0 comments/ 63131 views/ 2 favorites The Bank By: renaissancebarb This is one of many stories I have written about a girl and her aunt's husband, Phil. You have come to the city to visit. My family's out of town and I don't have a car, so I call over to the house to ask for a ride home from work. I had told you to be there at 5:30, when we close, but I had some odd jobs to do b/c the other girl had to leave early, so when you arrived I was alone. You walked into the bank, surprised at the size of it -- after all, it's just a small city bank. You saw me working and I had not heard you come in, so you tiptoed through the lobby and quietly opened the teller door to surprise me. However, when you got behind the counter, I was gone. You looked around, confused as to where I could have gone in such a short time. That's when you felt the blindfold go around your eyes. "Wha...!" you cried out as the darkness took your vision. Then I grabbed your shoulders and pushed you from behind onto your knees, my mouth silent though hands weren't. Your hands came up to grab me, but I held them at the wrists and pressed them to your sides. "Don't even fucking think about it, you fucking bastard," you heard me say. You stopped fighting and your hands relaxed at your sides. You heard a rustle, then the slow aural burn of a zipper sliding slowly down. You knew I was in front of you, not just from the sound but because I was so close you could feel your hot breath bouncing off my body and back at you. You tried to speak, but I grabbed your hair and tilted your head back, as if to look at look at me. "Shut the fuck up," you heard me say, my voice low and breathy with want and excitement. You tried to shake your head in suppliance, but my hand still clutched your hair. It went through your mind that we were inside a bank, with cameras and the possibility of someone coming in at any time. Your cock, already wakened by the events preceding, rose tautly to attention, and you emitted a low growl at the sudden rush of blood. There was another series of rustles, then the distict smell of cunt in your nostrils. You leaned forward slightly, finding that your nose fit securely into my crack, and that I had somehow propped up one of my legs so that they were well spread. You felt me grab your head and press it into my dripping pussy. "Eat me, bitch," you heard me say. In no position and having no want to argue, you slipped your tongue into my slit, finding with ease what so many before you could not find at all. I remembered briefly our encounters before -- somehow you had always known exactly what I needed, exactly how to touch me or how I had to be handled. I knew, however, that because of your marriage to my aunt, you were lost to me, and for a brief moment I was consumed with sadness, despite your roving tongue and magic lips. I opened my teary eyes and looked before me, feeling again the heat of my passion, pussy lips again filling with blood, erasing all my nostalgia. My eyes dried and I was in the now again. I forced your head into me, commanding, "Help with your fingers." You oblidged, as every slave does, and I began to feel myself sliding away, into the heat and passion of my orgasm. You felt me tighten and sway, and reached to my waist to help steady me. You could now confirm that my nudity was entire, and the thought of my breasts puckering as you tongue fucked me sent you into a heady heat. You felt me arch into your enveloped fingers and you pressed further accordingly. You felt my pelvis press into you harder, the last time, then you tasted my sweet and salty release on your lips and down your throat. Suddenly, I moved away from you, your fingers left suddenly cold without my womanhood surrounding them. You bent your head to taste them, licking every drop of me off of them. I watched you with a mixture of excitement and astonishment -- I had never before met a man who really loved the taste of me. It was one of the most erotic things I had ever watched. I jerked your blindfold off, watching you blink at the sudden light, then look at my body with the eye of a predator. Suddenly, my confidence left me, and I was afraid. I turned to find my clothes, but you were on me in a second. You threw me down onto the floor and kissed me so deeply I thought I'd felt the heat in it reach my heart, all the while throwing your clothes off in seconds. You turned your attention to my breasts, biting them unmercifully -- the way I liked it. Now I couldn't stand it any longer. I needed you. "Fuck, Phil, get inside me!" You did. There was no friction -- I was so drenched with cum and spit that you slipped inside without incident. As I felt your fullness inside me, I suddenly felt my cunt pulsate around me. "PHIL!" I screamed as I tumbled into ecstasy. But you didn't stay still as I came; on the contrary, you began moving, though you hesitated at first, surprised by my easy orgasm. As I felt you move, I continued to cum, and I realized that you were pounding directly into my G-spot. No one had ever found it so easily with their cock. I was shocked into tears, begging you with my body to continue despite the wetness dripping down my cheeks. My hands searched over the planes of your back as ass, squeezing my need into the folds of your body. I stretched my neck up to kiss you and you came, our bodies connected in two places. Feeling your hot sperm spill inside me was the end. I came so hard that as I arched my back you had to plant your hands on either side of me as I lifted you up. My scream was otherworldly, communicating my release and my need of you. My fingernails drew blood, my hips drove into your legs, I found my release with you inside me, your arms around me tightly. Then I lay panting, still clinging to you and all the feelings that had been through my head. You knew me, my body, like no one else I had ever been with. As my heartbeat slowed physically, I knew it never would emotionally. Instead of speaking, though, I just held you tighter. The Bank How many times have you come to me like this? In tears, babbling about how I'm better off with someone else and you're just going to get your things and go. "You'll be better off." You keep saying. I've always played through the whole scene with you before. Kept at you, asking what was wrong and what I can do until you finally start opening up and tell me what the whole thing was really all about. This time, you've caught me in a bad mood as it already is. I've had a rough week at work, bills are rolling in, money's tight and I got a call yesterday from the bank. When you start with the tears and sobbing crap, I find that I have just had enough. I lay it out for you. I don't get paid until Friday, we've put everything into the house, you layed out cash for pretty much every little cause in town, you got hit on by a national charity – another two hundred - and on top of it, it looks like you went and spent nearly three hundred dollars at the fucking spa! To tell me this, that you realize you overdid, you bust into the whole teary eyed bullshit you always get me on and I'm apparently supposed to work on you until you feel better about fucking us up. It would be different, I tell you, if you would stick to spending your own check, but you spent mine too! You start on that "you'd be better off with someone else, I keep telling you," and the tears are pouring out. I'm flat pissed and it's really not working, though I did notice the flick of your tongue tasting the liquid running down into the corners of your mouth. You are so fucking beautiful it just makes me madder and even more that I find that flicker of tongue so tantalizing. I tell you "like it would make our situation now so much easier if you were someone else? You're so full of crap. All you're trying to do is get me off the subject." More tears and now you fall to your knees. I stamp my foot and you give a little flinch. "Like I'm going to hit you? Fuck you." I say. I can't believe how angry I am and you just feed it. We're both perfectly rational and intelligent adults and this is the most bizarre scenario I've ever had with anyone other than my father. It's not that I want to hit you, still, I just don't know anything to do that will make me feel relief and that I'm walking the path of resolution. I'm not coherent enough emotionally to reason with you. I start to tell you this and your tongue flicks out again, slower and sensuously moves around to the other corner where it slips out a little more and pulls back within your lips until just the tip is peeking through. Despite myself and my feelings and anything else rational and purposeful, Adam's rib begins to show through my trousers. Your eyes slip down to my zipper and that makes me shove against it. Immediately, they sight in on the floorboards and I feel another flash of anger that you somehow think you've got me. I tell you this: "don't even think we're just going to repeat the same bullshit cycle we've been on. I really am pissed off this time. Damn it, we've got to deal with this." I stamp my foot again and again you cringe visibly though minimally. Your skirt is hiking up your thigh as you stare now at the floor. I'm still pissed, but now I have a raging hard on forcing itself upon my priorities for appeasement. I hate that I'm this fucking easy and I stamp my foot again. This time, your cringing moves you sideways and presents one of your ass globes with the skirt at the top of the thigh/ bottom of the rounding. That does it for me. My belt rips through the loops of my pants before I have a second thought about it and I see a full shiver take your body. Your head jerks up just as I snap the leather down on the ripeness peeking out halfway under the material. It's a snapping sound and it must sting, but I hear an intake of breath from you that is normally reserved for a particularly hard thrust or a building orgasm. I'm half through another smack before I'm even aware I'm doing it and this one is just as satisfying as the last. Your ass pushes out towards me and I can see the other buttock rising off the floor. Our eyes meet as the belt comes down a third time and yours are watery, deep black pools shimmering in pearl glimmers. My cock gives such a shove against the zipper that it hurts. I bend over slightly and moan as the leather smacks down across both buttocks in a wholly delicious merging of motion and sound. Your ass contracts, then gives a delectable wiggle that makes my cock leap so hard I double over again. "Fuck". Escapes my lips. "Fuck." Our eyes meet again, your pools of darkness drawing me in and down and through. "Please." You whimper. Such a tiny delight of sussurance. My cock won't let me straighten and I frantically unbutton my slacks, gasping at the relief. You are at it so quickly I'm shocked. "It's going to take a hell of a lot more than a blow job." I say. This is weak and I recognize it. To punctuate the feeling behind the words, I give you another whip. As the leather hits flesh (I'm still astounded at how satisfying I find the sound and feel together with your gasp), my cock jolts so forcefully in your mouth you gag slightly. "Don't even." I say. "If this is your penance then you need to take it willingly and without reservation." For me, it sounds like something I might tell a child. I don't really like that mixing in my mind but my penis seems to find no end of pleasure in the visage. The leather is singing toward your ass before I have a conscious thought toward another or how many I'll be giving you and this time it finds itself delivering the tip directly between your cheeks and onto your swollen lips. You push your mouth hard against the base of me and moan a vibration that rips electricity from the soles of my feet, through my spine, pulls and connects my balls with my throat and shoots cum beyond the back of your tonsils. My whole body rocks and shakes as I feel the jolts pound and take me one after the other. My knees feel like they are going to buckle and for some reason even my calves are shakey. My cock, however, remains hard and gives little jerks as your tongue soothes and cleans it in cat nips. As you tip and tease the underside it bucks and waves. Your mouth moves to my swollen balls as I notice a pooling at your knees. A spot on the hardwood floors spanning the distance between your open thighs and reaching back to your shins. I reach out with one hand and seize a handful of hair, pulling your mouth off my balls and moving your head out away from me. The belt snaps out again to land on the near mound followed immediately by my hand smacking down on the far mound. As my hand lands, it bunches and grabs a fullness of muscle, pushing up and away. The other hand drops the belt and performs the same maneuver opening you fully for my cock to spear you completely in one hard fast thrust. I can feel you cum then, before even the second stroke slams home, you are shaking and moaning as much or more than I've ever felt from you. As it grows and moves into another and another, I slam home fifteen or twenty – or maybe twenty five solid forceful shoves. They bury into you so deeply and absolutely that I can feel your pussy lips open and grasping at my balls as they draw up to blow another load. This time I do collapse. If I could find any voice at all it would be useless for conversation so it's all the better that your eyes are closed and you're buried into the floor breathing in huge gasps and out keening whimpers. Each round of this gives me a little thrill in my nether region that tells me we will soon be taking this upstairs and into overtime. I guess this means you are off the hook and I'm debating telling you that when the bank called they set us up with a minimal interest home equity loan we can pull from as we need and replace with the surpluses we get as my bonuses and your commissions come in. No harm, no foul and all's well if your end's well. The Bank Hi Folks, As I warned you last week. This is a very long story. Most of you told me you'd rather see the whole thing in one piece so here it is. Of course you can always stop reading it anytime you want. Thanks as usual to the great mikothebaby for editing this story (she had to read the whole thing more than once). I apologize for any of the content here that bothers some of you. Please remember it's only a story.SS06 * * * * * * It always seems like life has plans of its own for us and what we want or what we hope for aren't always what we end up with. How does that expression go...Man plans, God laughs? I guess my life is kind of like that. I thought I had everything planned out, but now I'm heading down life's road in a completely different direction. My name is Lucas Blue. I live in one of those up and coming small towns that you hear about so often now in the newspapers and on the net. My town, Lewiston, Michigan has been growing by leaps and bounds. It's small enough that almost everyone here knows someone who knows everybody else, but big enough that no one knows everybody by name. The great thing about these medium sized up and coming cities is that they combine the small town friendliness, charm and lack of things like crime with the amenities and connectedness of the big cities. I already know what you're thinking. "That sounds good but I don't know shit about farming." Well neither do I. This isn't the twentieth century anymore. Remember how back in the old west Sam Colt made all men or most men equal? Well the internet has done the same thing in our time. I went to college at the University of Michigan (go Blue) and decided a long time ago that living in a larger city like Detroit or Chicago just wasn't for me. I wanted to settle down in a place where I could meet the girl of my dreams and we could raise our children in the kind of environment that turns them into good solid citizens. Once again, that was the plan. Now I find myself devoid and bereft of any of the values I eschewed. I am a cold blooded murderer and I'm sitting here waiting for a police officer who's already on the way over here to arrest me. The only thing I can say in my defense is that some motherfuckers just have it coming. Remember the girl of my dreams? Right now I can't stand the bitch. Our divorce is already winding its way through the court system. There are a few complications that will leave me tied to her for the next couple of months or so, but no longer. Since I'll probably be spending most of that time in jail, it really doesn't matter. How did I go so wrong in my life you're probably wondering, right? Well, let me tell you about it. It all started a few months ago at our town's Fourth of July celebration. My wife, Angela, and I hardly ever get to hang out in town much. We met in college. I was there working on a degree in manufacturing and she was in finance. We were the typical fringe students. Both of us were just attractive enough to do well with the opposite sex but not attractive enough to go into modeling or anything. Both of us were also very into our careers but not good enough to set the world on fire. What I thought that we were both good at though, was each other. We had literally everything in common. We liked the same foods, the same TV shows and we had similar goals in life. Neither of us wanted to be rich or to waste our lives aimlessly pursuing wealth or fame. We both just wanted to be comfortable. We also both believed that family and relationships took precedence over careers. We graduated and settled down here in Lewiston and started building a life. We bought a small farm and quickly leased out the fields to a local farming co-op. We only bought the farm for the buildings. I got a small business loan and renovated the barn. I also bought a couple of HAAS CNC machines. I wasn't a manufacturing genius, but then I didn't have to be. I do small orders of very simple parts and market them through an ebay store. I specialize in knock off parts. So, if a company is copying someone else's idea and needs a quick source for a certain type of bushing or plate, they send me the print or an M&G code program and I run their parts. I ship them out through UPS and it's on to the next order. My business is booming. I also market other parts through ebay as well. Almost any simple item that can be made on a lathe or a mill is up for grabs. I have several different internet stores that sell items as diverse as hot rodding parts for cars to Chinese throwing stars. I make them all in my converted barn. The coolest thing about my business is that I can set my own hours and I rarely have anyone breathing down my neck. I also make a more than decent living. Angela works at the local bank as an assistant manager. I pity her. She has to be up every day at a certain time and she does everything there that is too difficult for the tellers or that the manager doesn't feel like doing. She has to take all of the flack and gets none of the credit. I guess some of the time she likes her job and others she just hates it. Lately, we'd been in one of those times when she loved it. She was going in early and staying late. She told me that the manager had been on vacation and they were training some new people. I didn't understand what was so great about it until she explained to me that it gave her a chance to train them the way she wanted to. And it gave the bank's parent company a chance to look at the kind of manager she'd make. So, if Sam ever retired or there was a new branch set up in our town or a nearby town, she'd be on their list. I reminded her that in a few years SHE'D be retiring for the next phase of HER career. She laughed and told me that she was looking forward to getting her PhD in SAHM. SAHM stands for stay at home mom. So anyway, we were at the Fourth of July celebration hanging out in town and having fun. I'd decided to enter the Declaration Drag. It was one of those small town events that had two purposes. The first one was to have fun and blow off some steam. The second one was to cut down on the mischief in town. The next town over had one of those 5K footraces. We had the double D. The Declaration Drag was basically a "run what you brung," drag race. Everyone in town who wanted to show off what their car could do lined up and raced two blocks through the heart of the city. Last year Tyler Stevens won it in his Dodge challenger. Charlie Green had bought one of those LS Camaros last fall and thought he had a good chance of winning this year. I hated to break his heart but it wasn't going to happen. The police department, all four of them, were usually at the race. It was smart business. They handled the registration of all of the cars. That way, for the rest of the year, if anyone was seen speeding or driving recklessly, all a witness had to do was to either describe or take a picture of the car and the police immediately knew whose car it was and where to send the ticket. Usually only 32 cars could enter the race. If there were more they turned it into a two day event. If there were less than 32, then drivers who placed higher the year before could be allowed to bypass certain rounds. This was my first year so I had to do all of the rounds. I was sitting there near the starting line in my almost new Mustang Boss 302. I looked over in the crowd to find Angela and noticed that she was talking to some guy I'd never seen before. She was also smiling at him and they were very close together. For some reason seeing it made the hair on my neck standup. Since it wasn't my turn to race, I was going to go over to them and find out who he was but I never got the chance. Someone tapped on my window. I turned away from watching Angie and my frown faded. There was a woman looking into my car. I rolled down the window and took a better look at her. She was tiny but well proportioned. I shook my head several times to clear my eyes and looked at her again. She couldn't have been more than five feet even and that would be early in the morning on a good day. She had those crystal clear pale gray eyes that seem other worldly. She had inky black hair that was cut short. It was one of those haircuts that always seem to be falling in her face. One side was cut longer than the other. The shorter side she tucked or pinned behind one ear, but the longer side was forever falling in her face so she was constantly brushing it out of her eyes. She was wearing a light blue denim shirt that was having a hard time containing a truly impressive pair of boobs. She was holding onto a clip board and looking in through the window at me. "What's your name?" she asked me very slowly. "It won't do you any good," I said, wondering why the hell I'd never seen her around town. I mean the town just isn't big enough for her to have gone unnoticed. "Why won't it?" she asked sassily. "Because, I'm married," I said sadly. "And I'd never cheat on my wife no matter how gorgeous you are." She got the funniest smile on her face then and pointed straight down at her belt. At first I thought she was trying to get me to notice her ass until I saw the big gold Sheriff's badge on the belt. "Let's try this again," she said. "What if I tell you my name first? It's officer. As in I work for the police dept. That's why they call me Officer Tanya Bradley. I'm the fuzz. Some of you guys call us bacon or pigs. Do you understand the situation now, or do we need more clarification?" I heard her mutter under her breath, "The cute ones are always so stupid." I smiled at her again. "Nope, no further clarification is necessary. You had me at officer. It was my mistake and one I'll never make again. What can I do for you officer?" "You can tell me your name and tell me about your car," she said smiling. I didn't return the smile. "My name is Lucas Aaron Blue, Ma'am," I said. "My car is a 2012 Ford Mustang 302 Boss." "How much horsepower?" she asked. "Before, or after the modifications, Ma'am?" I asked. "What's it running now?" she asked. "Roughly six hundred and fifty horsepower Ma'am," I said. "But I don't have any speeding tickets here in town, Ma'am." "Why are you telling me that?" she asked. As she looked at me, she smiled again and all of that hair fell in front of her face. "You know," she said. "You can pull that stick out of your ass. We got off on the wrong foot but there's no need to be so formal. Can we start over again? Maybe this is my fault. I'm not here to try to arrest you or anything like that. The police department handles the race registration. I'm going up and down the line of cars getting information on the cars, okay?" I nodded and said, "Yes Ma'am." "I guess I'm not gorgeous any more, since I'm a cop, right?" she asked. "Just the facts Ma'am," I said. She smiled at me again. She bit her lip and looked at me. So much passed between us in that look and I think we both realized it. Then the moment was lost as we both came to our senses and realized that this could never go anywhere. As she turned to walk away, she paused and looked over her shoulder at me. Flipping her hair out of those astounding eyes one more time she threw a haughty, "Good luck!" at me and headed for the next car in line. Watching her walk away from me, I had an epiphany. Man has been on this planet for either millions of years slowly evolving, if you favor the scientific approach or for a little over two thousand years if you believe in biblical accounts. It has taken all of that time to get women right. It used to be that women came in three flavors, fat, skinny and in between. Back in the eighties, we discovered variations on each theme. There were pears, pegs and apples evolved to fill out the varieties. We also gave rise to the BBW, the SSBBW, the MILF and the GILF. But lately everywhere I turn, I'm simply astounded by the differing shapes of women. Officer Tanya Bradley was incredible. At barely five feet tall she simply defied description. She had a medium frame, meaning she wasn't fat, but she also wasn't skinny. Under normal expectations she'd have decent to smallish breasts and nice legs. But she didn't have any of those things. Her breasts strained the shirt she was wearing and her ass fit those jeans like she had a half of a basketball filled with Jell-o at the top of each leg. Her waist was wasp-like and roared outwards as it descended. She had the most hourglass-like torso I've ever seen. The legs that supported the whole thing were just as incredible. Her jeans were rolled up to the top of her calf and she had the shapeliest calves I've ever seen. I could only imagine what her thighs looked like. Even her face was unusual. She didn't have classically beautiful features. Her eyes were probably too pale a shade of gray to be considered beautiful. From the right angle they were so exotic she'd look like a vampire or something. But they fit her. Her nose was too wide and her lips were a bit too plump. And please don't get me started on that fucking hair. She had to adjust it every fifteen seconds at least. I can sit here and tell you everything that's wrong with her. Shit, I could make a list. I'd have to admit things like in a few years when she gets older and her metabolism slows, her stomach is going to catch up to those boobs and that big butt and she's going to be a blob. I could also say that since her facial features are too strong if she ever changed that hair style she wouldn't be nearly as pretty. But the fact remains that all of it is Bullshit. Tanya Bradley is hands down the sexiest woman I've ever seen, which is probably why I sat there in my car and forgot that I'd seen my wife smiling at another man while I watched Officer Bradley go from car to car until my race started. I knew that I'd probably have to race 5 times. At least I would if I didn't lose. My first round opponent was some guy who wore a fucking mullet. He drove what looked like a late seventies Monte Carlo. It was a beautiful car but it didn't belong in a race. Neither did he. He was so busy staring at the cheerleader who waved the flag to start the race that I was gone before he even put his foot on the gas. My next round was against a nerd type in one of those little Japanese imports. He'd obviously seen all of the fast and the furious movies twice. I could tell by his paint job. I think he had a two stage nitrous system in the car. Unfortunately, by the time he got to his second stage and started really moving, the race was over. He must have been going two hundred miles an hour when he crossed the line, but it didn't matter because I got there first. Angela was waving at me by that time. She came over to try to talk to me but I just shook my head at her. The more I thought about her smiling at that guy, the more pissed I got. I could have spent time smiling and talking to that cute cop but the first thing I'd told her was that I was married. Not that she was interested in me anyway, but I'd told her. That was all Angie had to do too. She just needed to tell me. If she was tired of being married to me, we could take care of that pretty easily. Anyway, there was no use letting her get into my head until the races were over so I just stayed in the car. But I fully intended to have a talk with her when I was done. * * * * * * Jerry My life just never got any better. Where was I? Was I in Vegas? Fuck no! Was I in LA? Again no. Was I even back in the rotten Apple? Nope, I was stuck in some one horse backwater that barely had the balls to call itself a city. We'd been here for about four weeks now and I was eager to get the fuck out of here. There was nothing to do, unless you were into that whole wholesome family entertainment thing. Today was the first thing I'd seen here that had actually caught my interest and I had to work. A couple of associates and I were on a tour of small towns. We'd stay in each town for a month or so, making sure we weren't seen with each other. We'd each handle our specialties and then we'd get together, rob the bank and get the hell out of dodge. Arnie, an old friend of mine, had brought me into the group for two reasons. One was my looks and ability to schmooze people, especially women. The second was my ability to drive. In a small crew like ours, each member had to be very good at what they did. There was no room for incompetence because there was no overlapping of skills. It wasn't a case where two or three guys would be doing the same thing. That made it difficult sometimes but on the other hand we only had to split the profits three ways. My job was to go in and scout the bank. I'd find out as much as possible about the bank, its employees and their procedures. I also had to scout out the best possible routes out of town and have several cars ready for any possible exit strategy. While doing this, I also had to lay low to make sure that no one would remember ever having seen me. Arnie would gather information about the local police force. Like how many of them there were, their backgrounds and the way they responded to things, etc. Darren was our electronics Wiz. He'd disable alarm systems and actually block radio frequencies which would prevent the local bacon from being able to co-ordinate their efforts. I'd been working on the assistant manager at the bank for about three weeks. Her name was Angela Blue, doesn't that sound like she ought to be doing porn? Anyway, if you want to know what Angela blew lately, I can proudly say, me. Angela is your typical small town housewife. It took me a little while, but not as long as you'd think to get into her panties. The first day she was giving all of the typical bullshit about how much she loved her husband. But before you knew it she was flat on her back slinging her pussy at me like there was no tomorrow. All I had to do was listen to her and tell her what she wanted to hear. It's simply too easy to do, especially to the types that really do love their husbands. There are simply no perfect relationships. Angela started out with 'I love him so much', but by the end of the conversation she was telling me all the things she wished he'd realize. Like the fact that the guy really loved her, but he was too stuck on this plan they'd made before they even got married. They wanted to wait until they reached a certain age to get pregnant. And Angela hated her fucking job with a passion. She wanted to quit then. The manager was playing around on his wife with a couple of the tellers who didn't know about each other. To calm things down, he was taking some time off until he could get rid of one of them. It didn't matter whether he was there or not, she did all of the fucking work and she was tired of it. There was no way he'd ever retire, so she had risen as far in that bank as she ever would. The town was so small there was only one bank. She was also the only person in the entire bank who'd gone to college, let alone had a degree in finance. It was embarrassing. Her four year college education got her a dollar an hour more than the tellers who were mostly high school graduates, or drop outs. The two who were fucking the manager actually got unspecified bonuses in their checks every week, which meant that they earned more than she did. She felt like a fucking baby sitter more than anything else. Her husband just didn't realize how much she hated working at the fucking bank. He made a lot more money than she did and he never had to leave the house. He'd paid back his small business loan in less time than the loan term and was banking more money than they'd ever need. He'd also paid off the farm so that it was free and clear and was actually making even more money leasing out their field since all he really needed was the barn that he'd turned into some kind of high tech machine shop. He also had room in that big ass barn for a small but well outfitted gym and a garage for the Mustang he'd bought recently. He still kept his former car, another Mustang, but the Boss was his pride and joy. The Bank What she really wanted to do was to go to her husband and say, "Look Honey, I'm tired of the bank. I want to quit." But she didn't know how he'd take it. I found all of that out the first afternoon I spent with her. I'd walked into the bank and started giving her the story about being an advance man for a movie company that was interested in shooting a film in her town. I told her I'd probably at some point want to make several large deposits and establish a line of credit. I needed someone in town to help me scout locations and get the lay of the land. In typical small town friendliness, which really meant that she was so fucking bored she'd probably try peeing on her own shoes just for something different, she volunteered. I started telling her how pretty she was. She's okay looking but not really pretty. Her husband probably used to tell her all the time that she was pretty, but had stopped because he was sure she knew he thought so by now. Then again, six or seven year ago she probably was pretty, but had simply withered on the vine. So my flattery went a long way. I backed up the flattery by accidentally bumping into her whenever I could, to get her used to me touching her. Then I started just looking at her longingly. After a while she got the idea and started blushing. I backed that up by innocently mentioning that I thought her husband was a fool. If I was married to her she'd already be pregnant and we'd be homeless because I'd never go to work. There was no way we'd ever get out of bed. A few touches here and there that were initially apologized for led to me copping a feel here and there. Those feels became normal and led to that first kiss. From then on, there was no turning back and now the bitch acts like my dick is hers. I know realistically that the only thing I have going for me is the newness of the experience and in time she'll realize that I don't give a flying fuck about her, but by then all of the bank's money will be gone and me with it. If she's smart she'll keep her mouth closed, stay married and spend a few months making it up to her husband and no one will lose anything. She'll even have a nice fantasy to remember in her old age. I wonder if she'll ever know how much I hate having sex with her. I mean pussy is pussy, but sex is an art form. It's like any other sport, some of us do it for the love of the game, and others do it for money. When you love the person you're fucking and they love you, it can be a wonderful experience. There are simply no right or wrong moves you can make because you're doing it to please your partner and they have the same goal in mind. Your body's reactions are triggered and influenced by the emotions you feel for that person and the happiness you want to share with them. Her husband probably loves the shit out of this bitch because she's awful in bed. She's one of those small town almost cute bitches, who think that fucking her is the highest honor that can be bestowed on any man. In other words, she pretty much just lays there and takes it. Occasionally, she whimpers out a tiny little "ooh," or two. I almost fall asleep fucking her now. The only difference between her and one of those new high tech blow-up dolls is that she has a pulse. After it's over, she looks at you with that expression on her face like she's just done something so great for you that you owe her your devotion for the rest of your fucking life. I don't think so Angela. It's not even fucking her that's the worst part. It's just looking at her naked. Angela has nice legs, they're a little on the thin side like those fashion models, but that's it. Those legs lead up to her small-town booty. There isn't an extra ounce of fat on her ass anywhere. It's the kind of ass that women think they want and men hate. Her ass is merely something to sit on, nothing more. There is so little curvature in her ass that the line from her lower back to her upper thighs is nearly unbroken. Her stomach is flat but there is a slight pouch starting to form. But it isn't sexy. Even the fat girls with their bulging tummies have certain sexiness to it. I think it comes from the bulge creating a counter point to their rounded hips on the other side. It gives their bodies that "S" shape that seems to symbolize fertility and makes males just want to implant their seed. Hers seems to say that your seed will just be wasted because anything in her womb will wither on the vine. I later found out that I was wrong about that. Her breasts seem okay when you see her in clothes. They fill out the tops of her dresses but that has to be due to her bras. When you see her naked she does have breasts but they're banana titties. For those of you who don't know what that means, her breasts are longer rather than fuller and they hang down to nipples that are pointed. Her breasts also are very thin so if you look at her from the front it seems like they don't extend past the sides of her body at all. You can actually see space between her breasts and her arms. It's not sexy at all, unless you happen to love her and of course, I don't. So anyway, here I am trying to blend into the crowd and enjoy myself at something called the Declaration Drag. I just don't get these fucking yokels sometimes. Did they think the founding fathers had drag races down the middle of the fucking street? At any rate, it looked kind of cool. If things were normal and I wasn't working, I'd have probably wanted to steal a car and get in on it. I looked over all of the cars to see if I could predict who'd win each race and also who I thought might win the whole thing. It was a tough decision because there were so many great cars. Who'd a thunk they had this many cool ass cars in this town? I saw a Chevelle SS that I'd have killed someone for. A Nissan 350 Z that was just beautiful, was lined up to race a Brand spanking new 2012 Dodge Charger SRT that still had the dealer's sticker in the window. There were great cars all over everywhere. Just as I was really getting into it, I heard a voice beside me. "My husband is probably going to win this," she said. I looked down and there was old banana tits herself, smiling at me like the cat that just ate the canary. I went into acting mode pretending that seeing her had just made my fucking day. I steadied my stomach by reminding myself that in only a few days I'd be out of here and I'd never have to look at this bitch again. I knew that seeing me, here in the middle of all of these people who knew her but didn't know about our relationship, was turning the bitch on. It was the thrill of possible exposure that was whetting her juices. I looked over to where she was pointing and saw a decent looking guy sitting in an outrageous Mustang. It had a custom lime green paint job. I'd never seen one of those new Boss 302s in that color. As he revved the engine, I could tell that the car was nowhere near stock. The car was almost shaking from the engine vibrations. Then I noticed the hot little Betty he was talking to. She was my type of girl. That made two things in this town that I actually wanted. The first was some time with that hot little woman and the second was banana tits' husband's Mustang. His performance in the race only served to underscore two things for me. The first was that I wanted that fucking car. And the second was that banana tits is married to a sucker. He made short work of his opponents in the first three rounds. His third round victory over a guy in one of those new Chargers was especially sweet, but I almost missed it. Banana tits, while looking at the race made a grab for my dick as the race started. As I said, she thinks it's hers. His semi-final was very close though he was the winner. He raced another Mustang and only eked out the victory over the last few yards. The final was set. Hubby's beast of a Mustang was matched against a bright orange Camaro LS1. I already knew what would happen. From talking to Ban...I mean Angela, I knew that her hubby's Stang was putting out somewhere north of 600 horsepower. From doing my homework, I also knew that the Camaro put out closer to 450 and the Mustang weighed over 200 pounds less. Unless Hubby had the reflexes of a snail, it shouldn't even be close. At least it would be a good show for the kids, I thought. And I wasn't fucking wrong either. It WAS a good show for the kids. The two brightly colored latest generation, (which meant making them look like they did thirty years ago) muscle cars revved their engines and flexed their technical muscles. A little blond cheerleader waved a flag and jumped up into the air as both cars let out a roar that sounded like an enraged beast. The Mustang rocketed away from the line, the Camaro started and then sputtered as its owner, overcome by nerves missed a shift and stalled the car. Halfway down the street the Mustang skidded to a stop. The driver got out and waved at the crowd. I thought he was flaunting his victory. He got back into his car and backed up all the way down the street stopping near the Camaro. I was laughing my ass off because I thought he was giving the guy the finger or something. Then I heard the announcer say that the drivers had decided to have a "do over." I was aghast. That's not the way racing works. There aren't any fucking, "do overs." What a loser, I thought. This guy has read one too many comic books. The crowd loved him though. Even the people around us were patting Angela on her shoulders and telling her what a good guy her husband was. I did notice then that the stupid bitch who only seconds ago had been sneaking feels of my dick had moved away from me. Fuck her, I thought. Then I remembered that I already had. Angela was so busy nodding her head and talking about her husband to people in the crowd that she apparently didn't notice that hot little woman with the clip board smiling at him too. I know women and that woman wanted Angela's husband and badly. The entire crowd was watching as the two drivers reset their vehicles. Apparently, I was the only person there who was pissed. I was still running that shit over in my mind. I'd seen all kinds of fucking racing but I had never seen anyone do a God damned "do over." The cheerleader waved the flag and they took off. Hubby had a little too much wheel spin and the Camaro lurched ahead. At the halfway mark the Camaro was just a bit ahead; the entire crowd uttered an "Ohhhh!" at the same time. I was probably alone in thinking, "okay dumbass, that's what you get." Then the pony car just surged ahead and by the time they crossed the line he was well ahead of the Camaro. Both drivers got out and shook hands. They raised their hands together and that fucking crowd went wild. I'd made arrangements to see old banana tits tomorrow, but for now it was clear that she'd rather be with him. Not that I minded, she'd be back sucking my dick again sooner rather than later. It also gave me a chance to find out who the hell that woman with the black hair was. * * * * * * Angela Seeing Jerry in the crowd was a surprise. At first, I'd decided that I should avoid him. After all, anyone could have seen us together and maybe remembered that they'd seen us together some other time as well. After a few moments though, lust won out over decorum and I had to just go over to him. I don't know why I let things with him get as far as they had. I love Lucas with all of my heart. Maybe it was just that I'd gotten so bored with this town. Of course, it could also have been the fact that I simply hate my job. I feel like such a fool there. I mean I busted my ass in college for four years to get a degree that cost my parents and me over a hundred thousand dollars. And what kind of job did it get me? I make one fucking dollar per hour more than four high-school graduates and one high school drop out. The saddest thing about it is that when you look at our checks, because of certain unspecified bonuses, the high-school drop-out makes the most. I spend all day checking over their figures and correcting their mistakes. I even get sent out to run errands and anything else that no one else wants to do. So in January, in the middle of the biggest snowstorm in history when the manager decides to boost the morale of the staff, I'm the one who has to go out in the storm to bring back coffee and donuts for these fucking sluts. And to add insult to injury, he never even asked if I wanted anything. It was insulting. Jerry coming to town recently was the only thing that kept me from quitting. After his company got here, made their movie and left, I was quitting the bank. For now though, Jerry made my job worth it. I did feel a little bit guilty about what I did with him, but it was so exciting and years from now it would never matter. I'd also made a solemn promise that when he left town I'd never cheat on Lucas again. Besides, Lucas got all of the sex that he could handle from me anyway. I had never once refused him. So it wasn't like he was losing anything. As he watched the cars getting set up for the races, I edged my way closer to him and then when he wasn't expecting it, spoke to him. "My husband is probably going to win this," I said. That way if anyone around us was actually listening, they'd only hear me talking about Lucas. Jerry turned and hit me with that beautiful smile of his. He said something about the cars that I wasn't paying any attention to. Actually my attention was on moving closer to him and during the commotion caused by the cars, I grabbed a quick feel of his male anatomy. Actually, Lucas was bigger, in terms of endowment, but Jerry was just wilder in bed. He made me do things and enjoy them that my husband would never think of. Then they got to the last race and I noticed that everyone was patting me on the back. Apparently, Lucas had done something great, I hadn't noticed. I moved away from Jerry but he knew that we'd see each other tomorrow on my lunch hour. Lucas won the race much as I'd expected. I ran over to him with the rest of the crowd. He saw me and turned away from me. It actually hurt me. I'd never done anything to hurt him so I wondered what the hell was wrong with him. I didn't find out until we got home that night. "Who was that guy you were smiling at during the race?" he asked me point blank. At first I was at a loss for words. I hadn't even realized that Lucas had seen me with Jerry. "That was Jerry," I said. "I know him from work." I really didn't like the look Lucas had on his face. "Are you jealous?" I asked smiling. "You are, aren't you?" I started laughing so hard I almost couldn't stand up. "Honey, Jerry's company is going to make a movie of some kind here in town. He's setting up a line of credit with the bank. I'm the only person he knows in town so he said hi to me while he was at the race. You're the only person around here that I'm married to." "Jerry wouldn't even look at me twice," I said. "He can hang around with all of those actress types. Why the hell would he be interested in an old, married, housewife?" As I made dinner for the two of us, I noticed that the trophy Lucas had gotten from the race was on the back porch. In typical fashion, he'd won the thing but didn't really care what happened to it. For Lucas, the event itself was the thrill. He wasn't into trophies or any kind of accolades. After dinner we watched TV for a while and I tried to get Lucas to come up to bed with me. That was my normal pattern. I'd have sex with Lucas the night before I met Jerry. That way, my husband was the one getting his sex first. Jerry would be the one who got seconds whether sloppy or not. Plus, that way if things got a little wild with Jerry, I could always simply tell Lucas that he had worn me out the night before. What was unusual was that for the first time since we'd known each other, Lucas told me that he wasn't in the mood. Since when did he have moods? I don't think he sensed anything concrete but Lucas was fairly intuitive. I was sure that if I gave him any reason at all he'd start snooping around and this town simply wasn't big enough to hide anything. I decided right then and there that I'd have to call things off with Jerry. I'd miss him but after all he was only a fling. It would have run its course sooner or later anyway. But Lucas was the man I loved. I couldn't lose him for anything. It made me start thinking about what I'd been doing and how wrong it was. I knew I'd have to stop, but it was also wrong to give your word and then go back on it. I'd promised Jerry that I'd meet him tomorrow and I knew what was going to happen. I decided that tomorrow would be the last time. And if Lucas got out of his funk and decided he wanted me tomorrow, then I'd be the one who wasn't in the mood. The next morning I woke up and got dressed. As usual on a day that I was going to see Jerry, I wore a skirt. Beside the fact that my legs were my best feature, it would give him quick and easy access. Since the skirt was a long one I didn't even bother putting on panties. My fling with Jerry had actually never been about sex for me. The actual copulation was okay but for me it had been more about the way he made me feel. He made me feel like I was a part of something other than this God damned town. He made me feel like I had a secret that those stupid high school whores I worked with didn't know anything about. He also made me feel wanted and lusted after. He made me feel like I was just as sexy as those young sluts, only better. I was better because the person other than my husband who lusted after me wasn't some 55 year old bank manager with a bald head and a pot belly. I realized that morning that giving Jerry up might be harder than I'd thought. I kissed my sleeping husband goodbye or tried to anyway. He seemed to roll over just before my lips touched him. I was sure that it was intentional and that he was still pissed off at me about his suspicions. In a way, I thought it was cute. Lucas being jealous and acting like a love sick school boy only served to underscore how devoted he was to me even after all of this time. On the other hand, if he didn't feel like kissing me, I knew someone who did and Lucas acting stupid just left more kisses for him. I drove into town and parked in my usual spot behind the bank. I opened up the bank and went inside. Once inside, I locked the door behind me since we wouldn't open until nine a.m. I started the coffee pot and checked over yesterday's figures again. Seeing the numbers again with fresh eyes would make sure that I hadn't missed anything. I poured myself a cup of coffee and thought again about my situation and how it had changed over the past few weeks. Three weeks ago, closer to a month ago actually, the only thing I'd wanted was to quit this fucking job. Now I looked forward to coming in on certain days of the week. A month ago I'd been trying to work up the courage to tell Lucas that I wanted to alter our plans. I still wanted the same end goals that we'd always shared; I'd just wanted to speed up the timetable. I was ready to quit working then and start making our babies. Was I really ready to be a mom or was I just so God damned tired of the bank that I'd seen that as the way out? I certainly didn't feel like mom material sitting here with my pussy already wet thinking about what Jerry was going to do to it. Maybe what Jerry had just done was to show me that I really wasn't meant for this town. All of the places he talked about seemed so exciting, maybe that was the life I was supposed to have. Lucas could set up his business and be successful at it anywhere. Why did we have to stay here? We really didn't. The only reason we were here was because we wanted to bring our kids up in a safe environment. There were pockets of safety in every city if you could afford them. Lucas made very good money so we could afford to live wherever we wanted. The Bank In fact, that was another thing I needed to talk to him about. When we first moved here, Lucas and I had compromised on our finances and a few other things. We'd disagreed about a lot of things. I wanted a house in town. Lucas wanted the farm. I needed to pay off the rest of my student loans and the money my parents had given me. Lucas wanted to buy the farm and take out a small business loan. We couldn't agree on anything and as much as I hated to admit it, Lucas had been right. I hadn't wanted to be saddled with any more debt. So Lucas had bought the farm and taken out his loan alone. Though I lived on the farm with him, it was in his name only. Lucas had also never incorporated or registered formally as a business. Basically he was the business. He paid taxes on everything he did and he had an accountant in town to help him with that. I'd offered to on several occasions, but I think that Lucas still resented the fact that I hadn't sided with him from the beginning. I wish to God that I had now because if we'd split everything down the middle like most married couples, we'd have paid off my loans years ago. As it was, I struggled to make the minimum payment each month. I was brought out of my thoughts by the tapping on the door. I got up and opened the door for Ted Granger our security guard. He smiled at me and told me good morning. "You look nice, Angela," he told me. It was the same thing every fucking day. I never looked hot or pretty or sexy. I just looked nice. God damn it Ted, I thought. A fucking 8 year old looks nice. A four hundred pound sixty five year old woman can look nice. You aren't lifting my spirits at all. "Thanks Ted," I replied. Ted went off to do his jobs including opening the vault which he'd need my help and my key to do. We'd do that just before we opened as usual. That way anyone with a safe deposit box could get access to it during the day. By nine o' clock all of the tellers were at their windows and we'd opened the doors. The bank was a flurry of activity since most of the usual businesses made their weekend deposits on Monday morning before they opened. This weekend had been busier than usual since Friday had been the day we'd celebrated the Fourth of July. It had seemed strange to me since normally all of those Holidays were celebrated on a Monday. But this year the fourth had actually fallen on a Friday. I smiled at most of the customers and constantly looked around the bank to make sure that I wasn't needed for anything. I knew that I wouldn't be. Things were so boring in this town that watching grass grow was exciting. At eleven forty five, I crossed the bank and spoke to Marge Blair. She'd been working at the bank for so long it seemed like she'd always been there. She'd been the one who trained me. She looked up as I approached and smiled. "I already know," the old lady said sweetly. "You're going home to have, "Lunch," with your husband. I'll see you when you get back." "Maybe you should have that cute husband of yours come here for lunch every once in a while," interjected Mary Clark. She smiled at me too, only her smile and words got a different reaction from me. I got pissed. Mary was one of the tellers who were fucking the manager. She was a step above being the town slut. She was only twenty two, with long blond hair and big fake boobs. I was not happy about her taking an interest in Lucas. "Ooh that would be nice," chimed in another teller. That just fucked up my morning, all of these stupid women that I couldn't stand, talking about how cute my husband was. I figured that the sudden interest was probably stemming from yesterday's race. I just smiled and nodded and left. I got into my car and drove away from the bank but I didn't drive home. I drove to the Stafford motel on the other side of town. When I got to the motel, I was already excited, but I had a weird feeling as well. Maybe it was those stupid bitches back at the bank making me feel guilty. I tried to banish those thoughts from my head by reminding myself that Lucas had been the one who turned me down last night. I therefore had a right to go out and find what I needed somewhere else. In the back of my mind I wondered how I'd feel if he did that and suddenly I was pissed off all over again. Did what I was doing give him the right to do it too? The door opened and Jerry grabbed my hand and dragged me inside. As forceful as he was being, I could tell that he was excited too. As soon as I got into the room, he started kissing me. "So how are things going at work today?" he asked. That was another great thing about Jerry he always asked me about the bank and my day. He didn't ask me about Lucas or his stupid car. He didn't ask about the fucking race. He was interested in ME. He asked me all about the bank and the armored car as he rubbed my tits, I was on fire. But it just felt weird for some reason. I pulled Jerry's pants down and attacked his limp dick. That was strange too. Lucas was always ready for me. I had to play with Jerry and suck his dick to get him excited. That had always seemed strange to me but I chalked it up to differences among men. As I started sucking on Jerry's dick, I just felt strange. It wasn't anything physical, it was just that nagging feeling you get, like when you forget something. After a few moments Jerry pulled me onto the bed. He lined himself up between my spread legs and just impaled me. As usual Jerry just humped away at me quickly. I hadn't even bothered to take my clothes off. I'd just pulled my skirt up and we went at it. As soon as he was done he was back on his feet and looking at his watch. That was just like Jerry, he was always thinking about my schedule and what time I had to be back at work. "Shhh," he said, as he crossed the room to go to the door. Jerry had a habit of looking out through the door to make sure no one saw me coming from his room. I'd seen him do it lots of times but it was still funny to me. He acted like we were in some kind of spy movie or something. All of the previous times though hadn't prepared me for this one. As soon as the door opened, I heard a sound like something smacking into something else. Jerry flew backwards into the room. I was still lying there on his bed trying to use a napkin to clean myself off. I looked up in shock and saw my husband standing over Jerry who was cowering on the floor. Lucas kicked Jerry so hard that Jerry's entire body moved, and then he looked at me and shook his head. Lucas didn't say a word. He just turned and spat on Jerry and then left. I jumped up and ran out of the room screaming for Lucas to come back, but he kept walking. People on the street were looking at us so I turned around and went back to Jerry's room. Jerry was still on the floor groaning in pain. His nose was swollen and twisted to the side. It looked like it was broken. "Jerry, are you alright?" I asked. He just looked at me like I was stupid. "Do I look alright to you?" he asked. "Just get out of here Angela. I'll call one of my friends and go to a clinic in the next town. You should just go and take care of your problems." "Jerry, I guess we probably won't be seeing each other anymore," I said. "Ya think?" he smirked. Then he shook his head and picked up his cell phone. I left the room and went out to my car. I got in and started the car but didn't drive off. I called Lucas on his cell phone and he didn't pick up. I called the house and left him a message telling him how sorry I was and that I was going to give him some time to calm down before we talked. I told him that I was sorry again and that I loved him." Then I tried to compose myself and drove back to work. The rest of the afternoon was uneventful except for a few jokes about me smelling like I hadn't had time to shower after my, "Lunch." At three thirty I got a call from a lawyer in one of the nearby towns. He told me that he was representing Lucas in our divorce and he wanted to talk to me for a few moments. I took his number down and went into my office and called him right back. "Mr. Mason," I said, when he picked the phone up. "There has to be some kind of mistake. My husband and I aren't getting a divorce. We had a little incident today, but it's nowhere near serious enough for that. As soon as we talk I'm sure he'll tell you the same thing." He was very polite over the phone. "I believe you Mrs. Blue," he said. "You don't have to convince me. In fact I'm hoping that everything works out just as you've said it will. But in the meantime, I've been asked to give you some instructions from your husband. Do you have a pen or something to write with?" "Yes I do," I said. "Very good," he said. "According to your husband, you are to retain an attorney ASAP. He suggests that you pick one from one of the surrounding towns and not your own to avoid embarrassing either of you. He is also giving you three days to move out of the farmhouse. During that time, he'll live in the barn that he converted to house his business. He went into town and bought a small refrigerator and a microwave for the barn so he won't be coming into the house while you're there except to shower or use the bathroom..." "But where will he sleep?" I asked. "I'm sorry but I don't know the answer to that question, Ma'am," he said. "I can only tell you what I've been instructed to say." "I want to talk to Lucas before this goes too far," I said. "I will certainly relay that message, Ma'am," he said. "As soon as you have retained an attorney, please give him my contact information so we can get the process started. I have a meeting scheduled with your husband later today so we can go over his proposed property division. Is there something that you'd like him to consider while we draw up the papers?" "Yeah," I said. "I'd like him to consider that I love him and I made a mistake. I'm very sorry for what I did and I don't want a divorce." "I'll tell him that," he said. "Would you like to have the papers served at home? Your husband thought that doing that would save you the embarrassment of being served in a public place." "Mr. Mason, can I ask you a question?" I said. "Of course Ma'am," he said. "And please, call me Perry." "In a case like mine, I'd imagine that the husbands are often in shock for a while. They're running on raw emotion and they make decisions that they haven't thought out. In a lot of cases it's really the pain that's making them do the things they do. Is that a fair assessment?" I asked. "In most cases yes," he said. "What about my case?" I asked. "Mrs. Blue, your husband walked calmly into my office. He'd taken down notes on what he wanted and had assessed the situation very calmly. He had also brought in some of your financial papers pertaining to his home and business so we could discuss the division of the assets. I don't think your husband is acting without thinking. I think that he's simply put his pain aside for the moment and thought about what he wants very calmly and with a cool head." As I hung up the phone, the tears started to fall. I worked for the rest of the day and as usual, I was the last person to leave the bank. I dreaded going home for the first time I can remember. I pulled into out driveway and saw that the lights were still on in the barn. There were no lights on in the house though. I did notice that the lock on the door had been changed but it had been left open for me. I put my briefcase down on the floor and turned on the lights in the house. I looked around the kitchen and noticed that it was clean. Normally, even if he was working late Lucas would have made us something for dinner. Shit, normally, Lucas would have been in the house to welcome me home by wrapping those big old arms around me and trying to hug the life out of me. It's funny how you never remember or appreciate anything until it's gone. I looked in the fridge and grabbed too cold beers. On a night like this Lucas would probably welcome a frosty Dos Equis enough that maybe he'd talk to me. As I headed for the barn, I noticed that I didn't hear the sounds of the machines humming and clanking as they made whatever parts he was working on. That was a good thing because it meant he'd have time to talk. I reached for the door handle and found that it was locked. I knocked on the door and waited for him to answer it. While I waited, I heard the sound of water coming from the other side of the barn. I shook my head because some things just don't ever change. I walked around the barn and found as I'd expected to, Lucas washing his car. It was almost fitting that since he didn't expect to be spending any time with me, he'd use his time on the other thing that he loved. He didn't even look up as I approached him. I reached for his headphones, smiling like I always did. Before my hand touched them, he dropped the cloth he was polishing the car with and intercepted my hand all in one smooth motion. "Don't touch me," he snapped. If I thought that I'd been shocked when he knocked Jerry back into the room that was nothing compared to this. As I looked into the eyes of the man I'd loved for so long, I expected to see anger. I thought that this early in the situation maybe there'd be hatred or resentment. I wouldn't have been shocked to see pain, frustration, confusion or even tears. But I saw none of that. All I saw was resignation. I saw the very same thing I saw every time Lucas had to do something he didn't like or want to do, but had to because it was necessary. When I asked him to take out the garbage, I got that look. As soon as he'd taken care of whatever unpleasant duty or task he had, his smile came back. Right now, I was the unpleasant thing that had to be taken care of. Things were far worse than I'd ever imagined. "Did Mr. Mason give you my messages?" I asked. He just nodded as he went back to polishing his car. "Lucas, I'm really S..." I began before he interrupted me. Again there was no anger or pan in his voice at all. "Just because I got the message, doesn't mean I agreed to it," he said. "I have no reason to talk to you." "You have a very big reason to talk to me Lucas," I said louder than I intended. "I'm your wife. I love you. You love me. We have a problem that we really need to talk about. There has never been a time since we met that you and I couldn't sit down and work out our differences. We need to talk about this Lucas. No matter how angry you are we still have to talk. When did we ever get to the point where we couldn't talk?" He dropped the rag and stood up to face me. Again, I expected anger, but it wasn't there. "How about yesterday after the race when I asked you who that asshole was and instead of us "TALKING," you lied to me," he said. "Or how about today, when I caught you fucking the same asshole in that sleazy motel?" I had to do something so I tried to lie about it. "Lucas, I shouldn't have been in that room with him but we weren't fucking," I said. Lucas just smiled at me. "That's why we can't talk," he said. He pulled out his iPhone and pushed a couple of controls on it. Then he stuck the phone in my face and I saw that he'd actually had time to record video of me and Jerry. "There's no point in talking when you'll only lie," he said. "You only have two days left to get all of your stuff out of my house. Don't waste it." "This is my house too Lucas," I said. "I've lived here since the day we moved in." He just smiled at me again. "Remember how upset you were about the cost of the house and the loan?" he asked. "You made me sign a paper that removed you from responsibility for any part of the debt I picked up buying the house. That also removes you from any degree of ownership." "Lucas, where will I go?" I asked him. "I don't care," he said, "as long as it's away from me. And please get yourself a lawyer. You'll get your papers tomorrow. I'd like to wrap this up as quickly as possible." "Then why can't we talk?" I asked. "Lucas, I don't want a divorce." "You should have thought about that while you were fucking other guys in motels," he said. "You knew that I'd never put up with that, so it obviously means that you wanted a divorce." "Lucas, I've been unhappy for a long time," I said, with tears beginning to form. "Well, now you're free to go out there and make yourself as happy as you can," he said calmly, while rubbing what he thought was a smudge on his paint. "Lucas, I wasn't unhappy with US," I said. "I was just bored and I hate my job." "You weren't cheating on the bank in that motel," he said. "You were cheating on me. If you wanted to cheat on the bank you could have stayed home and spent time with your husband. Or you could have called in on days that you weren't really sick. Or you could have just quit. We have more than enough money." "Lucas, after all of the time we've been together, can't you give US a chance?" I asked. "Yes I can," he said. "But it's the same chance you gave me, when you discovered that you weren't happy and you started fucking strangers. That means it's no chance at all. I really have to finish this, so any further talks will have to happen in the lawyer's office." "You'll be waiting for a long ass time then," I snapped. "I'll fight this with everything I have." As I walked away Lucas didn't even bother to look up or to reply, he simply kept polishing his car. * * * * * Jerry I woke up and looked around. The room I was in wasn't my motel room. Then the throbbing in both my face and my side reminded me of where I was. I sat up, painfully. The aching in my side threatened to knock me out again. I swallowed a couple of pain pills. "Here dumb ass," said Arnie's gruff voice. "You really fucked this one up." "We can still go through with it," I said. "There was no police report filed in either town. No one knows that we exist. Although with all of the trouble brewing in old banana tits' home life, maybe we should move the timetable up." "Like up to when?" he asked. "Like tomorrow," I said. "Today all of the little businesses in town will make their mid-week deposits. It's also the time when all of the payroll cash will be in the bank for all of the people who work for the bigger businesses around the area. That little bank will be full of money and that way we can get the fuck out of here before I get named in a divorce action." Arnie laughed. "Hey, maybe you ought to bring the little woman with us." "Get real," I said. "That bitch means nothing to me. I had to take Viagra around her and still couldn't get it up sometimes. I'd rather fuck her husband's car." "Don't even think about it," said Arnie. "The last thing we need while we're trying to blend into the woodwork is a bright green car that's so loud you can hear it in the next town." * * * * * Lucas Angela was supposed to have moved out yesterday. Four days had passed since I'd given her three days to leave. I'd called my lawyer early this morning and he'd told me to calm down. He said that the verbal notice I'd given really couldn't be enforced. He'd draft a legal notice and give it to her today. He also hadn't received any communication concerning the divorce papers he'd delivered to her. He told me that sometimes people tried to simply bury their heads in the sand hoping that the situation would rectify itself or go away. Angela constantly called me and left messages for me. She was trying to come up with every possible solution she could. The only one I'd even responded to was when she suggested that I go out and fuck someone else for a month so we'd be even. The only reason I responded to that was because hearing that she'd been fucking that guy for a whole month hurt me even more. The Bank But I kept my cool and simply told her that if she thought that it could be fixed that easily then she had never loved me the way I loved her and I really did need to move on with my life. She called back almost immediately. "Who is she?" she screamed. "The only reason that you'd just give up on us so quickly after all of this time would be if you've already got someone else or maybe you've got someone else in mind." "There isn't anyone else, Angela," I told her calmly. "Then why won't you give US one more chance?" she asked. "It'll never happen again. I swear it." Then her voice got very quiet and very low. "I miss you Lucas. I love you. I never meant to hurt you. I just needed something." "What you mean is that you never meant to get caught," I said. "And now you're free to go and find whatever you need. If you did love me you never would have betrayed me this way. And you're absolutely God damned right it'll never happen again because you'll never have the chance." That conversation had happened the day before and was still stinging me. I loaded another pallet of blanks into the machine. The program was written so that it would mill four parts on one pallet. I was just about to push the cycle start button to begin running the parts when I heard the tapping on the door. I honestly thought that it was Angela then I realized that I'd seen her drive off to work that morning so there was no way she'd be back at only one o' clock in the afternoon. Maybe she was sick. Or maybe she was coming to tell me that she was leaving. That would be great news, except for the fact that she'd told me less than twenty four hours ago that I'd have to get the army to make her leave. I unlatched the door and pulled it open. Standing there in front of me was the cop from the race. Again, I was struck by how gorgeous she was. This time she actually had on official Sheriff's department clothing. Her pale eyes were hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses, but nothing could hide those boobs. "Mr. Blue, I'm going to need you to come with me," she said. Her voice was emotionless and official. Her eyes raked over the inside of the barn in that way that cops have of checking out everything, even when you haven't done anything. "Officer...uhm," I began. "Gorgeous," she said. And then her face got flushed and I could tell she was embarrassed. "Err that's what you said about me the other day." "That was almost a week ago," I said. "I apologized for it then and it was before I realized that you were a public official." "So does that mean that you didn't mean it?" she asked. "Or just that you wished you hadn't said it about a cop?" "Which one will make it so I don't have to go with you?" I asked. "Is the town really so hard up for cash that you're arresting me because I accidentally gave you a compliment?" "You're not under arrest," she said. "There's been an incident in town. I need you to remain calm okay." I nodded. "The bank was robbed a short time ago. The security guard, Ted Granger, was killed and your wife was shot. She's in surgery right now. They think she's going to pull through, but we need you to come to the hospital." "No," I said. She'd already turned towards her car expecting me to follow her. I paused admiring the way her ass made even those formless police uniform pants look incredible. She turned and caught me looking. "Excuse me?" she said. "Your wife is in the hospital." She looked at me like I was some kind of a bug. "Maybe I WILL arrest you," she said. For the first time since this thing happened, I couldn't put up my front anymore. At what was the worst possible time, I just let my emotions go. "I don't have a fucking wife anymore," I snapped, angrily. "So whoever you have in the hospital is on her own. If you want to fucking arrest me just go ahead. I already have a lawyer, the same one who's handling the divorce." I saw her hand hovering near her holster. She looked into my eyes and hers softened. She pushed me back inside my barn, looking around again as she came in. She made me sit down on the couch I had in the corner. "You still had a wife Sunday at the race," she said. "Remember how you threw that in my face." I nodded. "So what happened?" "I found out Monday that she'd been fucking some guy in a motel for about a month," I said. "I filed for divorce the same day." "Maybe you two will work things out," she said. "Excuse me officer," I said. "But there's not a fucking chance of that." "You're a lot smarter than I am then," she said. "My ex cheated on me for over five years. I didn't get the strength to walk away until the third or fourth time that I caught him." My eyebrows went up in surprise and she looked at me. "What?" she said. "I'm sorry," I said. "I just can't imagine anyone cheating on you. He must've been stupid you're so..." She looked at me funny then. "Oh no!" I said. "I'm not making that mistake again." "I know you don't want to do this," she said. "And legally I can't make you. I'd have to go back to the Sheriff's station and get a warrant as a material witness sworn out or something. But I'd really appreciate it if you'd come with me." I locked the barn and went with her. We drove in near silence to the hospital that was only eight miles away from my house. "Who knows," she said as we got out of the car. "Maybe this will get the two of you back together." "No chance of that," I said. She took me over to the nurse's station. I already knew both of the nurses there. She gave me one of her business cards. "I'll be back when the doctors call us to tell us that she's out of surgery," she said. "I'm going back to help interview the other witnesses. If she wakes up before I get here and says anything, write it down for me." I nodded. "And Mr. Blue," she said. I looked at her. "It wasn't a mistake. It made my day." * * * * * * Angela I woke up to an unimaginable level of pain in my shoulder and in the side of my head. I tried to reach up and touch my head but my arm wouldn't move. The other arm had tubes attached to it. My throat felt as if it was as dry as the Sahara. "Lucas," I croaked out. A nurse came into the room. She walked over and gave me some water to drink. It lubricated my throat to the point that I could talk. She smiled at me. "Welcome back," she said. "Lucas," I repeated. "I'll get him," she said. I closed my eyes and when I opened them, Lucas was in the room. He was standing at the foot of my bed looking at me. "Lucas, it was Jerry," I said. "Honey, I'm so sorry. I should have..." I stopped talking immediately as a Sheriff's deputy came into the room. He looked at Lucas who was standing at the foot of the bed. "Is she alright?" he asked. Lucas just shrugged his shoulders. "Can I go now?" he asked. The deputy looked at him strangely. "Sir, isn't this your wife?" he asked. "Aren't you concerned?" "Look," said Lucas. "We're getting a divorce..." "We are not," I said. The deputy looked at both of us. "She cheated on me," said Lucas. "I've..." "It was the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life and I was seduced into it," I said. "I've already told him it'll never happen again, but he won't forgive me." "Would you?" Lucas asked the deputy. "If the woman you'd married and been with for over ten years was fucking some guy in a sleazy motel and it went on for over a month, what would you do?" "Maybe and I do mean MAY-Fucking-BE, you could get over it if it had only happened once. But when it went on for a month and she lied to you multiple times about it...What would you do?" The deputy couldn't think of anything to say. "And as far as my concern goes, you have witness' statements, I wasn't there and I didn't shoot her so I have no concern in this at all. My only concern is that this will delay my divorce even further," spat Lucas. "Another thing," he said. "The other deputy brought me here so I could possibly help if she said anything. From speaking to the nurses she's going to be fine. They said there was a problem but it wasn't life threatening. She got shot in the head and in the shoulder. The bullet was removed from her shoulder. The shot to the head glanced off of her skull. Neither of those injuries prevents her from talking. So anything you need to ask her, you can ask her yourself." The deputy nodded and Lucas asked him if he could get someone to drive him back out to the farm. For some reason, that deputy decided to drive Lucas home himself. Another deputy arrived and was going to do it but the two of them were arguing until finally she stepped into the room. She had black hair arranged in one of those styles that not everyone can wear. I'd look ridiculous with my hair like that but she pulled it off. It was way longer on one side than it was on the other and she kept shaking it out of her eyes. Men love that kind of shit. They think it's sexy as all get out. I hated that bitch on sight and decided not to talk to her. "Mrs. Bl...What do you want me to call you?" she asked. "What do you mean by that?" I asked. "My name is Angela Blue. Everyone knows that." "Uhm... your husband gave me the impression that a divorce was a foregone conclusion," she said. "Well, it's not," I snapped harshly. "Lucas is still upset. Not that it's any of your business. What do you want anyway?" "Well, I need to ask you some questions about what happened at the bank," she said. "Some men came in and took the money," I said. She looked at me like I was a fucking idiot. So I gave her the same look right back. "I got shot in the head. My memory is spotty," I told her. "When do you think it might get better?" she asked. Then I did the absolute dumbest thing I've ever done. "It might not get better at all," I said. "The doctors said that some things I may never remember. They said it had to do with traumatic experiences. Then again, I always seem to remember things better when Lucas is around. Even before this happened, just having my husband near me or holding my hand makes my memory better." She looked at me and her eyes narrowed. She put down her pad and nodded her head. "Your husband or your ex-husband is neither a suspect nor a person of interest in this case. If I drag him out here again and you don't come up with something I may charge you with something." "Oh God, my head hurts," I screamed. Instantly, three nurses ran into the room. "I think it's the stress of trying to remember so much so fast," I whined. She just laughed and shook her head. "Tomorrow morning," she said. "Yes," I smiled. "Under the right circumstances, I might be ready by then." * * * * * * Lucas As soon as the deputy left, I went into the house and looked in the freezer. I grabbed myself a steak and started to marinade it. I beat the crap out of it to tenderize it and poured the flavoring agents over it. I went out behind the house and started my grill. Then I went into the barn and started a pallet of parts. If it hadn't been for all of that bullshit at the hospital I have done four or five pallets by now. I left the barn and went back to check the grill. I'd almost made it when the car drove up. I tried to pretend I didn't see her. "Oh come on. I'm not that bad," she yelled, catching up to me. "Mr. Blue, I really need your help," she said. "How now?" I began. She held up her hand and spoke into her radio. "This is Tanya. I'm off. I'll be back at the hospital first thing in the morning to try again." Then she went back to her car. I saw her fiddling around in there and I thought I saw flashes of skin but I couldn't be sure. When she got back out of the car she had on cut-off shorts that showed those incredible, thick sculpted legs. They were long enough that they covered her ass completely, but tight enough to tease the hell out of you. She had a very thick sweater on up top. Too thick for the time of year but I realized that she probably needed it. "Mr. Blue, would you like to have dinner with me? I need to ask you a really big favor," She smiled as she said it and flipped her hair out of her face. It was over before it began. "Unh huh," I said. "Wait I can't. I've already got a steak marinating." "That sounds great for me," she said. "Do you have one for yourself too?" We both laughed and she followed me to the kitchen. Naturally, being a woman, she told me that I was doing the steaks wrong. I let her do it her way and we headed out to the grill. After putting the steaks on the grill we sat back on the deck as the sun began to settle in the evening sky. "It's really pretty here," she said. I nodded. "Okay officer," I began. "Tanya," she interrupted. "Tanya," I started again. "Why are you here?" "You mean other than eating your steak, drinking your beer and watching the sun set on your deck?" she smiled. "I spent some time with your wife..." she said. "Very fucking soon to be ex-wife you mean," I spat. "Wow," she said, smiling as she got up to turn the steaks. "It's good to see that you're already over the bitterness." I just looked at her. "Anyway your ex is a real piece of work," she said. "You'd think that she'd be willing to do anything it takes to help us catch the guys who robbed the bank and killed Ted Granger, especially since they shot her too. But nope, she's trying to use whatever she knows as some kind of bargaining chip to get you to talk to her. I can't understand her." "That makes two of us," I said. "We moved here right after we got married because it seems like a great place for us to raise kids. It's away from all of the bullshit and the rat race of the bigger cities. I thought we had it all worked out and we were happy. I found out that she'd been fucking that jerk for a month behind my back. So roughly the last five or six weeks of my life have pretty much been a lie." "She tells me, of course, that it had nothing to do with us. She was bored and she hates her job. I just don't get why that made her cheat on me if it IS true." "Did she start telling you that she loves you and the sex meant nothing yet?" asked Tanya. "That was the one that hurt me the most. I mean if it didn't mean anything, but it hurt me...I mean you so badly why would they do it?" "Oh it meant something," I said. "It meant that there is no way I can stay married to her." "Well...I really hate to ask you this," she said, brushing that hair out of her face again and getting up to take the steaks off of the grill. "But I need a favor," she continued, as she dropped the bigger of the two steaks in front of me. "Could you go and see her tomorrow morning with me?" she asked, staring at me. Those pale gray eyes bore into mine like twin spotlights. They said so much without the need for words. They told me that she really had been through what I had and it had scarred her far worse than my experience had. Perhaps that was why she just couldn't see how amazing she was. The fact that some asshole had cheated on her repeatedly destroyed her self-esteem. At that moment there was no way I'd refuse her anything. It came as a complete shock to both of us when I said, "No." "Lucas, would you do it for me?" she asked. She turned up the intensity of her eyes a notch and I audibly gulped, which cause her to smile. "Oh my god, I have to get you to an eye doctor," she gushed. "You really do have a thing for me don't you?" She tried to avoid embarrassing me by changing the subject. "So what time should I pick you up in the morning?" she asked. "We don't have to go," I said. "Why not?" she asked. "Because she told me something when she first woke up. She said that Jerry had done it. And Jerry was the one who shot her," I said. "Who the hell is Jerry?" she asked seriously. "Jerry is the asshole she's been fucking," I spat. "Maybe you don't have to go," she smiled. "I can force your wife to give us a description of him now. If she refuses I can charge her with withholding information or obstruction of justice." "And then she'll just pretend that her memory comes and goes," I said. "But you still don't need her." "Why not?" she asked. "Because you can have a copy of this," I said. I pulled out my iPhone and showed her the video I'd taken. "It's high definition video and it's very clear. I'm sure you'll want the original so just return the phone to me when your people make a copy for themselves. I've already given my lawyer a copy. I'm going to use it for leverage in the divorce." Before I could say a word, Tanya reached out and kissed me. I think she meant to kiss me on the cheek but one of us must have moved the wrong way because she ended up kissing me right smack in the mouth. We both must have been shocked because neither of us moved away. "Sorry," she said. "That wasn't supposed to happen. You aren't even divorced yet. Oh well, it's not like you didn't like it," she smiled. "I hated it," I said. "I should bring you up on charges for abusing your authority." "If you hated it so much why didn't you push me away?" she asked. "But don't worry since you hated it so much you won't be getting any more of them." "I take it back," I said so quickly that it made her laugh. She picked up my phone and said, "I have to go and drop this off at the office so they can start extracting pictures from the video and get an APB out for this guy. Thanks Lucas." "No prob..." I started to say before she interrupted me by kissing me again. This one was even longer than the first one. "I meant that one," she said. * * * * * * Angela "What the fuck?" I screamed, as I looked at myself in the mirror for the first time in days. Those asshole doctors had shaved my head near where the bullet hit me. I suppose it had been necessary and in time it would grow back, but Lucas loves my hair. Some times at night he brushes it for me. He gives it long slow loving strokes. He doesn't hurry or rush through it. He simply brushes it for the enjoyment of doing it. Of course, on a good night, he'll follow that up by warming up some lotion and giving me a very gentle, very complete massage that sets my whole body tingling. We usually end up making slow, passionate love until... "It'll grow back Ma'am," said the nurse holding the mirror for me. My left arm was completely immobilized. If I moved it they were worried that the stitches in it might leave a more unsightly scar or give me an infection. They had taken the tubes out of my right arm last night but it was still hard to make yourself look presentable with only one hand. "What time are the police coming?" I asked her. "They're in and out all day," she said. "It could be any time. But I'm sure they realize that you've been shot, so you don't have to try to make yourself look pretty for them." Her smile as she said that made me wonder how she'd gotten through medical school. "That evil bitch who was here last night is supposed to be bringing my husband to see me," I said. Her eyes lit up. "That's different," she said. "Aren't you married to that guy who won the race last Sunday? He's a dreamboat. You're braver than I would be." "What do you mean?" I asked. "Shit, my husband doesn't look anything yours, Honey, but there's no way I'd want him around that woman. It's like opening the bird cage and telling the cat to watch your parakeet," she said. Then realizing that she'd probably said too much, she changed the subject. "Not that you have to worry about anything like that. Your marriage is very solid isn't it? So he'd have no reason to look for anyone else. But if it wasn't THEN I'd be worried." The Bank I did the best I could. I put on makeup and lipstick and fine-tuned it until I looked as good as I could. Luckily, the doctors had only shaved the area around where the bullet grazed me so I was able to comb my hair down over it. If you didn't know what to look for it was barely noticeable. After the nurse left, I started going over what I'd say to both the Keystone cops and more importantly to Lucas. First, after thinking about it, I realized that telling the deputies anything about my relationship with Jerry would probably be a mistake. I doubted that they'd believe that I didn't know that he was going to rob the bank. I'd believed everything he told me about working for a movie company. The less they knew about that the better. I'd let them believe that I was just an innocent bank employee who got shot during the robbery. The only other person, who knew that I knew Jerry, was Ted and unfortunately, though fortunate for me, he was dead. In a way that was my fault. As for Lucas, I had to play this perfectly. The longer we were apart the greater the chance that I wouldn't get him back. He was seemingly adjusting to living without me far faster than I would ever have thought. And judging from the reaction of those stupid women at the bank and even the nurses in the hospital, Lucas could replace me fairly easily if he got lonely. There had to be a way for me to get him to get over this. I was sure that if I put my mind to it I could come up with something. Breakfast came and went with no cops. I was beginning to get frustrated. I actually thought about calling the Sheriff's department myself. For several hours, I fussed around in my bed trying to think of what I'd do about saving my marriage, when suddenly it hit me. I didn't have to do anything. All I had to do was nothing. I'd get the doctors to tell Lucas that I needed someone to take care of me. They'd already told me that I could go home in a couple of days if I had someone to watch over me. I'd also play up the one bad arm thing to the hilt. Lucas had always taken good care of me anyway. It was one of the ways that even when we were dating I knew that he'd be a great father someday. He's caring and compassionate and above all else he has a sense of fairness that is just incredible. And while he's taking care of me, I can tell him what I now suspected. My new theory was that Jerry used me to get information about the bank. He just played up my boredom with my life to work his way into my affections to get information out of me about the bank. I'd also have to tell Lucas that he couldn't tell the police anything about Jerry because he might come back to try to finish the job. I was sure that Jerry had only shot me to let the police know that I was innocent. Even when he pulled the trigger, I could see the love in his eyes. I wouldn't tell Lucas that part though. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And things between Jerry and I were over anyway. They'd ended for me the day that Lucas caught us. It had been fun but it wasn't worth losing my marriage over. Just as I was thinking about how to finalize my plan and possible get the doctor or one of the nurses to call Lucas, one of the nurses came into my room. "The security desk just called. The deputy is on her way up," she said smiling brightly. "And she has a man with her." I quickly arranged my hair and leaned back against my pillows. I was shooting for a pose that was both sexy and vulnerable at the same time. I wanted Lucas to think about how much he loved me and missed me. But I also wanted to arouse his protective instincts as well. You can't spend as much time with someone as Lucas and I had over the years without developing some degree of empathy for them. When he saw me in pain, it would hopefully bring those instincts out in Lucas. Just as little miss, "My shit doesn't stink," sashayed into my room followed closely by a man, I let out a well-timed moan of pain. Actually the rise in my voice that sold it was genuine. It wasn't genuine pain though; they had me so doped up that I couldn't feel shit. What caused my voice to rise wasn't pain, it was surprise. The man with her wasn't my Lucas. It was some grizzled old guy. He looked like a Sam Elliot clone and he was wearing a Sheriff's department uniform like hers. "Where's Lucas?" I asked her heatedly. "He didn't want to come," she snapped back, just as heatedly. "Oh boy," I said. "I think I'm getting dizzy. Maybe I'd better call the nurse." "Maybe I should handle this," said the man. "There seems to be something going on between the two of you that might not be good for my investigation." "I'm the Sheriff," he said. "We'd like to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Rod Shorter." "Who the hell is that?" I asked him. "He's the man you knew as Jerry," he said slowly. "It may be another alias, though." "I don't know any Jerry either," I said. He stood up and walked around the room. He shrugged his shoulders at the female deputy. "Well Tanya," he said. "I've tried to shield you from this kind of thing, but you have to grow up some time." She just nodded and smiled. I was wondering what the fuck he was talking about when he suddenly stopped pacing and glared straight at me. "Alright bitch," he spat. "Here's how this really works. I don't give a flying fuck about you, your God damned problems or the boo-boo on your head. A good man is dead just so some out of town assholes can run off with the money a lot of people in this town worked very hard for. I had no clues to the identities of these men at all until last night we got a source that helped us out a lot." "The problem is that my source's account of what you know differs drastically from yours." My eyes widened and I think he saw it. "If I was going by my gut instinct, I'd believe him based on what I've seen of the two of you. He seems to be pretty honest and extremely fair. You on the other hand seem to be trying to either use my investigation for your own purposes or to actually cover things up." "Then there's the fact that he provided me with evidence to back up his claims. And there's also the fact that his evidence proves that you're lying to me. So unless you'd like to serve out the rest of your recovery and the beginning of your sentence in jail instead of this cushy hospital, you'd better start talking sister." I thought he was bluffing so I decided to try to stick to my story. "Oh, call the nurse," I cried. "Yeah," he said. "Tanya, Honey, get the nurse in here." I knew then that he was serious. As soon as the nurse came into the room he started on her. "What's wrong with her?" he asked. The nurse looked flustered. "I can't release information on a patient or her condition without the patient's consent," she said. "Get the doctor in here," he snapped. I breathed a sigh of relief. A few moments later a doctor came into the room. He looked at the doctor. "Doctor," he said. "I know all about the HIPPA regulations and how you can't tell me shit about a patient without their consent. I also know that I can pick up my phone and call the judge and have him issue me a warrant for her records and make this shit extremely unpleasant for all concerned. So you and Mrs. Blue here need to figure a few things out either together or separately." "One way or another I'm going to have the information I need. So either A, Mrs. Blue needs to start telling me the truth. Or B you need to answer a few hypothetical questions for me that don't necessarily pertain to Mrs. Blue. Are you willing to do that?" There was a very short staring contest and the doctor blinked. "What would you like to know, hypothetically?" He gulped. "Hypothetically speaking," said the Sheriff. "If a person got shot in the head and it proved to only be a glancing blow, could that person recover in a prison hospital as well as they could here a few days after the incident had occurred?" "Well, theoretically," began the doctor. "Okay," I said. "I'll tell you what you want to know." "Start singing sister," he said. "Uhm, do the doctor and the nurse have to be in the room?" I asked. "Thanks doc," he said. Then he tipped his hat to the nurse and they left the room. "Look Mrs. Blue," he began. "I really think that we got off on the wrong foot here. I'm not trying to be overly hard on you and I give you my word that the details of your entanglements and your divorce are not my interest. The only thing I'm trying to do here is bring a murderer to justice." "I'm not getting a divorce," I said exasperatedly. My words brought a loud snort from the female deputy. He looked at her pointedly. "You and me are going to have a long talk about this later anyway," he told her. "Mrs. Blue, I don't want to take up too much of your time, all I really need for you to do right now is to verify some things for me. How long have you known Rodney Shorter?" "I met him about 5 or 6 weeks ago," I said. "How long have you been fucking him?" asked Tanya. "I..." I hesitated and they both looked at me. "Look lady," he said. "This will go easier if you just answer the questions. Then we can leave and you can do whatever you're going to do. Maybe I should show you something first, okay. I'm going to lay all of my cards on the table, here. We'll be totally honest with you. So you'll know what we know and then you can be totally honest with us. But the next time I get the feeling you're holding something back I'm throwing your ass in jail for a while. Good luck trying to get your husband back from there." He reached into his pocket and brought out a phone. It was an iPhone 4s like the one Lucas has. He brought up a video and held it in front of my face. The video showed Jerry or whatever his real name was just fucking away at me. It was very clear and both of our faces could be easily identified. My eyes were closed, whether out of shame or pleasure, I couldn't tell. The most embarrassing thing though was something I'd never noticed before. The look on Jerry's face showed anything but lust or pleasure. It looked like he was disgusted. He was even licking his tongue out and making faces at me while he fucked me. It was strange that all the time I'd thought that the sex I'd had with Jerry was intense and special but seeing it from this angel made it look like two people having a sleazy quickie in a cheap motel. "So you can now see why I haven't believed a word out of your God damned mouth," he said. "You can also see that I have a really good case for withholding information too, right?" I nodded my head and looked away from him. I was ashamed. "Just answer the God damned questions okay?" he asked. "I didn't immediately start sleeping with Jerry," I said. "It took him a while to break me down." "How long?" he asked. "A two weeks? A month?" "Two days," I said. "But he really..." "Two fucking days?" asked Tanya in shock. "Jeezus, weren't you married at the time?" "It didn't mean anything and it has nothing to do with my marriage," I offered. "It was just sex. He listened to me and..." "Did your husband listen to you?" she asked. "Yes, all the time," I said. "We talked every day and..." "Did your husband ever beat you or come home drunk and act crazy?" she asked. "Of course not," I said. "Lucas wouldn't hurt a fly, he..." "Did he cheat on you or steal from you?" she asked. "No," I said. "Lucas isn't that kind of person." I was about to say something else but she interrupted me again. "Then what the fuck is wrong with you lady?" she asked. "Do you know how many women there are who would love to have a man like the one you pissed away?" "Tanya, wait outside," said the Sheriff. "You and I are still going to have words, missy." "I'm sorry for that Mrs. Blue," he said. "So you immediately started a sexual relationship with Mr. Shorter; we've established that. Was Mr. Shorter one of the men who robbed your bank?" "Yes," I said. "Was Mr. shorter the man who shot you and Ted Granger?" he asked. "Yes," I said. "Since all of the men were wearing masks, how did you know this?" he asked. "I recognized his voice when we went into the safe," I said. "I asked him not to rob the bank. I tried to get him to just leave. Ted, Jerry and I went into the safe while the other two men cleaned out the teller's drawers." "Go on," said the Sheriff. "Well, while we were there he had Ted start emptying the cash drawers in the safe and I recognized his voice. I said, 'Jerry that's you isn't it'. I could tell it was him because we were uhm...close. But I also knew it was him because he was having trouble with his mask. It looked like wearing the mask was painful for him. He kept trying to pull it away from his nose and it looked like every time he tried to move his side hurt." "The last time I'd seen Jerry. Lucas had done a real number on him when he caught us at the motel. He'd broken Jerry's nose and possible several of his ribs." "Thank you Mrs. Blue," said the Sheriff. "That wasn't so hard was it?" He looked at me with a mixture of pity and revulsion. He tried to cover it up behind a persona of professionalism but he wasn't that good an actor. "We already knew most of this from Mr. Blue and his video. It was very honest of your husband to give us that video and very helpful as well. He gave it to us unsolicited despite the fact that it could have gotten him in hot water," he said. "How could it have gotten Lucas in trouble?" I asked. "He put the phone down in the window to make the recording," said the Sheriff. "So he didn't have time to turn it off. The video shows him knocking the shit out of Shorter and then kicking him in the side. That could be used to prove an assault charge against him but he gave us the video anyway. That takes guts and a willingness to see things done the right way. My niece tried to cover for him by making a copy of the tape and cutting it off before the assault. In actuality we needed that part of the tape too. Once we found out how your lover had been injured we checked all of the clinics in town and all of the neighboring towns until we found where he'd been treated. That's how we got his name. He does have a criminal record under that name so maybe it's his real one. We have an APB out for him nation-wide. I'm sure he'll turn up. Stay in town, we may have further questions for you as the investigation proceeds." After the Sheriff left, I got the doctor to come back into my room. He seemed to be trying to apologize for almost allowing the Sheriff to throw me into jail. I asked him how soon I could be released. He told me that I could actually leave later that day if I had someone to pick me up and watch over me for the next few days. I told him to call Lucas. * * * * * * Lucas I was checking the dimensions on some of the parts I'd just run when my phone rang. I looked at the caller I.D. and saw that it was the hospital. I walked away from the phone. It could only be the doctor or some member of the hospital staff calling me to inform me of Angela's condition or calling to ask me questions about billing for Angela's treatment. I wasn't interested in either. My health insurance company would handle the billing since she was still covered under my policy. And unless they were calling to tell me that she'd died during the night or this morning, I really didn't want to hear about her condition. Of course, it could have been Angela herself calling me. I'd be even less interested then. I measured the overall thickness of the parts using a Starrett digital micrometer. The parts on this pallet were well within the allowed tolerances. There'd be no need for me to do any offsets for tool wear on the next batch. I pushed the cycle start button and watched as the tool came down to begin cutting the next blank. I loaded the parts I'd just measured into a box. I was back on schedule. I'd taken quick naps as I ran parts all through the night. My UPS truck would be here by four p.m. this afternoon. I should have all of the parts done by two p.m. I decided that another quick nap wouldn't hurt me. It would take the milling center over an hour to run the pallet of parts and I was a bit tired. I stifled a yawn just as the knocking on the door started. I was pissed. How the fuck was I supposed to run my business with all of the constant interruptions? As I opened the door to the cheerful face of Stan Lee, our mailman I had to smile. Stan was never unhappy. Whether he was delivering mail in the July heat like today or the unrelenting chill of a Michigan winter he was always cheerful. It was hard to be upset around someone like that. Right after Stan left the phone started ringing again. I picked it up more to get whoever was calling to leave me alone than anything else. "Mr. Blue, can you come in today to take your wife home?" asked a voice on the other end of the line. "No, I can't," I said with mock cheer. "When can you come in?" he asked. "I can't bring her home because I don't know where she lives," I said. "I was under the impression that she resided with you," said the voice. "She will need someone to help her out and look out for her for a few days I'm afraid." "Call her mom," I said. "Or try a nursing home." Then I hung up the phone, thinking that a shower before my nap might be in order. Before I even made it to the door someone else had started knocking on it. Fate had obviously decided that I was unworthy of sleep. This time whoever was at the door would feel the brunt of my anger. I'd already taken a breath to yell at whoever it was when those pale gray eyes made me swallow it. "Hi Lucas," my ears relished the sound of that subtle southern accent, even as my eyes feasted on her curves and smile. She looked up at me and smiled and then brushed the unruly hair out of those eyes and away from her face. All thoughts and need for a nap vanished instantly. My own face erupted in a spontaneous smile. "Did I catch you at a bad time?" she asked. "I just came to bring you your phone back." "Never too busy to see my favorite law enforcement official," I said. "Are you always this nice to the deputies?" she asked "Nope, only the gorgeous ones," I said. "All of the gorgeous ones?" she asked, wrapping her arms around me. "Or only the ones who kiss you, like this?" She stepped up onto her tiptoes and pushed her mouth against mine. Everything stopped. I don't think I even heard the machines running in the background. This kiss was much more urgent than any of the others had been. This time her lips parted and her cherry flavored tongue met mine causing electrical impulses to run through both of our bodies. This time she pressed that firm body of hers against me and I wrapped my arms back against her pulling her even closer into me. "That's what I thought," she said. "Huh?" I asked, while trying to get the stars flying around in my head out, so I could focus again. "Oh God, we're going to have to get you more used to that," she smirked. "Maybe with practice..." I nodded excitedly. "So," she began, changing the subject. "We have something to talk about. What are you up to about now?" "Nothing," I said. "The parts I'm working on will be done in about an hour. I finally got the hospital off of my back." "What do you mean?" she asked. "Some doctor kept calling me, until I finally answered the phone," I said. "He wanted me to bring Angela home. I think I got it across to him that she no longer lives here." "Ooh, I wish you hadn't done that," she said, looking at me. "Well part of me is glad you did that though." The Bank Authors note: This story is a small look into my lovely little twisted head. I've covered the gamut of my infatuations in these pages, but certainly not all of them to full conclusions. This story DOES NOT contain blood/gore/death, scat, or bestiality. It DOES contain some heavy bdsm and forced lactation, as well as both MALE and FEMALE slaves (albeit with the story heavily slanted towards the female slave side), and a teeny tiny bit of watersports play. As one of the main themes is lactation, many, but not all (I wouldn't leave out you lithe body lovers! I like em too!) of the "cows" are fuller figured women, of all races, and have obscenely proportioned boobs. If reviews are positive, I fully plan on adding more, and continuing the series. I've written this with a heavy focus on sex and bondage, and while their is character development, you won't find this an in-depth study of the female mind, nor overly long non-sexual scenes. Think of it as more like written porn, and we will be golden. Feedback is much appreciated. If enough feedback is received, I will gladly take polls on who likes what and who about my tale. Ideas/suggestions are always appreciated, such as expounding on a secondary character or pursing a particular fetish. I hope you all enjoy the read! The Bank A New "Recruit" is found It was a sunny, midday afternoon in Los Angles, California. A slight breeze swept the busy city, weaving its way through car, trees, buildings, and people alike. A touch warmer than usual for the spring weather of early May at a sweltering 87 degrees Fahrenheit, it made for a stark contrast to the dimly lit, air conditioned room occupied by several expensively dressed men and women. All were watching a group of computer monitors playing several angles of live feed from hidden cameras around the target being viewed. "This subject will fit deliciously with our program, don't you agree Ms. Chase?" said one chiseled Asian man of almost 6 feet in fine black suit. "Yes sir, I do Mr. Okata," replied a lithe woman of African-American descent. Her 5'7" frame was wrapped elegantly in a form fitting red dress, with a deep V cut into the front, hinting at her firm C cup breasts. Flowing down her body, it hugged her apple bottom rear, showing its ample shape well. Mr. Okata turned to another man of African descent. "Mr. Dixon, where did you discover this lovely gem?" The tall, barrel-chested man turned in his chair and replied in his deep voice, "Random chance on this one, not on our usual grid or contact lists. I have to say, I cannot take credit for this one, Mr. Sloan is responsible for this lovely specimen." All eyes turned his way. Mr. Sloan, a tall Caucasian man, with a slimmer build than Mr. Dixon, spoke smoothly. "I actually ran into this one in the real world, while doing some quick shopping. This one showed promise. Well endowed, single, seems to be fairly introverted, possibly due to her 'condition'." "What condition is that, Mr. Sloan?", replied Mr. Okata, with a look of concern on his face. Sloan responded, "Well, just watch the feed and see..." Samantha Blake was alone in her apartment near downtown LA. The neighborhood was fairly nice, not too affluent, but well enough to pay the police to keep the street gangs and crime out of the area. She was sitting on her bad, facing her new, large mirror – the third one this year: she smashed the previous ones. Wrapped in a white towel, her milk chocolate skin was a stark, beautiful contrast to it. Holding her head in her hands, she cried for the 2nd time that day. It had been over two years since her husband, an up and coming corporate lawyer, had left her, blaming her for the loss of their unborn son. She had been pregnant, but miscarried. The fact that it was due to her loving husband abusing her almost daily for whatever he chose was apparently lost on him. The loss of both made for a difficult time for Samantha for a long while. Mostly through the healing process, today's bout of crying was brought on by yet another man leaving her, citing reasons that she knew weren't true. She slowly stood up, dropping her towel, and looked at the body that she thought was driving men away from her. Samantha stood at a slight 5' 5" tall, a bit chubby, but firm nonetheless. No folds or odd sagging flesh. Her butt was just right, not too wide, but not a skinny white girl ass either. It was round and sumptuous, to be sure. She measured 38-28-36, not too bad for a woman that had gone through all she had, but it disgusted her. What really did it in were her massive 38HH breasts. Swaying almost 10 inches outward from the base of her chest, they were firm to the touch from her relative youth, yet gave way to softness when pressed. The enormous weight of her breasts pulled them down her ribcage, ending slightly below them, just touching her tummy. What made it worse was her condition, one that baffled doctors and had no cure. Ever since her pregnancy, she produced milk. Not just a little, but her udder-like breasts held their weight of the white fluid, causing her thick, dark, nickel-width nipples to constantly be hard, elongating them to ¾ inch and leak milk profusely and drip down her 2 inch diameter areola's. Her constant state of milk production seemed to have its affect elsewhere, as her pussy was constantly wet, necessitating her to wear absorbent liners in her panties at all times. Her elevated sense of arousal was heightened by her extremely sensitive clit. When engorged, it stuck out from under its hood, and even the smallest amount of friction could set her off, occasionally her detriment in workplace meetings. Her dates would see this and think her to be a slut or weird or whatever. Things never want very far for her in relationships and sex was a thing of the past. Unbeknownst to her, all of this was being recorded by the hidden cameras operated via remote control from a innocent looking repair van parked outside her apartment complex, and transmitted to the dim office room holding the well-dressed voyeurs. "Well, Mr. Okata, what shall we do?" asked Ms. Chase. "We take her tonight." Was the answer. Mr. Sloan spoke into a microphone. "The order is go, take her while she sleeps." Samantha came home after her day at work, walking by the repair van that she seemed to remember noticing earlier that day, and perhaps several days this week as well. Mildly curious, but taking no further thought, she entered her house. Several hours later, she ended up in bed, wrapping her breasts in a towel as to not wet the bed with her milk, as had happened in the past. Soon she was under the covers, and fell asleep. Under the watchful eye of the hidden cameras placed around her apart, prying eyes spied upon her. Once it was confirmed that she was sound asleep, the observation team in the disguised comms truck moved in. Stealthily, the team of four men approached her door. "Sir, do we have permission to take the target?" one said into his mic. "You have a green light, Alpha team," replied Mr. Sloan. "Take the target." With that said, the men quickly went into action. One man picked the lock, and they moved in. Approaching the sleeping target, another man pulled out an injection gun, pressed it against Samantha's skin, and fired. The sting awoke her briefly, and her eyes flared wide as she saw the blurry images of men standing over her. Before she could even utter a sound, the sleeping agent coursed through her veins, and she was knocked out. The men scooped her up, and carried her down to the van, which sped off into the night. Samantha awoke slowly, with a groggy feeling in her head. She was lying on a cot, one of two in the room. A single fluorescent tube was imbedded in the ceiling. The walls were concrete, as was the floor. As her eyes focused again, she sat up. Once up, she realized that she was completely naked. Instinctively, she crossed her arms as best she could over her massive brown breasts. Fear rapidly overtook her and she began hyperventilating. "Where am I?!" she thought to herself. The sound of her own voice inside her head reverberated like a shot. Still cloudy from the drugs effects, she managed to heave herself aloft as panic washed over her like a tidal wave. She screamed at the top of her lungs, begging, pleading for anyone to release her. She swore at the prison cell that held her captive, cursing her unknown assailants. Racing to the door, she beat it with what little strength she could muster, but it was of no use. The clear, Plexiglas door held firm. For endless minutes she screamed, yelled, and clawed, desperately seeking release, yet finding none. She sank back to her small cot, and huddled in the corner, Sam cried in shame and despair. For over an hour she sat, curled into the smallest ball she could, sobbing woefully at her situation, until a restless sleep overcame her once more. Waking up a short time later, Sam realized this was not a horrid nightmare, but reality. With that in mind, she decided to take stock of her current surroundings. Looking down to the cot, she saw wet stains, and knew it was from her tit milk. Upon that revelation, she realized that a dull ache was growing inside her breasts, and knew that she was overdue to express her swollen glands. Farther down her smooth, chocolate body, she saw her leg was manacled to a leg of the cot, and the cot itself was bolted securely to the floor. She tugged on it briefly, quickly realizing there was no breaking the bond. At the front of the room, the door was transparent. Getting up, Samantha decided to test the see through panel. With one arm still across her heavy breasts, she walked over to the door. Peering outside, she saw a hallway that extended far to the right and the left. It seemed to be some type of holding block, much like that of a prison. The hallway was well lit by fluorescent lights, and held identical doors to the one she was trapped behind, they seemed to be unoccupied at the moment. She noticed electronic locks on the outside, needing a key card to open it. Samantha stared off into space. "Why am I here? Why have these people captured me? Is anyone looking for me?" she spoke softly to herself, as tears began flowing down her cheeks. She sobbed for several minutes, until the sounds of heavy footsteps crashing down the hallway tore her eyes upward and towards the door. Three men appeared, dressed in military style uniforms, but wore no decorations showing nationality. Well muscled and obviously disciplined, they opened the door swiftly. "Stand up, hands behind your head. Quickly!" barked one of the men. She instinctively withdrew, trying to curl up into a ball on the bed. "Get away from me!" she cried out. The men were having none of her pleas. Two of the men roughly grabbed her arms, and simply hauled her 5'5" ebony frame to her feet. Her full, milk-laden breasts swung pendulously and slapped against her soft skin, causing small drops of milk to escape her thick nipples. "Please, stop this! You're hurting me!" she sobbed uncontrollably. A sharp slap stung her cute face. "Shut up and assume the position!" the third man exclaimed. Still crying, Samantha tentatively put her hands behind her head as was asked of her, her brown breasts rising slowly up her chest as her arms raised up and crossed behind her head. Deftly, with the other two guards closely watching Samantha's actions, the third man unlocked the ankle manacle. One of the other guards removed his backpack and handed it to the third man. He removed several items, with which Samantha was about to become familiar with. Four items were ankle and arm cuffs. Soft on the inside, but tough leather on the outside, they were fitted with two D-rings each. The man quickly applied them, and locked them into place with a small yet sturdy looking lock. The final piece was of similar design, but was a collar, about 1.5 inches in width, also with four D-Rings attached to it. It too was locked into place. "Follow us slave." Said the guard who applied her cuffs and collar. Reaching one last time into the bag, he produced a leather leash, and clipped that onto the collar via the front D-ring. Pulling her quickly, they lead her out of the room. Samantha attempted to cover her huge breasts again, but a harsh command advised her against that. The guards lead her down the hallway and into a large freight elevator. She sensed the elevator going up. A few seconds later, the elevator dinged and the door opened. She gasped at what she saw. A large circular area opened up before her, filled with people. Naked men on the left, equally disrobed women on the right. They were surrounded by similarly dressed guards much like her captors. They were watching over men and women in lab coats attending the nude figures. Each nude figure was in a separate cubicle of sorts, separated by plastic sheeting, seeming to make for a sterile environment. They were being given pills and injections of some type. It was too much for Samantha to take it. "Wh...What's going on here?!" she whispered softly. Her only answer was a quick tug on her leash as she was lead through the circular space and down another concrete hallway. This hallway had long recesses cut out on either side and she heard content moaning and the sounds of pleasure wafting towards her. Her mouth hung open to this new sight. With men on the left again, and women on the right, she saw what amounted to human cow herding! The men were facing the hallway, as were the women. All had ball-gags strapped firmly into their mouths. The men were of varying races and ethnicities, and seemed to be in top physical condition. They were locked onto X shaped bars bent at there crossing about 70 degrees. The X bars were padded and looked fairly comfortable. The men had mechanical vibrating dildos being plunged in and out of their asses over and over again! The dildos were of different thicknesses and the speed of the anal intrusion was also different from male to male. Their balls were encircled by a thick metal ring, which stretched the sacks downwards about 1 to 2 inches, with red and black wire leads leading off of it. Their thick, rock hard cocks were encompassed by a vacuum tube that was whisking away the continuous supply of cum that was leaking out of the unseeing eyes. She knew enough about male anatomy to understand what was going on here. With no direct penile stimulation, and the dildo's ramming their anal passage and rubbing their prostates, they were being milked! Samantha was horrified, but felt a familiar wetness creep between her creamy thick ebony thighs, and extra thick droplets of milk formed from her breasts. Her eyes followed the tubes as they lead into collection chambers of one pint each, of varying degrees of fullness. As one male's collector reached fullness, a green light switched to red, and attendants come to uncouple him from the strange milking contraption, and his collected fluid was carried off into the unknown. As he left, a new male was brought in, and hooked up to the forced milking machine. As she turned her gaze to the right, she saw women in similar positions to the men. Women, again of varying race and ethnicity, where hooked into a different style of milker. Placed in the same bent over X bars as the males they faced from across the hall, their plight was soon apparent. Again, thick vibrating dildos pulsed in and out of their anuses with varying speed. Additionally, hung below the first pole, was an additional dildo plunging into their obviously sopping wet, bare pussies. The moans in the air simultaneously repulsed and excited Samantha's overwhelmed senses. The X-bars positioned both females and males in the perfect position. Legs spread out, torso bent slightly forward, arms locked above the slaves' heads. In the males case, the position allowed easy access to their hanging cocks, in the females case, it was their hanging bosoms. All the women had varying body types, none too fat, but varying degrees of skinniness or plumpness to all. The one unifying factor for the females was they all possessed large, heavy milk filled breasts! The smallest breast size seemed to be a D cup, attached to one very thin, very dark skinned black girl close to Samantha, who mewed a sound of lust and pleasure towards her thicker, lighter skinned body. Attached to her nipples, and just fitting over her pitch black areola's were two glass tubes under what seemed to be heavy, painful vacuum pressure. A constant thick stream of milk gushed from several places off her dark nipples, which were stretched almost 2 inches downward into the tube. Spraying down the thin glass tube, the streams coalesced into smaller plastic tubes, which lead up to one gallon collection containers, which where almost half full already. Samantha quickly turned away. Looking down the line of moaning women, she noticed a thick white girl, somewhere between the line of plump and fat. Her thick pussy lips seemed to be sucking her giant plunging phalluses, much thicker than any of the other girls, with some degree of wanton. If her decidedly plump body was of any concern to anyone, it was quickly lost as her massive 40KK breasts swung to and fro, shaking as the larger white woman seemed to approach orgasm. Samantha noticed a slender vacuum tube protruding about six inches outward from the thick folds of her pussy. Inside the glass tube was her stretched clitoris! Pumped out a full two inches from her body, it bobbed back and forth as her twin stuffed ass and pussy were pumped by the dildos at high speed. Samantha looked back to the white woman's gigantic breast flesh, and saw each melon wrapped extremely tight by hemp cording, tracing up six inches from the base of her chest towards her nipple. The ropes wound tighter and tighter as they traveled towards her nipple, forcing the milk faster into the vacuum collection devices, while the loss of blood flow turned her once white tits a deep purple color. Whip marks covered her heavily tortured tits, and angry red lines on her back indicated similar treatment. The suction tubes seemed to cranked up to maximum pressure as well, as her thick teats were stretched a full three inches down into the narrow chamber. Each tube lead to three gallon containers, a 300% increase from the smaller breasted slave Samantha just gazed upon! Noticing no other ropes, clit tubes, or whip marks on the other girls, Samantha knew something bad must have happened to her. The guard yanked Samantha back into reality with a tug of the chain. He lead her through the rest of the hallway and eventually into a spacious office. Once inside, the lead guard unattached her leash, and then left. The other two remained inside, next to the door. Samantha was left alone for the moment, and decided to look around. There was a large desk, and several chairs. On the walls were large flat screen HDTV's being used as monitors for several areas of the underground camp. It must have been underground, she thought to herself, there were no windows. The screens showed the area she was just in, as well as the prison block area she awoke in. Others showed outside work places, where there seemed to be a garden, with almost naked slaves working the field, an unoccupied dungeon style room, and some other undetermined rooms about the complex. Samantha started to feel nervous again, when a door on the back wall opened and a large black man walked in. "Slave, you will kneel on the floor in position one, NOW!" he barked. "Sir, please.." she started to beg. "Please let me go, this is all a mistake, I just want...." She was cut off with a slap to her face by the man. You will address me as sir." The unknown man spoke . "I will only ask you one more time." Samantha, summoning her strength, burst forth, pointing furiously "Now listen to me, you fucking freak! The cops will be all over my disappearance, and you dirt bags are getting shipped off to fucking Git-mo, you terrorist ass mutha-fu...!!!" Her curse was brought to a quick close as the guard butted her head with his gun. "Now shall we try this again?" spoke the man. "Put her in slave position 1!" With that, the guard picked up the stunned girl. Placing her butt on her feet, he spread her knees wide. He pulled her hands behind her and placed them in the small of her back, which forced her chest out. There she sat, stunned and confused, her pink pussy exposed, no longer covered by her coarse pubic hair, brown outer lips peeled back, showing the world her wet, pink snatch. Her heavy breasts hung down and to her sides, as her nipples produced a droplet of milk. "This is slave position 1, remember it! Now, that I have your attention" the man continued, "You will be trained as a sex slave, as well as produce milk for sale and various uses. Your condition makes you unique, as we will not have to spend much time forcing the right amount of lactation to occur. You are quite a lovely catch! I'm Mr. Dixon, by the way, one of your new Masters. You will comply, or suffer the consequences." The Bank Samantha spoke out again, her senses returned "You mean consequences like those men and women out there!" Mr. Dixon laughed, "Hardly my pet, those women are enjoying what is happening to them...well say for slave Mariah at the end there, but her punishment is only minor, a small punishment for a small misdeed." Samantha was in shock. "You call her...her...her torture a minor punishment!" "Yes, slave, you will learn that there are far worse things that can happen to a slave here at the Bank!" with that he turned to walk out of the room. Before leaving, he turned and spoke to the guards. "Take this new slave to see Ms. Chase for initial training." Samantha called out to him "Wait, please, what is happening? Where am I? What do you want from me?!" but it fell on deaf ears. The door shut and Mr. Dixon was gone. The two guards opened the door to the office that they originally came through and pushed her roughly outside. The third guard was there with her leash again. They lead her back through the hallway, past the insane scene that she witnessed earlier, and back into the elevator. Pressing SB1, the door closed, and the elevator descended down, lower than the floor she had been kept on before. The door opened up into a single, large square room, of similar concrete structure to the rest of the facility. This room was decorated with a decidedly different purpose in mind. Samantha's gave looked about the room. There were rings fixed into the ceiling, floor, and walls. A standard X bar was propped up near the center of the room, as well as a wooden horse, a stock with holes for arms, head, and feet, and a low, flat table. The walls were adorned with nipple clips of various types, such as alligator teeth, rubber tipped, and clover clamps, among others. Also hanging were a variety of dildos and vibrators, from small, slim simple ones, to fat, long, metal studded monsters, in a wide assortment of colors. There were ample amounts of medium to thick rope, as well as thinner cords, all of various length. Whips, floggers, paddles, as well as some type of electrical wiring hung from the cold, smooth walls as well. Samantha looked around in terror. "What is this sick place?!" she cried out with no small measure of incredulousness. The guards remained silent. A door in the back of the room soon opened, and a light skinned black female exited, wearing long black latex gloves that went up to mid bicep, as well as black latex boots that extended to mid thigh. Her hair was long and straight, pulled back into a simple ponytail, dangling down to her mid back. Her C cup breasts were exposed, and stood firm out from her body. Finishing off her attire was a red and black corset that ended just above her waistline and just below her pert tits. Around her waist was some type of thong-like attire, with an attachment at the front, but for what, Samantha did not know. The new woman was first to speak. "Hello, slave. I am Mistress Chase, and you will address me as such. You will ask no questions, and do as I say swiftly, or suffer the consequences. You are here to do my bidding, do you understand slave!" Samantha flared up angrily yet again. "You evil fucking bitch! You let me go right this instant!" Mistress Chase quickly walked over to Samantha, grabbed her hair, pulled her head back, and viciously slapped her swollen brown milk bags. Samantha cried out in pain and tried to push her attacker off, but the guards were quick to hold her arms. "Your struggling and disobedience will earn you a good punishment! You are not starting off wisely, slave!" stated Chase. "Move her to the center of the room!" As the guards pushed the poor girl into position, Mistress Chase grabbed a ball gag and rope from the wall. Once in the center of the room, Mistress Chase grabbed Samantha's head, and forced the large pink ball gag into her mouth, strapping it securely behind her head. With Samantha sputtering and drooling behind her gag, Chase quickly secured rope between the d-ring links in her arm cuffs then upwards to a ceiling ring. Pulling the slack taught, Samantha's arms were hoisted overhead, and secured. Her heavy brown breasts raised up with the rope and jiggled as she tried to maintain her balance and composure. Next, the cruel mistress attached rope around the d-rings on each ankle cuff, and pulled them apart to awaiting rings fixed in the floor. Pulling the rope tighter and tighter, Mistress Chase soon had the slave's legs 4 feet apart. Samantha was shaking her head from side to side and trying to push the gag out with her tongue. The futile effort earned her a sharp slap on each of her perfectly round ebony ass cheeks. "I told you not to resist you dirty little slave! You'll soon learn, though!" Mistress Chase smirked. Walking over to the wall, she selected two clover clamps attached to one another via a link chain. Walking back over in front of Samantha, she asked, "Do you know where these go, slave?" Samantha just looked on, dismay in her eyes. She knew instinctively where they would go, right on her thick, sensitive, milk spilling nipples! Mistress Chase walked closer to Samantha. The new slave could feel the breath of the taller woman. Mistress Chase bent down and started caressing and gently kneading the slave's heavy hanging breasts. "Before I attach these fun little clamps to your insolent slave nipples, I think I will have a taste of your motherly juices." Samantha's eyes widened. This cruel woman was about to suck out her milk straight from her tits! She started quivering as Mistress Chase brought her full lips to the already hardened nipples of Samantha. Wrapping them firmly around her fat, brown nipples, she sucked mightily. Samantha moaned deeply behind her pink ball gag as her milk was drawn into the mouth of this dominatrix. As the sensation swept over her, a sense of depraved lust started to fill her mind. What was happening? She wasn't a lesbian, she never even had any bisexual experiences or thoughts before in her 27 years of life! Yet she could feel her clit pulse gently and her own slick lubricant start to form in her pussy. As Mistress Chase moved to the other nipple to repeat the process, Samantha gave way fully as her juices started leaking out of her cunt down her thick yet firm legs, and a pleasurable sigh escaped her lips. Mistress Chase did not miss this small sign of her transformation from good citizen to good slave. Taking her mouth off her second nipple, she stood back up and looked down into Samantha's eyes. "Mmm, you have very rich, sweet milk, slave. And it seems you like being touched, even by a woman, don't you slut?" Samantha nodded slightly, without thinking, lust starting to take over her mind. "I see your already excited and ready to go." Mistress Chase's eyes traced down from Samantha's cute face, over her massive, milk-dripping, 38HH ebony breasts, over her flat tummy, and down to her cunt, where juice was flowing down both sides of her well spread legs. She took a finger and wiped it across the sides of her pussy, careful to avoid any direct contact with it and potentially cause the slave pleasure. Wiping the juice around Samantha's mouth, she said "See, your slutty juices are already pouring out of you. Your dirty twat is dying for a good fuck, isn't it? Even from a woman. You must have been denied sex for quite some time. But before I give you any pleasure, you still must pay for being a snotty bitch." With that, she draped the chain-linked clover clamps around her bound slave's neck. Going back to the wall, she grabbed several very small rings off a shelf, and some type of pronged tool. Coming back in front of the quivering slave girl, Mistress Chase spoke, showing Samantha the implements, "These are modified nipple expanders and the expansion device that we use to put them on. Normally, they are used to enhance the size and thickness of a nipple, but these are different. They are extra tight and strong, and are designed to prevent your milk from escaping. It is far too precious to have spilling everywhere when your dirty cunt gets too horny...or when I decide to abuse those lusciously meaty udders of yours!" With that, she took the applicator and slipped the first ring on. Pulling back on a lever, the prongs expanded open, wide enough to slip over even Samantha's fat nipples. Placing it over her right teat, she pressed in to the base of her areola, and released the lever, then retracted the tool, leaving the tiny ring snuggly in place. Samantha cried out in pain, as the small ring pressed tightly on her sensitive nipples. Mistress Chase quickly repeated the process on her left nipple, causing another outburst from the gagged slave. Chase stepped back and smirked, happy with her handy work. Samantha twisted and turned, attempting to shake the tight rings off, but to no avail. A quick, small droplet of milk escaped each breast, and that was the last of it. Samantha quickly realized her plight was going to get worse. She hadn't been able to pump out her breast milk for at least 30 hours, judging by how tight, full, and heavy they felt. Now with the rings preventing even the slightest amount of leakage, she was going to be in pain very quickly as the pressure of the milk built up. Even in tits as massive as hers, there was only so much room for expansion, and Samantha produced a huge quantity of milk as it was already. Still, even though the rings hurt, she still felt an intense sexual desire building inside her, as her pussy continued to drip its feminine lubricants. "I'm not done with your fat udders yet, slave!" stated Mistress Chase. "Now that I'm sure no more of your milk will be lost, these lovely clover clamps can now adorn your tits!" Samantha had forgotten about them! She begged pleading with her eyes and made all sorts of unintelligible noises. Mistress Chase was having none of that. Removing the clamps from around the slave's neck, she reached for a heavy brown teat. Samantha tried to swing and rotate away form the evil mistress' grip, but in her position, she didn't have far to go. Angrily, Mistress Chase roughly slapped her face and grabbed her left tit, squeezing it painfully. Samantha gasped at the increased tightness in her udders as the milk tried to escape her nipples to no avail. "You little bitch! This will not be tolerated! You thought the clamps were going to be bad by themselves, just you wait, you filthy cunt!" She planted the first clamp squarely on Samantha's left tit, then deftly repeated it on the right one. Samantha screamed as the harsh metal clamps bit into her soft, tender nipples. Mistress Chase laughed, "Oh this is nothing, things are about to get worse for you!" Going back to the wall, Mistress Chase grabbed more rope. Attaching it to the D-ring on the front of the slaves collar, she ran the other end loosely through a ring in the floor. Motioning to one of the guards, she told him to loosen the rope holding the slaves arms above her head. Once done, Mistress chase pulled the rope on the floor taught, dragging Samantha's brown body into a slightly hunched over position, and tied it securely. The guard re-tightened the rope around her arms, pulling them back up slightly, putting light pressure on Samantha's shoulders. The slave was now more than nervous, feeling very exposed in her new position. "Now, for the coup de grace," spoke Mistress Chase. Going back to the wall, she grabbed a blindfold and two 1 lbs weights with carabineer attachments. First, she blindfolded the unsuspecting slave, then grabbed the two weights again. "One thing you should know. Clover clamps grip tighter the more force that is pulled against them. Perhaps after this little lesson you will start to show some reverence for me!" With that, Mistress Chase deftly hooked the first weight onto the chain connecting the harsh clover clamps and let the weight hang down. Samantha shrieked behind her pink ball gag as the heavy weight tugged on the clamps, causing them to close even tighter on her sore, dark nipples. Her massive brown breasts were stretched closer to the floor, causing the misbehaving slave to gasp and struggle to catch her breath. Mistress Chase simply grinned and applied the second weight. It was almost too much to bear for poor Samantha! The heavy weights now pulled her breasts even farther and forced the clover clamps to completely flatten Samantha's tortured nipples, eliciting a frantic shriek from behind her thick, gag-filled lips. Further compounding Samantha's pain was the ever-increasing internal pressure of her milk inside her already full breasts. Constrained by the evil milk stopping rings and the enormous pressure on her highly sensitive and thick nipples exerted by the clover clamps, there was no way it was coming out at all. Mistress Chase new this, and roughly grabbed Samantha's tits at the base and squeezed mightily, forcing the milk downward towards her nipples! Samantha let loose a muffled scream as her nipples tried to expand with the milky fluid and let it escape but to no avail. "If even the tiniest droplet of milk escapes, your punishment will be severe!" exclaimed Mistress Chase. Samantha could barely even comprehend what she was being told anymore, the sensations were overpowering her senses fully, she could only feel the harsh clamps biting into her nipples, even as her milk laden breasts begged for relief. Even so, the building desire in her cunt spoke of an untold desire begging to be released. Mistress Chase knew exactly what was going on inside of Samantha's head and more importantly, between her legs, and let go of her sore breasts. The resulting loss of grip made her tits move ever so slightly, but the mass of the weights caused quite the intense pull for Samantha's poor nipples, which were crushed ever harder for several long moments until the swinging stopped, eliciting another groan, although this time the sound was not all pain, there was a hint of lust floating through the air with it. Samantha, still blinded and gagged, could only drool despairingly and listen to the sounds around her. Her current position was starting to become uncomfortable, but any shifting around on her part would only increase the torment on her big melons. Chase walked around behind Samantha, and started inspecting her ass. "Quite the round rump we have here!" Mistress Chase said, giving it a quick slap. Sam's ass jiggled in response, and she grunted in pain as the weights swung again, pulling heavily on her pained nipples. Mistress Chase continued, "This hair will have to go, however! We need unfettered access to that dripping cunt of yours!" With that, the Mistress used one hand to spread apart her thick brown ass and the other to run a finger from her tiny sphincter down to her clit. Samantha's pussy was slick with juices, matting her coarse pubic hair. When Chase flicked her clit, Samantha wriggled all over, as a hot flash radiated outward from her now rock hard pink bud. "I see we have a sensitive little slut today!" Mistress Chase giggled. "Now to clean you up, permanently!" Samantha heard footsteps retreating, only to return shortly. An electric buzzing kicked on, and Sam knew she was about to be shaved, her womanly fur removed in an instant, like a sheep! She trembled as the Mistress shaved her pubic hair completely off, from its start at her waistline all the way up to the crack of her beautifully round ass. "Now, to ensure we don't have to deal with this nasty slut hair of yours ever again..." Mistress Chase voice trailed off as she reached for another tool, "Electrolysis! Quick and painless, we'll have that hair gone forever! Now stay very still!" Samantha obeyed as Chase completed her task, not wanting to risk injury or Chase' wrath. After a short period, she finished the process and wiped the slave's pussy with a warm, wet rag to remove any extra hairs. Pronouncing Samantha clean, Mistress Chase walked off again. Samantha heard her footsteps approach once again, this time back towards her head. Mistress Chase removed the blindfold and ball gag. Sam blinked hard several times, her eyes not used to the light, and worked her jaw loose. Mistress Chase squatted down in front of her, and Samantha saw what was going to happen. Chase's odd looking underwear had really been an attachment point for strap-on dildos! It now hung with an 8in long, 1in diameter smooth purple cock. Chase spoke again, "There now my pretty pet! Relax that jaw of yours, you'll be needing it soon!" Looking into Sam's eyes, she saw they were fixated on her rubber phallus. "Oh don't worry about this little thing, this is only a trainer, you'll get much bigger ones later on!" Before Samantha could even speak, Mistress stood back up, and positioned her cock at the entrance to Samantha's mouth. "Now lube this up with your spit, you tramp! I may decide to push this into your ass later!" Before Sam could even form a protest, Chase had rammed half the phallus down her tight throat. "Suck it good, you little bitch! Get it good and wet for your pussy! If you do a good job I may skip fucking your ass...for now!" Samantha gulped hard, realizing the hopelessness of her situation. She tried her best, but she could not deepthroat the fake cock even with Mistress shoving it hard against her throat. As the cruel mistress crammed it down her mouth, Samantha gagged and gurgled, sticky, thick saliva poured out of her mouth, running in rivulets down her chin, throat, and eventually falling onto the floor in a messy pool. "That's...good..my..pet" Mistress Chase grunted as she rocked her dark brown hips back and forth, pumping the phallus deeper and deeper down her choking slaves tight throat. "But not good enough!" exclaimed the Mistress. With that, she grabbed Samantha's head and jerked her hips forward, forcing the entire length down her exhausted throat with a resounding pop and slurp! Samantha tried to scream but couldn't! "Take it slave, and like it!" grunted Mistress Chase, and continued to pump the fake cock deep down Samantha's throat, attempting to stretch it out for better use in the future. After several seconds, Mistress Chase pulled out of Samantha's throat and stood back, looking on her gagging and spitting victim. Smiling cruelly, she repeated the brutal throat fucking over and over again. Satisfied with her work, she walked around behind Samantha, positioning the dildo with one hand on the now bare folds of skin surrounding Samantha's cunt. She slid the cock up and down her slit, revealing in the humiliation she was inflicting upon her slave. Samantha moaned as the head of the phallus passed over her almost painfully hard clit. "I see someone's slutty little pussy is ready for a good fucking? Tell me what you want slave!" barked Mistress Chase. Poor Samantha's head was swimming. Here she was, tied up, breasts bursting with unescaping milk, nipples crushed past the point of describable pain, about to have her first lesbian encounter ever, and she was dripping wet with lust and excitement! She mumbled, "Please take me Mistress" What she got was a sharp slap on her luscious brown ass. "Speak up slave, and tell me exactly what you want me to do to your dirty cunt!" Samantha gathered what little resolve she had left and blurted out, "Please fuck my dirty cunt with your big strap on Mistress Chase, make me cum, pleasseee!!!" she begged, while starting to sob uncontrollably. "God, you're a dirty fucking whore, begging me to fuck your dirty pussy!" exclaimed Mistress Chase gleefully. "Here it comes, slut!" With that, Mistress Chase eased the purple head of the cock into Samantha's wet, tight and willing cunt. Sam let out a deep, animalistic groan as the object passed into her wet, pink vaginal hole. Gripping her hips, Mistress Chase pushed with all her might, and the strap on, dripping with saliva, combined with Samantha's oozing pussy, sunk the last 7 inches deep into her hole in one smooth motion! Samantha shrieked in pain and pleasure! She hadn't had anything penetrate her in so long, it felt mind-numbingly good, yet the long absence of sex had many her very tight, and the 8 inch dildo stretched her violently. Mistress Chase stopped after the first plunge, her smooth brown skin pressed tightly up against Samantha's bent over asscheeks, dildo buried the full 8 inches into her tight, unused cunt. Samantha wiggled and groaned, impaled on the purple intruder, her cunt lips trying to suck the entire thing even deeper into her pussy. "I see you're enjoying this, slave! We'll you cant have pleasure without some more pain, so here we go!" Mistress Chase proclaimed evilly. The Bank Chase started pumping Samantha's stretched cunt with gusto, steadily increasing her pace, as she gripped Sam's hips tightly. The increased speed caused a steady slap, slap, slapping of brown skin on brown skin. This in turn caused the heavy weights clipped to Sam's sore nipples to swing violently back and forth! The clover clamps just crushed together ever tighter with the increased pressure, causing poor Samantha to cry out in pain, even as the purple dildo was pounding into her cunt, causing frothy pussy juice to churn up and leak out of her, oozing down her thick, brown legs. Mistress Chase was fully into it now, sweat forming on her pert, firm C cup cleavage. She relentlessly pounded in and out Samantha's spasming cunt, relishing the screams of pain and lust escaping Samantha's mouth. "Take it, you dirty fucking slut!" Mistress Chase yelled at the pitiful slave, viciously slapping her ass. She continued to pump into Samantha, watching her outer pussy lips move in and out, gripping the dildo tightly, showing brown skin on the outside on the inward stroke, and showing her light pink inner skin on the outward pull. The weights continued to pull relentlessly on her tortured tits, and her nipples were on fire from the intense pressure, yet still Samantha felt a rapidly growing sensation inside her pussy. A fire was building, magnified 100 times by the pain radiating from her breasts and from the overworked and overstretched walls of her pussy, unused to the intruder that continued to pound it. Samantha was pouring sweat out of every pore, and it dripped profusely onto the floor. Mistress Chase had an animalistic look on her eyes, as she continued to pump into her slave, as her strap on extended into her own wet pussy, and she too was approaching climax. For several minutes, the furious pace of Mistress Chase's pounding fueled the fire inside Samantha's cunt, until the dam broke and Samantha screamed bloody murder as she exploded into the largest, most earth shattering orgasm of her life! Her cunt spasmed so hard it momentarily stopped Mistress Chase from fucking her slave anymore, and Samantha squirted hard! Huge streams of female ejaculate gushed out her urethra and splashed against the floor. Sam was still screaming loudly when she finally released her vaginal muscles enough for the Mistress to continue pounding into her. As soon as she resumed her thrusting, Samantha started on a long wave of orgasms that over took all her thought processes. Nothing mattered to her anymore, just cumming. Not even the pain in her aching breasts, whether it be from the pressure of the milk wanting to escape her tits or from her poor clamped and weighted nipples, only her rolling orgasm mattered. Chase continued to pump into Samantha for another five minutes, finally shuddering and collapsing onto the back of her bent slave, her sweat dripping tits crushing into Samantha's equally sweat soaked back, her orgasm having overcome her at last, the strapon still lodged firmly in Samantha's tight orifice. After a minute went by of just heavy breathing, Mistress Chase pushed up off her now well-fucked slave, and pulled out the dildo, now dripping with female juices. Walking around to Samantha's mouth, she held the dildo in front of her lips once more. "Now suck your whore juices off this dildo and make it good and clean again!" commanded Mistress Chase. Samantha, too spent from orgasming and too tired to resist, opened her mouth in offering, and Mistress Chase deftly shoved it back down her throat. Samantha didn't gag as hard this time, as her throat was previously stretched by the brutal throat fucking. With long, sloppy strokes of her tongue, she cleaned the phallus from tip to base. Satisfied, Chase untied the rope keeping Samantha's head and torso pulled down, as well as the rope in from the ceiling to her wrists, allowing Samantha to stand upright for the first time in almost an hour. Samantha groaned as she stood upright again, wobbly from the orgasm and the width of her still spaced out feet, hands still secured together behind her back. The harsh clamps and weights were still attached, now pulling her massive tits downwards, her nipples now a purplish black color from the long confinement. Mistress Chase stood right in front of her. "You did very well slave, and you came beautifully! Nothing in our files indicated you were a squirter! You will most certainly be a lovely new edition here!" she smiled genuinely. Samantha could barely think, but had to ask a question. "Mm..Mistress? May I ask a question, please?" she squeaked out. Mistress Chase frowned, "Well, you have been a good slave for awhile now, go ahead." "Mistress, please, please remove these nipple clamps!" Samantha cried out. The post orgasm bliss was rapidly fading, and the tortured pain from her tits was building again. Mistress Chase thought for a moment, then spoke again. "Yes, I suppose it is time. You have suffered enough, for now." She walked closer to Samantha and first removed the weights and placed them back on the wall. Samantha gasped in relief as the clamps loosened their grip as the weights came off, and her stretched breasts bounced upwards towards their normal resting position, ending just below her rib cage, and just onto her tummy. Chase walked back in front of Samantha, "This part will hurt a bit more, my pet." Samantha just nodded and braced herself. Mistress Chase then proceeded to pinch the middle of the left clamp, releasing it from Samantha's tortured nipple. Samantha screamed in pain as blood rushed back into it. The mistress then did the same to the right nipple, eliciting another scream. Mistress Chase leaned over and grabbed the bottoms of Samantha's brown, heavy, milk-swollen breasts and brought them up to her mouth, gently licking and sucking on them. Samantha had tears rolling down her cute face as the harsh mistress sucked on her beyond sensitive thick, crushed nipples, and life slowly flowed back into them. However, the milk stopping rings were still on, and Samantha's nipples could only re-inflate so far. "Please mistress, please take the rings off too!" sobbed Samantha, aching for relief. Chase shook her head no. "Sorry my little slave, all the milk trapped in those massive tits of yours will not be wasted dripping onto the floor or some nonsense. I'm afraid your milking will have to wait till tomorrow." Mistress Chase stood back up, kissed Samantha on her cheek, and summoned for the guards. "They will clean you up and get you something to eat and drink. You will need your rest for tomorrow!" The guards came closer, untied her ankles and wrists, rubbing them briskly to restore blood flow after such a long session. Reattaching the leash to her collar, they lead her out of the room, back to the elevator, all the way to her cell. Unclipping the leash, they roughly pushed the disheveled girl into the room and attached her padded leg iron to the bolted down bed frame. One guard produced a water bottle from his pack and tossed it on the bed. Samantha could only look up wearily as they turned and left, locking the cell door behind them. Sam reached for the water and downed all of it, laid down on the bed, and immediately passed out. Well, that's the end of the first chapter. I decided to just dive right into the immoral escapades. If you want a little more sustenance to your fair, my apologies. This may not be for you. Feel free to comment folks!