2 comments/ 16030 views/ 0 favorites tawny By: kurtknout Tawny in Trouble * Tawny looked at her watch. Only 3:15! Another three hours of yuckiness. She smiled broadly, falsely, at the elderly couple coming up the supermarket aisle. "Would you like to try our new vegetarian breakfast sausage?" She proffered a misshapen brown bit of-–something––on a toothpick. "Nutritious! Delicious! No animals slaughtered! Help save our planet!" The old gentleman was clearly more interested in Tawny's eco-friendly costume than the unappetizing sample. She had to wear this erotic ripoff of a jolly green giant outfit: green tights, elf shoes, a very short skirt, and a laced vest way too small for her--her breasts bulged against the restraining laces––with the droll little green cap, she was the sexy embodiment of politically correct health, and, hopefully, the nearly tasteless bits of gristle she was demonstrating. Her wide smile, almost a grimace after seven hours of demeaning work, was fixed in place. "C 'mon Edwin, stop peekin' at her tits." the woman said, pulling her reluctant spouse away, towards the patent medicine section. 'This is the pits!' Tawny decided. Of all her recent lowpaying jobs, this had to be the worst. Even the cheapo bondage videos she had done last month were better than this! She had been paid a bit more, and kind of enjoyed the bondage, she admitted to herself, but was fired when she refused to do the blow jobs and fucking scenes. An actress had to have a little pride, after all. Standards, you know. Her cellphone rang inside her cunning elf waist pack. She answered, grateful for the interruption. "Tawny? This is Barry. Listen, I got a great opportunity for you! This could be the big one! Gotta see you later.." "How about right now? This job really sucks. Half an hour, OK? Not your office, no offense, but it smells like stale pizza and failure. "The Greek restaurant in the mall here, OK?" She was smiling her genuine smile as she clicked off and strode out of the market, her pitiful sausage substitutes abandoned. Whatever Barry, her agent, had in mind, it had to be better than this! Tawny Bush (Her stage name; back in Keokuk, Iowa she had been Helen Sturtz) was an actress, In Los Angeles. Coals to Newcastle. Along with countless waitresses and gardeners and other would be stars, she was sure that one lucky break, one chance to show her talent, would pave the way to fame and fortune. And allow her to expand her metier, of course. She was gorgeous (in a city where gorgeous was taken for granted): dark blonde with highlights, slim at five feet nine, but well endowed. Her breasts were large but firm, her saucy nipples uptilted slightly. Her waist was narrow, but her hips flared enticingly, her ass was perky, well rounded. And her legs, shapely, seemed longer than her height suggested. Did I mention her face? Deep blue sparkling eyes, straight nose, a wide mouth with a tiny overbite, full lips. Like I said, gorgeous. So what was the problem? Why wasn't she wildly successful in films? Because, unfortunately, she was a dead ringer for Sylvia Slate, the sexy and controversial super star. And Sylvia had gotten there first. Perhaps a bit over the hill, but still a powerful diva, she had personally made sure that none of Tawny's screen tests and interviews had seen the light of day. Fifteen minutes later Tawny sat in the Greek restuarant, toying with a low calorie salad: diet yogurt, cucumbers and a tiny piece of feta cheese. She still wore her vegetarian elf costume; this was Hollywood; only a few customers bothered to notice or react. Barry charged through the door and pulled up a chair across from her. "Tawny, baby! I got a real break for you! The opportunity of a life time!" "That's what you said about this last gig, the Tim Ferrell lookalike elf bit. The pits; I just quit." "No, listen! This involves Sylvia Slate. Hey, hey, I know you hate her, but hear me out!" He bent forward, exuding excitement . Barry Seidlitz was skinny, intense; he whipped off his habitual sunglasses to make his point and feign sincerity. As usual he wore hip Hollywood garb, the open shirt, the gold chains, the pony tail––about five years behind the times. Most of his clients came from the vast pool of losers, wannabes, has-beens and never-weres. There was a huge network of these celebrity seekers; they shared job tips and all the undercover rumors, scandals and gossip of the film community. And Barry heard most of it. "So that's how I got this hot tip." Barry continued: "one of my clients, a fine Shakesperian actor now temporarily employed as a pool boy, is tight with Sylvia's housekeeper. Now get this!" He paused dramatically. Tawny began to wonder what he was up to. "Someone's trying to kidnap Sylvia Slate! She's getting all these e-mail threats. The cops aren't interested until an actual crime is committed and she doesn't trust her security people for some reason. She's hired a charactor actor named Rock Hammer––can you believe it?–– who thinks he's Humphrey Bogart.. But evidently she's still terrified, afraid to leave her estate." "Barry, I think I see where you're going with this. First of all, kidnappers don't send warning notes, they kidnap. Then call and ask for ransom. So what's all this shit about emails? Sounds phony to me." "Uh, well. Look, Sylvia believes she's a target. And so she wants a--a––double, kinda. OK, I'll level with you. I talked to Sylvia, the housekeeper got me in. I––showed her your portfolio; she knew who you are. She––she wants to hire you. To kind of––stand in for her." "As bait, right?" Tawny was furious. "What a piece of work you are, Barry! Do you think I'd...." Barry interrupted: "Just calm down! She'll pay you twenty thousand dollars a week! Do a few appearances, like that. Saddam Hussein had a bunch of look-alikes, no big thing..." "How many of them got assasinated? No way, Barry! No way! Let that fat bitch solve her own problems". She paused: "Twenty thousand a week?" "It's real career boost! She said you could double for her in the next Jill of the Jungle shoot after this foolish kidnapping scare is over. And after that, who knows?" "OK, OK." Tawny said. "maybe––just maybe–– I'll think about it. Hell, I can do Sylvia Slate better than she can; she's getting old and fat." "Uh, yeah, about that. Sylvia thought from your pictures that you were a bit––just a tiny bit––too skinny. So, if you could put on a few pounds...." Tawny was on a punishing diet; she had lost nearly twenty of her healthy midwestern pounds. It had been agonizing. She exploded again; now the other diners were looking at the angry blonde in the weird green outfit. "That's it! You don't know how hard I have worked at..." Barry held up his hands. "I hear you! But––twenty thou a week; she said she'd go to thirty thousand. Tawny, darling. Tawny! No one else can do this!" It was more money than Tawny had seen in the last eighteen months. She took a deep breath, then another. After a long pause she looked Barry in the eye. He pulled his sunglasses back down off his forehead, hiding from her direct gaze. Finally she spoke: "Barry, you got me. I need the cash. I'll be ready in a week" She pushed aside the salad and beckoned for the waiter. "Bring me a plate of those dolmades and a lamb shish-ka-bob, no, two., And a beer!" She smiled at Barry. "Might as well start right away. It will take me ten days to get as sloppy fat as ol' Sylvia. And I want the money to start right now. Take it or leave it!" She dug into the delicious Greek food. Barry stood, almost knocking over the table. He gave Tawny a big hug, kissed her once, twice until she pushed him away. "Yeehah! Tawny, we're in business! I'll set up a meeting with Sylvia; she'll need to check you out in person. Happy pigging out!" Tawny would have answered, but her mouth was full. TWO THE INTERVIEW Ten days and fifteen extra pounds later, Tanya was impressed (and maybe a bit envious, she admitted to herself) as Barry steered his old Mazda Miata up the curved driveway to Sylvia's mansion or castle; you had to call it that. About the car: Barry kept insisting that it would be "a classic! a fucking classic! Worth a fortune! in about fifteen years!" In the meantime it was a faintly comical oil-leaking piece of junk. Barry braked grandly, spinning gravel, gave his keys to the openly disdainful valet, and rang the doorbell. The handsome young––butler?––who answered was frostily formal, "Yes?" he asked, eyeing Tawny, not Barry. 'What a hunk!' Tawny thought, and the same moment: 'He thinks I'm hot, too.' She was. With her crash cheeseburger and fried chicken and pasta and pastry––strawberry cheesecake almost every night––diet, she had undone all the painful slimming of the last year. She was ambivalent about the results: someone with anorexia nervosa would call her grotesquely fat; Rubens would have rejected her as too thin. The bottom line: as she posed in front of her full length mirror before her big interview with Sylvia, she liked what she saw. Her breasts were fuller, more softly inviting, squeezable; her waist remained slim with just a hint of incipient love handles, but a delicious little lower belly roundness had appeared. Her ass was more opulent; a swelling invitation to fondling, exploring, spanking––whatever. Now she regretted the grim months of dieting, trying to be the fashion model she was not. "I think this is me!" she told her voluptuous image in tne mirror: "Sexy me! Sylvia, watch your over–the–hill ass!" Now, led down the grand hallway by the young butler, she was much more subdued; even cocky Barry seemed momentarily awed by the mansion: thousands, perhaps millions of dollars worth of overdone ostentatious––kitsch. So, past the tapestries and medieval armor collections, interspersed with spotlit marquee posters from Sylvia's career, they were led to an office, part bedchamber, Louis XIV styled. An assured prim looking brunette rose from her baroque desk to meet them. Dark hair back in a bun, goldrimmed spectacles, a well tailored but severe business suit that clung, nonetheless, to her dancer's body, white blouse and black tie; her persona was impeccable as she anounced with a faint British accent: " I'm Miss Pritchard. Ms. Slate will see you now." 'Gotta be a dyke' Tawny told herself. Sylvia's office was something else. It ws her bedroom, actually, as widely reported by the Inquirer, the Star, and other sleazy tabloids. The color scheme was pink and white, even to the deep shag rugs, the fussy draperies and the canopy over the king––or maybe emperor––sized bed. "Shades of Mae West!' Tawny thought "Wow!" And in the middle of the suite, hand on hip, was the diva herself. One leg forward, chin raised, regal, she acknowleged her guests with an imperious frown. She wore, apparently, nothing but a sheer silk robe in blazing saffron, cinched tightly at her waist. Her famous body was outlined, perhaps enhanced, by the clinging fabric. Her legendary disdain of underthings was well known to her fans; today seemed no exception. "Goddamn! This lady really knows how to peddle her pussy! I can learn a lot from her! Just watch and listen, girl.' Tawny told herself. "Ms. Slate! What an honor..." Barry began. Sylvia cut him short: "Cut to the chase, Barry. Gerry? Whatever your name is. We know why you're here. And this is the girl that looks like me, right?" She strolled around Tawny, who yet had not spoken, like someone judging prize livestock at a state fair. Tawny felt demeaned, like a piece of meat; she was boiling, but kept silent––barely. "You were right, she does resemble me! Beautiful in a sort of--unformed way. And that dress, dear, I think I remember it. That dreadful spy movie, wasn't it?" Tawny had indeed copied the costume from Captive Spy, one of Sylvias's first hits, which had enraged the censors and become an overnight hit. The costume in question, as closely as Tanya could copy it with K mart knockoffs and a little skillful alteration by the Chinese seamstress from the flat next door, was a shiny black satin sheath, floor length, but slit nearly to the waist on both sides, showing lots of dark stockinged leg, and a glimpse of white thigh as well. The neckline plunged wide and low; only world class cleavage could have worn it (and both Sylvia and Tawny qualified). But most audacious was the low cut, almost nonexistent back of the gown. When Sylvia had turned dramatically in the film, the dress exposed her swelling hips and backside and hinted at the shadowed crack between her buttocks. Tawny had copied this iconic gown very well; in fact, the gaping cleavage was wider, flaunting most of her breasts, and the back was cut even lower; her ass showed another matching cleavage, no longer just a hint. Initially unsettled by the unbridled sexiness of this upstart, both turned on and nostalgic about the gown, Sylvia's facade was intact: supercilous, amused, in no way threatened by this youngster––a real actress, a diva. Barry broke the charged silence as the two women took one another's measure, like circling cats. Barry, a mere male, was uncomfortable and clueless during this long silent encounter. So he spoke: " Wow! Fantastic! Both of you are just awesome! I think she's just right, Sylvia––uh, Ms Slate. How about it?" "Just a second." Tawny cut in, her voice low, controlled, furious. "I haven't got in a word yet. I haven't been introduced, for chrissake!~ Sylvia, I'm Tanya. Pleased to do business with you. Now. What do you have in mind? What is my job title and description? Am I your double, or what? " Sylvia, unfazed, said: "My dear, I don't mean to neglect you. Your job will be very important to me. So, therefore, will you." "With respect, Sylvia" Tawny used the first name deliberately "With all respect, that's just too vague. Do i pretend to be you only at supermarket openings and second rate award ceremonies? Or do I do press releases and inteviews for you, or do you need a body double for your next film?" Sylvia's first impulse was to get rid of this feisty, insolent no–name bitch. On the other hand, the resemblance was so uncanny, and the kidnap threat so real––Sol Castle, the studio head, had assured her of that--she swallowed her anger and continued: "Tawny, we can settle all those issues in a precise contract, which Miss Pritchard will attend to in a moment. Yes, you will represent me at public events. No, you will not do my interviews or write my memoirs, for that matter. And I don't need a body double!" She inhaled, threw out her world famous bosom and posed dramatically. Tanya looked at Barry, who had been silent as the two women sparred, then said to Sylvia: "I accept. I'd be delighted to work for you –– with a little extra hazardous duty pay, perhaps, for the appearances. I know about the kidnap threats, of course." Sylvia glared at Barry, who adjusted his sunglasses. She said: "Well, Tanya, there might be a tiny bit of risk, though I think this is just some crazy fan, Still, he––or they ––seem to know everything about me. Actually, I wonder if you'd fool a really well informed kidnapper. I think i need to have a closer look at you; undress, please." Tanya froze, What was this? "Excuse me? You want me to––strip?" "Actually, yes. Unless I can ––inspect you, up close, I'm afraid the deal is off." 'What the Hell, I've got nothing to hide', Tanya thought. Miss Pritchard was watching tensely, she noted. 'Maybe they're both lesbians!' "WHy not?" she replied. Standing tall, she began to slip off the black satin sheath, then turned to Barry. "Do you mind? I'd like a little privacy for this strip search, or whatever." "Tawny. I should protect your--Oh, allright." Barry slunk out of the ornate bedroom and closed the door. In a few seconds Tawny was nude save for her gartered dark silk stockings and shiny high heeled pumps. She looked at Sylvia proudly, defiantly. The older actress circled her, prodding, poking, stroking her lush bottom just a bit too long, weighing and bouncing her breasts, judging their resilient jiggle. "Take some notes, Miss Pritchard: Tawny Bush is in superb physical condition, voluptuous, desireable, therefore a suitable double for some of my public obligations." Now she turned back to Tawny. "A few ––modifiations will be required, however. You remember that I said the would be kidnappers seem to know me––intimately, Of course, so do millions of my fans, I'm afraid. So...." She shed her robe and stood nude, dramatic, as if expecting a fanfare. She was gorgeous, Tawny admitted to herself, and that almost predatory air of sexual power she projected; that was special. And then there were the add ons. Sylvia cocked her ample left buttock: "First, you'll need to get a tattoo like this." High on her ass cheek was a five inch intricate work of art: a Japanese scene with a replica of Hiroshigi's famous cresting wave and below it a couple making explicit love. "I hear they don't have to be permanent anymore. Anyhow, the old japanese craftsman who did this is still in business. Miss Pritchard, get his address, will you? Secondly, (She posed flamboyantly, legs apart; her pubes, flaunted, were bare.) I like to be hairless, while you, my dear, have all that untidy blonde fur hiding your pussy. It's got to go. Wax works best." Tawny was stunned. First the tattoo––it was exquisite, –– and now this demand that she shave her treasured bush! And she had seen some little metallic glint as Sylvia proudly exposed her baby smooth mons veneris, her lush labia and peeping clit. "And, finally, you'll need to get the rings. " She displayed them as she spoke: "These steel nipple rings, this silver one in my navel and the big platinum loop in my. .." She fingered her crotch. "Miss Pritchard, set up the apointments; the hot wax guy, the piercing and ring guy, and oh yes, my hairdresser." Miss Pritchard, her eyes shiftiing from one glorious nude to the other, scribbled her notes. Tawny had finally recovered. "Sylvia! Ms. Slate! I can't do ––that! I'm sorry. I'm not going to shave my cunt for anyone! the rings, maybe the tattoo...but..." "Honey, it will grow back. I'm getting a really good feeling about our––working together. Besides, you'll be a wonderful double on my next Jill of the Jungle film. In tne foriegn editions, I'm pretty much, you know, bare assed naked., tattoo, rings and all." Thirty thousand a week, And those rings, kinky, but somehow exciting. How would it feel to be pierced–down there? And the movie. Tanya thought a long time, then spoke: "OK, I'll do it." Sylvia embraced her, hugging her close, the two pairs of lush bare breasts touching, flattening, as Sylvia kissed Tawny on both cheeks then full on the mouth for a long breathless moment. Miss Pritchard groaned, her hand stroking her woolen crotch. Tawny broke the embrace first and struggled back into her dress, suddenly self conscious. "Barry, you can come back in. We've got a deal!" ********** Tawny had a rough day and a half. The hairdresser did his thing in just an hour; Sylvias's tangled shoulder length do was duplicted in no time. And in the back room she'd submitted to the painful depilitation; shaved first, then waxed; her lovely pussy was still enticing, but bare; any mystery coyly hidden in her blonde bush was gone. Tawny grieved for a moment; her appointment with the ring guy, a debarred dermatologist, was next. She was a bit uneasy as the smiling olive skinned doctor approached her, pulling on latex gloves. She was naked on the operating table; for some reason the silent nurse had strapped her down. The doctor examined her breasts very thoroughly, then explored and fondled her labia for an even longer time, then straightened up with an even wider smile. He rubbed his hands together as he purred: Tawny Learns a Lesson It was pleasant to have Nicole's delicate fist wrapped around the base of his cock, but it was heaven when her sister wrapped her hand around the head. "See, Tawny? Good head always comes with a hand job." Markus lay back as they squeezed and started jacking him off together, the purplish tip of his shaft emerging between Tawny's forefinger and thumb, throbbing with their every tug. He didn't know what he was getting into when this started, didn't really know how he'd gotten here in the first place, but was damn glad he was where he was, sitting on the couch at his girlfriend's with his pants around his ankles and two gorgeous sisters stroking his erection, an erection so hard it hurt. He was oblivious as to the plan when Nicole had told him Tawny would be staying with them for the weekend while the dorms at her university were closed for cleaning. Tawny did stay the weekend occasionally to do laundry or get help with homework from the two of them, both teachers. When he'd caught on that there was something going on was when Tawny walked in the front door looking gorgeous. Markus had been with Nicole long enough that Tawny was used to seeing him around and didn't bother to look her best in his presence anymore, casually tossing on sweats and a headband to come over, but this evening she'd walked in wearing a cute little black skirt that left a lot of tan, athletic thigh exposed (Tawny was on the volleyball team despite being a few inches under six foot) and a tight white tee that accentuated breasts that had grown during her freshman year and a hint of dark tummy showing below the hem. She took her sunglasses off of her pert nose as she kicked the door shut with a bare foot, exposing impossibly pale blue eyes and round cheeks as tan as her stomach and legs. Nicole came around the corner from the hallway to see who it was, and despite Tawny's attractiveness it was clear Markus had picked the prettier sister. Nicole had cute, youthful features and a dash of freckles across her nose and cheeks that coupled with a wide, luscious smile to make her look younger than her sister despite being in her early twenties. Nicole laughed at Tawny and swept over to give her a hug, holding her younger sister against her ample breasts, and Markus took the opportunity to peek at Nicole's ass, full and round and tucked into a flattering pair of jeans. Where Tawny was coltish and toned, Nicole was curvaceous and womanly. "All dressed up for me, Tawny?" Markus teased, crossing his arms and leaning back in the recliner where he'd been reading. "Uh-huh. Just for you," she mocked. "Like my hair?" She shook her blonde tresses, more of them than last time he'd seen her. "It's almost as long as yours!" Markus laughed, running his hand through his own shoulder-length mane. The evening was mostly routine for the trio, Tawny and Nicole talking about family things while Markus grilled steaks on the porch. Nicole opened a couple of bottles of Cabernet to drink with dinner. But there was a palpable tension in the night's conversations. By the time the sun had set, the dishwasher was quietly sloshing and Markus was pouring the last dregs of the second bottle into their glasses. Whatever anxiety there had been had thoroughly evaporated and they'd laughed themselves to tears more than once. Markus admired Nicole's slightly tipsy smile in the soft lamplight and then turned to look as Tawny got up from the recliner to look for something in her duffel bag. When she bent over at the waist, her skirt rode up high in the back, exposing the bottom arc of her ass and a thin bit of pink fabric between her cheeks. "Uh, Tawny? I think you're showing us a little more than you want to." Markus blurted out, immediately regretting the tease; he should've just admired the view. Fortunately, Tawny just giggled and wiggled her ass, the skirt swishing around her hips and exposing even more backside while she dug in her bag. Markus thought he felt his penis stirring and then suddenly realized it was Nicole's hand on his lap, rubbing across the crotch of his shorts. He turned to look at her to find her smiling mischievously at him. She nodded back to her sister, and Markus turned in time to see Tawny straighten up and reach back with a hand to pull the thong out of her crack as she turned around. His gaze shot up reflexively to her face, but Tawny was looking at Nicole's hand rubbing in his lap. She looked up at his face and blushed a little and opened her pink lips a bit as if to say something, but remained silent. The tension had returned. Markus knew he should stop Nicole, but his dick was quickly growing and it felt wonderful. His gaze roamed over her sister's body. "Markus?" Nicole said, and he turned to look at her. She was still smiling seductively. "Yeah?" "Tawny needs your help with something." Markus blinked dumbly. Between the wine and his sudden arousal, he couldn't catch up with what was going on. "Like, for school?" "No, this is different," she said, moving her hand to his belt and starting to loosen the buckle. "Tawny, why don't you come sit down by us on the couch." It was clearly not a question, and after a brief hesitation Markus felt her presence on the other side of him and turned to look. She was staring rapt at Nicole's hand unzipping his pants and undoing the buttons, and the way she had sat down left her thighs parted and Markus could clearly see where those thin pink panties covered her young pussy. "Tawny is having trouble sucking cock," Nicole continued, and Markus whipped around to look at her, shocked. Nicole was rarely so aggressive or dirty without being in the throes of sex, so he knew she must be extraordinarily turned on. "Apparently she had a problem getting a boy at school to cum with her mouth, and she decided to ask me for help. You know she's a virgin, and I don't want her to have to compromise her virginity... and I was having a hard time explaining to her what to do, and I thought it might be easier just to show her, and I was wondering if you'd help us." While she was talking she had fished Markus's cock, now fully erect, out of the front of his boxers and had wrapped her hand around it. He was still a bit overwhelmed, but he knew for certain he wasn't about to do anything to stop her. "Yeah, Markus, will you help me?" Tawny asked, having finally gathered herself a bit. Markus turned back to her and saw she had spread her legs far enough to have rendered her skirt irrelevant (as it had nearly been from the start) and her mouth was still slightly open, and he could see her wet tongue moving inside. "I've seen you looking at her before," Nicole said softly in his ear as she stroked his cock and he visually devoured her sister "and I know she turns you on. I know you want to fuck her. I know you dream about this.... about us, together..." "Uh-huh," Markus said dumbly. Keeping one hand wrapped around his shaft, Nicole used the other to lift his shirt and started licking her way down his chest and wiry stomach. She rose from her seat and got on her knees in front of him as she moved down his thin, wiry body toward his crotch. "I like to tease him a little bit, see, Tawny? Lick here around his abs and inside his thighs." "MmmHmm." Tawny said. She'd lowered her hand to cup her panty-covered pussy and began massaging herself. "But the boys I'm with aren't my boyfriend, Nic," she said quietly. "They just want me to make them cum." "In that case," Nicole said, grinning, "you can get right to it." With that she engulfed Markus's cock, sliding the first few inches into her mouth and bathing the tip with her tongue. Nicole loved to suck cock, and moaned as she fit his whole length into her face, the end slipping into the opening of her throat. Markus couldn't believe his fortune. He was watching his girlfriend's sister finger herself while his girlfriend sucked him off. Tawny was grinding her ass into the couch cushion while she watched, and was now touching herself with both hands, obscuring his view but turning him on just as much. Nicole slobbered relentlessly on his dick, bobbing up and down and coating him with her saliva. She reached up and grabbed Tawny's lithe calf and pulled her down to the carpet so she could get a better view. When he was thoroughly wet with her spit, Nicole popped him out of her mouth and wrapped her hand back around his prick and started jacking him off. "Markus loves this," she purred, "watching me wrap my little hands around his cock and squeeze." She bent down and took his balls into her mouth while she masturbated him. Tawny's face was hovering close enough that he could feel her breath on his cock, and that's when Nicole surprised them both. "You want to help me out, Tawny?" Tawny looked up at Markus and slowly smiled. "Yeah, I do." Nicole let his balls drop from her lips and made room for Tawny to crowd in, and she wasted no time in wrapping her fist around his pulsing glans. "See, Tawny? Good head always comes with a hand job." Markus watched as the two beautiful sisters stroked him. Nicole leaned in and kissed her sister's cheek, and to Markus's surprise Tawny turned into the kiss and soon they were ferociously tonguing while their grips tightened on his dick. "Holy fuck that's hot." Markus gasped, and the girls stopped and smiled at him. "Why don't you take over," Nicole said, leaning back, "and let me coach you on how to suck him off. I'll get him to fill your mouth." Tawny didn't pause at all and quickly took his cock, still wet with her sister's spit, into her mouth. Markus groaned and cursed and buried his hands in her hair, bucking his hips up and driving his length into her warm, wet mouth. She gagged a bit as he bumped the back of her throat and he backed off enough to let her breathe but still forcefully started fucking her face. Nicole started to strip her clothes off while she watched. "You like that, sweetie?" She asked Markus as her big, round tits came into view. "You like having my little sister suck your dick? Hmm?" "Oh, FUCK, yes!" Markus exclaimed, watching Nicole strip while Tawny kept blowing him. "I don't know what that other guy's problem was." Nicole laughed as she lay back on the floor, now totally naked and spread her legs. "Well, to be fair, he wasn't watching me do this, was he?" She asked as she pulled her cunt open with her fingers. It was clean-shaven and sopping wet as he knew it would be. Markus could see a rivulet of her juices already running down the curve of her asscheek towards her little pucker. Nicole frigged her clit while she watched, occasionally dipping a couple of fingers into her sticky snatch. "Use your tongue along the underside of his shaft, Tawny," she said as she fingered herself. "Keep him nice and wet and then wrap your hand around the base and jack him off into your mouth. Show him how much you want to swallow his cum." Tawny complied, gripping his cock and establishing a rhythm with her hungry mouth. "Oh, I do," Tawny said, looking up at Markus through her lashes, speaking with her lips on the tip of his dick. "I want him to come for me so bad. I'm so happy you decided to show me how to do this right." "Me too," Markus said with a shuddering breath. As Nicole watched she felt her orgasm approaching and began making small mewling sounds of pleasure, her finger becoming a blur across her clit. She pressed down hard as the first wave broke, crying out in ecstasy, "Oh, fuck, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" Markus watched her writhe on the floor, her large breasts shaking with her convulsions, the moisture from her cunt coating her fingers. After recovering herself, Nicole got up behind Tawny, whispering in her ear as her hands went to the hem of her little sister's shirt. "You really want to make him cum hard?" Tawny murmured her assent around her mouthful of dick. "Then let me take this shirt off and let him fuck those cute tits of yours." Tawny complied, reluctantly pulling away from Markus's stiff member long enough for Nicole to pull her shirt over her head, exposing a sheer pink bra that quickly joined the shirt on the floor that left her breasts bare, nipples hard with arousal. Nicole bent down to lick Tawny's right breast, and Markus took the opportunity to join her at the left. Tawny clutched her two new lovers' heads to her perky tits as they sucked at her areolas for a while before coating the space between them with a heavy layer of saliva. Markus leaned back and Tawny leaned forward, looking up at him. "I've never done this before." "Never done what before?" Nicole asked, wanting to hear her sister say it. "Never let anyone titfuck me." Tawny said, looking naughtily over her shoulder at her sister. "Mmm... let me help you then." Nicole said, and reached around to press Tawny's tits together around Markus's throbbing cock. He growled with pleasure as his cock thrust in her cleavage, the tip emerging at the top with every plunge between her breasts. He loved when Nicole let him hold her boobs together and thrust between them while she licked at the head each time it emerged, but it couldn't compare with the sight of being between her younger sister's smooth flesh and he felt his orgasm rising in his balls. "Oh shit, I'm so close," He panted. "Yeah, baby, cum for her, sweetheart, cum for my little sister," Nicole said, tweaking Tawny's nipples and looking over her shoulder as Markus neared his peak. Markus looked down and Tawny looked him in the eye. "Do it, please! Cum for me, Markus! Cum all over me!" With that he could take no more and jets of cum spewed from the top of his dick. He shouted wordlessly as sticky ropes splattered across Tawny's face and fell down onto her heaving tits, and some even found it's way onto Nicole's freckled features. Markus slumped back spent, and Tawny fell back too, onto one elbow, the hand not supporting her thrusting down into her panties. Her eyes were closed with passion and her breath was ragged. Nicole leaned over and began licking Markus's cum off of her face and tits, and soon enough Tawny was cumming too, screaming as she soaked her panties all the way through. There was a moment of awkward awareness as the three all regained their senses in the aftermath, but they merely exchanged sheepish looks. "So, Tawny," Markus said at last, "Let me know if you ever need any more help." "Markus!" Nicole said mockingly. "Oh, you are invited too, sweetheart." He added quickly, grinning. "Well, you never know," Tawny replied, "There may be some more things I need to work on." tawny "We could use local anesthesia, but–– three procedures––I think general anesthesic is best, Nitrous oxide. Yes? You won't feel a thing." An hour later, Tawny found herself with solid steel rings perforating her breasts just under her nipples, another ring in her navel and a goodsized chrome ring piercing her inner labia, just below her clltoris. Groggy with pain medications, she let Barry drive her home, but was alert enough to decline his offer to do the warm compresses and massage she might need. That night, though, still a bit stoned from the pain pills, she wondered why her deep vagina and rectum were so sore; the doctor had not been there––or had he? Her nitrous oxide dreams––or possibly recollections–– of violation were lurid; evoked, perhaps, by her throbbing nipples and labia. Still smarting and swollen the next morning, she surveyed her new baubles in her full length mirror. Outrageous, but––kind of a turn on; especially––she spread her thighs and fingered her sensitive cunt––the labial ring. She was now committed to the project. The chainsmoking old Japanese tattoo artist who decorated her buttock was no problem; her multiple rings still throbbed. THREE The next day Tawny moved into Sylvia's estate; in the meantime there had been another threatening email full of specific threats, describing Sylvia's torment to come while she waited for her ransom, in obscene detail. Sylvia didn't share this call with Tawny or anyone else, but was more convinced than ever that she'd better stay in her fortress. She had hired two extra security guards, retired cops; that made four plus her bodyguard/chauffeur Rock Hammer. She'd have to introduce him to the bait--I mean Tawny––she thought, if he's going to be driving her. Tawny settled in to her small but still luxurious room in the servant's quarters. She had brought her cell phone, her Ipod, her toothbrush and herbal remedies and a few clothes, especially lingerie; she was not sure of Sylvia's policy regarding underwear for employees. She had met Boris the gorgeous blonde butler and Miss Pritchard ––"Call me Patrricia––Pat–– I'm sure we'll get along smashingly!" and her driver and bodyguard, Rock Hammer. He had appeared silently in her room while she was unpacking her bustiers, see through bras and thong panties and cleared his throat. She jumped. "I'm your protector, Rock Hammer. The actor. Probably you've seen my ouvre, but that was then and this is now. I'd lay down my life for the Princess––that's what we call Sylvia–– and since you are going to be her, I make you the same promise. I'm a hell of a driver, too." Rock wasn't too tall, maybe five foot seven on his tiptoes; like Alan Ladd or Mickey Rooney, short but intense. Well built, Tawny thought, in his dark double breasted suit––so gloriously outdated that it was now retro, chic, and short tie. The squint, the dangling cigarette, the craggy features––was he trying to be Bogart or Edward G. Robinson, she wondered. And then he smiled; a sweet guileless smile, totally out of character for the tough shamus he was trying to project. A pussycat! she thought. Then: Can this actor really protect me? "Your first gig is tonight; a bowling alley dedication." He registered Tawny's puzzled look. "Hey, it's part of the job; all the big stars do it. Let me tell you about Sylvia at the Girl Scout marshmallow roast sometime. Anyway, I'll pick you up at seven. Pritchard will bring you your costume." "Wait a second! Rock, if I can call you that. I'm a hired hand, I know, but...I haven't seen Sylvia since I got here, I haven't seen a script, or what I'm supposed to do...." "No problem, baby. I'll fill you in. These crapola appearances are all the same. Just stay away from the crowd. And smile and wiggle a lot. That's all there is to it. And be nice to the photographers. See you." Tawny was still trying to process her feelings, no, her misgivings, about this whole weird role when Miss Pritchard came in. 'Does no one knock around here?' she wondered. The secretary smiled, primly and lasciviously at the same time, if that is possible. 'Probably a British thing,' Tanya thought, as she noted how much more today's form-fitting pale gray suit clung to the secretary's supple body. "Here's your outfit for tonight, ducks." Pritchard said, holding out a skimpy tee shirt and pink satin tap pants and pink and white bowling shoes. "Would you like a bit of help dressing?" "Uh, no thank you, I think I can manage. But this costume..." "Not to worry; Sylvia's taste in these areas is impeccable. And no panties, no bra, remember?" Half an hour later Tawny squirmed––but very carefully––on the leather seat of the limo. The satin pants were so tight! As was the nearly sheer tee shirt, with a Bimbo Bowl logo on the back and Strikes and Spares, one over each straining breast. Surely Sylvia couldn't wear this costume, she thought, and unloosened the white leather belt one notch. There! At least she could breathe! Rock, at the wheel looked over at her. "Stage fright, huh? Stop fidgeting, you'll be great. Sylvia always knocks 'em dead, and"–– another sidelong glance–– "so will you! Oh yeah!" At the bowling alley, spotlights stabbing into the night sky, neon and tinsel streaming, Tanya wiggled into the lobby, flanked by photographers and rabid fans, plus a goodly number of beer drinking bowlers. Hustled onto a low stage, Tanya was presented with a golden bowling pin by the sweating, grinning owner. He spoke: "And now, fellow bowlers! The legendary, the fabulous, the very sexy Sylvia Slate will bowl the first ball!" She was steered to the lane; a sixteen pound ball was thrust into her hands. 'Well, what the hell, I've bowled before, The worst I can do is throw a gutter ball.' she told herself, balanced the ball, looked down at the pins and bent over. Rrrrripp! For the record, she knocked down eight pins, leaving a 7 10 split, but no one was watching. As she delivered the ball, her skin tight tap pants split widely along the central seam, front to back. Her total perineum was exposed; the labial ring glinted in the bright lights. The crowd cheered, cameras clicked. She straightened up, blushing, trying to cover herself. Ouch! Her thumb was stuck in the goddamn bowling ball she had retrieved! The crowd went wild. One tall longhaired bowler exhaling beer fumes lunged forward, shouting: "Sylvia! I want you!' Rock Hammer was there to punch him in the stomach, but going down, the rabid fan clutched at Tanya's split shorts, tearing off one half of the skimpy garment. A souvenier frenzy ensued. In seconds the fans descended; Tanya was naked in less than half a minute as Rock and the two other security men hustled her out of the bowling alley and into the limo. Tanya was embarrassed, furious and tearful simultaneously as Rock sped away. He had gallantly draped his jacket over her nudity as he lifted her into the car, strong hands cradling her bare bottom. Tanya was silent, stunned. Rock didn't say a word for a full five minutes. They drove. Finally she blurted: "What was that? I mean, what? Does this kind of shit happen all the time? What?" "Fans. They're animals, Sylvia, I mean Tanya. You've got to keep your distance, don't rile them up, not too much. That split shorts, bare assed routine, now, that's like putting your head in the lion's mouth, so to speak. Not a good career move; or maybe it was. Lots of cameras ." Tanya turned on him, furious. "You think I did––that–– on purpose? They ––Sylvia, that Pritchard dyke, I don't know––gave me shorts that were way too tight! I think someone set this up! This whole setup stinks! I quit!" She sulked for another ten miles. Rock lit a cigarette and said carefully: "I see why you'd be a bit upset..." "Not upset! Totally pissed off!" "Uh, yeah, that too. Look: Sylvia's paying you a lot to sub for her; maybe she's paranoid, it's not my job to care. You kinda fucked up tonight, but I bet you're still on the payroll. Wait until morning to quit. Trust me on this one, OK?" "Rock––what a phony name–– Rock, or whoever, don't sweet talk me. Don't say any more! I'll––OK, i'll sleep on it. Just get me home!" FOUR Tawny didn't sleep too well. 'Have I totally fucked up? Is she going to fire me, tattoos, rings and all?' she asked herself as she tossed and turned. She woke early and had breakfast alone in the plush kitchen breaskfast nook. Consuela. the cook, was almost mute., but somehow seemed sympathetic. 'They all know about my bareassed last night' she thought. Tanya was not too surprised to receive a summons from Sylvia, relayed by the blonde butler--Boris was his name, she had learned; he was now eyeing her more openly. "Heard you screwed the pup last night," he smiled. "Sensational pictures of your ass on the 24/7 cable channels. Hey, not to worry. Sylvia––and everyone else in this town––thinks there is no such thing as bad publicity. Good luck." Without giving it too much thought, Tawny had slipped on a tight pair of low riding jeans and a t shirt. Beckoned in by Ms, Pritchard, she again entered Sylvia's opulent bedroom––the star's stage, she realized. Sylvia wore yet another revealing robe; black lace this time, and highheeled sandals with laces up her calves. Silently she gestured grandly for Tawny to enter, llike a queen, an emporess. 'Sheesh!' Tanya thought: 'Is she always in character, the big enchilada?' And answered her own question. 'Absolutely; she's always on.' She stood uneasily, awaiting the royal wrath she expected. "Tawny, darling!" Sylvia purred. "You––we––had a little unexpected exposure last night, didn't we? A bit extreme, but what the hell? And the tattoo televised really well. But––" Her false smile turned to a snarl. She took two threatening steps towards Tawny, she was in her face. "But––but! I don't think you understand my legend. I am not a comedienne, a klutz. When my garments, uh, fail, it is calculated. And your clothes today, What's with that grungy look?" Tawny, confused by this mercurial mood change. faltered: "Hey! it's early in the day! These ––this is what I wear!" "Not any more. Not if you work for me. Understood?" Sylvia was imperious. Pat Pritchard, standing discreetly in the corner, smiled slightly. Sylvia continued: "I have an extensive wardrobe, including all of my film costumes. Use them, please. Not my personal wardrobe, of course. Try to become––part of the legend." She struck a pose. 'What a diva!' Tanya thought, not without admiration. 'Maybe if I stroke her giant ego.' She feigned swooning admiration. "Oh! if I could have the privilege to wear your––fabulous things. Satin shorts that really fit, for one." She shot a glance at Pritchard, who looked away. "And maybe, I could review your work, your films and TV series. I'd get a better feeling for the job, I'm sure!" Sylvia beamed. "What a good idea, you gorgeous young thing! I have copies of all my artistry, of course. Why don't you spend the rest of the day immersing yourself in my––specialness. You may go, now. And please change your clothes." Tanya allowed herself a little self congratulation as she left. Flattery, that wa the trick. If she could only keep her clothes on, she would sail through the next few weeks. She had almost forgotten about the kidnapping threat. On her way to plunder Sylvia"s sumptuous, if slightly glitzy wardrobe, she ran into Rock Hammer in the hallway dapper if dated. She touched his arm impulsively. "Rock! Thank you for last night, when I––you know. You were a real gentleman; I appreciate it." He seemed a bit nonplussed, squinted as he lit a cigarette. "Just doing my job, miss. I mean Tanya. We'll both be more careful next time. Keep the fans away." He bowed slightly and proceeded down the hall. Tanya was used to automatic male approval, if not frank lust. What was with this Hammer guy? Gay? Just doing his job? Keeping his distance, at least. It made her a bit uneasy. Whatever. Now for those costumes! Four hours later Tanya lolled in Sylvia's private movie theater, wearing the slinky satin nightgown from Sylvia Slate's film debut, Soiled Doves. To make her viewing ordeal less painful she was working on a pitcher of margueritas thoughtfully supplied by Consuela. Four hours of her employer's ouvre was about all she could take: Sylvia's glorious body clearly trumped her acting ability. Tanya had to fight the thought, no, the certainty, that she could have done all those sexy roles better––and her body was, if anything, better. She turned off the projector; she needed some fresh air. She rummaged through the huge wardrobe of Sylvia Slate costumes, all a bit more garish, more suggestive than she would have chosen. Where was anything to wear for a stroll around the estate? No slacks, no jeans, no casual dresses; finally she found a short diaphanous sun dress.(She recalled the scene in Desperate Daughters where Sylvia, back lit so her dress was nearly transparent, bosom heaving, confronted her seducer.) Tanya slipped off the nightgown and tugged on the gauzy little dress. It fit like a glove; a very tight glove. She looked at herself in one of the numerous full length mirrors ini Sylvia's mansion. Damn! I look great! she told herself. Exploring the estate and the adjoining woods called for sneakers, but none were at hand. She opted for high heeled silver sandals which matched her shimmering little dress, and walked down the hall into the pantry and snuck out the kitchen door into the vast landscaped back yard, teetering, just a wee bit drunk. The gardens were glorious, the day sunny with just the right breeze. As she wandered towards the edge of the property she couldn't subdue her envy; how would it feel to live like this? She noted two men half hidden in the shrubbery; probably Sylvia's bodyguards. She walked on, exploring, now fairly close to the tall trees that marked the state park abutting the estate. Here was a rustic gate; on an impulse, she walked through it One of the guards followed her through the gate. 'Just doing his job,' she thought. As he approached, a slim man in a tight fitting black suit, he pulled a rubber mask over his face. My God! It's my president! thought Tanya in a giddy moment. Smirking George W. Bush advanced toward her. Suddenly afraid, Tanya retreated further into the woods, stumbling in her high heels. "Hey! Hey! What's going on? Who are.... " From behind a hand on her mouth silenced her. A strong arm encircled her, pulling her backwards, off her feet. She turned her head to see George Bush again; another masked figure. She tried to struggle; already the first kidnapper had produced a coil of rope and tied her wrists behind her as the other assailant covered her nose and mouth with a sweet smelling cloth. 'Oh, come on! Not chloroform! That's so hokey...' she thought just before she lost consciousness. The two men hustled her into the park; one threw her limp figure over his shoulder, grinning beneath his mask at her gorgeous ass draped close to his face. He fondled her. 'Goddamn! Sylvia Slate!' Hidden behind a large tree was an ATV. They threw Tanya unceremoniously across the back cushion and climbed the steep rugged hill. Sylvia and her security forces had assumed that the forest was inpenetrable; it was not. FIVE Tawny came awake, groggy. Where was she? She half remembered being carried over the shoulder of one of the men, his hand on her ass. Then some kind of trip––on a motorcycle? And now...she tried to move her arms; she could not. Now nearly conscious, she found herself in what appeared to be a shabby trailer, tied to a kitchen chair. Her wrists were tied behind the chair back; several turns of rope under her breasts and around her waist bound her tightly to the wooden slats. Her ankles were tied to the chair legs, spreading her legs slightly. Her cotton frock had rucked up over her thighs, exposing her shaved pubes and the glinting labial ring. She could wriggle, but that was all. She looked up to see the two grinning George Bushes facing her. George One (the skinny one who had grabbed her) spoke: "Sylvia Slate! What an honor! You are our guest. How long? Until your studio pays us a handsome ransom." Tawny was now nearly alert. She struggled against the tight ropes. How to respond to these two grinning (at least their masks grinned, that patented little smirk.) kidnappers standing before her? She decided the truth was best. "Hey, guys, whoever you are. This is a big mistake! I'm not Sylvia Slate! I'm––just hired help. Because I look like her. So––you kidnapped the wrong girl!" She tried a little smile. "So, no harm, no foul, like they say. Just turn me loose, and we'll forget the whole thing. Sylvia need never know!" She smiled broadly, her supermarket elf smile. Was is it going to work? George One waited a second, then spoke: "Sylvia, Ooh, Sylvia. I didn't know you could act this well. An Academy Award performance. My congratulations, you gorgeous piece of ass. But I don't think we're buying it." He turned to the other masked man. "I'll be George, you'll be W, OK? No real names. Sylvia, my dear, you'll be our guest until the ramsom details are firm and the money in our hands. In the meantime I look forward to our closer acquaintance." "You bet your big sweet ass! " W chortled. "Shit!" Tanya thought: "I'm in real trouble here. That first guy––George––seems smart as hell. edgy. He reminds me of someone...; W is just a side kick, maybe a computer type; maybe I can get around him somehow. Let's try once more." No longer smiling, she said: "No! Listen to me! I'm not Sylvia! My name is Tanya Bush! I'm––I'm worthless! No ransom, understand?" George's voice was assured, almost smug. The bastard is probably grinining behind that infuriating smirking mask, Tanya thought. "Sylvia, stop the act! or maybe we'll gag you. We've done our research. We know about your tattoo." He ripped aside her skirt, exposing her decorated haunch, "And your celebrated rings!" He tugged open her cotton dress; her pierced nippled breasts jutted between the encircling ropes. "Check her out, W." George stepped back. His co-captor's hands were on her at once, cupping her, lifting, gently squeezing, then fiingering her nipples and the stout steel rings that perforated them. In seconds, to her embarrasment, Tanya's nipples were turgid. W backed away, as George stepped up and subjected her to a leisurely fondling. His hands strayed from her breasts to her shaven pubic area, first toying with her outer lips, then toying with, gently tugging the larger ring, then slipping two fingers into her moistening vagina, his hateful unchanging mask smirking all the while. "I'm going to get fucked for sure, no matter what goes down." Tanya told herself, squirming as George fingered her. "The Tanya story, sweet and helpless, is not going to fly with these bastards. I'd better try something else." She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders as much as the tight ropes allowed, and almost sneered, her voice dripping with scorn: "You miserable fuckers! Get your hand out of my pussy! Of course I'm Sylvia Slate. And you losers are in serious trouble! My studio will pay your ransom...if I'm unharmed. I mean not raped. got it? I'll help you, make a ransom film, whatever. But only if you give me the respect I deserve. I'm a star! A valuable star! " She glared at them. George had withdrawn his hand. "Well, well, Sylvia. Your royal highness! In all your stuck up splendor! What makes you think we won't fuck a diva? Many times, when we want. I bet you give good blow jobs, too. How about it, W?" "Well, Ba...I mean George. Sorry. Sure we'll fuck her. But no whipping, no torture, that kind of stuff you go for, OK? The sooner we tawny get our money and turn her loose the better. That's what I think." "We'll see. Your luscious ass, Sylvia, just begs for a little whipping, in my opinion. And maybe more severe punishment. It kind of depends on how fast your studio comes up with the ransom. " George sounded a bit grumpy. 'Are these two guys going to argue? God, I hope so!' Tawny thought. 'What would Sylvia do?' She had an idea, and summoned up every iota of her diva, Gloria Swanson, goddess persona: "Please. Both of you. You're squabbling, you're pitiful!. If you want to do this kidnapping right, I have a few suggestions," George stood back. "Sylvia, we own you, do you understand? We don't need your suggestions, thank you very much." Tawny summoned up her best imperious Sylvia imitation one more time: "No one owns me! You--you clowns! Blunder through this on your own! Lots of luck, you losers!" Tied to a chair, spreadlegged, nearly nude, this was a hard attitude to sell, but somehow Tawny managed--partly. "Uh--George, maybe we should hear her out." W said. George might have glared at him; masked, who knew? "We're cutting you a lot of slack, you high and mighty bitch. but--just before we fuck your brains out, let's hear what you have to say." Tawny tried to stare him down; with the infuriating mask half hiding his eyes, that was impossible. " Sol Castle (nee Schloss) is the main man at my studio, Astro. He'll answer your ransom demands, no one else will. The sonofabitch will probably try to get some free publicity out of your shabby little fling. So, send him your ransom note, plus a picture of me, tied up__one that he'll leak to the media--and put in a --you know, current newspaper headline, or something, to show that this is for real. " "Sylvia, I'm impressed." George said. "you're smarter than a big titted bimbo should be. We'll do exactly that. W, I'm going out to get a paper, and a pizza, maybe a few beers. And a lot more rope. While I'm gone, why don't you and Sylvia get--better acquainted?" He left, tipping W an exaggerated wink. There was an embarassed pause. W attemped a swagger and stood over the bound actress. He reached for her breasts, clumsily at first, then with increasingly sensual deep kneading as Tawny felt her pierced nipples erect again. "goddamit" she thought. "I really don't want to get hot for this creep! What now?" She squirmed as salaciously as her tight bonds allowed, lowered her head, then looked up at her tormentor, lashes fluttering. Forget Gloria Swanson; she was doing Lillian Gish. 'Pour it on,' she told herself: what's to lose?' "Stop it! Stop it! Ooh, your hands are so strong!" She wriggled again. ""It's not going to be much fun for either of us if you--you know--fuck me with me all tied up."She flashed him a shy smile. W stood back and seemed to consider his options. Fiinally he said: "Now you're talking, Sylvia. lets get you out of that chair." He knelt, untied her ankles then loosened the ropes bindiing her to the chair. Tawny got to her feet, shakily, She continued her flirtatious smile , inwardly exulting: 'Maybe I can sweet talk this dork into freeing me!' Aloud, she said. "Oh thank you! I could just give you a hug! But my wrists..." Her hands were still tightly bound. She wriggled again, frowning prettily. "But how can I hug you or--you know? These ropes are so tight!" He held her by both shoulders, the smirk on his Bush mask echoed by the note of sly triumph in his voice: "You bet your ass they're tight, my little slut, and they're going to get tighter!' He reached for one of the ropes and tied her upper arms together behind her back, tugging until her elbows almost touched. This was more painful than the chair had been. 'Oh shit!" she thought. "So much for my seductive skills.' He bent her over the flimsy card table. "Gotta hurry before Ba--I mean George gets back. " He fumbled with his belt buckle, and unzipped his fly; with one big hand he held her down, flattening her breasts against the table. "Here it comes, Sylvia--doggy style! Maybe we'll do foreplay later." She tried to clamp her thighs together; too late. With his other big hand he spread her asscheeks and thrust deep into her. Tawny screamed and then gasped. He was so big! As he lunged, she was dismayed to find herself lubricating and beginning to answer his driving cock. with her own pelvic rhythms. "You slut!" she berated herself. "You're so fucking easy! He's raping you!" "Aah, shut up. Que sera, sera. OOh wow! That's so--ummm!" she answered herself. and surrendered, her deep muscles quivering, her bottom thrusting in time with his insistent deep lunges. She was gone. Escape was the last thing on Tawny's mind at this moment. W (ah, let's call him Phil; that's his name when he's not masked} was blissful. This was the best sex he'd ever had! Her pussy was so warm, so tight and yet so yielding. And this was Sylvia Slate! He was fucking Sylvia Slate! He couldn't retrain a hoarse nearly animal cry of exaltation as he came. And then he felt the rough grip on his shoulder. George was back. And he was furious. "Phil, you horny sombitch! Couldn't wait, huh? After we had decided on the spanking and torture and all! Now all I get is sloppy seconds! Right now! We've got to move fast to get the digital pictures onto this laptop for the evening news break! That was part of the deal, remember? OK, now move your hairy ass. My turn!" Bent over the table. painfully bound. Tawny moaned as one big organ slid out of her, only to be replaced by another, smaller, lunging cock. Not again! Still wet from Phil, she noted that this guy---clearly the brains of the two--was not a very good fuck. Oh well. Everyone came.(Tawny about five times). Al (that was George)finished sodomizing her and said: "Now let's really tie good ole Sylvia up. On the floor. hogtied. Be sure the tattoo and the pussy ring shows. " Tossed to the floor like a particularly delectable piece of meat, Tawny was spread, photographed, rolled over, photod again and again. Every intimate detail of her lush body was revealed.' "These goddam masks! I'm sweatingl ike Karl Rove! "We've got the pix, let's make sure our princess don't see our faces." Al produced a black tight fittinng sleep mask and fastened it over Tawny's frantically rolling eyes. It was very snug; Tawny screamed out as she was effectively blinded. Fucking and bondage were one thing, but this--! The kidnappers pulled off their damp masks. "Tht George Bush is an ugly, fucker, ain't he?" mused Phil. Al was already at the laptop, relaying the pictures and the ransom demands: One million dollars. And as he sent the message, he secretly cellphoned his employer Sol Castle: "Deal complete pickup and delivery as scheduled." THE STING--SIX Sol Castle!! Of course. The whole kidnapping had ben a publicity stunt to bolster Astro's sagging balance sheet. But Sylvia had refused to play along. So Barry and his naive, lookalike client and the whole fake kidnapping had been rigged. Sylia was kept vague as to the details: she was to remain secluded in her castle during the actual snatch, and just follow orders. "Only a million bucks?" she pouted as Sol explained the plot, "I'm certainly worth more than that!" "Once, maybe. Now here's the plan. Rock Hammer--you remember him--and your dykey secretary are in on this, too." That had been almost a month ago. And now. still blindfolded, nude, handcuffed with some sort of heavy chain, Tawny, or Sylvia squirmed on the cold leather seat of the ATV as it sped into the Hollywood Hills--to the base of the famous sign, in fact. Three hours earlier, Sol Castle clicked off his private cellphone from Al's cail and smiled. Now to start the whole phony ball of wax in motion! First call was to his favorite TV source, Georgia Spruance--she'd be sure to leak the lurid details to as many of her sources a possible, taking credit for the scoop, of course. Within minutes, the 24hour channels were breathlessly hinting that a celebrity kidnapping had occurred: Rumor has it that Sylvia Slate, voluptuous star, has been--Studio head desolate! Police on the case! Details at nine!. Then Sol called his old cronies, the police chief and the newly elected ambitious Hispanic mayor. Both owed him favors, and this one seemed so small; just go along with a "staged event" as Sol put it, and told them the details: timing, phony ransom. dramatic rescue, the whole enchilada. Details in place, he poured himself several ounces of Grey Goose vodka from his office freezer. Just one detail to be sure of. Sylvia herself. He had judged her to be too vain and too dumb to go along after his intial offer some weeks earlier, All she had been told was the date (today's) and told to make herself scarce at the guest house on her estate for about--OH, six hours, Sylvia was not that dumb, She knew that the kidnap plot was probably afoot. That poor girll! Ah well Show business! It's a tough life out here! So as Tawny was being kidnapped and abused. Sylvia. Patricia Pritchard and her bodyguard, Rock Hammer, were enjoying martinis on the patio of the secluded cottage on the estate. Boris had just arrived with another icy pitcher of drinks. Sylvia in the midst of one of her favorite reminiscences ...."And dear Cary Grant. They said he was gay, of course. but he was really hung..." , idly motioned for Boris to pour her another drink. He, Hammer, and even Pritchard were in on the charade. This was no ordinary martini Sylvia now swallowed. Boris had laced it with a dose of rohypnol, the infamou 'date rape' drug. It worked fast. "And that Gregory Peck! Or Pecker! she continued, now slurring. "SShit I'm getting so sleepy! Think I'll lie down." In minutes, she was sprawled on the chaise lounge, black negligee gaping. "Now What?" said the British secretary nervously. "How long will she be--Oh I'm not sure that I like this one bit!' Boris grinned as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. "Oh, I think you'll like it a lot. And so will Sylvia, Too bad she won't remember, though. Right, Hammer?" Pritchard gasped as the two men undressed. "Surely your'e not goiing to--I mean, I consented to go along with this--this little joke--but --Oh dear! Oh my! " Baris had stripped now, and was caressing Slyvia's breasts. She smiled .. not quite stuporus yet. Though a thourough going lesbian, Pat had had had some heterosexual exposure. but this!~ And Boris, already erect as he slid into his employer's pouting pussy, was so big! "I must say. this is--I'll have no part in this--this rape! I just promised to--" Pritchard protested as Hammer. wearing an oldfashioned undershirt and droopy boxer shorts. 50's style;( He was well endowed as well, she couldn't help but notice), leered at her, grabbing one wrist of her tweed jacket. "In for a penny, in for a pound, as you Brits say. You get to watch. Better yet, you get to join us! A foursome! How about it, Boris.?" Pritchard quailed as he tore off her coat, fumbled at her tailored skirt. Boris, now plowing a moaning, halfconscious Sylvia, turned his head and laughed; "Damn straight, Rock! If you can still get it up!" Pat struggled. but the actor was far too strong. She gasped and then wept as he stripped off her blouse, her lacy bra and panties, exposiing a surprosingly luxuriant brunette bush with pink labia peeping out coyly. He forced her over a low end table, and spit on his fingers to lubricate her nearly virginal pussy. Her breasts flattened against the table, she shuddered and continued to weep as she experienced his loathesome painful pernetration. Deep! And deeper! and now--- Boris stood, smiling, as he pulled out of Sylvia and prepred to roll her over for a sustained bout of sodomy. "Rockl you old devil! Tell you what--In ten minutes or so, let's switch. I've had my eyes on that prim little quiff for some time now, and I know youll want to do Sylvia before she passes out completely. Youll lke that , won't you, Sylvia?" He patted her round ass as she smiled dreamily and stirred as he fingered her anus. Well, let's not get carried away. Suffice it to say as Tawny was being fucked in the kidnappers trailer, Boris and Hammer enjoyed a good 40 minuted of inventive sex. Poor Patricia was rogered. fore and aft. by both men. They finally left her trembiing and almost hysterical; How could she--she!--have allowed herself to climax so often with these men--these brutes? She was dazed as they led her back to the mansion, to Sylvia's bedroom. She scarcely protested when they tied her up with some of the silk bed canopy cords, gagged her with a convenent scarf and left her hog tied on the big bed. Hammer had a final inspiration. "If all goes well. the cops will be here in an hour! Poor little secretary. here, was bound and ravished trying to fight off the kidnappers! That's your story? right?" She nodded miserably. "And one more thiing! Youu brits fancy a little corporal pumishment, do you not? Boris, roll her over." It took only a few dozen hefty slaps to turn Pritchard's pale, peaches and cream English buttocks into a flaming canvas of pink and red welts. They left her, sobbing. Now to prepare their own alibis. SEVEN The Mayor and police chief and Sol faced a hastily convened press briefing. Sol spoke inn a husky voice as cameras clicked: "The rumors are true. I'm afraid. One of tinseltown's most incandescent stars haas been brutally kidnapped. But there is good news! With their usual resoursefulness, city officials are expecting a speedy arrest. I'm afraid I can't go into details. But, i beg you. let us handle it. TV, press, please stay away for a few hours!" Sugar to flies. Of course all of the press, mobile vans, even a chopper or two followed the three powerful men in their limousine, flanked by dozens of squad cars. into the Hollywood Hills. Only thirty minutes earlier, Phil and All had led their blindfolded nude captive to the steel bars of the first letter 'L'. She sobbed as they recuffed her, hands behind her back to a heavy waist chain, which ran between her legs to a padlock securing her to the sign. Both kidnappers fondled her shivering curves. "Hurry up!" Al said, reaching for a large briefcase hidden in the nearby brush. He opened it: crisp packets of hundred dollar bills winked back at him. "It's all here! a cool mil! Let's get out of here! Parting is such sweet sorrow. Sylvia. And you may be the world's greatest piece of ass!--It's been real!" Al gave her goosepimpled bottom one last pat and then the men were gone. But not for long.. A GPS locator, accurate to nearly 3 meters, had been stashed along with the cash. The unlucky pawns in Sol's game had gotten only as far as Anaheim before they heard the first of many police sirens. Now, chained, blindfolded, totally helpless--and freezing, LA nights can be chilly-- Tawny broke down completely. She was on her knees, whimpering, chained to the huge sign when police searchlights headed up the rough gravel road outlined her naked body . Soon police were everywhere. The black limo braked ,spraying gravel. Sol sprung out, waving off the uniformed men as he rushed to Tawny's side. Oddly enough, he had a heavy set of bolt cutters in his hand; in a few seconds he cut the chain abd cradled the trembling woman in his arms. She was too miserable to resist or even understand what was happening. She was so cold... Sol and the mayor bundled her into the limo. Sol bellowing: "Weve got her back! She needs immediate medical attention. Please, no photographs right now!". He made sure that the papparazzi who had crowded the site got a few good shots of Tawny's voluptuous ass--especially that haunch with the tattoo. Quickly,the limo sped away; the chief had signalled his officers to follow--but at an discreet distance. The caravan sped to Sylvia's mansion. Hammer and Boris were at the door. apparently startled and distraugt. "We just saw the TV, Mr Castle! We've been looking everywhere! She 's really gone!" "Not to fear, men! Our precious jewel has been restored. Better get her upstairs. Get a doctor. get a locksmith! And hurry!" Tawny was warmer now. and coherent. She struggled as the three men carried into the pink and white suite, still blindfolded and chained. They would have put her in the middle of the big bed, but it was already occupied--by Pat Pritchard, tied and gagged, spanked bottom still throbbing. "Holy shit! I mean, Good Lord!" Soi cried out. "What has happened to?...Ah, the doctor is here: amd the handcuff guy, too. Everyone else out, please! No more cameras!" Tawmy was unchained and tore off the blindfold. She was fully awake now. "What in hell is going on here? Who are you people? Hammer. is that you? Where is Sylv......" "Clearly delirious. State of shock." said the silver haired doctor who now give her an injection. He was a renowned Dr. Feelgood type who dispensed B12 shots , uppers and downers or any other drugs to Sol's stable of actors. Tawny said: "Where's Sylvia? I'e been kidnapped and raped. don'y you underst--sthand...." The powereful drug was already working. The doctor nodded sadly; "Clearly delusonal , as I said. Needs absolute rest. So does this poor girl." He reached for Pritchard, still tied, sputtering behind her gag and glaring at the crowd (especially Hammer) and gave her another quickacting shot in her bruised ass cheek. Now both naked women were groggy as Sol and the doctor ushered everyone else save Hammer and Boris out of the ornate chamber. Sol, gracious and assured. was doing yet one more TV interview.. Meanwhile, Rock and Boris were shuttling the near unconscious women : Tawny and Pat were secluded in the guest house while Sylvia was deposited into her own bed, smiling dreamily as the two men handled her voluptuous body; it would be at least four hours until the date rape drug wore off and she awoke, slightly disoriented, but aware of her throbbing genital area. She called out groggily: "Pritchard! Where am I? Where are you": two unfamiliar nurses hovered over her. Sol was at her side and patted her hand as he pulled the sheet over her sprawled nude form. "Sylvia, my darling. You've had such an ordeal! How much do you rememer! The reporters aare so insistent! I'm afrais you'll need to speal tp them soon.! You were kidnapped of course, photographed and assaulted. Surely you remember that part. We paid the ransom' and rescueyou; Chained to the Hollywood sign, remember?" Sylvia rubbed her eyes, puzzled. then touched herself under the sheet. "It's all so--fuzzy! But yes , I remember being fucked ,lots of times, and I think Pritchard, too--where is she?" Sol Castle said: "Ms. Pritchard was called back to London this morning, I'm afraid. Family emergency. Also it seems she had overstayed her visa. But she wasn't kidnapped, you were! Just as you feared! Two men in masks, remember?" I'm--I'm not sure. I know i was fucked!! But the rest--why can't I remember?" "Because you've had a severe trauma, a memory lapse. Listen, let me tell you exactly what awful things you endured. I want you to be clear on the details before your interview. I know you need your rest, but perhaps its best to tell your story now and get it out of your system. There will be lots of publicity, regretfully, but that may not be all bad, as a career move for you: "Sexy star Kidnapped, Violated!" Good for ratings! Hollywood, you know. " Sylvia nodded gratefully. Sol was so smart! "Jost fill me in on the details, then, give an hour to fix myself up--I do miss Pritchrd, --and I'll be ready for the media. " EIGHT Tawny awoke a few hours later. She remembered the kidnapping, of course, the tight bondage and rape, and those horrid chains, that chilly blindfolded ordeal on the hillside.. And then rescue, several injections, and then? Her memory was blank. She stirred. She was nude, in bed, in an unfamiliar room. She made it to the bathroom. showered, brushed her hair, gradually became more alert. Where was she? The bedroom suite door seemed to be locked; she had found aside from the towels, only one thin silk dressng gown to wear. The sun was bright overhead, it must be noon. And there was a television set. Tawny's First Time Tawny is a junior in college. She's never had sex and has only seen three cocks in her life. They were all white and the biggest was 8 inches (her current boyfriend's). She has always wondered who had the biggest cock on campus. Big cocks turned her on so much. She got so wet watching her boyfriend's 8 inch cock swell with veins and liked it when his head throbbed in her mouth. She loved sucking on his cock, but they still hadn't had sex. Tawny was a petite girl with a ghetto booty. Her ass stuck out rather nicely. Tawny worked out regularly and had a 15% body fat (20% being the average college girl's), but her butt stuck out nice and firm. Several black men had asked her out, but she never had the guts to say yes. Plus, she was pretty sure she couldn't even handle her boyfriend's 8 inch cock, she couldn't even take two fingers because she was so tight. She could suck a good dick, though. Her boyfriend would spend the night a lot and make her cum many times just by eating her out, and by fingering her clit, but she never had a vaginal orgasm. Whenever her boyfriend didn't spend the night, she would masturbate either with her fingers or with the eight inch black vibrator her boyfriend had bought her. He wanted her to use it to stretch out a little. She wanted to have sex, but she was scared it would hurt too much. Her boyfriend was 19 and she was 20. She was ready to fuck him. But, on the weekend she wanted to give her self to him, he had to go out of town to a family reunion. She was so worked up and then the bad news came that he wasn't going to be there. What was she to do? She had thought all week long about that weekend, how she was going to finally get a cock thrusted into her tight puss. Well, she watched her boyfriend drive off. She was wearing a white thong and a short skirt. The thong was soaking wet with her juice. Her nipples were the hardest they've ever been. She sighed and went to her room to get the vibrator. She would stick it inside herself (she'd never done that before) she figured she'd get stretched out a little so that when her boyfriend got back, she'd be able to fuck him with less pain. She lifted up her skirt as she spread open on the bed, aiming the tip of the vibrator at her opening. She had pulled her thong to the side... Then the phone rang. She picked it up. "Hello?" she said agitated that she had been interrupted. "Hi, is this Tawny?" It sounded like a black male's voice. "Yeah, who is this?" She asked. "This is Tyrone Jackson, from the basketball team... how you doing?" Tawny knew who he was. He was the tallest guy on campus. 7' 3", he was a giant. She used to play basket ball in highschool, so she thought he was cool. She wondered what he wanted? "So what's going on?" "I heard you needed a subject to do your project on so I thought I would give you a call." Fuck! She had forgotten that she had to do a skin fold fat percentage test by monday (in two days). "Yeah, that's right. I guess we could set something up..." "How about right now?" Tyrone asked. "I got nothing better to do right now." Tawny was eager to get back to her session with her vibrator, but she did need to get that project done for her exercise science class. "Okay, can you come over in about twenty minutes?" "Sure," Tyrone said. Tawny gave him directions to her apartment. About twenty minutes later, he showed up at the door. He was wearing a pair of running shorts and a sleeveless shirt. He towered over her 5' 2" body. Her eyes were level with his lower stomach. "Come on in," she said as he stepped into her apartment. "Nice toy," Tyrone said, pointing to her night stand. How embarrassing! She had forgotten about the eight inch black vibrator. Blushing, she put it away. Tyrone checked her out while she bent over to put the vibrator under her bed. He saw her thong and how wet it was. "I bet I can get with this bitch," he thought to himself. Tawny started administering the skin fold test. She had to get on a chair to measure his chest. There was not a single ounce of fat on his muscular chest. Tyrone begin to get aroused as she measured his body. He begin to feel his cock swell. His boxers weren't very long under his shorts, he was worried he might hang out. She had come to the part of the skin fold test where she had to pinch his inner thigh. She was nervous and a little embarrassed. She didn't even have to bend over to do it. She reached under his shorts, not very far up, and to her surprise, she brushed up against something that felt like an arm. She looked up embarrassed and saw Tyrone smiling. She withdrew her arm from his shorts and out fell the tip of Tyrone's black dick. It was hanging out of his shorts! Her jaw dropped and with out even knowing it said, "oh my god!" Tyrone liked this. His dick became even longer. Tawny's eyes were locked on his veiny tip. She subconsciously looked up and with her look, asked Tyrone if she could see the rest. He gave her the nod. She pulled down his shorts to his ankles and was in awe. Tyrone's cock hung about nine inches limp. She cupped his big balls, one in each hand, and marveled at the giant snake. She felt her self dripping again. Tyrone could smell it. Tawny ran her small white hands up and down the cock. She giggled as it throbbed and became even bigger. She bent over slightly to get a closer look, Tyrone got so excited that his cock jumped a few inches larger and hit her in the face. Tawny's cheek had a smudge of precum on it. She told Tyrone to sit down on her bed. She then opened her mouth as wide as she could, but she could barely put her lips around the beer can thick cock. She could barely get the whole head in. She sucked extremely hard, to her surprise the cock grew even more, to a total of 15 inches. She began gagging and coughed up a little white stuff. She then grabbed the cock with both hands and rubbed it up in down with the end in her mouth. She paused every now and then to remove an article of clothing until she was totally naked. Tyrone knew he would break her. She was so tight. Tawny kept on sucking away, but Tyrone had enough. He picked her up the underarms, and lowered her onto his rod. At first, her hole was so tight that he did not even penetrate. She was balancing on his 15 inch monster, so Tyrone began fondling her breasts and nipples. This made Tawny even wetter. She slowly slid down the rod, screaming in pain the whole time. It filled her up. Once the whole thing was in, Tawny was about to have a heart attack. She was breathing so fast, her whole body was red, she couldn't stop moaning in pain. Tyrone lifted her up and down on his cock, and soon the pain turned into pleasure for Tawny. When Tyrone noticed that she wasn't hurting anymore, he put her on her back on the bed, got on her, squeezed her hips together, and thrusted as violently as he could, she screamed so loud that her everyone on her floor and the floor above heard her. She began feeling very good. She had a violent spasm of pleasure that lasted several minutes. After her orgasm, she was worn out. She just laid back breathless. But Tyrone wasn't done with her. He flipped her over on her stomach and poked her ass in the air. His cock was covered in her juice, so he figured he had enough lubrication, he rammed his 15 inch cock into Tawny's tight ass. He grabbed her cheeks with his giant hands and squeezed. Tawny was in shock. She had never felt like that before. It hurt so bad, she could feel every inch. Tyrone grabbed hold of her hair and pulled back on it. She began to like it, though. And soon, she came again. After that, she was pretty much passed out. Tyrone pulled out, put her on her knees (on the bed), stood up, and made her clean his cock with her tongue. Then he began to feel that old feeling, so he shoved his cock in Tawny's mouth and stroked off until he released the largest load of his life. Tawny choked and spit out what seemed like gallons of cum. But Tyrone wasn't done, he was still shootin' off. A large wad hit Tawny in the right eye. Another wad shot to her neck and dripped down her breasts. Tyrone's final blow went into Tawny's hair. She was completely covered in cum from her breasts up. She didn't know what to do. She thought it was gross, but loved it too! Tyrone put on his shorts and left her like that. Tawny sat back and thought about what just happened. She had sex, both vaginal and anal, for the first time, she saw the largest dick she'd probably ever see, and she got drenched in cum. What would she tell her boyfriend when he got back. She still liked him a lot, and he would definitely notice she was loose. She tried to get up to go to the bathroom and wash off, but she couldn't walk. It hurt way too much. She crawled to the bathtub and got in. She kept on thinking about Tyrone's 15 inch cock. She didn't notice, but she was fingering herself in the bath tub. She figured she'd tell her boyfriend she used the vibrator and that stretched her out. She hoped he would buy it. And he did. So they had sex when he got back. But whenever they have sex, she always thinks about Tyrone and his monstrous cock. She wondered if she would ever see it again. But she knew that she'd been played. Tawny's Hair Nobody had hair like Tawny. It was long and thick and red and Seth wanted to run his hands through it every time he saw it but he thought Tawny's boyfriend might object! Her hair was so amazing. Really amazing! Tawny was tall and thin and not usually Seth's type but there was something about Tawny that drove him crazy. It was her hair. Tawny also had the most beautiful eyes that Seth had ever seen. He could sit and gaze into her eyes all day. She was very exotic looking and sexy. Tawny really did turn heads everywhere she went. Seth knew Tawny and her roommate Janie from his freshman chemistry class. Seth and Janie had become fast friends. They both liked the same bands and websites and were both art majors. Tawny was majoring in business and was a little bit more serious and on the straight and narrow. She was going out with her high school sweetheart who just happened to be the starting quarterback at the college. It was halfway through the first semester when tragedy struck. Seth had been caught drinking beer in his dorm room. Well actually it was more like drinking beer, starting a fight, vandalizing the conference room and having twenty issues of penthouse magazines in his room. He only got a stern lecture from the college itself but he was banned from on campus dorms for the rest of the year. Seth was in shock! How could he get his college work done being homeless? His parents would kill him! What would he do? Seth was sitting on a bench in front of his former home with piles of his belongings heaped around him, when who should come walking his way but Tawny and Janie! Janie was dancing down the sidewalk sing "Even better than the real thing." It was a little off key but her dancing sure was good! He liked the way she swayed her hips from side to side as she glided down the sidewalk. Tawny recognized Seth first. "Hey Seth!" She called out. This doesn't look good!" "Oh my god Seth!" Janie chimed in. "What happened?" "My life is over!" Seth moaned. "I got kicked out of my dorm and now I'm afraid I'll have to leave the college." "You don't have any friends here you can room with?" Tawny asked. "You're the only two I know." Seth replied. "Wow a real life homeless man!" Tawny laughed. She handed Seth her diet mountain dew. "I think you're going to need this more than me." She said. "Gee thanks Tawny." Seth said. Despite his dire circumstances and the gravity of the situation, his cock was starting to twitch every time he looked up and saw Tawny's hair flying proudly in the wind. "We'll see you later Seth." Janie said and the two continued on down the pathway. Seth took a swig of the diet Dew and bowed his head in submission. He was definitely a dead man. He lost track of how long he sat with his head down in despair. He was bought back to reality by a soft hand on his shoulder. "Seth?" Seth looked up and saw Tawny and Janie standing there. Tawny spoke first. "Seth, Janie and I talked it over and we want you to move in with us. We have an extra room in our apartment and we know you're a nice guy." She said. "You mean it?" He smiled up at them. "Yes!" Janie chimed in. "But!" She said. "We have some ground rules that you have to follow. No girls, no drugs, no parties and no funny stuff with either one of us. Can you handle that?" Seth acknowledged that he could. He knew he would have a hard time being in the same building with Tawny's hair everyday but ...he thought he could handle it! The three of them hauled Seth's belongings to their new home and got settled in. The first few weeks were uneventful. By the third week, Seth's fetish for Tawny's hair was starting to affect him. He had been dreaming about it all week and masturbating two sometimes three times a day about her hair. He even went so far as to steal one of her hairbrushes. It was late Friday night and both Tawny and Janie were fast asleep. Seth was naked except for a pair of boxers. He snuck down to Tawny's room and opened the door. He just couldn't control himself. He stood next to Tawny's bed and looked down. There she was in all her glory and beauty. Her hair was loose and all over the bed. She was sound asleep. Seth pulled out his cock and started to stroke it right they're next to Tawny's bed. If her boyfriend ever found out about this Seth knew that he was a dead man. He started stroking his cock faster and he was in such a state of arousal that within seconds he started to cum. His first rope of cum landed just above her forehead and into her hair. His second landed right across her forehead and the third landed beside her head and on the hair that was lying there. Seth exited the room quickly and quietly ran back to his bed. What had he just done? Was he insane? Was he some kind of pervert? He had a restless night as thoughts of prison ran through his head. The next morning Seth and Janie were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee and talking about their favorite U2 songs. Seth insisted it was something older like "I will Follow" while Janie liked "One" or "Mysterious Ways" much better. \Tawny stormed into the kitchen. "What the fuck is in my hair?" She yelled. "And where is my favorite brush? " Tawny's hair was matted up in two places and Seth knew why! Seth sat there horrified and hoped his expression didn't give him away. Janie just started laughing. "You need to be more careful. You know your bathroom is a mess. It's a wonder you don't have more problems like this!" "Ha Ha." Tawny hissed. "Laugh it up Janie." With that Tawny stormed back into her bedroom. Seth inwardly sighed in relief. He hadn't been caught. It was later that night and Seth had that uncontrollable urge again. It was like something was taking over his mind. He couldn't help himself. He got up and walked into Tawny's bedroom. This time he was completely out of control. He gently picked up a handful of Tawny's lush, red hair and wrapped it around his cock and started to masturbate his cock with it! He went slowly so as not to pull her hair or wake her up. Tawny snorted a little in her sleep but never woke up. Lucky for Seth she was a very sound sleeper. Even though he was going slowly and gently, the feeling of Tawny's thick hair on his cock was too much and Seth erupted within only a couple of minutes. It felt like he was cuming in gallons, deep into Tawny's hair. When he was done he quickly got up and left her room in a hurry. As he was leaving Tawny's room he could have sworn that Janie's door had just shut. He ran back to his room and lay there sleeplessly again. He waited and waited for the cops to come, but they never did. The next morning was much the same as the previous one, with Tawny complaining about her matted hair again and Janie laughing it off. This was two nights in a row that Seth hadn't gotten any sleep and it was showing with the bags under his eyes. That night, the urge again took over Seth and he crept down to Tawny's room. Tawny was again asleep with her hair covering her pillow and most of the upper part of her bed. Seth grabbed a handful of Tawny's hair and wrapped it around his cock again and started to jack himself off with it. In mid stroke he felt a hand on his shoulder! "I want to watch." Janie's voice said from behind him. It was too late to stop now so Seth kept sliding Tawny's hair up and down the length of his cock. He started to moan a little bit as he quickened his pace. "I want to taste you." Janie said from behind him and got down on her knees. Seth released Tawny's hair and turned to face Janie. Janie leaned forward taking Seth into her mouth. Seth had only been seconds away from cuming in Tawny's hair and as soon as Janie's wet, warm mouth engulfed his cock, he erupted. Janie slid her lips up and down the upper part of his cock has he emptied his sperm into her mouth. "Oh god Janie!" Seth said. "Thank you and I'm sorry. What must you think of me?" "I think you taste real fine Seth. That's what I think." She replied "And I think I need the next taste!" Tawny yelled from the bed. Seth froze in shock. Had they known all along? Yes they had! The rest of that night was spent exploring each other's bodies and realizing some of Seth's wildest fantasies. That will be told in another story thought!