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Transition

By: boxofrocks



The storm raged outside. A flash of lightening lit the room as Jeanne threw her head back in ecstasy. 

"Oh Og, yes!" she moaned as her husband buried himself deep between her thighs. Jeanne arched her back as she felt the familiar stir marking the beginning or her first climax. Her fingernails dug deep into Og's back as her muscles tightened around his cock. With her eyes closed tight, Jeanne cried out as the explosion within erupted. A loud clap of thunder and a flash of lightening muffled her scream as her insides quaked with intensity.

* * * * *

Sarah moaned, careful not to make too much noise incase her parents heard. 

"Oh God, Mark," she breathed. Sarah's inner muscles clamped around Mark's cock as he pounded his hips into hers. With a loud moan, Sarah closed her eyes tight as the ferocity of her orgasm peaked. A clap of thunder followed closely by a flash of lightening drowned out her cries as her orgasm erupted.

* * * * *

Jeanne opened her eyes to darkness. The lights had gone out due to the ferocity of the storm. With her lover still pounding into her, she clawed her nails down his back.

"I'm gonna cum," Mark cried as he buried his face into the pillow. "Gnh... Mmph." Mark buried himself deep inside Jeanne as his cum shot in spurts deep inside her.

"God Og, you feel so big baby," Jeanne whispered. 

With a start, Mark forced himself upright. With his weight held by his arms, he strained against the darkness to see.

"Og?" he asked. "I'm not your fucking Dad!"

"Mark?" Jeanne fought to pull the sheet over her nakedness as the recognition of his voice registered.

"What the fuck?" Mark withdrew his now flaccid cock from her and grabbed for his shorts.

Jeanne looked around the darkened room. Seeing the dark outline of the dresser against the wall, she suddenly realized she was in her daughter's room. Too shocked to respond, she clutched the sheet tight to her chest as Mark fumbled in the dark to dress. 

"I - I'm sorry," Mark mumbled, as he stumbled toward the bedroom window.

* * * * *

Sarah opened her eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness. With her body still sending small after shocks from her orgasm, she thrust her hips toward her lover.

"God, Jeanne, you're so tight," Og said as he felt his balls tighten. "I'm going to cum baby." With his head buried into her shoulder, he pumped his cock into her as the pressure of his sperm shot up the length of his cock. "Oh God," he moaned as the sperm shot out to fill her cavity.

"Dad?" Sarah's eyes shot open wide in horror as her father spewed the last of his load deep inside her.

"Sarah?" In sheer horror, Og fought back the bile that was building in his throat. Pulling his flaccid cock from his daughter, Og grabbed the sheet and pulled it around his waist. 

Sarah instinctively placed her hands to her chest in a desperate attempt to cover herself. With a gasp, she sobbed.

"My breast," she cried. "I only have one breast!"

Not hearing her words, Og hid the revoltion he was feeling as he fumbled for his clothes. 

Jeanne made her way down the hall, guilt and shame causing tears to stream down her face as she found the doorknob. Hearing the voice of her daughter coming from inside, Jeanne flung the door open.

"No!" she sobbed as she saw the outline of her husband pulling up his trousers. 

"What's going on?" Sarah cried, as she pulled the sheet over herself. "Mum?"

"I don't know," Jeanne sobbed. Clutching the doorframe for support, she felt the tears sting her eyes as Og made his way toward her.

"I'll grab some torches from the basement," he whispered as he kissed Jeanne's hair softly. As Og made his way down the darkened hallway, Jeanne moved to the bed. 

"W - where's Mark?" Sarah asked, her head reeling as reality set in. 

"He's gone," Jeanne replied, her tone deepening as she tried to make out her daughter's face in the dark. "We have to talk about that too." 

The sound of Og returning brought the pair's thoughts back to the situation at hand. The yellow circular beams lit up the hall as they neared the open doorway. 

"I found the torches, but couldn't find the candles, Jeanne," he said as he entered the bedroom.

"They're in the kitchen drawer," Jeanne offered, shielding her eyes from the sudden brightness. Standing gobsmacked, Og stared at the two women on the bed. 

Now that she could see, Jeanne turned to look at Sarah. Her mouth fell open as she looked into her own eyes. Sarah sat, her mouth open as she looked at her mother sitting in what had been only a few minutes ago, her own body.

"Th - this is impossible," Jeanne stammered. Holding her hands to her face, she traced her fingers over her nose and mouth. "It can't be possible!"

"What are we going to do?" Sarah cried hysterically. 

Og fell to the side of the bed dumbfounded. He glanced at the women shaking his head in disbelief. 

"Maybe Mrs. Denton from next door can help," he offered. The two women stared at him in disgust. "She's into that witchy stuff. Maybe she'll know how to fix this." With a shrug, Og fell silent. 

"Mum, I only have one boob," Sarah said in a husky whisper, pulling the sheet away so her mother could see her flat chest. 

Getting to her feet, Jeanne fought back the tears. "Let's go ask Mrs. Denton now. No-one could sleep in a storm like this. Let's see if she's still up."

"But Mum, I only have one boob!" Sarah began to protest.

"I think we have more to worry about than your damn boob!" Jeanne shouted as she grabbed the torch from Og's hand. "Get dressed and let's go."

Reluctantly, Sarah held the sheet tight to her chest as she climbed from the bed. A glob of cum made its way slowly down her inner thigh as she picked up one of the torches and made her way to her bedroom. Standing in front of her dresser, Sarah let the sheet fall in a pool at her feet as she stared at the image reflected back at her. 

"I only have one boob," she sobbed. Looking at her face, she stared into her mother's eyes, which were now her own. "And I'm old!"

"Sarah?" Og called from the hall. "Come on, let's go before it gets too late."

"Coming," she called, taking a last look at her reflection before moving to her wardrobe.

"Mum, I don't think any of my clothes are going to fit. I'll have to borrow something of yours." Sarah called, after scanning the contents of her wardrobe. A few moments later, Jeanne entered the room with a pair of pants and a grey sweater.

"Here, put these on," she said, handing the clothes to Sarah. Looking ridiculous in a pair of trackpants rolled up at the ankles, with an over-sized sweat-top hanging loosely, Jeanne caught sight of her reflection. "God, I hope she can fix this mess," she whispered aloud.

* * * * *

The rain fell heavily as the trio made their way through their neighbor's front gate. The gate protested noisily over the sound of the rain, groaning as Og held it open for Jeanne and Sarah.

Running up the path, they bound their way up the three small steps to the shelter of the small porch. With a sharp rap on the door, Og pulled his jacket around his ears. Glancing at his daughter, then slowly to Jeanne, he sent a silent prayer to the Gods that Mrs. Denton could help.

"Knock again," Jeanne said, feeling a trickle of water make its way down her back.

Og raised his fist to knock, just as the door opened slightly. 

"Hello?" came a soft voice. 

"Mrs. Denton. It's Jeanne and Og Bashan from next door," Jeanne explained. "We're sorry to bother you so late, but we could really use your help." Forgetting she was in Sarah's body, Jeanne blushed as Mrs. Denton opened the door wider and looked at her strangely.

"Something happened and now I only have one boob," Sarah blurted. Og gave her a knowing glare as he offered to explain.

"Something, I don't know what, caused the women to switch bodies. Before you say anything, please hear me out," he said. "I know it sounds impossible, but it's happened and we were hoping you may be able to help us."

After staring silently at the trio for some time, Mrs. Denton cleared her throat. 

"I guess you had better come in," she said, opening the door wide. 

Inside, the small lounge was lit by dozens of brightly colored candles. On a small circular table, a bible lay open. The aroma of incense permeated the air as Mrs. Denton led them toward the sofa. 

"Please, take a seat," she offered. With a forced smile, Jeanne sat beside Og. 

"We really need your help," Jeanne pleaded. "I'm trapped inside Sarah's body," glancing over at Sarah, she continued, "and Sarah is in mine."

"And I only have one boob," Sarah whined.

"I see," Mrs. Denton said, wringing her hands tight together. "And what exactly were you both doing when this transition took place?"

Jeanne lowered her eyes, feeling the warmth rise to her face. Sarah blushed, before blurting, 

"I was having sex. It was dark when I opened my eyes and I was fucking Dad, now I only have one boob!"

Seeing the look of disgust on Mrs. Denton's face, or was that intrigue, Og couldn't quite be sure as he added,

"I was having sex, err, making love with Jeanne when they swapped bodies."

Mrs. Denton sat, mindlessly turning the gold band on her finger as she contemplated her next move. She watched as the transformed Sarah mouthed, 'I only have one boob', before finally getting to her feet.

"I will have to look in one of my books. I'm sure there will be something in there that may be of help." Not waiting for a response, she left the room. It was ten minutes or so later before she returned, carrying a heavy leather bound book. Not saying a word, she sat back in her seat and flicked through the pages.

"Okay," she said, not to anyone in particular, "it says here, for a reversal spell to work, it has to be performed within 24 hours of the enigma's occurrence. We're safe there." Rubbing a finger under her eye, she inhaled deep. "The parties must re-enact what they were doing in detail for the transition to be reversed..." Looking up from the book, she glanced at her guests. "So I guess you'll have to have sex again and hopefully that will reverse it."

"What, that's it?" Jeanne asked. 

"But Mark..." Sarah started to protest, before Mrs. Denton interrupted her.

"If it was during sex, climax must have been the trigger." Waiting for a confirmation, she continued. "I'll need a sample from each of the parties involved before we can begin."

"But Mark went home," Sarah said, arms folded across her chest. "And why do I only have one boob?"

"Aah," Mrs. Denton said, consulting her book once more for an answer. "It says here, that if a transition fails to be complete, then one or more of the parties had impure thoughts at the time of change."

Sarah fell silent as she thought back to her orgasm and how she'd fought to stop herself screaming out her cousin's name. With a blush, she asked,

"Can an incomplete transition be fixed?"

"An incomplete transition can only be restored if the bond between the parties involved at the time of conversion holds stronger than the impurity of thoughts perceived." Looking up at Sarah she explained, "In other words, you must feel stronger for the person involved than the person/thing that inspired the impure thoughts."

"But what do we do about Mark? He's not here," Og asked.

Blushing, Jeanne looked at Mrs. Denton. 

"Would his sperm work to reverse the transition?" Not daring to look at her husband, Jeanne cleared her throat and kept her gaze on the woman before her.

"Yes. As long as we have something from each of you, then it should work." Mrs. Denton stood, before adding, "I'll need each of you to place a sample, and if this Mark's sample is going to be fluid, then I'll need the same from each of you." Reaching into the long cabinet beside her chair, Mrs. Denton pulled out an oil burner and placed a small candle beneath the bowl. 

"I'll need to go to the toilet to retrieve Mark's sample," Jeanne said, feeling her face burning again.

"Do it here," Mrs. Denton said, passing the burner to Jeanne. "We don't want to waste any more time."

Feeling the damp patch in her panties, Jeanne turned away as she reached her hand inside her pants and slid a finger deep inside herself. A thick glob of cum stuck to her finger as she retrieved it from the front of her pants. Taking the burner, she smeared the cum inside the shallow bowl before passing it to Og. Just as he was about to spit in the bowl, Sarah coughed.

"Wait, Dad," she said. Reaching down the front of her pants, she mimicked Jeanne's actions, producing a thick white coating on her finger and smeared it around the bowl of the burner.

"Okay," Mrs. Denton said. Picking up the burner, she placed it in the center of the table and lit the candle. With the book held high in front of her, she ordered the trio to close their eyes. Picking up a single rock from a box of rocks beneath the table, she placed it in the center of the burner before beginning her chant. 

"MlledelaPlumeBleu," she shouted, "Give us cloudy days free from rain. Oh Tatelou Abstruse of Charley, the great spirit of wonder. Free their souls and return them from whence they came!"

A spiral of smoke seeped from the bowl as the fluids heated. A distinct aroma of sex permeated the air as Mrs. Denton repeated her chant louder this time.

"MlledelaPlumeBleu. Give us cloudy days free from rain. Oh Tatelou Abstruse of Charley, the great spirit of wonder. Free their souls and return them from whence they came!" A clap of thunder rattled the window panes as she whispered, "It's time."

Jeanne's eyes opened slowly as she watched the spirals of steam billowing from the oil burner. Og sat silent awaiting instruction as Sarah looked over toward her mother.

"Will we have to have sex with the same partner?" she asked.

"It was the climax that triggered the transition, so a climax should have the same effect now we've called upon the spirits." Mrs. Denton started unbuttoning her blouse.

"Wh - what are you doing?" Og asked. The tent beginning to grow in his pants showed his approval at what he was seeing.

"The ladies need to climax simultaneously for it to work. I'm sure it'll be easier if I help." Mrs. Denton slid out of her skirt and watched as Og eagerly unbuttoned his trousers. Jeanne peeled her sweatshirt over her head, then stood to remove her trackpants. Sarah sat silently pouting.

"What are you waiting for?" Jeanne asked her.

"Can I leave my top on?" Sarah asked, her face changing to a deeper shade of red. "I only have one boob."

Mrs. Denton took control and walked over to Sarah. Not giving her a chance to protest, she covered Sarah's mouth with her own and kissed her fervently. She cupped Sarah's breast through the sweatshirt, pulling the fabric up slowly until Sarah's breast was exposed. Her other hand moved inside Sarah's pants, cupping her mound as Sarah instinctively parted her thighs.

Og pulled Jeanne onto his lap and kissed her deep. His hand cupped her breast as she positioned herself over his now rigid cock. Lowering herself onto his pole, she let out a soft moan. 

Mrs. Denton slid two fingers inside Sarah, as she lowered her mouth to her breast. With a flick of her tongue, Sarah's nipple hardened. Taking her nipple into her mouth, Mrs. Denton worked her fingers in and out of Sarah, her thumb worked figure-eights on her clit. Writhing her hips against Mrs. Denton's hand, Sarah threw her head back in ecstasy. 

Jeanne lowered herself onto Og's hardness, moving her clit against his pelvic bone as she buried his cock deep inside her aching pussy. Og's hand moved to her breast, kneading and pulling her nipple as he raised his hips to meet Jeanne's thrusts. 

With her fingers entwined in her hair, Sarah pulled Mrs. Denton's face hard against her breast. 

"Oh God, I'm going to cum already," Sarah moaned. Mrs. Denton removed her hand. 

"You can't! You have to cum together or the transition won't be reversed," she warned.

"It's okay," Jeanne sighed, "I'm about to cum too." Exhaling heavily, Jeanne rolled her hips against Og's. 

Mrs. Denton moved her hand back into Sarah's pants, thrusting two fingers inside her. Moving her mouth back to Sarah's nipple, she worked her thumb vigorously on Sarah's clit. 

"I'm going to cum," Jeanne breathed, looking to Sarah for an okay. Sarah nodded, then threw her head back as her inner walls clamped tight around Mrs. Denton's fingers. 

"Oh God," Sarah moaned, closing her eyes tight as her insides trembled ferociously. Jeanne closed her eyes tight as she felt her own climax grip her. Og thrust himself inside Jeanne as her inner walls gripped his cock spasmodically.

When Jeanne opened her eyes, she felt Mrs. Denton's fingers plunging deep inside her. 

"It worked!" Jeanne cried, moving her hips against Mrs. Denton's hand as small tremors still coursed through her from her orgasm.

Too close to climax to stop, Og buried himself deep inside Sarah as he felt his balls tighten. With a grunt he spewed his seed inside his daughter. Sarah bucked against Og as his cock swelled, sending her over the edge of her second orgasm. Running her hands up her chest, she grabbed at her nipple. Suddenly her eyes shot open wide in horror.

"I still have one boob."

Jeanne glanced up at her daughter, before placing her hands on Mrs. Denton's shoulders and easing her back. Sliding her hands down her torso, she pulled Mrs. Denton's legs over her shoulders and kissed her stomach. Mrs. Denton rolled her head back as Jeanne lowered her mouth to her mound. Jeanne traced her tongue over Mrs. Denton's folds before delving it deep, tasting her salty sweet arousal. 

With her hands on her nipples, Mrs. Denton pulled at her peaks, arching her back as Jeanne worked two fingers inside her. Jeanne moved her lips to Mrs. Denton's clit and sucked it gently into her mouth. Her tongue flicked relentlessly over the hard nub as her fingers worked in and out of Mrs. Denton's soaked pussy. 

Og eased Sarah from his lap, and rubbed at his cock while watching his wife bury her face between their neighbor's legs. 

Mrs. Denton let out a loud moan as her body started to tremble. Jeanne sucked harder on her clit as Mrs. Denton's pussy gripped her fingers tighter. Moving her mouth to Mrs. Denton's opening, Jeanne curled her tongue deep, lapping up her sweet juices as her climax ebbed. Mrs. Denton pulled Jeanne on top of her and kissed her deep. 

"What are we going to do about my boob?" Sarah asked, spoiling the mood.

Jeanne rolled off Mrs. Denton and sighed. 

"Well, I guess we'd all better dress and see if we can get this problem sorted." Mrs. Denton reached for her blouse and skirt and began dressing. "I'll have to console my books again, Sarah."

Sarah sat and watched as everyone got dressed. Her hand mindlessly moved over the flat right-hand side of her chest. A ghostly sensation coursed through her as she felt an ache in the nipple that was no longer there. A feeling, a yearning to have her nipple caressed, sucked, but unable to satiate her desires.

"Sarah?" Jeanne called. "Sarah, answer Mrs. Denton."

Looking up from her thoughts, Sarah waited for Mrs. Denton to repeat her question. 

"Were you thinking impure thoughts when you climaxed?" Mrs. Denton asked again. 

"No, I was thinking about... " Holding her hand to her mouth, Sarah gasped. "I was thinking about my boob."

"Why would that matter?" Jeanne asked Mrs. Denton. "I thought it was the climax that was important."

"The spirits work in strange ways," Mrs. Denton said, returning her gaze to her book. "It will be difficult to correct the transition now." With a thoughtful glance toward Sarah, Mrs. Denton offered a smile. "I'm afraid there's nothing in here that tells how to rectify the situation."

* * * * *

Three months later, Sarah sat nervously backstage. The chants coming from the stage sounded muffled, but distinct. "Jerry. Jerry. Jerry."


Transition



[This started with a story by Casey Edwards called 'Dawn's Friends'. It isn't, even implicitly, a criticism of that story. But it made me think about how the relationships described would work, and how I would handle the basic scenario differently.

This is a first cut. I've already done a second cut, but it isn't any longer an erotic story; it's become more of an exploration around the nature and meaning of incest, and isn't really suitable for this site.]

*

"Liv!" I said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Here was my back doorstep - we mostly use the back door. She unfolded her long legs and stood up, still slightly coltish and awkward.

"Becks said," she said, colouring beautifully, "that you fancied me."

That wasn't exactly what I had said. At breakfast that morning I had said 'Becks, would you mind going round to Liv's this weekend, instead of her coming here?'

Becks had looked at me. 'OK, but why?'

I'd fiddled with my toast. 'I'm... I've suddenly noticed how she's grown. I'm... just not comfortable around her just now.'

She'd looked puzzled. 'But... you like Liv.'

'I do like Liv', I'd said. 'I like her very much. I... just need to get used to her being...'

'Grown up?' Becks had asked. 'Sexy?'

Then, in the kitchen, I'd nodded, sheepishly. Now, looking at Liv, I half shrugged, and nodded again. That's what it came down to, in effect. I fancied her.

"I fancy you too," she said, seriously.

She moved towards me. I put my hands on her shoulders - on the beautifully smooth taut skin of her shoulders, flowing down from that impossibly graceful neck - to hold her off.

"Liv," I said, awkwardly, "we can't. It isn't OK. I'm sorry..." I shook my head, vigorously, trying to clear it. "You need someone nearer your own age."

She looked away, and then back, nervously. Big grey eyes, narrow pointed chin. Straight nose. She licked her wide, mobile lips. She'd always had these things. Suddenly they added up to something different, as if I'd gained access to a whole new calculus.

"I don't want someone nearer my age, Mr Edwards." The grey eyes looked straight into mine, disconcertingly near my level. "The boys my age are shits. Think of Billy Marshall..."

I thought of Billy Marshall. It wasn't a very charitable thought; it had been Billy Marshall, the previous weekend, who had opened my eyes to the gorgeous girl who had been wandering in and out of my house as if it were her own these past eight years. Who had made me so uncomfortable, so troubled.

Saturday night - or rather, Sunday morning, about half past one. There'd been a noise in the house, an unfamiliar noise. I'd rolled out of bed, slipped a pair of jeans on, slipped through into the kitchen. Two shadows were standing by the open patio door, faintly outlined against the wash of distant streetlights.

'What are you doing here?' A fierce whisper. 'Go away. I said I didn't want to see you any more.'

'Girls say that.' A low mumble. 'Look, I brought you this...'

The bulkier shadow had held out a hand. The slighter one had backed away into the room, into the house. Liv. 'You know I don't do that stuff!'

The bulky shadow had moved forward, too. 'I wanted to make up to you'. The male voice had been louder, more assured.

'Keep your voice down!' Liv had whispered, urgently. 'Mr Edwards will hear.'

'And you wouldn't like that'. There had been a tone in the voice I hadn't liked at all, somewhere between thoughtful and gloating. 'You wouldn't like him to see you with a guy in his house. Not with you dressed like that.'

How was Liv dressed? I hadn't been able to see, in the shadows. I'd caught myself trying, been shocked at myself. That had been the start...

She'd told him to go away, again, her whisper sounding more frightened.

'Do what you wouldn't do last night, and I'll keep quiet.' There had been definite cruelty in the voice. My hand had reached across the counter to where the big torch sits, had picked it up, was pointing it in the right direction. I didn't know why I hadn't turned it on.

'No!' Liv had backed further into the room, further into shadow. Again the bulky figure had followed, lifting the vase of flowers from the coffee table.

'Do it', the man had said, 'or I'll drop this.'

'Please no...'

'Kneel down' he'd said, almost caressingly, moving closer, into shadow.

There had been a movement in the gloom.

'Unzip me.'

'No!'

'I'll drop it!'

I switched the torch on, full in his face, and he did. It shattered loudly on the floor, scattering water and tulips.

'Billy Marshall', I'd said, carefully, hearing the ferocity in my own voice. 'Care to accompany me down to the police station while I file a charge of attempted rape?'

It hadn't taken me long to get him out of the house. It hadn't taken me long to get a promise out of him never to come near either of the girls again. He'd suddenly become a very frightened kid. As he'd deserved.

I'd gone back in, shut and locked the patio door. Liv had been still kneeling there, shuddering and sobbing. I pulled her to her feet and hugged her. Of course I hugged her. I'd hugged her many times before when she'd been frightened, when she's cried. She was wearing just the same sloppy t-shirt she'd been wearing when I'd kissed her good night only three hours previously. But suddenly it meant something different. The pressure against my chest was breasts. Small breasts, but... breasts. The head that nestled into my shoulder had lips which could suddenly be kissed in a very different way.

I'd pushed her away, gently but firmly, carefully not kissing them. 

'It's all right now, Liv', I'd said. 'He's gone. Go back to bed, and sleep'.

I'd gone back to my bed, myself. I hadn't slept.

And now I looked at her on the doorstep, dressed in a light sun dress with not a lot, I could tell, under it... perhaps, probably, nothing under it... it was painful to touch her. Viscerally painful.

"I'm sorry, Liv. We can't."

"Justify that!"

My own catch phrase, almost. Something I'd said to the two of them, over and over, whenever they'd said something without thinking. Justify that.

And I couldn't.

"I'm too old," I said. "You're too young. If I was twenty years younger... If you were even five years older... but we're not. We can't. I can't. It would be wrong."

"Why?" She was pleading. "Lots of men have lovers who are younger than them..."

"Thirty years?"

"Twenty eight," she said, precisely. "And anyway, why not? You want me. I want you. Why not?"

"You're eighteen, Liv," I said, desperately. "If you were even twenty-one..."

She looked down. There were tears welling in the big eyes, not quite spilling. I'd never made her cry before. I'd always been the one who'd made it better... She blinked furiously. She tossed her head up and looked at me hard.

"OK," she said, "OK. We'll do a deal. Wait for me. I won't see anyone for three years. Promise me you won't see anyone for three years either."

"Liv, we can't. You're practically my daughter. You are my daughter's best friend. We just can't."

The tears did spill. No big production, just tears trickling down over her high cheekbones into the corners of her wide mouth. I so, so, so wanted to hug her, to hold her, to comfort her as I had so many times before. I pushed her away, as gently as I could.

"I'm sorry, Liv. You have to go."

She went. The evening sun caught her as she turned the corner of the house, outlining her against the light. There was nothing under that thin dress.

------

It's quite a big house to be alone in. I hadn't ever felt alone in it before. It wasn't the first time Becks had stayed at Liv's, of course. They'd been inseparable since primary school. I'd sometimes joked that it was because of Liv that Becks had chosen to live with me, instead of moving out with her mother and the boys. It had been Becks, at twelve, unprompted, who'd argued with the judge that we should be allowed to keep the family home because her mother had left us and anyway her new boyfriend had a bigger house - which was true. I'd been embarrassed. But I'd been proud of her. I still was proud of her; I'll always be proud of her.

Six years. I hadn't slept with anyone in six years. Most of the time, I hadn't missed sex desperately. It was something that wasn't there, and sometimes it did hurt. But it wasn't something I'd ever thought of in the same breath as the girls. They'd been children. I'd watched them grow, I'd watched them learn and develop. I'd been proud of them. Of Becks of course, but also of Liv. She'd been with us so long, she'd felt part of the family. I worked from home - mainly because of needing to be home for Becks. Her mother, also a single parent and more ambitious than me, didn't. So it had become normal that Liv came home with Becks after school, played, did homework, had tea, increasingly often stayed overnight. 

She'd been a little, shy, pale shrimp of a thing when she first came, uncertain, nervous, but bristling with intelligence, with eagerness to learn. She had been unsure of me at first, nervous around men. Her father, who'd killed himself driving when drunk, had, it seemed, been unpredictable and violent. Later, she'd come to me for comfort when she was upset or frightened, and that had felt the biggest compliment anyone ever paid me. From when she was thirteen she'd stayed with us all through the summers, as her mother marked exam scripts and went off around the world to academic conferences.

She'd been a delight. A pretty, quiet, well mannered child, more responsible than Becks, able to rein in some of Becks' wilder flights. Around Becks you almost didn't notice her; Becks so much more vivid, louder, more confident, physically developing much earlier. I had grown used to Becks being nubile; she'd had a bra at twelve, and by thirteen had needed one. Liv had always been pale, very fair, slightly freckled. She'd grown gawky and coltish, in her early teens susceptible to illness as a result of growing too fast, too tall, too thin, awkward and clumsy in her skin.

I'd seen her, I'd thought, as an extra daughter. I'd loved her almost as much as I loved Becks, and, I'd thought, in the same way. Their friendship - their inseparability - surprised a lot of people, but it didn't surprise me. Becks saw in Liv what I saw: both the vulnerable child who needed to be protected, and the person whose wit and imagination could keep you entertained and stimulated indefinitely. For Liv, Becks was at once a protector and a foil: someone who would always, reliably, stand between her and the playground bullies, and someone with the wit to spark off hers.

Even the name 'Liv' was Becks' invention. Liv's mother still called her 'Lavinia'; when we'd moved into the area and Becks had first gone to Liv's primary school, everyone there had called her 'Lavvy'. Becks had, through sheer force of personality, killed that hated nickname; I hadn't heard anyone use it for years.

I sat in my study, looking through old photographs. Photographs of the two of them, of Liv by herself. A lowriesque, stork-like child with a wonderfully mobile, expressive face; often serious, but when she did grin, such a grin. I thought about how precious she was to me, how important to me our relationship - our adult to child relationship - had been. Billy Marshall had killed that, had destroyed it. I would never look at her innocently again, never touch her innocently. I got drunk, and wept, and went to bed, and wanked, and hated myself.

------

"I thought I'd asked you to stay away for the weekend?"

It was quite late on Saturday morning. I was just up, feeling groggy, drinking black coffee in the kitchen; they'd just tumbled in through the back door. Liv, in a shapeless jersey over baggy dungarees, was staying behind Becks and looking apprehensive.

Becks looked at me hard. "What's wrong with you?" she asked.

"Didn't sleep very well," I said. "I thought I'd asked you to stay away?"

"Professor Jennings told us to give you this," said Becks. 

I wondered hazily why Liv's mum was suddenly 'Professor Jennings' and not just 'Liv's mum'. 'This' was a well wrapped parcel, addressed to me. I looked at it. I realised that 'Professor Jennings' probably meant that Becks was angry with me.

"Aren't you going to open it?" said Becks.

"Mum said..." started Liv, nervously.

"Aren't you going to open it?" asked Becks, again. 

I opened it.

Inside was a large - a very large - box of condoms, and a note, in Professor Jennings distinctive fountain-pen scrawl. 

'Be gentle with her'

I looked up at the girls. Becks was looking at me, challengingly. Liv was staring at the condoms, frightened. Frightened of me, frightened of sex, frightened of being rejected? I couldn't tell.

"Well?" demanded Becks, "What does it say?"

I stepped past her, and handed the note to Liv. She looked up at me, startled, looked at the note, and looked up again, slowly, hopefully, blazingly smiling.

"Oh!"

From somewhere behind me, Becks voice, surprised. 

"Oh... You won't be wanting a gooseberry, then."

From somewhere behind me, I heard her go out of the patio door; she obviously didn't want to push past us. We just looked at each other. Neither of us moved. After a bit the smile started to tremble, started to collapse towards uncertainty...

"Come here," I said, roughly.

She came. I held her. It was a very long time before we even kissed.

------

There was a knock on the bedroom door. Liv raised her head off my shoulder and looked at it. The evening sun sparkled through her long eyelashes, caressing a face soft and replete. Her voice was curiously husky.

"Becks?"

"Would you two like some coffee?" Becks' voice was muffled by the door.

"Please," we both said together.

Liv kissed me, and settled her head back into my shoulder, almost purring. I pulled the sheet loosely over her, and moved my hands back to their comfortable station on her buttocks. Her muscles rippled gently, and I twitched back at her, moving a hand to stroke her soft hair gently.

Becks burst in, slammed a tray of mugs and biscuits on the bedside cabinet, bounced down onto the bed, beaming at us.

"Well?" she said, loudly, curiously. "How was it?"

"Becks, have I completely failed to teach you any manners?"

"Dad! You're you, and Liv's Liv, and this is family. This is more important than manners. I'm tying to say 'congratulations' and I'm also trying to say - like, to both of you - 'are you all right?' so..."

She looked at us, at the shape of us under the thin sheet.

"...oh. Are you actually doing it? Now? Should I go?"

Liv chuckled, softly. She twisted her head round to look back at Becks, rippling her internal muscles again.

"Don't go," she said. "We're not really doing it. He's still in me - like, I don't ever want him to be out of me again, like Siamese twins" - she dropped a kiss on my nose - "but we're not really doing it. I'm too sore, now. But good. Really, really good."

Becks sat there, looking at us, beaming. Liv dropped her head back into my shoulder, and I gathered her in, stroking her wonderful soft hair, grinning slightly at my daughter. To my surprise it felt OK, the three of us. It felt OK that Liv was my lover, and Becks was my daughter, and she was sitting on our bed, looking at us, beaming. Liv was fluttering her muscles more now, deliberately beginning sex again, teasing, I knew, probing to see how I'd respond.

"So what have you been doing with your day, Becks?"

"This and that." She looked down at the shape of Liv's arse, now definitely moving under the sheet. "All my sports stuff was upstairs, so I bought myself a new cozzy and went down to the pool to get some lengths in. Then I had some lunch, and mooched a bit, and went and saw Julie. And then I got bored and decided I needed to know how you two were doing. So I came home. Aren't you going to drink your coffee?"

"Sorry," I said. "Liv seems to have got interested in something else."

"OK," said Becks. "I'm being a gooseberry again. I'll go."

The door closed. I flipped Liv over. 

"Liv, love, pas devant les enfants. And I thought you were too sore, anyway."

She giggled. 

"Gentle," she said. "But... do it. Do it."

I did it, until she came, mewingly, again. I knew I wouldn't come; I'd long since emptied every last dribble of semen I had into her. My balls hurt. I liked the feeling; a feeling I hadn't felt in her lifetime - or a while before it. I felt ridiculously happy.

------

I came out of the bathroom into a kitchen with a definite chill. Liv, wrapped in my dressing gown - only she could make it look sexy - was leaning against one counter. Becks, in sweatshirt and jeans, against the other. Both stiff. Neither looking at the other. Neither talking. It wasn't at all what I'd expected.

"OK," I said. "What's up?"

"Nothing's up," said Becks. "I'm going out."

"Becks, sit down. Shall we cook, or shall I order a carry-out?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Becks, sit down!" I said, sitting down at the table myself. "You too, Liv."

They sat down. Liv looked scared. So sad to see her scared when she'd looked so triumphantly proud and happy only five minutes before. I took each of them by the hand. 

"Look," I said. "We're family. You said it yourself, Becks. And we've been family for..."

"Eight years," said Liv, quietly.

I nodded. "This mustn't change that. It can't. I am not going to give either of you up. So what's wrong?"

"She wanted to know what we did," said Liv, simply. "I couldn't tell her. You're her dad."

"Would you have told her if I weren't her dad?"

Liv nodded. "Probably. Yes. Yes, for sure. Of course I would."

"Would you tell Liv?" I asked Becks; and then, struck by a thought, "have you told Liv?"

Suddenly Becks gurgled, and the tension started to break. "No," she said. "Who knew? Who guessed she'd be first to pop her cherry? I just need to know... I need... like blow by blow..."

"Can you tell her, Liv?"

"Is it OK?" Liv asked, looking at me.

I nodded. "I think you'd better. I'll go out and get a carry out."

"No!" said Liv. "No, don't go."

I stayed.

------

"I just wanted to get it over with" Liv said. 

I had got a bottle of wine out of the cupboard and was pouring glasses.

"I was so nervous... I wanted to just get to bed, do it, get it done..."

"And you didn't?" Becks looked surprised.

"Tim kept slowing me down..."

I grinned. I couldn't help it. That was the first time she'd called me Tim in front of anyone else. Always before it had been 'Mr Edwards', or 'Becks' Dad'. Now I was Tim. Well, it was only a few hours since she'd first called me that in private. I found I liked it. I didn't even know who she'd heard call me Tim before, or how long ago it had been. I grinned.

"... he kept saying we had plenty of time, and I thought he meant he wasn't going to do it at all, he was trying to, to, to... he didn't want me..."

She looked up at me, a hint of that panic, that insecurity, back in her eyes. I smiled at her, putting all the warmth I had behind it. I handed her a glass of wine; another first.

"You did kiss, I hope," said Becks, ever keen to stick to the point.

Liv nodded vigorously.

"Is he good?"

Liv nodded still more vigorously.

"Is she?" Becks looked at me.

"When she's not too nervous." I went and stood behind Liv, stroked her hair. "When she's not too rushed. Very, very good. Inexperienced, but... very good. And... I'll teach her. I'll enjoy teaching her."

Becks stared at Liv intensely. "Oh, you are so lucky... so what happened? What happened?"

"I thought I was getting it all wrong. I thought I was going wrong, I didn't know what to do. I... I expected him to just, you know, strip me and shag me and send me to make coffee. I thought that's what I wanted. I thought that's what happened. I mean, in the books that aren't stupid romances or porn, that is what happens. But he didn't strip me so I started... He kept stopping me taking my clothes off and I thought that meant he didn't want me..."




Transition 1



"Well, that was fun," Michelle remarked as she threw her head back, quite exhausted.

"How much longer will you be in town?" asked Katie, leaning against a pile of pillows. "Maybe we could meet up again for lunch- just you and I."

As Michelle gathered her belongings, she replied, "I'll be here for another day, but I have an early flight. I can't promise that I'll call, but I'd love to have your number, just in case."

Katie grabbed a pen from the desk in the corner and scribbled down the number, passing it to Michelle with a lingering touch. "Don't hesitate to call. I'd love to stay in touch. Plus, we would be happy to send you the video- assuming, of course, that you can be discreet. Would you even want it, or would it be too damning to have around in case your husband were to find it?"

Michelle laughed as she pulled her capris back on. "Too damning? He'd LOVE to see it. He even asked if I could convince you to let me film it." She stuffed her bra into her bag and pulled her tanktop overhead.

"Yeah, but you never really told him about Mark being there. Will he be okay with that?" asked Katie, cocking her head to the side.

"He knew. I texted him details about you guys- names, hotel room number, physical description, where you said that you were from and what you did." Michelle continued: "My husband is a private security consultant. He had tracked my phone and knew where I was all evening. I even snuck photos of both of you from the restaurant and sent them to him. It is better to be safe than sorry."

Katie seemed slightly surprised, but not upset. "Wow, I never even saw you do it. I can see why you did, and I certainly don't mind- as long as it was not a ploy to blackmail us!"

Standing off to the side of the bed and leaning over to grant Katie a wonderful view of her unharnessed breasts, Michelle leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on Katie's lips. Of course not. This was all for fun. And I'll definitely be in touch about that video. I should be just as nervous about you using the video to blackmail me...but I'm more turned on than anything."

Michelle went on. "As for what happened tonight and him being mad, that is a non-issue. He and I have several pre-approved situations that the we can act out on, if the situation presents itself. Actually, he has given me many situations that I can act on- he really does not have any for him that don't involve me. He wants for me to be sexually fulfilled, figuring that if I am happy with my sex life, our sex life together will be better. All that I have to do is to be responsible about it and don't emotionally stray. So far, it has worked out great- though this is the first thing that I have done that would be this far out there in terms of experimenting. I just have to tell him- in great detail- about any exploits. Then we end up fucking like crazy afterwards"

"Well, I hope to hear from you. And soon! Do you need a cab?"

"You will- don't worry. And my hotel is right across the street. I'll walk back. The air will be good for me. I had a great night- I hope that you guys did as well." With that, Michelle let herself out, quietly closing the door behind her.

She proceeded to the elevator, still slightly tipsy and feeling very excited about what had just transpired. One of her (and her husband's) wildest fantasies had just come true without any planning or effort- just the right place at the right time. Her body was still in a state of extreme arousal- even the fabric of her panties making contact with her pussy was giving rise to thoughts of lust and making her wish that her husband were there to share the excitement.

As she got on the elevator, she thought of how much they would enjoy watching the video together, acting out certain elements of the experience and embellishing in other areas with additional acts of passion. As the elevator descended, she was aware that her breasts were fairly exposed, nipples erect from nerves, arousal, and the contact of the tight tank. She hoped that there would be no encounters on the elevator, and her hopes were realized when she made it to the lobby without any co-passengers.

As the doors opened, she turned quickly to the right, looking for the side door that she had spotted on the way in. It led to the parking lot, and from there it was just a hundred yards or so to her own hotel, where she knew that her key card would allow her to enter through the door by the second-floor pool and fitness center and catch the elevator up to her floor. If she had to, she could even walk up the stairs, but as late as it was, she thought that her chances of running into anyone in the pool and fitness area was slim. With any luck, she'd be in her room without anyone seeing her.

As she stepped out into the air, she felt another wave of excitement at having pulled of such an amazing encounter. She stopped and sent a quick text to her husband, telling him that she was safe and that she would call him after she had showered. He replied immediately and told her to hurry.

She made her way across the parking lot and found the entry door to the pool. Her key card worked the door and the light went green to grant her entry. She glanced around and decided to risk the short run to the elevators. If there was anyone in the car when the doors opened, she could always say that she forgot something and walk away.

As she pressed the "up" button, she heard voices from around the corner. The fitness room doors opened and the voices intensified. Two, maybe three male voices were getting closer. Silently, she willed the elevator to descend faster, but it was as if it was frozen in time.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw three teenage boys approaching. Two of them- one blond and the other with brown hair- looked young, maybe 16 or 17. The third had dark brown hair and appeared slightly older. All dressed in what looked like team-issued workout gear and appeared to have come from the gym or pool. All were in good shape, but the one who looked the oldest was sporting a walking boot on his ankle.

"I can't believe you turned your ankle in warm-ups today," said the blond. "Bad luck to do it right before the semis. We could have used your pitching today."

"Yeah, I know," remarked the older boy. "But Coach told me to rest it up. I could have played. But there is no sense in ruining my chances of pitching in regionals in two weeks just to make the finals in this tournament. Besides- we still won."

"True- and you don't want to blow your scholarship in your senior year," stated the other of the two young boys. "I am done waiting for the elevator- we are only 2 floors up. I'm taking the stairs. What about you, Chris?"

"Yeah, let's go. We'll leave crazylegs here to ride the elevator."

"Thanks, guys- real nice. I am up on the 9th floor- no way I am hobbling up 6 stories."

Michelle glanced to her left, where the older boy had stopped to wait for the elevator. She caught his eyes checking her out, but he looked away when he saw that he was caught. Whether or not he had noticed her lack of a bra was not clear, but it was about to become irrelevant. Unfortunately, she was heading up to the 8th floor, and with the other two boys taking the stairs there was no advantage to bailing out now. Besides- she'd never see him again. If he got a little glimpse of her barely-covered C-cups, so what? He was a senior, so he was probably at least 18, so she did not have to worry as much about looking like a dirty old woman by giving him an unintentional peep show. Besides, he looked old enough to have made out with a few cheerleaders and he was not too bad on the eyes. Him in an elevator was better than taking the stairs.



Transition



"You stopped her taking her clothes off?" 

My daughter looked almost shocked.

"I didn't stop her," I said. "I just said slow down. She's right. It wasn't working. She was much too nervous... much too uptight. If we'd gone to bed like that... it wouldn't have worked."

"So what did happen?"

"We went for a walk," said Liv. "Like, to be ordinary... Tim said, to get back to where I was comfortable being around him. I didn't really believe him, but... He was talking, asking me questions about me, listening to me. I mean, he always did, more than anyone else, but... I thought maybe he meant it. I thought maybe he would... we would..."

She leant back against me, reached up and caught the hand that was stroking her hair, pulled it down and kissed it.

"He knew I was a virgin by that time. I mean, I 'spect he knew all along..."

I hadn't. I hadn't known it for sure about either of them. I'd been anxious about both of them for the past couple of years, anxious about pregnancy, and sexual diseases, and just the casual unkindness of very young men.

"... but I'd told him. And he... you know it wasn't special, it wasn't significant... he asked me if I had some place we could go that I specially liked, and I told him about the old battery, you know?"

Becks nodded.

"And then we got a bus into town, he didn't say why, and we went into this clothes shop. I was getting uptight again, I didn't know what was happening."

"Ooh," said Becks. "Kinky. I didn't know dad was kinky..."

"No," said Liv "We got... Oh! I suppose actually yes..."

"Dad? Never! What did you get?"

"A raincoat," said Liv. "Look, I'll show you."

Liv darted back into my bedroom and came back in the coat I'd bought her, posing and turning to show it off. A long, loose, lightweight trenchcoaty sort of thing in a drab cream colour. It looked well on her.

"OK," said Becks, puzzled. "I like it. Suits you. Nice with boots. But kinky?"

"We came out of the shop with it in a bag, and there was a loo. Your dad - Tim - Tim told me to go into the loo and take off everything I was wearing except my trainers, and put the coat on..."

"Everything?"

Liv nodded. "That's what I said... yes, and put my clothes in the bag. He said I didn't have to... but... but that's when I knew it was going to work. And it was exciting. So I did."

Becks looked at me as if she didn't know me. She looked back at Liv. "What happened next?"

"We went into the post office, and got a box, and put the carrier in it, and posted it to me here. I mean, Tim said I didn't have to, he just suggested it because it would be a nuisance carrying the bag..."

"But it meant you couldn't back out."

Liv nodded. "Yes. That was... scary cool. Scary, scary cool, for sure. So I did it. And then we walked up to the park together, just talking. and it was weird, you know... the coat on my nipples... I mean, clothes rub on you and it's a bit sexy sometimes and anyway the lining is all silky and it doesn't rub much, but... just because it was a coat, just the badness, you wouldn't believe how sexy... And, you know, sunny Saturday lunchtime, there were people in the park, not a lot but... people... and then Tim said unbutton the coat."

"You didn't!"

"I did," said Liv, doing it. "I mean," she said, moving around with the coat unbuttoned and unbelted, "you can't actually see anything because of the way it hangs, unless I..."

She flashed us, deliberately. I grabbed her, kissed her properly, said "Liv! Behave," and sat her down. She chuckled again, a contented sound.

"So?" said Becks. "So? Did anyone see?"

Liv shrugged. "Probably not. Tim was actually... very protective... like when we learned to swim in the deep end, you know. Making me take risks but not letting me get hurt... But they might have. Anyway, we got up to the battery, and there were people there, but, not looking at us. Tim lead me by the hand over to the parapet..."

Liv took a gulp of wine.

"We were looking out at the view and Tim was behind me, and he'd pulled my coat open... he hadn't even touched my..." 

she flushed, red as the wine, right down to her nipples

"My tits, or my... pussy... or anywhere, really... I was so wet. I could smell myself. And then he pressed against me from behind and I could feel him... his erection... and he didn't do anything, just holding me there with his body. He was talking about how beautiful I was, and how much he wanted me, and I was thinking what are you waiting for, why don't you take me... and then he did."

"No!" Becks shrieked. "On the battery? With people there?"

"There were people there at first, I think, I wasn't paying attention..."

"There were," I agreed. "Three old ladies, with their dogs. I didn't turn you round until they'd started down, but they were still there."

"Anyway," Liv said, "he turned me round, and put his arms inside the coat and lifted me onto the parapet... so the coat was still mostly round me... and we were kissing... like, for real... and I felt his..."

Liv petered out.

Becks looked up at me. "His cock?"

Liv nodded. "Against my pussy... my cunt. Against my cunt. He put my hand on his cock and told me to guide him in, and then..."

She squeezed my hand. I stroked her hair again, reassuringly.

"He was just a little way in... like, I could feel it, I knew it was the right place, but no pressure. There were still voices... Tim pushed me back flat on the top of the parapet... and then he... told me to put my legs round his waist and pull him in."

Liv took another gulp of wine.

"He'd opened my coat right up so I was... completely naked except for my arms and my trainers... like completely exposed... lying on my back with my legs around his waist and he was like completely dressed except for his cock and that was like so sexy... and it was so very sexy that anyone could have come and seen... and you know those benches down under the battery?"

Becks nodded, entranced.

"Well, they couldn't see me and I couldn't see them but there were two old men there, like, maybe three metres away from me talking about growing vegetables for this garden competition, and there was this big cognitive dissonance thing with me there naked with a... a cock in my cunt for the first time ever and they're talking about courgettes..."

Both girls collapsed in silent giggles. I had a sudden vision of them up in Becks' room experimenting with a courgette; I don't know whether it ever happened, but courgettes certainly meant something. I hadn't noticed the old men at all.

"Becks, have you ever felt your hymen?"

Becks nodded.

"Have you ever pushed something against it to see if you could break it, hoping you wouldn't?"

Becks shook her head, looking surprised. "You have?"

Liv nodded. "It's... quite tough. I mean, I knew it was quite tough. I mean I didn't want to break it... I mean, before, but I was sort of surprised that it hadn't..."

She sipped some more wine. Not a gulp this time; less nervous...

"I expected... I expected Tim to do it. And... even when I knew it was going to happen I thought he'd just do it and... he'd come and that would be that..."

"Hang on," said Becks, slightly accusatory. "What about the condom? You did wear one?"

"I don't know!" said Liv, surprised, interested, not obviously concerned; twisting her head to look up at me. "Did we?"

"I put it on before I turned you round."

She grinned. "Oh... good... I suppose. I was too sexed up to think about it, I was just so ready. You've no idea, you think you've been turned on, but Becks... that was... And the thing was, he didn't do it. He took me there, and set the thing up, but then he let me do it. Pull him in. Feel my hymen stretching, feeling it hurting, wondering if it would break, wondering if he would fit in me...

"You know that moment when you're making a pot, when you've got the lump of clay on the wheel, and you've got it just perfectly centred, and you push your thumb down the middle and it all flares out and suddenly you've got a pot where there was just a lump of mud before? That's what it felt like. That's what I felt like, like as he forced into me he was making a space inside me that had never been there before, and changing me permanently into something beautiful... God it's good. For sure. You don't know how good..."

"Did it hurt?"

"I don't know" said Liv, thoughtfully. "I mean, of course it did, but... sexy pain. Intense, but... sexy."

There was a long pause.

"Blow by blow" said Becks, almost whispering, gazing at Liv so hungrily. "What happened next?"

"Like, when he was right in?"

Becks nodded.

"He pulled me up into a cuddle, like, with him right up me, and said did I want to finish this there or would I rather we came back to the house and finished it in bed."

"You said there?"

Liv nodded. "Of course."

"And then?"

"He laid me back down... he said I probably wouldn't come first time, but I might if I... did my clit at the same time... and I did, and he... fucked me. He fucked me. Lying there naked on the parapet playing with my clit and listening to old men talking about vegetables and thinking that my skin will burn in this sun and getting fucked, oh, God, getting fucked... I sort of wasn't ready to come. It... took me by surprise. I think I was noisy..."

I squeezed her hand. "You were brilliant."

"Noisy?"

"Fairly noisy... noisy is good, at least as far as I'm concerned..."

"The old men heard me. I... embarrassed them. And... that was sexy! It felt like... everything was sexy." 

She twisted her head again. 

"You didn't come?"

"Not then, no."

"Why not?"

"I was doing the deep end thing," I said. "Taking care of you. Making sure if anyone came you'd be covered. Making sure I wasn't hurting you too much."

"Oh. Thank you..."

"It's all right, you've more than made up for it since."

"You did it again?" Becks looked shocked. "He's old!"

I grinned down at Liv, warmly, reaching into her coat to squeeze a breast. She slapped my hand, gently. 

"Pas devant les enfants!"

"How many times?" asked Becks, almost bouncing in her chair. "Interested daughters need to know!"

"I don't know," said Liv.

"It isn't like that," I said.

"What do you mean? I thought" said my daughter, my as I had thought very worldly and sophisticated daughter, "you basically stuck it in and pumped it till it went off and then that was it 'till the next time?"

"Well," I said, blushing myself, "yes, sort of. But... Like you said, I'm old, and the benefit of that is it doesn't go off very easily, so you need to pump it for a long time. And if you ease off now and then you can keep pumping for even longer. And even if it does go off, there's plenty of things you can do while it's getting ready for another go, and when the girl's as sexy as Liv that doesn't take too long, even when the man's as old as me."

"So..." said Becks, looking from one to the other of us. "How long... what things have you done..."

Liv shook her head. "I don't really know. We got home, we went to bed, we..."

"Fucked," I said.

"... fucked, you came home, you made us coffee, we stopped."

"Wow..." said Becks. "Oh, I'm so glad for you, both of you. So pleased. Just, congratulations. Just ace."

She paused for a moment, and then went on. 

"Let's go and get that carry out. I'm hungry."



Transition



I wanted cock. I needed cock.

Over the past few weeks, I had been in the presence of no fewer than two dozen penises and was unable to touch them, to wrap my lips around them, to swallow them. While I was being facialized, I had been within a couple of inches of those massive rods, and had longed to reach up and wrap my lips around their engorged heads and envelope them with my mouth. I hadn't been on the receiving end of a real, live penis in almost two years. I was suffering from major cock withdrawal.

I set about rehashing through many of the e-mails I'd gotten in response to my original Craigslist posting. Many of the original respondents wanted to know if I'd suck them off or give them a handjob to help facilitate matters. My agreement with Nikki was that there was to be no touching involved, so of course I had to refuse. At the time it really didn't matter to me. But, being that close to all of those dicks brought back fond memories of going down on my last boyfriend, a boyfriend who came in at a good seven and a half inches in length. That was before I'd learned to deepthroat, too. Now, I longed to be penetrated. Forcefully. Being fucked by a strap-on, while a satisfying experience, is nothing like taking it from the real deal.

I was to be moving to San Francisco after my graduation this spring, and I was going to need a job to help pay for school and other living expenses. The southern Florida environment was ripe for making a living as a dancer, but things were slow for dancers in the Bay Area. In my trip out there a couple of months ago, we'd scoped out some clubs and found none that really appealed to me. I'd been working at a high end place for a good three years now and I didn't want to move down to what amounted to, basically, a dump. We didn't see any place in the city that just bowled us over. This was disheartening because it meant I'd have to find something else to do – something that would allow me to continue living in the lifestyle I was accustomed to.

In both work and at school I had met women who worked as escorts, basically high priced prostitutes. In fact, during one of my Human Sexuality courses, one of the women I'd befriended, herself an escort, suggested that I consider working. She seemed to think I'd make a good one with my looks, intelligence, and perspective on sexuality. While I didn't disagree with her, I just couldn't see myself fucking people for money. One of the things I really like about the club I worked in was that it was a "clean" club – the dancers didn't have to perform sexual services for customers to keep them coming back or to make decent money. It wasn't for lack of the customers trying to get us to do it, though. But the fact is that we didn't have to – I made far more than enough to pay for college, pay cash for my car, and save and invest a good bit for the future just giving private dances. In fact, I regularly paid more in taxes than most people my age made in a year.

The situation in San Francisco forced me to reconsider things, though. In my honors project for my undergraduate degree, I'd interviewed over 100 women involved in prostitution. Almost half of them were streetwalkers – abused, drug addicted, sad individuals. Half the remainder were brothel workers, and the other half were high end escorts in the Miami area. People outside the sex industry like to paint all prostitutes as sad, abused, drug addicted women who are exploited by "the patriarchy." What I discovered, though, was quite the opposite. Those working as escorts were all well spoken, intelligent, level-headed women. Many had degrees or were working on them, in fact. Though I had some reservations about a couple I spoke with, these women were hardly the archetypical "whore" that they were often portrayed to be. They were strong, well-spoken, confident women. This piqued my interest.

I had been discussing my project with Nikki as it developed over the course of two semesters, so it was no shock to her when I broached the subject of becoming an escort when I moved to California. Like me, Nikki was very fluid and open about sexuality in general, even as it related to our personal relationship. We'd had an open relationship with respect to other women since we'd become an official couple in May of 2005. Each of us was free to play with other women, with or without the knowledge of the other. Sometimes, we even enjoyed another woman together. The one caveat in our open relationship, and that which had driven the original condition behind the "no contact" rule when I started experimenting with facials, was that we agreed not to play with men. This derived largely from the desire to not get pregnant and catch diseases, but also substantially lessened the possibility of one of use becoming emotionally attached to someone who might drive a wedge between the two of us.

Originally, Nikki was supposed to move with me to Cali, but she'd gotten a job with a travel agency in Miami that she really loved – one that she could apply her degree to. We'd planned to move back to the Miami area once we got our graduate degrees anyway, and these two things kind of combined to give rise to the possibility of her remaining in Florida while I was on the west coast. So all of this combined into a situation where it seemed feasible for me to work as an escort. And this had taken place before the Spitzer scandal broke into the headlines.

With that as a backdrop, I e-mailed a guy calling himself "Aragon," to see if he was still interested in cumming on my face, and explained that I might be willing to accommodate the special request he'd had. Within a minute of my sending it, he replied in the affirmative. "Are you serious? I'd love to if you're available." He was one of the ones who'd offered to pay for it to begin with, so I figured he'd probably still be up for it. He'd also taken the liberty of sending a photo of his rather gorgeous cock with his first e-mail, so I knew what I'd be dealing with. He looked clean, in shape and his original e-mail didn't scream at me "I'm an asshole."

We worked out the finer details, and I agreed to meet him in the outer parking lot of a grocery store not too far from the house. In exchange for $150, I'd blow him and allow him to spray my face with his seed. "What made you change your mind?" A legitimate question, of course.

"I've been cockless for almost two years now. I'm having withdrawal," I replied, laughing as I typed it out.

A fleeting thought passed through the back of my mind – at some point, I might be arranging to fuck people like this, basically. Deep down I knew I would, though I hadn't allowed myself to fully admit it yet. Did my fascination with the idea of the facial lead to this, or was it just a natural evolution of my own sexuality? Were those even two separate questions? It didn't matter. Within that mix was a sense of excitement, though. Based on what I'd learned in my discussions with the escorts for my project, it seemed like a unique and interesting way to earn some money if you knew what you were doing. It was, for all intents and purposes, the ultimate expression of the basic supply and demand theory of economics.

At the appointed time, I drove to the parking lot and parked toward the front near the store and waited for Andy to show up. He was running a few minutes late, but I saw his van pull into the parking lot just as I was wondering if he was going to flake on me. He parked in the section I asked him to, and I got out and started walking toward the truck. I was wearing a bikini top and a pair of short shorts. One thing about south Florida is that it is almost always swimsuit weather, and a girl walking around in a bikini, even at a grocery store didn't faze anyone.

A big smile flashed across his face as he saw me approaching. I reached the van's passenger side, opened the door and climbed in. We exchanged pleasantries and I asked him if he had the money. He handed me a wad of money and I counted it as being $160.00. "I don't have change."

"Don't worry about it. Somehow I get the feeling this is going to be worth every dollar of it."

"Ha. So, how do you want to do this?"

"Why don't we just crawl in the back, you pull my pants down and take care of business?"

"Okay. You still want to cum on my face, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay. Just let me know when you're about ready to explode and I'll let you jerk it off onto me, will that work?"

"Sure."

"Alright, let's do it."

He climbed from the driver's seat into the back of the van, and I followed him. I reached for his belt and undid it, and then unzipped his zipper slowly, licking my lips while looking into his eyes. I knew if I could get him worked up a bit mentally before I got to his cock, he'd be that much easier to get off. I began pulling his pants down and discovered he had no underwear on – easier access, he said. His cock was already partially at attention.

I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and began a slow handjob. "Have you ever done anything like this before, or is this a first for you?" I felt his cock begin to harden in my hand.

He seated himself on a bench that he had built into one side of it and spread his legs. "This is definitely a first, even though I've played around on CL quite a bit. I've never seen a hooker as hot as you are, so I've never really been that interested in doing anything with anyone from there before. Your pictures and the stories you've told about the facials tell me you know what you're doing, so I thought I'd take a chance with you."

"Are you married?" "Yeah, why?"

"Just curious. I'm guessing your wife doesn't go for the facial thing, huh?"

"Haha! No, not hardly."

I untied my bikini top so he could see my tits, and then moved down to take his now hard cock into my mouth. The slightly salty, "skin" taste was just like I remember it being, and it felt so good to have a responsive piece of manhood in my mouth again. Giving head to a dildo may be visually appealing to the person wearing it, but for the giver, there's nothing remotely comparable between that and sucking a real dick. A real one responds to you – your licks, your sucking, your nibbles and bites. You can feel it swell as he tightens and relaxes his PC muscles in response to your movements. It is alive, and you don't get that kind of...satisfaction from going down on a fake cock.

I spent a couple of minutes getting his cock all wet with my mouth. "Do you want it slow and sexual or do you want porn star head?"

"Porn star head?"

"Yeah, you know, a spitting, hard core, deepthroating, face fucking blowjob?"

"Well, shit, if you want to do it that way, I'd be a dumbass to not let you do it."

I pulled his cock out of my mouth and spit a big wad of saliva on it, and then went back down on him. He was about seven or eight inches long and not terribly thick, so I figured I'd have little problem getting it into my throat. I had trained myself to relax my gag reflex and was eager to try it out on him. As I began going further and further down on him, the back of my throat began to relax a bit more, and within a few minutes, I could get my face all the way down to the base of his cock. The more I worked it, the easier it became, and eventually I was able to fuck his cock with my mouth by taking it all the way into my throat. Once I began doing that, he began trying to meet my thrusts. He raised his hips off the bench and began face-fucking me.

I pulled him out of my throat and went back to working his cock with my hands, occasionally licking and teasing the head of it while staring him in the eyes. I could tell he was really enjoying this, and his hip movements suggested he wasn't too far from blowing. I spit on it again and started doing a figure 8 with my head to let my tongue massage the underside of his cock as I slowly went up and down on him again. I'd pause occasionally to concentrate on the underside of his cock head, sliding my tongue slowly along the underside of it in a "come-hither" motion, followed by a slow faux-vagina kind of deal where I allow him to penetrate my mouth while I keep my lips pursed together a bit and my tongue stiffened on the underside of his shaft. Supposedly, this feels like the initial entry into a pussy for a guy. Finally, I started using my hand and my face to fuck his cock intensely.

"I'm gonna cum."

I backed off his cock, and he stood up as much as he could in the back of the van as he took his cock into his own hand and began jerking himself off. In a matter of seconds his orgasm built to the point where it could no longer be contained. I told him to grab my head so he could aim it where he wanted it, and he was just able to get a handful of hair on the right side of my head before the first shot exploded out of the head of his cock. The shot went right up the bridge of my nose and forehead, and had that now too familiar warm then cool feeling to it. His second shot got me square between the eyes, and the splatter went across my eyelids - fortunately, I'd had my eyes closed. He got off a third strong blast that landed on my upper right cheek. His body spasmed violently as his cock thrust forward with each orgasmic contraction.

As the cum continued to ooze out of his cock, I took it in my mouth again and began sucking him dry. He softly moaned for a few seconds as I continued to lick his rod. "How was that? Worth the money?"

"Oh, fuck, yeah. You ought to be a pro," he said, laughingly.

I, too, laughed inside as I pondered the thought. I reached over and grabbed my bikini top and tied it back up. The cum was draining down the end of my nose and hanging there like a translucent line of silly string. I reached up and twisted it around my finger and flicked it off onto the wall of his van without him noticing it.

I got up, moved to the back of the van and opened the door. "See you later."

"What? That's it?"

"What? Did you want to cuddle or something? Dude!" I shut the door, walked back to my truck, got in and wiped the cum off my face with a towel I'd brought just for that purpose. As I sat there pondering what had transpired, I realized that I really didn't feel bad about it at all. I sure didn't feel badly for blowing a random guy for the money, not $150 worth of it, anyway. That equated to about $10 a minute. And it was so nice to have a responsive cock in my mouth again after almost two years.

I drove home and began planning for my entry into professional whoredom.



Transition



There is no sex in this story.

Transition-The process in which something changes in stage, form or activity to another.

I got the idea for this story from one I read on the internet, by a guy named, Mike Holt, in which, the wife went all the way to Thailand to take violent revenge on her husband for leaving her. I couldn't sleep well after I read it. The story had no resolution, so I wrote this. My story takes place in the USA. It continues from where Mike stopped.

It was a sunny Florida day when I heard her knock on my door. I briefly saw her, then my ex wife's thug boyfriend pushed in and broke my nose, three ribs, ruptured my spleen, and gave me a concussion among other injuries. I had no time to respond. He wanted me to feel every blow. There was a pause between strikes. He was enjoying my suffering. There wasn't much of my body that he didn't damage. If I wasn't in good shape, I wouldn't have survived. The last thing I remember was the bitch kicking me as she spit on my bleeding body. She could see that I was barely conscious.

I heard her growl, "You son of a bitch. Did you think you could just walk out on me? Who do you think you are? I told you that I'd make you pay. If you go to the cops, Vic will kill you. Maybe, we'll come back tomorrow to finish the job anyway. Think about that. Come on, Vic. We don't want him to die, yet. Kate hissed." Then, I passed out. I had spent the last twenty years of my life married to a monster. 

My name is Chad Donovan. When I opened my eyes I was disoriented. I remember a constant annoying beeping sound and thinking "Hospital? How?" I couldn't remember. Anger... Pain, flashes of my ex wife's sneering face confused me. I had tubes in my throat, nose and arm. I couldn't move. I wanted to talk. I felt so tired.. so tired... Everything went black.

Two days later, I heard my son, Steve, shouting, "He's awake...Call the doctor! Dad... Can you hear me? You're going to make it. I told them that you were too tough to die. I told them. What happened to you?" 

Steve is a second year student at state college majoring in engineering. He's a good kid. I'm proud of him. He loves me and can't understand why I couldn't live with his mother. He never saw the vengeful bitch that she is. I never tried to explain it. Maybe, I didn't have to. She wasn't much of a wife, but she was a good mother. The real truth would be hard for him to take. Steve is the one thing in the world she truly cares about.

I tried to answer him, but my throat was sore and parched. I guess I just grunted. He gave me a sip of water and my throat felt a little better. I whispered, "Steve...", and motioned for him to come closer. As he put his ear close I whispered, "Your mother did this to me. Your mother..." My voice failed me.

"You and mom have been divorced for more than a year, dad. You've got to be wrong. Mom can be mean some times, but I can't believe she could have anything to do with this. She doesn't hate you that much for leaving her. She says that she's gone on with her life. Mom told me that she has a new man in her life. I meet him once. I didn't like the look of him much. Get some rest, dad .We'll talk later. I'll be back to see you again tomorrow. Relax... You've been through a lot. The police said they'll be back when you feel better to take a statement." He thought I was delirious. In fact, I remembered every thing. I knew all about, Vic.

I died not long after I reached the hospital. If Steve had not stopped by my apartment when he did, I wouldn't have survived. I'm lucky they left my door open. I heard one of the nurses ask, " What happened? Did he get hit by a truck?"

"No." The surgeon responded. I understand that he was beaten into this condition. He got here just in time for us to try to stop the bleeding." A beeping machine went flat line and started a steady tone.

I watched the doctors frantically struggling to bring me back after my heart had stopped. I hovered above the table looking down at my lifeless body. 

"Hold that clamp, nurse. That's it! We've got it. The bleeding stopped. Clear!" I heard the doctor say excitedly. "Again, Clear! That's it. He's back." They worked on me until my heart started beating again. When I opened my eyes, I was in my bed , feeling like shit.

A week after my operation , I was ready to tell Steve the whole story. 

"Listen to what I'm about to tell you, Steve. I know you're going to have some questions, but let me finish first." I said as Steve sat by my bed.

"Ok dad. I'm ready to listen. You look different. Your face...Your eyes don't look the same. I don't know... I don't know. I can't quite explain it. I feel like you're looking right through me." His instincts were correct. My recent experiences had indeed changed me. Dying does that to a man.

" You're old enough to understand. The last ten years of my marriage has been real tough for me. Your mother stopped being affectionate for some reason that she would not share with me. Our intimacy disappeared. She always took care of you and the house but to her, I was nothing more than a convenient source of income and status. Nothing I did made any difference. She refused marriage counseling. My attempts at affection and romance were rebuffed or accepted without reciprocity. I've lived with no words of endearment, no hugs, no cuddling, no kisses. She would consent to sex occasionally to placate me, but I haven't been allowed to make love to her in years. She didn't mind sex as long as she didn't have to participate. Sometimes, she allowed me to masturbate inside of her if I kissed her ass all day. I know this is all very difficult for you to understand. I stayed with her because I needed to be there to protect you. She cooked your food and washed your clothes but when you needed a hug I was there. She never thought that kind of thing was important. I couldn't trust her emotional stability. Now that I think about it, I should never have trusted her at all. If I had known that she was cheating on me, I would have kicked her ass to the curb. I didn't want to be an absentee father. I didn't want to see what was really happening. You needed me there. When you went off to college, I finally told her it was over."

"Kate... I wish I was wrong but you don't love me. If you ever did, you haven't for a long time. I now know why you didn't need sex from me. I can't deny the evidence. I realize that my love for you has been dying for a long time. There has to be a few women out there who could appreciate a man like me. The final straw was when I saw you. I think that you've cheated on me repeatedly. I've put up with your bullshit long enough. I refused to see you for who you really are. My denial is finished. It's time to deal with you. We're through. We can sell the house and slit the equity and our investments down the middle. I'm not taking care of you anymore. That will leave you in good shape for quite some time." 

"What are you talking about, Chad? I didn't do anything wrong." She cooed trying to get me to calm down. "I know I've been neglecting you. I'll do better. Think about Steve? What will a divorce do to him? Come over here and let me make it up to you. I was only with Vic once. I was discreet. It didn't mean anything, honey." She was trying to look sluttish and innocent at the same time. She failed on both efforts.

"It won't work this time, Kate. Steve's a man now. You can't use him anymore and I don't care about your issues anymore. I saw you. I saw you having sex on the dance floor with that gorilla. I saw you enter his apartment and I saw you leave looking freshly fucked three hours later. I realize now that you've been fucking around on me for years. Maybe from the very beginning. It doesn't matter at this point, I'm done. You're a fraud and a self centered, manipulating bitch. You've been pretending to be my wife for a long time."

"That's not true... I love..."

"Shut up. Yes it is and you know it."

" All you care about is your public image. You took pride in your ability to take so much and give so little. The only control you ever had over me was what I gave to you, stupid. It took great strength to honor my vows while being treated like crap. I tried to do the right thing. Did you ever stop to think about the consequences for your neglect and abuse?" 

She couldn't respond. She knew the game was over. I could see her mind working. She decided to try a different angle.

"I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I haven't been a good wife and for betraying your trust. Please forgive me. Give me another chance. I love you. Please don't end our marriage. It was just sex with Vic. It was only one time. You have to believe me. I love only you. I can't live without you. I need you. You're my rock." She whimpered while the tears flowed. There was a time when I would have been moved. She was almost believable.

"Here's a copy of the private investigators report. I didn't have to look at it." I said tossing her a manila envelope. "If your lips are moving, you're lying. You've been fucking this guy for months and I suspect several others before him. You're just trying to protect your lifestyle. I've had him checked out. He's some kind of muscle for some very bad people. I think you deserve each other. He's a vicious animal. You're a lying slut and this conversation is over. Screw who ever you want. I'm already packed. My lawyer's card is on the dresser. I have no more time to waste on you. I'll be fair. Don't fight the divorce. I wouldn't want to have to send a copy of what's in that envelope to all of your family and high society friends."

Her face hardened. "You bastard... You took your time to grow a set of balls, didn't you? You can't threaten me. If you walk out on me, I'll make you pay. You know I will find a way. Now forget this madness and calm down and fuck me." I couldn't believe my ears. She had no idea of who I really am. 

"You still don't get it. Fuck you bitch. It's over. I never want to touch you again and I hope I never lay eyes on you again. You are out of your mind and out of my life." I said as I left her forever."

"When I opened my door over a year later, Vic rushed in and attacked me with a baton. He worked me over pretty good. He took his time to maximize the pain. Your mother watched the whole time. She wanted to torture me, he wanted to slowly kill me."

"Have you talked to the police? Did you tell them what happened?" Steve asked.

"No and you won't either." I said in flat emotionless tone of voice.

"Why not dad? He almost killed you. They shouldn't be allowed to get away with this. She's my mother, but I'm ashamed of her. How did she think she was going to get away with hurting you like this?"

"One day you can ask her. Right now, I'd prefer it if you say nothing about me. I want her to think about what I'll do next. She's no doubt looking for Vic to protect her. You should know that they did kill me. I died on the operating table. The doctors brought me back. I'll deal with both of them in my own way, in my own time."

"Damn! I didn't know that. Oh my God! I don't know what I would do without you. I don't know what to say. You're not going to hurt her, are you dad?" He couldn't stop caring about his mother. I understood...

"No physical harm will come to your mother by my hand. I promise you... But, I won't rest until justice is done. They took something from me and I want it back."

"What's that, dad?"

"My manhood, son... My manhood... I won't sleep until I make this right." The vacant look in my eyes scared him.

"I guess you have to do what you have to do. I never knew that she was capable of such a thing. This guy, Vic , looked dangerous and to be about 240 pounds, dad. You're too much of a nice guy to tangle with him. Let the police handle it. What are you going to do?" Steve asked with genuine concern.

"Don't worry about me, son. It's better if you don't know what I'm going to do. The nice guy you're describing died on that operating table. It's Vic and your mother who should be afraid." 

I waited until I was strong enough and then started collecting the tools I would need to deal with my bitch ex wife and Vic. Among the items gathered was a collapsible baton and a stun gun. The clerk explained how it worked. 

'Generally, a quarter second will startle the attacker giving him short term pain and muscle contraction. One or two seconds will cause intense pain, contractions and could drop the attacker. Over three seconds and the attacker is in deep shit. He will drop to the ground and stay unconscious for several minutes.'

I decided to deal with Vic first. I waited for Vic to leave his condo. As he faced the door of his car, I gave him a four second touch of the stun gun. When he woke up, he was cuffed and tied in the back of his car. I stuck a handkerchief laced with chloroform in his face. He slept until we reached our destination. He awakened standing on the trunk of his car with his hands tied and stretched above him. The rope was secured by a tree branch.

"Where the fuck am I? Why am I here? Who the fuck are you.?" He strained to see me clearly in the dim light. I slowly became visible as I drew nearer.

"How do you like me now, Vic?" I said as he recognized my face. "I've been planning our reunion for a while now."

"Let me go now you dick less wimp and I'll think about letting you live. I'm warning you."

"You're warning me you piece of shit? I'm trembling with fear. How many people have you hurt this week, this month, this year, Vic? You're a very bad man and you beat me to death."

"If your cunt of an ex wife hadn't of stopped me, I would have finished the job."

"You did a better job than you thought, Vic. I'm back from the dead. Was the cunt worth your life, Vic? Was she? That's the price you're going to pay for that piece of worthless pussy."

I snapped open the baton. "I'm still hurting from the beating you gave me, Vic. It's only right that I return your gift of pain." I saw fear in his eyes. "You flinched, Vic. I saw you. Lets see how tough you really are." 

"You don't have the balls to..."

"What, Vic? I don't have the balls to do this?"

I smashed his right knee cap with the baton. He would have fallen, but the rope held him up. He groaned as he tried to support himself on his left leg. That didn't last long as I shattered the other knee cap. His pain was intense. He made a strange guttural animal sound. He was finally feeling the pain that he had inflicted on many other people. I could see that he was slipping into shock.

"We're in the everglades, Vic. I could leave you out here like this and let the gators, bugs and critters deal with you. But, I'll be civilized about this. Directly behind you is a pool of quicksand. I'm going to take the brake off of your car after I cut you loose and send your car down the hill to your introduction to hell. After that, I'll walk out to the road not far from here and go home as I reflect on our brief relationship. Do you have any last words, Vic?"

"Kiss my ass shrimp dick," he managed to say between clenched teeth. 

I gave him another second of stun gun. That got his attention. When he regained consciousness, I cut him down and he collapsed onto his car. Pure hatred radiated from his face. I felt nothing, no hatred, anger, compassion, nothing. 

"I've got a date with your girlfriend, gotta go. Hold on, Vic. I wouldn't want you to fall off and get ran over." I said releasing the parking brake as I gave the car a push. I watched it slowly roll backwards.

"Fuck you... Fuck you... Fuck..." He shouted, clinging into the car as it disappeared into the muck.

My ex never changed the locks to our house. Apparently, she figured that I'd never return. I was sitting on the couch in the dark when she came in. When she turned on the light, she saw me.

"Hello, Kate."

"What are you doing here? Get out. Vic will kill you for coming here.

"I think Vic's days of hurting people are over, dear." I said sarcastically. Sit in the chair over there, we have some tings to discuss."

"I will not... I'm leaving and calling Vic." She panicked.

She attempted to leave. I quickly approached her and gave her a quick touch from the stun gun. Her body jolted upright. She looked as if someone had punched her. Her legs weakened. I helped her to the chair. It didn't take long for her to recover.

"Now, we're going to have a talk. If you try to leave or touch the phone, I will place this stun gun on your neck for a couple of seconds. I guarantee you, you won't like that."

"I know you, Chad. You would never do that."

"I'm not the man you married, Kate. Believe me when I tell you that I'm now a ruthless cold hearted son of bitch. Vic knows what I'm talking about."

" I think I like you better now. What did you do?"

" You are one sick bitch. Let's just say that I buried some unfinished business."

"Ok, I'll play you game. What do you want?" She asked with a mixture of fear and contempt. Her bravado was fading quickly. She thought I was going to kill her.

"Why, Kate? I was fair to you in the divorce. I didn't file for adultery even though I had plenty of proof. I never tried to harm you. Why did you have to hurt me?" As I spoke, I nervously fiddled with the pen in my hand.

"The more I thought about the divorce, the more I hated you. I wanted to hurt you for deserting me. In my own way, I always loved you. I couldn't stand your rejection. I had to let you know how I felt."

"How did Vic get into this?"

"I met him in a bar. I told him that you abused me in our marriage and I wanted revenge. He was the perfect boy toy for the job. He likes hurting people. I wanted to punish you. Vic had other ideas."

"I remember that kick you gave me on the way out. It seemed to me you and Vic were on the same page."

"I had to that. He was going to kill you. It was the only way I could think of to stop him."

"Some of what you just said may be true. But, I remember the hatful sound of your voice and the force of the kick. You enjoyed hurting me. The only reason you're still alive is because I promised Steve that I wouldn't kill you." I approached the chair she sat in. she shrank away in fear as I did.

I grabbed her by hair hard enough to hurt and brought the stun gun to her face and sparked it a few times. I clicked the pen I was holding and she heard her entire confession from the pen I had in my hand, which was a digital recorder.

"My lawyer tells me that a confession from you corroborated by my injuries should guarantee that you and Vic will have warrants issued for aggravated assault, kidnapping, attempted murder, and depraved indifference. Some of these charges are guaranteed to stick. You're going to jail, bitch."

I released her and went on with the rest of my life. Kate left town. The authorities are looking for her. She and Vic are now a hunted fugitives. I never heard anything about her again. I don't think they'll ever catch up to Vic. 



Transition



This is a continuation of my earlier story 'Prologue Ch. 02'

It was 1:30 on Wednesday -- the time slave jim had been ordered to appear at Goddess Veronica's home to execute the slave contract and give the Goddess ownership of him. He had made the changes required in the written contract and had emailed it to Goddess Veronica. She had replied it was acceptable and they were going to sign it Wednesday, so he should be ready to do so. He was sitting in his car barefoot, wearing only shorts and a 'Slave' tee shirt as he had been directed. His ass was very clean -- he had given himself 3 enemas. He hadn't eaten since light cold cereal in the morning, -- but had drunk 2 bottles of water so he would not be dehydrated. He had 2 nice California Cabernet bottles with him in a cloth re-useable bag with handles, as he had been instructed. 

Mistress Alex, Goddess Veronica's dyke pro domme friend, had been added to the contract as an associate owner. Specific conditions and covenants had been added to the contract . As part of the Goddess's right to regulate j's behavior, it had been specified Veronica would keep him completely shaved -- including his eyebrows. He agreed to wear make-up in public as directed by her, and to travel on public transportation coming and going in clothing selected by the Goddess when ordered to do so. He was going to be tattooed and pierced as the Goddess decided, including having his ear lobes pierced so he could wear pierced earrings. He agreed to wear humbling female clothes, including girly wigs, hats, high heels shoes and maid costumes both privately and in public as directed from time to time.

He agreed to wear a padlocked dog collar at all times with a tag like you can make at PetSmart on it reading "Slave j -- property of Goddess V". He also would have to wear a locked CB3000 Chastity device whenever he was not with the Goddess or another Domme. 

He agreed to be photographed and put on the internet in various ways including a full frontal posting on the International Slave Registry. He would only eat food allowed by the Goddess so she could make him get skinny on a rigorous diet. He would add her to his debit card and give her passwords on line for his credit cards, so she could check on line what he was spending and buying. She would have custody of his checkbook, would control what cash he had, and all his mail would be forwarded to a post office box she had set up. She was going to inspect his house and remove all unauthorized food and anything else she wanted from it. He had to produce receipts for his purchases, so she could keep track of how much food he was buying and eating and compare it with his on line accounts. And he had made a set of keys to his house and car to give to the Goddess. 

He picked up his cell -- he was extremely nervous -- and called the Goddess. "Yes, what is it?" she answered impatiently. 

He answered "The Goddess's slave has arrived, has the wine and keys, and is ready to approach the Goddess's chambers on the Goddess's command, Goddess."

"OK, get out of your car, lock it, and put your keys, cell phone and wallet in the carry bag with the wine. Leave the cell turned on. Walk to the front of the house, and when you get there, drop to your hands and knees, put the bag handles around your neck so it hangs in front of you, and crawl from the sidewalk up the walk to the front of the house carrying the bag around your neck. When you get to the front steps, crawl around in the grass to the right side of the house, and then crawl up the driveway. Don't stop at the little porch on the side. Keep your head and eyes down, looking at the ground in front of you, and don't look around. Come around and crawl up the back porch to the back door. When you get on the porch, put the bag down outside the door, strip off your clothes, drop them off the porch into the bushes and kneel down along side of the door not blocking it. Have your knees and feet spread apart, with your ass up in the air, and your forehead and nose on the porch floor with your eyes closed, and your hands palms down on the porch along side your head. Got it, asslicker?"

"Yes, Goddess. Thank you, Goddess." 

"All right, get moving -- I'm waiting. And from this point forward, unless I give you permission, you are forbidden to speak." She hung up. 

J knew the driveway was gravel, and it would hurt to crawl up it. He put the items in the carry bag, got out of the car and locked it and dropped the keys in. He looked around nervously, but did not see anyone on the street in the middle of the afternoon. He was parked just around the corner from the Goddess's house, so he turned the corner and walked quickly past two houses to the sidewalk in front of Her house. Looking around and still not seeing anyone, he knelt and looped the bag handles over his head and around his neck so it hung in front of him. He faced the ground and crawled up the walk, with the rough concrete hurting his knees and feet. Near the front step, he turned onto the grass and continued to crawl. The lawn was all wet -- the Goddess had watered it on purpose, so his knees and hands got very muddy quickly. He reached the corner of the house and turned on to the driveway. The sharp gravel really hurt his hands and knees as he crawled along trying to keep the bag from dragging on the ground.

He knew that Connie, the Goddess's neighbor on that side, had a deal with the Goddess that if she saw any of the Goddess's subs outside, she would be invited to witness the slave's punishment and humiliation. He wondered if he was being set up. He dared not look up to see if Connie was watching from a window or her side door, so he just crawled on.

When he reached the back of the house, he crawled up the steps at the back onto the porch. He put the bag down alongside the door as he had been ordered. He then stripped off his clothes and dropped them into the bushes, and assumed the required kneeling position and waited.

It seemed like eternity, but in about 5 minutes he heard footfalls of a woman in high heels crunching on the gravel driveway and then come up the steps behind him. She was silent. He heard the wine bottles clink together as she picked up the bag. He heard her move around him, and then he felt something he assumed was the cell phone being set down on his upturned ass. He then heard a knock on the door, which was silently opened, the woman stepped inside, and the door was closed. He was left kneeling in silence, terrified, with the nervousness roiling his stomach. 

After about 10 of the longest minutes he had ever endured, the cellphone sitting on his ass began to ring with its distinctive ringtone -- 'Whip it' by Devo, which he had been ordered to use as his ringtone by Goddess Victoria. This phone was only used for communication with the Goddess. Keeping his face down, he reached behind him, grabbed it and pressed to pick up. 

"Slave, listen to me. The door is going to be opened and I'm coming out. Keep silent and your face down. That's all." The phone clicked off and he replaced it on his ass. He heard the door open and a woman stepped onto the porch. Veronica bent over him, and strapped a blindfold mask over his eyes so he could not see. "Kneel up straight" she said, and he obeyed.

She stepped behind him and put a leather dog collar on him around his neck. She clicked the small padlock on it closed. "Get up," she ordered, and he did so. She clicked a chain leash onto the collar and pulled him toward the door, and said "Come with me." She opened the door and pulled him stumbling through it. He could tell he was being pulled down a hall to one of the bedrooms used as a dungeon room. He could hear female chuckles and giggles and he entered the room. 

He heard an unfamiliar voice say "Cheers, ladies. Here's to Women rule and slave boys drool." Glasses clinked as other voices laughed and replied "Cheers to that, ladies." 

Goddess Veronica took off his leash, and then said "Slave, there are three beautiful women standing in front of you. Get on your hands and knees and crawl to each of them. When you get there ask for permission to greet them and kiss their feet. Show them you are well trained." 

"Yes, Goddess," j replied as he dropped to his hands and knees on the cold tile floor. He crawled with his head down toward the first voice he had heard, keeping his head near the floor. He bumped into a shoe, and said, "Excuse me, Mistress, may Goddess Veronica's humble slave greet the Mistress and kiss the Mistress's shoes?" He heard a giggle, but no answer.

Goddess Veronica interjected with a laugh, "Connie, you've never had a male slave kiss your feet before, have you?" 

"No, what do I do?" Connie answered, as the other ladies laughed.

Veronica smiled and said "Call it 'slave' and tell it to kiss your shoes and lick them respectfully."

"OK, slave, kiss and lick my shoes with respect," Connie giggled. 

"Yes, Mistress," said j, and he leaned forward and slowly kissed the toe of Connie's left shoe three times, and then slowly licked the top of her patent leather high heel pump. He then shifted to her right shoe, and repeated the ritual. He then knelt with his forehead on the floor and said "Thank you, Mistress, for allowing Goddess Veronica's worthless slave the privilege of greeting the Mistress and kissing the Mistress's feet and licking the Mistress's shoes." 

Connie laughed again and took a drink from her wineglass, looking at the other women and said "I could get used to this." 

The other women laughed, and Mistress Alex said, "You don't know the half of it, girlfriend. You're gonna love having Veronica's piece of shit slave next door. Your toilet and asshole are going to be finger lickin' clean." There was more laughter from the women. 

Veronica ordered, "Shitmouth, crawl over to the right and greet my next guest." Slave j did so until he bumped up against another shoe pushed against his forehead. With Alex and then Gretchen in turn, j repeated the ritual. Veronica then ordered j to come over and greet her. He crawled toward her voice and knelt before her with his forehead on the floor touching her shoe toe. 

"Please Goddess, may the Goddess's worthless slave kiss the Goddess's feet?" 

Veronica smiled and said, "Yes, pissface, get to work." 

With Veronica, j kissed each shoe 6 times, after each kiss saying "Thank you, Goddess, for allowing the Goddess's worthless slave the privilege of greeting the Goddess and kissing the Goddess's feet." When he finished he then slowly licked the top of each shoe's toe, and then crawled back a step and put his forehead on the floor. 

"Stand up, slave, so my guests can get to know you better." J rose, and Veronica grabbed his cock and pulled him toward a cock stock that was standing in the middle of the room under an inverted U shaped frame made of 4 by 4 lumber attached to the ceiling for bondage purposes. It had pulleys, rings and cleats on it so it could be used to secured subs in place. She had him stand on the floor plate of the cockstock. She put wrist restraints on his wrists, and secured them together behind his back. His feet were put into the ankle restraints at the bottom of the cock stock vertical post, which were locked with small padlocks. She then adjusted the height of the post, and pulled his balls through the vise pipes, pressed them together, tightening down the wing bolts on each side. His balls were stretched and distended in front of him, held tightly in the vise clamp. His swollen cockshaft was pointing forward over the top of the upper vise pipe. 

She stepped behind him, attached a cord to his wrist restraints, and pulled his hands half way up his back behind him and attached the cord to his collar, so he could not cover his ass with his hands. Clips on ropes through ceiling pulleys on the U frame were attached to his collar on the sides. Veronica then pulled them tight, making him stand up straight, and wrapped the ropes around cleats on the vertical sides of the frame he was under. This meant if j lost his balance while in the cockstock, he couldn't fall down, and he could not bend forward to protect his cock. He was helpless, blindfolded with his balls, cock, ass, face and nipples completely exposed and defenseless.

Goddess Veronica's neighbor Connie was early middle aged. Her husband had been killed by a drunk driver 3 years earlier in a car accident. She had collected two big insurance policies, as well as a good lawsuit settlement, so she didn't need to work. 

She found the men she had met who tried to hook up with her distasteful, and possibly after her money. She had a strong libido, and kept herself pleasured and orgasmic with a nice supply of toys and dildos kept in her night stand. She loved coming every day when she felt like it with no need to cater to a man. She had known for some time of Veronica's Domme thing, and had discussed her interest with Veronica. 

At Veronica's suggestion, she had looked at several websites such as Elise Sutton and the femdom stuff on xhamster. Although she had never done anything like that, she found the idea of Female Domination exciting, and was curious to try it out. Veronica had invited her over for this ceremony with the idea of making j serve Connie once a week or so if Connie liked the idea. 

Connie was about 5'6" and 130 pounds. She had medium sized but nicely rounded breasts, with well defined aureoles and perky nipples. Her jet black hair was worn in a pageboy style with bangs that made her look younger, and she had a pale complexion, green eyes, and a well rounded ass. She usually wore slightly heavy makeup, and favored bright red lipstick on her full lips. 

She was a stylish dresser, favoring short skirts and low neckline tops and spiky stilettos. She mostly wore open toed shoes, as well as Victoria's Secret lingerie. She had become quite the little cock teasing bitch as she went about her business. She really enjoyed seeing hungry-eyed men look lustfully at her in public, to no avail. It made her pussy wet. She kept her nails and toenails professionally done with sexy French tips, and had become almost addicted to having the Vietnamese girl at the mani-pedi shop massage her feet when she touched up her toenails and buffed her feet with a pumice stone. 

She kept her dark, curly bush fully luxuriant on her mound of Venus, never having shaved it. It hid a very large clit, which she loved playing with. Her late husband loved giving her head, and particularly had loved sucking her giant clit like it was a little cock. After he died, she had found she liked masturbating with her asshole, pussy and nipples, and usually did so twice a day -- upon waking up, as an eye-opener, and when she retired to bed at night, as a relaxer and pleasant dream maker. 

She missed having a man blow her, although she had no interest in having a heavy breather writhing on top of her while he pleased himself raping her cunt. A slave boy might be just the thing for her to have more fun having her pussy and asshole worshipped by an eager tongue. Connie was looking forward to the events of the day, with wetness lubing her labia and flutters in her stomach. 

Veronica told Connie they were going to do a slave ceremony with j later that day, but before they did that, they were going to break Connie in with a little domination. Connie nodded and smiled, and 'OK, I'd like that". 

Veronica walked in front of j and invited Connie to join her. "I'm going to give you a chance to have this slave serve you if you would like that. Since you've never done this before, I'm going to have you do some domination with him so you can see what its like. OK?" 

Connie said "Sure, what do you want to do?" 

"Well, it's completely submissive, so we should get you intimately acquainted with it. I'll show you some stuff, and then you can do it, too. In a while, we'll take off his blindfold. OK with you?" 

"Sure," Connie replied. 

Veronica said "It's very dominant and controlling to abuse the slave's face. So watch what I'm going to do." She reached out and grabbed j's nose between her thumb and forefinger and squeezed it hard and twisted it and pulled it hard from side to side, shaking his head. J moaned and breathed heavily, but did not resist. Veronica, released his reddened nose and stuck one of her fingers into each of his nostrils and pushed them in as far as she could get them. She then pushed his nose up hard and twisted his head from side to side. As he groaned, she pulled out her fingers, stuck them in his mouth and ordered him to lick them clean, which he did. She then grabbed his lower lip between her thumb and forefinger, pulled it down hard and twisted it and twisted his head roughly from side to side. He made a high pitched squeal as the women laughed. 

She ordered him to stick out his tongue, and she picked a small cloth so it would not slip, grabbed the tongue, and pulled it out of his head as far as she could get it with her right hand, shook his head from side to side, as he moaned more. She then released his tongue, and began slapping his face hard with the open palm of her hand -- first 5 stokes on the right cheek, then 5 on the left, switching hands as she went from side to side. She ordered him to push his face forward to accept the blows and count them, which he did up to a total of 25 on each side. The women were laughing as he took the punishment, which left his face bright red. She then stepped behind him, and reached around and stuck two fingers on each hand inside his mouth inside each cheek, and began to pull his mouth wide open. It really hurt him, and he feared his lips would rip, and he squealed loudly. She released him and stepped away.

'OK, Connie, your turn. Maybe start by slapping his face. You can use that little strap so you don't hurt your hand. See if you can raise some welts on his face cheeks. The biggest thing newbie dommes have a hard time getting used to is hitting these pieces of shit hard enough. If you are not raising welts and getting noises out of it, you should hit harder. OK"? 

Connie laughed and took the leather strap from Veronica. It was stiff black leather, about 2 inches across and a foot long. It was shiny black leather on one side and nappy red cloth on the other side. Connie weighed it in her right hand, stepped a bit to j's left side, and slapped the right side of his face hard with it. It made a loud crack as it hit his already reddened skin, and he gasped and grunted. A deeper red mark almost immediately appeared. 

"Bravo," said Veronica, and the other women giggled. "Do it again, about 4 more times, and then switch to the other side," said Veronica.

"OK," she replied, and she swung again, with the same result -- a loud slap noise, a deeper red mark and an amusing inhaling gasp and groan that made the women all laugh. She wound up and did three more times, leaving his right cheek glowing red with welt marks starting up along where the edges of the strap had struck him. She then shifted the strap to her left hand, stepped to his right side, and gave him 5 more strokes on his face. 

"You're a natural," said Veronica with admiration. "Give me the strap, step up close to him, pinch his cheeks hard and start asking him any questions you want." 

Connie did so, grasping j's cheeks hard and twisting them and enjoying the feeling of power she got when she felt him gasp and writhe, while pressing his face forward as a sign of his submission to her. "You may call me Mistress Constance, pig. So, slave, are you gonna give Veronica ownership of you?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress Constance," he replied. 

"And do you want to serve me, too?"

"Yes, if it pleases the Goddess and Mistress would like that." 

Veronica said "I think you will find it fun to have him serve you, Connie. We need to do the ceremony, and to get to the tattoo parlor and some other things, so let me show you a couple of things. Have you ever beaten a slave boy's slave meat?" 




Transition



"No, not yet," Connie replied. 

"Well, the meat is a lot tougher than you think, although it is pain sensitive, which is good for you. A well trained slave like this piece of shit has been put in a place where the line between pleasure and pain has been erased. So it gets off on being tortured. And you can really beat the shit out of slave meat, and he'll just beg for more. See, I can grab its cock like this, and squeeze it and twist it, and he moans because it hurts, but he is desperate to have me keep doing it. Isn't that right, asshole licker?"

"Yes, Goddess, thank you Goddess."

"Connie, if you dig your nails in and pinch or slap the meat right here on the bottom under the head, it will hurt but it will make him harder. And if you hit the top of the cock head with your hand or a crop, it will hurt even more. Watch." Veronica then pinched the skin under the head, and pulled it and twisted it, and then slapped it as j moaned, but his cock twitched and hardened. She then picked up a crop with a little hand on the end, and said "Count, piss mouth." 

She hit the head of the cock, which bounced up and down, while j gasped with each strike as he counted. Veronica continued to 20, as j increasingly squealed with each hit. "Then, you can do the same thing with his balls. You can also grab them and squeeze them hard if you are annoyed with him. Watch." She put down the crop and picked up the leather strap that had been used on j's face. She grabbed his cock head in her left hand and pulled the shaft up, exposing the balls. She then said "Count," and began striking j's nuts with the strap in her right hand. His balls were held out in the vise on the cock stock. He twisted his belly from side to side as he counted and grunted hard with each blow. She grabbed them and squeezed them with a wicked grin on her face as he groaned deeply. "Now you try it. Not too much, we're getting his meat tattooed and I don't want it bruised too much." 

Connie took the crop and struck j on his cockhead. She ordered him to count, which he did, with moans and grunts with each blow. The cock sprung upward from each stroke. When she got to 20, she switched to his balls, repeating the process. The she squeezed that as j groaned again. She was beginning to like this.

Veronica then announced it was time for the ceremony. While the ladies refilled their wine glasses, Veronica let j out of his bondage. She pulled him over to a spot on the floor, and ordered him to kneel. She then took off his blindfold. He blinked in the light. In front of him was a video camera on a tripod. The 3 women were standing there facing him with wineglasses in hand and smirky smiles on their faces. 

Veronica told j to look at the camera which was running and say he knew he was being video recorded, state the date and that this was voluntary and at his request. He did so. 

She then went through the slave contract with him, identifying him, getting him to say he had asked for enslavement and wanted Goddess Veronica and Mistress Alex to take ownership of him. He said he understood he could be publically humiliated, beaten, marked, pierced and made to perform household, personal and sexual services. He said he understood he was giving Goddess Veronica control over all his property, money, clothing and food. He also said he was agreeing to pay her a cash stipend of $500 a week and $250 to Mistress Alex for their time and trouble, and would pay anyone else the Goddess directed. He was also going to sign a separate Deed conveying ownership of his body to Veronica and Alex as joint owners. 

When they were done, she had him say everything being done was voluntary and at his request, and he hoped Goddess Veronica and Mistress Alex would accept ownership and control over him, and that he was ready to sign the slave contract and Deed. The Goddess then said she accepted and Mistress Alex agreed. 

Three copies of the contract and two of the Deed were put in front of j and he signed them while being video recorded. Mistress Alex then took a needle and pricked j's cock head to get a little blood. He put his right thumb in the blood, and put his bloody thumb print on the contracts and the Deed. The Deed had a fancy blue paper backer on it like lawyers use on contracts and wills - Gretchen provided the backers because she worked in a law office. The two dommes then signed them, while Gretchen and Connie applauded and offered congratulations. Connie signed as a witness, and Gretchen, who was a notary, notarized the signatures and put her seal on the contracts and the Deeds. A bottle of champagne was opened and the women toasted ownership of j. Veronica bought out a bottle of her urine, and j was told to drink it as a toast to his owners, which he did. 

Veronica then said it was time to remove j's hair before they took him to be tattooed. She said when they went to The Inkwell for tattooing, they would take j's ATM card so Connie could get $500 and go with Gretchen to Eroticon, a local adult shop near The Inkwell in a funky part of town. She could use the money to pick out canes, paddles and other toys to keep at her home to use on j, and then join them at The Inkwell.

A sheet had been spread on the bondage table on the side of the room, and there were towels, soap, a dozen Bic razors and several bottles of Nair Shower Power depilatory cream. Veronica got a bowl of hot water and told them she was going to shave j's pubic hairs, crotch, asshole and nipples first, since you weren't supposed to use Nair on those areas. Then they would cover him with the Nair over his whole remaining body except his head. After the Nair worked, he would be showered down. Then she would have him kneel before her and she would complete his first act of owned submission by shaving his head. 

They all laughed and mocked j as to how pathetic he was going to look. Veronica took off his collar, and he was ordered up onto the table and she went to work. She used an electric shaver to first trim his pubic hair, nipple hair and the hair on his head very short in a buzz cut. Then his pubes were washed, soaped and lathered and she took a razor and started shaving his balls, having Alex help by stretching out his scrotum skin to get a smooth shave. She then went to work on his main pubes, shaving down above his cock and all around it. When he was smooth and hairless there, he was ordered to turn over on his knees with his ass in the air, and his perineum and asshole area and the creases between his legs were also shaved. 

He was then ordered to stand on the floor on the sheet, and he was ordered to apply the Nair all over his armpits. He then stood with his arms spread wide and his legs apart. The women put on rubber gloves and then were each given a bottle of Nair, and they applied it all over his body except his head, nipples and pubic area -- from the top of his feet to the top of his neck just below his chin. When he was completely covered with it, he looked like the Pillsbury dough boy, all white everywhere. They were laughing and insulting him as they worked. 

Veronica had the ladies take off their rubber gloves and wash up hands and told them they had to wait 10 minutes for the cream to work. They had finished the 2 bottles of wine j had brought, so they opened 2 more - they were getting mellow and less inhibited. When the time had passed, j was ordered to walk out to the back yard. It was secluded, and Veronica didn't want to allow him into her shower. 

So he stood on a concrete patio pad with a drain hole in it, and was hosed down with a garden hose. He was then given a bar of soap to soap himself all over, and was hosed down again. He was then inspected. He was hairless except for his head, and was very smooth. A bowl of hot water, soap, shave cream and razors were brought out, and he was ordered to his knees.

Veronica ordered him to close his eyes, and she soaped up his entire head. She then applied shave cream. She then moved to the top of his head. His hands hung submissively at his side while she made her modifications on her new toy. He turned his head and lifted his chin as directed. She saved his eyebrows for last. When she was satisfied, she picked up the hose and washed him down. He was ordered to stand and re-soap himself from head to foot, and was hosed down again. A re-inspection satisfied the women he was completely smooth, and one said he looked like a Mexican hairless dog or a plucked chicken and they all laughed. 

His collar was then replaced and buckled and locked on him. He was still all wet, but he was sent over to the bushes where his shorts and shirt had been dropped, and he was told to put them on. He was then made to clean up the stuff from the shaving, as the ladies each went to the bathroom and got ready to go for the tattooing. Each brought a glass of piss out of the bathroom with her, and he was ordered to drink all four glasses down, which he did, thanking them with each glass.

Veronica told the ladies she had a lot of grocery bags and they were going to stop at j's home on the way back and remove all his food. They would each take whatever they wanted home with them, and the rest would be left on the curb in a shopping center so anyone who needed it could take it. She wanted them to know where he lived, and she was going to give each of them a key to his house so they could drop in unannounced to check on him if they wanted to.

She told them that her plan was to get j tattooed that afternoon, and then keep him at her house overnight until Friday around 5PM, when he would be sent home for the weekend. She would break him in at her place during those 2 days.

She had all the food she needed for him, so she was ready to start his new diet. He was about 6'1" and weighed about 190 pounds, and she would make him shrink to 160. She wanted him thin and tight, so he would look good when dressed in femme clothes. She also would spend time with him during the next 2 days at Connie's, getting Connie comfortable with using her new servant and slave, and giving Connie coaching on caning and torturing him. During that time, between him working at Connie's and cleaning and serving Veronica, and being tortured, humiliated and beaten, she would take him shopping and would buy the food he was allowed to have at his house and they would deliver it there. For the next week, she wanted him back at her place on Monday morning. She would keep him Monday and Tuesday. She would then send him home at the end of Tuesday.

He would return Wednesday morning, do any chores required at Veronica's and then would be sent to Mistress Alex's place. He would go on public transportation, with them buying him a monthly transit pass. He would need such a pass, since he would not be allowed to have any cash. While there, he would clean both Alex's dungeon and the condo she shared with Gretchen, and submit as ordered. He would then return to Veronica's and be sent home. The routine would be repeated on Thursday Connie. On Friday, he would return to Veronica's for another full day. He would then be retained on Friday night to prepare for a little dinner and cocktails for her friends Veronica planned for Saturday. She intended to invite her domme friends over to see her new property and enjoy him serving their elegant dinner. He would then be sent home and given Sunday off to rest. 

All the women thought this was a great plan, and congratulated Veronica on having thought this all through. They then went outside. Alex and Gretchen piled into Connie's car, and Veronica seated herself in the rear seat of j's very nice Audi A8 sedan, and he drove like a chauffer. He was collared, bare footed, and only wearing shorts and his slave tee shirt. Veronica had his house keys, and his driver's license and ATM card, which she put into a small credit card case. His wallet and the extra stuff were left at her house. 

He was ordered to drive to The Inkwell and drop Veronica off in front. He then drove to a parking lot about 2 blocks away, parked the car and walked back barefoot on the cold city streets. When he got to The Inkwell, the 4 women were there waiting for him. He was taken to an ATM a few doors down, and pulled $500 cash from it, that he gave to Connie. She and Alex went a few doors down to Eroticon to buy new toys for Connie. Veronica and Alex had j return with them to The Inkwell. They had him kneel on the sidewalk, and Veronica re-clipped the chain leash to the collar j was wearing. She tugged on it and said "Heel." j crawled to her heel, and Veronica and Gretchen went into the tattoo parlor with j crawling behind them to get started on the tattooing. 

Chaney Skillington, the tattoo artist, was waiting for them inside with her lesbian wife Skeeter. Chaney was very butch, tatted and pierced extensively, and looked something like the 'Girl with the Dragon Tattoo', with a dark complexion. Skeeter was pale and skinny, with buzz cut blond hair and rings through her nose and lips and Celtic sleeve tattoos covering both her arms. Both tattooed lesbos were dressed in black. They both had on wife beater type tops, and Skeeter had on long black jeans and black flip flops. Chaney was in black cargo shorts with black clip on suspenders and was wearing black Doc Martens 'Sadie' high heel boots. She was a tough looking bitch, disliked straight men, and was looking forward to marking Veronica's new toy. 

"So, is this piece of shit your new slave, Veronica?" asked Chaney.

"Yeah, we did the contract thing like I told you about back at my place. Alex is next door with my friend Connie buying some stuff for Connie to beat this slave meat with. They'll come over in a little while. But I own this slut now, and I want to get it marked up so it's clear I own it."

"Well, we talked about it, but do you know what you want?"

"Yeah, I do. I don't want any marks that show when its dressed in clothes. But I want it to be clear it's owned when it's naked, and I want the marks to make it hard to ever have a woman let it have sex with her ever again. I want 'Slave' in pretty big letters on its ass below its tramp stamp place -- with the 'A' centered just above its ass crack, and the other letters in a small arc to the left and right. Put a frame around it so it looks like a label. On the left ass cheek I want a circle, maybe of Celtic marks, about 7 or 8 inches across. Inside the circle it should say 'Property of Goddess' inside the edge of the circle, and in the middle, there should be a 'V'. On the right ass cheek I want a large 'V' with no circle in the middle of the cheek. On its front, I want 'Slave' in big letters across its lower belly below its navel. Put that in a label border, too. Then, the best part, I think, I want 'slave' down its cock shaft. The first letter, the 's', should be on its belly just where the shaft comes out of its belly. Then I want the 'lave' down the shaft, so it shows when its meat hangs down. And the last thing, I want a 'woman' symbol, you know, the circle with a cross on the bottom, on the cock head. Whadda think?" 

"Wow, that's good stuff. I really like it. It's gonna take a while, and he has to sign the paperwork to make it legal. I did some snake stuff on a cock before, so I've done it. He shouldn't be hard while I do it, so he'll have to jerk off first so he's limp while I do the work. And who's gonna pay for this? It's a lot of work -- I'm gonna charge $1,500." 

"Oh, he'll sign. And he is a jerk off, no problem there. And he'll lick up his jizz when he cums -- he's a good cum eater." The women all laughed. "And we've got his ATM card, so you'll get paid right now as soon as Connie and Alex come in. Slave, you heard what I told Miss Chaney, and that's what you want, isn't it?" 

Kneeling on his hands and knees with his head down, j was both excited and terrified. This was a big, step, but it was what he asked for. He swallowed, and said "Yes, my Goddess. That's what I want, and I'll sign the paperwork and pay for it. Please have me marked as your property." 

The ladies all laughed, and Chaney said, "I love it," as Alex and Connie came in with a couple of black plastic shopping bags that had cane handles sticking out of them. Veronica told Connie to give Chaney the ATM debit card and she went off to do the paperwork and run the card. She returned, and j was allowed to kneel up straight and the paperwork was put in front of him. Veronica produced his driver's license, which was photocopied, and he signed to accept his immediate fate. Besides, he heard Casper Smart got his girl Jennifer Lopez's name tattooed on his cock, and some guy got 'Mini' tattooed on his dick to win a Mini Cooper, so it couldn't be that bad.

When the paperwork was done, Veronica said to Chaney, while you do up the flash, why don't we go down the street and have some Chinese food? We'll pick up some wine at the liquor store and bring it back with us so we can watch while you mark him. I'll take his clothes and padlock his collar to the radiator in the back so he's under control. Would you or Skeeter like anything from the Chinese place?"

"Nah, we'll be cool. Those 2 gay boys couldn't make it over to watch. But I've got work to do -- so go have dinner." 

"OK, that's cool. We'll see you in about an hour. If he misbehaves, give him a good beating. I'm gonna give him a drink before we go." With that, she took j's chain leash and walked him into the bathroom. "Lift up the seat and put your head in the bowl, put your face in the water, and then take a big drink."

"Yes, Goddess," j replied, and plunged his face into the cold toilet water. He then pulled up a little bit and slurped and swallowed toilet water. After a minute or 2, Veronica told him it was enough, and she pulled him into the next room. She led him over to the old fashioned radiator on one wall, And lopped his leash chain around it and reset the pad lock. 

"Lie down there, be quiet, and don't make any trouble, slave," said Veronica. 

"Yes, Goddess, thank you Goddess," he replied as he dropped onto his belly on the floor. She turned, left the room, turning out the light and closing the door. 

Veronica reentered the main room and said to Chaney, "OK, he's all set. We'll be back soon. Have fun!" In the other room, j could barely believe it. He had asked for it -- and here he was, naked, chained to a radiator in the dark, waiting to be tattooed and marked as a slave. He drifted into sub space, and drifted off to sleep. 

About an hour later, the door opened and Veronica flipped on the lights. "Get up, dog shit," she ordered. j got to his knees as she came over and unlocked the chain. She grabbed his leash and pulled him out into the main room. The six women were all there, grinning wickedly. All the women except Chaney had a glass of wine in their hand. Chaney said she wanted to do his ass side first, so he was ordered onto the table on his belly. Cheney dropped a towel over his head, applied the first flash for the 'V' on his right ass cheek, and started to use the buzzing needle. It felt like a stinging, buzzing sensation, a bit painful but not too bad on his fleshy ass. Over the next 2 hours, the three tats were put on his ass, as the women watched and made insulting remarks and jokes. 

The he was rolled over, and was ordered to stand up and jerk off. He did so as the women hooted and laughed. When he was going to cum, he asked for permission, and was given a paper plate to shoot his load onto. It was then put on the floor and he went to his hands and knees and licked it up on command. 

He then got back on the table sitting up with his balls pushed down between his legs. Chaney took an 8 inch square piece of stiff foam poster board, put it under his cock, and used a large binder clip to secure his cock head to the end of the board after cutting a notch for his meat to fit in at the other end. With his meat clamped down, she took pins and stretched the shaft skin side to side and pinned it to the board so it was stretched smooth. She then took her tool and tattooed the 'lave' down the shaft. She then released the clip holding down the cock head and tattooed the 'woman' symbol onto the head. She had given him a piece of folded leather to bite down on, as this work hurt like hell, and his feet and toes twitched uncontrollably. 




Transition



When she was done, she had him lay on his back, and she marked the 's' on his belly above the 'lave', and did the larger 'slave' on his belly under his navel. It had taken about 2 hours, but it was done. Chaney brought out her camera, and took pictures of her work. She promised to send it to all the women. If would be on the internet by the morning. 

j was made to stand in front of the mirrors and look at himself. He was hairless and naked and marked front and back as a slave and Goddess Veronica's property. He had gotten what he asked for -- and hoped he still welcomed it in a couple of months. 

Chaney reminded Veronica and j it would take about a week or more for the tattoos to heal, so that he could not be beaten on them until they were fully healed. Veronica smirked and said. "Oh, I'll think of something else to do." 

The 4 women prepared to leave. j was given his shorts and shirt and sent to get his car with his driver's and debit card. The women agreed to meet at j's house. When j brought his car back, he held the door open as Veronica got into the back seat. As they drove to his house, Veronica said 'You are forbidden to speak for the rest of the evening. I'm very pleased this has started so well. When we get to your house, you will stay with the car while we go inside. That's all." They drove on in silence as classical music played on the IPod -- Mozart's 'Eine Kleine Tachtmusik", followed by Beethoven's Fifth.

When they got to j's house, Veronica and the ladies went in and looked all around. They were going to get familiar with it over the next few weeks as they came and went as they saw fit. For now, they loaded all the food in the house that could be moved into bags for each of them to take. Drinks were poured down the sink, and stuff that couldn't be taken was put into trash bags to be dropped in a dumpster. 

Veronica then had j come and help the women load the food into the trunk of Connie's car and j's car. They drove back to Veronica's house. When they got there, j loaded the stuff for them into Alex and Gretchen's car, and carried Connie's take into her house. The ladies bid each other farewell for now. j was ordered to kneel on the sidewalk and kiss each of the women's feet and thank them for taking time to observe his worthless person. 

As they departed, Goddess Veronica turned to j and said, "Now, scum, your new existence as my slave and property begins. I think I want to beat the soles of your feet tonight until you're screaming. Then you're going to make me dinner, begin your new diet, and my Asshole needs a good licking. Get moving." 

j crawled up the steps behind Goddess Veronica. She stepped through the door and j followed on his hands and knees. She turned and as the door closed and the lock clicked, a passerby could have heard her say, "Get those clothes off, crawl back to the dungeon and get on the table face down with your feet hanging off the table......" 

To be continued...