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The Fall

By: highlands_master



Sheryl knew she needed a way out. Since The Crash, her entire life had fallen apart. She should have left New York after 911-but she was just too attached to her job and the people she worked with. It was all just too hard to believe. First most of Los Angeles had been turned into a rather large crater. Then the refugees had streamed into New York. It was obvious that LA simply wasn't going to be rebuilt anytime soon-and much of what was left of the US entertainment business was New York based. New York had experienced a boom of sorts--even after many of the H-1b workers had been expelled after the Gulf War disaster. Sheryl had known things were getting strange though when the media had gotten terribly religious in orientation. Still she had her job. Her boss, Gerald, was so wonderful-not that she had gotten to see him all that much--and occasional quickie at the office was most of what he had gotten. The rare and occaisional "real dates" were special to her. He'd made her feel good. Now, the fact that she'd started off wanting a family-and that just wasn't going to happen on a secretary's salary in New York gnawed at her-but somehow, Gerald was able to make those worries go away.

That all died with Gerald after The Crash. It was still hard for her be believe that in one day, most of what she had taken for granted had simply evaporated. What had been the United States, was now a patchwork of countries she had never heard of-with strange alliances that defied her belief system. The idea that Muslim insurgents would storm Wall Street-with Confederate air support still struck her as completely bizarre. She still couldn't believe that these Muslim insurgents had executed Gerald for 'usury'--and that she had been required to watch his beheading. 

Since then, life had gotten rather drab and dreary. Gone were her days in restaurants and theater. Her life consisted now of the kind of housework she most despised-surrounded by other women in a "dormitory". News was scarce and mostly came from "The Ministers" that came to teach their particular brand of Islam. She had to admit though that most of them _were_ rather nice looking young men. What was strange to her was that none of were feminine approaches got much in the way of response from any of 'The Ministers'.

Carol, an old friend was the first to tell her of the "way out". At first it seemed too strange to be true. Carol said that there was an alternative to "re-education" that had just been implemented. The choices for destination were rather limited-the Free Republic of Alaska. Apparently, the free Republic of Alaska was shipping good to the Islamic Republic of New York in return for women!

The thought of Alaska made Sheryl cringe. She hated cold weather. She hated the outdoors. Still she hated this re-education camp more. What spurred this on was her rape. There was a rather large matron named Betsie. Betsie caught Sheryl alone in the dormitory bedroom on morning.

"Okay white bitch watcha doin sleepin late" "I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't mean to"

Well, you'll get to play toll for this lady" With that, Bestie lifted up her skirt and pinned Sheryls face. The aroma was rather overpowering. Sheryl had sex with some of the other women that worked for Gerald before. This was VERY different. Bestie's hygiene, frankly, left something to be desired. There wasn't much point in arguing though. Sheryl just had to make the best of it. Fortunately, Betsie was rather quick about her business. After she came, Betsie turned Sheryl over hand spanked her rather furiously.

It could have been worse. Sheryl wasn't permanently damaged, but she realized as long as she stayed in this "reeducation camp" she was at the mercy of the matrons. The way out? Well, it amounted to finding some man that was willing to pay her bond and transit fees to Alaska.

The Islamic Republic of New York was hard up for oil, timber and basic minerals to run the arms businesses that old government had built in that area. No one was quite sure why or how, but at this point the one way out of a reeducation camp was to talk to Alaskan guys on the internet and get them to cooperate.

The Fall



It was raining so hard that I could not see more than a few feet and just did see the calf as it rushed out of the dark and right into me. I went down from the impact slipped side ways and the next thing I knew I was in thin air and then falling. I had gone over the side of the cliff I had been working next to. I remember hitting the bottom after the 30’ fall and my back hurting as I slipped into darkness. I don’t know how long I was there when I felt the something pulling on me.

“OH GOD!” It hurt so badly.

“It’s ok I have you. I’ll get you home.” It was the voice of a woman. Again darkness.

The pulling on me woke me. “Please just let me be!” I was trembling uncontrollably. “Oh god my back!”

I opened my eyes in the dim candlelight of the room. It was familiar to me. “Shhh. I have to get these wet cloths off of you.” I looked at the voice not seeing anything as it pulled off my under wear then back to black.

The pain of the bed moving brought me back. “Its ok. I need to get you warm.” I felt the heat of her naked body on mine as she wrapped her arms and legs around me. I slipped back into darkness as she kissed me softly. “Your ok now. I have you.”

I opened my eyes to a slight movement. It was just daylight and her blond hair smelt of strawberries. God my back and side hurt, where the fuck was I? The slight movement woke me even more and I realized my dick was hard and pushed between her legs. It was warm and wet nestled up against her soft woman hood.

It hurt to breath so I just laid very still closing my eyes to stop the pain in them. She moved again only this time it was to pull away just a little. Her legs opened and I felt her little fingers as she touched my cock. She wrapped them around it as she pushed it between her swollen open lips. She slipped forward as she pushed it deeper between her lips and then slipped back taking me deep into her hot wet woman hood. She again laid very still moving nothing as her vagina adjusted to the girth of my 9” cock.

Her breathing became labored as I felt her fingers slide across her clit. She pulled away then pushed gently back into me trembling as she gasped, cumin as my cock slipped deep into her womb. Blackness.

The sun was streaming into the room when I opened my eyes. Now I realized I was home. There was a warm pack on my back and my eyes didn’t hurt so badly as I looked around the room. She was setting in a chair next to the bed looking out the window. I let my eyes run over her full lush body as the sun shone through her light cotton nightgown still feeling her from my dream.

“How did I get here?”

She looked at me with a slight smile as I remembered the dream of how it felt being in her. “I found you in the bottom of Willow Canyon.”

“You got me here by your self?”

“You didn’t come home so I knew something was wrong and went to find you. You are badly hurt but will be ok.” She stood up and the sun turned her thin cotton gown sheer letting me gaze at her. Her dark nipples were hard and pushed against the material and it did nothing to hide her thick blond bush. “I have some soup if you are up to it.”

“Yes,” I tried to move. “OH FUCK! Umm, I don’t think I can set up.”

“Just lay back. I’ll get it.”

She came back with a bowl of steaming liquid and as she sat on the side of the bed pulled her gown up high over her thighs. Her full lush round breasts pushed against the thin material and her nipples stiffened as I let my eyes run over them. She gave me a spoon full. “I think you broke 2 or 3 ribs. And I am sure you are going to be in bed for a few day’s.”

“I have to go feed the stock.”

“It’s all taken care of.” She gave me another spoon of soup. “It will all be ok. I just need you better.” I finished eating in silence and as I went to sleep I felt her naked and on me. I was sure it was in my mind as I felt her hands run slowly over my acing body. 

I don’t know how long I had been a sleep but when I awoke I was still lying on my side. I tried to turn. “AAAA!” The room went cold as I began shaking hard. She rushed back into the room.

“It’s ok!” She pulled her light cotton gown over her head revealing her naked body to me as she slipped under the covers. “Oh god! PLEASE! It’s going to be ok!” She was crying as she wrapped her self around me and again I felt her warmth as I slipped into darkness.

I opened my eyes to find her face so close to mine I felt her breath on my face as she slept. I kissed her softly. “Mary sweetheart.” Her eyes fluttered opened and she gave me the soft easy smile.

“What is it? Are you ok?”

“I really need to pee.”

“Ok.” She pulled her self from me and walked naked into the next room. She returned with an old pot.

“This should do it.”

“I don’t think I can do it!”

“Here just wait until I,” I felt her hot hand on my cock. “There you go.” I relaxed as the amber liquid began running into the pot while she held both it and my man hood in her hand. “My goodness you did need to go.” She smiled as she held me until I finished and then wiped the tip on a soft towel. She sat the pot to the side and slipped back into the bed with me. She again wrapped her self around me. “Now sleep my sweet. I need you well again.”

I woke to the first rays of the sun as they slipped through the window. My cock was again up between her legs and pushed deeply between her pussy lips. I felt dizzy from the pain as I eased back just a little. I had to do it! I moved until I felt her opening’ made a little adjustment and slowly slipped into her hot wet woman hood. “Uummm.” Came softly from her as the tip of my cock touched her womb. I pushed and the tip of my dick slipped into it. “Huuu!” Every move was like fire in my side so I laid very still letting my cock flex in her as I put my hand onto her hip.

Mary slowly pushed back into me. “Oh how long I have wanted this. If he only knew what he was doing.” She turned her head into the pillow. “Umm oh god. I want him to fuck me!” She groaned into the pillow as she slipped her fingers over her clit and fingered it as she had the day before. She began to cum milking me with her vagina muscles as she trembled in my arms. “Oh how I want you to fuck mmMMmmeeeeeeee!” she said again as the wetness ran from her and back over my cock and balls she moved away and then back getting a couple of small thrust as she came.

“Huaga!” I cam with her shooting deep into her!

“Oh my god! He’s came! I ho yes cum in me fill me with it!” 

She held steady as my cock throbbed deeply in her not moving the last of my seed seeped into her waiting womb and them gently she slipped away and out of the bed. She came back with a worm wet towel and began washing me.

“What are you doing?” I asked acting like I was just waking.

“You needed to be cleaned up. You have been in bed for three days now and have been sweating off and on.” She left and the sound of running water came to me from the kitchen as she poured it from the kettle she kept on the stove. She came back with a pan of hot water and started washing me again.

“Oh Shit!” I groaned as I moved tiring to lift my self up a little.

“Just be still.”

“You seam very at ease with me being naked like this.”

She looked at my face in the early light. “You don’t seam to mind looking at me either.” She stood up smiling. “Besides we have both seen each other naked bathing for years.”

“Yes but you have never had to touch me when I had my bath before.”

She dumped the water out of the window into the tiny flowerbed she loved so much. “I don’t mind.” She came back with a clean towel.

I felt my cock lengthen as I looked at how the sun sparkled in her full bush. “Can you help me set up?”

“No. I got word to the doc. and said to keep you flat and that I was to watch your head wound. She will be here this afternoon.”

I put my hand on her thigh as she stood looking down at me. The warmth of her soft skin almost burnt my fingertips. “I, umm, well.” My dick was sticking up like a steel poll. “I am sorry.”

Mary looked down at it and smiled. “Its ok.” She slipped her sundress over her head covering her nakedness. “I kind of like it.” She started to the door. “I have chores to do. Doc. Wilson should be here about noon.”

I could still smell her as I fell a sleep.

“Wake up Sam.” I was being shake slightly. “I need to get a look at those rib’s boy.”

I opened my eyes looking for Mary. “Oh, hello Doc.”

“Well hello to you. Look I am not going to mix word with you Sam. You are pretty fucked up. You have at least four broken rib’s and a bad concussion.” She threw her hand up pointing her thumb over her shoulder. “That girl of yours saved your dumb ass you know?”

I just nodded yes at her.

“She has you wrapped up good and I can tell by the way you are looking around the room you are seeing things ok. You need to stay in bed for four or five days and then only move around here in the house.” She sat down on the bed. “You got your crops in?”

“Yes but I have the herd to take care of.”

“Mary is doing fine and to be honest from the way she talked when I talked to her I think she is proud of what she is doing.” She stood up. “I’ll be back out this way in about a week and will stop in.”

“Ok Doc. Bring some rope with you and I will give you a good beef calf to take back into the butcher.”

She smiled at me. “How about I bring my old heifer out and you let that bull of yours at her instead?”

“Deal.” I smiled at her. “Is Mary out there?”

She reached for the doorknob. “Yes and I’ll send her in, in just a minuet. I need to tell her how to kick that ass of yours to keep you in bed.” She laughed as she walked out the door. “See you in a week Sam.”

===========================

It was a full month before I could get out side. Much to my disappointment Mary started sleeping in her own bed and we had not touched each other cense the day the Doc had came out. She had taken care of the farm as well as me and not complained one time.

It was about mid morning on a nice fall day when she walked up from the barn. “I am going down to the pond and take a swim. It looks like winter will be on us soon and it might be the last time I get a chance this season.”

“If you walk slow I’d like to go with you.”

“Ok. I’ll bring some soap and you can get a bath to.”

We walked slowly to the pond and even thought it was only about a quarter of a mile it took a long time to get there and I was sweating like a pig. All I was wearing was my nightshirt and Mary helped me pull it over my head then pulled her cotton summer dress over her head freeing her 36 c breasts. She pushed down her long pantaloons and as we stood naked before each other she smiled as she watched me let my eyes run over her 28 year old body.

“God Mary you are perfect. You have no idea what it does to me when I see you like this. I mean after all I am a man you know?”

She took my hand as we walked slowly to the water and then out into it. “Oh trust me I know that you’re a man all right.” She laughed nervously. “Maybe it makes me feel funny to.”

“If it bothers you I can cover up and wash after you go for your swim.”

“It isn’t that kind of bother.” She looked deep into my eyes. “I am just as much a woman as you are a man you know.” By now we were waist deep in to cool water. “Here let me wash you.”

I stood still as she scrubbed my body and tried not to act to horny as she reached my achingly hard cock. She began to laugh. “Every time I see this thing it seams to be sticking out like this!”

“Sorry, but I can’t help it you know.” I threw caution to the wind and in a way that didn’t hurt my ribs to badly as I pulled her up to me mashing her breasts into my chest as I looked into her eyes. I kissed her upturned face sucking in her tinder lips then feeling her tongue on mine as it slipped into my mouth. I stepped back thinking she would pull away, but she didn’t. She clung to me as I looked at her. “I couldn’t help that either.”

“Walk out deeper, please!” I did as she asked and when the water was up to my chest she lifted her self up and as she wrapped her legs around my waist guided my throbbing iron bar slowly and deeply into her waiting woman hood.

Her eyes as her nose flared as she closed her eyes and she took a deep breath. “Oh god Mary we can’t.”

She again covered my mouth with hers kissing me to shut me up as she began a slow steady back and fourth fucking her self on me. The pain in my rubs was bad and I let out a soft groan into her mouth as we rocked in the water. She pulled back looking at me as I cupped her ass in my hands holding her as best I could.

“Am I hurting you?

“Yes but God don’t stop!” She did any way and I slipped out of her as she let her legs drop to the lakes sandy bottom.

She moved back into me kissing me as her hard nipples dug into my chest. “Come on I think I know how we can do this.” 

We got into the water that was just waist deep and Mary stepped in front of me as she reached for my cock and as she bent at the waist she guided me into her. I pushed slowly going back into her feeling her hot woman hood stretch and open for me as I did. I went in as deeply as I could and when I reach bottom she began an easy back and fourth back and fourth. I felt her fingers as she began touching her clit rubbing it furiously.

“O I am so close! Oh God yes fuck me! Oh, oh, ohaaaaaaa!” She screamed as she came on me. Pushing pulling driving me over the top with her. I held her hips as I pushed into her. Each jolt of cum shooting out of me was like a canon going off in side her.” “HHOOoooooo yes, oh god I feel you doing it oh! Cumming in oh yesSSssssssss!”

Mary stayed bent over resting her hands on her thighs as we caught our breath not standing up until I softened and slipped out of her. She turned looking at me with a smile that turned into a worried look as she looked at me. “Oh shit you are as white as a ghost! Are you ok?”

“Yes I just need to set down.”

“No! If you pass out I can’t get you up.” We had walked to the water edge. “Can you stand there for just a minuet?”

“I will try.”

I couldn’t help my self as I watched Mary take of running up to the barn. Every muscle in her naked body flexed as she ran and a little cum seeped out of me as I watched. She was back just a few minutes later with the wagon and horse. 

“Set down here.”

I did as she asks setting on the back of the of the wagon and she walked the horse back to the house. She came around and helped me as I slipped of the wagon and still naked we walked into the house. She helped me into the bed and started to turn away when I stopped her. 

“We need to talk.”

“What about?” She smiled at me as she sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“About the fact that I love you. About the fact that it kills me every time you walk out of the door because I want you with me all the time.” I let my hand run over her smooth thigh. “About the fact that I am 20 years older than you and about you needing a younger man.”

“What are you saying to me?” She asked as she leaned in and kissed me softly.

“That I love you.”

Mary lay beside me kissing me softly and then whispered. “But you have nothing to worry about.” She took my cock in her hand holding it like it was made of gold. “You see I love you to and now I have all I have ever wanted. I have the man I love, I have you dad.”



The Fall



Authors note: This is a Victorian Alt Universe type of story. Most of the "toys" and people I mention existed during the Victorian era, however some things were invented a few years after 1866. Please be patient with me. ;)

Pity my homegirl Brenda for having to beta this, and put up, with my abuse, of commas.

**Warnings:** This story includes femdom, drug use, BDSM, anal play, urethral play, nonconsensual sex acts, rampant misogyny, and a bunch of other nasties that I haven't decided on yet.

***~~~SS~~~***

~ Dr. Jonathan Maxwell's office -- London, 1866 ~

Jonathan sighed; today was dragging. Mrs. Parvoy left only moments ago and his last patient of the day was due in the office in ten minutes. Thinking of little Nettie, he shuddered internally; the silly girl sobbed almost the entire time she was in the chair. He didn't understand why, as he was the one suffering the indignity of having to give her a massage for nearly 90 minutes. His hands were aching. He grit his teeth, the things he would go through just to get into the upper class' good graces.

How someone like Victor Parvoy put up with the little chit was beyond him. However he had heard rumors that the young man had recently taken the beautiful Emma Frances on as a mistress, but nothing was confirmed. Considering the Frances woman's assets and the way she flaunted them, he assumed that a lesser man would be able to forget his wife with her.

But Jonathan Maxwell wasn't a lesser man. With new patients each day, and the word of his success rate spreading, he was slowly but surely working his way through the middle class. If this continued, his son would be able to attend university when he came of age. And perhaps someday they would be accepted into upper class society. It would be as "new money", meaning they would still be looked down upon, but his son would marry well and he would be taken care of in his old age. His hands were sure to be arthritic by then.

Whenever he thought of his son, it conjured up images of his late wife Edith. Now she was a fine upstanding woman. She lay with him at night, did her wifely duty quietly until he finished, and most importantly, never ever complained. He would never have had to treat her for hysteria - Edith knew her place in the world. There were days, like today, that he missed her terribly.

Shaking his head to clear the depressing thoughts and focus on work, Jonathan dropped his utensils into a boiling pot in the corner to clean them. No, he didn't give any credence to those charlatans that stood outside the medical college; he just liked his instruments to shine. Louis Pasteur be damned.

Walking back over to his desk while cracking his knuckles to ease the cramping, he looked over at his notes for the next patient before her arrival.

Miss Eliza Wesley Age: 26 Referred by her family. Notes: Former fiancée of the late Dr Clinton Lambert. Suffers from severe hysteria. Possibly brought on by masturbation, although this has not been proven. The family states that if I am unable to cure her of this blight, she will be referred to Dr Isaac Baker Brown for immediate surgery, and then will attend classes and lectures on morality. Her symptoms are as follows: Willful, irritable, energetic, prideful, and unable or unwilling to accept her place within our great society.

Jonathan frowned. Unlike many other medical professionals, he greatly admired Clinton Lambert's work, and had wanted to attend one of his fitness camps up in the wilderness near Latchford. It was really a pity that the man had been killed while out running three years prior. A bear attack had to be a terribly painful death.

It was also a shame that his former fiancée seemed to be mentally impaired, possibly by something as insidious as masturbation. This whole episode of hysteria had to have brought on by Lambert's death; he had no doubts that before then she was an obedient creature by nature. To be a member of the prestigious Wesley family and engaged to someone as well known as Dr. Lambert she had to have been upstanding.

Sitting down in his chair, he felt a grand daydream coming on. If he were able to cure her, word could spread even further about his humble practice through the upper classes. He might even be able to hire two more doctors! Yes, two doctors fresh out of school that would deal with his troublesome hysteria patients while he dealt with important issues like surgery and nervous system research. He smiled, and allowed himself to drift for a short time.

~22 minutes later ~

Jonathan angrily narrowed his eyes as he glanced at his pocket watch again. The damnable woman was over ten minutes late! How he hated tardiness. Well, perhaps she was too faint to make it. If that was the case, he could forget curing her, she could only be helped by the hands of Dr. Brown! Taking in a deep breath to soothe his anger and attempting to take his mind off the rudeness of his new subject, he let his gaze wander around the office. He noted with satisfaction that, while cluttered, everything therein was spotless and in its place. Just the way he wanted it. He absently arranged the inkbottles on his desk from large to small to insure that order was kept.

A knock broke into his musings, and Jonathan strode over to the door to open it. Henry, his sometime assistant, was taking the overcoat and hat of an older gentleman, while a woman he assumed was Eliza Wesley was slowly shrugging out of hers. Her back was facing toward him, but he could see that she was of lean build, and held herself with her back straight and head high. Like a *man*. This wouldn't do at all. Women were supposed to be soft and meek, not filled with confidence and pride. Obviously he had his work cut out for him.

"Mr. Wesley, it is good to finally make your acquaintance." Jonathan shook his hand, "What can you tell me about Miss Wesley's condition?"

As the good doctor and her uncle walked into the examination room and began to talk quietly, Eliza shoved her overcoat into the arms of the confused redhead and angrily glared at the two men through the open doorway. Just like all the other bastards, this one didn't acknowledge her presence either.

"My niece has been having troubles since her fiancée's death. Our family has tried everything to get her to behave properly, but have thus failed. She has already seen six other physicians with no results. It's gotten so bad that we've had to acquire a separate flat just so her behavior does not contaminate the minds of my young daughters." The man shook his head sadly, "I'm sorry to say that if you fail Dr. Maxwell, it will mean that she has fallen to the moral disease of masturbation, and I will have no other choice but to bring her to Dr. Brown for treatment."

"I understand." Being honest with himself, Jonathan didn't particularly like the idea of sending anyone to Dr. Isaac Baker Brown, as a physician, he heard things about the man that the public was still unaware of. 

"My wife and I will await your diagnosis, and will make further arrangements if necessary."

Assuring him that he would do his absolute best to help his niece, he bid the man farewell, as treatment would last hours. Jonathan also promised that he would insure her return to her flat afterward. As it was already late in the evening, he dismissed Henry as well, it made no sense to pay him hourly to do nothing but sit around gathering dust. Motioning for the young lady to come inside the examination room, he sat at his desk and began his assessment of her state.

Eliza Wesley was roughly a head shorter than he was, with skin like ivory, brown hair, and gorgeous blue eyes that flashed at him with anger. Gorgeous? Preposterous. She was a woman under severe mental duress. He shook his head mentally and began to make notes in his file. 

"Miss Wesley, I understand that you were once engaged to Dr. Lambert. I admired his work." He stated absently without looking up, if only to make small talk. It was always good to make the patient feel at ease.

Eliza was surprised; most other physicians thought Clinton's ideas about physical fitness and diet were bunk. If the good Dr. Maxwell only knew that her fiancée only pushed himself to be fit just so he could keep up with his other vices, he would probably choke on his own spit. She chuckled inwardly. And if he knew that some of Clinton's more wild behaviors rubbed off on her, he would definitely not have sent his cute but dim-witted assistant home. 

She also was acutely aware that if Dr. Maxwell failed to "cure" her, that she would be sent to that madman uptown. Clinton had called him a butcher. Well, that was just not going to happen. She was never going to be tamed, and she was not going to Dr. Brown. Acting the part of a subservient woman was easy, but inevitably she would wind up married, the truth would come out, and she would wind up in the same position she was in now. No, the best course of action was still to have a doctor in her pocket in case of emergencies. And the man in front of her was the perfect candidate. 

Quietly, she began assessing Dr. Maxwell. He was young for a doctor, and once you got around the pompous personality he was really quite handsome. His black hair, light grey eyes, and pale skin nearly mirrored to her own features. He was not like the other physicians she had seen in the past few years. Most were too old, too fat, too unattractive. Letting them touch her was absolutely horrifying, but she persevered.

Watching how stiffly he stood while scribbling into his file, she surmised that while handsome, he was the typical specimen of a modern man. She knew the type well. Noticing his wedding ring, she surmised that he was a man who attended church every Sunday, has an exhausted wife from birthing too many children, and turns out pregnant maids from his employ. All while having a mistress on the side, and visiting prostitutes. One huge hypocrite. One very foolish hypocrite, she thought as she glanced back to the man and eyeballed the various bottles that sat on a shelf next to her.

"...lacks femininity and seems to be oblivious of her current predicament. Thus I must conclude that her intelligence, like most women, is below average..."

And this is why while Dr. Maxwell sat immersed in taking his notes; the predator he invited into his office was able to silently stalk up behind him, as silent as a cat. He didn't even have time to react as a delicate handkerchief was placed over his nose and all went black.

***~~~SS~~~***

Various A/Ns and random facts:

Hysteria was a "real" disease that women suffered from in the Victorian ages. Those considered to be suffering from it exhibited a wide array of symptoms, including faintness, nervousness, insomnia, irritability, loss of appetite for food or sex, and "a tendency to cause trouble". Women considered to be suffering from hysteria would undergo "pelvic massage" meaning the manual stimulation of the genitals by a doctor until the patient experienced "hysterical paroxysm" aka orgasm. It's a pity that most doctors were not very good at this, as many complained that it took hours. Thus with the invention of electricity, the vibrator came into existence shortly thereafter.

Isaac Baker Brown was a real person in the Victorian era. He was alive and working in 1866. He was a "specialist" in gynecology and developed the clitoridectomy as a cure for epilepsy and hysteria, which he attributed to masturbation. He was later ousted from his position in London when it was discovered that he was performing these surgeries without consent. However, the US was a little late in catching on that this man was a quack, medical texts until 1936 suggested the removal of the clitoris as a way to curb promiscuity.

Louis Pasteur is real, was alive in 1866, and he supported the germ theory with diseases. He is most known for heating liquids to kill bacteria, aka pasteurization. He only got a brief mention, but whatever.

***~~~SS~~~***

I accept all comments and constructive criticism - as I am an amateur author and still learning. 



The Fall



She was aware of him watching her. 

A tall man standing at the entrance of a store, the busy street passing him by like a river around a standing rock. 

She knew him from somewhere, like a distant dream or a memory just out of reach. His gaze made her stop and stand still and they stood staring as the rapid traffic flowed around them. 

"Lisa," he heard her say but his mouth did not move.

The word seemed to hang in the air like a breeze that does not abate. 

He turned and walked down the street, the people and faces around him like shadows to her now. It was as if he was the one solid point in the universe and all else was shadow. 

She could not remember how she had come to be here. She had been at home alone, watching the carriage of her fiance approach. There had been a unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach as she saw the man her father wanted her to marry. 

The man her father was making her marry, she did not love him at all. She could never love his cold cruel eyes nor his mind that seemed to know nothing beyond wealth and how to grow fatter on the blood of others. 

Then, there was a feeling like falling, falling down fast and then this man, standing silently watching her from across a crowded street. 

She followed him down a maze of side streets and back alleys, the world growing ever darker as she followed him on into the night. 

Lights burnt on the walls around her, guiding her in the dark places, his figure always just on the edge of her sight. 

She felt no desire to turn back, just a compulsion to follow him as the world grew darker and darker all around. 

At last he stopped at a door and waited for her. As she neared he stepped through the door and she followed close behind him into a small room. 

There was a table and two chairs in the room, a candle burning on the table cast a flickering light, as if it was the last of all lights and beyond it just void. 

They sat opposite each other and she noticed now the table was not wood but a pool of water, as still and reflective as a mirror. 

"Look," he said. "Tell me what you see."

She looked down and saw herself from above, not in this room but on her balcony watching her fiance drive up in his carriage. She gasped as she saw herself stand on the balcony rail and then fall down, spinning in what seemed like an endless fall. 

"I see myself," she cried. "Falling down."

"You are falling still," he said. 

"Then this is a dream," she said. 

"Your last," he said. 

"How long will it last?" she asked. 

He looked to his right and she saw a door now where before it was darkness. She turned back and the man was gone but his voice lingered in the air. 

"This moment for you is all that is left. When it ends you shall land and you will cease to be. This moment comes to all who die. One last moment, disconnected from time, your last precious moment of life. Make of it what you will."

And she stood and crossed over the threshold of the door and found herself naked now. She closed her eyes and felt the falling return to her stomach. Quickly she opened her eyes, knowing she could no longer rest, that sleep was death, an ending ever lasting.

She felt the room changing around her and understood her mind was transforming it. It became familiar, a room she had seen before many times. The room of her love, her true love, lying alone in his bed, exiled from her life by her father. 

He was poor but true hearted. A man who would have loved her forever, been her rock and her life. This was where he slept in his despair. 

This is where her mind had taken her, the place where she would spend her last precious moments and she knew how she would spend them. 

--------------------------------------

Her love stirred in his sleep. As the mist of sleep cleared from his eyes a white shape danced on the edge of vision. It was like dust dancing in a beam of light but even as he watched it swirled and gathered taking shape piece by piece until it was whole and real. Until it was his Lisa. 

Breathless he saw her glide naked into his bed and unbelieving but unwilling not to believe he felt her body become real, her lips touching his, her tongue dancing down his chest. 

She felt his life in his body, in his chest as it rose beneath her lips and then in his hard member as she kissed it, softly licking it as if trying to drink of his very being. 

He groaned and took her face into his hands and guided her back up to him. She closed her eyes as she sat upon his erection, feeling it enter into her body. 

But as she fell down upon it she felt herself falling again and opened her eyes for fear that this monent should end. 

Their eyes locked in a passion they had never known in life and she could feel him grow within her, a life force outside of her own. He raised himself up and sucked her breasts, the warmth of his mouth as she rose up and down upon him sending her over the edge into an orgasm, the first she had known. 

Her desire was not satisfied now though as he began to raise his hips to meet her. She was slick on his shaft and he penetrated deep within her being as his hands and mouth grasped desperately at her breasts. 

His breathing became heavy and she felt him tense and cry out as her vagina gripped him, another climax engulfing her and her eyes shut as she felt him empty his liquid within her. 

She felt herself falling again and knew she was near to the end. 

She opened her eyes and fell from his body, an uncontrollable desire to taste him coming over her. Her mouth engulfed his still hard penis and her legs crossed his body before she lowered her groin to his waiting mouth and felt his tongue flick at her slit then probe inside her wetness, their combined juices covering him. 

Her flicking tongue kept him hard and she began to suck him, delighting in the taste of his life. 

Their mouths worked on one another, her spit lubricating him and making him slippery in her mouth as his erection sunk deep into her throat. Her wet pussy soaked his face as orgasm after orgasm rocked her, as if she was expending a lifetime of passion within this one last encounter. 

Finally she felt his climax build, rising up through his shaft wrapped tightly in her lips. It burst inside her mouth and flooded her as she screamed, her last orgasm vibrating through her body. 

And even as he lay there beneath her on the bed she faded before him. He grasped at her being but it was like air now, swirling like atoms of light into the very air. 

She was gone.



The Fall



A short story about being stood up at the altar told from the man's point-of-view.

Seeing the hotel marquis welcoming Mr. & Mrs. Gregory T. Johnson gave me a reason to keep finding analogies. As empty as the first class seat next to me on the plane. As empty as the limo ride from the airport. Did "as empty as the heart-shaped hot tub" work as an analogy? I suck at coming up with a simile, metaphor, or analogy. I popped the top of the champagne bottle and began turning it into my next analogy. Before this evening was over, I would be able to say my love life felt as empty as this bottle of champagne.

"To my best man," I said, making my first toast of the night. Bubbly wasn't meant to be chugged. I released a long burp before pouring a second glass. "To HER best man!" I said, amending the toast and knocking back half the glass before the first tear started. Catching that tear in my tapered glass of sparkling wine made me laugh. "Crying into your champagne? How's that for a first world problem?" I should write that down. It would make a great gag for The Wilson Show, Tonight!

I couldn't blame her. Hell, why not? Michael Wilson's star was on the rise. He was gorgeous in that slick, dipped in plastic, Hollywood kind of way. He was funny, too. At least when he was reading the lines people like me wrote for him. We owed everything we had to his show. It was where we met. Where we fell in love. Hell, it was where I proposed. 

You probably saw it. We did it as a Youtube gag and Michael featured it on his show as "The World's Worst Proposal." It was a great bit, shot in the park near the studio. Personally, I loved watching her ring falling through that storm drain. Bill did a wonderful job filming that so it looked spontaneous and accidental. Of course, the funny part was the effort I put into fishing it back out. Such a simple gag made so much more endearing because of its context.

Beth's star began rising while it was still on Youtube. Everyone wanted to know who was the cute girl with the dimples. She had offers stacking up, offers she couldn't take until we aired the one-two punch of the reveal. Here's the behind-the-scenes story you didn't know: remember when I proposed to her on-air? Yes, it was a real proposal. No, it wasn't a surprise for her. Neither was fumbling the ring and having it fall beneath Michael's desk. Of course, Beth chasing after the ring was made all the funnier after establishing that Michael was doing the show without pants. 

You want more behind-the-scenes dirt? Michael really wasn't wearing pants that night. He was supposed to wear a merkin. (A merkin is a modesty covering actors often wear during nude scenes to maintain their privacy while still appearing nude. Think of it as a pubic wig.) His merkin fell off while he was undressing and the eyeful Beth received when she crawled beneath the desk was all Michael.

I don't know if Michael did it purposely. Of course, that was the rumor among the staff, a rumor that took on new significance after, well, after I was left standing at the altar. There really isn't an easy way to put that, is there? Michael was supposed to walk Beth down the aisle, not out the door of the church and into the limo waiting for Beth and I. Fucking prick. 

So yeah, I went on the honeymoon by myself. Why not? Michael had prepaid for the cliche Niagara Falls honeymoon suite. He made sure it included all the honeymoon suite cliches with a heart-shaped hot tub and a round bed. I was drinking champagne bought and paid for by the man who had stolen my bride. The least I could do was run up as big of a room service tab as possible. This trip was as close to a severance package as I would get before I quit or got fired.

I broke both champagne glasses in the fireplace. Wasn't that what you were supposed to do after making a toast? You threw the glass in a fireplace to seal the deal, right? I purposely overfilled the hot tub with bubbles. And yes, I jerked off on the red negligee laying on the bed while giggling like a drunken madman. By the time morning arrived, the room looked like the set of "The Hangover" without the tiger in the bathroom.

A gentle rapping on the door was followed by a tiny voice, "Housekeeping." I was sprawled naked on the big round bed with an empty champagne bottle. I made the mistake of opening my eyes to a ray of sun. The vampires were right, sunlight does kill. 

"Hold on," I groaned, rolling from the sunbeam and off the bed. Staggering into the bathroom, I pulled on one of the two robes hanging there. It read "Hers" across the breast. I didn't care. I stumbled to the front door, pulling it open to a very petite, blonde haired girl wearing a shy smile. She wore a maid uniform. She stood slightly behind her cart of supplies.

"I'm so sorry," she said, blinking as if she might recognize me from her TV. "I would come back except you're my last room for today."

"Bring it on in," I said, stepping back from the door. "Hell, I'll help." I started by picking up the soiled, red negligee and tossing it into a trash can. 

"You're that TV guy, aren't you?" she asked, keeping the door propped open with her cart. "The funny one."

"In the flesh," I said, giving her a grand flourish with my arms before realizing how my gesture made the short robe carry up past the level of being discrete. She had known me less than sixty seconds and had already seen more of me than most women do on a first date. "Sorry," I said, lowering my arms and realizing pants would be a good idea. 

"It's okay," she said, ignoring the flash I had inadvertently provided while heading to the bed. She pulled off the sheets, dragging the empty champagne bottle within reach and throwing it away.

"Sorry about the mess," I mumbled, picking up apples, pears, and oranges from the fruit basket. I had taken a single bite out of each and tossed them across the room. It took me a moment before realizing I was flashing her each time I bent for another piece of fruit. 

"It's not too bad," she giggled, averting her eyes while still stealing glances. I guess she assumed I was flashing her as a joke. "This room can get pretty scary at times." She replaced the sheets and pillowcases with the practiced ease of a professional. I marveled at how quick and precise her tiny motions returned order to chaos. 

She visited the bathroom and I was glad I had flushed after every use. The only towel used had been a hand towel. The only toiletry had been the bottle of hand lotion. Returning to her cart, she picked up two bottles of lotion. "Will two be enough?" she asked with sly smile that told me she understood why that was the only toiletry she was replacing.

"Better make it three, I'm flying solo," I joked without a smile.

"For whatever it's worth, I think Beth is a bitch," she offered, leaving a third bottle of lotion. 

"It was all joke," I lied. "Including her leaving me at the altar."

She smiled before shaking her head with a sad look in her eyes. "I can tell it wasn't." She pulled a new bottle of champagne from her cart. From an onboard ice chest, she refilled the bucket for it before plunging it inside. 

"How?" I asked, intrigued by her insightfulness. I sank into a chair in the sitting area, forgetting all I wore was a robe. 

"You can tell a lot of about the guests by how they leave their rooms."

"And when they don't leave their rooms?" I asked, reasonably sure we were breaking some kind of hotel policy.

"They're either hiding something, don't trust housekeepers, or . . ." she shrugged. I prompted her to go on. "Sometimes they're just lonely or hoping to get lucky."

"Which am I?"

"From the way you're sitting?" she asked, with that same little smile. I quickly crossed my legs, embarrassed. "It's okay, I know you don't mean it. You're just lonely. I'm sorry Beth did that to you."

"Maybe I meant it," I said, realizing I looked like a hot mess, in need of a shave and a shower. 

"Then do it again," she dared, strategically positioned between her cart and the door. 

"You mean this?" I said, hanging an ankle over one knee while stretching out my arms on the back of the chair. I tried to look as casual as possible. 

A faint blush rose to her cheeks as she giggled. "Okay, you win. You're lonely and horny and my work is done here." Before leaving, she left two mints on my pillows. She dragged her cart outside the room and closed the door behind her.

Like a shot, I darted to the door and threw it open. "Tell me you'll have dinner with me tonight."

"You'll have dinner with me tonight," she repeated, perfectly rendering the joke.

"Say, in my room?" I pressed.

"In my room?" she repeated, still going for the joke.

"Mine's probably nicer. How does seven o'clock sound?"

"Bong, bong, bong . . ." she said seven times while pushing her cart down the hallway. That's when a funny thing happened to me. I realized I was smiling.

I'm a comedy writer and bit performer on "The Wilson Show, Tonight!" I show up when they need an Average Joe to play the buffoon. I fit the bill too perfectly with my average build and usually unkempt cheeks and hair. Assuming she was a fan was the only way I could explain how things had gone late this morning. Still, I spent the day doing my best to look good for her. I pre-ordered room service and kept the champagne on ice.

She knocked softly on my door a few minutes before seven. Could she guess how much of a relief it was when she arrived early? "Housekeeping," she called. I swung open the door with a big grin and invited Lindsey inside. She wore jeans and a nice top that accentuated the gentle curves of her petite body. Makeup was kept light and simple, more a suggestion of color than painted on with a trowel. Her straight blonde hair hung straight and flat while moving like a curtain. I liked her bangs. "I'm not really supposed to visit guest rooms when I'm not clocked in."

"Then go punch in," I suggested. 

That earned me a tiny smile. "I'm glad you see you dressed."

"Don't worry, I used my own towels so you won't have to work so hard tomorrow."

She tilted her head, trying to work out if I was serious or kidding. "That would make a good bit."

"I was just thinking that!" I said, darting for a piece of paper and scribbling down the kernel of comedy about a guy who uses his own towels and packs his own toilet paper. "Would people get it if the towels were the same as hotel towels?"

"Maybe," she said, sitting on the couch and watching as I scribbled at the desk. "Especially if it was a full set: big towel, hand towel, and then a wash cloth folded into a fan."

"He should bring his own toiletries, too, shouldn't he?" I suggested, capturing as much of the idea as I could. Good ideas are too precious to waste. 

"Including a really oversized bottle of hand lotion," Lindsey quipped. "Like jumbo sized, but everything else should be hotel room sized. A tiny shampoo, tiny conditioner . . ."

"And the giant sized bottle of lotion!" I said, instantly picking up on the humor. "Genius!"

"He should start by throwing away all of the hotel supplies, including the towels. That would make every housekeeper in the audience groan because we hate when people throw away towels." 

"Why?"

"Because we have to fish them out of the trash and give them to laundry services."

"Ew, really?" I asked, suddenly wishing I had brought my own towels.

Lindsey laughed. "No. If it's in the trash, we don't touch it. That's gross as hell and I don't want to know what made a towel so nasty you felt like throwing it away."

More importantly, though, she had gotten me. That wasn't easy to do. I laughed and opened the door for room service. With Michael paying, I went all out. I ordered full dinner service that included setting up a table with two chairs and a waiter who stood discretely to the side. Not knowing what she might want, I ordered one of everything. 

"So wasteful," she giggled, enjoying the trays of choices.

"So was what I did to that negligee last night," I quipped.

"Please tell me you didn't try it one first."

"Did you want to see the pictures?"

Lindsey laughed, instantly recognizing my throwaway line as the joke it was. Biting back her laughter, she gave me a serious look, "Actually, I really would." She was able to hold the serious look long enough to make me flinch before we both laughed.

We laughed. So much magic in such a tiny sentence. Two words. Nine letters. Noun followed by verb. Nothing else needed. We laughed. Before the champagne. Hell, before dessert. We laughed and I healed as joy poured back into my oh-so-recently discarded heart. The champagne began with the orgasmic popping of the cork and two friends shared that bubbling broth. Midway through the bottle, we laughed and I wept with happy tears.

"Watch this," I howled as I felt a tear rolling down my face. "I wrote this joke last night: The ultimate first world problem." I caught it in my glass. I held the glass in front of my face, staring at the bubbles, unable to see the tear. My smile faded. "It was funnier last night."

"No, it wasn't," Lindsey said, taking the glass from me. She placed it top of the fireplace, either out of reach or on display, I wasn't sure which. Coming back to our private table, she passed her glass to me. "Drink from mine, but please, only sip from here." She pointed to the faint impression her lipstick had made on the glass. As I reached for the glass, she pulled it back. "I'm serious. Promise me you shall only drink from here." She again indicated that slight stain. 

"I promise," I said. She moved to give me the glass once more before pulling it back. Was this a game? I couldn't be sure as she topped off the glass with more champagne. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I anticipated her pulling the glass away once more. Instead, she didn't offer it. Instead, she gave me a solemn look.

"Would you like to know why you must drink from only here, where my lips have been?" she asked and I felt it building. There would be a sage-like bit of advice. A moment of sincerity like dessert to the meal of our mirth. I nodded, waiting for it. "Because otherwise it's messy," she said, planting her lips on the far side of the glass, tipping it and pouring champagne down her front. 

I should have seen it coming. It was an old joke well played and ended with laughter. I pointed to the stain on her pretty blouse, "Keep your glass, it looks as if someone has a drinking problem!" I picked up the bottle, tossed it back, when she tapped the bottom of it, pouring more champagne into my mouth than I was ready to handle. And again, we laughed. 

It had taken three food carts to bring one of each entree to my room. We had long since dismissed our waiter, but he left behind the cart filled with desserts. We attacked that cart, filling our dining table with every sweet delicacy offered by the kitchen. Lindsey started it. She built a sundae from slightly melted ice cream, whipped cream, and a cherry on top. When I wasn't looking, she flinged a dollop of whipped cream at me. "Oops," she giggled. I immediately returned fire with a bit of meringue from a cream pie. That earned a splattering of pudding on my cheek but before I creamed her with a handful of Jello, I hesitated.

"Wait, you work here," I said, concerned about destroying the room.

"I'm off tomorrow," she giggled and expertly tipped my handful of Jello into my face before a food fight broke out that would make all three of the stooges proud. Somewhere in the middle of that food fight, there was a kiss, followed by a second and a third. And soon dessert topping became body paint and tongues became eager paint brushes. "You know, I saw everything this afternoon when I was cleaning your room."

"And you still came back," I said, kissing her messy face.

"Like I said, you know I saw everything," she said as her hand slipped between my legs. "We should shower first." She led me towards the shower by "my everything." 

"Was this why you came back for dinner?" I asked, ever hopeful that my manhood could inspire such sluttish behavior.

"Partly," she said, stepping into the big, glass shower and pulling me along. "Mostly because I'm a sucker for a sob story."

"Interesting choice of words," I grinned as the smeared food left her face and her natural beauty re-emerged. 

"And, because you're famous," she added, throwing me into a tailspin as I realized she was a groupie. 

"Really?"

"Plu-eeze," she chortled. "Have you ever seen that show?"

"Right answer," I laughed before she slipped down my body and demonstrated just how much of a sucker she could be. I pulled her to her feet before I reached the punchline. Fluffy towels waited for us before we began rolling around on a circular bed. Every bit of her tasted divine, from the cherry-like red of her stiff nipples to the sweetness between her legs. Laughter was replaced with appreciative sighs and soft moans as body parts merged with the same amount of joy.

We did all the things that should happen in a bed designed for honeymoons. We took turns on top with our kisses and our bodies. We gave each other a reason to need a second shower in the morning. And when that sunbeam found our naked bodies entwined, I knew the vampire curse had been lifted. 

After another shower, I wanted to tidy up the room before we left. "I know the maid and she's a bitch," Lindsey insisted with a rakish grin that suggested a score to settle. We ordered clothes brought up to her from the hotel gift shop and shopped wearing matching robes. Too bad they didn't sell underwear at the gift shop since we had a date on the Maid of Mist and heard it can wet on that boat. 

Before leaving the room, Lindsey carefully poured the champagne from my glass back into the bottle. She put the cork in it and carried it with her. That tear would have the chance for last fall.

This is the first time I've tried the Romance. As I studied the category list for where to place this little story, Romance felt most right. I'm hoping that was a good choice and my story didn't disappoint too much. Comments are always appreciated and thank you for reading!



The Fall: a Codeine Lane Adventure



Disclaimer: I'm not a misogynist, though this story may convince you otherwise. Fantasies are fantasies, bro. Please practice safe, sane, and consensual sex.




The Barrens district of Angel City sprawled out in front of Rebecca "Codeine" Lane. Almost every building in the place was a "habitation unit" repurposed from aggressively rectangular deep space shipping boxes, covered with haphazard corrugated metal patchwork. Yet this was still not the worst neighborhood in town because during the war, the city had been subdivided into many smaller districts in a vain attempt at keeping order. When the corporate Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation forces had pulled out, the local authorities were swamped with desperate men and women fighting to leave the frontier or carve out their own bloody fiefdoms wherever they could. That helped ex-mercenaries like Rebecca fall off the official radars and even carve out a little niche for themselves in the city's burgeoning underworld springing up around neglected hamlets just like this one.

The occasional rape and murder had been distressingly routine before Rebecca's organization had expanded into this region but drug dealers, prostitutes, and sex clubs were still welcome enough. As Rebecca slipped through the grime of the place, her tanned nut brown skin shone in the midday sun, as her muscular six foot frame cast a long shadow across the dirt ground. She was unbelievably graceful, especially in spite of her giant, unnaturally perky 48JJ breasts. Her stride showed no hesitation or shame, even though she wore nothing but a thick layer of plastic wrap with holes cut out for her boobies, though the streets were deserted. The tight fabric crushed the roots of her breasts, trapping blood in them, making them look even bigger than they usually were. She finally stopped in front of an industrial prefabricated building with a frayed wooden sign that read "Jones Gulch Catholic Church and Youth Center." Quivering with excitement, Rebecca thought about all the freshly legal boys her friend Sammy had gathered for her inside. 

Pushing through the front door, she pirouetted towards the cafeteria where she heard a small chorus of teenaged boys singing,

"Lunch time has come
The meal is spread
Thanks be to He who gives us bread
We thank thee lord"

Rebecca kicked past the cafeteria doors and belted out,

"Fuck time has come
The whore is fresh
Thanks be to she who gives us head
We spank thee whore"

Silence and a few nervous giggles greeted her as Rebecca strutted through the cafeteria swaying her ass and bouncing her tits with halting steps as she grinned and at batted her eyelashes at the boys. Wading into the boys at the center of the room she stopped and shouted, "I'm a stupid cunt but even I know how important it is to get you fine young gentlemen off to a good start these days."

"My name is Rebecca," she continued. "I'm here so that you boys learn about sluts like me. I am a slut. Sometimes I prefer cunt because that's what's most important about me. As for what's important to me, I am a fucking cumslut who will do anything for cum. You will treat me like the cunt I am and you will learn to treat other sluts exactly how you treat me. This is what you will be practicing on," she said as she grabbed each of her massive tits and shook them at the boys. 



Rebecca smiled as twenty boys cheered, then quickly dipped her head to catch her right nipple with her teeth. She jerked her head up, stretching out the hard nipple and lifting her breast completely off her chest as boys whistled and whooped, eyes watching her every jiggle. Slowly opening her teeth, she let the nipple drop and laughed as her fat boob bounced up and down, swaying across her torso.

"I'm not a little girl like the proper young ladies at your school. I'm a fully grown fuckpig! Stick cocks in all of my fuck holes. I'll do anything that you have ever dreamt of. Fuck me hard just how I love it and I'll show you what a great cocksucker I am! But if you really love me, I want you to hurt me while raping me."

Rebecca slid her hand between her breasts down to her gash and smiling she dipped a finger into her cunt, looking directly into the eyes the young boys crowding around her. She grinned seductively as she slid the dripping finger into her mouth, sucking it clean with short thrusts of her finger. She grabbed a handful of her lustrous dark brown hair and held it up. 

"Do you know what my pretty slut hair is for? It's a leash perfect for dragging this fucking bitch around, that's what! Do me a favor and grab my hair to pull my cocksucking mouth away from one sloppy cock over to yours. Hell, you can fight over me using my hair as a handle! Think of something you want me to do, then just grab this whore's hair and force me do it. Do I have a pretty face guys? Well I need my face dripping with cum! Who thinks this fuckpuppet would be even better with loads and loads of your seed smeared all over her fucking face?

Rebecca laughed again as all twenty boys raised their hands. She paused for a minute, fully expecting the boys to sweep over her like a flood. Yet, though the boys yelled dirty things at her and clapped their hands, none approached. Frustrated, she dove onto the floor under the boys' tables tearing at every pair of pants that she could find on her hands and knees, frantically dragging her massive breasts beneath her. Her sudden assault annoyed the boys, so she earned a few kicks to the face, tits, and ass, plus a stray mousetrap snapped onto the side of her left breast. Despite this she could not get a hold of a single cock.

In a flash, an idea bitchslapped her stupid slut brain and she snapped upright, slamming her head against the bottom of the cafeteria table she was crawling under. By this time, the saran wrap around her body had been mostly torn away by her frantic writhing, and some of the more adventurous boys had finally started tearing away the rest. As her breasts came free of the saran wrap, blood rushed back into them, giving her some of the delicious pain she craved and clearing her thoughts. Thus, Rebecca spotted a graffiti strewn portrait by the side of the room that read "Teacher of the Year." She snatched it off the wall and held it above her head for all the boys to see. 



The immediate wave of boos told Rebecca all she needed to know and she smashed the picture frame on the floor. She quickly fashioned herself a paper bag mask with the teacher's picture glued to the front. Once again facing the crowd and half blinded by her shitty mask, Rebecca mauled her tits and everyone exploded with laughter as she pulled her silly giant tits up by the nipples and shook them. She grinned under the mask and knelt in front of a table, resting her immense funbags on the top. Taking up a discarded ruler, she clumsily began to slash at the top of her breasts with the wooden stick because she could not see well through her crude mask.

"I bet this nasty bitch beat your poor knuckles with a splintery stick just like this! Show her what you think of that! You boys need big tits bolted onto your whores, huh? That's awesome! I was hoping that you kids appreciated really big and fake boobies! This cunt loves when you play with her tits, but she likes them to be hurt best. Pull these fucking fun-bags off this slut! Twist these big fuckers and get as violent with them as your twisted minds imagine! You can crush and pull them with rusty pliers, you can jab needles in them...you can even light up some cigarettes and burn them! I don't give a fuck! I just need you to treat me like a rape toy because I am! Could some of you to fuck my big bolt-on balloons? Please! Wouldn't it be fun to snatch my fucking whore-tits and squeeze them around your cock so you can fuck them until you jizz all over my fucking face?"

Some of the older boys were the first to walk towards Rebecca, hastily pulling off their belts. They whipped their hard leather belts, buckle first, onto her huge slut-bags. This relentless assault barely raised welts on her perfect udders even though they jumped and slid all over the rough cafeteria table. She giggled and dropped her ruler. Minutes later, she moaned with disappointment when the boys dropped their belts and quit hurting her tits, but then a taller, heavyset boy sharply elbowed his way past some of the others. Through her mask, Rebecca did not see a thing as the schoolyard bully smashed his least favorite textbook onto her tits with a two-handed overhand slash like a samurai. As her boobs flattened out, she orgasmed and fell to the floor with a hard thud. Some overeager kids jacking off around her spewed cum all over her shitty mask which got soggy and plastered itself over her mouth, choking her. 

The bully tore off Rebecca's mask and held her head by the hair right in front of his big dick. Hungrily, she impaled her throat on his penis until the tip hit her tonsils. She was slurping messily on his cock when he started slapping her face, boxing her ears like an ancient British headmaster on old Earth. Her head rang like a bell but she held on his dick, licking and sucking with every thrust. She tightened up with every blow as her pussy leaked glistening juice all over the floor.

"Suck my dick, you fucking cunt! Take it all! I'm fucking your mouth like a two-dollar hooker! Open your throat, slut, I wanna fuck your tonsils. Gag on it bitch. Choke on it! Die! I don't give a fuck. You ready for some cum, whore? Pig?" the bully ranted as he pulled Rebecca's head all the way down the shaft of his cock, burying her face in his balls. In heaven, she immediately began licking his balls with her wickedly long tongue.

His legs shook as he emptied his balls into the back of her throat. Spurt after spurt of warm, thick, sticky cum splattered her windpipe. He pulled his cock from her mouth and wiped the last precious drops of his cum into her right eye and hair. With a strained gasp, Rebecca theatrically choked, sputtered, and puked until the big boy rabbit punched her in the face hard enough so that she stars. Reeling, she swallowed his buckets of cum with a noisy gulp. Immediately afterwards, she put her head at his feet, slurping up the cum and puke from the floor while he put his right foot on the back of her head.

"This slut is ashamed to have wasted any of your magnificent cum, master! I've mixed your wonderful semen with my nasty whore stomach juice. I'll clean every drop up with my worthless tongue," she said. 

Focused on her task, Rebecca did not notice the bully remove his foot; he had cocked back his leg in a classic soccer pose and goal kicked her in the side of the chest and tits so hard that she flipped over. She coughed up some of his cum and sighed. From her back, she looked up and smiled as the rest of the group began to encircle her. The mob of boys slowly started pulling their cocks from their pants as Rebecca stared hungrily at them and licked her lips, but noticed that they were still soft. They were also smaller teen sized cocks but that did not matter to her since a cock was still a cock and ruled her thinking completely.

Luckily Rebecca still had plenty of tricks to show off for the boys. She started fisting her cunt up to her forearm with her left hand and pushed her breasts up to her mouth to suck with her right hand. Just as planned, she was rewarded with the sight of her admirers rapidly stiffening. Sensing that they needed just a bit more encouragement she said, "Such magnificent cocks! So great and hard. Did this stupid slut get your dicks hard? Give them to me. Beat this slut to death with hard dick. Do it! Fuck this whore! Fill this bitch with cum!" As she spoke, she raised herself onto her knees, careful to put herself level with the boys' crotches, difficult given her height. She could already see one of the smaller youths on tip-toe. 

A boy poked his cock into her eye accidentally, so Rebecca slipped it into her mouth with a quick shake of her head, tossing her hair towards him. Getting the idea, he slammed her throat down his stalk by pulling on her shiny dark brown locks. Seeing other eager penises at the edge of her vision, Rebecca lifted her hands, still slick with girl cum, and snatched them. As she stroked them expertly with her fingertips, she shuddered with pleasure as the crowd got all of its hands on her. She spread her legs wider, giving up every inch of her body to the hands pulling, pinching and slapping her. 

Like the immature imps they were, the kids could not get enough of her transcendentally perfect breasts, which even now barely showed some thin welts and bruises. If anyone had the mental strength to focus, they would have seen some of the darker blue marks fade in seconds, leaving only pleasant red-pink welting. There was no danger of this happening since the closest boys were occupied with pulling, rolling and crushing her nipples with their fingers. They tugged Rebecca's melons off her chest while the surrounding boys swatted at their fleshy undersides to knock them out of the other kids' hands. Though to Rebecca's utter delight, the fight for space finally got the boys interested in her fuck holes.  

Probing fingers of all sorts of size and length slid in and out her cunt, as other strong hands clawed and pulled open the cheeks of huge, firm bubble butt. The boys roughly shoved one finger after another into her asshole as she wiggled invitingly. Some of the stronger teens became frustrated with the amount of effort needed to keep her open, so when his turn came to probe Rebecca he punched his hand into her puckered anus with a shrug of his shoulders. His hand sunk in up to his forearm, surprising him and causing him to corkscrew his hand around inside of her in confusion. She screamed and trembled with an orgasm, though since there was yet another cock down her throat, the scream came out as a slobber that made the teen she was sucking cum like a freight train with a load just as heavy. He pulled out in his excitement, splattering Rebecca's face in cum which she maneuvered into her eyes for a gently clarifying sting. 

The boy with his arm up Rebecca's butt sheepishly stopped moving his hand in shame and confusion because he had no idea what he had just done. Sensing his hesitation, Rebecca decided to encourage the shy fist fucker, "Come on, stud. You can't hurt this fucking slut. Fist fucking is when you shove your whole hand into some ignorant whore's pussy or butthole. Then you pump your arm back and forth like your cock. Sluts like me love how intense it is and how raw it makes us. Show the other boys how to do it. One of you smash your hand into my snatch, then pound it in and out. I'll go crazy for you!" The shy fist fucker, whose real name was Tommy, beamed as the other teens applauded and clapped him on the shoulder, so he resumed pumping his hand into Rebecca even faster than before. 

Feeding off the acclaim of his peers, like any good teenage boy, Tommy shed his shyness, shouting, "Take that, you fucking slut! Am I fisting you good enough, you fucking whore? Am I cunt? Answer the question, pig!"

"You're fist-fucking this slut right! I love it! Harder! Smash your fucking fist in and out of my slutty ass! Now somebody pound this fuckpig's cunt! Fist me into the ground!" Rebecca wailed as she came over and over while somebody did just that with her pussy. At one point she could have sworn that the boys double fisting her shook hands inside of her.

"Shut the fucking ignorant whore up!" Tommy shouted, and another boy hastily complied by grabbing her by the ears and pushing his thick dick into her mouth. The silence barely lasted a hot minute since he and Rebecca were so aroused he erupted with cum inside her skull after only twelve strokes, flooding her throat and sinuses with ball cream. Her head was so stuffed that cum leaked back out her nose onto the penis of the stunned boy. She swallowed and then snorted up the excess off the cock like a line of cocaine. He responded by slapping her head and mouth hard enough that she let her her head fly back into the hands of another boy. A flash briefly obscured her vision and the hand concealed her smirk. In a millisecond the nanomachine based non-Newtonian resin that permeated her brain instead of water thickened enough to completely mitigate the impact.

"You fucking lazy ass whore! The fuck's wrong with you? Making such a fucking mess. The next time someone cums in your fucking mouth, you better swallow faster than that! Understand COCKSUCKER!" he screamed as he hit her again.

Rebecca bobbed her head as if she was going to speak, but before she had the chance another pair of hands twisted her head towards another cock. She returned to hollowing her cheeks sucking dick, gently nursing and tonguing a boy or aggressively swallowing him down as necessary; she read their moods through their body language as easily as touching their skin. Groping around with her hands, she jacked off anyone she could find. She ground her hips against the hands of the people inside her even as they tried to use her like a puppet. She was a tempest of pleasure. As the boys in the mob tried out everything she had to offer, she also started sucking clean the hands of boys who had stuck them inside of her. Of course she was only one heavily augmented woman, so some teens had to settle for wiping off their cocks and hands in her pretty black-brown hair.  

After the wounds Rebecca had taken fighting for evacuation on this very planet, the infamous regenerative scientist Dr. Ysiv had implanted an experimental stem cell bioreactor into her chest among many other "health forward" modifications. The expansion of her chest to 48 inches was necessary; the JJ sized breasts were not. After taking her money to fix her up, Dr. Yisv had forcibly conscripted her into his pet supersoldier/fuckpet "Devil Doll" project, which itself was named after a lame pun about the ancient United States Marine Corps. The good Asiatic doctor was obsessed with big white girl titties, even if they were not actually common in Rebecca's home state of Kentucky. 

The rapid healing allowed by her enhancements had many tradeoffs, one of which meant that she was in a perpetual version of puberty with the altered hormonal mix that came with it. Rebecca often channeled her insanely heightened arousal into her current community service activities. Like a teenager herself, she pushed everything too far and took everyone else with her. For example, she had been pumping her altered sex hormones into her skin and sweat the whole afternoon which is what was driving these boys into a frenzy and allowing them to cum with such unnatural fury and regularity.

As the hormones subtly supercharged their base instincts, the bully who had started off this blowbang gave into his caveman instincts. This newly christened alpha male pushed through the crowd and silenced them with a loud grunt. With a sweep of his arm, the boys reluctantly let go of Rebecca one by one. The arms fucking her cunt and ass withdrew from her fuck holes with audibly wet smacks and the last dripping cock was gingerly removed from her mouth. Rebecca was pleased with herself as the bully grabbed her by her hair and started dragging across the cum slick linoleum of the cafeteria. Despite his size, he only managed to move Rebecca few feet until his arm began to tire. Unfortunately for his dignity, Rebecca was astoundingly heavy as a result of all her combat enhancements and none of the boys knew she easily outweighed three of them put together. His enthusiasm was infectious though, and pack mentality swiftly took over to help him out. Several of the mightier teens scooped up her arms and legs, carrying her spreadeagle to the backyard, heaving the whole way. Rebecca could do little but blow cum bubbles given all that she had just swallowed.




The Fall: a Codeine Lane Adventure



The back of the youth center was mostly just a muddy field of the soft, loamy soil common to that part of the planet, flecked with patches of the wispy local moss, colored a mild purple-green. It was, however, fairly large, roomy enough for a modest sports equipment shed and gymnasium to stand by the side. By far, the most striking feature of the rear of the building was a small stream that ran swiftly like blue glass snakes. The river was shockingly clean because it was too small for serious industrial use at about three car widths wide and the constant flow came down from the nearby mountains, which made it cock shrinkingly cold.

Rebecca saw the large upended rubber trash can only a few seconds before the bully led the boys to toss her over it, where her weight mostly crushed it into a mattress. The ruins of the can still lifted her hips up invitingly, her cunt glistening as she waited for the big bully to make the next move. She squealed as he roughly impaled the tight muscle of her anus and pounded away, forcing her chest and face into the wet loose dirt. "Fuck me back you stupid fucking gutter pig! Or do you like it there in the mud?" he yelled.

"Fuck the pig. Choke her throat. Spill your cum. Smash her into the dirt," the surrounding boys chanted, much like the pig hunting scene in Lord of the Flies, which Rebecca could barely half-remember through the haze of her lust.

"That's right! Fuck this whore's cunt and ass! Fuck this slut hard and make it hurt! Right over a trash can where I belong! Show me that I am a gutter whore! Somebody shut my dicktrap with your cock. Choke-fuck this bitch at both ends!" she interjected into the chant. The ass fucking bully was rolling her and the trash can with every hard thrust now, mashing her face and breasts into the dirt. Yet every time she was pushed down, she pulled herself up again, caked in dripping mud and howling like a banshee, a monster for the boys to slay with their cocks as hard as swords.

A tall, bronzed brown boy answered her challenge and Rebecca found herself facing down his massive dick muscle, as he took his place in front of her. The rest of his body was all wiry runner muscle like a Greyhound, in contrast to the Anaconda menacing her. He called out to the bully reaming her out from behind, "Hey Zacky, bro. I need the dirty bitch for a hot minute."

"Sure Danny," the bully known as Zack replied, pulling out of Rebecca with a wet smack, turning her inside out for a second. He let the slut know he was tagging out with a hard slap to her big cherry red butt. Reconsidering, he gave her a hard shove with both hands so that she pitched forwards over the trash can into the mud. Rebecca had just gingerly gathered her arms under herself to lift her body up when Zack nodded to Danny. Danny rapidly took over control by digging his foot into Rebecca's upper back, putting her squarely face down in the mud. He ground his bare toes into her back, matching her squirming and thrashing as she fought to breathe. As she arched her back, he bent down and snatched her thick hair in one motion, dragging up her head to face him from the floor. She gasped and gulped for air, shaking her huge tits with every breath, visible even though they were coated in viscous brown slime. Still holding her hair with his left hand, Danny slapped her back and forth, whacking some of the mud off her face, freeing her eyes and ears what came next. 

Danny tossed Rebecca's head up a bit using her hair as a lever, then seized her throat in his hands. Choking and shaking her, he said menacingly, "Your cunt and mouth are too filthy for me now pig! But you aren't dirty enough yet, are you slut? Get ready to suck my asshole as soon as I drop your worthless throat unless you need another lungful of mud!"

He stopped throttling her when he felt her hands scramble to grab his hips, so he turned and bent over. Rebecca pressed her face into his butt crack by pulling herself towards it with her hands. The pressure spread his firm butt cheeks for her, so she lapped up his taint hungrily, slipping her long tongue across the bottom of his balls and up back along the length of his butt crack. When she had removed every speck of dirt, Rebecca moved on by tightening her tongue up into a stiff roll and speared his asshole directly. Danny's legs trembled and he sighed, "Zack, get back in there and fuck that bitch up again."

Without hesitation, Zack slammed himself back into Rebecca's sopping wet cunny, driving Rebecca's tongue deeper into Danny's butt with every hard thrust. She moaned and twisted her tongue inside of him as she felt his legs shake and his cock stiffen even more. Zack tried to break Rebecca's rhythmic twists of her tongue with some particularly pussy crushing smashes, but this just made her exhale with pleasure straight into Danny. The added support from Zack let Rebecca reach around and grab Danny's cock with one of her hands. She stroked it hard as she continued to tongue fuck him from behind. Finally, Danny started to spasm, so she pulled her tongue out, making a wet plop noise. Once more she licked his balls, then his whole crack as he came. While Rebecca lunged and contorted to get at Danny's ass, the motion made Zack cum in her pussy hard enough to push the dregs of his seed out the side of her sex.

Danny was still weak kneed and staggered away. Zack pulled out of Rebecca once more, leaving her alone to whine about the lack of attention until he reappeared in front of her. "Clean it gutter whore! Suck all of your fucking ass slime off of my cock, back into you where it belongs bitch!" Zack roared into her face. Rebecca just giggled because she was tickled by a somewhat smaller and younger cock stirring up her holes experimentally, from behind. She looked longingly over her shoulder and watched as the rest of the crowd up the boys formed up an orderly fuck train line behind her, inspired by the Zack and Danny's example of how to use and abuse a whore. With a fresh grin on her face, she sucked Zack clean, running her tongue over and under every fold of his spent dick, depositing just a little more of her special hormones.

When Rebecca was sure that the cock was clean, she gently pushed Zack's penis from her mouth. One last time, Zack grabbed her hair, bending her face up as he spit right between her eyes. Disappointed, he spit again, directly into her left eye. "There's your tip, gutter slut. You make a passable cock cleaner."

Rebecca eventually serviced every boy present just like Danny and Zack over nearly an hour, until the lines disintegrated again into a free for all orgy and she became practically encased in cum. Her sore ass, nipples, and clit sent ripples of twisted pleasure to her brain as her body was violated over and over, while a torrent of filthy curses and names assaulted her ears. Every boy fucked her holes at least two to four times each, until every hole was raw and stuffed with cum. Her hair was stiff with ball cream. Jizz dripped from her nose and lips, cooling in the afternoon breeze. Boys spit on her and kicked her as she became too messy to fuck. Rebecca's world swam, but she continued to do anything asked of her even as the boys themselves reached the safe limits of their hormone enhanced endurance.

From the gym equipment room, Sammy watched his young teenaged charges tire themselves out abusing Rebecca. As he worked, his thick muscles pulsed under his childish t-shirt which had a cute fat raccoon on it; the raccoon looked like it was on the prowl for something with the same intensity that the boys had lusted after Rebecca's big breasts. Sammy was preparing an inflatable "body bag" to ship Rebecca back down river to her people, but he had to make the sure the bag was extra buoyant today. Rebecca had taken on extra weight to power her augmentations so that she could take a serious beating from the boys. 

As a result of all her combat enhancements Rebecca was astoundingly heavy on the best of days anyway. Most of these augmentations were geared towards extreme durability and regeneration considering that the most elite class of mercenaries on the frontier were the "Pilots" of urban combat walkers named "Titans." Unaugmented humans could not pilot Titans because they robots used punishingly strong thrusters to dash from cover to cover. The forces involved could, and usually did, break bones and collapse lungs in baseline human pilots. Rebecca loved to show off how tough she was. In fact Sammy had met her when she let the local police test all their new less-than-lethal technology on her enhanced body. She had let him sneak in a few speedbag rounds with her tits while the police reloaded their tasers and replaced their cracked truncheons.

Sammy walked over to the unconscious Rebecca and grabbed her by the neck and cunt, how she liked it, and bundled her up in the body bag boat. As he watched her float down to the Whore Pits, he drank some moonshine and imagined the lovely new fuckpig/human punching bag Rebecca would later reward him with for helping out with her filthy hobbies. She always knew how to pick the best ones from the new crop.



The Fall and Rise of David Beckman



Author's Note: Once again I want to thank Techsan for taking time from his busy schedule to edit this story for me. This is a lengthy story so I have divided it into four parts. 

Please provide feedback. It is the only payback we authors get for our efforts. Thanks

Part 1

I was too upset to sleep. Erica had actually called me a loser. True things had gone bad for me over that last two weeks but I wasn't a loser. I was in bed lying on top of the blankets with my hands behind my head as I reviewed the argument in my head.


I was having, without a doubt, the worst two weeks of my life. My boss had accused me of being either incompetent or unethical and had fired me. I was still confused about what had happened. On top of everything else, on Wednesday Erica came home and announced that she was going to Los Angeles for a week of training and that she would be leaving Monday morning. 

So on Sunday night I asked her to reschedule the class and stay home with me. To say that my request made her angry would be an understatement.

"You want me to give up this opportunity because you screwed up and lost your job?" Erica shouted. "You know my job is just as important to me as yours was to you and now that I am the only one of us with a job it's even more important." 

"I know this is important to you," I said. "I just thought that under the circumstances you could arrange to take that class later. I am not doing too well with this situation and I would like to have your support to help me get through this." 

"You're such a loser," Erica said. "This is your own fault. All you had to do was ask Bill to help you and this never would have happened. You just had to try and do this on your own and you fucked it up. Now you have lost your job and your self-respect. Well, don't expect to drag me down with you." 

As I lay there with my thoughts, I could hear Erica in the bathroom filling the tub for her bath. Erica likes long baths so I knew she would be in there for a while. I just hoped that when she came to bed she would be in a better mood. She was going to be leaving the following morning for LA and I didn't want us to still be angry with each other when she left.

While Erica soaked in the tub, I tried to make sense of what had happened to me.

*****

In 1993, I was a senior at Purdue University majoring in engineering with a minor in marketing. Two months before graduation I attended a job fair where I met James Green. Mr. Green was the personnel manager for Boswell Data Services, which was located in Atlanta, Georgia. Mr. Green was impressed with my resume and my grade point average so he asked me to come to Atlanta for an interview after graduation. The job fair had given me many good leads but Mr. Green's invitation to come for an interview looked at the time like the best opportunity. 

Two weeks after graduation, I drove from my home in Michigan to Atlanta for the interview. Mr. Green introduced me to Marty O'Brien, the sales manager, who then did the interview. Marty O'Brien was tall and thin with a full head of silver gray hair. I guessed him to be in his late fifties. The interview began with Mr. O'Brien telling me to call him Marty. We talked for about an hour and then Marty thanked me for coming in and asked where I was staying while I was in Atlanta and how long I planned to be in town.

"I'm staying at the Red Roof Inn out on I-75 and I was planning on being here for another day," I said.

"Good. We should have an answer for you by tomorrow," Mr. O'Brien said as he stood and shook my hand. He smiled and gave me a conspiratorial wink. "While you are waiting to hear from us, you might want to look around for a place to live."

That evening Mr. Green called me at the Red Roof and asked me to come back into the office in the morning. When I got there, Mr. O'Brien offered me a job as a sales representative. He explained the job and what I would be responsible for and then explained the salary and benefits package and asked me if I was interested. I happily accepted the offer. 

Mr. O'Brien wanted me to start on the first of July, which gave me two weeks to find a place to live and arrange to move myself from Michigan to Atlanta. That afternoon I managed to find a very nice apartment in Marietta. The apartment building was on a hill overlooking the Chattahoochee River with access to the walking and jogging trails that run along the river. I signed the lease that afternoon and spent the night sleeping on the floor and in the morning I drove back to Michigan to get my belongings. I was back in Georgia within the week and spent the rest of my time buying furniture and finding my way around the area.

When I arrived for my first day of work on the first of July, Mr. Green showed me around the facility and introduced me to the other employees that were in the building that morning. Boswell Data Services (BDS) sold computer hardware, software and services throughout the state of Georgia and my first two weeks on the job were spent in the classroom, learning about those products and services. I was also given training on how to properly execute a sales call. 

When I had completed my training, Marty O'Brien called me into his office and told me that I had done exceptionally well in the training and he felt that I would be very successful at BDS. 

"David, today I am going to have you ride with Jeff Henning on some sales calls," Mr. O'Brien said. "We will have you riding with him for the rest of this week and then you will get your own territory next week. Jeff will be in to pick you up shortly but before you go Mike wants to speak with you." 

"Mike?"

"Oh, that's right, you haven't met Mike Boswell yet," Mr. O'Brien said. "Mike is the owner and president of the company. Mike likes to meet the new people before they start out in the field. His office is upstairs at the far end of the floor. Just tell his secretary who you are and that Mike had asked to see you. Good luck, David." 

I shook hands with Marty and thanked him and then headed up stairs feeling a bit nervous. I was about to meet the president of the company and, while I was confident that I would make a favorable impression, I was still nervous. 

Mr. Boswell's private office had windows that looked out over the entire floor so I could see him sitting at his desk as I approached. He looked to be in his late forties or early fifties. He had dark but thinning hair and his body had the girth of a man that spends a lot of time sitting. 

Hi, I'm David Beckman, a new sales rep here," I said to the secretary. "I believe that Mr. Boswell wanted to see me." 

"Hi, David. I'm Marcie," she said. "I'm Mike's secretary. Welcome to BDS. I'll tell Mike you're here." 

Marcie picked up her phone and spoke briefly and put the phone down. "Mike will be with you shortly," Marci said.

I thanked Marci and sat down to wait. From where I was sitting I could see that Mr. Boswell was reading a Car and Driver magazine. I watched him for fifteen minutes until he put the magazine down and pick up his phone. 

"You can go in now," Marci said.

When I walked into his office Mr. Boswell stood up and shook my hand.

"David Beckman, right?"

"Yes, sir, that's correct," I said.

"Call me Mike," he said. "Have a seat." 

For the next ten minutes, we made small talk. Mr. Boswell showed me the Car and Driver magazine he had been reading and said that he was going to buy a new car and was looking for ideas to help him decide on what he wanted. Finally Mike got down to business. He talked about his company and how he only wants the best people working for him and he expects his employees to give 100 percent everyday on the job. 

I assured him that it was my intention to do just that. That's when Mr. Boswell knocked the wind from my sails.

"Jim and Marty seem to think highly of you. They seem to think that you are a good fit for the company," Mike said. I was beginning to feel comfortable until he continued. "I am not sure I agree with them. You are going to have to show me something if you expect to last around here." 

I felt like I had been hit in the stomach. Had I done something wrong to give him such a negative impression of me? I tried to think of something to say but could come up with nothing. 

"That's all. You can go now," he said.

I felt so bad as I left his office I wanted to quit. I was walking through the open bay area outside Mike's office when a young man approached me. He looked to be just a couple of years older than me. He was about my size, six feet tall and around 170 pounds. 

He had sandy blond hair and blue eyes. His look was friendly and non-threatening which was exactly what I needed at that moment.

"You must be David Beckman," he said. "I'm Jeff Henning." 

Jeff shook my hand. "You're going to be riding with me this week. Come on. Let's get out of here." 

I followed Jeff down to his car without saying a word. I was beginning to think that I had made a huge mistake coming to work at BDS. We got in Jeff's car and he pulled out of the parking lot and drove about three blocks and pulled into a coffee shop. 


"I think you need a cup," Jeff said. "I know I do." 

Jeff ordered two coffees and handed me one and then I followed him over to a table. When I sat down I realized that I hadn't spoken a word since I left Mr. Boswell's office. 

"Thanks for the coffee," I managed to say.

"I could tell you needed it," Jeff said. "I had hoped to talk to you before you met with Mike. I guess the meeting didn't go as you expected, did it?"

"No. I must have done something wrong because he apparently doesn't think a whole lot of me," I said.

Jeff laughed, which pissed me off a little. I didn't see anything funny about what I had been through. 

"Let me guess," Jeff said. "Mike told you something to the effect that he didn't think you were qualified to work for his precious company, right?"

"Something like that," I said.

"That's vintage Mike. He likes to put the fear of God into new employees," Jeff said. "As a mater of fact, he likes to do that to all of his employees." 

"He's always like that?" I asked.

"Well, not always but a lot of the time. Don't expect him to pat you on the back and tell you how good you are doing," Jeff said. "He leaves the back patting and praising to Marty. Mike's management style is to intimidate his employees into producing the results he wants." 

"Do a lot of people quit after they meet Mike the first time?" I asked.

"Occasionally, but that's what he wants. Mike doesn't want anyone that can be scared off easily," Jeff said. "All you have to do in this company to survive is do your job and ignore whatever Mike says. You will find that everyone else in this company is easy to get along with and in spite of Mike's bark he is very generous in his financial rewards when you do a good job. Just don't expect him to tell you that you did good." 

I felt a lot better after that conversation and by the end of that first week Jeff and I had become good friends. He had even invited me to his house to meet his wife, Nancy, and to have dinner. Nancy was an attractive girl with blond hair, blue eyes and what appeared to be a basketball hidden under her dress. 

"When are you due?" I asked.

"End of September," Nancy said. 

Looking at the two of them, I couldn't help but think that they would have a beautiful child and I told them so. 

By the time we had finished dinner, Nancy was already trying to set me up with her single friends. While I didn't want her to set me up with dates, it did make me feel good that Nancy thought I was worthy of her friends. My reluctance didn't deter Nancy at all. 

*****

The following week was kind of scary because I was given my own sales territory, which was geographically located South and East of Atlanta. I spent the first two days calling existing BDS customers in my territory and setting up appointments to visit them so that I could introduce myself.

Once I got out into the field, I found that I really liked the job. I quickly found a sales technique that worked for me. Rather than telling my customers what products and services I had for sale, I found that if I let the customer tell me what he needed from his network and then worked with him to design a solution I was able to establish a good rapport with them and close a lot of business.

For the next six months, I took the advice that Jeff had given me and worked hard and ignored anything Mike said to me, which was easy to do because I was seldom in the office and when I was Mike seldom spoke to me. Two weeks before the end of my first six months, I made a cold call on Clinton Products in Macon, Georgia. They had a large facility in Macon but were not currently a customer of BDS. I met with their Chief Information Officer (CIO) George Harris. Mr. Harris explained to me that Clinton Products had contracts with two different providers for their computer hardware, software and services. He said that they liked to use more than one supplier to insure that they were getting the most competitive prices and the highest quality of service. They felt that the competition between the vendors would make them perform better. Then Mr. Harris winked at me.

"I think that's bullshit myself," he said. "I think we would be much better off using a single vendor but the CEO wants to do it this way." 

I spent most of the afternoon with Mr. Harris and before I left he agreed to add BDS to his list of vendors and I managed to win a third of their business. This was only worth about $100,000 a year but it got our foot in the door. I was pretty proud of myself for pulling that off.

As a new employee, I was due for a six-month review in January. Marty and I went over my results for the first six months. I achieved 130% of my quota during that period and Marty was very pleased. After I finished talking to Marty, he told me that Mike wanted to see me so I headed over to Mike's office. I wasn't expecting much from him but I figured my performance deserved at least a thank you from Mike.

When I walked into his office, Mike was sitting at his desk. He didn't offer me a seat and he didn't even look up at me as he began to speak to me.

"I guess you think you're hot shit now because you made 130% of your quota," he grumbled. "Christ, with that low quota Marty gave you and the cherry territory assigned to you, I would have expected you to do at least 150% of quota." 

I was pissed but considering that it was Mike saying it I just let it go. 

"I see you brought in a contract for Clinton Products." 

"Yes. It's just a foot in the door for now. I hope to gain more of their business over time," I said.

"They are eighty miles from the office. Who the hell is supposed to drive out there to service the account?" Mike said.

I knew that we had a service tech that lived fifteen miles outside of Macon but I let Mike rant on.

"I also see that you gave them two points more than our usual discount." 

"I saw it as an opportunity to win a new customer and I wanted to get my foot in the door. I just felt that since they would be my customer, I would do what it took to win them. I'll make up those two points in ongoing business." 

"What the fuck do you mean by your customer?" Mike growled. "Is your fucking name on the outside of this building? They are my customers and if you can't understand that then perhaps you don't belong in this company." 

I knew that Mike was just baiting me but I was too angry to let this go. I had often thought of a speech that I would make to Mike if he ever pushed me too far and he had just done that.

"Well, okay then," I said as I turned to leave his office. I was sure he wasn't about to let me leave until he was ready to tell me to leave.

"Where the hell do you think you are going? I didn't tell you to leave yet." 

"I am going down to personnel and tell them to cut my severance check and then I will pack up my personal effects from my desk and I'll be out of here within the hour." 

"I haven't fired you yet." 

"I decided not to wait until you fire me," I said. "I can't work for a man who doesn't appreciate my efforts. Especially when I know I can walk out that door, make a few phone calls and have another job before the end of the week, probably working for one of your competitors." 

Mike's eyes got real big and his face turned red and he seemed to have trouble thinking of anything to say so I turned toward the door again.

"Wait. Maybe I came on a little strong there," Mike said. "You actually did a reasonably good job. I just want you to know that you can't slack off just because you had some early success." 

Mike stared at me waiting for me to say something so I decide to push him a little.

"So are you saying that you don't want me to quit?" I asked. 

I could see that this was very hard for him. "No. I don't want you to quit but if you threaten to take a job with a competitor again I will let you go. Now get out of here." 

I was pretty pleased with my self. That was the closest that Mike had come to apologizing to anyone that I had ever heard. I made him back down.

After that I got along a lot better with Mike. He never praised me but he didn't criticize either.

*****

On January 17, two weeks after my victory over Mike I was at Jeff's house for his birthday party. Jeff and I were laughing about my meeting with Mike when Nancy interrupted us so that she could introduce me to one of her friends. I had become used to this being a regular occurrence as Nancy had introduced me to at least seven of her single friends over the last six months. 

"Mind if I interrupt?" Nancy asked.

"You are never an interruption," Jeff said.

Nancy smiled at Jeff and kissed him on the cheek. I always like being around Jeff and Nancy because their love for each other was so obvious.

"David, I just wanted to introduce you to my friend Erica Patterson. Erica, this is David Beckman."

I had noticed Erica earlier in the evening and felt that there was something familiar about her but couldn't figure out what it was. Erica was five feet seven inches tall and had long dark brown hair and dark brown eyes and a lithe dancer's body and I felt myself drawn to her the first time I saw her talking to Nancy. I was hoping that she was the girl that Nancy intended to introduce me to that evening.

As I held her hand and told her it was nice to meet her, Nancy said, "You guys have something in common."

"What's that?" I asked.

"You both live in the same apartment complex."

"I knew you looked familiar. How do you two know each other?"

"I work with Nancy at Dean Healthcare," Erica said.

Nancy took Jeff by the arm and led him over to talk to some of their other guests. Erica and I spent the rest of the evening together. Before the party ended I asked her if she would have dinner with me the next night and she said yes. 

*****

After dinner, we went back to the apartment complex and decided to take a walk along the river. During our walk, we exchanged histories. I learned that Erica was from Courtland, New York and had graduated from the State University of New York (SUNY) at Binghamton just two months before coming to Georgia. She had come to Atlanta because she had been offered a job at Dean Healthcare, a large healthcare insurance company in Marietta. We had a very pleasant evening but when we got back to her apartment she didn't invite me in. I must admit to a little disappointment although I had no reason to expect to be invited in.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, David," Erica said and then she kissed me. There was something in the kiss that told me that I would be seeing a lot more of Erica and I was right. 

Over the next two weeks Erica and I went out together seven times.