the way,
you'd have to work nude."

   I'd turned to look out into the garden and it was good that I had
because it kept her from seeing the look of shock on my face.  I
turned back and said, "Oh, I don't think...."
She cut me off.  "$1,000.  Take it or leave it."  Her offer took my
breath away.  How could I turn down a thousand dollars?  It would mean
so much.  I wouldn't be able to tell Jim, but I could feed the money
into the household budget over a few weeks.  I glanced at the garden
once more, then back at Hanna.  "Ok," I said in a whisper.  "I'll do
it."

   Hanna smiled, "Fine, but first I want to see what my guests will
see."  She leaned back with an expectant look on her face.  "And you
can serve me a drink after you've taken your clothes off.  Sort of a
tryout."

   I got up and walked over to the edge of the patio.  It was decision
time.  I knew from the look in Hanna's eyes that there was more to her
offer than just bartending nude.  And, shockingly, I found myself
becoming excited.  I turned back and faced Hanna, staring at the
fence behind her as I peeled my T-shirt off over my head.  Then I
unsnapped my shorts and eased them down over my hips.  As they fell
around my ankles I bent and untied my workboots.  I eased my workboots
off, then took my shorts and dropped them on top of the low stone wall
surrounding the patio.  I straightened up and faced Hanna wearing my
plain cotton underwear and my socks.  She smiled and said, "Leave the
socks on.  You'll be sexier than if you were totally nude."  I nodded
as I reached back to unhook my bra.  My breasts fell free and I
blushed as I tossed my bra on top of my shorts.  My breasts are firm
with no trace of sag.  They're not really big (c-cup), but they are
pretty and my small, dark nipples are very sensitive.  Hanna chuckled
when I blushed, causing me to blush even more.  Then I took a deep
breath and hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties.  One
quick move and then were down around my ankles.  I stepped out of them
and glanced at Hanna.  "What would you like to drink, ma'am?"  I tried
to sound like a barmaid.  Polite, but impersonal.  Hanna grinned and
said, "Gin and Tonic."

   I went inside and mixed her drink.  Then I put it on a small black
tray with a napkin and carried it out to her.  I set the napkin on the
table, placed the glass on it, and said, "Here you are ma'am.  Will
there be anything else?"  Hanna smiled and shook her head.  "No,
you've done very well."  I thanked her and started to turn away,
intending to put my clothes back on, but she touched my hip with the
tips of her fingers and said, "Wait.  Don't rush away."  I stood there
and waited while she tasted her drink.  Her hand still resting lightly
on my hip.  Her touch was strangely....... not unwelcome.  She nodded
her approval and set the glass down.  Then she looked up at me.
"Jill, how long has it been since Jim fucked you?"  I stared at the
fence and whispered, "Six weeks."  It never occurred to me not to
answer.  I wasn't Jill the devoted wife and mother anymore.  I was
away in a different world.  A world where I was Jill the nude barmaid.

   Hanna pushed her chair back from the patio table and then told me
to turn and face the table.  I did as she asked and she told me to put
my hands flat on the table and spread my feet a comfortable distance
apart.  Again, I did as she asked.  She had me move to my left until
my leg bumped against hers.  She had me slide my hands toward the
center of the table, causing me to bend forward from the waist.  Then
I felt her hand slip between my legs.  I closed my eyes and moaned as
she explored my sex with a delicate touch.  I was quickly wet.  As she
explored me I told myself that six weeks is a long time without sex
and I was weak and needed it, anything to justify submitting without
protest.  I leaned over farther and turned my head to one side,
resting it on my right forearm.  The hot surface felt good on my bare
breasts.  Hanna expertly masturbated me to a long, wonderful orgasm.
I lay there, moaning, until it was over.  As I started to move she put
her hand on my back and said, "Wait.  Do you know what the bowling
ball grip is?"  I shook my head.  She chuckled.  Then she plunged her
forefingers deep into my vagina.  At the same time, I felt her thumb
press against my anus.  I gasped and whispered, "No!  Please!"  But
she kept her hand on my back and pushed her thumb into my ass.  I
could feel her thumb and fingers rubbing together, separated only by a
thin membrane of flesh.  Then she lifted upward, raising my feet right
off the ground!  God, it was erotic.  I moaned and whimpered as she
swung me from side-to-side a little.  Then she let me down and
withdrew her fingers from my vagina.  I glanced back over my shoulder
and she smiled.  "Admit it, you like having my thumb in you butt."  I
blushed and nodded.  "Say it," she demanded.  "I like having your
thumb in my butt."  She nodded.  "That's better."

   She eased her thumb out of my ass and wiped her hand on the napkin.
Then she picked up her drink and moved over to sit on the wall.  I
straighten up and walked over to my clothes.  Hanna called my name as
I picked up my panties.  "Jill, don't dress.  Just put your workboots
on and go back to what you were doing.  You will need sunscreen."  I
hesitated, then nodded.  I went in and got a bottle of SPF15 and put
it on all over.  Hanna did my back for me.  Then I put my workboots on
and went back to weeding the garden.  I found it extremely erotic to
work nude with Hanna watching.  It was only 1:00 o'clock.  It would be
hours before Jim would be home.  A few minutes later Hanna called my
name and held up her glass.  I walked up to the patio, conscious every
step of the way of how I must look, nude, gleaming with sweat and
suntan lotion, my breasts bouncing gently.  Hanna's smile reflected
her enjoyment.  I took her glass and went inside to fix her another
drink.  This time, when I served it, she ran the tips of her fingers
over my long, silky pubic hair and asked me if I had ever been shaved.
I shook my head, "No, never."  I turned and walked back to the garden.
A few minutes later I heard Hanna's chair scrape on the flagstones as
she pushed it back from the table.  She walked down to the garden and
watched me weed for a couple of minutes.  Then she picked up the small
garden spade that I'd left lying on the grass.  I glanced up as she
approached.  She crouched in front of me and told me to spread my
knees as far apart as I could and then clasp my hands behind my neck
and keep them there.

   I obeyed.  And watched as she slipped the shovel between my legs
and eased the handle into my cunt.  I took a deep breath and moaned
with pleasure as she fucked me with the handle, deep and hard.  The
smooth lacquered handle slid in and out easily.  I moaned and
whimpered, it was so embarrassing and so wonderful.....  "Oh god, yes!
Fuck me.  Fuck me hard."  Hanna smiled.  "Beg."  I stared at her and
begged.  "Please, fuck me hard.  Fuck me deep.  Please, Hanna!  Oh,
please, fuuuuucccck meeeeeee!"  As I started to cum she shoved the
handle in deep and let go.  Then she grabbed my nipples and squeezed
them hard.  It hurt like hell, but triggered the most fantastic orgasm
of my entire life!  When it was over I was on my knees in the dirt,
the shovel handle deep in my wet cunt.  I looked up at Hanna.  She
reached out and ruffled my hair.  "I'm ready for another drink.  Next
time in the ass?"  A long pause.  "Slave."  I glanced up at her again,
startled.  She held her hand out in front of me.  I kissed it.  "Yes,"
I whispered, "in the ass next time.......mistress."

   I worked nude the rest of the afternoon.  Hanna had me roll in the
rich dark earth while I was all hot and sweaty.  Dirt streaked my
flanks and belly, my tits and my ass, when I went to my knees and
spread myself so she could ass-fuck me with the shovel handle.  By the
time the afternoon was over I was a dirty, sweaty, well-fucked nude
slave.  And happier then I had been in years.  Before she left she
told me that the college girl was a cute redhead, a dominant,
aggressive dyke and I'd have to amuse her guests by satisfying the girl
with my tongue.  I shivered with anticipation.  Before she left, I
crawled to Hanna on my belly and licked her shoes in submission.

              The Offer - II

   The next morning, shortly after Jim left for the office, I got a
call from Hanna.  She told me that she was sending someone over to
help me get ready for the party.  She asked me what I was wearing and
I told her that I had on a robe and a pair of cotton panties.  She
told me to strip and stay nude unless I got permission to dress.  I
slipped the robe off and pushed my panties down over my hips.  Hanna
told me that the girl would be there by 8:30 and I was to obey her as
if it was Hanna herself.  "Yes, ma'am, I understand."  I shivered as I
listened to her instructions.  It was so exciting.  She told me that
if I worked in the garden I was allowed to wear socks, workboots, and
a hat.  And a heavy coating of sunscreen - SPF 15 at least.

   Precisely at 8:30 the doorbell rang.  I glanced out the window and
saw a young woman with brown hair standing on the porch.  She was
about medium height, a little on the stocky side, wearing a T-shirt,
nylon shorts, and jogging shoes.  She was carrying a canvas sports
bag.  I opened the door and let her in.  She didn't seem a bit
surprised to see that I was nude.  She smiled as she looked me over
and said, "Hi, my name is Jenni, Hanna sent me over to give you a
waxing.  Where can we do it?"

   I hesitated and she asked to see the kitchen.  I took her down the
hall to the kitchen and she looked around.  "The table is big enough.
We'll do it here.  I can heat the wax in your microwave.  Why don't
you stretch out on the table and we'll get started."  She set her bag
down on the floor and crouched beside it.  I sat down on the edge of
the table and then eased myself over into the center.  Then I
stretched out on my back and stared at the ceiling.  When Jenni stood
up she had a glass pot filled with wax in her hand.  She put it in the
microwave and set it for 5 minutes on high.  Then she dipped into her
bag again and came up with a handful of leather straps.  She had me
plant my feet flat on the table and then she ran a strap around each
leg below the knee, securing them in position so that I couldn't
straighten them.  The she ran a length of rope from one ankle under
the table and tied it to my other ankle.  Another rope went around the
table at my waist.  Then my wrists were tied to each leg of the table.
I was helpless.  And very excited.

   Jenni stroked my belly and told me that she wouldn't hurt me if she
could help it.  I hesitated and then whispered, "It's okay if you hurt
me a little."  She smiled.  Then she fondled my tits until my nipples
were hard as little pebbles.  "Please," I whispered, "would you mind
taking your clothes off?  I'd love to see your body."  Jenni smiled
and disrobed.  She had a hard, athletic body, a little stocky, but
very sexy.  Her pubic mound was smooth and bare.  Her breasts were
round and firm, tipped with big dark nipples.  Her stomach was flat
and firm.  Hips a little broad, but not too broad.  Tight smooth
buttocks.  Strong thighs.  She checked the wax and put it on for
another five minutes.  Meanwhile, she laid out strips of cheesecloth.
Each strip 2" wide and about 6" long.

   While the wax heated, she took a pair of scissors and trimmed my
pubic hair.  Then she spread my cunt lips and slipped two fingers into
me.  I raised my hips to meet her and she grinned.  "Do you want and
orgasm?"  I nodded.  "Yes, oh yes!  Please!  Masturbate me."  She did,
very skillfully.  I sobbed with pleasure as I felt my orgasm build.
Jenni chuckled.  "God, you're a hot bitch.  You'll make a fantastic
slave!"  Then she picked up a pair of hot pads and retrieved the pot
of hot wax from the microwave.  Working quickly, she placed a strip of
cheesecloth across my pubic mound and spooned warm wax onto it.  She
laid down three strips in quick succession and then put the pot back in
the microwave.  As soon as the wax was dry she grabbed the end of the
first strip and ripped it off.  I bit my lip to keep from screaming as
my pubic hair was ripped out.  The second and third strips followed,
leaving me whimpering in pain, tears streaming down my face.  She
repeated the process until I was smooth and bare, not a trace of hair
anywhere down there.  Then she rubbed a fragrant body lotion over my
mound to soothe the skin.

   After she released me, she had me get onto my hands and knees on
the table.  She stroked my breasts and belly with one hand and my back
and buttocks with the other.  After a while I was really turned on.  I
loved the position, my tits hanging, my sex totally exposed.  I
turned my head and glanced up at her.  "Please...." I whispered.  She
smiled.  "Hot are we?  Beg for it.  Tell me what you are and beg."

   I stared at her and begged.  "Please, please masturbate me.  Oh
god!  Please!  I'm a slut.  A nude slave slut.  Please, let me cum!
Please, I'll do anything you ask."  I wiggled my ass and pressed back
against her hand which was lightly cupping my sex.  "Anything?
Really?"  I nodded, "Yes, anything."  She smiled and began to rub my
clit lightly with the tip of one finger.  I moaned and pushed myself
against her hand.  She brought me to orgasm quickly and skillfully and
I yelped and whimpered as I came, turning my head to lick her left
hand which was resting on my shoulder.  She smiled and told me that I
was a good little slut.  I continued to lick her hand and she seemed
to enjoy it.  Then she brought her right, soaked with my juices,
around I licked it clean, enjoying the taste of my own cunt.

   After a few minutes she said, "Enough, now it's my turn."  I knelt
up straight and asked her what she wanted.  She got a faraway look in
her eye and whispered, "Paaaiiinnn, I want pain."  Then she snapped
back, eyes focused, and asked me if I was going to work in my garden.
I nodded, "Yes, I thought I'd spend a couple of hours weeding and
thinning some things out.  Why?"  She told me to get ready and she'd
meet me in back.  She dressed quickly and disappeared out the back
door.  I put sunscreen on everyplace I could reach.  Then socks and my
workboots and a baseball cap.  When I went out into the back yard she
was waiting for me.  She'd brought in a t-shaped arrangement made of
1" galvanized pipe.  The upright section was 10' long and consisted of
two pieces, one sharpened on the end.  The other threaded into a
fitting on the top.  The crossbar, really two pieces, fit into a
t-fitting on the top of the upper section.  Each crosspiece was 3.5'
long.  She drove the first section of the upright into the ground with
a 3lb hammer, putting a small length of 2x4 on top of the pipe to
hammer on.  Then she threaded the crosspieces into the upper section
and tightened them with a small pipe wrench.  Finally, she threaded
the top part into the lower section.  Then she took two plastic tent
stakes and drove them into the ground about 6' out from the upright on
either side.

   She had two folding stepstools.  She explained that she would stand
on one and I on the other.  Then I would strap her wrists to the
crossbar.  When that was done, I would put leather restraints on each
of her ankles and tie a long piece of rope to each.  Then I would pull
the stool out and let her hang by her wrists.  Then I would take the
ropes tied to the ankle restraints and tie them to the tent stakes,
making sure that she was spread as wide as possible.  "And then you
put these in me and these on me."  She held up two enormous dildos and
a selection of weighted clamps.  "For my nipples and labia and one for
my clit."  The last item was a penis gag that would muffle her
screams.  "Let me hang for at least an hour.  The wrist restraints
won't cut off my circulation, so it will be safe."

   I was quite excited as I strapped her wrists into the leather
restraints.  Then I put the restraints on her ankles and tied the
ropes to them.  I hung the clamps on her nipples, enjoying her grunt
of pain as I tugged each one to be sure it was tight.  Then another
grunt of pain as I pulled the stool away.  I quickly grabbed one rope
and pulled it as tight as I could before tying it off.  The second one
was done just as quickly.  I looked at her and enjoyed the way she was
spread and helpless.  She was staring at the fence with a vacant
expression on her face.  I put the dildoes into her, enjoying the way
she squirmed and grunted as I drove them in tight with the heel of my
hand.  Then the weights on her labia and clit.  She was moaning in
pain now, but I felt it needed something else.  I went inside and got
a box of straight pins out of my sewing kit.  Her eyes widened and she
shook her head, grunting and screaming into the gag.  I ignored her
and drove a pin through the aureole of each nipple, on the top side.
She screamed and tears streamed down her face.  I put pins through
both labia.  And then one through her clit.  She was sobbing and
screaming, and a trickle of urine was running down her thighs as I
walked away to do my gardening.

   I let her hang for the full hour she'd requested.  When I went back
to release her she was moaning and twitching.  I took the gag out
first, standing on the stepstool to be close to her.  I asked her if
she'd had enough.  She nodded.  "Please let me down.  Oh shit!
Please."  I got down and positioned the stool for her.  Then I untied
the ropes from the tent stakes and positioned her feet on the stool.
I removed the ankle restraints and then climbed up on the other stool
and released her wrists.  I helped her down and she sank to her knees
in the grass, moaning with pain.  I removed the dildoes, then the
clamps, and finally the pins.  She looked up and whispered, "Thank you
for that delicious pain."  She stayed there for a few minutes until
she recovered.  Then she got dressed, packed up, and left.  It was
time for me to shower and prepare for my stint as a nude bartender.

             End of Chapter II

The Offer (part 3) by Jay (following JYM lead)
==============================================
While I was taking the shower, I thought a lot. I wasn't even sure if I
was heading to Hannah's house after all. What had just happened
puzzled me and I didn't know what to do about it. I must confess that I was a
bit scared by what I have done. When the wall clock rang noon, I haven't
figure out anything yet. I couldn't eat and I
remained with just my breakfast in my tummy. Finally, I decided to go
through the entire plan after all.

Hannah said that she wanted me to arrive no later than one o'clock, so I
put a pair of jeans, a tank top and a pair of sandals, knowing too well
that I wasn't keeping my clothes for very long. I practically ran to
Hannah's house which was only a few hundred feet away from my place.

Hannah was expecting me and she opened the front door herself before I
could push the doorbell button. She had this strange smile again when
she motioned me to enter her house. She closed the door and she simply
ordered me to take my clothes off. In a matter of seconds, I shed my
top, took off the sandals, lowered my jeans and threw them away. I
wondered for just a moment and I kneeled before Hannah, hoping it would
please her. Once again, Hannah showed me that special smile, full of
lust, while saying :

" You're a fast learner, Jill! "

She moved back a little to get a better view of my body and she add :

" Let me look at your pussy, dear! "

I spread my thighs to display my shaven cunt and let her inspect it to
her satisfaction. Finally, Hannah explained that from now on, I was
expected to keep myself in that manner and that she would make sure that
Jenni performs her talents on me on a regular basis.

" Now, let's go meet your partner, Jill! Stand up and follow me to the
garden! "

I raised from the floor and walked after Hannah through the house and
the back patio where a table was set with a big bowl of punch and other
drinks. But I only took a glance at those, my eyes were fast drawn by
the sight of a very pretty redhead girl, almost a teenager who was
approaching the two of us. As I, she was naked, her pussy also shaven.
She had those perfect round tits, my guess would be at least 36D. I
would have sold my soul to play with her breasts.

" This is Kathy! " said Hannah with her strange smile.

And turning toward the readhead girl, she continued :

" Jill Ashton is going to help you this afternoon. Why don't you show
her the place, dear? "

Having to go change herself for the party, Hannah left me in the hands
of Kathy. My pretty friend explained in details what I was supposed to
do and she took the time to ask about my personal experience as a
bartender, just to check if I could mix the cocktails the right way. She
also showed me where everything was set, in case anything required some
special attention.

" Do you know how many people will attend? " I asked Kathy almost
breathless.

The redhead stopped for a minute, going through her mind and she finally
answered :

" About twenty people, Jill! Does that bother you? "

I raised my shoulders and explained :

" You know, it's going to be the first time that so many people will see
me naked, except when I was at school after the gym to take a shower! "

" Don't worry, Jill, " told me Kathy. " It's always the first minutes
that are the hardest to get through, but just do your job and everything
will go fine, at least for the first part of the party. "

I shuddered in expectation, certainly not because of the weather. I
refrained myself to ask what was in store for me after the initial part. What
I already
knew about Hannah could mean a lot of frightening things.
*
Most of the guests arrived at two o'clock, going first to one or the
other available bedrooms in Hannah's house to change into their fetish
clothes, then to the garden where Kathy and I served them some drinks.
The thing didn't struck me until the final guest had arrived, but all
were females. A few came alone, but most were there as a couple,
apparently mistress and slave. Mistress were mostly dressed in leather
or latex; I wondered how much these elaborate wears might cost, but I
didn't dare ask anybody. For the slaves, well, they weren't dress very
much, to say the least. This helped me feel a little bit more at ease, I
might say.

Suddenly, I recognized one of the last people who had arrived, it was
Jenni. She was naked except for a black leather collar with D rings; she
still carried the bruised and marks from this morning activities. A
beautiful and tall lady was leading her by a leash clasped to one of the
ring. Jenni was smiling uncomfortably to her and she said something about me
to
her mistress. The unknown lady took a glimpse toward me and she smiled
too. I wondered what Jenni might have told her, but I couldn't take my
eyes of those two for sometime. Kathy even had to remind me that I had things
to care of.

I straightened up and continued to serve Hannah's guests, but I took
every opportunities to look at Jenni's mistress. No doubt that she was
stunning at about 6 feet tall, with blue eyes and long and curly black
hairs. She must be doing a lot of exercises to keep in shape like that.

Later in the afternoon, Hannah announced that I was going to show my
talents upon Kathy. Everybody moved around us in a circle, mistresses
and slaves alike without discrimination. Kathy gave me some pointers. I
dropped to the ground and crawled to her feet in submission. I kissed
her left feet, then her right one and I even licked them until she said
that it was enough of that. She grabbed me by my hair and raised me to a
kneeling position. In just a moment, Kathy transformed herself into a
fury. She slapped my face twice and ordered in a stern voice :

" Now, slave, you're going to lick my pussy and you better do a good job! "

Still shaken by the face slapping, I moved closer to her pussy and,
closing my eyes, I sank. I wasn't that much experienced in pussy
licking, but I managed to bring Kathy to orgasm in a few
minutes. I must have some talents after all. My face was covered with
her juices, but I didn't dare stop lapping her. When she had enough, she
pushed me away and I tumbled to the ground, not knowing what to do. Was
that all there was in store for me? Oh! no, thanks to Hannah who asked, to my
amazement,
if somebody was interested in putting a price on myself.

I was flabbergasted to hear such things, but I remained silent. I heard
some discussions around us and after a few minutes, a woman voice shouted :

" A thousand dollar ".

My head spined to where the voice had came from as it was one I have never
heard before. I was a bit surprised to find that my potential buyer was
Jenni's mistress, but it could have been worse!

Hannah explained to her :

" It was a joke, Laurie! She's married and can't be sold that easily! "

" I already know that, Hannah, Jenni told me all about her, but still
I'd like to have her at my place from time to time to entertain me. I
heard that she might be a good switch too! "

The new revelation took Hannah offgarded and she turned to me, puzzled and
she asked :

" It's about time that I hear what happened this morning, Jill! "

I was scared to tell Hannah and all of her guests what took place after
Jenni finished her shaving job, but Laurie decided that she rather tell
the story herself from her own perspective. She pushed Jenni forward and
showed everybody all the bruises and marks that I was responsible for,
adding some remarks about my skills. Some mistresses approached and
touched the markings on Jenni's body, caressing them with delights
giggling between themselves. Laurie came to me and whispered in my ear :

" I'd like you to come to my place tomorrow, Jill, and ... the thousand
dollars offer still stands, you know! "

The idea that I would sell my body didn't bother me a bit, then and not more
afterwards either.
What did you know? I might be two thousands dollars richer in a few
days! That would help Jim and me, no doubt and I even might get some
pleasure along the way.

end of chapter III

The Operation by JYM

   The doctor told me that it was a relatively minor procedure but I
would still be in the hospital for four or five days.  I was having
surgery to correct a minor bowel problem, nothing serious, but I
wanted to get it out of the way while there was a lull between
seasons.  I'm a law student, but I pay my way through school by
working as a catalog model.  Catalogs come out all year 'round, but
I'm mostly used in spring and summer catalogs - I'm the healthy,
girl-next-door type and I do a lot of sports clothes, swim suits,
summer dresses.  I get some work for fall/winter catalogs too, but I
make the bulk of my money on the spring/summer issues.

   I'm tall, dark-haired and olive-skinned.  My hair is short now
because it's more convenient.  I can wash it, blow dry, and run my
fingers through it and I'm all set for the day.  I'm tall, 5'9" and
have a good figure (34c-24-35) and long sleek legs.  My legs are my
best feature and I've done some stocking advertisments too.  As for
the rest of my background - well, I've been married but it only lasted
a year.  He wanted a housewife & kids, I wanted law school and a career.

   I went into the hospital on a Monday afternoon.  The doctor told me
they do some final tests, prep me, and I'd go down first thing in the
morning for surgery.  He warned me not to eat anything after 9 a.m.
God, I thought I'd starve.  I arrived at the hospital at 2:00 p.m. and
I was feeling hunger pangs already.  I went through the admissions
process and was in my room by 3:30.  They drew some blood and took
some final x-rays.  Then I settled down with a book and waited.

   It was shortly after 7:00 p.m. when a young woman entered the room
pushing a small utility cart.  She told me that her name was Kari.
"I'm a student nurse," she explained, "I'm here to prep you for
tomorrow.  I need to shave you and give you an enema."  I frowned and
she grinned.  "I know, it's terrible, but those are my orders."  She
closed the door and locked it.  "Now we won't have anyone poking their
head in at the wrong time."

   I studied her as she positioned the cart and arranged the shaving
gear.  She was a redhead with green eyes and freckles and she looked
very young.  She had to be at least 19 or 20, but she looked 15 or 16.
She was small and slim, no more than 5'4" and 112 pounds, and you had
to look twice or three times before you realized how pretty she really
was.  She took a small basin into the bathroom and filled it with warm
water.  When she returned I asked her how old she was.  She blushed
and said, "I hate that question!  I'm 20.  I'm begining my third year
of nursing school.  And I know what I'm doing!  Any more questions?"
I shook my head and tried to hide my smile.  I'd gotten to her and I was
satisfied.

   I was wearing a nightgown I'd brought from home.  She glanced at it
and suggested I change into one of the hospital gowns and then change
back after the operation.  I hesitated, but it was a good idea and I
nodded and asked her to get me one.  She left and returned in a minute
with one of those awful gowns that tie in the back, but never very
well.  She went to refill the basin while I changed and I appreciated
her tact.  When she returned she set the basin down and had me lay
back with legs spread as wide.  She drew my gown up until I was fully
exposed.  She clipped my pubic hair short and then used a washcloth
dipped in hot water to soften the stubble a little.  This was followed
by a quick application of shaving cream.  All accompanied by a steady
stream of chatter designed to put me at ease.  And it worked for the most
part.

   She took her time and shaved me very carefully and very thoroughly.
I was surprised to find that it was very erotic to be shaved by her.
You can't be modest and be a model, but this was different and I was
uncomfortable when she first pulled my gown up.  When she was done
shaving me she washed me with the washcloth.  I looked down and saw
that I was as smooth and as bare as I'd been back before puberty.  I'd
never shaved completely and found it strangely erotic.  She touched my
hip with the tips of my fingers and asked if I wanted to draw my feet
up and take the enema on my back or roll over and pull my knees up
under me.  I hesitated and she said it would be better if I was lying
face down with my bottom in the air.  I nodded and started to roll
over.  She stopped me.  "Wait, it will take me a couple of minutes to
fill the bag.  About 3 quarts for you, I think.  The doctor doesn't
want to take any chances.  He wants you fully cleaned out."

   When she returned with the bag she hung it from a hook on the IV
stand and told me to roll over.  I shook my head.  "No, I've changed
my mind.  No enema!"  She frowned and said, "Roll over!  You have to
have an enema.  Don't make me get tough with you!"

   I had to smile, which turned out to be a mistake.  She got mad!
Really mad.  "Roll over or I'll turn you over my knee and give you a good
spanking!"

   I shook my head and told her I'd complain and get her fired.  She
chuckled.  "Would you really?  Complain, I mean?  That you wouldn't
take an enema and got spanked by a student nurse?  I don't think so.
It would be too embarassing!"

   She had a point and I was suddenly scared.  With good reason.  She
grabbed my hand and applied a hold her brother, a cop, had taught her.
Before I realized it, I was out of bed and being led over to one of
the two chairs in the room.  Kari sat down, retaining her grip on my
hand.  "Reach up and untie your gown."  I shook my head, but she
twisted her wrist and I went up on the tips of my toes to counteract
the sudden pain.  "Please.... I'll do it."  She eased up and I reached
up with my free hand and untied the gown.  It slipped to the floor.  A
few seconds later I was lying across her lap.  I was stunned.  Here I
was, a grown woman about to be spanked like a naughty schoolgirl and
by a girl who barely qualified as an adult!

   She told me she was going to spank me until I asked her to stop and
give me the enema.  "Not likely," I muttered under my breath.  She
heard me and chuckled.  "We'll see."  Then I felt her shift her
weight.  She was still holding my left hand in the 'come-along' grip
with her left hand, pinning it in the small of my back.  Her right
hand went up and fell - hard.  Smaaaacck!  My head came up and I bit
my lip to keep silent, determined not to show how much it hurt.  But
after five or six hard blows I was crying.  She was merciless.
Smaaaaccck!  Smaaaacck!  I was sobbing and whimpering, tears streaming
down my face.  I lost count after 15 or 16.  I broke down soon after
and turned my head to beg.  "Please, stop!  Please!  Please give me
the enema now."  She stopped immediately and let me up.

   I walked back to the bed and lay down on my stomach, drawing my
knees up under my body to elevate my bottom.  I had my face turned
away from her, but she stroked my hip gently and told me to turn and
face her.  I did and she wiped my tears away with her fingertips.
Then I felt her spread my buttocks with one hand while guiding the
enema nozzle with the other.  She slipped the greased nozzle into my
anus and pushed it in far enough so that it wouldn't slip out.  Then
she released the clip and I felt the warm soapy water flow into my
bowels.  Kari stroked my back and bottom with both hands and talked to
me in a low, soothing voice.  "That's better now, isn't it?  You're
being a good girl.  You do want to be a good girl, don't you?  Answer me,
Ellen."

   I turned my head a little and looked up at her.  "Yes, Kari, I want
to be a good girl."  And the shocking thing was that it was true.  I
wanted to be good.  I wanted her to be happy with me.  "This is
embarassing for you, isn't it?"  I nodded.  She smiled, "But you like
it, don't you?  The embarassment, I mean.  And the loss of control."

   I thought about it for a moment and realized that she was right.  I
did like it.  I'd even liked being spanked.  Not while it was
happening, but looking back on it was exciting.  And the possibility
of being spanked again was even more exciting.  "Yes, Kari, I like it.
I like not being in control.  I like having you control me."

   She continued to stroke and soothe me until the bag was empty.  She
wiggled the nozzle in my ass for a few seconds before removing it.  I
moaned with pleasure and  turned my head to kiss her hand.  She helped
me sit up and I groaned.  My belly was rounded as if I was pregnant
and I felt cramped.  She ran her hand over my belly and said, "Next
time I'll give you a full gallon!"  I moaned.  She helped me up and
walked me to the bathroom.  She let me sit on the toilet, but told me
to hold it until she gave me permission to expel it.  She stood in
front of my and stroked my hair and cheeks.  I kissed and licked her
hands.  "Please, Kari, let me move my bowels.  Please!"

   She crouched in front of my and pushed my knees apart.  I blushed,
embarassed but also excited.  She stroked my thighs and told me how
beautiful they were.  She cupped my breasts and fondled them gently,
teasing my nipples erect with her thumbs.  I moaned with pleasure.
"Please.... Kari.... let me do it."  She shook her head and slid one
hand down across my belly.  I moaned and pushed my hips forward as the
tips of her fingers grazed my sex.  "Ellen, what do you want?"

   I took a deep breath and looked right into her eyes.  "I want to be
masturbated.  Please...."
   She smiled.  "When you're clean and back in bed.  Expel now."
   I closed my eyes, but she pinched me and said, "Look at me while you do
it."

   I opened my eyes and stared at her as I pushed.  My sphincter
relaxed and the water gushed out of me in a rush.  It was so
embarassing.  So fantastic!  She left me then, telling me to shower
and get back into bed.  "I'll come and masturbate you later if you're
a good girl."  I nodded and she turned and left.  I was adjusting the
water in the shower when the door opened again.  It was Kari with my
nightgown.  She hung it on the back of the door.  "See you in a
while."  I smiled and stepped into the shower.

   I was dozing when Kari returned about ninety minutes later.  She
put her hand on my forehead for a moment and I turned my head toward
her, licked the palm of her hand.  She brushed my hair back and asked
if I was ok.  I nodded and smiled.  "Yes, everything's fine."  We
chatted for a couple of minutes and she stroked my forehead and cheeks
the whole time.

   "Ellen, are you scared about tomorrow?"
   "Yes," I whispered.  "I know it's a *minor* operation, but it still
scares me."  I paused.  "But it helps when you're here.  I love having
you touch me."  Another, longer pause.  "Please, will you masturbate me now?"

   She smiled and nodded, drawing the sheet down to my knees.  I
lifted myself as she pulled my nightgown up around my waist.  She
stroked my thighs gently and I opened them for her.  "What about after
you leave the hospital?"

   I glanced up at her.  I hadn't thought about that.  But the answer
was simple.  I caught her left hand in both of mine and brought it to
my mouth.  I kissed the back of her hand and licked the palm.  "It's
up to you," I whispered.  "I'm yours."

   She smiled and leaned to kiss me lightly on the lips.  "Don't you
forget it.  You belong to me now."  And then she straightened up and
slipped her hand between my legs.  I closed my eyes and lost myself in
the waves of pleasure that she generated as she teased my clit before
slipped two fingers into my wet, eager pussy.  I arched my back and
thrust myself upward as she rubbed my clit with the ball of her thumb
while thrusting two fingers as deep into me as she could.  When I
started to whimper and moan she put her left hand over my mouth to
muffle the sounds.  I came with a rush and she pressed her hand
against my mouth to stifle my scream of pleasure.  God, it was
fantastic!  Afterward, I licked my pussy juice from her fingers and
loved that too.

   The next morning, when I went down to surgery, Kari was there and
took me down herself.  In the elevator she showed me a delicate gold
ankle bracelet with a little engraved disk that read "Kari's Slave".
I smiled and asked her to put it on for me.  She did.  Five days
later, when I left the hospital, Kari was waiting with her car.  She
settled me in the passenger seat and drove me home to my new life as
her slave.

           THE END?

The Saleswoman. By JYM

    I was desperate to make the sale and willing to do almost
anything to close the deal.  The real estate market had been in the
pits for more than a year and I was feeling the pinch.  I hadn't made
a sale in months and I knew the company was planning on cutting the
sales staff to reduce overhead.  My husband, Paul, and I were too
deeply in debt for me to allow that to happen.

    My name is Kate Ash and I was twenty-six years old at the time
these events took place, almost four years ago.  My husband and I had
been married for three years and I was nearly three months pregnant
with our first child.  Jim's a teacher and my income was, and still
is, a necessity.  We'd just bought a house ourselves and were heavily
in debt.  If I lost my job we'd be ruined financially.

    I'm an attractive, athletic blonde with a good figure and very
beautiful legs.  I have brown eyes and freckles and I'm 5'4" tall.  I
know I'm good looking but I've never been vain about it.  It was just
a fact of life, the result of good genes.  But when things started to
go bad, I knew that my looks were one more asset that might help.  So
I started wearing shorter skirts and more flattering blouses.  I'm
kind of small on top, 34b, but......

    Anyway, I was showing a nice colonial to a 30ish couple from
out of state, both professionals who were being transferred here by
the company that employed both of them.  They were typical yuppies -
well-educated, making good salaries, and driving a Volvo.  They were
living the good life and not making any excuses about it.  Both of
them were rather good looking and I could tell that he was rather stuck on
himself.

    The wife, who's name was Kim, was more down-to-earth and I
found her rather likeable.  She was taller than me, almost 5'10", and
a redhead with green eyes and a slender build.  She was pretty but not
vain about it.  She always wore slacks or jeans but still managed to look
very stylish.

    I'd shown them a dozen houses and the colonial was the only
one they liked enough to go back to for a second look.  I found myself
hoping that they'd make an offer.  The house was going for just over
$300,000 and my commission would go a long way toward relieving the
financial pressure.  They were still undecided after their second look
and said they wanted to think things over.  They gave me the number of
the hotel where they were staying and promised to call me the following
morning.

    The next morning passed without a call and I had to resist a
strong urge to call them.  I didn't want to appear too anxious.  Then,
about 1:00 p.m., I got a call from Kim.  She said she wanted to see
the house again and asked me to pick her up.  She mentioned that her
husband was out on his own and wouldn't be coming with us.  I picked
her up in front of the hotel a few minutes later.  It was a hot humid
day, typical August weather around here, and she was wearing a leather
vest over sleeveless top made of white skinny-ribbed cotton, a short
leather skirt, and sandals.  Her legs were bare and I felt a momentary
flash of jealousy because they were very beautiful, even more
beautiful than mine.  The leather gave her an exotic look that was
slightly disturbing in ways I couldn't define.

    When she got into the car she gave me a big smile and said,
"Okay, let's go.  I'm in the mood to buy!"  She settled into the seat,
turning toward me slightly after buckling her seat belt.  Her skirt
rode up to show a lot of her long, firm thighs.

    I was in a good mood as we drove out to the house.  I had a
prospect who was in a buying mood!  We chatted about politics,
schools, neighborhoods, and quite a variety of other topics.  Once
inside the house, Kim wanted the full tour all over again - basement
to attic.  We spent over an hour examining every room.  Then we went
over the yard and the garage - 2 car, attached.  Finally, we wound up
back in the kitchen.  The house was empty, devoid of furniture, so I
wasn't surprised when Kim hoisted herself onto the counter by the
sink.  I picked up my briefcase and set it down on the island, then
turned to face her, leaning back against the island.  "Well, what do you
think?"

    She hesitated and kicked her sandals off before replying.  "I
like the house.  I'm prepared to sign an offer at the asking price.
And I'll mention this - the company is making a major move into this
area.  I'll be spearheading the relocation of certain employees."  She
paused and glanced out the window before continuing.  "About 50 of
them, and I'll be in a position to recommend a real estate agency to
handle things on this end.  Exclusively."

    I caught my breath.  She was talking big money!  "That sounds
great!"  It was hard to keep the enthusiasm out of my voice.

    "I'll sign the offer now.  But first I want you to do
something for me."  And she looked me right in the eye, pinning me
with those big green eyes that seemed to look right through me.

    "What do you want me to do?"  I was wary of some proposal for
kicking back part of my commission.

    She smiled and said, "Beg."
    I guess my shock showed because I heard her chuckle as I
glanced out the window and than back at her.  "I'm sorry?  What did
you say?"  I'd heard her, but I thought I must be mistaken.

    "Beg.  I want you to beg me to buy the house."
    I stared at her in shock!  I'd heard right and my reaction was
confusing me - part of me was scared and appalled, but part of me was
very excited.  I felt flushed, my throat constricted - like I might
cry.  I wanted to tell her to go to hell, but I felt like I had when I
was a child.  You know what I mean, when a parent knows you've done
something wrong and wants you to admit it or be punished - you know
you should admit it but some perverse part of you keeps you from doing
it.  So you get punished.  That's how I felt at that moment.

    I opened my mouth to speak and she waved her hand, "No, on
your knees.  Get down on your knees and beg."

    I stared into her eyes as I dropped to my knees.  "Please,
Kim, buy the house.  Please, I'm begging.  I need the sale.  Please."
I felt a strange sense of satisifaction as I knelt before her.  It was
mixed with humiliation, disgust, and a huge dose of excitement.

    She watched, swinging one foot idly.  "Not bad, but you can do
better."  She paused for a moment, thinking.  "Kiss my foot and then beg some
more."

    I swallowed the lump in my throat and leaned forward.  As I
kissed her foot, I wondered what my husband or my friend's would think
if they saw me.  I kissed her foot and whispered, "Please, please, buy
the house.  Please, I'll do.....anything."  I glanced up and saw the
smile of satisfaction on her face.

    She snapped her fingers.  "Give me the offer and I'll sign it."
    I jumped up and got the paperwork out of my briefcase.  I put
in the asking price and the date and gave it to her to sign.  She
signed and handed it back without comment and I replaced it in my
briefcase.  When I turned around, she was standing close behind me.
She reached out and cupped my chin in her hand, raising my face until
I was staring right into her eyes.  "You enjoyed it, didn't you?"

    I hesitated, then shook my head and whispered, "No!  I didn't, it was
humiliating!"
    She chuckled, tightening her grip on my chin.  "That's why you
enjoyed it!  Isn't it?  And don't lie to me again, not now, not ever!"

    I stared at her in silence for a moment, then glanced away.
"Yes, damn you!  I enjoyed it.  Are you satisified?"  And I started to cry.

    She shook her head.  "No, I'm not satisfied.  Not yet.  Not
for a long time."  She was still holding my chin with one hand.  I
felt the other touch the front of my blouse and I realized that she
was unbuttoning it.  I grabbed her wrist with both hands and held on tightly.


    She leaned closer and hissed, "Drop your hands to your sides
and don't ever raise them to me again!"  I held her for a moment and
then dropped my hands to my sides.  I stared at a freckle on her neck,
tears running down my cheeks, as she unbuttoned my blouse and pushed it open.

    Then she released me and stepped back.  "Unhook your bra and bare your
breasts."
    I was past resisting.  My bra hooked in front.  I unhooked it
and opened it to expose my breasts.  She smiled.  "Nice!  Pretty tits
and I love those big, pink nipples.  Finish undressing now and then
get down on your knees."

    As I shrugged my blouse off I asked, "Why?  You're a married
woman!  Why are you doing this?"

    "That's a fair question.  First of all, Ken is a prop.  Our
marriage is a marriage of convenience.  He's gay and so am I.  Does
the term 'leather dyke' mean anything to you?"

    I shook my head as I folded my blouse and laid it on the
counter.  She smiled, "My what a sheltered life you've led!  Well, to
make it short and simple - I'm heavily into leather - S&M - and I'm
looking for a slave.  A pretty little slave like you!"

    I folded my bra and put it on top of my blouse as I stepped
out of my shoes.  I glanced at Kim and said, "May I ask a question?"
She nodded, so I asked.  "What made you think you could enslave me?"

    She shrugged.  "Instinct.  I sensed a strong submissive streak
in you.  It seemed to me as if you were ready.  And you are, aren't
you?  By the way, you should address me as Miss Kim, or ma'am."

    I was unbuttoning my skirt and I paused, "Yes, ma'am.  I was
ready but I didn't know it.  I've felt as if something was missing and
now...."  I let my voice trail off.  I didn't know how to explain how
I felt.  Any words I could think of would sound trite.  I slipped my
skirt off and folded it.  That left me wearing white thigh highs and a pair
of thong panties.

    Kim glanced at my legs and said, "Leave the stockings on.
You'll seem more naked that if you were totally nude."

    I nodded and slipped my panties down.  They joined the pile.
Then I dropped to my knees and faced my mistress.  She snapped her
fingers.  "Come to me on your belly.  Lick my feet in submission.  Beg for
slavery."

    I felt a jolt of excitement as I listened to her.  Then I was
on my belly, licking her feet.  "Please, ma'am, take me as your slave.
I want to be your slave.  Please.... I'll do anything!  Please...."

    "You are a submissive little slut, aren't you?"
    "Yes, Miss Kim, I'm a submissive slut.  And I want to be your
slave."  I continued to lick her feet, rubbing myself against the floor.

    She let me grovel for several minutes.  Then she said, "Enough, slave!
Get up."
    I got to my feet and she cupped my breasts, lifting them to
test their weight and running her thumbs over my nipples.  They
immediately hardened into tight, pointed nubs.  I moaned and
whispered, "Oh, God!  That feels soooo good!"

    She chuckled.  "Enjoy it while you can!  In a minute you're
going to clasp your hands behind your neck and walk over to the
sliding glass door.  You're going to press yourself against it and
stand there while I whip your tight little ass until you can't stand
it and wet yourself."

    I moaned.  "No, please....."  But, of course, I obeyed when
she told me to take my stockings off and get into position.  Totally
nude now, I clasped my hands behind my neck and walked over to the
door.  I spread my legs a little more than shoulder width apart and
pressed myself against the glass.  Despite the head, the glass felt
cool against my breasts, belly, and thighs.  Kim took a braided
leather whip out of her purse.  It was about 18" long and had a wrist strap.

    I held my breath as she moved up behind me.  "This is going to
hurt.  Go ahead and scream if you want, but don't move.  It you move
I'll make your turn around and I'll whip your tits!  I'll stop when you piss."

    I leaned my forehead against the glass and whispered, "Please, nooooo."
    She came up behind me and touched my shoulder.  "I'll give you
one chance.  You can put your clothes on and leave.  I'll still buy
the house and still use you as the primary agent for relocations."
Then she leaned and kissed me on the shoulder.

    I glanced over my shoulder and our eyes met.  I held her eyes
with mine for a long minute before whispering, "Whip me.  Whip me now
before I change my mind.  Whip me so that I know I'm a slave!"

    She stepped back and I saw the motion of her arm reflected in
the glance.  I tensed.  The whip cut across my buttocks and I bit my
lip to keep from screaming.  It burned like fire!  I whimpered and the
tears started to flow.  Each stroked caused me to jump and press
myself against the glass.  My wet pussy smeared my juices on the clean
glass.  I was sobbing aloud by the sixth stroke.  I began to scream on
the next one.  By the tenth I was screaming and sobbing continuously.
I begged for mercy and promised to be a good slave.  She continued to
whip me with hard, even strokes that cut across my buttocks and thighs
like a hot wire.  I began to dance from foot to foot, screaming and
begging.  She raised her aim and the whip cut across my back.  The tip
catching the side of my breast.  Four or five of those were enough.  I
let go and pissed, sobbing in pain and humiliation - delicious humiliation.

    The whipping stopped immediately.  Kim waited until I was done
pissing.  The she told me to turn around.  She was crouching, holding
a vibrator in her right hand, the base of the vibrator braced against
her thigh.  "Keep your hands clasped behind your neck and come over
here.  Straddle my leg and fit yourself onto the vibrator."

    I walked over to her, leaving wet footprints on the floor, and
straddled her leg.  I lowered myself and moaned as I felt the vibrator
touch my pussy lips.  She had it turned on.  I eased myself down onto
it and she used her free hand to play with my nipples while I fucked
myself on the vibrator.  After my orgasm, she kissed me on the mouth
and told me that I was going to make a fantastic sex slave.  There
were paper towels and glass cleaner in one of the cabinets.  Kim told
me to clean up the mess I'd made.  "But first, soak your panties in
piss and then put them in your mouth."

    I got down on my knees, sobbing, and soaked my panties in the
puddle of urine.  Then I put them in my mouth.  Then, totally
humiliated, I cleaned the floor on my hands and knees.  Kim made me
keep the wet panties in my mouth until we left the house.  Then, just
before we walked out the door, she let me take them out of my mouth.
"Stuff them in your ass."  I glanced at her and obediently lifted my
skirt and stuffed the wet panties into my ass.

    As we walked down the steps, Kim asked me if there was
anything I wanted to say.  I hesitated, then said, "I'm three months
pregnant."

    She put her hand on my arm and stopped me.  "Kate, are you
sure you don't want to back out of this?"

    I nodded.  "I'm sure.  I want to be a slave.  Your slave."  I
hesitated.  "Your consideration is appreciated.  But I'm a slave."

    She nodded.  "Yes, you are."
    We walked to my car and got in.  On the way back to her office
she asked me what I was going to do about Paul.  I shrugged.  "Do you
want me to stay with him?  Or shall I divorce him?"

    "I'm amazed that your so ready to do this!  Does he know you're pregnant?"
    "No, not yet.  I was going to tell him in a week or so."
    She thought it over for a moment.  "Divorce him.  I want you
to come and live with us.  Ken will fuck you now and then if you need
cock.  He likes a dose of cunt once in a while.  And you have a nice
tight ass like a boy, he'll use you there too."

    I went home and packed some clothes.  I left Paul a note.
Then I drove over to the hotel where Kim and Ken were staying to begin
living as a slave.  That night, while I licked pussy for the first
time, Ken fucked me in the ass.  Another first.  My life as a nude sex slave
was underway.

The End.

The Theft

    When I was seventeen, I worked as a clerk at a small gift shop
near the center of town.  It was fun because the other clerk was Beth,
my best friend in the whole world and it was our last summer together.
We'd just graduated from high school and it was a bittersweet time -
we were out of high school and soon would be going our separate ways.
Beth to Georgetown and me to the University Of Michigan.

    We'd met on the first day of kindergarten and had been friends
ever since.  We were alike in many ways, but physically we were very
different.  Beth was tall and blonde and stunningly beautiful.  I was
small and dark and almost plain, but I had a good athletic body and
very nice legs.  Unfortunately, with Beth around, nobody noticed.  Not
that it bothered me much because I was as much in love with her as
everyone else.  Beth was our leader in high school - the most
beautiful, most intelligent and most daring of us all.  She was
usually the first to try anything.  She'd been the first to lose her
virginity, at 14, the first to drink, the first to smoke dope.  She
was class valdictorian, editor of the yearbook, voted most likely to
succeed.  She was.....Beth, the most influential member of our class.

    Early one hot summer afternoon, a Thursday, when we both
wished we were anywhere but the store, the owner came in and and told
us to close up because she wanted to talk to us.  We didn't have any
idea of what was going on but we locked the door and put up the closed
sign and then drew the curtain on the door.  The owner of the store,
Kathryn, was waiting for us in the back room.  She was in her late
twenties at the time and divorced.  She had a son but he lived with
his father.  Kathryn was an attractive woman with red hair, green eyes
and freckles, but to us she was one of 'them' - an adult.

    The back room, unlike the rest of the store, wasn't air
conditioned.  Kathryn was sitting behind the small wooden desk she
used when she was working on the books or preparing orders.  Beth and
I slipped into the room and left the door ajar to allow the air to
circulate.  Kathyrn glanced up with a serious look on her face and
said, "Sara, please close the door and lock it.  What I have to say is
private."  I nodded, closed the door and then turned the key in the lock.

    After I closed the door, Beth and I stood side-by-side and
waited for Kathryn to tell us what was wrong.  She stared at us in
silence for a moment before speaking.  "Girls," she began, "What I
have to say is very serious.  Someone has been stealing money for the
past several weeks.  Not a huge amount, but a consistent $50-$60 a
day.  I was going to go straight to the police but I thought I'd talk
to the both of you first and give the guilty party a chance to
confess.  If she does, I'll just dismiss her and not file charges."

    Beth and I glanced at each other in shock.  Neither of us
could believe that the other was a thief!  We both protested our
innocence at length but Kathryn refused to believe us.  She said she
had too much proof and since neither of us was willing to confess she
had no choice but to go to the police.  Beth started to cry.  "Nooooo!
You can't!  It will ruin my chances of getting into law school!"  I
was stunned!  I hadn't thought of that aspect - what would U of M
think if one of their incoming freshman was arrested for theft?  Of
course, I hadn't done it and I found it hard to believe that Beth had,
but we certainly we would both be arrested.

    Beth stood there sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Ms. Hill, isn't there any other way?  Can't we pay you back?  Or you
could punish us yourself?"

    I glanced at Beth, surprised that she'd even suggest such a
thing.  But then I thought that anything might be better than having
your life ruined before it even got started.

    Kathryn looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head.
"No, this is a police matter."  She reached for the phone.

    I was stunned at what happened next.  Beth screamed, "No!
Please, don't!"  And she dropped to her knees and began to beg Kathryn
to reconsider.  I was staring down at Beth in surprise when I heard
Kathryn speak my name.

    "Sara, how about you?  Do you agree to accept whatever punishment I
decide upon?"
    I hesitated, but a glance at Beth's hopeful face decided me.
I nodded and whispered, "Yes, Ms. Hill, I agree."

    Kathryn sat back and stared at us in silence for a moment.
"Okay, this is your punishment.  A strapping on your bare buttocks.
Twenty-five strokes each."

    I was stunned!  "You can't be serious?"  Beth, still on her knees,
glanced up at me in alarm.
    "Yes, I'm serious.  You need to be taught a lesson.  Now make
up your minds.  Start undressing or I call the police.  Strip down to your
bra and panties."

    Beth reached over and took my hand.  "Please....."
    I looked down at her for a long minute and then shrugged.
"Okay.  I'll take the spanking."

    Kathryn got up and walked over to an old filing cabinet and
began to rummage around in the top drawer.  Beth got to her feet and
began to unbutton her blouse.  I glanced away and started to undress.
Kathryn found what she was looking for - a leather strap about 18"
long, 3" wide, and about 1/8" thick.  It had a wood handle that was
carved to fit the hand.  She came back and stood watching as Beth and
I finished stripping.  Unfortunately, I wasn't wearing a bra because I
seldom did in those days - I was/am small on top (34a) and really didn't need
one.

    Beth glanced over and saw me standing there in just my
underpants.  She still had tears in her eyes, but she smiled and then
reached back and unhooked her bra.  She slipped it off and tossed it
on top of her other clothes.  I remember how grateful I felt for the
gesture.  I also remember looking at her perfect, conical breasts and
feeling a brust of envy that I quick surpressed.  Then Kathryn cleared
her throat and said, "Who's first?"

    Beth and I glanced at each other and neither of us said a
word.  Kathryn nodded and said, "Okay, I'll decide.  You first, Beth."

    I saw a look flash across Beth's face that I thought was
surprise, but I assumed it had to be fear.  Beth moved forward very
reluctantly and postioned herself in front of the desk.  Kathryn had
her move forward until she was pressed against the desk.  Then she
told Beth to clasp her hands behind her neck and keep them there.
Beth obeyed, but slowly.  Kathryn turned to me and said, "Go and stand
with your back against the door, hands behind your neck like Beth."  I
hastened to obey.

    I stood with my back to the door and watched as Kathryn
stepped up behind Beth, but off to one side a little, affording me a
perfect view as she pulled Beth's panties down.  She took them all the
way off and tucked them into the front of her jeans.  I stared at
Beth's perfect ass and felt a sudden warmth between my legs.  Beth was
already whimpering when Kathryn told her to bend forward until her
upper body was resting on the desktop.  As she did she was forced to
spread her feet apart to maintain her balance.  Kathryn waited until
Beth was postioned and then she stepped back.  I stared at Beth and
shivered when I saw how exposed she was.  Her pussy and her tight
little anus were totally exposed and I felt another surge of warmth as
I stared at them.  I realized that in just a few minutes I'd be
exposed in the same fashion!

    Then Kathryn raised the strap and brought it down across
Beth's buttocks as hard as she could.  Beth screamed and I saw the red
mark flare across her bottom.  Kathyrn worked steadily, landing blow
after blow across Beth's buttocks and upper thighs.  After a
half-dozen, Beth was sobbing like a baby.  I remember thinking that I
wouldn't blubber like that when it was my turn.  After another
half-dozen, Beth was begging for mercy, her dignity and pride
forgotten.  Kathryn ignored her and continued the steady stream of
blows.  When it was over, Beth lay there sobbing and made no attempt
to stand.  Kathryn stepped closer and I watch in shocked fascination
as her hand slipped between Beth's legs.  Kathyrn slipped two fingers
deep into Beth's pussy and moved them around for a moment before
withdrawing them.  She held her hand up and I saw her fingers
glistening with Beth's cunt juices.  As I watched, Kathyrn calmly
lifted her hand to her mouth and licked her fingers clean.  I was
stunned by my reaction - I got so wet I was afraid it would show
though my panties!  But Kathyrn wasn't finished.  When she finished
cleaning her fingers, she ran her forefinger up the crease between
Beth's buttocks and pressed it lightly against Beth's tight little
anus.  I held my breath, unable to believe what I was seeing.  I was
horrified and terribly excited.  I watched as Kathyrn pressed harder
and pushed her finger into Beth's ass.  She pushed it in as far as it
would go and probed around for a moment or two.  Then she withdrew and
wiped it on a tissue.  She stood there, staring down at Beth for a
moment, then she slapped her on the buttocks, causing Beth to jump and
scream.  "Get up and go over and kneel by the door."

    As Beth began to straighten up, Kathryn turned to me and told
me to move over to the desk.  I started to bring my hands down but she
snapped, "Keep your hands where they are."  I stepped aside as Beth
stumbled toward the door.  As I took my place at the desk I glanced
back and saw Beth on her knees by the door.  She was facing the desk,
hands clasped behind her neck, knees spread wide, ankles crossed.  She
was still crying and tears were dripping onto her chest.  Then I
turned and faced the desk, pressing my hips against it as hard as I could.

    Kathyrn stepped up behind me and I felt her hook a finger into
the waistband of my panties.  I took a deep breath as she tugged them
down over my hips and let them drop around my ankles.  I stepped out
of them without being asked.  "Bend over the desk.  You saw how Beth
was postitioned."  Kathryn's tone was brisk.  I spread my feet apart a
comfortable distance apart and bent forward until my upper body was
resting on the desktop.  I turned my face to the left and stared at a
spot on the wall while I waited to be whipped.

    I started when I felt Kathryn's hand touch the small of my
back.  She pressed her hand down to hold me while she stroked my
buttocks with her other hand.  I bit my lip and remained silent as she
probed between my legs.  I wanted to stop her, but I told myself
anything that delayed the whipping I was going to get could be
endured.  She spread me slightly and I blushed as she ran the tip of
one finger up the crease between my buttocks.  She teased my anus for
a moment before sliding her hand lower to cup my sex, leaving her
thumb resting on my anus.  I whimpered and whispered, "No, please don't....."

    Kathryn chuckled as she discovered that I was very wet.  Her
fingers slipped easily into my cunt.  At the same time, she increased
the pressure on my anus and I moaned as her thumb forced it's way into
my ass.  She gripped me tightly and lifted.  She actually lifted my
feet clear of the floor using what I later heard called 'the bowling
ball grip' - which is putting three fingers into the woman's cunt and
your thumb into her anus.  She held me like that for a moment.
"You're so wet!  You must have loved watching me whip Beth.  Or was it
your view of her ass and cunt that turned you on?"  I whimpered but
didn't reply.  She shook me and said, "Answer me or you get another
five strokes added."

    I took a deep breath and whispered, "Both.  Both turned me on."
    Kathryn shook me again.  "Answer fully and speak up.  Beth
wants to know too.  Get it right or I add ten strokes!"

    I thought about it for a moment before answering again.  "I
enjoyed seeing her exposed and it turned me on to hear her beg while you
whipped her."

    "How do you feel about that?"  As she spoke, Kathryn moved her thumb
around in my ass.
    "Ashamed.  I feel ashamed that I enjoyed Beth's humiliation."
And it was the truth.  I did feel ashamed.  Very ashamed.  And very excited.

    Kathryn suddenly withdrew her hand and told me it was time for
my punishment.  I bit my lip and silently vowed that I wouldn't beg,
wouldn't make a spectacle of myself the way Beth had done.  I heard
Kathryn's step back and then I heard a swishing sound.  WHAAAACCCKKK!
The strap landed across my buttocks and I was stunned by the pain.  It
felt as if I'd been branded with a hot iron!  I felt tears welling up
and wondered how I was going to get through 24 more strokes.  It was
the worst pain I'd ever felt!

    WHAAACCCKKK!  Number two caused me to arch my torso and I
actually lifted my breasts clear of the desk.  I bit my lip hard to
help me remain silent.  WHAAACCCKKK!  WHAAACCCKKK!  WHAAACCCK!  The
next three strokes came in quick succession and my thoughts dissolved
in a blur of pain.  I was like a wounded animal - all I could think
about was the pain.  I was sobbing aloud by then.  The next five
destroyed all sense of pride and dignity, I started to scream.  I
screamed and screamed as the blows continued, but I didn't move.  Some
part of my mind still functioned and kept me from moving, from causing
her to start the count over.

    I was counting and I sobbed with relief as #25 landed across
my upper thighs.  I started to straighten up but Kathryn's voice froze
me in place.  "Don't move thief, you still have another 10 strokes coming to
you."

    That broke me.  I began to beg.  "Please, Ms. Hill, no more.
Please!  I'll do anything!  Please!  Oh God, please don't whip me
anymore!  Please!  Please!  I'll do anything you say!"

    Kathryn placed her hand on the small of my back again.  "Do you admit
that you're the thief?"
    "No!  I'm not!  I'm telling you the truth!"  I heard the whine in my
voice and hated it.

    "I'm going to whip you until you admit that you're a dirty
little thief."  Kathryn's voice was cold and hard.  Her hand
disappeared from my back and I tensed up.  WHAAACCCKKKKK!  I screamed.
"Pleaaaaaasssseee!  Noooooo!"   WHAAACCCCKKK!  I lost it completely
and blushed in shame as I emptied my bladder.  I felt the urine splash
against the desk and run down my legs.

    Kathryn laughed and I heard he say, "Look, Beth, your friend's
wet herself!  Now, thief, down on your knees and beg for mercy or I'll
whip you until you can't stand up."

    I straightened up and turned toward Kathryn.  Then I dropped
to my knees, right in the puddle of urine, and began to beg for mercy.
Kathryn listened for a few moments and then held her hand up for
silence.  "I'll stop the whipping now but you have to sign a paper
stating that you agreed to be punished to avoid police action."

    I nodded eagerly.  "Yes, I'll sign it."
    She stared down at me and said, "Get down on your belly bitch
and lick the tips of my shoes while you beg me to let you eat Beth's cunt."

    I stared up at her for a long moment, unable to believe my
ears.  She raised the strap and gave me a backhanded stroke across my
breasts.  I screamed and threw myself down on my belly.  I licked the
tips of her shoes and said, "Please, let me eat Beth's cunt!  Please!"

    While I groveled, Kathryn said, "Beth, get your thieving ass
over her and join your friend."  Beth was on her belly beside me a
moment later and we each licked the tip of one shoe.  Kathryn
chuckled.  "That's what I like, two obedient little slave bitches!"

    After enjoying our humiliation for a few minutes, Kathryn told
us to get going and start eating each other.  "Beth, get on your back.
Sara, turn around and straddle her."  We moved into the classic
sixty-nine and I lowered myself over Beth's face.  I moaned as I felt
her tongue run along the furrow between my labia.  Kathryn nudged my
butt with her foot and said, "Get your face down in Beth's cunt."  I
lowered myself slowly and quickly smelled the musky scent of an
aroused female.  It was scary and exciting.  I pressed my mouth
against Beth's plump mound and inhaled deeply.  This was followed by a
first, tentative lick.  I tasted cunt for the first time and found
that it was very enjoyable.  I began to lick with more enthusiasm and
Kathryn chuckled.

    A few minutes passed and I was starting to grind myself
against Beth's mouth.  Then I felt Kathryn stroke my buttocks.  I
paused and glanced at her and saw that she was nude.  Her body was
pale and freckled, but very lovely.  Nice breasts tipped with puffy
pink nipples that hardened as I watched.  I moaned as she played with
spread my buttocks and ran her tongue over my anus.  Then I stopped
thinking and lost myself in the sex.  It went on for at least two
hours, in all possible combinations.  I had my asshole licked and
probed while I moaned in pleasure.  I ate both of them several times,
enjoying it more each time, especially eating Kathryn because she was
shaved.  I loved playing with and Beth's beautiful tits.  I went wild
when Kathryn masturbated me while I was eating Beth for the second or
third time.  She got four fingers into me and told me she'd fist me
someday if I asked nicely, but said I was just too tight to do it then.

    Later, when we were all sweaty and exhausted, Kathryn leaned
against the desk with Beth and I on our knees in front of her.
"Listen, bitches, this is how it's going to be for the rest of the
summer.  You will continue to work here at the same salary.  I'll
forget the money that was stolen.  But both of you will be my slaves
until you leave for college.  Any objections?"

    Beth and I glanced at each other for a moment and then back up
at Kathryn.  "No, ma'am," we chorused in unison.

    Kathryn smiled.  I'll have a uniform for you both to wear.  A
cropped T-shirt and a short denim skirt.  And I mean short!  You'll
wear nothing else - no underwear, stockings, or shoes.  Do you
understand me, sluts?"

    We chorused, "Yes, ma'am."
    She told us to get dressed and go home and be back the next
morning promptly at 9:30 a.m. to try on our new uniforms.  She wanted
us ready when the store opened at 10 a.m.  She wrote down our sizes
and measured us from waist-to-knee before allowing us to dress.  Beth
and I didn't talk much as we walked to her car.  I think we were both
a little embarassed and uncertain about what had happened.  Neither of
us had any underwear on and we were both still sore from the whipping
we'd received.  Beth drove me home and I saw that my parents had
alreadly left to spend a long weekend at our cottage on Cape Cod.

    Beth pulled into the driveway and I asked her if she wanted to
come in for a while.  She hesitated, then nodded.  "Sure, no sense in
rushing home.  My folks are gone until a week from Saturday."

    We went inside and as soon as the door was closed and locked,
Beth put her arm around me and drew me close.  I turned my face up and
sighed as she kissed me.  "Take you clothes off," she whispered.  "I want you
nude."

    I stepped back.  "You too?  Am I your slave too?"
    Beth hesitated for a moment and then nodded and stepped
forward, slapping me lightly across my face.  "Yes, you're my slave
when we're not with Kathryn."

    I stripped and got down on my knees and watched as Beth
undressed.  When she was finished, I got down on my belly and licked
her bare feet in submission.  She walked out to the kitchen to pour
herself a Diet Coke, making me follow on my hands and knees.  I was
totally aroused, dripping wet, by the time we got there.  Beth looked
down at me as she sipped her coke.  "You're such a slut!"

    I flared up at her.  "Don't forget, you'll be on your knees
tomorrow too!  You're one of Kathryn's 'bitches' and don't you forget it!"

    She grinned.  "True, so I'd better enjoy myself tonight.  I'm
going to sleep over.  Now lick my cunt.  I want a couple of nice cums
in the next ten minutes or I'll whip your tight little ass!"  I got
busy and brought her to orgasm twice, just beating the deadline.

    The next day, we showered together and had sex while we were
in there.  Then we got dressed and drove to the gift shop.  We dressed
minimally - shorts, T-shirts, and running shoes, because we knew we'd
be stripping down as soon as we arrived in the shop.

    Kathryn was waiting for us.  As soon as we were inside she
made us strip.  She had us stand with our hands behind our necks while
she inspected us.  Then we tried on the new outfits she'd bought.  The
tops fit nicely and ended a couple of inches below our breasts.  The
skirts also fit and were VERY short, barely covering our bottoms when
we were standing straight.  We'd have to be very careful about bending
down while wearing them, especially since we'd be completely bare
underneath.  Kathryn was pleased with the effect but said she'd see
about having us wear white thigh highs and sandals for variety.

    That first day was very exciting, as was the rest of the
summer.  I realized, early on, that the whole scene was much too
attractive to me and I vowed to distance myself once I went away to
college.  But, for the rest of that summer I immersed myself in the
whole scene.  That first day was special though.  I remember leaning
on the counter, chatting casually with Beth who was sitting on a chair
behind me and a little to my left.  What couldn't be seen from the
other side of the counter was Beth's hand which was up under my skirt.
I had a hard time looking calm when Beth was masturbating me.  And
bringing me to orgasm!

    At one point, I had to go into the back to use the bathroom.
Kathyrn was there at the desk, working on some orders.  I slipped my
top and skirt off as soon as the door closed behind me - one of
Kathryn's new rules.  She glanced up and smiled as I walked back to
the bathroom.  I heard her chair scrape and glanced over my shoulder.
She was following me.  She told me to leave the door open.  Then she
said, "Forget the toilet.  Move that plasic bucket into the center of
the room and squat over it."

    When I was squatting over the bucket, knees spread wide, hands
clasped behind my neck, Kathryn told me to look up at her.  I did.  It
was so erotic to stare into her eyes while I urinated into the bucket.
When I was finished I poured the contents of the bucket into the
toilet.  Kathryn told me to use the bucket from then on.  I glanced at
her.  "Even when...."

    She smiled.  "Especially then."
    I dried myself and washed my hands, all the time thinking
about how it would be to squat and defecate into the bucket with
Kathryn watching.  Would she watch me wipe myself afterward?  I was
sure she would and realized that privacy was a thing of the past for
me.  At least until the summer was over.

    Another change from the old days was punishment.  Beth and I
were routinely punished for any mistake, no matter how minor.  At
least once a day we'd be bent over the desk for a spanking.  And each
spanking was followed by sex - great sex, exciting sex.  The kind of
sex that I soon came to crave.  Of course, I soon came to crave the
spankings too.  Kathryn conditioned us to nicely.  And she found other
ways to punish us.  Ways that worked while we were on duty - clips on
our nipples or on our labia.  Butt plugs.  A little device that was
held in place with straps - it was positioned over the wearer's pubic
mound and delivered a little jab with a sharp needle when a remote was
activated.

    At the end of August it was time to leave for college.
Kathryn, Beth, and I had one last orgy of sex and punishment the
weekend before I left for college.  Beth and I were whipped into
screaming submission and then Kathryn raped us with a huge dildo.
Afterward, as we knelt before her for the last time, she gave us each
a gold slave bracelet set with a one carat diamond!  The inside was
engraved, "Kathryn's Forever" and  Beth and I both cried as we put
them on.
  *************************
    Well, that was ten years ago.  I went off to the University of
Michigan and got a degree in Art History.  Then I went on to graduate
school for an MFA and finally a Ph.d in Art History.  I recently got
the job of my dreams with a museum in New England and came home again
for the first time in about five years, since my parent's funeral as a
matter of fact.  They were killed in an automobile accident.

    Our tenth high school reunion was last month and I decided to
go after rejecting the idea at first.  I've been married and divorced,
have a daughter who's almost three years old, and I'm fairly happy.
We have a nice apartment in a small suburban town with a good school
system.  It's a twenty minute ride from my old home town but I've
avoided the trip because I didn't want to dredge up old memories again.

    I went to the reunion after arranging to leave Beth (yes, I
named her after my friend) with my cousin.  I wore a conservative gray
dress with white stockings and black high-heeled pumps.  I arrived
early and got a seat at a table near the back of the room where I
could see everyone that came in.

    I was working on my second glass of white wine, chatting with
a guy I remembered only vaguely, when Beth arrived.  I recognized her
instantly despite the fact that her hair had been cropped very short.
She was still the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.  She was wearing
a short slip dress in black silk with black stockings and black heels.
She was nicely tanned despite the fact that it was early October.  I
excused myself and headed toward the bar.  Beth was ordering a drink
when I stepped up next to her and said, "Hi."

    She glanced at me and smiled.  Her glanced dropped to my wrist
and she saw that I was wearing my bracelet.  I already had seen hers.
"Hi, long time..."

    I nodded, "Yes, a very long time.  Did you come alone?"
    She smiled and nodded.  "You?"
    "Yes, I'm divorced and not dating.  How about you?"
    "Still single.  Never married.  Not dating.  Never have, really."
    I raised an eyebrow at that.  "Why not?  Did you go to law
school?  What are you doing for a living?"

    She took a sip of her drink before answering.  "Because I'm
still with Kathryn.  Yes, I went to law school and I'm in practice now
in partnership with another lawyer, a man named Johnson."

    It was my turn to delay by sipping my drink.  I was astonished
that she was still with Kathryn!  "Are you still...."  My voice
trailed off.  How do you ask someone if she's still a slave?

    She grinned.  "Come with me for a moment."  She picked up her
drink and walked across the bar and out into the hall.  I followed and
she led the way to the ladies lounge on the next floor.  Inside, she
checked to see if there was anyone else there.  Then she set her drink
down and bent to catch hold of the hem of her dress.  She straightened
up and lifted the dress over her head in one smooth motion.  She had
nothing on underneath, her stockings were thigh highs.  Her body was
smoothly tanned all over, including her smoothly shaven pubic mound.
Her nipples and labia were pierced and fitted with sterling silver
rings.  The base of her clit was pierced by a tiny silver stud.
Another silver ring pierced her navel.  There was a small tattoo of a
broken heart at the top of her slit - where it would be hidden if her
pubic hair was allowed to grow.  I stared at her for what seemed like
an hour but was probably only a minute or two.  Her body was even more
beautiful than when we were in high school - all the baby fat had
burned off and she was tight and trim.  Her pert pear-shaped breasts
were still high and firm, with no trace of sag.

    I licked my lips and whispered, "My god!  You're even more beautiful than
I remember!"
    She grinned and took my hand, leading me into the handicapped
stall.  She locked the door and said, "Your turn.....slave."

    I stripped down to my garterbelt, stockings, and shoes.  Then
I leaned against the door and spread my legs while she masturbated me
to orgasm.  Afterward, she kissed me and said, "Come back with me to
Kathryn's.  Join us again."

    "I have a daughter.  And a new job."
    "That's fine.  Your daughter will be welcome.  She'll never
know her mother is a slave.  And you can keep your job."

    I looked her right in the eye and said, "There's one thing I
need to know.  There never was a theft, was there?"

    Beth hesistated for a moment.  "No, we set that up because we both wanted
you."
    I laughed.  "You both wanted me?  I'm small and dark and
plain.  You're both beautiful.  Why'd you want me?"

    Beth shook her head.  "You're kidding, aren't you?  You have
the most perfect body and the best legs either of us have ever seen!"

    I shook my head.  "You're not serious, are you?  I'm practically flat on
top!"
    Beth grinned.  "Big tits aren't everything.  You have a
fantastic body, a great little ass, and superb thighs!  And the
tighest, tastiest little cunt!  We were both so hot for you that we
cooked up that whole theft story just to get you."

    I stared at her in silence for a moment.  Then I shook my head
and grinned.  "I should hire you to sue yourself and Kathyrn!"

    She grinned back at me.  "On your knees, slave."
    "Don't you want me nude first?"
    She nodded.  "Yes," she said in a hoarse whisper.  "Always!"

    I stepped out of my shoes and removed my stockings and
garterbelt.  Then I dropped to my knees on the cold, hard tile and had
my first taste of pussy in ten years!  It was fantastic!  After Beth's
orgasm, we slipped our dresses on and left.  Within 30 minutes I was
on my belly, nude, licking Kathryn's feet in submission.  I was a
slave again.  I was home.  That night I screamed my guts out as I hung
by the ankles and received my first whipping since that August weekend ten
years ago.

    The End.

Turnabout (Jym)

Revenge.
F/f, spanking, B/d, humiliation.  A story in which certain students
turn the tables on their high school Dean.

   The pretty teenager grunted in pain as the strap connected with her
tight buttocks.  She was bent over a desk in the Dean's office and was
taking her punishment for getting caught smoking on school grounds.
Kari Cahill, the dean, was wielding the strap with her usual heavy
hand.  After the punishment was over, five hard strokes, the weeping
girl pulled her jeans up and left the office.

   Kari watched her go and sighed.  "God, how I love this job," she
whispered.  Being fortunate enough to work in a town where corporal
punishment was not only allowed but encouraged was more than she had
ever dreamed of while she was in college.  Kari was thirty-one years
old that fall and looking forward to her second year as Dean at
Westmont's prestigious Walker High School, a girls-only institution -
one of the few left in the country.  Walker's enrollement was just
over 800 and the waiting list was almost half that.  95% of Walker
grads went straight to college and most of the rest went on to prep
schools.  90% of Walker grads finished college in four years, an
unheard of figure.

   Kari returned to her paperwork after the girl departed but she
found it hard to concentrate and decided to take a walk around the
halls.  Despite her role as chief disciplinarion, she was a popular
figure at Walker with students as well as faculty.  She worked out
every day and still had the lithe athletic figure she'd had when she
was a top college volleyball player.  She had missed making the '92
Olympic team only because she'd broken her ankle when her bicycle had
skidded on a patch of sand.  Of course, she'd been racing her brother
and it was all her own fault, but she still regretted missing the
Olympics.

   At 31, Kari stood 5'11" and weighed 133 pounds.  She still wore her
red hair long and ususally put it into her trademark French braid that
reached the middle of her back.  She was plagued with freckles but
everyone who knew her agreed that she was still exceptionally
attractive - despite (or because of) the freckles.  She surveyed the
world through big green eyes, intelligent watchful eyes.  Her mouth
was a trifle wide (she thought) but always smiling.  Her best feature
was a subject of hot debate in some quarters - some favored her long
sleek legs, others her tightly rounded bottom, still others were taken
by her high firm breasts (Kari thought them somewhat small) but all
agreed that she was an exceptionally attractive woman.

   Kari had just celebrated her fifth anniversary at Walker and was
the youngest Dean in school history.  It was after being promoted,
just a year earlier, that Kari discovered she enjoyed inflicting pain
on young women.  She was nervous the first time she was required to
discipline a student and was stunned when she discovered how much it
turned her on, the whole scene was arousing - the girl's whimpers, the
snap of the belt, the crack as it connected, the tight young butt
encased in white cotton, the slim firm thighs.  After the first time
Kari was racked by guilt.  She was sure that there was something
wicked about her that caused her to enjoy punishing the girls - and
maybe there was - but she realized that she was essentially a good
person, she just had this one kink, one that she couldn't share with
her husband Don.

   As Kari strolled around the school she encountered several of her
favorite girls - one's who'd bent over her desk and provided her with
some memorable moments.  There was Alexis, the senior basketball star
who'd been caught in the equipment room with a freshman girl.
Unfortunately for them the coach had walked in and caught Alexis on
her knees with her tongue deep in the younger girl's pussy.  Jenny,
that was her name.

   The two of them had been given 20 each.  For so blatant an offense
Alexis had to take the strokes on her bare bottom.  With Jenny
watching, waiting her turn.  Kari had been six months in the job by
then and confident.  She'd locked the door to her office after telling
the secretary that she wasn't to be disturbed.  Then she'd stood with
her back to the door and surveyed the two for a moment before
snapping, "Strip, both of you.  Naked.  Now.  Or you get 25 instead of
20."

   Kari had watched as the two quickly undressed.  Alexis was a big,
strong girl with a fine body.  Jenny was small and slim with a boyish
figure, but she was very pretty.  And her ass was so cute....

   When the finished undressing, Alexis bent over Kari's desk
confident that she would take her punishment without showing any sign
of pain.  How wrong she was!  Kari had recognized the challenge in the
girl's eyes and laid the strap on heavily.  By the fourth stroke
Alexis was whimpering in pain, biting her lip to keep from sobbing
like a baby.  By the seventh she was sobbing.  Then, on the ninth she
started to scream and beg for mercy.  Kari continued, confident that
the thick walls were containing the girl's anguished cries.  After it
was over, she had Alexis kneel to one side to watch Jenny take her
punishment.  They were both astonished when the slender freshman took
all twenty strokes, every one as hard as those Alexis had endured,
without making a sound!  Tears were streaming down her face at the
end, but she never made a sound.

   Then there was Sue, a junior, who was a frequent visitor to Kari's
office.  Her high spirits were always getting the pretty blonde into
trouble.  Scarcely a week went by when she wasn't bent over Kari's
desk for five strokes - the lightest punishment routinely handed out
for minor offenses.  Sue's ass was flawless and glowed a pretty pink
after five good strokes.

   Another frequent visitor was Jennifer, the junior tomboy and star
shortstop on the softball team.  Slim, dark haired Jennifer with the
amazingly pretty breasts and slim, beautiful legs.  She'd gotten into
a fight with another girl and had been given the maximum - 25 strokes
while bent nude over Kari's desk.  Jennifer had surprised Kari.  The
beauty of her pert little tits, with their sharp pointy pink nipples
was the first surprise, the second was her shaven pubic mound and
prominent labia.  She had taken ten without making a sound and then
had started to cry.  Afterward, as she stood rubbing her stinging
butt, tears streaming down her face, Kari had been strongly tempted to
comfort her.  Luckily she had resisted the impulse.

   That afternoon, just before school let out, Kari called her husband
and told him that she'd be working late that night.  Very late.  She
had a report due to the school board on the following Monday as was
way behind.  Unfortunately (or fortunately, it depends on your point
of view), she was overhead by Jennifer.  Jennifer quickly rounded up
Alexis, Jenny, and Sue and told them what she'd just heard.  It was
the chance they'd been waiting for.  After school was out, each called
home and told her parents that she was going to be working late at
school and would have dinner with a friend afterword and probably
spend the night.  Each parent accepted the news without question.

   The girls hid out in the equipment room in the gym until 7:00 p.m.
Then, dressed identically in black sweats, with ski masks, they walked
through the darkened halls to the administration offices.  Kari was
working on her computer, totally absorbed in her task, and didn't hear
her office door open.  The girls slipped in and closed the door behind
them.  Then one of them stamped her foot to get Kari's attention.  Her
reaction surprised them.  She turned and faced them, seemingly without
surprise, and asked calmly, "Who are you and why are you here?"

   Sue, who'd been chosen to speak for them replied, "Never mind who
we are.  We're here to give you a taste of your own medicine.  We
think you've become too fond of the strap and lay it on too heavy."

   Kari stared at them in silence for a moment.  "And what gives you
the right to judge?  Or to punish me?"  She seemed calm, but inwardly
she was trembling.  It was going to happen, she knew it!

   "We've all been judged and punished by you.  That gives us the
right."  As Sue spoke the other three nodded agreement.

   Kari stood up.  "Very well.  What do you want me to do?"

   Now it was the girls turn to be surprised.  They'd expected anger,
denial, and a struggle.  This calm acceptance was a shock.  They
glanced at each other and then Jenny, the freshman, spoke up and took
control.  "Come around your desk and undress."

   Kari nodded and walked around to stand in front of her desk.  The
girls watched intently as she quickly removed her clothes.  When she
was finished she stood calmly, hands at her sides, and waited.  Jenny,
continuing in control, spoke again.  "Hold out your hands, wrists
crossed."  When Kari complied, Jenny stepped forward and quickly tied
Kari's hands with a silk scarf.  As she was tying the last knot, Kari
smiled and said, "Jenny, aren't you hot in that ski mask?  Take it
off."

   Jenny glanced up, surprised, then calmly removed the ski mask
before turning to Alexis to get the rope they'd brought with them.
She slipped one end under the scarf and tied it tightly.  Alexis
climbed up on Kari's desk and slipped the other end through an old
eyebolt set in the ceiling.  Then she hopped down and the girls pulled
on the rope until Kari's arms were stretched over her head and she was
drawn up on the tips of her toes.  The tied the rope around one of the
front legs of the desk and paused to admire their handywork.

   Kari stared at the far wall, her lithe body stretched taut.  The
girls admired her firm, pert breasts and flat belly, her long sleek
legs and tightly rounded buttocks.  They were amused to see that she
was freshly shaved and commented on her exposed sex, causing her to
blush.  Finally, Jenny stepped up and informed Kari that she would
take 5 strokes across her ass from each of them, with the same strap
she'd used on them.

   Alexis was first, but she hesitated and then said she thought
Kari's feet should be clear of the floor, explaining that it would be
better if Kari was totally helpless and unable to brace herself at
all, even with the slight purchase her toes gave her.  The girls
debated for a few moments and then untied the rope and pulled until
Kari was suspended with her toes several inches off the floor.  Her
only response was a grunt as she was hoisted clear.

   Alexis stepped up and measured the distance carefully.  Then her
arm went back and swept forward, the belt cracked across Kari's ass
with a loud 'thawckkkk'.  She threw her head back and gasped at the
sudden pain.  She stared at the far wall, biting her lip, as Alexis
delivered the rest of her strokes.  Kari's ass was a nice blushing
pink when she was finished.  Jennifer was second and laid them on with
a vengance.  Kari started to whimper after Jennifer's second stroke.
Tears rolled down her cheeks after the third.

   Sue also laid her's on hard and had the satisfaction of drawing the
first scream with her second stroke.  Kari continued to scream as Sue
laid on the rest of her strokes.  After she was done she handed the
strap over to Jenny.  Instead of laying right in, Jenny stepped up and
asked Kari if she could take any more - gently rubbing Kari's flat
belly as she spoke.  Kari took a deep breath and glanced at the young
girl - she was surprised to see that Jenny was obviously sincerely
concerned about Kari's ability to endure more punishment.

   "Yes, I can take it," she whispered.  "But please make it quick."
As Kari was speaking, Jenny's hand slipped down from her belly and the
tips of her fingers grazed Kari's mound.  Kari closed her eyes and
whispered, "Oh God."  Jenny was shocked when she discovered that Kari
was wet, very wet.  She didn't say anything to the others who were all
standing behind Kari.  "Hurry up," Alexis urged.  "We have to get out
of here."

   Jenny nodded.  "Okay, don't get upset.  I was just checking her."
She stepped back and laid her five strokes on hard, drawing fresh
screams.  When she was done she turned to the others and told them to
go if they wished - she'd untie Kari and let her down.  "And she knows
me, but not you guys, so go ahead and get out of here."

   The others hesitated for a moment and then left.  Jenny untied the
rope and eased Kari down until her feet touched the floor.  She untied
the rope and coiled it, but left Kari's wrists secured by the silk
scarf.  When she stepped up and cupped Kari's pert breasts the older
woman's eyes widened and she whispered, "Oh, no, please!"

   Jenny smiled.  "You want it, don't you?  Getting whipped really
turned you on!  Admit it!"  Kari shook her head and whispered, "No,
you're wrong!"

   Jenny's hand darted down between Kari's legs.  "You're still
sopping."  She held up her wet fingers and Kari blushed.  "Admit it,
you want it."

   Kari dropped her eyes and whispered, "Yes, you're right.  I want
it.  I deserved being punished and it really turned me on."

   Jenny grinned.  "Clean my fingers."  Kari lifted her face and
licked the girl's fingers eagerly.  As she was finishing up, Jenny
smiled and said, "A slave should be on her knees."

   Kari stared at her in silence for a moment.  Then she dropped to
her knees in front of her new mistress.  Kari, the Dean was now Kari,
the slave.

Undercover Cop (female) Rape, torture. by JYM

   When she volunteered for the assigment she'd never envisioned it
ending like this, in the cold basement of an empty warehouse.  Someone
had given her up, betrayed her, but she had racked her brain without
coming up with a single name.  Who'd benefit from having her removed?
Who?  The question haunted her.  She wasn't popular with the other
members of the squad - she was too pushy, too abrasive, too good a
cop.  And she wasn't pretty enough to have them overlook her other
traits.

   Now, with a brief respite from the torture she'd endured, she
thought back to the beginning.  The captain had summoned her into his
office and told her that they needed a female undercover officer to
penetrate a drug operation at the university.  One of her assets was
that even though she was an experienced officer with six years on the
force, she could still pass for a college girl.  She knew that it was
her red hair, freckles, and big green eyes that made her look years
younger than her actual age of 28.  That and her lean, rangy physique
which looked frail when she dressed in baggy sweatshirts and
loose-fitting jeans.

   She closed her eyes and muttered, "Shit, how could I have been so
stupid?"  She was still smarting at the ease with which they'd taken
her right off the street.  And in broad daylight!  A van had pulled up
to the curb a few feet in front of her just as a young male voice
called to her from behind.  "Hey, miss, you dropped your wallet.  Hey!
Red...."  She turned, slapping her jacket pocket at the same time,
realizing that her wallet was indeed missing.  The van door had slid
open, two men jumped out.  One sapped her expertly behind the ear and
the other caught her as she sagged.  Two steps and she was heaved into
the van.  Nobody paid the slightest attention.

   She'd regained consiousness within minutes and discovered that her
wrists were bound tightly behind her back with electrical wire.  Her
ankles were bound too.  And she had been gagged with duct tape.  She
was helpless but she tried anyway and heard her captors chuckle as
they watched her struggles.  After her futile attempt to free herself
she relaxed and tried to figure out where they were going.  Again, a
futile effort.  After many turns, many starts and stops, the van
pulled into an enclosed parking area and stopped.  Her captors had
picked her up and carried her from the van to a flight of stairs that
led down into the basement of the empty warehouse.  She had been
dumped on the floor in the middle of a large room - about 20x25' - and
her captors had turned and left, locking the door behind them.  They
left the lights on or she would have been in total darkness because
there were no windows in the room.  No source of light other than the
six bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

   The room was cold.  It was February after all and apparently the
owner of the building wasn't going to waste money on heat without a
paying tenant.  She was left alone for what seemed like hours but
probably wasn't more that 30-45 minutes.  Then the door opened and she
craned her neck to see who it was.  Three men and a woman entered the
room and closed the door behind them.  She heard the lock click, so
there was at least one more person outside the room.  The three men
were older - in their late 40s and early 50s, typical middle echelon
thugs - hard men who'd done it all and survived.  The woman was
different - she was in her 30s, blonde and attractive, but not the
flashy type men like this usually had hanging around them.  But then
they wouldn't bring one of them into a situation like this.  One of
the older men, clearly the man in charge, jerked his head at her and
said, "Get her ready and be quick about it."

   The other two men hurried over and each took one of her arms,
dragging her to her feet, ignoring her grunt of pain.  Meanwhile, the
woman set the big leather briefcase she was carrying down on the floor
and opened it.  She produced some short leather straps with sturdy
buckles and tossed them toward her.  One of the men holding her arms
picked one up.  "Why are we using these?  What's wrong with just tying
the rope to her wrists and ankles?"

   The woman glanced at the boss and then answered.  "Because we don't
want to mark her now.  Just in case."

   The men seemed to accept that.  One of them punched her in the
belly to ensure she wouldn't struggle.  Then they removed the
electrical cord and quickly attached the straps to her wrists and
ankles.  In the meantime the woman had produced some lengths of chain
- 2 fairly long and 2 shorter lengths.  The boss walked over to the
door and banged on it.  When it opened he leaned through and spoke to
the person outside.  A minute later another men entered with a ladder.
It all happened quickly after that.  Two of the long chains were
attached to her wrist straps.  One of the men had seized her around
the waist and held her in the air while the other got up on the ladder
and secured first one and then the second chair to hooks set in the
rafters.  When the second was secure the man holding her let go and
she grunted with pain as she dropped a few inches and then was left
hanging by her wrists, her feet several inches above the concrete
floor.  Then the shorter chains were attached to the straps around her
ankles and her feet were pulled apart and the chains secured to
ringbolts set in the floor.

  So far she hadn't spoken a word.  She knew it wouldn't do any good.
She stared at them in silence.  The three men gathered near the door
and watched as the blonde woman approached the helpless redhead.  They
all had expectant looks on their faces and she felt the first traces
of fear.  The blonde reached into the pocket of her leather jacket and
produced a switchblade knife which she used to cut carefully cut off
every stitch of the redhead's clothing.  Her jacket first.  Then her
denim workshirt followed by her jeans.  She stepped back for a moment
to let the men have a good look at the redhead in her plain cotton
underwear.  Next, to tease the watchers, she removed the redhead's
cheap sneakers.  Finally, she cut off the redheads bra and panties,
leaving her hanging there with nothing on but her white sweat socks.

   "Well, she's a real redhead!"  This from one of the goons by the
door.  The blonde glanced at her, shrugged and raised an eyebrow as if
to say, "What can you do?  Good help is impossible to find."

   The boss snapped rapped on the door and snapped his fingers when it
opened.  "Come on, lets go."  The two goons filed out, followed by the
blonde.  The door closed and the boss walked over and stared at her
for a minute.  "We're going to leave you to think for a while.  If you
tell us what we want to know it will be better for you."  Then he
turned and left.

   "....better for you."  The words echoed in her head.  She knew what
they meant.  Talk and we'll make it quick.  Two bullets in the back of
the head.  Maybe they'd rape her first but there wouldn't be any
torture.  No reason for it.  If she talked.  But she wanted to live.
So she couldn't talk.  She could only hope that someone had seen
something.  That a miracle would happen and the squad would find her
and....

And pigs would fly.  There was about the same chance for either event.
She shivered and not just from the cold air on her nude body.

UnderCover Cop - II

    Her shoulders were beginning to ache when the door opened and the
boss came in, closely followed by the slender blonde.  He was smoking
an unfiltered cigarette and she had the insane impulse to ask him if
he knew what he was risking.  He circled around her and came to a stop
facing her.  He stared at her for a moment and asked if she was ready
to talk.  To tell them the name of the informant who'd alerted them to
the drug operation in the first place.  She shook her head.  So far
she had not spoken a word.  "What's your name?"  Her only response was
another shake of her head.  He sighed and reached out to run the tip
of his finger over her right nipple.  "It's too bad.  Such a beautiful
girl.  Such a lovely body."

   "Well," she thought to herself, "He's no judge of beauty."  But she
had to concede he was right about her body.  She'd always been proud
of it and worked hard to keep it in shape.  Now.....

   He took a long drag on his cigarette and she watched in horror as
he reached out and pushed it into her navel.  She arched her back and
screamed in agony as he ground the cigarette out on her soft flesh.
He watched impassively, his eyes devoid of emotion.  This was
business.  Just business.  "Ready to talk now?"

   She stifled a sob and shook her head.  He sighed and turned to the
blonde.  "It's up to you.  How long do you need?"

   The blonde shrugged.  "I don't know.  Normally I'd say I could
break a woman in 30 minutes.  But this little bitch seems tough.
Maybe an hour.  Maybe two.  It would be quicked if I didn't have to
worry about visibile damage."  The redhead shuddered as she listened
to them talk about torturing her in the same tones they'd use talking
about the weather.  The boss shook his head.  "Those are the
instructions for now.  Do the best you can.  I'll let you know if the
situation changes."  He turned and left.

   When the door closed behind him the blonde turned and said, "Just
you and me now, honey.  You can call me Cindy."  She walked over to
her briefcase and brought it back, setting in down behind the redhead.
Then she walked over to the door and rapped on it.  When it was opened
she spoke to the person outside and then waited at the door until a
wooden box was brought in.  She placed in on the floor in front of the
redhead and climbed up onto it.  It got her high enough to allow her
to look the redhead right in the eye.  Satisified with the added
height the box afforded her she began by examining the redhead's body.
She did this by running her hands over the girl's body, stroking,
probing, poking, and watching carefully any reaction from her victim.
There wasn't any that she could detect.  The girl just hung there,
staring at the far wall, her face a blank mask.  There wasn't even a
reaction when she spread the girl's labia and probed her cunt.  Nor
when she spread her buttocks and thrust a finger deep into the
redhead's ass.

   What Cindy didn't know, and wouldn'd (couldn't) have believed, was
that the redhead, whose name was Samantha, didn't know the identify of
the informant so she couldn't tell them if she wanted to.  Sam knew
that if she told them she didn't know they wouldn't believe her and
would torture her until they were convinced she was telling the truth.
And if they did believe her they'd just kill her immediately.  It was
better, far better, not to speak a word and hope that someone rescued
her.

   Cindy concluded her examination and looked up at the slender
redhead.  She decided to show the girl that she was capable of
inflicting pain and didn't mind doing so.  In fact, she enjoyed it.  A
lot.  She decided to start off slow.  A good whipping with a leather
quirt.  She took the quirt out of her briefcase and showed it to the
redhead.  No reaction other than a slight widening of her marvelous
green eyes.  Cindy felt almost sorry for her.  But she whipped her
anyway, beginning in back, working her way up from the girl's slender
thighs, over her ass, and up her back.  She gave her 50 strokes.
Exactly 50.  The girl started to scream on the 5th or 6th stroke and
screamed with each stroke until around 20.  Then she screamed
continually - long, gut wrenching sobs interspersed with high-pitched
screams as each stroke landed.

   Cindy gave the poor bitch a five minute break after the first 50.
Then she asked her if she was ready to talk.  The foolish girl shook
her head.  Cindy started another fifty on the front of the girl's
thighs.  Fifteen there.  Then fifteen across her flat, firm belly.
And twenty across her firm round tits.  When it was over the girl hung
there sobbing and whimpering.  In spite of the cold, her body was
drenched with sweat.  Her head hung forward as she sobbed.  Then it
jerked up and a long scream issued from her as she felt the handle of
the quirt being rammed into her ass.  "Noooooooooooo.  Oh, god, please
nooooo!"  She bit her lip and sobbed as Cindy raped her with the
quirt's leather-wrapped handle, driving it deep into her virgin
asshole. After a few dozen strokes Cindy drove the handle deep into
Sam's ass and left it.  She lit a cigarette and relaxed for a few
minutes while the redhead stared at the floor, sobbing.

                   Undercover Cop III

   Cindy finished her cigarette and decided that it was time to get
serious.  She took a dozen long pins out of her briefcase.  In the old
days they would have been called 'hatpins'.  Each was 3" long, very
sharp, with a flat head.  Sam began to whimper as soon as she saw
them.  Cindy pulled a leather glove on to protect her right hand as
she placed the pins.  She teased Sam's left nipple erect and then
drove the pin through it.  The redhead screamed in agony as the pin
penetrated her nipple, a nipple that was still sore and ultrasensitive
from the whipping.  Another pin went through her right nipple,
accompanied by more screams of pure, unadulterated agony.

   Sam felt Cindy's fingers spreading her labia and she whimpered,
"No, please noooooo."  Then her head went back and she let out a long
piercing scream as a pin was thrust through her clit.  Cindy felt that
Sam's reaction made it worth another and she thrust a second pin
through the girl's clit.  Then, pinching Sam's labia, Cindy thrust
several pins through from side-to-side, closing Sam's cunt by pinning
her labia together.  By now the redhead's vocal chords were strained
and her screams were deep and wrenching.  Cindy spread Sam's buttocks
and drove five pins into the sensitive flesh close to her anus.  She
put each in about 1.5" or halfway.  As each went in, Sam's body arched
and her mouth opened in a hoarse scream of pure agony.  Still, she
refused to talk.  So far no permanent damage had been done.

   Just then the door opened and the boss stepped in, stopping just
inside the door.  "You don't have to be careful anymore.  Do what you
have to, but break her fast."

   Cindy nodded and watched the boss step back through the door.  "Did
you hear?  Are you ready to talk?"  Sam shook her head.  "Stupid
bitch!  Talk and save yourself a lot of pain."  Another head shake.
Cindy shrugged and took out her lighter.  It was a cheap propane
lighter with an adjustable flame.  She turned the flame up and held it
under the end of the pin that pierce Sam's left nipple.  As the pin
heated up the girl began to scream and blubber.  When she didn't
break, Cindy passed the flame slowly across her nipple.  Sam screamed
and fainted.  Cindy revived her by using an ammonia capsule.  Then she
repeated the torture on the girl's right nipple.  Then her clit.  Sam
broke as the needles in her clit turned red hot.  "Pleaaaaassssse!
Stooopppp!  I'll talk.  Oh god!  Please don't hurt me any more."
Cindy left the flame there for another 30 seconds as Sam screamed and
begged.  Finally, satisified that the redhead was truly broken, she
stepped back and walked to the door.  When the boss entered in
response to her knock she told him that the redhead was ready to talk.

   He walked over and looked up at the sobbing girl.  "Who?"  She
lifted her chin and whispered, "Cindy, the bitch standing behind you."
Of course it was a lie but the boss didn't know and Cindy had told him
herself that the bitch had broken.  Of course she could just be naming
the blonde in revenge.  That was probably it.  But why take a chance?
When he turned to confront the blonde he had his gun out.  She went
pale and protested her innocence but she knew from the look in his eye
that it was useless.  He forced her to remove her clothes and kneel.
Then he stepped up behind her and shot her in the back of the head.
She pitched forward and he stooped and put the muzzle of his gun
against her temple and pulled the trigger again.

  The redhead was staring at him in horror when he straightened up and
turned toward her.  "No!  Please!  Oh god no!  Please don't kill me."
She was still begging and pleading when he pushed the muzzle of the
gun into her mouth and pulled the trigger.  He shot her in the temple
to make sure and then turned and left without looking back.  Both
women went into the bay that night.

           THE END.

A Wife's Temptation

   I was five months pregnant, but not showing much.  Not enough to
start with maternity clothes anyway.  The problem was my husband.  He
was treating me like a porcelain doll he was afraid he'd break.  I
assured him that the doctor had said that sex would be okay as long as
we were careful toward the end, but he was still reluctant.  Maybe
pending fatherhood had something to do with it.  Who knows what men
are thinking?  I had an afternoon off because a construction crew had
cut a gas line near the office where I work, so I decided to go out to
the mall and do some shopping.  I though that some sexy lingerie might
arouse Jon's libido enough to make him forget his fears about damaging
me.

   I parked in the new garage next to Lord & Taylor and glanced over
at the new construction.  The mall was already huge and was adding
another 153 stores.  I wondered what the traffic would be like when
they were all open for business.  It was bad enough now, especially
during the holiday season.  Thankfully, that was still months away.
On a hot July afternoon most people were at work, or had better things
to do, and the mall was almost empty.

    Since I'd come straight from work I was dressed in one of my
conservative suits.  (My company requires it's employees to follow a
strict dress code.)  This one was light gray and not as conservative
as some of my suits - the skirt was rather short and showed a good
deal of thigh when I was seated.  Outwardly, the rest of my outfit was
equally conservative - white silk blouse, white stockings, black pumps
with a medium heel.  Underneath it was different - I was wearing a
sexy little lace bra, matching thong panties, and a garter belt.  I
hate pantyhose and rarely wear anything but thigh highs or stockings &
a garterbelt.

   I was still thinking about Jon's attitude as I strolled though the
mall.  One of the things that had attracted him to me in the first
place was the fact that, at 21, I had still been a tomboy - tall,
athletic and able to hold my own with his friends whether it was touch
football, running, or drinking.  And I hadn't changed much in three
years.  Well, I did get pregnant.  But I'm still 5'10", rangy and
athletic even though my weight is up near 140 pounds.  My once-flat
belly is curving out a little, but the rest is pretty much the same -
long slim legs, nice tight butt, and small firm breasts.  And that was
another sore point - I thought I'd get to see what it was like to be
big on top, but it hadn't happened so far.  I was still a 35b, the
only change was having my nipples darken from their former light pink
to a deeper, almost plum color.

   I cruised in and out of Filene's and a couple of other places
without seeing anything that caught my eye.  I did stop in one
maternity shop but the clothes they had on display made me want to cry
and then call for the fashion police.  I was walking past the fountain
in the center court when somebody bumped into me.  I heard a low voice
say, "Sorry, excuse me."  I glanced around and saw a young woman smile
apologetically before hurrying on.  She was young, possibly a high
school girl but more likely a college student working at the mall for
the summer.  At least that's what I assumed because she was dressed
nicely and I thought I glimpsed a name tag before she turned away.

   I continued my lesiurely stroll and eventually wander into a small
shop specializing in lingerie.  They survive in the mall by offering a
line of custom-made bras & girdles that are popular with older women
but they also offer a line of very sexy imports from France.  I'd only
been in once or twice before because they are very pricy and the help
tends to be very agressive, something I never liked.  As I entered one
of the clerks approached and asked if she could help me.  She was one
of the ones I didn't care for - agressive with a superior attitude.
Just as I was about to say, "No, thank you" and leave I caught a
glimpse of the girl who'd bumped into me by the fountain.  I smiled at
the woman and said, "No, I believe that the young lady over there is
the one I was speaking with a short while ago."  The woman gave me a
dirty look, but what could she say?  And it was true, the girl and I
had spoken a few minutes previously.  So what if our conversation had
consisted of "sorry" and "that's okay".

   I walked over to the girl who'd bumped me and saw from her name tag
that her name was Samantha.  "Hi, Samantha, remember me?"  She'd
obviously overheard my comments to the other woman because she smiled
and said, "Yes, of course.  Good to see you again.  What can I do for
you today?"

   "Well," I paused for a moment wondering how to tell her what I was
looking for.  Finally I just plunged right in and told her what was
bothering me.  "I'm pregnant and my husband seems to think I'm
breakable.  I want something that will make him forget his worries."

   She glanced down at my belly and I laughed.  "It's not showing
much, it's more the idea of my being pregnant that's got him into this
state."

   She smiled and showed me some of the newest things from France.
Sexy little thong panties in silk, very sexy bras - some with
half-cups that leave your nipples bare, some very sheer silk teddies
and some lace body suits.  She collected a selection in my size and
showed me into a spacious dressing room.  A real room with a door, not
a cubicle like you find in most store.  She hung everything up on
hooks and asked if I wanted her to stay and help with anything.

   I glanced at her.  She was a small, slim girl with a compact build.
Dark hair, lively brown eyes and a smooth olive/tan complexion.  I
hesitated for a moment and then asked her to stay.  I don't know why
and I've thought a lot about it but I can't come up with an answer.
It was just an impluse.

   I took my jacket off and Sandy took it and hung it on a padded coat
hanger.  Then I unbuttoned my skirt and slipped it off.  I saw a quick
look of surprise flash across her face as she saw what I was wearing
underneath.  Then she smiled and said, "If your husband could see you
now...."  I blushed and thanked her as I started to unbutton my
blouse.  I was starting to feel the first stirrings of excitement.  I
knew it was because I was undressing in front of a stranger and I was
surprised that it excited me even though it was another woman.  My
blouse was hung neatly with my suit and it was time to decide what to
try on first.  I chose one of the teddies, a very sheer black on with
lace trim and slipped it on.

   It looked pretty sexy on me, even if I do say so myself.  Sandy
nodded when I asked her opinion.  "And it will look even sexier when
you aren't wearing anything underneath."

   I glanced in the mirror again and realized that she was right.
Then I wanted to see the full effect before I made a decision.  I
removed the teddy and handed it to Sandy.  When I reached back to
unhook my bra I saw her eyes widen a little and I realized I might be
embarassing her.  I asked if she'd prefer to leave and she shook her
head.  "No ma'am, unless you want me to leave?"

   "My name is Susan and no, I don't want you to leave."  I slipped my
bra off and handed it to her.  Then I hooked my thumbs in the
waistband of my panties and eased them down over my hips and let them
fall.  I hooked them with one foot and tossed them onto a nearby
chair.  Then I was standing there in shoes, stockings, and garterbelt.

   Sandy was hanging my bra and panties with the rest of my things.
When she turned to hand me the teddy she smiled and said, "You're very
beautiful.  I don't see how your husband can resist you."

   I smiled.  "Thanks for the compliment but you know what they say
about familiarity.... we've been married for three years."

   I slipped the teddy back on and it was obvious that she was right.
It looked much sexier with my breasts and pubic mound visible through
the sheer black silk.  I tried on a couple of more and discovered that
it was very arousing to have Sandy there when I was virtually nude.  I
couldn't try on any of the panties because of state laws, but I tried
on the bras.  I wondered what the reaction would be at work if I wore
one of the half-cup bras under a sheer silk blouse.  Probably get
fired or raped.  Maybe both.  I was having problems with one bra that
I particularly liked and Sandy stepped in to help me adjust it.  She
brushed one of my nipples with the back of her hand as she was
adjusting a strap and I felt a jolt of sheer excitement course through
me.  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment.  When I
opened them Sandy was standing there, still close, staring up at me
with a questioning look.  "Are you all right?"  Her voice was full of
concern.

   I nodded.  "Just felt lightheaded for a moment."

   She cocked her head and said, "Are you sure?  You looked pretty
pale there for a minute."  Then, without waiting for my answer she
reached out and tweaked my nipple.

   "Oh god!  Please don't....."  My voice trailed off as she both
nipples between thumb and forefinger and squeezed them gently, pulling
down and away.  I moaned as continued to pinch and pull.  My nipples
have always been extremely sensitive and being pregnant had heightened
that sensitivity trememdously.  The first accident brush of her hand
had really lit me up.  Now I was lost.  "Aren't you worried that
someone might come in?"  There was a quavering quality in my voice
that made her smile.

   "No, not really.  My mother owns the store.  Besides, I slipped the
bolt closed when you weren't looking."

   I glanced over at the door.  The bolt was closed.  She released my
nipples and stepped back.  Bending gracefully, she grabbed the hem of
her dress and pulled it off over her head in one smooth movement.  A
quick glance showed that she apparently wasn't a customer of her
mother's store.  She was wearing a plain cotton bra and matching
panties.  Hanes.  And black thigh highs.  Her compact body was
well-toned and her muscles moved smoothly under her tan skin as she
reached back to unhook her bra.  She glanced at me as she did and
said, "I want you nude.  Hurry.  But put your shoes back on."  She
tossed her bra aside and I saw her breasts.  Small round breasts, very
firm with hard little brown nipples.  She had no tan lines.

   I took off the bra I'd been trying and set it aside.  Then I sat
down and kicked my shoes off.  She nodded and smiled as I unfastened
my stockings.  A little voice in my head was screaming, "What are you
doing???"  But my nipples were still tingling and I was very wet.
Past caring.  Then I was completely nude.  I slipped my shoes back on
and watched her remove her thigh highs.  My eyes drifted up her sleek
slim legs.  No pussy hair.  She was smooth and bare.  Recently waxed
apparently.  I slipped my shoes on.

   "Stand up and walk around."  I obeyed without thinking.  She
watched.  "God!  Your so beautiful!"  I blushed and thanked her.  I
couldn't help looking at myself in the mirror.  I did look good.  My
long blonde hair was still in my trademark French braid.  My breasts
bounced gently as I walked.  I turned so I could see my butt.  Still
tight and smooth.  Thighs ditto.  I said a silent prayer of thanks to
the god of exercise.  Between my legs - a thick patch of carefully
trimmed butterscotch colored pubic hair.  How would I look waxed?
What would Jon think?  Something to ponder.

   "Sit."  Her soft voice interrupted my thoughts.  She was pointing
at one of the chairs.  "On the edge so that you are totally
accessible."

   I moved across the room and sat on the chair, adjusting my position
until she was satisfied.  My knees feet were spread wide, as were my
knees, and I was totally open.  My hands rested palm-down on my
thighs.  Sandy walked over and sank to her knees in front of me.  She
brushed my hands away and told me to clasp them behind my neck.  As I
did so, she put her hands on my knees and then ran then up the tops of
my thighs.  At the same time, she leaned in and put her tongue in my
navel.  It was so sexy!  Her hands moved up my sides and around to cup
my breasts.  I whimpered when she took my now-sore nipples between
thumb and forefinger again.

   She cocked her head.  "No?  You don't want it?"

   I closed my eyes.  "Please......."

   "Please?  Please what?  Yes?  Or no?"  She squeezed gently.

   "Yesssss.  Please!  Yesss.  Oh god yes!!!"  I bit my lip as she
clamped down and twisted as she pulled.  Shit, it hurt!  But such a
delicious pain.  One that sent jolts of electricity right to my wet
pussy.  She pinched harder.  "Yessss.  Hurt me.  Please hurt me!"
Wait a minute?  Was this my voice?  Yes.  Undoubtedly.  Begging her to
hurt me.  Just when I was on the edge of tolerance she eased off and
released them.  Then she bent her head and I felt her kiss me on the
inside of my left thigh.  Her tongue traced a trail over my thigh to
my pussy.  I closed my eyes and sighed as she explored me with her
strong tongue.  I love being eaten and it was so different - softer
and gentler in some ways and stronger, more insistent in others.  Soft
cheeks and pursed lips, a knowing tongue.  No beard burn.  No 'lets
get this done so I can fuck you' attitude.  Just a slow lesiurely
exploration by a strong, eager tongue.

   After a couple of minutes she paused and said, "Put your legs over
my shoulders and rest your heels on my back.  It will open you up
more."  I did as she asked and she was right.  I gasped as she drove
her tongue deep into my cunt.  Then she ran the tip of her finger over
my anus.  I stiffened up and whispered, "Nooooo, please don't"  She
ignored me.  I tried again, "Please don't touch me there."  Again she
ignored me. I felt her finger pressing against my anus and I wiggled
to try and discourage her.  She nipped my clit with sharp little
teeth.  "Relax and enjoy it or I'll bite you."  I sighed and then she
pushed her finger into my ass!  Christ!  It triggered the most
fantastic orgasm of my life.  As I started to cum, she reached up with
her free hand and grabbed a nipple, twisting hard.  I moaned and
whispered, "Oh, fuck!  What are you doing to me?"

   By then we'd been alone in the dressing room for about an hour but
nobody had bothered us.  When I calmed down she was kneeing there with
a satisifed little smile on her face.  "What are you smiling about?"

   She shrugged.  "Nothing, except your the first pregnant woman I've
ever had?"

   "Oh and have you 'had' many women?"  My voice was low to match
hers.

   "A few.  I enjoy seducing young married women."  She reached out
and picked up my feet and placed one on each of her thighs.  Then she
began to massage my calves.  After a couple of minutes she picked up
my left foot and began to rub it.  It felt good!  Real good!  She
smiled as my sigh of contentment.  "I can't imagine your husband not
wanting to fuck you every night.  If you were mine I'd use you hard
every night.  Very hard."

   I felt a quiver of excitment pass through me at her matter-of-fact
tone.  I tried to imagine how she'd 'use me hard'.  I wanted to cum
again, but it was getting late.  Reluctantly I withdrew my foot from
her hand and stood up.  She kissed me, rubbing her hard little tits
against mine, lifting her knee between my thighs to rub my mound.  I
moaned and leaned back against the wall.  She pinched my nipples and
then her hand drifted down across my belly.  I closed my eyes and
whispered, "Yes, oh yes!"  Her hand drifted between my legs and she
masturbated me to another delicious orgasm.

   Well, to shorten the story, I wound up buying most of what I tried
on.  One teddy I bought in mulitiple colors.  It cost me over $350 and
I wondered if Jon would think it was worth it.  Sandy handed me a slip
of paper before I left.  "My 'cell phone number," she said.  "Call me
sometime.  I'm here until Labor Day and then I head back to Yale for
my sophomore year."  I had no intention of calling her and stopped at
the first trash barrel to discard the slip of paper.  But then
something stopped me.  I tucked it into my wallet and continued on to
my car.

   That night, when Jon came home from work, I greeted him at the door
wearing one of the sheer black teddies and nothing else.  I handed him
a Martini and invited him to follow me into the dining room.  When I
got there I took the teddy off and bent over the dining room table,
resting my weight on my forearms.  Then I glanced back at him and
tilted my head toward a tube of K-Y jelly that I'd placed on the
sideboard earlier.  "Use that liberally.  I want you to fuck me in the
ass.  Now."  His eyes widened in surprise but he wasted no time in
removing his clothes.  He was hard and I watched him lubricate his
cock.  His cock's not that big, 7", but it is kind of thick and he
certainly knows how to use it.  In no time the head of his cock was
pressing against my anus.  "Pinch my nipples," I commanded and he did.
Enthusiastically.  I whimpered and begged, "Harder, pinch me harder.
And fuck me.  Deep.  Put it in deep.  Make me beg."

   He did.  I did.  It was fantastic.  And it has continued to be
fantastic.  I still have Sandy's number.  Maybe in the fall.  I'll be
seven months in mid September.

      THE END

Hannah and Sara - F/f, b/d by JYM

A Walk In The Park.

My name is Hannah Jensen and I'm a happily married woman.  Very
happily married.  I'm thirty-one years old, have a 13 month old
daughter named Sarah, and a wonderful husband, Jim, who's a CPA. We've
been married for six years and it's been wonderful.  Jim is the
classic 'tall, dark and handsome' man that every girl dreams about.
Don't get me wrong, we've had our problems, but for the most part it's
been wonderful

The only rough stretch came during the first six months after Sarah's
birth.  I couldn't seem to rekindle any interest in sex and Jim
suffered through it without a murmur.  I worked hard and got back into
shape and did my best, but sex just didn't appeal to me.  It wasn't
that I was scared of getting pregnant again (Sarah's birth was very
difficult), but..... I was just reluctant.

Sarah was just six months old when we went for a walk in the park. We
live in a nice suburb that borders a big park with a world famous rose
garden that's over 100 years old.  I love to put Sarah in her carriage
when the weather is good and walk through the park with her. I know
she'll love the flowers when she's older.  This particular day was a
very hot day in July, a week or so after the 4th.  The sun was
shining, the sky was cloudless, and it was very humid.

When we left the house I was wearing a rather baggy, loose fitting
sleeveless cotton top, a short denim skirt, and sandals.  I was back
in shape and proud of it.  I'm not beautiful, but I am fairly
attractive.  I'm 5'8" tall, usually weigh around 125 pounds, and I
have a nice figure (34c-25-35).  My legs are my best feature - they're
long and sleek and nicely curved and my thighs are smooth and firm.
I'm proud of them and like to show them off.  As for the rest, I have
brown hair, worn very short now, brown eyes, and a smooth olive-tan
complexion.

We crossed the street into the park and went up the path to the rose
garden.  Sarah was content to suck on her pacifier and wave her little
hands around.  I walked slowly to give me time to admire the flowers
and to avoid getting sweaty.  It was hot and I knew I couldn't keep
Sarah out too long - but there were shady spots where I could park the
carriage and take a break out of the sun.

After a few minutes I turned away from the rose garden and crossed the
grass to the new rock garden that had been put in over the past two
seasons.  It was shady there and much cooler.  I was crouching to
examine a plant I'd never seen before when I heard the click and whir
of a motorized camera.  I glanced up and saw a very attractive young
woman taking pictures a few feet down the path.  She glanced over and
smiled and I smiled back.

She had a Nikon camera, with a macro zoom lens, set on a sturdy
professional tripod.  My husband and I dabble in photography (he'd
hate it if he knew I said dabble - he's serious about it) so I knew
that I was looking at a professional setup.  The woman looked to be no
more than 18 or 19 but I knew she had to be older.  She was a redhead
and I was surprised at how tanned she was.  Her thick red hair was
pulled back into a French braid that hung almost to her waist.  She
was wearing denim shorts, a tank top, and was barefoot.  Her arms and
legs were smoothly muscled and I guessed she worked out regularly.

She took a couple of more shots and then straightened up and walked
over and bent over the carriage.  She smiled at Sarah and glanced up
to ask me how old she was.  I saw that her eyes were a deep green, a
shade I'd never seen before.  "Six months, her name is Sarah."  My
voice sounded strange to me and I wondered if I was catching a summer
cold.

The redhead grinned and said, "My name is Sara - without an 'h'. Your
Sarah is very pretty."

"So are you!"  As soon as the words were out of my mouth I found
myself wondering why I'd said that.  It was true of course, but
still....

She blushed and said, "Thank you, you're very kind."

Desperate to change the subject, I asked about the pictures she was
taking.  She told me that she was a professional photographer and was
working on a book about public gardens in the United States.  We
chatted for a while and I found myself fascinated by her descriptions
of the gardens she'd visited and photographed and the characters she'd
met while doing so.

She had a wedding ring on and I asked how her husband dealt with all
her traveling.  She blushed again and admitted that she wasn't
married, she just wore the ring as a way to discourage unwanted
attention.  We talked for a few more minutes and then she asked me if
I'd mind posing for her.  I hesitated and then let her talk me into
it.  I wanted to pose, but didn't want to seem too eager.

She moved her tripod and replaced the macro zoom with a 105mm
telephoto.  I posed in front of the rock garden, moving and changing
position as she directed.  I found that I enjoyed posing very much.
She kept up a steady stream of encouragement, directions, flattery,
and just plain chatter.

She stopped at one point to change film and I changed Sarah's diaper
while she was busy.  Then she posed me crouching in front of an
ornamental grass plant, a big purple specimen that I wished I had in
my garden.  I was facing the camera at a 45 degree angle and she
directed me to pull my skirt back a little to show more of my 'long
beautiful legs' as she put it.  I tugged it up a little and then a
little more.  She moved a little and asked me to open my knees
slightly - I knew she was going to get a revealing shot of my inner
thighs, but I didn't mind.

She finished the roll very quickly and I learned a little about what
it was like to model for a professional photographer - it was mostly a
matter of taking directions, something I've always done well. She had
me take my sandals off for the third or fourth shot, then kneel with
my skirt up high to show my thighs.  A later pose had me roll my top
up from the waist to show my bare midriff.  I quite enjoyed posing and
was disappointed when the second roll of film was finished.

Sara told me she'd develop and print the pictures overnight and would
have them ready the next day.  She offered to meet me in the park and
give me a set of prints.  I hesitated for a moment and then suggested
that she bring them to the house in the morning.  "My mother is taking
Sarah for the day so I can work in the yard.  You're welcome to come
over for breakfast and I'll show you my garden."  I held my breath
while I waited for her to answer.  I didn't know why, but it was
suddenly very important that she accept my invitation.

It was her turn to hesitate.  Then she smiled and said, "I was
planning to check out of my motel and leave in the morning after
dropping off the prints, but I guess I could stay over and spend the
day visiting.  Maybe I can get some pictures of your garden for my
book.  She gave me the address of the motel and the phone number so I
could call if anything came up.  Then we walked to the parking lot and
she packed her stuff in her van and followed me home, irking a few
drivers who didn't like her slow pace.

She pulled into the driveway and we chatted for a few minutes.  She
wrote down the address and I gave her the number of my cell phone.
Then it was time for me to take Sarah in for lunch and time for Sara
to go.  She held her hand out and we shook.  Then, holding my hand
tightly, she pulled me forward until I was pressed against the door of
the van.  We stared at each other for a moment and then she kissed me
on the mouth.  It was strange kissing another woman - strange and
different, softer, more intimate, more erotic than kissing a man.  I
was stunned.  I leaned againt the door and let her tongue probe deep
into my mouth.

The kiss ended, finally, and I stepped back, dazed.  I stared at her
for a moment and she smiled and whispered, "Bye.  Call me if you
change your mind about tomorrow."  Then she put the van in gear and
backed out of the driveway.  I stood there and watched her drive down
the street and turn the corner.  Then I took Sarah inside and fixed
lunch for both of us.  The rest of the day passed in a kind of a blur.
I couldn't forget the kiss.  Nor could I forget how much I had enjoyed
modelling for Sara.  And I couldn't forget her strange green eyes.

That night seemed to last forever.  My husband got home late and was
preoccupied with some problems one of his clients was having.  I went
to bed at 10 p.m. and had trouble falling asleep.  Then I woke up at
2:00 a.m. and had trouble getting back to sleep.  I went downstairs
and walked in the yard, wearing only the man's undershirt that I use
for a nightshirt.  It's an XL and fits me like a short dress - to
mid-thigh.  The armholes are huge and revealing and it's been washed
so many times that it fits me like a glove and the material is very
thin.  It's my favorite thing to wear to bed, but that night it felt
stifling even though the temperature at 2:00 a.m. was only 70 degrees.
I turned the hose on and let a stream of cold water wash over me.  My
nipples hardened and then I was shivering.  I went inside and dried
off and went back to bed nude.

I was up at 6:00 and took Sarah over to my mother's house at 7:00. I
was home and showered by 8:00.  Then I tried to decide what to wear. I
finally decided on plain work-in-the-garden casual - an old pair of
faded denim cutoffs, a sleeveless denim shirt - old, faded, and soft,
plain cotton underwear (Hanes), white cotton socks and workboots.  I
took a long look in the mirror and decided that the cutoffs weren't
short enough.  I took them off and cut another 2" off each leg and
then made a little slit in each side next to the seam.  Much better,
much sexier.

Sara arrived at 9:00, wearing linen shorts and a sleeveless top
cropped just below her bust.  She looked very sexy.  I poured her a
cup of coffee while she spread the prints out on the dining room
table.  I was stunned when I saw them.  They were black and white,
developed and printed in a portable darkroom in the bathroom of her
motel room, but they were great!  I looked.... professional, sexy,
beautiful, mysterious.  I looked at each one several times.  It wasn't
vanity - I was just stunned at how good she made me look.

I asked her how she'd done it and she grinned, "Magic, it's magic! But
seriously, there are just some people that the camera loves -
photogenic some call it, but I call it love, and you happen to be one
of them.  People like you always look great in pictures.  You should
see some of the top models in person - you wouldn't give them a second
glance.  But the camera loves them and they look great on film.  If
you were a few years younger....."

Her voice trailed off and I shrugged.  "That's okay.  I'm 31 and I'm
happy with my life."

Sara nodded.  "I can see that.  You ooze contentment, but I sense a
slight discord.  And yesterday you did seem to respond...."

I shook my head.  "Not now, please.  Let's go look at my gardens." I
turned and started toward the kitchen and the back door.  Sara grabbed
her cameras and followed.  I stepped out onto the deck and held the
door for her, enjoying her gasp of surprise as she got her first
glimpse of our backyard.  Most people react like that.

Our house is set on a lot that measures 400' wide by 800' deep.
Originally part of a 15 acre parcel owned by the city, and intended to
be part of the park, it had been cut off from the park when the
adjoining town, in which the land lay, insisted on putting a road
through.  The road I live on.  So the 15 acres was never developed and
the land our house was on was sold to a prominent politican who built
the house in the early 1930s.  We bought it three years ago.  The rest
of the parcel is used by the park for various purposes.  There is a
small greenhouse, a maintainence shed, and quite a number of
experimental plots.  A lot of it is quite overgrown.  Our land is
completely surrounded by an 8' stockade fence that the city put in and
maintains.  So our yard is very private.

And very beautiful.  We have a two-level deck on the back of the house
with exits onto the upper level from the back bedrooms.  Stairs lead
down to the lowerlevel which has an exits onto it from the kitchen and
diningroom.  Then another set of stairs lead down to the ground level
where there is a bluestone patio surrounding an inground pool and spa.
To the left is a three-car garage with a small apartment on the second
floor.  The pool is surrounded by a 4' wrought iron fence.  Beyond the
pool is a big stretch of lawn.

The land slopes upward starting about 120' behind the house.  This is
where I've put my gardens.  Over the past two years I've created a
series of terraces for my rock garden.  In the far back corner, on the
right, there is a huge boulder that was left when the house was built.
It's about 9' in diameter and must weight 7 or 8 tons.  It's just
inside the fence and is the focal point of my garden.  I've got 4
levels of terraces that I've dug by hand.  I've had some smaller
boulders brought in - 2'-4' in diameter and weighing 500-1,000 pounds.
I've got them scattered around the various levels and now I'm filling
in with smaller rocks and crushed stone.  I've started planting on the
upper two levels and I'm currently working on putting in a form for a
water garden on the lowest level.  I've had water and electricity run
out there and I'm working on the hole.

Sara glanced at me with a delighted smile on her face and then skipped
down the stairs and ran across the lawn to the garden.  I followed at
a slower pace, enjoying her enthusiasm.  She headed back to the garden
and began snapping pictures.  As I approached, she turned and snapped
a few of me.  "Oh, Hannah!" She exclaimed, "I love it!  I want to
document the rest of your work!"

I smiled and told her that she was welcome anytime.  I watched her as
she shot a full roll of film. "Just preliminary shots, I want to have
them so I can plan.  Can I shoot you as you work?"

"Of course, I'd love it.  My mom takes Sarah two days a week and Jim
is here on weekends to watch her."

She turned and looked back at the house and noticed the balcony on the
back of the garage - and the skylights.  "What's up there?"

I explained how the original owner's wife (the politican) had
artisitic ambtions and he'd build an apartment onto the second level
of the garage for her to use as a studio.  "We had plans to renovate
when we first bought the house.  We thought we'd rent it out and the
income would be a nice cushion."

Sara nodded.  "What happened?"

"Well, we were caught in a kind of Catch-22 situation.  We needed the
income but didn't have the money for the renovations.  Then my
grandmother died and left me some money.  Quite a lot of money
actually, and we didn't need the income anymore so we never renovated
the apartment."

Sara grinned.  "Can I look at it?"

"Of course.  But I have to warn you.  It's pretty grim."

She grabbed my hand and tugged.  "Come on, please!  I want to see it."

I let her lead me back up the yard to the house.  She went out to her
van to get her equipment bag and I went inside to get the keys to the
apartment.  When I came back out she was just setting her bag down on
the deck.  She was very excited as we climbed the stairs to the door.
I expected her to be disappointed when I finally got the door opened
and ushered her inside, but she was delighted.  The place was a real
mess, but she saw the possibilities - like I'd seen them for a garden
in what had been an overgrown yard.

The garage apartment is basically two big rooms.  A combination
kitchen/living room and a bedroom/studio.  There is a bathroom and a
small room for storage.  The total area is about 25' x 35' as the
garage is really a 3 car garage with a storage area.  Sara walked
around and nodded occasionally, whispering to herself.  Once she
lifted her hand to point at something on the ceiling, a water spot,
and her top lifted, baring her small, pert breasts. It was
..enchanting.

She caught me looking and grinned.  "Do you like them?"

I felt myself blushing and stammered, "YYYYes, they're pretty." What a
stupid comment I thought to myself immediately afterward.  Then I
stamped my foot in mock anger and said, "Don't do that - don't make me
blush like that.  I hate it."

She grinned and said, "Then you don't want me to take my top off?"

I blushed again and turned away.

She laughed.  "I heard you.  What was that you muttered under your
breath."

I glanced over my should, my face still flaming. "Bitch. That's what I
said." And I said, "Yes."

She smiled, a sweet gentle smile that lit up her face like a thousand
watt bulb.  "Really?"

I nodded.  "Yes, really."  And wondered what the hell I was doing.

She slipped her top off and tucked it into the waistband of her
shorts.  I tried not to stare at her but her bare breasts were so
pretty.  They're small, maybe a b-cup, perfectly conical in shape, and
tipped with hard little pink nipples.  Which instantly came erect.

She looked at me looking at her and grinned again.  "Now you."

I nodded and slowly unbuttoned my shirt.  I slipped it off and looked
for a place to put it, but there wasn't a spot that was free of dust.
I turned and opened the door and draped my shirt over the railing.
Then I turned back and looked straight at Sara as I reached back to
unhook my bra.  When I eased it off my breasts bounced gently and Sara
took a deep breath.  "God," she whispered, "You have beautiful tits.
I wish mine were bigger."  I tossed my bra on top of my shirt and
stepped back into the room.  It felt deliciously wicked to be topless
in the presence of another woman, an almost total stranger.

We walked around the apartment and Sara pointed out things that could
be done.  Then she said she wanted to talk seriously about leasing the
place.  We went back to the house and I poured coffee for us and we
went out onto the deck.  Sara made her pitch.  She said she'd do the
renovations herself, except for the plumbing, if I'd pay for the
material and then lease her the place for a year with an option for a
second year at an increase of no more than 10%.  I was
hesitant, but she convinced me that she could do the work.  She grew
up with five older brothers, the only daughter, and her father was a
carpenter.  One of her brothers is an electrican.  She told me she
could do the carpentry and the electrical work - we'd just need to
have it inspected.  And we'd have to find a plumber.  Preferably a
woman plumber.

We talked money and she agreed to do a detailed estimate of material
costs.  We argued about the amount of the lease and came to an
agreement.  She dragged her equipment bag over to the table and pulled
out a pad and pencil.  Something else fell out, something that looked
like a rubber ball, but had black nylon straps attached to it. She
picked it up quickly and went to stuff it back into the bag.  I asked
her what it was.  This time it was her turn to blush and I giggled as
a wave of red moved down over her chest.  She said something too low
for me to catch and I asked her to repeat it.

"Bitch.  I said bitch."  Then she grinned.  "It's a ball gag."  I must
have look puzzled because she shook her head and continued, "It's a
gag.  I'm into mild b&d.  Does that shock you?"

"A little," I admitted.  "But I'm also curious."

She pulled the ball gag out of the bag again and set it on the table.
Then she pulled out some additional items, naming each as she set it
down.

"Wrist cuffs."  Leather straps like little belts with rings and a
place for a small padlock.

"Ankle cuffs."  Pretty much the same except slight larger.

"Nipple Clips."  Small metal clips with padded jaws and strong
springs.  I shivered when I saw them.

"Chains."  A set of short chains with very fine links and spring clips
on each end.

"Dildo."  A realistic penis made of rubber - about 8" long and thick.

"Butt Plug."  A black plastic device that had a flared base.

"Another Dildo."  This one attached to a pair of black nylon panties.

"Vibrator."  A big one with a black switch on the base.

"Penis Gag."  Another realistic penis about 5" long and thick, with
straps.

"Anal Vibrator."  Thinner and not as long as the other one.

"More clips."  Small metal clips some with padded jaws and some with
sawtooth jaws.

When she was done she sat back and looked at me.  "Well, are you too
shocked?  Should I pack up and leave?"

I glanced from her to her collection and then back again.  "No." My
voice was a whisper.  "Please don't leave."

She stared at me in silence for a moment and then nodded.  She picked
up the wrist cuffs and asked if I wanted to try them on.  I hesitated
and then nodded.  "Yes, I would."  My voice still a whisper.

She got up and came around the table.  I held out my hands while she
attached the cuffs.  The she had me stand up and bring my wrists
around behind my back.  When I did, she used a spring clip to fasten
the cuffs together.  I was helpless.  And shocked at how excited I
was.

Sara watched me try to free myself and smiled when I gave up.
"Scared?"

I admitted that I was.  She asked if I wanted her to take them off. I
hesitated and then whispered, "Not if you don't want to."

She grinned.  Then she picked up a pair of nipple clamps and ran her
fingers over my nipples until they were erect and hard.  I closed my
eyes and moaned as she fastened the clamps to my nipples.  The pain
was intense, but bearable.  And made me very wet.

She watched me for a minute and then informed me that she was going to
strip me.  I shook my head.  "No, please don't."

"Do you want me to gag you?"  She waited for me to answer.

"No."

"Then be a good girl."  She unsnapped my shorts and eased them down
over my hips.  Then she knelt to work them off over my workboots.  She
folded them neatly and placed them over the back of my chair.  Still
kneeling, she reached up and pulled my panties down.  I lifted each
foot in turn and she worked them off over my boots.  Then she glanced
up and asked if I wanted my workboots on or off.  I thought about it
for a moment.  "Off.  I want to be entirely nude."

She untied my boots and took them off.  But she insisted on leaving my
socks on.  "Looks sexier," she explained.  Then she reached up and ran
the back of her hand over my thick pubic bush.  "This will have to
go."  I nodded.

She stood up and looked me over carefully, motioning me to turn.
"Slowly, I want to study your body."  I turned slowly, my eyes closed.
I had never been so excited.  The pain in my nipples was delicious.

After a minute or two, she told me I could stop.  "You have an
incredibly beautiful body.  I want to photograph you extensively.  I
want you to work nude in the garden.  Will you?"

I opened my eyes and found I was facing away from her. I turned and
told her that I'd think about it. She stepped close and removed the
nipple clips. I sighed as the pain vanished. Then she unsnapped the
spring clip and freed my wrists. I stood there, hands at my sides, and
waited.

She sat down and looked up at me.  "Decision time."  She reached up
suddenly and slipped a hand between my legs.  Her fingers came away
wet.  She licked them delicately, like a cat licks its paw.  "You're
very wet and very tasty."  She looked up at me and smiled.  "Where do
we go from here?"

I shook my head.  "I don't know," I answered truthfully.  "I just
don't know."

"Do you want me to leave?"  She waited patiently while I thought it
over.

"No, I don't."

"You were, are, obviously turned on.  Why?"

"You.  You turn me on.  And so do these things."  I gestured at the
bondage toys spread across the table.  "And so does the pain," I
whispered.  "The delicious pain."

She kicked her sandals off and stretched her bare feet out in front of
her.  "You have to make a decision.  Right now.  We can go ahead or we
can stop and remain just friends.  If you want to go ahead then your
place is on your knees for I mean to have you as my slave.  My nude
personal slave.  I want you on your belly, licking my feet and
acknowledging your slavery."

I took a deep breath and looked out across the yard.  Then I looked
back at Sara.  Small, slim, beautiful Sara with her pretty legs and
pert little tits.  And her wide, smiling mouth.  I dropped to my knees
and then down onto my belly.  I kissed each of her small, pretty feet
and then licked them in submission.  She sighed with pleasure.  Then
she leaned over and fastened the cuffs together behind my back.  I was
a slave.

A Walk In The Park - II

Sara let me lick her feet for several minutes.  Then she said,
"Enough."  Her tone was commanding and I stopped instantly.  She
snapped her fingers and ordered me up onto my knees.  I rolled onto my
back and sat up.  The I eased myself up onto my knees.  She told me
the proper position was with my ankles crossed and my knees spread as
far apart as I could.  I adjusted my position instantly.

Then Sara stared down at me in silence for a long minute.  "Hannah,
are you sure about this?  I don't want you to do it if you aren't. And
I don't want it to interfere with our other arrangements."  She
gestured at the garage to make sure I knew which arrangements she was
referring to.

I thought about it for a moment, my eyes fixed on her small feet. Feet
I had just spent five minutes licking.  Then I glanced up at her and
said, "Yes, I'm sure.  I want this.  Need it."

She nodded slowly.  "Why?  Explain it to me?"

"Okay, I'll try.  Since Sarah was born I have been terrified of having
sex with Jim.  He's fucked me exactly three times in 13 months. The
last time was almost  four months ago.  He hasn't come near me since.
I thought I'd never feel anything again.  Then when you kissed me
yesterday.... well, I felt something.  The old familiar tingle between
my legs.  And then today, when I caught a glimpse of your bare tits I
felt it again.  But when that ballgag rolled out of your bag.... Wow.
I really felt it.  It scares me.  I may be making a major mistake.
But I want you here.  I want you do use me as you wish.  Photograph
me.  Turn me into your sex slave.  Anything you want.  And then maybe
I can fuck Jim again.  The way he wants.  The way I want."

Sara grinned.  Her whole face came alive.  "Shall we sign two leases?"
And she laughed, reaching down to cup my tits and squeeze them gently.
I turned my face up for a kiss.  "You don't need a lease on me," I
murmurred.  "You own me.  For as long as you want."

And so on that hot humid July morning I became Sara Louise Hunter's
personal sex slave.  And landlady.

She took me down onto the lawn and put me on my knees.  Then she
gagged me and put clips on my nipples and labia.  And she photographed
me while I knelt there and whimpered from the pain in my tits and
between my legs.  After a while she removed the gag and continued to
photograph me while I whimpered and begged for mercy.  The more it
hurt, the more I begged, the more excited I became.

She went to change film and came back with a riding crop.  I stared at
her and whispered, "Yes, oh please.  Whip me.  Hurt me."

She took my shoulders and eased me forward until my head and chest
were on the ground and my ass was elevated nicely for the whip.  And
she leaned over and whipped me on the ass.  Fifteen hard strokes while
I sobbed and begged for mercy.  Mercy that I didn't really want and
didn't get.

After fifteen hard strokes my ass was burning.  She lifted me back to
my knees and kissed the tears streaming down my face.  She went back
to the deck and returned wearing the panties with the attached dildo.
She put me back down in the same position and knelt behind me. I was
very wet and the dildo slid in easily.  I took a deep breath and
moaned with pleasure as she fucked me hard.  A few dozen strokes and I
had a fantastic orgasm!  She continued to fuck me and I had another.
And another.  Then she withdrew and I whimpered with disappointment. A
few seconds later I felt her spread my buttocks and press the head of
the dildo against my anus.

I turned my head and tried to look back up at her.  She pushed a
little and I moaned.  "Do you want it?  Have you ever been
ass-fucked?"  

"No, I've never been fucked there."  I hesitated.  Then I pushed back
against the dildo and she chuckled.  And thrust her hips forward in
one strong, smooth stroke that drove the dildo into my virgin ass. I
took a deep breath and screamed with pleasure.  "Oh!  God!  Yes! Fuck
my ass hard.  Please."

Sara grasped my hips and fucked me hard and deep.  I moaned as she
drove the dildo in and out of my tight asshole.  Then she reached
around and grabbed my tits.  She found the clips and squeezed them
hard.  Pain shot through my nipples.  I bucked under her and screamed,
this time in agony.  "Oh shit!  Yes!  Hurt me!  Hurt me!  Hurt me!"
She she found my clit and rubbed it with knowing fingers.  I climaxed
again, bucking under her and screaming with pleasure/pain.

After I calmed down, she removed everything and helped me to my feet.
We walked up to the pool and jumped in.  We swam for an hour, enjoying
the feel of the cool water on our nude bodies.  During the swim we
stopped frequently to kiss and fondle each other.  She brought me off
with her tongue and taught me how to do her with mine.  I loved the
taste of her pussy and couldn't get enough.  And I licked her tightly
puckered little anus and loved it!

By then it was almost 11:30 and I heard my cell phone ring. It was
laying on the table by the pool and I hopped out to answer. It was
Jim. He wanted to tell me that a problem had come up and he was flying
to Chicago, in fact was calling from the airport.  Said he'd try to
get a flight back late, but expected he'd probably have to stay over.
I told him I'd miss him and had some news for him. He told me he'd
miss me too. "I love you," he whispered and then he had to go.

I turned back to the pool and Sara was sitting on the far side with a
concerned look on her face.  I put the phone down and dove in,
swimming underwater to the far side.  I came up in front of her and
held the wall on either side of her.  I kissed her pretty knees and
told her that Jim would be out of town.  She smiled and asked if I was
happy about it or sad.  "A combination, I think.  Happy that we can
have more time, sad that he won't be home tonight so I can show him
what you've done for me.  Turned me back on.  Literally.  Thank you."

She grinned and ruffled my hair.  "No problem.  Any time."  She pushed
me back gently with one foot and slipped into the water.  We hugged,
rubbing our bodies together and I rested my chin on her shoulder.
"Would you be upset if I said I love you?"

She shook her head.  "No, I wouldn't.  Do you?"

I leaned back and stared into her eyes.  "Yes, Sara Louise, I love
you."

She kissed the tip of my nose.  "Good, because I love you, too. Now
how about some lunch?  I'm starving!"

I laughed and climbed out of the water, reaching back to help her. She
grabbed my hand and I lifted her out of the pool in one smooth motion.
She's only 5'3" and maybe 110 pounds and it was no strain to lift her.
She was surprised and impressed.  I pointed at the garden. "I've been
digging and lifting and hauling for two years.  I've developed some
muscles."

We squeezed the water out of our hair and climbed the steps to the
lower deck.  I went in through the basement door and grabbed two
towels from the pile I keep on a table just inside the door.  I threw
one to Sara and we climbed up to the upper deck and dried off.  I
loved looking at her body and told her so.  She grinned and put her
underpants down.  "Okay, we'll stay nude if you prefer."

We went inside and rummaged through the refrigerator, finally settling
on Tuna sandwiches with a salad.  And lemonade.  Sara made the salad
while I mixed the Tuna with lemon juice, chopped green pepper, chopped
onions, and a pinch of Basil.  I made big sandwiches on Beefsteak Rye
and Sara protested that she'd never finish hers.  But she devoured
every crumb and looked hopefully at the last quarter of my sandwich.
I groaned in mock dismay and pushed my plate across the table.  She
grinned happily and dug in.

As she was finishing up, I casually mentioned that my mother had been
bugging me to leave Sarah overnight sometime.  Sara glanced up.
"Really?  Do you want to....."  Her voice trailed off.  I nodded.  I
ran down and got the cell phone and called mom.  She was delighted
when I asked if she could keep Sarah overnight.  I told her that Jim
was out of town and I had a girlfriend over and wanted to spend some
time with her.  Mom told me to enjoy myself and got off the phone as
soon as she could, before I changed my mind.

When I put the phone down Sara snapped her fingers and I dropped to my
knees in front of her.  I kissed her right knee and waited to see what
would happen next.  She leaned back and told me I could sit back on my
heels.  I did so and then she lifted her feet and placed them on my
thighs, just above my knees.  I took her left foot in both hands and
lifted it so that I could massage it.  She closed her eyes and moaned
with pleasure as I worked on her foot.  When I finished the
left one, I did the right one.  

When I was done she opened her eyes and smiled lazily.  "How can I
whip you after that?  Maybe we should wax your pussy instead.  Ok?"

I nodded.  "But why are you asking me?  I'm your slave."

"Good point."  She leaned forward and slapped me lightly.  "Get you
ass going and get dressed.  We'll go buy a waxing kit.  Wear a short
skirt, a little top, and sandals.  Nothing else.  Now go."

I nodded and jumped to my feet.  I ran upstairs and dried my hair with
the blowdryer.  Sara followed lesiurely and used it when I was done.
Then I pulled out some things and showed them to her.  She chose the
denim skirt I'd worn the day before and a little blue cotton top.  I
slipped them on and she nodded in approval.  We did our makeup and
then she went downstairs and picked her clothes up from the deck. I
watched her dress with mixed feelings.  God, I loved seeing her nude.

On the way to a drugstore in her van she brought up the subject of the
lease on the garage.  "Will you have to get Jim's agreement?"

She was stroking my left thigh, my skirt pushed high, and I was
finding it hard to concentrate.  "No, the house is in my name."  I
glanced at her and grinned slyly.  "He did it for business reasons. So
nobody could come after it if they sued the partners and won. Besides,
most of the money we have in the house came from my inheritance."

We pulled into the parking lot at the drugstore and I looked around
quickly to see if there were any familiar cars.  She noticed and said,
"Don't worry, I'll behave.  The last thing I want to do is embarass
you or endanger your marriage."  

I sighed with relief and whispered, "Thank you.  I love you so much!"

Once inside the drugstore we hurried to the cosmetic counter and spoke
to the teenaged girl working there.  She showed us where the waxing
kits were shelved, but most of them were the kind with the pre-waxed
strips, suitable for doing your legs, but not for your bikini area.
At least that what Sara said.  The girl nodded.  "Yes, you need the
hot wax kit.  And then you need some cheesecloth. We have a couple
under the counter.  They don't sell too well these days." She found
them and we took both.  Then we found a package of cheesecloth over
near the car polish.

We made a couple of more stops while we were out.  A hardware store,
where we got a lot of attention, and a wholesaler that carried all
kinds of supplies for hair salons.  Sara bought some scissiors and a
set of electric hair clippers.  I didn't need to ask what she needed
them for, but I was in for a surprise.  Once back at the house, out on
the back deck, she had me strip and sit on one of the kitchen stools
she brought out.  Then she told me she was going to give me a haircut
before waxing my pubic area.  I looked over my shoulder and she
laughed.  "Don't look so skeptical.  I trained as a hairdresser before
I quit and went to school to learn photography.  I'm going to cut your
hair short, much shorter than it is now."

I turned and gazed out over the garden and she went to work.  She cut
my hair very short, no longer than 2" anywhere, and used the clipper
to clean the hair off the back of my neck.  When she was done I went
inside and stood in front of the mirror.  I was astonished at how
great my hair looked that short.  She had me washe my hair in the
kitchen sink when I returned.  Then Sara was rummaged through the
refrigerator until she found what she was looking for, a lemon, and
cut it in half.  Then she had me sit in the sun and she squeezed lemon
juice in my wet hair.  She told me that it would give me sexy blonde
streaks in my light brown hair.

She had me sit in one of the chairs from the patio set, with my feet
up on the railing and spread wide.  Then she had me scoot forward
until my butt was on the edge of the chair.  This allowed her to
crouch in front of me and clip the hair on my pubic mound while the
sun worked on my hair.  Later, she had me stretch out on my back while
she carefully placed strips of cheesecloth over my pubic mound and
carefully ladled warm melted wax onto them.  "Don't move," she warned,
"I don't want to burn you."

I stayed very quiet.  She rubbed my belly gently while the wax dried.
Then she grabbed the end of one of the strips of cloth and said, "You
may scream."  Then she ripped it off.  I did scream.  She ripped the
other strip off before I had a chance to think.  After a quick check
she told me it would take two more to do the job.  At least two.
Actually it took four.  And then she rubbed in a liberal amount of
Jergen's lotion to soothe my skin.  I was as smooth and as
bare as when I'd been when I was 11.  I went inside and looked in the
mirror.  "So very sexy," I thought.  I hoped Jim felt the same when he
saw me.

Sara came in while I was staring at myself in the mirror.  "What do
you think," she asked?  There was a slight note of uncertainty in her
voice.

I looked over at her and said, "I think it's great!  I love the way I
look.  But you sounded tentative when you asked?  Is that any way to
question your slave?"

Sara sighed.  "You may be my slave and I may beat your ass from time
to time, but I care about you.  I want you to be happy.  In fact, your
happiness is the most important thing to me."  I was impressed by her
obvious sincerity and I walked over and dropped to my knees in front
of her.  She ran her hand through my hair and I sighed with pleasure.
Then I reached and took her hand in mine and kissed it. "Sara, I'll be
your slave for as long as you want me.  It's amazing,
but in only two days you've become one of the most important people in
my life."

Then she cuffed me on the shoulder and told me to go take a shower. We
were going out to dinner and then dancing.  I glanced at her in alarm
and she grinned.  "Don't worry, I'm taking you to this quiet little
lesbian club across the river."

I showered and shaved my legs.  Then Sara showered and we took turns
drying each other's hair.  Mine took about 2 minutes.  Hers maybe 3.
Then we chose our outfits for the evening.  She had to run out to the
garage and get some clothes out of her van.  She wore a little green
dress almost the same shade as her eyes.  Black patterned stockings -
thigh highs, black heels.  A jade necklace and matching earrings.  She
looked stunning when she was finished.  

I agonized and finally chose a little black sleeveless dress.  I was
going to wear black stockings, but Sara insisted that I wear white
thigh highs.  A sexy pair of thong-style panties in white silk and a
pair of black pumps completed my outfit.  Jewelery was limited to a
single strand of artifical pearls and matching earrings.

I called my mom and talked to her for a while, then 'talked' to Sarah.
I told mom to call me on the cell phone if she needed me and she told
me that she'd raised children herself and hadn't forgotten how it
went.  I took the hint and told her I'd call in the morning.

The restaurant where we ate was one of the best in the city.  Very
hard to get reservations, but Sara knew someone and we were welcomed
warmly.  Dinner was superb and the wine was perfect.  I had a filet
and Sara had prime rib.  We chatted and giggled like a couple of
college girls.  Then, about halfway through dinner, she leaned over
and said, "I want you to go to the ladies room.  Remove your panties
and then walk back her holding them in your left hand.  Then sit down
and hand them across the table to me.  Don't attempt to hide them, but
don't call attention to yourself either."  I hesitated and she told me
I would take 5 strokes on my bare ass in the parking lot as
punishment.  I got to my feet and carefully placed my napkin on my
chair.  I walked to the ladies room and went into the end stall.  I
lifted my skirt and pushed my panties down and stepped out of them.
Then I used the toilet.  I took my time washing my hands.  Then,
holding my panties so they dangled from my left hand, I walked back to
the table.  My face was buring and I was sure that everyone was
looking at me.  Sara told me later that only one couple appeared to
notice.  I resumed my seat and handed my panties across to Sara.  It
was the most humiliating, and most exciting thing I'd ever done.

Later, when we left, she opened her purse and took out a little
leather quirt.  She made me bend over between the van and the next car
and lift my dress above my waist.  Then she gave me 5 hard strokes
across my buttocks.  I bit my lip to keep from screaming as she
whipped me.  When she was done she rubbed my buttocks for a moment and
then allowed me to straighten up and slide my dress down.  I was
crying, tears running down my cheeks, and she lifted herself on her
toes and kissed me.  Then we got into the van and left.  She had me
lift my dress so that my bare buttocks were in contact with the
leather seat.  "Sit that way from now on when we're alone."

She took me to the 'Evergreen' a quiet lesbian bar across the river.
It wasn't busy that night and I was thankful for that later on.  We
sat in a booth in the back of the room, Sara facing the front of the
bar, and ordered drinks.   White wine for me, seltzer with a twist of
lemon for her.  "I have to drive," she said by way of explanation.
The barmaid was cute, a slim blonde who looked like a college girl.

After she took our order, Sara excused herself and went up to talk to
the bartender, a tough-looking woman in her late thirties or early
forties.  After some back-and-forth, Sara pushed a couple of bills
across the bar and the bartender nodded agreement.  I asked Sara what
that was all about and she said, "Five in the parking lot later.  You
need to learn some manners."  

I stared down at my hands and nodded.  "Yes, Sara, I'll try."

Our drinks were served and Sara toasted our relationship.  Then she
called the barmaid over and handed her some change for the jukebox.
After the girl left, Sara leaned across and said, "As soon as the
music starts I want you to get up and dance.  Kick your shoes off
first.  Then get up and dance on top of that table over there."  She
pointed to a large round table in the middle of the room.

I looked at her in shock, but that wasn't all.  "Take your dress off
too.  You're going to dance in your thigh highs." 

"Sara, please....."

She shook her head.  "Ten in the parking lot."

I stared at her, tears in my eyes.  "Yes, Sara, I'll do as you say."

The music stared and I gave her a last appealing glance.  She lifted
her chin and said, "Dance slave."  I kicked off my shoes and stood up,
unzipping my dress as I slipped out of the booth.  Then I stooped,
grabbed the hem, and pulled it off over my head in one smooth motion.
I walked to the table, climbed up using a chair as a step, and started
dancing.  My mind was whirling - here I was, a respectable married
woman, dancing nude in a lez bar.  Well, almost nude.  But having the
white thigh highs on somehow made it more humiliating than if I'd been
totally nude.

The music seemed to go on and on.  After each number I glanced over at
Sara with a silent appeal.  Each time she smiled and waved me on. I
danced and danced, finally losing myself in the music.  Sweat rolled
off me and several women gathered around, clapping with the music and
making appreciative comments.  There was an occasional whistle too.
Sara kept me dancing for what seemed like hours, but actually it was
only 45 minutes.

When the music finally stopped I was stunned.  I glanced at Sara and
she nodded permission for me to get down.  The blonde barmaid met me
with a towel as I stepped down from the chair.  She smiled and said,
"You were fantastic!"  She looked me over as I dried my shoulders and
arms and whispered, "You've got a great body!  I wish my breasts were
as nice!"  I smiled and thanked her, then made my way back to the
booth.  I stood there, drying myself off, while Sara sipped her
seltzer and watched quietly.

I realized I couldn't put my dress back on or I'd ruin it.  Sara went
out to the van and returned with a large t-shirt she used as a
nightdress.  I slipped it on and then sat an removed my stockings. The
women in the bar clapped as we walked to the door.  I blushed and
nodded.  We went outside.  I was carrying my dress, shoes, and
stockings.  We walked to the van and Sara opened the door.  I put
everything inside on the back seat.  Then she took out her little
quirt.  "Take the t-shirt off and stand with your hands clasped behind
your neck."

I obeyed instantly.  I was standing there, staring across the parking
lot, when the blonde barmaid appeared.  She had a slim sheath of bills
in her hand.  Her eyes widened when she saw me standing there nude.
Sara asked her what she wanted.  She explained that some of the women
had given her money to give me.  A tip.  Sara told her that she could
keep it.  She nodded.  "Thank you.  What are you doing to her?" Sara
told her that I was being punished for not obeying as I should. The
girl nodded and asked if she could watch.  Sara glanced at her and
asked, "Would you like to punish her?"  The girl's eyes widened and
she nodded.  I moaned, "Please, Sara, no...."  Sara glanced at me.
"Twenty."  I bit my lip and remained silent.

Sara handed the girl the quirt and told her to give me twenty strokes,
hard strokes, between my upper thighs and my shoulder blades. The girl
took the quirt and laid it on with a heavy hand.  After two, Sara held
up her hand to stop her.  "Gag?"  I nodded and she gagged me with a
strip of duct tape she ripped off a roll she kept in the van. Then the
girl whipped me hard while I screamed into the gag.  After it was
over, Sara ripped the duct tape off and snapped her fingers.  I
dropped to my knees, sobbing, and thanked the girl for whipping me.
She smiled and whispered, "I loved doing it.  I'd love to do it
again."  Sara took her elbow and walked her a short distance away.
They chatted for a moment and Sara wrote something down.  Her name and
phone number I found out later.  Then Sara returned and allowed me to
crawl into the front seat and crouch on the floor.  I wasn't allowed
to put on any clothes.

A Walk In The Park - III

The drive home seemed endless, but didn't take more than 20 minutes.
I was terrified that we'd be stopped and I'd be discovered - crouched
nude on the floor on the passenger side.  Later, when I mentioned my
fear to Sara she nodded and said, "You're right, that was an
inexcusable risk.  It won't happen again."

Jim called shortly after we got home and we talked for a long time. I
was sitting at Sara's feet, talking on the cell phone while she ran
her fingers throught my hair.  I told Jim about my hair, but said I
had another surprise for him when he got home.  Then I changed the
subject and told him I'd met a photographer named Sara who wanted to
renovate and lease the apartment over the garage.  He shifted into
accountant mode and questioned me about what had taken place.

   He was pleased when I told him she'd pay $1,000 a month on a 1 year
lease.  Even more pleased when I told him she'd renovate the place and
all we had to do was pay for materials and a plumber.   He said he
wanted to see estimates and I told him she'd have them the next day.
He told me to call our lawyer and get a lease drawn up, plus an
agreement about the renovation.  Then he asked me about her.  I
grinned at Sara and winked.  "Well," I began, "She's a cute little
redhead with big green eyes and freckles.  Very good photographer -
she's shown me some of her work."  I muted the phone and whispered,
"He loves redheads."

   I listened for a moment.  "Yes, I told her she could have one stall
in the garage and use of the pool.  She agreed to clean it a couple of
times a week."  (He hates to clean the pool)  "She swam with me today.
Well, Jim, you'll just have to see for yourself.  I think she looked
cute."  I rolled my eyes and Sara giggled.  We chatted for a while
longer and then he told me he'd be home late the following afternoon.
I told him I'd have the estimate and would arrange for Sara to be
there so he could meet her.

   After I hung up, Sara collared me and put leather cuffs on my
wrists and ankles.  I spent an hour that night on the floor of my
bedroom.  On my belly, hands cuffed behind me, ankles cuffed together.
A butt plug in my ass and a penis gag in my mouth.  Sara watched
television and gave me an occasional stroke with the quirt.  She
assured me that the red marks would disappear by the next afternoon.
Finally, she released me and took me to bed.  The sex was fantastic!

   The next morning I was up at 6:00 a.m.  Sara woke up while I was in
the shower and joined me.  I shampooed her hair, washed her from head
to foot, and then dried her with gentle pats using my newest bath
towels.  I blow dried her hair for her and brushed it for 15 minutes.
Then, while she was dressing, I hurried downstairs to pour her a cup
of coffee (automatic coffeemaker, set up every night because Jim is up
VERY early and likes his coffee).  When I brought the coffee into the
bedroom, Sara was still nude.  She sat on the edge of the bed and I
dropped to my knees and presented her with the cup.  She sighed
appreciatively as she sipped.  I leaned forward and kissed her knees.
Then I dropped down onto my back and lifted her feet onto my belly.
She leaned over and smiled at me.  "You're the perfect slave!"

   Sara allowed me to masturbate while she watched.  Then we were both
rushing to get dressed.  I had to go to my mom's house and pick up
Sarah before mom decided I'd abandoned her.  Sara had to get busy and
make some measurements and then start hitting Home Depot and the like
to price materials.  It was a busy day for both of us.

   My mom was glad to see me and I could tell that Sarah had given her
a workout.  Of course mom picked up on the fact that I wasn't wearing
a bra and made a couple of snide remarks.  She assumed that Jim was
behind it and of course I did nothing to change her assumption.  We
chatted as we got Sarah ready to travel and I found myself wondering
what would happen if I came right out and said, "Oh, by the way mom,
it wasn't Jim who got me to go braless.  It was this woman I met the
other day.  She's introduced me to lesbian sex and bondage.  Mom, I'm
her slave and I love it."  Of course mom noticed the little smile and
asked what I was smiling about.  I shook my head, "Nothing mom, just
thinking about this woman I saw in the park."

   Then Sarah and I were out and on the road home.  She's always glad
to go to grandma's but she's like me - glad to leave again.  We went
home and I took her with me from room to room as I cleaned house.  I
changed into shorts and one of Jim's old undershirts before I started.
After a few minutes I stopped and cut the shirt off just below my
breasts.  I felt very sexy in it.  The deep armholes did little to
conceal my breasts.  Sara was turning me into a real exhibitionist and
I was loving it.  I knew Jim would too.  He called while I was
cleaning the kitchen and told me he wouldn't be home until at least 7
p.m.  I told him I expected that Sara would be back by then and we
could go over her estimate. 

   Sarah went down for her nap shortly after Jim's call and I stripped
my clothes off and washed the kitchen floor on my hands and knees.
Then, still nude, I cleaned all of the bathrooms.  When I heard Sarah
wake from her nap I threw my clothes back on and took her for a walk.
While we were walking I decided to have steaks for supper - done on
the grill.  Sarah would be sleepy by the time Jim got home.  I knew
he'd spend some time with her and that would allow me to grill the
steaks and get everything ready.  I called the Wine Basket, a local
liquor store that delivers, and had them deliver two bottles of
Woodbridge Blush Chardonnay - I know, it doesn't go with steak but we
like the wine.

   Sara pulled in at 5:30, hot and sweaty from a day of frantic
activity.  We took Sarah out on the deck and Sara bounced her on her
knee while I went in and got her a cold bottle of Rolling Rock.  And
one for myself.  Sara took a long drink and then I asked her how her
day had gone.  She grinned and told me that it had been hot and
tiring, but worth it.  She'd met some helpful people and had a pretty
good idea of what it would cost to do over the apartment.  She told me
that the materials would cost roughly $12,000 and the plumber would be
about $2,500.  She was a little surprised when I said, "Let's double
both numbers to be safe."  Then we shook on it and I told her that Jim
would be pleased.

   She nodded.  "Got any plans for tonight?"

   It was my turn to grin.  "I'm going to fuck his brains out!"

   Sara tipped her glass in salute and said, "Good for you.  You know
that I never intended to come between you and Jim."

   "Yes, I know that.  In fact, he has you to thank for waking my
libido again."  And I tipped my glass in salute.

   Sara said she'd bring a sleeping bag up to the apartment and spend
the night there.  I told her she could have the guest room but she
said, "Maybe tomorrow night, not tonight.  You need privacy."  I had
to agree with her on that.  We finished our beer and I went into the
house while Sara headed for her van to go shopping for a sleeping bag.

   I took another shower and put on a white terrycloth robe, a short
one that just covers my butt.  I left my hair wet, grabbed Sarah out
of her crib, and went down to check on the potatoes I'd put in the
oven earlier.  As I passed the full-length mirror at the end of the
upstairs hall I noticed how nicely the white robe contrasted with my
tan.  I knew Jim would like it.

   I heard a car door as I was closing the oven door.  A minute later
Jim opened the front door and set his bag and briefcase down in the
hall.  I stepped into the hall from the kitchen with Sarah balanced on
my hip and saw his eyes widen as he realized what I was wearing.  He
hugged us, making faces at Sarah and laughing at her response.  I set
Sarah down and gave him a big hug.  Then I put my chin on his shoulder
and whispered, "I want you to fuck my brains out later."

   He stepped back and gave me a long, searching look.  Then he smiled
and said, "Count on it!  What's for dinner?"  I swatted him and
suggested that he take his daughter and amuse her for a while or there
might be no dinner.  He scooped Sarah up in one arm and ran his other
hand up under my robe.  He chuckled as his hand moved over my bare
bottom.  "Oh my, no panties, just like the big girls!"  I slapped at
his arm and danced away, escaping into the kitchen while he and Sarah
headed for the livingroom to play.

   I went out onto the deck and fired up the gas grill.  Then I went
inside to start a salad while the grill heated up.  I opened one of
the bottles of wine and poured two glasses, bringing one into the
livingroom for Jim.  Then it was back to 'drudring' in the kitchen.  I
pulled the steaks out and seasoned them.  The grill was hot when I
went back, so I used a wire brush on the cooking surface and then put
the steaks on.  For the next few minutes I divided my time between the
grill, the salad, and checking the oven to see if the baked potatoes
were ready.

   Everything came together at the right time, no small accomplishment
considering my limited ablity in the kitchen (I hate to cook) and I
called Jim as I ferried things out to the patio table.  Jim came in
with Sara and brought carriage out for me and put her in it.  Then we
sat down to eat.  Sara, with perfect timing, pulled into the driveway
just as Jim was raising his glass in a toast to the coming evening.
Sara was toting a large bag as she started up the outside stairs to
the apartment.  I was inclined to let her go, but Jim suggested that I
invite her over for a drink at least.

   I called to her and she waved and continued on up the stairs.  I
glanced at Jim and shrugged.  He suggested I go and talk to her.  I
hesitated, but I could tell that he wanted to meet her so I got up and
ran down the stairs and across the grass.  The door was open when I
got to the top of the stairs and Sara was sweeping with an old broom
she'd found.  She glanced up with a surprised look.  "What are you
doing here?  Go and have fun with your husband."

   "He wants to meet you.  He's shifting into 'accountant' mode and I
thought I'd better humor him.  Please come and meet him and have a
glass of wine."

   She cocked her head to one side and studied me for a moment.  "Do
you really want me to come?"

   I grinned.  "No, but come anyway."

   She grinned back at me.  "I can't resist when you sweet-talk me
like that."

   We walked back to the house and I introduced them.  Jim shook her
hand and I could tell that he liked her.  I glanced back and forth as
they chatted.  It was hard to tell how Sara felt.  We sat down and
Sara accepted a glass of wine.  She glanced at my plate as she took
her first sip and I realized that she probably hadn't eaten anything.
I insisted that she share my steak and she gave in after some
half-hearted protests.

   I got her a plate and gave her half of my dinner.  Let me tell you,
it was an interesting meal with my husband and my lesbian lover
sitting on either side of me!  What really got me going was the way
they hit it off.  Sara had taken some accounting courses in college
and they soon lost me as they got into investment strategies and
market trends and the like.  I was daydreaming when I felt a touch on
my left knee.  Jim didn't miss a word as he caressed my knee and then
slid his hand up my bare thigh.  Neither did Sara when she ran her
toes up my right calf.  I glanced back and forth, they were both
seemingly intent on their conversation, but both of them were feeling
me up!  I did the only thing I could think of and got up to get
another bottle of wine.  As I opened the door I glanced back.  They
were deep in conversation and didn't seem to notice that I was gone!
Talk about a strange evening!

   After dinner, while Jim put Sarah to bed, Sara helped me clear the
table and put the dishes in the dishwasher.  Then she left and I went
upstairs to see my husband.  When he finished with Sarah he found me
waiting in the hall.  Nude.  I dropped to my knees as he approached
and unzipped his pants.  He was ready.  I took his cock into my mouth
and moaned with pleasure as I ran my tongue over it.  I've always
loved sucking a nice hard cock.  Jim ran his hands through my hair and
sighed as I sucked him.  "Oh shit, Hannah.  You are soooo good.  Suck
it babe!  Please suck it!  Take it all in."  And I did.  He's about 7"
when he's hard and I've learned how to take the whole thing in my
mouth without gagging.  Then he started moving his hips, literally
fucking me in the mouth.  God, I loved it! 

                                 End of Part III

Kathryn and Sara (Jym) - f/f, b/d

Claire - hope you enjoy this.

   My name is Kathryn Lassiter and I'm thirty-four years old.  I'm asuccessful
attorney, a partner in a solid mid-sized law firm locatedin a wealthy town in
New England.  I'm a tall, athletic woman withlight brown hair, hazel/green eyes,
and a nice figure.  I'm notbeautiful, but I am attractive, especially in the
summer when I have anice tan and my hair has blonde streaks from the sun.  My
legs are mybest feature - long and sleek and shapely.

   My life was turned upside down a year ago when my husband and twochildren
were killed in an automobile accident.  I was devastated.  Mylife was over as
far as I was concerned.  I got through the funeraland all rest on a kind of
automatic pilot - I was there, andinteracted with people, but it wasn't really
me.  Afterward, when itwas all over, and I was alone at last, I broke down.

   I mean I really broke down.  Not a classic nervous breakdown.  Ijust stopped. 
Stopped caring, stopped doing, stopped living.  Idrank.  A lot.  I still went to
the office everyday but I didn't getmuch done.  My partners were tolerant at
first but their tolerancedidn't last that long.  They warned me that I'd have to
snap out of myfunk and start pulling my weight, but I didn't pay any attention.

   Then I got a second warning - my secretary, who'd been with me foryears, was
taken away and replaced with a young woman from thesecretarial pool.  Sara had
just turned 25 at the time and wasconsidered a misfit by everyone at the firm -
she was small and slim,her hair was cropped extemely short and had a purple
streak in it, andshe was obviously gay.  The fact that she was an excellent
legalsecretary with a college degree and was going to law school hadnothing to
do with everyone's opinion of her.  She was different, anin-your-face lesbian
activist and the partners, myself included whenI'd cared, wanted her out.

   She came to work for me on a Wednesday and by Friday she wasobviously
disgusted with me.  When I left the office early she wassitting at her desk and
didn't even look up when I walked past.  Shemust have swung into action as soon
as I was gone and she must havedone some real wheeling and dealing.

   I didn't know anything about it until later that evening when sheshowed up at
my front door.  I was working on my third martini andfeeling no pain.  I was
astonished to see her and demanded to knowwhat she wanted.  She pushed past me
and told me to close the door."We have to talk.  Now.  And decide our futures."

   We stood there in the hall, facing each other at fairly closerange.  I asked
her what she meant by 'our futures' and she made aface.  "Haven't you figured it
out yet?  They put me with you becausethey want to get rid of both of us.  They
couldn't dump me while I wasin the pool, but now that I'm working for you they
can let me go whenthey dump your ass.  I won't be needed anymore.  It's the
perfectsolution."

   She was right.  I should have seen it right away, but I hadn't beenthinking
about much except drinking.  "What do you plan to do aboutit?  I think they can
do pretty much what they want, all thingsconsidered."  Normally I would have
been the one to make the plans,but.....

   Sara grinned.  I know a few things and I have a friend or two downthere.  I
did some talking this afternoon and made a deal with them.I get until the day
after Labor Day, just over six weeks, to get youback into shape.  If I do, we
both have a job.  If I don't, I agreedthat we'd both go quietly." 

   I stared at her in shock.  "What gave you the right...."  Then Istopped.  She
was fighing for her job too and had every right to makethe best deal she could. 
I started again.  "So, what are you going todo?"

   "It's what we're going to do, you're in this too.  I'm moving inwith your for
the duration and get you back into shape.  Anyobjections?"  She leaned back
against the wall with her arms foldedacross her chest and waited for me to
speak.

   I hesitated for a moment, trying to marshall my thoughts.  Mythinking was
three-martini fuzzy.  "I think you should leave and leaveme alone."  Lame, but
the best I could come up with at the moment.

   She shook her head.  "No, I'm not leaving.  And you're going to doexactly
what I say."  As she spoke, she straightened up and her handflicked out and she
slapped me across the face, hard.  I reeled backagainst the wall and rubbed my
cheek.  "Any questions," she demanded?Before I could speak she slapped me again. 
Very hard.  "No?  Good.Now lets get my stuff out of the car."

   She ushered me outside and we got her things from her car.  Twosuitcases, a
backpack, and several boxes of books.  We took themupstairs and put them in the
guest bedroom.  Then she made me give hera complete tour of the house and
grounds.  My husband and I hadpurchased the house with money inherited from my
grandmother.  It's abig colonial (12 rooms) set on 3.5 acres land in a secluded
suburbanlocation.  No houses closer that 200 yards and none within view orwith a
view onto our property.

   We did a lot of work on the place when we first bought it - had apool put in
with a combination pool-house and gym next to it.  Didsome extensive
landscaping, but left almost 3/4 of an acre, down itthe back, covered with trees
and bushes.  The front and side yardswere landscaped and planted extensively
(and expensively).

   Sara was impressed even though I had let things go - the pool wasdirty, the
yard was overgrown and there was a lot of work to be done.When we got back
inside Sara poured me a drink and said, "Enjoy it.This is your last one. 
Tomorrow we start working your ass back intoshape."  I downed the drink eagerly
and reached for the bottle.  Shebackhanded me across the face and snarled, "That
was your last drink.Now go to bed."

   I stumbled upstairs and fell asleep immediately.  She dragged meout of bed at
5:30 the next morning.  Literally dragged me out of bedand made me take a cold
shower.  Then she made me get into my sweatsand run with her.  We only managed a
half-mile, but she felt it was astart.  Back at the house we had breakfast
(coffee only for me) andthen both took showers and got dressed.

   We spent the morning making the rounds, buying things that Sarafelt were
needed.  A stop at the hardware store resulted in thepurchase of 50' of heavy
chain, several padlocks, a couple of heavybrush knives, and some other tools. 
Then we stopped at a beautyparlor owned by a friend of Sara's.  We got there
early, before itopened, so there was nobody to witness Sara slapping me
intosubmission so that her friend could crop my hair until it was nolonger than
1/2" anywhere on my head.  It completely changed the way Ilooked.  She also had
me waxed - a painful process that left me smoothand bare below the waist.

   When we arrived back at the house, Sara went into the bathroom andI stared
into the hall mirror for five minutes, unable to believe howdifferent I looked
with my hair cropped.  Then Sara appeared anddragged me upstairs to my bedroom. 
She told me that we were going toget started and I had better do as I was told. 
Then she told me totake my clothes off.  I refused.  She backhanded me across
the faceand then pinned me against the wall.  "Listen, bitch, and listen
good!I'm a tough dyke and I'm into heavy S/m - I don't mind hurting you.Do as
your told or I will.  Understand?"

   I nodded and she stepped back.  I took a deep breath and thenremoved my
clothes.  After I started to unbutton my top, she turnedand went over to my
closet.  She rummaged around and came out with apair of work boots that I hadn't
worn in months.  Then she found apair of cotton socks in my dresser.  When I
finished undressing, shetossed the socks to me and told me to put them on.  She
informed methat the socks and workboots were the only garments I was allowed
towear.  Then she hesitated and said, "You need a sweatband, findsomething to
put around your forehead to keep the sweat out of youreyes."  I found an old red
bandana that my husband had used for thesame purpose and put it on.

   Then we started working.  First we stripped the bed and got all thetowels and
made a big pile of laundry.  I took the first load downwhile Sara cleaned the
master bath.  Then I went back and helped her.We spent the rest of the morning
cleaning the upstairs.  It wasn'tthat big a job because I had just been using
the master bedroom andbathroom.  It was mostly a matter of dusting and
vacuuming.

   Then we had lunch.  I had to fix it and serve it out on the backpatio.  When
I went to sit down Sara shook her head and said, "No."Then I got my next lesson. 
I was a non-person, not allowed to sit atthe table with her.  She made me take
my lunch and sit on the steps toeat.  After lunch we cleaned the downstairs. 
That took the entireafternoon and left me exhausted.  Whenever I faltered Sara
drove meback to work with a slap.  After the second incident she went
upstairsand returning with a little leather quirt hanging from her belt.  Itook
that across the ass a couple of times and it hurt.  I workedhard.

   I had to cook and serve supper, again on the patio.  Then Sara wentupstairs
while I did the dishes.  When she returned she brought thechain, the locks, a
slim metal collar and some heavy eyebolts.  Thenshe went down to the cellar and
returned with my husband's cordlessdrill.  She drilled a hole high in the wall
at one back corner of thepool house and screwed one of the eyebolts in, using a
screwdriverslipped through the eye for leverage.  Then she attached one end
ofthe chain, locking it with on the the padlocks.

   When that was done she came over and handed me the metal collar.She told me
to put it on and slapped me when I refused.  I was tiredof being slapped and
lunged for her.  That was a big mistake.  Shepunched me in the belly and used
the quirt on me as I knelt on thegrass, holding my belly and gasping for breath. 
I screamed and beggedher to stop.  She did, but not until I had taken five or
six hard cutsacross my back.  I put the collar on and she secured it with
anotherof the padlocks.  Finally, the chain was locked to a ring set in theback
of the collar.

   Fifty feet of chair allowed me to move around a sizeable area ofthe yard near
the pool.  It also allowed me to come around to thefront of the poolhouse and
get inside.  But only just a few feetinside.  Sara informed me that I would
spend my nights chained in theyard until I was a person again.  I protested. 
"What about a bed?What about a toilet?  This is inhuman!  You can't do this to
me!"

   She grinned.  "I can and I am.  You can sleep on the bare floor inthe
poolhouse.  Any more out of you and I'll shorten the chain so youhave to stay
outside all night.  And I'll get you a bucket to use whenyou have to go to the
bathroom.  Any questions?"  I started to open mymouth and she lashed out with
the quirt, catching me across the hip.I screamed in pain and she grinned. 
"Good, if there are no questionthen I'm going in."  And she did.

   I spent a cold, miserable night huddled on the floor of thepoolhouse.  The
next morning I was outside early, waiting for Sara tocome and release me.  She
came out about six a.m. with a cup of coffeein one hand and a slice of toast in
the other.  She nodded to me andsat down of the steps.  "Aren't you going to
release me," I asked?

   "Yes, later, after I've showered and gotten dressed."  Shecontinued to sip
her coffee and take bites of toast.

   "Well, how about me?  Don't I get any coffee?"

   She glanced at me and said, "Beg.  On your knees."

   "Never!"

   She grinned.  "Suit yourself.  It's no skin off my nose.  When I'mfinished
we'll get to work on the pool."

   I held out for a couple of minutes.  The I moved as close to thesteps as I
could and dropped to my knees.  "Please, may I have a cupof coffee?  Please!"

   Sara stood up.  "That's better.  I'll be back in a moment."  Shereturned a
couple of minutes later with a cup of coffee and a slice ofbuttered toast.  She
handed them to me and the returned to sit on thesteps.  I took a sip of coffee
and nothing had ever tasted sowonderful!  The toast disappeared quickly and I
asked for another butSara shook her head.  I had to be content with the coffee.

   A few minutes later Sara put her cup down and pulled a set of keysout of her
pocket.  She unlocked the chain from my collar and told meto follow her.  She
walked into the house and paused just inside thedoor while I stopped and removed
my boots.  Then, wearing just mywhite cotton socks, I followed her upstairs to
the master bathroom.

   She allowed me to shower and brush my teeth.  Then she sent me toget a clean
pair of socks.  When I returned, she was just steppinginto the shower.  I was
surprised at how beautiful her slim, boyishbody was without closes.  Sara's not
beautiful, but she is attractiveand without clothes she looked very sexy.  Her
small round breastswere tipped with little pink nipples.  Her belly was flat and
herpubic area was smooth and bare.  Her slim legs were very pretty,especially
her firm sleek thighs.

   As she stepped into the shower she glanced back at me and smiled.Then she
snapped her fingers and said, "Kneel".  I obeyedinstinctively and remained on my
knees while she showered and driedoff.  She told me to stay where I was when she
left the bathroom toget dressed.  When she returned she was wearing jeans and a
sleevelessdenim workshirt.  She snapped her fingers and said, "Let's get
going.We've got lots to do today."  As I followed her down the hall Inoticed
that the leather quirt was hanging from her right wrist.  Ishivered, remembering
what it had felt like when she used it on me theday before.

   The last thing we'd done the night before was to open the drain onthe pool in
anticipation of cleaning it in the morning.  When we gotoutside we found that
most of the water had drained out, leaving a fewpuddles of scummy water at the
bottom of the pool.  Cleaning the poolinvolved the use of a harsh chemical
cleaner and Sara decided to letme put on some clothes.  She came in with me
because she decided asleeveless shirt wasn't good for her to wear.  I put on a
pair ofjeans and a long-sleeved denim jacket.  Nothing else - no underwear,no
bra.  Sara changed into a sweatshirt and we went back outside.

   We worked liked dogs.  Sara didn't let me slack off a bit and I wasexhausted
by noontime.  She worked just as hard, but I still resentedher when she drove me
on with the quirt.  After a short break forlunch we went back to work and were
ready to refill the pool by 5 p.m.I did the final rinsing with the garden hose
after removing everythingbut the metal collar.  When I was done and Sara had
inspected it, westarted filling it again.  Then we showered and had supper. 
Aftersupper I was chained in the yard again.

   The pool was only half-filled by the next morning and Sara wasdisappointed. 
I assured her that it would be filled by that night andwe could add the
necessary chemicals and be swimming late the nextday.  We spent the day working
in the yard.  Sara made me keep a goodcoating of SPF15 suntan lotion on at all
times.  She spread it over myback for me and I was surprised at how gentle she
was.  She wasn'tgentle when she thought I wasn't working hard enough and I felt
thequirt several times that day.  And the next.  And the day after that.We
worked hard with occasional breaks for a cooling swim.  We bothswam nude.

   By the end of the first week the yard was in good shape.  I wassurprised to
realize how much better I was feeling.  On Friday night Itook a long look in the
mirror and saw that my muscles were firming upagain and I looked fitter.  The
scales confirmed that I had lost eightof the twenty-two pounds I'd put on while
I was drinking.  I had somescratches and bruises and a few welts from the quirt,
but I was alsotanned and looking better.

   With the yard in good shape, Sara began working me in the gym.  Shealso made
me swim countless laps in the pool.  Some things were stillhard to handle. 
Sleeping in the pool house on the bare floor was one.Peeing in front of Sara was
still embarassing.  That first night, whenshe'd brought out the pail for me to
use I'd been embarassed at thethought of using it.  But I did.  She had me empty
it each morning andevening.  But that first day we worked in the yard, when I
had to peeI started to walk back to use the pail.  Sara shook her head when
Iexplained where I was going.  "No, it's a waste of time.  Squat andpee here."

   "You're joking, aren't you?"  She wasn't.  I squatted and looked upat her
with tears in my eyes.  "Why are you humiliating me like this?"

   She shrugged.  "I'm going to tear you down and build you back up.You have to
lose your inhibitions and your bad habits before you canheal."  That first time
was hard, but it got easier.  I was stillembarassed, but I was getting used to
it.

   At the end of the second week I found I'd lost another ten pounds.I was
getting lean and fit.  My muscle tone was back.  I was verynicely tanned.  Sara
rewarded me with dinner at a restaurant.  I worea dress, thigh highs, and heels. 
Underwear and a bra.  It was thefirst time in ten days that I had worn a stitch
of clothing.  Dinnerwas wonderful.  We talked about law school, the firm and the
variouspartners, the work we'd been doing.  Sara's plans for the future.  Alot
of things.  After we left, Sara drove to the beach and we boughtice cream cones
from a vendor and watched the moon on the water. 

   As we ate our ice cream and chatted, Sara glanced at me from timeto time. 
Finally, she asked me if something was wrong.  I laughed andsaid, "You'll think
it's really stupid."

   She shook her head and said, "No, I won't.  Go ahead and tell me."

   I felt myself blushing as I whispered, "It feels strange to bewearing
clothes.  Uncomfortable."

   She smiled and glanced around.  It was after 10 p.m. and the beachwas
deserted.  The ice cream truck was long gone.  "What do you wantto do?"

   I hesitated.  "May I take my clothes off?"  She nodded and Iquickly stripped
and tossed everything into the car.  Then I sighed.I felt better wearing nothing
but the collar.  Then I asked Sara aboutwhat she'd said about being a dyke and
being heavily in S/m.

   She shrugged.  "No much to tell.  I'm a dominant lesbian.  I liketo enslave
my lovers and dominate them completely.  Break them andretrain them the way I
want them."

   I shivered.  "Are you going to break me?  Enslave me?"

   She stared at the water in silence and I thought she wasn't goingto answer. 
Finally she asked me if that's what I wanted.

   It was my turn to hesitate.  "I'm not sure.  I hate the pain whenyou use the
quirt on me, but I get excited when I think about itlater.  I'm wet now just
talking about it."  I blushed and shechuckled.

   She said it was time to go and we got into the car.  As she startedit up she
glanced over at me and said, "I'll think about it."  She wassilent the entire
way home.  That night, as I huddled on the floor ofthe poolhouse, she opened the
door and tossed me a light blanket andleft without saying a word.

   The next day, and every day for the next two weeks, we clearedbrush in the
morning and worked out in the gym and pool in the heat ofthe afternoon.  We
worked even if it rained.  By the end of the fourthweek I was fitter than I had
ever been.  My weight was down to 127pounds (I'm 5'10") and I looked great. 
Sara took my measurements -35-26-34.  I'd lost 2 inches off my waist, 2.5 off my
hips, and aninch from my bustline.  Of course I was down from a c-cup to a
b-cupbut that didn't bother me.  My hair was shot through and through withblonde
streaks from being outside most of the time.

   That night, after supper, Sara went upstairs and didn't come downuntil long
after I'd finished the dishes.  I was waiting outside forher, expecting her to
lock the chain to my collar as usual.  When shecame out, she took a key out of
her pocket and unlocked the collar.  Iwas stunned and asked her what was going
on.

   "I'm leaving.  You're ready to to back to work.  You don't need meanymore. 
I'm all packed.  Please help me bring my stuff out to mycar."  She turned away
and walked back up the steps.  I followed,stunned and silent.  We brought
everything out to her car and I stoodthere and watched her turn the car and
drive down the driveway.

   I should have been happy and I was - happy that I was off the boozeand back
in shape, ready to go back to work.  I wasn't sure how I feltabout Sara leaving. 
I went back in and locked the front door behindme.  I walked through the house -
it was immaculate, Sara wouldn'ttolerate anything less.  I rubbed my right
buttock where she'd caughtme with the quirt not two hours previously.  I had a
good welt there,but I'd deserved it.  I was shocked to realize how accepting I
was ofcorporal punishment!

   I walked out the back door and down the steps, glancing around atall the work
we'd done.  I sat on the edge of the pool and dangled myfeet in the water.  I
was still nude and felt no desire to getdressed.  I sat there for quite a while
and after a few minutes Istarted to cry.  I cried for several minutes - I wasn't
sure why I wascrying, but I told myself it was relief that I was now free, but
thatwas a lie.  I was crying because I felt so alone. 

   After I cried myself out I got up and went into the house.  Irummaged around
and found a long lenght of rope in the cellar.  I tookit back outside and found
a good spot where there was a sturdy treelimb at the right height.  I fashioned
a noose and tossed it over thelimb, tying the other end around the trunk of the
tree.  Then I wentand got a stool to stand on.  I climbed up and placed the
noose aroundmy neck. 

   I took a last look around and was about to step off when I heard ascream,
"Nooooooo!"  I glanced around and saw Sara running across thepatio.  She stopped
in front of me and screamed, "Get that fuckin'noose off you dumb bitch!"  I
obeyed and she grabbed my arm and pulledme down off the stool.  Then she undid
the noose and tied my wristswith the rope.  I stood there while she untied the
rope from the treetrunk, pulled it until I was up on the tips of my toes, and
thenretied it.  She left me there and returned a few minutes later withthe quirt
and a ball-gag.

   As she forced the gag into my mouth she called me a stupid,worthless cunt and
told me that she was going to teach me a lesson.She did.  She beat me for almost
an hour while I screamed into thegag.  She started at my shoulders, in back, and
worked her way down tomy heels.  Then she stepped around in front of me and
worked her wayup my body.  By the time she stopped I was drenched with
sweat,covered with welts and hanging limp, the pain in my wrists a minorthing. 
She told me later that I barely twitched when she gave me thelast five across my
tits.

   When she took the gag out I was sobbing in agony.  She lifted mychin until we
were staring into each other's eyes.  "Have you learnedyour lesson?"

   I nodded.  "Yes, please don't hurt me anymore.  Please!  I'll doanything!"

   She untied me and whipped me back to the pool.  I stumbled along,sobbing and
begging for mercy.  When we got to the pool, she forced meto kneel and beg to be
collared again.  "This time it's permanent.You're asking for lifetime slavery! 
Is that what you want?"

   I stared up at her and whispered, "Yes, please.  I want to be yourslave."  I
dropped down onto my belly and licked her feet insubmission.  She let me do it
for a couple of minutes and then orderedme back onto my knees.  She collared me
and I cried with pleasure asshe locked it on.  Then she spreadeagled me on the
fence, my back tothe fence, and gagged me with a length of toweling.  She told
me thatit would muffle my screams, but still allow her to enjoy them.  As
afurther cover, she brought out a portable radio and turned it on.Then she beat
me while I screamed and begged for mercy.

   After a couple of minutes she stopped beating me and fucked me withthe handle
of the quirt.  I didn't orgasm, but it felt good.  She beatme again and then
masturbated me to orgasm.  Then she beat me againfor a couple of minutes before
getting down on her knees to lick mypussy.  I had never been eaten by a woman
before and it was fantastic!I orgasmed twice. 

   That's the way it went for a couple of hours.  Short, hard beatingsfollowed
by great sex.  The following day was more of the same.  Westayed out at the pool
most of the time.  The day passed very slowly.Sun, sex, swimming, and beatings. 
Then, that night, she spreadeagledme on the fence and told me that she was going
to break me.  She did.In twenty savage minutes using a pair of pliers and some
straightpins.  She turned the radio up and I screamed my guts out as shetortured
me, putting needles through my nipples, labia and clit.  Sheknew I was broken
when I begged her to let me be her toilet.  Shepissed in my mouth and I
swallowed every drop.  I was enslaved.

   That night I slept in a bed for the first time in almost fiveweeks.  She put
on a strap-on dildo and fucked my brains out!  It wasfantastic!  I screamed with
pleasure when she put me on my belly andfucked me in the ass!  I had never
allowed my husband to do that and Iwas shocked at how much I enjoyed it.  The
next few days passed in ahaze of sun, sex, and exercise.  We worked at clearing
the back partof the property, swam, fucked, and I learned how to please her with
mytongue, my fingers, and a strap-on dildo.  I learned how to respond tothe most
subtle gestures and unspoken commands.  I learned to be anude lez sex slave.  I
learned to love it.

   On Saturday, with one full week ahead of us, we were content.  Shetook me
downtown and had my hair cropped short and had me waxed again.I was wearing a
white cotton tank top and a very short denim skirt.No underwear, no hosiery, no
bra.  A pair of Dr. Scholls on my feet.I felt comfortable stripping in front of
her friend.  We all chattedwhile she was cutting my hair and waxing me.  I was
nude for the wholething and happy about it.

   Then she took me to a jewelery store run by a young lesbian couple.On the
drive over she stroked my bare thighs and mentioned that shewas going to have me
pierced.  I shivered with fear and whispered,"Where?"

   She shrugged.  "Nipples.  Labia.  Navel.  Clit maybe.  No placevisible.  You
have to work.  I've heard that a tiny stainless steelstud through the base of
your clit will keep you in an almost constantstate of sexual arousal."  She fell
silent for a moment.  "What do youthink, slave?"

   "It scares me, mistress," I whispered, "But if it pleases you thanI am
happy."

   She looked over at me and grinned.  "You learn so fast!"

   As she talked with the women at the jewelry store I wandered aroundand looked
at everything.  Then she snapped her fingers and I shed myclothes without
hesitation.  The younger woman, a cute redhead, cuppedmy tits and ran her thumbs
over my nipples, causing them to hardeninstantly.  I glanced at Sara and
blushed.  She grinned.  The redheadpronounced my nipples perfect for piercing. 
Then I sat on a benchwith my legs spread while they examined my genitals with
gloved hands,chatting with Sara all the while.  They decided to put a ring in
myclitoral hood, two rings in each labia, a stud in the base of my clit,and a
ring in each nipple.

   They numbed my nipples with ice cubes and pierced them first.  Asthey worked,
the redhead head continually assured me that I was doingfine.  I blushed when
she glanced at Sara and asked, "Do you use herasshole much?"  Sara shook her
head, "Not enough, but that willchange."

   Then, in quick succession, they pierced my labia and clitoral hoodand
inserted the selected gold rings.  This time numbing me with aninjection of
Novacaine.  It turned out that the redhead was a doctorand instead of being 23
or 24 as I had guessed, she was 32.  The studin the base of my clit was last and
then I was done.  (Sara was right- it keeps me aroused almost constantly,
something I've had to learnto deal with.)  The rings in my labia each have a 3"
gold chainattached.  The chains hang down and brush my thighs as I walk.  A
realturn-on.  Sara can hang little weights from them if she wishes.  Orheavy
weights to punish me.

   Our next stop was a tattoo artist - again a lesbian.  The word'slave' was
tattoed on my lower belly, just above my slit.  My pubichair will hide it if it
is ever allowed to grow.  Then we went homeand made love.  And worked out.  And
worked on the back of theproperty.

   Finally the big day came.  My return to work.  I wore one of myconservative
gray power suits, a white silk blouse over a white silkcamisole, white
stockings, and black pumps.  I looked stunning.  Myskirt was short, almost six
inches above my knee, showing a lot offirm, sleek thigh.  Of course, the
stockings were thigh highs, I woreno panties, and no bra.  I felt sexier than
ever.  Sara dressed up tooand looked very very nice.

   I got a nice reception and the partners were happy that I was back.With good
reason - I had always been the one to bring in the clients -the 'rainmaker' as
it were.  I got a great deal of pleasurespeculating about what they might think
if they saw me nude - saw thewelts on my ass from the beating I'd received early
that morning, orsaw the rings piercing my body.  Of course, they were happy when
Itold them that Sara would remain as my secretary, but less happy whenI told
them that the firm would pay for her to finish law school andfurnish me with
another assistant to help Sara.

   They would have been stunned to see me bent over my desk afterlunch.  Taking
10 strokes across my bare ass for being sarcastic toSara.  I was back as an
attorney but I was still a slave! 

   THE END?

                                   Summer Intern
                                     (F/f, D/s)

   I was lucky to get the summer intern position at Culpepper and
Smith.  The only reason I got it was the sudden illness of the girl
who'd had it.  It came at the last minute and I was the only one they
could contact to fill in for her.  I was just twenty at the time and
still very much the tomboy, even after two years of college.  An
internship at C&S was a plum job, a ticket to the big time in my field
for an ambitious person.  And I was determined not to blow it.  If I
did good, I'd certainly be invited back again the following summer.

   I got a call on Sunday evening from the woman who'd be my
supervisor for the summer.  She told me to wear jeans and a t-shirt
because we were going to be cleaning files out of an old storage room.
I wasn't thrilled, but I did as I was told.  The work was hot and
dirty and took the best part of the first week.  At the end of the
first day, I asked my supervisor if it would be okay to wear shorts
the next day.  She thought about it for a few moments before saying
that shorts wouldn't be acceptable.  "But," she continued, "You could
wear a denim skirt.  Just not too short."  I thanked her and that's
what I wore the next day.  It was much cooler and it brought some
attention.

   As I said, I'm a tomboy, but a cute tomboy and my legs are my best
feature.  As for the rest, I'm 5'8", 120 pounds, brown hair, brown
eyes, olive/tan complexion.  My hair is short which adds to the boyish
look.  For those who want numbers, mine are 34b-25-34.  My long slim
legs are my best feature and I don't mind showing them off.  In fact,
I enjoy showing them off and I wear my skirts rather short.

   It was still a hellish day in the storage room.  Some of the files
were more than 75 years old and covered with dust.  It was a good
thing not to have allergies.  After lunch, one of the partners came in
and told us that there was an old file she wanted to save for research
purposes.  She gave us the name of the client and the approximate date
and asked us to keep an eye out for it.  As she was talking, I was
crouched next to one of the old storage boxes, checking each file
against a list of files that we'd been told to save.  

   The partner, Jessica Hill, was one of the youngest in the firm's
history and one of the most ambitious according to talk around the
office.  She'd just made partner at the age of thirty and even though
this was only my second day on the job I'd already heard stories about
her.  Curious, I listened to what she was saying and glanced up at her
from time to time.  She was certainly worth looking at - a tall blonde
with a slender, athletic figure and long beautiful legs.

   I haven't mentioned it, but I'd just broken up with my latest
boyfriend.  The relationship had lasted only three months and I was
glad to be out of it.  In my two years at college I'd had five failed
relationships, four with guys and one with a woman.  All of them had
failed for the same basic reason - nobody was willing to supply what I
wanted (and needed), a strong hand to guide me.  And to spank me when
I need it.   
  
   But I noticed that Jessica had postioned herself so she could see
me and she seemed to prolong the conversation longer than strictly
necessary.  I turned slightly, exposing more of my legs, and her eyes
flickered back and forth.  I was nicely tanned even though it was only
the middle of May and I hadn't worn stockings that morning.  The
sandals I'd been wearing were over in the corner, so I was barefooted
too.  My little experiment seemed to indicate that there was some
interest on her part and I found myself getting excited.

   Jessica left after running out of things to say about the file and
we continued working.  Later on in the afternoon my supervisor, Jill,
was summoned to a meeting and I was left to work alone.  Jessica came
in a few minutes after Jill left.  She came over and introduced
herself to me and asked if we'd had any luck finding the file.  I
shook my head and said, "No, ma'am, we haven't"

   She smiled and said, "My name is Jessica, you don't have to call me
ma'am."

   I dipped my head in sort of a mini bow and said, "Yes, ma'am".  I
was trying to create an impression of submissiveness and I was
successful.  To enhance that impression, I went back and crouched
beside the box I was working on, keeping my knees pointed toward
Jessica.  As I crouched, I made sure that my skirt pulled up so that
she got a good look at my smooth sleek thighs.  And I said a silent
prayer of thanks for all the long hours I put in working out and
running.

   She walked over and stood looking down at me.  "If you find the
file, sign it out and bring it to my office.  I'll be here late
tonight, until at least nine p.m."

   I nodded.  "Yes, ma'am, but I'll be leaving at five."

   She looked thoughtful for a moment.  "Would you be willing to work
late if I authorized the overtime?  This is really important to me."

   'And to me to,' I thought to myself.  "Yes, ma'am, I would.  The
money would be nice."

   She nodded and said she'd take care of things and then she left.
When Jill returned she said that overtime had been authorized and I
could work as late as I wanted, but no later than 10 p.m.  Jill left
at five p.m.  I took a short break and got a Diet Coke from the soda
machine.  Then it was back to work.  I didn't find the file that night
and I didn't see Jessica either.  I was kind of disappointed because I
was sure she'd make an appearance sometime during the evening.  I left
at 10 p.m. and when I was signing out I noticed that Jessica had
signed out at 8:05.

   I worked late on Wednesday without finding the file that Jessica
wanted and I didn't see her at all that day.  On Thursday, shortly
after 8:00 p.m., I opened a box and found the file right in front.  I
pulled it out and took time to ensure that it was the right one.  Then
I signed it out and took it to Jessica's office.  I was wearing the
same skirt I'd worn on Tuesday with a differnt top.  And I was wearing
my favorite pair of Reeboks instead of sandals.  

   The office was pretty much deserted, but Jessica was still at her
desk and her face lit up with a big smile when I tapped on the door
jam and she looked up and saw the file folder in my hand.  She invited
me in with a wave of her hand and I walked across to her desk and
handed over the file.  She took a quick look through and then set it
down.  "This is so great!  How can I ever thank you?'

   I shook my head.  "No thanks are necessary, Ms Hill.  I was just
doing my job.  I should thank you for the overtime.  The money will
come in handy."  As I talked, I noticed a polished wooden paddle lying
on the top shelf of the credenza behind her.  I was surprised to see
it and she noticed immediately and asked if anything was wrong.

   I hesitated for a moment before anwering.  "No, nothing's wrong.  I
was just surprised to see that paddle lying there."

   She grinned and picked it up, holding it out for me to take.  "It's
a left-over from my college days.  Our sorority initiation paddle."

   I hefted it and glanced at her.  "It must really sting," I
whispered.

   She nodded.  "Yes, I reddened many a cute bottom with that."

   We stared at each other in silence for a long moment.  Then I
handed the paddle back and asked her if I could go.  She nodded and I
turned and started for the door.  I was halfway there when I heard her
clear her throat.  "Sara, have you been a naughty girl lately?"

   I stopped and turned slowly to face her.  She was standing behind
her desk, holding the paddle with a strangely intent look on her face.
I nodded and whispered, "Yes, Ms. Hill, I've been a very naughty
girl."

   "What have you done?"

   I took a deep breath.  "I lied to my landlord about why the rent
was late.  I masturbated in the shower yesterday.  And I'm a terrible
tease."

   "Close the door and lock it.  A naughty girl like you needs to be
punished."

   I walked over and closed her office door and locked it.  Then I
walked back and stood in front of her desk.  She asked me how many
strokes I thought I deserved.  I thought about it for a moment and
replied, "Ten, at least.  Maybe fifteen."

   "Very well, fifteen it will be.  Pull your skirt up and tuck it
into your waistband in back."

   I obeyed, blushing.  It was so deliciously humiliating, just as I'd
dreamed it would be.  I was wearing a pair of plain white cotton
panties that day.  If I'd known something was going to happened I
would have worn something sexier.

   "Spankings should be applied to a bare bottom, don't you agree?"

   I nodded, my excitement mounting.  "Yes, ma'am, I agree."  And I
slid my panties down to my knees, blushing as I bared my bottom to her
gaze.

   "Very good.  Now bend over my desk and rest your weight on your
forearms.  Don't move or I'll start over."

   I obeyed, staring out the window as I waited for the paddling to
begin.  She stepped up behind me and I felt her fingertips trail
across my bottom.  "Such a pretty ass!  So nice and firm and tight.
And smooth.  It almost seems a shame to put welts on it.  Almost."
Her voice trailed off and I thought that the paddling would begin.
But then she spoke again.  "Do you have a pretty anus?"

   I glanced over my should and met her eyes.  "I'm not sure, ma'am."

   "Show me.  Now."

   Blushing again, I reached back and spread my buttocks, exposing my
anus for her inspection.  I was trembling as I did so, not from fear
but from excitment.  And humiliation.  The delicious humiliation that
I craved.

   I felt the tip of her finger circle my anus and I moaned, a low
moan that brought a smile to her face.  Her finger circled in a rested
lightly on my anus.  "Do you like this?"

   "Yes, oh yes!"

   "Have you been taken anally?  Or had anything inserted during sex
play?"

   I shook my head.  "No, ma'am.  Never."

   "Nothing ever?  Not even a rectal thermometer?"

   I thought for a second and remembered.  "Yes, my mom used to take
my temperature that way."

   "How old were you the last time she did it?"

   I blushed again as I answered.  "Seventeen."

   "And?"

   "And I enjoyed it.  Very much."

   She chuckled and the pressure increased for a moment, then she
withdrew her finger without really penetrating me.  I moaned in
disappointment and she chuckled again.  "Later, my sweet.  Later..."

   Then, reflected in the window, I saw her arm go up and then sweep
down.  The paddle cracked across my ass and I had to bite my tongue to
keep from screaming.  "Was that hard enough?"

   I nodded.  "Yes, plenty hard."

   She heard the quaver in my voice.  "Are you going to scream?"

   "Yes."

   She walked around and opened a drawer in the credenza, removing a
ball gag which he put into my mouth.  I stared out the window again as
she secured the strap at the back of my neck.  Then the paddling
resumed and I was free to scream.  And I did scream, with tears
streaming down my face I threw my head back as each stroke landed and
screamed into the gag.  The release was as wonderful as the pain was
terrible!

   When it was over, Jessica cautioned me not to move.  She took the
gag off and then I felt her hand slip between my legs.   I knew what
she'd find.  I was wet, very wet, almost sopping wet.  Certainly
wetter than I'd ever been.  Her finger slipped easily between my inner
lips and deep into my wet vagina.  I moaned and wiggled my bottom,
pushing back against her hand.  I heard her chuckle.  "I love it!
You're such a hot, wet little slut!  Aren't you?"

   I glanced over my shoulder and grinned through my tears.  "Yes,
ma'am.  I'm a hot, wet little cunt."  I paused.  "You're hot, wet
little cunt."  I held my breath, waiting for her response.

   "Yes, MY hot, wet little cunt.  And don't you forget it!"

   I relaxed, content.  I had found a strong mistress to take control.

   "What do you want exactly?"  She continued to stroke me as she
spoke.

   "I want a strong mistress to take control of me.  To make all the
decisions.  To relieve me of responsibility for my personal life.  To
guide me.  Teach me.  Use me.  Punish me.  Own me."  I glanced over my
shoulder to gauge her reaction.

   She was staring out the window with a thoughtful look on her face,
still absentmindedly stroking my wet cunt.  Then her eyes focused on
me and she smiled.  "Any limits or are you asking for complete
slavery."

   I thought for a moment.  "I don't want to be killed or maimed.
Other than that, no limits."  I paused for a moment as a new thought
occurred to me.  "At least I don't want to be killed anytime soon.
But later, when you tire of me, I would rather be hanged than set
free.  I have fantasies about being stripped and hanged."

   She nodded.  "Agreed.  I won't kill you or maim you."  She withdrew
her hand and I moaned in disappoinment.  I had been close to orgasm.
She held her hand in front of my face and I licked it clean, enjoying
the taste of my own juices.  Then she opened the drawer in the
credenza and took out a plain leather collar.  Burgandy in color and
rich-looking.  She tossed it onto the desk and told me to put it own
to acknowledge my slavery.  I picked it up and started to put it on
but she barked, "No, you have to be on your knees, nude, when you don
the collar."

   I stopped and finished undressing.  Then I dropped to my knees and
fastened the collar around my neck.  She leaned against the desk and
told me to get down on my belly and lick her shoes in submission.  I
obeyed happily.  Freedom was a thing of the past.  I had become a
slave.

                              End of Chapter 1

LEZ SLAVE
                                    The Beginning.

   Ever since I can remember, back to the age of 6 or 7, I've known
that my orientation was toward other girls.  At the age of 9, I told
my mother that I would never marry because you could only marry men.
She spanked me and told me not to talk nonsense like that, especially
in front of others.  So I learned to hide my feelings and desires.  By
the age of 14, I knew that I was submissive.  My fondest wish was to
be taken and *used* by some older woman - a strong, beautiful woman
who would take care of me, control me, and, most of all, use me.

   At 14, I was a real tomboy - short hair, boyish build (no breasts
to spreak of), tight little butt, and slender legs.  I could beat most
of the boys my age at any sport they wanted to try, so I wasn't too
popular with them.  And the girls disliked me because I was too much
like one of the boys.  It was a lose/lose situation, but I didn't
care.  I was waiting.  I waited all through high school and while I
waited I was the good little girl my mom wanted.  I wore dressed,
learned how to wear makeup, dated, went to the prom, and engaged in
all sorts of school activities - sports, drama club, and even tried
out for cheerleading one year.  I even fucked a couple of the guys I
dated.  And during the entire four years I felt like I wanted to barf.

   College was more of the same, except the guys were worse than
they'd been in high school.  The other girls, for the most part, were
also the same as they'd been in high school - interested in boy,
gossip, and the latest fashions.  There were one or two that I met
that seemed different and were, but in the end turned out not to be
what I wanted.  My college experience boiled down to two things:  I
got a good education and it wasn't quite as bad as high school.

   After graduation, I got a job with a small software company.  I was
hired as a contract negotiator - my major was finance - and I liked it
right from the start.  The company was small, but well-run and the
products they developed were good and sold well.  I participated in
the 401k and by the time I'm 30 I should be in good financial shape.
I'm 26 now, but my search for the woman of my dreams came to an end
six months ago when I met Stephanie.  We met at a cocktail party given
by one of the vice-presidents in my division.  She told me later that
it was my blonde hair that attracted her initially.  I guess I should
describe myself.  My hair is very pale blonde, turning almost white in
the summer after I've been out in the sun a few times.  I'm 5'6",
slender, and fairly pretty.  I weigh 115 pounds and measure 34b-23-34.
My slim, sleek legs are my best feature.  I have green eyes and
freckles.  Stephanie, who's 28, is a manager at one of our best
customers.  She's tall, just over 5'10", and very athletic.  She has
long brown hair, hazel eyes, and a beautiful olive complexion.  With
her bright eyes and bold features, she is one of those women who is
often referred to as striking or handsome rather than pretty.

   I was standing in a corner, nursing a martini, when she slipped
through the crowd and introduced herself.  I smiled back and told her
my name.  We chatted for a few minutes, mostly business, and then she
glanced around at the crowd.  "Susan," she asked, "Are you having fun
or would you like to get out of here?"  I hesitated for a moment.
"What do you have in mind?"  She grinned.  "Taking you somewhere quiet
where I can turn you over my knee and give you the spanking of your
life!"  I stared at her in shock for a moment.  Then I put my glass
down on a nearby table and held my hand out.  She took it and led me
through the crowd.  As we walked out to the parking lot we continued
to exchange personal information.  One thing we determined quickly was
that her house was much closer than my apartment.  I followed her
Lexus in my Miata.  It took us no more than 15 minutes to reach her
house.  It was almost 11:00 p.m. when we arrived.  Her house turned
out to be a big colonial set on a large lot in one of the better
suburbs.  She pulled into the driveway and I followed.  The driveway
circled around to the back of the house where there was a three-car
garage attached to the house.  Two of the doors were opening.  She
pulled into one and I pulled into the other.

   When I got out, she was waiting for me.  As the garage doors closed
she smiled and said, "You can leave your clothes in the car or wear
them into the kitchen."  I hesitated.  I was thrilled and very
excited, but I didn't want to make a mistake.  I glanced at her then
down at the floor.  "What would you prefer?"  She chuckled.  "Good
answer.  Leave them on for now."  She took my hand and led me inside.
She released my hand and closed the door to the garage.  Then she
pulled a chair out from the table and sat down.  I stood where I'd
stopped and waited for her to tell me what to do.  She took a minute
to look me over.  I was wearing a little black dress with a scooped
neckline, white stockings, and black medium-heeled pumps.  My jewelery
was gold, plain, simple pieces - a rope chain, earrings, and a watch.
Stephanie smiled up at me and said, "Pretty, very pretty.  Simple, but
elegant.  You are a jewel!"  I felt myself blushing as I thanked her.
She patted her lap.  "Come and lie down here.  Let's see what you can
take."  As I approached she told me to pull my dress up.  I obeyed and
she grinned when she saw that I was wearing thigh highs and silk
bikini panties.  I stretched myself across her lap and crossed my
wrists behind my back as directed.  I stared at the floor, hardly
daring to breathe as she pulled my panties down to my knees.  I took a
deep breath as she caressed my bare buttocks with one hand while
holding my wrists with the other.  She was quite strong and I knew
that I probably wouldn't be able to escape her grip even if I wanted to do so.

   "Have you ever been spanked?"  I shook my head.
   She pinched me on the thigh and I yelped.  "I expect a verbal answer.  And be polite."  
   I nodded.  "No, ma'am, I've never been spanked."  She patted my ass and told me that was better.
   "This is your last chance to back out.  Stay or go?"
   I glanced back over my shoulder and whispered, "Stay."  

   She grinned.  Then her hand went up and dropped.  Fast.  Hard.
Craaaccck!  I squirmed, but didn't make a sound.  It hurt like hell!
And felt so good.  She gave me a dozen hard whacks and I was crying by
the fourth.  Sobbing loudly by the seventh.  After twelve she paused
and asked me if I could take another twelve.  "Yes, ma'am," I
whispered.  "Please...."  She gave me another dozen even harded than
the first twelve.  When it was over, she eased me off her lap onto my
knees.  I knelt there, sobbing and rubbing my sore ass.  She lifted my
chin and kissed me on the mouth.  God, it was perfect!  She told me to
stand up and take my dress off.  I hopped up and pulled my dress off
over my head, draping it neatly over the back of a chair.  My bra and
panties followed a minute later.  Then, wearing only stockings and
shoes, I was taken on a tour of the house.  

   As we left the livingroom and mounted the stairs to the second
floor, Stephanie asked me how it felt to be virtually nude.  I glanced
up at her and whispered, "It feels.... right.  Very right."  She
showed me around the upstairs.  There were four bedrooms and two full
baths.  Every room was decorated beautifully and I fell in love with
the house and with Stephanie.  She was the strong, dominant woman I'd
been seeking.  After I'd seen the upstairs, we returned to the
kitchen.  Stephanie sat on the counter by the sink and had me stand in
front of her.  Her knees touched my belly as I stood, as directed,
with my hands clasped behind my back.  She toyed with my nipples as
she questioned me about my past experiences.  She was surprised and
delighted to discover that she was the first woman to spank me.  She
frowned when I told her that I fucked a few guys in high school and
one in college.  But her frown went away while I told her I'd been
quite celibate since college.  She told me to turn around and bend
over.  I obeyed and blushed when her fingers grazed my anus.  "How
about here?  Has anybody penetrated you here?"

   I glanced back at her and whispered, "No, nobody."  She nodded and
told me to turn and face her again.  She went back to toying with my
nipples.  I asked her if she thought my breasts were too small.  She
shook her head.  "No, they're perfect.  Small and pert and oh so
sensitive."  I sighed with pleasure as she pinched my nipples and
pulled them gently.  The questions resumed and I answered fully and
truthfully.  Finally, "Susan, what do you want?" 

   I glanced around and took a deep breath before answering.  "I want
to be loved and cherised and controlled.  I want to be....... owned."

   She smiled and kissed me.  "A slave.  You want to be a slave?"
   I nodded.  "Yes, I want to be your slave.  Take me, train me, own me.  Please!"
   "Limits?'  She asked.
   "None."  I replied.
   "On your knees..... slave."

   I dropped to my knees and kissed the tips of her shoes.  She left
me on my knees while she went to get a collar.  It was a narrow collar
made of hand-tooled black leather.  It didn't fit quite snugly enough,
but she promised me one of my own that did.  She locked it on with a
small stainless steel padlock.  Then she sent me home.  She gave me
the weekend and Monday to pack my things and put them in storage.  I
called in on Monday and told them I was taking a couple of vacation
days.  It cost me an extra $200, but I had a mover there that day to
take my things to a long-term storage facility.  My landlord wasn't
happy until I said I'd forfeit my security deposit.  On Monday
evening, at 7:00 p.m., I arrived back at Stephanie's house.  I had a
few personal belongings and a small suitcase with a few clothes and my
toiletries.  I was wearing a cropped t-shirt, cutoff denim jeans, my
collar, and jogging shoes.  No underwear.  I pulled in and opened the
garage with the remote that Stephanie had given me.  Her car wasn't in
the garage.  I had a key to the house, but I didn't go inside.  When
Stephanie arrived at 7:30 I was on my knees behind my Miata, nude,
waiting for her.  When she got out of her car I crawled to her on my
belly and licked the tips of her shoes in submission.  She crouched
and stroked my hair gently.  I shivered with pleasure when she told me
that I was a good girl and would make an excellent slave.

  We went inside then.  She walked and I followed on my hands and
knees.  My life as a slave had begun.

                                 THE END?         

  

			The Sale. By JYM 

	My husband and I had been married for almost six years and our
sex life was getting stale.  Part of the problem had to do with our
careers - both of us had demanding professional lives, his in law,
mine in accounting.  There were no children and no plans to have any.
I was 28 and striving for a partnership at the accounting firm where I
was working at the  time.  My husband was 34 and already a partner at his firm.

	Then, and I honestly don't remember how, we got into bondage.
And it added some spice.  But it turned out that I was into it more
than Arthur and he didn't like it when I began pushing him to expand
our D/s relationship.  He was a 'reluctant' dom.  I was an eager
submissive, ready to explore this new world.  It was such a change
from my normal life where I was a hard driving, agressive yuppie.

	So, it was a nice surprise when Arthur called me at the office
one Friday afternoon and told me that we were going into the city that
night to visit the club.  I won't name it, but you'd know the name if
I did.  I asked him what time he planned to leave and was surprised
when he said, "Five p.m.  I'll pick you up at your office."

	"But that doesn't give me a chance to change into something more appropriate."  
	He brushed aside my protest.  "Don't worry.  You're dressed
perfectly for your role - uptight corporate bitch who gets enslaved,
stripped and put on the auction block."  And then he hung up on me.

	I have to admit that I was excited by the image he'd evoked.
And I looked the part.  I was wearing a gray suit, a white silk
blouse, white stockings, and black pumps with 3" heels.  My skirt, as
usual, was well above the knee.  I have great legs and I've learned
that showing them off can provide a useful distraction at times.  I'm
blonde, with brown eyes, and a nice complexion.  I tan easily and
rarely burn.  I'm 5'8" and athletic.  Pretty, but not really
beautiful.  My hair is long and usually pulled back into a bun for
work, or sometimes a French braid.

	Arthur picked me up at exactly 5:00 p.m. and drove straight to
the train station.  We took the next train into the city and then
caught a cab for the ride to the club.  Arthur had his toys in his
spare briefcase.  He put my collar on in the cab, locking it with a
medium sized Master padlock.  Leather wrist restraints went on next.
The rest was deferred until we were inside the club.

	After we left the cab, Arthur pulled my hands behind my back
and secured them.  Then he snapped a long leash onto my collar and led
me into the club.  I was wet before we got to the door.  I had to pee
and asked Arthur if we could stop at the ladies room before we entered
the club proper.  He shook his head and said, "You're a bitch, do what
bitches do, piss on the sidewalk."

	I shook my head, "No, I have panties on and I don't want to
ruin my stockings and shoes.  Please, Arthur, be reasonable."

	He smirked and shook his head.  "Oh, Jenny!  Don't worry about
your clothes.  You won't need them for much longer.  Slaves are usually kept nude."

	I stared at him in shocked silence for a moment.  "Nooooo,
Arthur.  You're not going to really sell me, are you?"  My voice
quavered, a mixture of fear and excitement.

	He shortened up on the leash and flicked the loose end across
my face.  I screamed and tried to back away.  "Piss yourself bitch, or
I'll whip you right here on the sidewalk!"

	I glanced around but there wasn't another person in sight.
Then, whimpering, I stepped out of my shoes and wet myself.  I
couldn't help it, I was terrified.  And also extremely excited by the
knowledge that I was actually going to be sold into slavery.  I was
surprised at how erotic it was to stand there with urine running down my legs in a warm stream.  

	Arthur laughed and said, "You're a dirty slut, aren't you?"
	I didn't answer and got another taste of the leash, this time
across my breasts.  I was crying when I nodded and whispered, "Yes, Arthur, I'm a dirty little slut."

	He nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer, and led me
inside.  My shoes remained on the sidewalk, forgotten.  "It's going to
be fun to watch you being sold.  I put a clause in the agreement that
you signed that states you must be branded before you leave the
block."  He paused and glanced at me, chuckling at the expression on
my face.  "Oh, you don't remember signing the agreeemnt?  I guess maybe I signed for you."

	Inside, I was turned over to a couple of female attendants who
would prepare me for sale.  Arthur had them cut my clothes off before
they led me away.  He also had instructions for them.  "Cut her hair
short, shave her completely, and oil her with a heavy coating of that
musk oil that I sent over."  The taller attendant, a redhead, nodded
and then took the leash from Arthur.

	They led me down the hall and up a flight of stairs.  The
redhead chatted with the other woman as we climbed the stairs.  "We'll
cut her hair first, then shave her.  Next an enema and a douche.  Then
a shower.  We'll oil her just before she goes on the block.  They want
her crying as she mounts the block, so we'll whip her just before it's her turn."

	I started to say something but the redhead pivoted and drove
her hard little fist into my belly.  I sank to the floor, gasping for
breath.  She grabbed a handful of hair and jerked my head up, slapping
me twice, hard.  "Slaves don't talk.  Slaves respond when commanded.
Do you understand?"

	I took a deep, shuddering breath.  "Yes, ma'am.  I understand."
	We continued on up the stairs and down a short hallway.  The
door at the end opened into a room that looked like a lockerroom, but
without lockers or benches.  There was an open shower, a whirlpool, a
massage table, toilet, sink, bidet, and a couple of rolling tables
with adjustable tops like some dog groomers use.  They led me inside
and closed the door, locking it behind us.  The redhead snapped her fingers, "Kneel."

	I dropped to my knees like an obedient slave.  The other
woman, a short, almost stocky brunette, asked me if I was going to
give them any trouble.  I shook my head and whispered, "No, ma'am."

	They moved away and conferred in low voices, too low for me to
understand more than a word or two.  I looked around.  There was a
round grate in one corner, like a sewer grating, and I shuddered as I
realized that it was just that - an open waste pipe.  

	They rolled one of the adjustable tables into the center of
the room and locked it in place using rings set in the floor.  Then
the redhead snapped her fingers and ordered, "Up and kneel".  I stood
up and climbed up onto the table.  It was awkward with my hands still
cuffed behind my back, but the brunette helped me.  When I was in
position, the redhead stroked my shoulder and said, "Good girl."

	They cut my hair first.  The brunette, who turned out to be a
trained hairdresser, did a fine job of cropping my hair until it was
no more than one inch long anywhere on my head.  I watched her
progress in the mirror on the end wall.  When the haircut was over, I
was released from the cuffs and positioned on my back with my arms and
legs fastened to rings set in the bottom of the table top.  My legs
were spread.  They clipped my pubic hair with scissors and then used a
hot towel to soften the remainder.  Then, after an application of
shaving cream, I was carefully shaved - pubic mound, legs (each leg
released and raised), underarms, arms.  Every hair below my neck was removed.

	Next came the douche.  And then the enema.  I was placed
face-down on the table with my knees drawn up under me to elevate my
ass.  An enema bag, with two quarts of warm soapy water was hung from
a chain.  I whimpered as the greased nozzle was slipped into my ass.
The redhead stroked my hair as the brunette removed the clip and
allowed the warm water to flow into my rectum.  I began to feel the
pressure within a couple of minutes.  The redhead rubbed my belly and
talked softly, soothing me as I whimpered and moaned.  They put the
whole two quarts into me and I felt as if I were pregnant or how I
imagined I'd feel if I were.
	
	The nozzled was removed and a butt plug inserted.  The redhead
told me to get up and walk around.  She said I had to keep it in for
ten minutes.  I whimpered but I knew better than to say anything.  I
walked around for a couple of minutes and then stopped.  The redhead
came over and rubbed my belly.  "I wish I had the money to bid on you,
I'd love to have you for my personal slut."

	My eyes widened, it had never occurred to me that a woman
might buy me!  The redhead chuckled.  "Never thought you might wind up
as a dyke's pet, did you?"

	I shook my head and whispered, "No, ma'am.  It surely didn't."
	She shook her head, still chuckling.  Her hand slipped down
and cupped my sex.  I moaned and pushed against her palm.  She smiled
and kissed me on the mouth.  I started to resist but then I remembered
my new status and opened my mouth in surrender.  Her tongue flickered
around my mouth and I pressed myself against her hand, wanting to be
masturbated.  But she stepped back and said, "Too bad we don't have
more time."  Then she told me she was going to remove the butt plug
and I was to walk over to the corner, squat over the grating, and
expel.  "If you do it on the floor you'll lick it up."

	I squeezed my sphincter as tightly as I could and she pulled
the butt plug out.  I walked over and squatted over the grating,
expelling the contents of my bowels after just a moment of pushing.
The redhead watched, smiling, and then said, "Okay, get your ass into
the shower."  I ran to the shower and washed myself twice.  There was
a nozzle attached to a long flexible hose.  The redhead made me squat
and put it in my ass and the in my cunt, leaving it in for two minutes
in each place.  Any sense of modesty I had disappeared during that shower.

	After I was showered and dried, the redhead blowdried my hair
and then I was oiled with a light oil that had a strong musky scent
mixed into it.  I was collared and cuffed and fitted with ankle
restraints.  Then, leashed, I was led back downstairs to be sold.  We
waited behind a curtain until the slave on the block, a young male,
was sold.  Then a video clip of me was played, showing me giving a
lecture at a training session.  I could see it through a hole in the
curtain.  I looked good in it.  The auctioneer said, "This is the next
slave up for sale.  This video is from her former life - she was a
real tight-assed yuppie bitch.  She is being sold with no restrictions, unlimited use."

	I glanced at the redhead and she whispered, "That means they
can do anything they want with you and never have to let you go."  She
paused and glanced through the hole.  "You can be resold, discarded,
or....."  She didn't finish but I knew what she didn't say.  I could be killed.

	She must have seen some signal because she picked up a leather
strap and fastened it around my arms and pulled it tight, drawing my
elbows together.  It was very painful and forced me to arch my back,
lifting my firm pear-shaped tits.  I whimpered in pain as she buckled
the strap and then picked up the leash.  She lead me out and up onto
the small platform.  I was displayed for five minutes and then the
sale began.  The bidding was fast and furious at the beginning, but
soon it was down to two - a big red-faced man with a southern accent
and a beautiful, light-skinned black woman with a low, cultured voice.
The woman bought me for $194,000.

	I was the last to be sold that night.  As the crowd broke up,
the redhead whispered, "You were very lucky.  The redneck was going to
fuck you and then hang you.  You'd have died right here in this room."

	I shivered and almost wet myself again.  I was that terrified!
My new owner, whose name is Elaine, paid cash and claimed me from the
redhead.  Elaine led me through the crowd and out the front door to a
waiting limo.  She put me on my knees in front of her and instructed
the driver to go straight to the airport.  I wondered how she was
going to get me on a plane without clothes, but I didn't worry about
it.  As it turned out, we went through a gate and over to a private
jet.  I was whisked aboard and found myself on my knees in what might
have been a small livingroom in a condo.

	Elaine ignored me for most of the flight, busying herself with
a briefcase full of papers.  I remained on my knees, hands cuffed
behind my back.  I saw no one else during the flight which lasted
about three hours.  Finally, Elaine looked at me and snapped her
fingers, pointing at a spot right in front of her.  I moved over to
her without rising from my knees.  She stared at me in silence for a
moment and then said, "I bought you because you are a CPA.  You are
going to be my personal assistant and help me run my business.  I'm in
the export/import business in New Orleans.  But make no mistake, you
are a slave and will remain alive only as long as you are useful to me
- professional, personally, and sexually.  Do we understand each other?"

	I licked my lips and whispered, "Yes, mistress."
	She smiled and said, "Watch this short video.  It's your
predecessor."  She had me turn and face the TV that was set in a
partition in front of her seat.  The screen brightened and showed a
view of water.  Then the camera turned panned and showed that the
video was being shot on a large cabin cruiser.  It continued to move
until it showed the cockpit and the stern of the boat.  A very pretty
blonde girl in her mid twenties was kneeling on the deck.  She was
nude and her hands were tied behing her back.  She was sobbing.  The
sound kicked in and I heard her say, "Please don't kill me!  Please,
I'll be a good slave.  Pleaassssse, just give me a chance!!!!"  She
was clearly terrified and I saw a stream of urine splash on the deck
as she lost control of her bladder.

	Another woman, also nude, but hooded, moved into view.  She
was black and had a superb body and I realized that it was Elaine.
She turned toward the camera and said, "This slut was my trusted
associate.  She stole from me and now she'll pay the price!"

	I watched in morbid fascination as Elaine moved behind the
terrified blonde and looped a rawhide cord around her neck.  She
strangled the blonde but not to death.  She loosed the cord at the
last moment and then bent to whisper something in the girl's ear.  The
girl shook her head and begged for mercy.  Elaine ignored her.
Finally, the blonde crawled across the deck and allowed Elaine to
shacked a heavy weight to her ankles.  Then, while the blonde sobbed
in terror, Elaine pushed the weight over the side.  The blonde was
dragged over the side to drown.

	I have been a good slave.

                                  The Slave  by JYM

    Until quite recently, my only experience with anything even
remotely resembling D/s was an incident that happened when near the
end of my sophomore year in college - more than eight years ago.  My
roommate and I got into an argument about who's turn it was to do some
cleaning.  I knew it was my turn - and so did she - but I had a date
and wanted to leave.  We argued and she got mad and decided that I
needed a spanking.  Since she was faster, and stronger, I got a good
spanking.  She took me across her knee, flipped my skirt up, and
pulled my panties down.  Then she gave me a good, hard spanking that
lasted for what seemed like hours but was, in reality, no more than
four or five minutes.  But it hurt like hell and it was very
humiliating.  When it was over I was sobbing like a baby and she made
it worse by slipping her hand between my legs and discovering that I
was very wet.  Despite the evidence, I denied that being spanked had
turned me on.  But I learned my lesson and never attempted to avoid my
share of the work.

   Neither of us mentioned the incident afterward and the school year
was over a few weeks later.  I roomed with someone else the following
year and only saw Jamie a few times after that.  After college, I came
to New England and found a nice job in a small town on the coast.  I
met a guy after a few months and we dated, decided we liked each
other, and got married.  I've been married for almost five years now
and we have one child - a girl who just turned two.  I thought my life
was settled and secure, that I was all set.  After all, I had a loving
husband, a beautiful baby, a nice home, a good job, good neighbors -
the American dream.  But I began to get restless.  I had the feeling
that something was missing.

   I did a lot of thinking, a lot of self-evalutation, a lot of
soul-searching.  And none of it helped a bit.  Then, one afternoon, a
young woman at work was talking about her weekend with her boyfriend.
She mentioned that he'd spanked her and I said something about spousal
abuse.  She laughed and said, "No, it wasn't like that!  He spanked me
because I wanted him to - it turns me on."  I apologized for jumping
to conclusions and we chatted for another minute or so and then I went
back to my desk.  Later, as I was driving home, I found myself
thinking about the look on her face when she talked about being
spanked.  And then I remembered the incident from my college days.
And it turned me on.  I realized that I wanted to try it again.  Even
aftering picking Jen up at daycare and driving home I was aroused.

   That night, when Jim and I were finally in bed together, I
mentioned the subject of spankings and was surprised when he showed no
interest at all.  Over the next week or so I mentioned it again
several times and each time he showed zero interest.  Finally, he got
mad and told me not to bring it up again.  He said he wasn't a wife
abuser and didn't like me talking about spankings and such.  So I shut
up about it and assumed that it wasn't in the cards for me.  Life went
on and, to be honest, it was pretty good.  A few months passed and
then one night when I was at my aerobics class I ran into Jamie, my
old roommate from college.

   Up until now I haven't said anything about my appearance.  I'm
certainly not beautiful and it's a stretch to even call be pretty.
I'm average or maybe a little above average.  My husband describes me
as 'quietly attractive', meaning, I suppose, that you have to look
more than once to realize that I'm not plain.  I'm 5'6", 122 pounds,
and have light brown hair and brown eyes.  I have a nice figure
(34c-26-34) and very nice legs.  I work hard to stay in shape.  I go
to aerobics 2-3 times a week, run most mornings, and lift weights with
my husband a couple of times a week.  The night I ran into Jamie was a
hot night in late July.  I was wearing a crop top over a sports bra,
cotton panties, nylon jogging shorts, socks, and my favorite pair of
Reeboks.  

   I was on my way into the class when I heard someone call my name.
I turned around and saw a tall blonde standing near the entrance to
the locker room.  It took me a moment to realize who it was.  Jamie
hadn't changed all that much, but I hadn't seen her in years and I
wasn't expecting to see her ever again.  She was even prettier than
she'd been in college and she'd been very pretty back then.  She
smiled as I walked over and held her hand out.  We shook hands and did
the usual 'How have you been' ritual.  From the way she was dressed it
was obvious that she wasn't at the club for the aerobics class.  I
asked her how she happened to be there and she said she'd just taken
over the club and two others in nearby towns.  "I'm on a tour of
inspection you might say.  I'm trying to decide which club to make my
headquarters."

   We chatted for a couple of minutes and then I went to my class.  We
arranged to meet afterwards and talk.  I hadn't planned to shower at
the club that night, so I was pretty sweaty when I walked out of class
and found Jamie waiting for me.  We sat down on a bench near the door
and talked, catching up on old times.  After we'd been talking for a
while she smiled and asked if I remembered 'the night'.  I blushed and
whispered, "Yes, I do.  Very vividly."  Then I glanced at her and
asked if she'd spanked anyone lately.  She grinned and shook her head.
"No, not lately.  Why?  Do you know someone who needs one?"

   I hesitated, nodded, then whispered, "Yes, me."  

   She was silent for a moment.  "Are you serious?"

   "Yes, very."  I glanced away, unable to look her in the eye.

   "It would be more now, much more.  I'm into heavy D/s.  I had to
give up my slave when I came east to buy the clubs.  She couldn't
leave California, her mother is ill.  I want a replacement.  Are you
willing to be a slave?  What would your husband think?"

   "He could never know," I whispered, answering her questions out of
order.  "But, yes, I think I'd like to be a slave.  It would be nice
not to have to make decisions.  Only do as I'm told."  My voice
trailed off because she was shaking her head.

   "It would never work.  He'd find out.  And I'm talking heavy D/s.
Real slavery.  Pain, humilation, discipline.  I'd mark you.  Change
you.  Subjugate you.  You'd live and work her at the club.  I'd have
you pierced.  Maybe branded.  I don't think you're ready for that.
Are you?"

   I shook my head.  "No, I'm not.  I don't know if I ever would be
ready for that type of relationship."  I paused.  "Will you spank me
anyway?  Please?"

   She nodded and got to her feet.  "Come with me to the office."

   I followed her into the administrative office and across it to her
private office in the back.  Once inside, she locked the door and told
me remove my clothes, all except my socks.  I took my shoes off and
slowly undressed.  I hadn't bargained on having to strip, but it
didn't bother me too much.  When I was finished, she looked me over
slowly and said, "You're in great shape.  You have a fine body.  I
really wish I could enslave you."  Then she opened a drawer in her
desk and took out a leather strap about 20" long and 3" wide.  She
also brought out a pair of handcuffs and a ball gag.  I stared at them
in fascination.  "I'm going to spank you hard, very hard, so you need
to be cuffed and gagged.  Any objections?"

   I shook my head, too scared to speak.  I felt like crying already.
But I was also very excited.  She cuffed my hands beind my back and I
opened my mouth for the gag.  When it was in, she tied the leather
thongs together behind my neck.  Then she had me stand in front of her
desk, pressed against it.  "Bend over the desk until your upper body
is parallel to it, but make sure your nipples are not touching the top
of the desk."  I did as instructed.  "I'm going to give you thirty
hard strokes.  If you move I start over.  Understand?"  I glanced back
at her and nodded.

   Then it started.  I heard the 'swisssssh' and then the strap cut
across my buttocks.  The pain was instantaneous and incredibly bad!  I
screamed into the gag, tears running down my cheeks.  But I didn't
move.  Not then and not later.  I danced from foot to foot and
screamed my guts out, but I didn't move.  If I hadn't been gagged I
would have begged for mercy.  It was terrible.  The absolute worst
experience of my life.  When it was over she removed the gag, but left
me cuffed.  I stood there sobbing, tears streaming down my face.  She
asked me if I wanted another 20 or 30.  I stared at her in horror and
said, "No, oh god no!  I couldn't take it."

   She nodded.  "Are you wet?"  As she spoke, she slipped her hand
between my legs and discovered the truth for herself.  I was sopping.
She held her hand up so I could see her finger covered with my
secretions.  "I think you want another 20 or 30.  Otherwise, you'd be
down on your knees begging me to masturbate you instead."

   I immediately dropped to my knees and began to beg.  "Please don't
whip me again.  Please.  Will you masturbate me instead?  Please,
Jamie, please masturbate me.  Oh, god!  I'm begging.  Please don't
whip me!"  She grinned.  "Down on your belly slut.  Lick the tips of
my pumps and admit what you are."

   I rolled onto my left hip and eased myself down onto my belly.  It
was hard with my hands cuffed behind my back, but I did it.  I inched
over to her on my belly and licked the tips of her pumps.  She
crouched and grabbed a handful of my hair, jerking my head up until we
were staring into each other's eyes.  "What are you?"  Her voice was
harsh and demanding.

   "I'm a slut," I whispered.

   She slapped me.  "Yes you are, but that's not the answer I want."

   "I'm a slave."

   Another slap.  "Go on, continue."

   "I'm a nude slave.  Your nude slave.  Your slut.  Your nude slut."

   Another hard slap.  "Are you wet?"  I nodded.  "What does that make
you?"

   I thought for a moment, groping for the answer she wanted.  The
slaps hurt and I was crying again.  She smiled and slapped me again.
"I like it when you cry."  Another slap.  "Answer me!"

   "I'm a wet cunt.  I'm a nude, wet-cunt slave.  A nude bitch-slut."
I was in pain, sobbing, humiliated, and very very aroused.  More
aroused than I'd ever been in my entire life.

   She released my hair after giving it a good hard tug.  Then she
stood up and kicked her shoes off.  I struggled up to my knees and she
kicked me in the belly, driving the breath out of me.  As I writhed on
the floor, gasping for breath, she unlocked the cuffs and tossed them
aside.  "Get up and get out!  Go home to your husband and your
daughter.  You'd never make it as a slave."  The contempt in her voice
cut me like a knife.  I got dressed and turned to leave.  She called
my name and I turned toward her, staring at her feet.  "Look at me you
sniveling bitch!"  I glanced up and she spat in my face.  I turned and
groped for the door knob, sobbing, totally humiliated.  I found my car
somehow and drove around for almost an hour before going home.

   When I got home, Jim was angry and worried because I was so late.
He realized I'd been crying and demanded to know what was going on.
He kept after me and I finally told him.  "You wouldn't spank me.
Tonight I met an old friend from college and she obliged me.  And I
loved it!  She wants to have me as her slave!"

   Jim stared at me in silence for a long moment.  "Get your fucking
clothes off.  Now!"

   I hesitated and he punched me in the belly.  I sank to my knees and
he crouched and stripped me.  When he saw the strap marks on my
buttocks he punched me again, this time between my legs.  I screamed
and rolled into a tight ball.  He grabbed me and dragged me to the
door.  He threw me out on the steps.  Then he went and got my clothes
and purse and tossed them out onto the grass.  "Get your ass out of
here, cunt!  Get a lawyer!  Don't ever come back or I'll kill you!"  

   I got dressed as quickly as I could.  When I rummaged through my
purse I found that he'd taken my car keys and my money.  I hesitated
and then started walking.  I walked all the way back to the club,
almost six miles.  By the time I got there it was after midnight and
the club was long closed.  But there was an emergency number on the
door and I called it.  It took a couple of calls, but I finally got in
touch with Jamie.  She was staying in a rented house a couple of miles
from the club.  I told her what had happened and she drove down to
pick me up.  There was no sympathy.  Not then.  She told me that I had
a choice to make.  I could submit and become her slave or she'd loan
me some money and drive me to a hotel.  She pointed across the parking
lot.  "There's a dumpster there.  Either walk over there and throw
everything into it, clothes, purse, and shoes.  Or go and get into my
van and I'll take you to a hotel."

   I glanced at her and started walking toward the van.  Then I veered
away and walked over to the dumpster.  I heard the van start up as I
tossed my purse into the dumpster.  All my identification - my
identity - went with the purse.  I stripped and tossed my clothes in.
Jamie was leaning against the van when I turned away from the
dumpster.  I walked over and dropped to my knees in front of her.  She
crouched and we stared into each other's eyes.  "Are you sure?"  I
hesitated, then nodded.  She reached into her pocket and took out a
leather collar.  She handed it to me and straightened up.  I glanced
up and stared into her eyes as I fastened the collar around my neck.
Then she handed me a Master padlock and I locked the collar with it.
I got down on my belly and licked her shoes in submission, embarking
upon my life of slavery.


                                    The End.

Becky and I, F/F Bnd by JYM

    When it happened I was five months pregnant and my husband was out
of the country on business.  He'd been gone for two weeks and would be
gone for at least another three weeks.  He's a troubleshooter for an
engineering consulting firm and one of their clients was having major
problems with a new plant in Taiwan.  So I was alone and frustrated.
Very frustrated.  Until I got pregnant our sex life had always been
lively and active.  

   Then Mark backed right off and started treating me like I was
breakable.  Nothing I said, and nothing the doctor said could convince
him otherwise.  The idea of my being fragile is ridiculous, but not to
Mark.  I'm 5'11" and weighed 135 pounds before I got pregnant.  I'm 26
years old and very healthy.  I've always been athletic and strong and
have never hesitated when it comes to physical challenges.  I run, do
aerobics, lift weights, and do some serious bicycling.  On top of all
that, I run my own landscaping business which I started a few years
ago while working for my father at the garden center he'd just
purchased.

   The day it happened had been a hard day at work.  Everybody was
urging me to ease off, but I wasn't showing much and certainly didn't
feel like I needed to ease off.  My doctor agreed.  Her only advice
was to avoid the extremely strenuous lifting I'd done in the past.
Anyway, I got home and I was bushed.  I changed into shorts and a
little cropped t-shirt and went out on the patio to relax.  I had a
pitched of iced tea and the mail.  I'd was about halfway through the
mail when Becky, our next-door neighbor and my best friend opened the
gate and came into the yard.  Our backyard is surrounded by a high
stockade fence.  That, and some carefully placed evergreens, make our
yard very private.  In the pre-pregnancy days, Mark and I used to
skinny dip in our pool quite a bit - an activity that often led to
some very memorable outdoor activities.  

   Becky is a couple of years older than I and very pretty.  She's
small and blonde and slim, very intelligent and very agressive.  She
sells computers for a major distributor and does very well at it.  Her
husband, Steve, is a consultant in the computer industry.  They don't
have any children yet and Becky was thrilled when I announced my
pregnancy.  Anyway, that night was a typical July night - hot and
humid.  Becky was wearing a bikini and carrying a bottle of Evian.
When she appeared through the gate, I waved and invited her to come
and sit down.  She put her water on the table and said, "Let me get
wet first."  She walked over to the pool and dove in.  She swam the
length of the pool and then came and sat down at the table.

   We chatted for a while - the usual smalltalk, and then she asked me
if anything was wrong.  I shrugged.  "Guess I'm just a little
frustrated with Mark out of town and all.  Of course if he was here
I'd still be frustrated."  I didn't have to explain - Becky and I have
no secrets from each other.  She asked if she could use my phone for a
moment and disappeared into the kitchen without waiting for an answer.
When she returned, she stood behind my chair and began to rub my
shoulders.  Becky may be small (she's 5'4") but she has strong hands
and it felt wonderful.  I leaned forward, resting my head on my
crossed arms, and let her massage my shoulders and neck.  

   After a few minutes she plucked at my top and said, "This is in the
way.  Hold your arms up."  I obediently held my arms up and she pulled
my top up over my head.  Then she said, "Stand up.  Let's move over to
one of the lounge chairs.  I can give you a real massage.  It'll relax
you."  As I got to my feet, she disappeared into the kitchen and
returned with the canvas bag that I use to hold my sunscreens,
hairbrushes, baby oil, etc.  All the supplies that I bring out to the
pool or to the beach.  When she returned I was sitting on one of the
lounge chairs.  She set the bag down and told me to stand up.  I
obeyed.  She motioned me to turn around so that I was facing away from
her and I obeyed again.  I felt her unhook my bra and I pressed my
arms against my sides to hold it on.  I glanced back over my shoulder
and we stared at each other in silence for a moment.  Then I relaxed
and let my bra fall away.  She reached around and unsnapped my shorts.
I stared out over the yard while she eased them down.  Becky and I had
seen each other nude before, but this was different somehow.  I
stepped out of my shorts and she hooked her thumbs into the waistband
of my panties and skimmed them down over my hips.  Then she had me
take the pad from the lounge chair and put it on the deck at the edge
of the pool.  She set the bag beside it and had me stretch out on my
stomach.  "I'm going to give you the best massage of your life!"  I
rested my head on my crossed arms, facing to my right so I could look
out over the pool and my gardens.

   Becky straddled my hips and poured some scented body lotion on my
shoulders.  As she leaned forward I felt something and glanced back at
her.  She was nude and what I'd felt was her bare, shaved pubes
brushing against my buttocks.  I closed my eyes and drifted while she
massaged my shoulders.  She worked her way down my back, taking her
time, and I felt the tension drain out of me.  She worked my buttocks
and thighs and then the backs of my knees and calves.  Then she lifted
my feet, one at a time, and gave them a lot of attention.  It was
heaven!  Sheer delight.  When she tapped my ankle and whispered, "Roll
over," I obeyed without opening my eyes.  She started at my ankles and
worked her way up my body.

   I held my breath as she finished my left thigh and sighed
(disappointment?  Relief?) as she scooted higher, stopping with her
knees touching me at mid-thigh, and squirted some lotion on my belly.
She worked my belly and sides and then, very casually, squirted lotion
on my breasts.  My nipples had turned darker as my pregnancy
progressed and were very sensitive.  She massaged my breasts and my
nipples hardened against her palms.  I sighed with pleasure and
whispered, "Oh god, this is sooooo good!  Thanks, Beck."  She gave my
breasts a little extra attention and then moved on to do my shoulders
and neck.  As she massaged my neck she squeezed gently a couple of
times.  I opened my eyes and found her staring down at me.  We
continued to stare at each other as she slowly and deliberately
tighten her hands on my neck, her thumbs pressed against my airway.  I
turned my head back, exposing more of my throat, making myself more
vulnerable.  She smiled, a small smile that acknowledged my unspoken
passage into her control.  Then she released me and swung herself off,
moving into a kneeling position at my side.  She tapped my knee and
whispered, "Up on your hands and knees.  Knees apart as far as you
can."  I groaned and rolled over.  When I was postioned to her liking
she poured some lotion into the crevice between my buttocks.  I felt
in roll down over my anus and my pubic mound.  She slipped one hand
between my legs and cupped my sex, massaging my left breast with her
other hand.  I let my head hang and moaned as she masturbated me. It
was fantastic!

   I was close to orgasm when I saw another pair of feet appear in
front of me.  I looked up, startled, and recognized Becky's husband
Steve.  He was nude and his cock was hard.  He knelt in front of me
and I opened my mouth to accept him.  He's not big, maybe 6-7" erect,
but his cock is thick and it felt good to have it in my mouth.  I
sucked him even as Becky brought me to orgasm with her hand.  Then,
while I continued to suck Steve's cock, she began to rub my anus
lightly with the tip of one finger.  At the same time, she rubbed my
throat with her other hand and I pushed my neck against her hand to
let her know that I liked it there.  I pushed my ass against her
finger to let her know that I liked that too.  She leaned close and
whispered, "You're going to eat me while Steve puts his cock in your
ass!  How do you like that?"  I nodded eagerly.  Just then, Steve shot
his load into my mouth and I swallowed frantically, not wanting to
lose a drop.

   Becky and I swam for a while to give Steve time to recover.  Becky
kissed and fondled me almost constantly and I enjoyed the attention.
I blushed and whispered, "Yes" when she asked if I liked having Steve
cum in my mouth.  She grinned when I admitted that I had never licked
cunt before.  When Steve was ready, Becky stretched out on the pad and
I straddled her in the class 69 position.  Steve crouched behind me
and lubricated his cock in my cunt while I explored Becky with my
tongue.  It was so different and so nice.  She was soft and slick and
tasty.  Then I felt the head of Steve's cock press against my anus.  I
took a deep breath and moaned as he thrust into me.  It hurt, but then
it was soooo good.  I lapped Becky to orgasm while Steve butt-fucked
me.  He shot his load deep into my rectum just as Becky reached
orgasm.  

   Afterward, the three of us swam for a while and then Steve left.
Becky and I swam and talked and licked each other to orgasm again.
And then again.  Finally, just before midnight, I asked her to stay
the night with me.  She agreed and we showered together after she
called Steve.  Later, as we cuddled in bed, Becky asked me what I'd
liked best about the evening.  I hesitated for a moment and then
buried my face in the hollow of her neck and whispered, "When you had
your hands on my neck and were cutting off my air with your thumbs. I
felt so vulnerable, so totally in your control."  She stroked my hair.
"And you liked that?"  I pulled back and stared into her eyes.  "I
loved it!  I got so wet.  I didn't know what you were going to do.
The possibilty that you might just strangle me was so erotic.  I
almost reached orgasm just from having your hands on my throat!"  

   Becky reached out and stroked my cheek.  "You really are
submissive, aren't you?  Are you just discovering this?"  I nodded.
"Yes, the answer to both is yes."  She smiled and kissed me.  "Go to
sleep now."  I nodded and rolled over.  I must have fallen asleep
right away because I don't remember anything until the following
morning.  I awoke to the aroma of fresh coffee.  I got up and slipped
into a short cotton robe.  When I entered the kitchen Becky was
leaning against the counter with a mug in her hand.  She smiled when I
walked in.  I walked over and took her left hand in both of mine and
put it on my throat.  She squeezed gently and whispered, "Who gave you
permission to wear any clothing?"  I felt a thrill of excitement pass
through me like an electric shock.  "Nobody did.  Please forgive me."
As I spoke I was untying the robe and slipping it off.  Then I dropped
to my knees and kissed her hand.  She ruffled my hair and I sighed
with pleasure.  I had become a slave and I was content.

                                  The End  

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