5 comments/ 16444 views/ 9 favorites The Journalist By: kjane The desire for success can create scenarios in life that are unpredictable and have consequences that defy one's willful intent. In the last year and a half, I have become acquainted with the ramifications of desire intimately. It all started after I graduated from college. I had earned my bachelor's degree in journalism with a concentration in broadcast communications, and I was hoping to start my career as a journalist with a television station in the western part of the US. The job market was competitive, so it took a while to find work, but eventually I was able to secure a job at a news station in Idaho. The position required that I move from California, but I was okay with making the transition. In fact, the change of scenery was refreshing. The most difficult part of working at the news station was adjusting to the hours. We would broadcast in the morning, at noon, in the evening, and at night. I ended up working the morning shift, although it felt more like a night shift, as it was from 3:00 AM to 11:30 AM. I have never been a morning person, so it was a difficult adjustment. My dream was to become an anchorwoman on television, but as a new employee, I was a long way from achieving that goal. I basically started at the bottom rung. My first job was to write and proofread stories that would be read on the teleprompters by the anchors during the broadcasts. I would write the stories that would be read over the air from 5:00 AM to 7:00 AM as well as prepare stories for our broadcast at noon. I also did various other tasks, such as arrange interviews, answer phones, and follow up on leads for new stories. The job was okay, but what I really wanted was to be on camera. Occasionally, I would have the rare opportunity to do an assignment outside of the studio, although it was always to cover crappy situations. For example, any time there would be a major storm involving freezing rain or snow, my boss would send me out into the elements to stand on a bridge and give a brief report stating the obvious: that is, it was fucking cold! Such assignments sucked, but they did allow me to get on camera a little. However, I was never given any stories that were of major importance. The people with whom I worked were supportive, though. The anchors for our morning broadcast were Natali and Tim. Natali, in particular, became an important influence on me. She was in her late thirties and had been an anchor for fifteen years, including at some large regional stations. She really had it all: the smarts, the looks, and the delivery. I marveled that she could just walk in and, with little preparation, make things look effortless. She was a total natural on camera, and I envied her talents. She was exactly who I wanted to be. Her partner Tim was also quite good. He was in his late twenties, but had a seasoned way about him that I admired. He was handsome, articulate, and a perfect partner for Natali. They looked great on camera together, and I enjoyed writing for them. Within a few months after my arrival, we had the highest rated morning news program in the area, which made me feel somewhat proud, even though I wished things were better in terms of my duties. Although our ratings were great, I soon started to feel as though my role at the station was becoming somewhat stagnant. I was not getting enough assignments that allowed me to be on camera, which upset me. I enjoyed the writing, but I really wanted to be on television. Eventually I mustered enough courage to discuss the matter with my boss Marcus. I flat out asked him if there was another shift to which I could be transferred. "Julie, I respect what you are saying," he muttered, "but we don't really have any more opportunities for you to do television work right now." "I'm not asking for an anchor position," I said. "I'm just asking for maybe an assignment that will allow me to be on television every couple of days." Marcus simply rolled his eyes and shook his head. "The only opening we have right now is for a weekend meteorologist. If you had a meteorology degree, I'd put you in front of the camera in a minute, but you don't. You'll just have to keep working in the office as a writer. But don't worry, you'll get your chance to be on camera eventually." I didn't say a word in reply, because it was of no use. I simply went back to my cube and continued to write about the random stories of the day. I also stewed about what Marcus may have thought about me. I never could quite get an accurate read on him, and I think it was more than a racial or cultural thing. He was in his forties, successful, and was an important figure in the local black community, but he always seemed to be somewhat aloof around me. What was weird is that he never seemed to act that way around some of the other reporters, especially the prettier white girls in the office. He would always be joking with them and almost doting on them. It was odd. I was one of the only white girls whom he didn't seem to like. What the fuck was his problem with me? Later that morning Natali came by to say hello and see how things were going. "Do we have any breaking news this morning, Julie?" she asked. "Not really," I replied. "It has been pretty slow. But, hey, can I ask you something?" "Sure." "Has Marcus ever indicated to you that he doesn't like me?" I asked. "No," replied Natali. "What makes you say that?" "I don't know," I said. "I came here to be a reporter on television, but he seems to want to keep me chained to this desk. I don't think he likes me." Natali pulled up a chair and sat down in front of me. "The news business is tough, Julie," she said. "It can take years to obtain an anchor position. Just be patient. You'll work your way up the ladder." "It feels like I'm in a rut, not on a ladder," I replied. "Do you have any advice for getting on Marcus's good side?" She looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds. "You know, Julie, you do a great job. You really do. But . . .," she paused. "But?" I said. "But you need to learn the ropes of the business," she said. "Succeeding in this business requires making connections with people." "What do you mean?" I asked. "I shouldn't even say this, but I will," she said. "As a woman in the news business, you need to look and act the part." "I don't get what you are saying." "I'll put it bluntly then," she said, exhaling deeply. "You have all of the smarts, Julie, but you need to work on your looks. To be a top television reporter, you need to look fuckable." I was a little shocked and slightly offended by her comments. Quite frankly, I had always been told that I was attractive, and I worked hard to stay in excellent shape. Sure, maybe I could have worn more makeup and the like, but I thought that I looked good. "So you think I'm too ugly to be on television? Is that what you are saying, Natali?" I asked somewhat angrily. "Not at all," she replied. "Not at all. You look beautiful, but you need to know what guys like. This goes not only for the male audience to whom we are reporting, but the guys in the office too." "So what do you mean by that?" "Listen, girlfriend," she said. "There is a double standard in this industry. Take Tim, for example. He got the anchor job right out of college based on his abilities and his merits. He is a guy. The industry views him as a guy. For girls, it is different. Being smart and proficient as a reporter and journalist isn't enough. You need to be smart and, for a lack of better words, be a little bit of a turn-on. Press a few buttons, you know?" "Maybe I got myself into the wrong business then, Natali," I replied. "Hang in there, hon," she said, reaching out for my hand. "Things will be all right. I can take you under my wing, if you like." I had no idea what she meant, but I didn't ask for clarification. After she left, I thought about my future or lack thereof. Maybe I did need to spruce myself up and be a little more flirtatious at the office. It wasn't my style, but hell, I could see it happening all around me. It seemed like all of the other girls in the office went out of their way to please Marcus, in particular, and it seemed to work for them. They were getting better jobs and assignments, whereas I was having my responsibilities decreased. Over the next few months, things gradually became worse. I went from writing about the news to being damn near demoted to an administrative assistant. They had given most of my writing tasks to a college intern named Tonya, whom we had recently hired. She was perky, flirty, and agreeable to a fault. She pissed me off, to be frank. While she was taking over my former duties, I was making copies, answering phones, ordering office supplies, and running various errands for others. It sucked. I was about ready to quit the job and return to California, but I needed the money, so I decided to hang in there. One morning (or night, as it was 4:00 AM) I had to get a few reams of paper for the copier, so I went down the hall to our supply room. As I approached the room, I heard what sounded like people talking, but as I got nearer I could tell that it was not talking, but moaning. The door was slightly ajar, and I quietly stepped toward it and peeked into the room. What I saw blew my mind. There, on a mountain of copier paper about three feet high, was Natali bent over and getting fucked doggy style by our boss Marcus. I couldn't believe it. She was going to be broadcasting on the air in about an hour, but somehow she had the time to schedule a few morning orgasms before she did. She was in full makeup and fully dressed from the waist up, with her blouse buttoned and her pearl necklace swinging back and forth with each thrust from Marcus. From the waist down, she was totally naked. Other than their soft moans, the only sounds were the subtle smacks of flesh on flesh. They had no idea that I was standing ten feet behind them. I had never seen people fuck in front of me before, and it was mesmerizing to watch them. Natali is a tall girl-about six feet-and her hips, ass, and legs had an attractive fullness to them. She was quite beautiful, as was Marcus. His black hands were thick, stubby, and were dug into to the sides of Natali's white ass, as he worked her pussy with intent. For a black guy, he had a short dick; it was about four inches tops, but it was thick and curved upwards. I could not help but think that it would be perfect for hitting the g-spot. Within a minute or two, Natali, who was jilling her clitoris while she was getting fucked, moaned huskily to her first orgasm. With her mouth agape and her face crimson red, she looked so vulnerable. Marcus kept on fucking her, though, and in about three more minutes Natali moaned to yet another orgasm while Marcus emptied himself into her sex. For the rest of my life, I will never forget the sight of him pulling out of Natali and seeing the slit between her legs oozing white. After their climax, I scurried from the doorway and went back to my cube. I acted like I was working, but in reality I could only think about what I had just witnessed. I felt flustered, aroused, and nervous. Recognizing that I was too mentally frazzled, after a few minutes I went and bummed a cigarette from a coworker and went on a break. Outside, in the darkness of the early morning, I let the nicotine wash through my system and calm my nerves, while I tried to process what I had just seen. I was shocked that Natali fucked our boss, because she was happily married and had three kids. To cheat on her husband was something of which I did not think she was capable. It was just flat out wrong on so many levels. When 5:00 AM came around, I was back in my cube, watching Natali and Tim broadcasting the morning news on the television monitor on the wall. It was odd to see her so professional and composed, when only an hour earlier she was receiving multiple orgasms courtesy of our boss. She must have still been a mess between her thighs. I decided that when the time was right, I was going to talk to her about it. It took me about a week to muster the courage to bring it up. I decided to ask her out for a bite to eat, to which she agreed. We were both done with our shift that day, so we went out to a nice Mediterranean restaurant to have some calamari and wine. "So how are things going, Julie?" asked Natali. "I haven't seen that you have been writing much for our morning show lately." "No, I think I have been phased out to some extent," I replied. "I'm not sure why. It has got to be Marcus. Hey, what do you think about him?" "He's okay," she said. "We seem to work well together." Of course you do, I thought, thinking about seeing her getting worked over doggy in the supply room by him only a few days earlier. I could have brought the whole topic up right then, but I decided to wait a little. "You do seem to get along with him. What is the secret to staying on his good side?" "I don't know, Julie," she said. "You just have to stay focused, do a good job, and make things easy for him, so he doesn't have to feel like he needs to supervise you." "By the way, just as a side note, I was thinking that he is kind of cute. What do you think?" I asked. Natali seemed to be a little taken aback by my question, but nevertheless answered. "Yeah, I guess that one could say that Marcus is cute, if one is into his type." "I just mention it, because he seems to flirt with some of the white girls at the office, especially Tonya, and some of them flirt back. I wonder if that is what keeps them in his favor." "What are you getting at?" asked Natali. "Well, I don't flirt with him," I replied. "I wonder whether that is what is preventing me from advancing at work. I remember you telling me that I needed to 'act the part' and all of that a few weeks ago. So how do you do it?" "Julie, you are young and new to the business," she sighed. "I'm not sure whether to chat about certain things or just leave them unsaid. You will eventually figure out things as you go along. But as I mentioned earlier, this business is a game: you have to learn how to play it." I decided it was time to pull the trigger. "Okay, then let me ask you this, Natali: to make it in this business as a woman, do you have to fuck your way to the top?" Upon hearing that, Natali damn near choked on the wine of which she was taking a sip. She looked at me with her eyes squinted, deep in thought. She ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass as though her thoughts were orbiting a series of words that articulated truths that she was not sure that she wanted to reveal. "Julie, giving favors doesn't hurt," she said pointedly. "I know a lot of girls who have done it. It has helped their careers, okay?" "I already knew that," I replied. "And I already knew that you knew that." "Huh?" "Natali, I saw you fucking Marcus in the supply room last week," I said. "I watched you for several minutes as you both got off with each other. Was he good? Better than your husband?" She looked as though I had hit her with a sack of bricks. "Okay, let's get it all out in the open," said Natali, exhaling deeply. "Marcus and I fuck about twice a week. There is nothing emotional there; it is just sex. I also know that he fucks some of the other girls too. He loves to fuck white girls. What do we get in return? Good marks on our performance appraisals, periodic raises, and job security." "So basically you have to fuck him to do well at work, right?" I asked. "I don't know about that, but like I said, giving favors doesn't hurt," she replied. "Does your husband know?" I asked. "I've met him, and he is a nice guy. How could you do this to him?" "Julie, he doesn't know. This is the third network for which I have worked, and to be honest, I have had sex with my superiors all along the way. What has it gotten me? A six figure salary, Julie. I know that my husband would be hurt if he knew, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him. And he appreciates the money that I make," she said. It was obvious that Natali saw her career as one that required giving sexual favors, and who knows, maybe she was right. Perhaps it had given her a very successful career as an anchorwoman. She also confessed that sometimes she had threesomes with Marcus and her co-anchor Tim. "And you are like totally okay with this?" I asked. "Like, really, getting fucked at work?" "Julie, you just go with it," answered Natali. "Nobody fucks anyone against their will. If I tell Marcus or anyone else that I'm too tired for sex that day, they are okay with it. But, quite frankly, who doesn't like fucking? Who doesn't like orgasms? Who doesn't fantasize about variety? Not every cock hits the same spots, you know." After we finished eating, I left to go back home. My mind was buzzing with the things that Natali had said. I thought about whether or not I could ever "go there"; that is, fuck a coworker for professional gain. At the time, the answer was decidedly "no." But as the days and weeks passed, the topic would resurface in my consciousness. I would see other girls getting promotions, and think about whether they had to fuck somebody to earn them. I would see Marcus or other guys flirting with the female interns, and wondered whether they were doing more behind the scenes. Quite frankly, I was becoming a little paranoid and defensive. At the same time, I continued performing my mundane tasks at the station and struggling to pay my bills. Things were not going well. They even became worse once Marcus called me into his office to give me my first performance appraisal. "Julie, come take a seat," he said. "It is time to review your performance appraisal." I sat down nervously as though I was being called into the principal's office. I knew that things had not been going well at work in recent months, so I feared the worst. I could feel myself getting warm, as though I was about to break into a sweat. He quietly handed me a copy of my appraisal to review before discussing it. "You can see that you are meeting some of the expectations of the position, but there is some room for improvement," he stated flatly. "We have gradually moved you away from writing and reporting to doing more administrative work, because we have an ample supply of interns at the moment who are better suited for those duties." "Well, what specifically am I doing wrong?" I asked. "I didn't spend all of those years in college to make people coffee, you know." "I know," he replied. "I get that. Although your education is admirable, you still don't come off as polished as some of the other people we have here. You also need to develop a better rapport with the others in the office. We have to work quickly in this business, so working well with others is essential." "I feel like I get along with people pretty well, Marcus," I said defensively. "Nobody has mentioned to me that they didn't like my work." "Well, maybe not to you directly, but I've heard the rumblings about you," he replied. "Some of the staff here has told me that you seem a little introverted and aloof. You don't seem to be into hanging out with the rest of us at potlucks and social meetings. Although those things may seem trivial, they help build a sense of teamwork." I was starting to get a little upset by his commentary. "So I'm getting shitty marks because I don't attend potlucks. Is that it?" He rolled his eyes, and then rose from his chair and made his way towards me, until he was standing directly behind me. Without even asking, he began to rub my shoulders as I sat in the chair. "Just calm down, Julie," he said softly. "Really, calm down. You are being a little tense. Let me help you relax." The Journalist "I didn't say that you could do that," I said. "It is inappropriate." After saying that, I let him continue, because it did feel good. Since I did not have a boyfriend, I had not been touched by anyone in months. His thick fingers felt lovely. "Just be quiet for a minute and relax," he said. "You don't need to have an attitude." I didn't respond immediately. I simply sat there and enjoyed the massage that he was giving me. It felt lovely. I let him continue for a minute or two before stating, "You know, technically this can be considered sexual harassment in the workplace." "It depends on your perspective. It also depends on your attitude," he said, before pausing. "Let me just say that you are a pretty girl. You are smart. I want you to do well here. I want you to succeed. You may not think that I like you, but I do. I think we can be friends." "I don't want to be your friend. I just want to be your employee," I replied. "I just want to come here and do my job, and nothing more." "I have two copies of your performance appraisal," he said. "I have the one that you just saw, and I have one that is a revised version, with somewhat higher marks. Which one would you prefer?" "Well, the one that is the most truthful," I answered. "What are you getting at?" "I don't want to have to put you on an action plan. I think that if you open up a little and become more of a team player, we can upgrade your performance, but I need at least a verbal commitment that you are willing to do that." "I don't know what you are talking about, Marcus," I replied. "What do you mean?" "Hey, I'm having a little get together this weekend at my place. Some of the others from work are coming. How about if you join us? It will be a good time to discuss business in a relaxed setting. Will you come?" I thought about it for a moment before responding. "And this will allow me to have a better appraisal?" "It will help," he said. "Think of it as a team-building exercise." The whole conversation was highly uncomfortable, but eventually I stated that I would go. If it would help to change a few opinions about me, it would be worthwhile. *** On the day of the gathering, I felt a little nervous. Tim and Natali were going to be there, as well as a couple of others. Tonya, the intern who had taken over most of my reporting duties, was also going to be there, as well as Nick, who was a recent new-hire straight out of college. Tonya was short and fit, with a perky demeanor that kind of irritated me, as it helped her look good on camera, which enabled her to land some good reporting jobs. I had little doubt that she would be hired full-time once she graduated. Nick was our traffic reporter. He was actually a sports nut, and hoped to be a sports reporter one day, but for the time being he was happy to be on camera talking about the traffic every morning. His good looks were punctuated by a goofy sense of humor, and I admit that I liked him from the moment I first met him. He was single, but I never had the nerve to ask him out. I'm one of those types who feels uncomfortable asking guys out. When I arrived at Marcus's house, everyone was already out on the patio, enjoying mixed drinks and telling stories about work. The atmosphere was light and casual. "Well, hey, welcome, Julie," said Marcus as I made my way towards the others. "I'm so glad you could make it. Can I get you a drink?" "Sure," I replied. "Can you mix me a margarita?" "No problem," he said. "Come inside and I'll show you around." Marcus mixed me the drink and proceeded to show me around his large house. It was beautiful. His kitchen was gorgeous, with custom counters and a large area around which people could sit while people were cooking. His living room was lovely too, as it was a large, open space decorated with leather couches and a wide-screen television. On the walls were beautiful paintings that were generally abstract or impressionist in style. I didn't know that he was an art collector, but it was impressive to hear him discuss the paintings in detail. His intelligence was one of his many attractive qualities. He then took me down towards his basement, which had a strong smell as we got nearer. As he opened the door, I could see several rows of plants that were all underneath an extensive lighting system. Holy shit, I thought, he grows pot. "This is my little hobby," he said. "I've been into hydroponics for a few years now. You know, I never smoked pot much when I was young, but I find that it is my drug of choice as I get older. I used to drink quite a bit, but the hangovers became tougher to overcome. Now I just like to have a smoke to relax." I made a few comments about how nice his setup was, because, quite frankly, I wasn't sure what else to say. I had smoked pot a few times in high school, but that was several years ago. After chatting about it for a few minutes, we made our way back out to the patio to meet up with the others. Over the next hour, we chatted about work, relaxed, and continued to enjoy our mixed drinks. Although I was initially a little uptight about coming to the party, I soon found myself having a good time. Additionally, everyone seemed to make me feel welcome, which was nice. Tim was sitting next to Natali, and they were almost rubbing shoulders with each other. Tonya and Nick were both a little looped from the booze, but that just made them display a youthful silliness that we all found amusing. I also couldn't help but notice how attractive everyone was. At work I am often too busy to really take it in, but in this casual social setting, I was reminded by how gorgeous everyone looked. I wondered if they felt the same about me. Eventually Marcus and Tim went inside to cook some large slabs of salmon, while Natali and I prepared the salad. The dinner that evening was fantastic. We laughed, told jokes, and truly enjoyed one another's company. I felt a closeness to them that I had never felt when we were working together. After feeling somewhat alienated at work in recent months, I felt like a member of their club—that I was finally being accepted. Even Tonya, who was always a little shrill with me (and vice versa), seemed to open up and enjoy my company. Yes, I was having a nice time, I must admit. After dinner, all of us returned to the patio, where Marcus appeared with a bag of weed and a pipe. We passed the pipe around the circle, taking deep hits, and got progressively stoned. I had to stop after about four hits, because it was going straight to my head. Tonya and Natali also stopped after a few hits. Nick and Tim, however, looked like expert smokers as they inhaled the rest of the contents of the bowl. They even reloaded it and went another few rounds. Natali and I joked that we should rename them Cheech and Chong for their exploits. Natali took a picture of them with her phone, which, in my questionable state of mind, I felt was hilarious. We were laughing so much that we didn't even notice that Marcus and Tonya had disappeared. "Where's Marcus and Tonya?" I asked to no one in particular. "I don't know," replied Nick. "They must be inside." "Let's go inside too," said Natali. "It is getting a little chilly out here." "Sounds good to me," I answered. "It may be almost summer, but it is Idaho. For the life of me, I will never get used to the temperature in his region. I will always be a California girl." We made our way back inside, where we heard some soft jazz music playing in the living room. As we entered the room, we could see that Tonya and Marcus were making music of a whole different sort. Marcus was sitting on a black leather couch, with his pants down to his ankles. On all fours, in between his legs, was Tonya, who was skillfully running her tongue up and down his stubby, black cock. Even with being stoned, the sight of them was shocking enough almost to make me feel sober. Marcus looked over at us and smiled casually. "Does anyone want to join us? We have plenty of room." All of us were speechless. We stood and simply watched as Tonya sucked him greedily. That there was a twenty year age difference between the two made for an odd visual. Natali eventually took my hand and led me to one of the other couches, where we sat down and watched with rapt attention. Nick and Tim did the same. For the next few minutes, we watched as Tonya gradually brought our boss near the brink, before bringing him back down, as though she was edging him with her tongue. I was a little amazed by her talents, actually. I looked over at the guys, and their eyes were glazed and shimmered like fire. Nick was rubbing his cock through his jeans, and Tim had already unbuttoned his khaki pants and was stroking his cock under his underwear. Tim, in particular, looked so sexy. I was so used to seeing him composed and professional, and it was a thrill to see him heat up with desire. I tried not to stare at him, but it was hard not to. I could feel myself getting turned on just by the sight of him. I didn't know what to think about all of this. I knew that people were fucking on occasion at work, but outside of seeing Natali and Marcus fucking in the supply room months earlier, I didn't really know who was doing whom. I thought about leaving at that time, but if I did, the others would have labeled me as a prude. That was the last thing that I needed, so I sat and continued to watch. Tim eventually got up and made his way towards Tonya, who was still on all fours, nursing on Marcus. Tonya was wearing a black skirt with white stockings, and her position made the fabric taut around her hips. Tim carefully rolled the skirt up her thighs and over her ass, so it was bunched around her waist. She didn't even look back to see who was doing it; she just continued to lick Marcus's shaft. Tim then pulled down her stockings, which revealed the thick labia in between her thighs. After licking his fingers and palm, Tim slowly started to massage Tonya between her legs, causing her to emit soft, deep moans. Perhaps it was an involuntary response, but she spread her legs slightly wider to accommodate him. After massaging her clit and labia in a circular motion with his hand cupped, he slid a couple of fingers inside of her, to which she arched her back in approval. I looked over at Natali, who was sitting on the couch with me. She had one hand inside her blouse, rubbing her left breast. Her other hand was inside her silk panties, rubbing her clit. Her jeans were half way down her legs, and her shoes were still on, at least for the moment. On the other side of the room was Nick, who had his cock out in the open and was stroking himself to the visual in front of us. After finger fucking Tonya for a few minutes, Tim took off his pants to expose his beautiful cock. It was average in length and girth, but it looked lovely. He got on his knees behind Tonya, who backed her ass right up to him. After running his cock along her juicy slit a few times, he penetrated her slowly, and within a few strokes he was deep to the root. His muscular hands gripped the sides of her ass as he pumped her pussy in a steady, even rhythm. Seeing Tonya get spit-roasted was something else. I was never going to get that image of her out of my head. The thing about it was that she was not a particularly good roast. As soon as he started getting fucked by Tim, her blowjob technique on Marcus started to deteriorate. "Fuck, T., no teeth, no teeth," huffed Marcus. "Just take your mouth off of it, if you need to, but no teeth." It was clear that Tonya could not give good head while she was getting fucked, which was funny. Inwardly, I loved that she had inadvertently given Marcus a few toothy bites. That fucker deserved it. Natali soon kicked off her shoes and jeans, but still kept her panties on. She leaned over and whispered to me, "Come with me." She then led me by my hand to the kitchen, where she had left her purse. She reached inside and pulled out a couple of contraceptive sponges. "Here," she said as she handed me one. "Take down your pants and put one of these in." I was hesitant to do so, quite frankly. I didn't mind other people fucking, but I did not come there to participate in that activity. "Natali, I can't," I replied. "Go ahead and indulge, but I'm not going along with it." She looked at me with a mixture of disapproval and disbelief. "Julie, you have to fit in, honey. Just go along with it. It is just playing." "No, I really don't want to go there, Natali," I said. "This really isn't my scene." She continued to talk to me about loosening up as she took off her panties. She then went to the sink, put a few tablespoons of water on her sponge to activate the spermicide, folded it up, and inserted it deeply into her vagina over her cervix. She briefly felt around to make sure it was in place. "Julie, just do this once. Really, it will not be bad. Think about how this might help your career." "Natali, I'm not really into fucking people from work," I said. "If you and Tonya want to go that route, it is up to you. But I don't want to do that." Natali was absolutely incorrigible. She took the sponge that she gave me out of my hand and proceeded to make her way to the sink. She was going to get it ready for me, whether I wanted it or not. "Take off those jeans, hon," she said flatly. "Now." "I'm not going to take off my jeans," I said. She then stopped and looked at me coldly. I could tell that she was really upset with me. It was like she was throwing daggers at me with her gaze. "I'm doing you a favor, Julie," she said with exasperation. "It may not feel like it, but I am. Don't make me kick your ass right here in the kitchen." I was taken aback by her comment, because it was so out of character for her. It was a threat, and I could tell that she was serious. She really was going to fight me. Literally. I thought about it for a few seconds and acquiesced. I was either going to get into a fight or get fucked. I decided to go with the latter. Besides, I had not been laid in about a year, so maybe it would be all right. "Okay," I said. "I can't believe I'm doing this." I unbuttoned my jeans, slid them off, and folded them neatly on the kitchen counter. I then lowered my white cotton panties and stepped out of them. "You look good," said Natali, as she looked at my pussy. "Can I touch?" "Go ahead," I said. "Just know that I'm not bisexual." She ran her index finger up my slit a couple of times, which sent shivers down my spine. "You're wet, babe," she said. "That's good." I didn't say anything in reply. Of course I was wet. There was the equivalent of a live porn show going on in the living room. Duh. I hopped up on the counter and took the contraceptive sponge that Natali had prepared for me. In my prior sexual encounters, I typically had guys use condoms. Using the sponge was new to me. I fumbled with it awkwardly before getting it inside me. Still, I wasn't totally sure it was in right. "Natali, can you reach in and feel if it is in right?" I asked. "Sure." After sticking her fingers deeply inside me, she said, "It's in. You got it right." When she pulled her fingers out, they were covered in a thin mucus that had the consistency of egg whites. She touched her sticky fingers together and, smiling at me, said, "You are ovulating, aren't you?" "Yeah," I said. I didn't have to tell her that when I'm ovulating that I'm randy as hell. She knew. Natali and I proceeded to make our way back to the living room. We both still had our tops on, but were naked from the waist down. Once we entered the room, the eyes of the guys lit up like diamonds in sunlight. Marcus, Tim, and Nick all looked at us lustfully. Tonya was on the couch, sitting up, giving Nick head. Marcus was sitting and watching. Tim was sitting back on the couch with his cock totally limp, but shimmering from Tonya's juices. They had finished fucking while we were in the other room. "So what happened with the threeway?" asked Natali. "Did we miss the finale?" "The finale is dripping from between her legs," said Tim proudly, as he motioned towards Tonya. Indeed, he was right. As she was giving Nick a blowjob, we could see semen dripping from Tonya's well-fucked pussy and onto the leather couch. Tim obviously creamed her good. I wish that I could have seen it. I sat back down on the couch and watched Tonya blowing Nick. Without having to multi-task, she was able to give him good head. Natali watched for a few seconds, and then took off her blouse and bra. Her full, mature figure looked beautiful. (I so want to look like her when I become her age.) She then walked over to Marcus and planted a deep, sensual kiss on his lips. His cock was as limp as a wet noodle, but as they made out, I could see his penis gradually spring to life. It was sexy to watch. Seeing her white skin against his black body was beautiful. After kissing for a few minutes, she had him lie on his back, after which she turned around on him in a sixty-nine. The ebbs and flows of their movements were so effortless and natural. Having had sex with each other at work frequently, they obviously knew what each other liked. It was the kind of knowledge to which only lovers are privy. I looked over across the room at Tim, who smiled back at me. He was still sitting there, sipping a cocktail, recovering from his orgasm, and enjoying the sight of Marcus tangled with Natali, and Tonya sucking Nick. It was not too long thereafter when Nick huffed deeply and Tonya choked a little. The muscles in Nick's ass tensed and I could see his balls twitch as he delivered forth. Tonya opened her mouth wide and let his seed drip from her mouth as quickly as he was pumping it in. Evidently she was not the type who swallows. The semen dripped from her chin and onto her small, perky tits. At the same time that Nick came, Natali got off of Marcus and reclined on the couch, with her hips hanging over the edge. Marcus got in between them, and carefully parted her pussy lips with his thick, short dick. He banged her hard as she jilled her clitoris. Within a few minutes Natali came. With her mouth agape and moaning deeply, she turned beet red as her legs trembled in ecstasy. I'm no lesbian, but seeing her come was hot. It was like she was out of her body; it was so beautiful. Marcus continued to fuck her, but she pushed him off for a minute. "Let me catch my breath," huffed Natali. "Just give me a few seconds." Marcus pulled out of Natali and looked over at me. He initially didn't say a word; he just looked at me, with his hard cock in his hand. He stroked it softly while looking at my pussy. The seconds ticked like hours. He finally asked, "Can you take off your top?" I pulled off my shirt and then unfastened my bra. Marcus gave a wry smile upon seeing my tits for the first time, and continued to stroke himself. I looked over at Tim. He too was looking at me and playing with his cock, but he was half-limp. "Want to?" Marcus asked me. I knew exactly what he meant. He wanted to fuck. I looked over at Natali, who was still on the other couch. Her legs were twitching and her hair was a mess. Still, she gave me a wink of approval as if to say, "Go for it." Somehow I had gotten myself into this situation whereby it was inevitable that I was going to fuck my boss. Sure, I was aroused, but I knew this was all wrong. But I remember what Natali said to me months earlier when she stated, "Who doesn't like orgasms?" I thought that maybe I should think of it simply as sex and nothing more. Yeah, that would be good. It might even be really fun. With that in mind, I motioned Marcus to come over to where I was sitting. When he arrived, he bent down to give me a kiss, but I put my fingers over his mouth to stop him. The Journalist "No kissing, Marcus," I said. "We are not lovers. No kissing." The cologne that Marcus was wearing was electrifying to my senses. He was delectable. As we looked into each other's eyes, he reached down and dipped two fingers inside of my pussy. I was creamy and ready for coupling. I thought about how I wanted him. I was not comfortable with fucking him in the missionary position, because I didn't want to have that close of a connection to him. There is something about looking someone straight in the eyes while fucking that is akin to seeing into the window of a person's soul. I didn't want to go there. I just wanted to fuck him in an enjoyable, yet somewhat less spiritual manner. I got off of the couch and got on all fours on the floor. "Marcus, from behind," I said, raising my ass upwards invitingly, while rubbing my pussy. "Oh, Julie, that's a good girl," he said, as I backed up to his cock. "God, I love white pussy." I closed my eyes as his black, bulbous head split my pink lips and he began to thrust. He felt really good. Although his cock was only four inches long, it hit all of the right spots. He knew how to make a pussy purr. It had been so long since I had been fucked that I had almost forgotten how good it felt. With his hands on my ass, and his balls slapping against me, he worked me beautifully. It felt so good that I nearly forgot that a roomful of people were watching us. The world could have ended and we wouldn't have noticed. We were completely one. It was not more than a couple of minutes later when I had my first orgasm. Marcus continued to fuck me, although he slowed the pace for a couple of minutes while I recovered. A few minutes later, he picked up the pace, and I could feel him become huge inside of me. I knew that he was about to come. "Fuck me," I whispered, "Oh, fuck me." Within seconds I could hear him moan loudly and feel his cock pulsate inside me. That sent me into yet another orgasm. He rammed into me hard about two dozen times, and then collapsed on my back, with his cock still leaking seed into my pussy. I reached back and held his sweaty body on top of mine. He stayed inside me until his member softened and popped out. We were not lovers, or even good friends, but we just had really, really good sex. After regaining my senses, I stood up and scooped some of the jizz out of my pussy. I wasn't too worried about it, because Natali had given me contraception, but I did hope that my cervix was covered and that the spermicide was stopping those little swimming bastards that were inside of me. We all took a break and had a couple of more drinks. Marcus and Tim also took a few more hits from the weed pipe. It wasn't long thereafter when things became sexual again. Tonya, that insatiable bitch, got fucked again, but this time by Nick. Natali got fucked by Tim. As for me, I was done. I enjoyed the orgasms, but I was done. I watched for a little while, before getting dressed and going home. *** A few days later we were all back at work, doing the morning news. It was somewhat of a weird vibe, but in some ways I did feel closer to the people with whom I worked. It was during that first morning back that Marcus called me into his office. "Hey Julie, take a seat. I just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes," he said. "No problem. What is going on?" I asked. "I just wanted to thank you for coming over the other day. I had a good time. I hope you did too." I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. I really didn't want to revisit the details of the other night. "Yeah, it was nice," I simply said. Marcus then handed me a copy of a revised performance appraisal. It promised me a 7% raise along with listing my goals for the next six months. They included having me doing field reporting daily. "I was wrong about you last week," he said. "You are more outgoing than I thought. I think your personality would transfer well to camera, so we are going to be putting you on television more often." I was thrilled by this news, but I knew why I was being given those additional duties. "It is because I let you fuck me the other night, is that it?" I asked. "I don't like to think about things in those terms, Julie," he replied. "Your job is separate from that. However, I will admit that knowing a person deeply can affect one's opinion about that person." "Deeply, huh?" I said. "As in like four inches deep?" Marcus shook his head and laughed. "You are a funny girl. By the way, I think that you liked every inch of it, by the way that you received it, so don't tell me otherwise. But seriously, what I meant is that I've learned a little bit more about you. I misjudged your character. You will do well here." "The other night was a one-off encounter, Marcus," I said. "You are not going to fuck me again. I'm not going to play that game anymore." "Well, then we'll leave it at that for the time being," he stated. "But things can change. Oh, things can most definitely change." I gathered my performance appraisal and started to make my way out of the office, but Marcus reached out and grabbed my arm. "You are the best that I've ever had," he said curtly. I didn't say anything in response. I just nodded and walked out. Immediately after our meeting, I was given more responsibilities at work. In addition to being on camera more, I was also writing more stories and doing some investigative reporting. It was fantastic. My dream of having a successful career in broadcasting was coming true. Everything was perfect except one thing: a couple of weeks later I missed my period. It scared me shitless. I immediately called Natali for advice. "Natali, I've got a problem," I said. "A big problem." "What's up?" she asked. "I'm late. Really late. I think I might be pregnant," I said nervously. "Oh, my. Other than Marcus, have you fucked anyone?" "No, if I am preggers, it has to be him," I said. "I'm thinking that the sponge you gave me didn't work that night." "Oh shit," said Natali. "I'll be right over." When Natali arrived, she had brought a pregnancy test with her. I took it and waited anxiously. I was so anxious, in fact, that I was on the verge of panic. The news was not good: it said that I was pregnant. I was not going to accept that as a final answer, so I had Natali accompany me to the doctor's office, where I could take a different test. The results were the same: I was pregnant. *** I am currently six months pregnant with a biracial baby whose father is my boss. I still do not know whether I should put the child up for adoption, or perhaps think of him/her as an unplanned blessing. (I have asked the doctors not to tell me the sex of the child before birth. I want it to be a surprise.) I have not told Marcus that the baby is his. I'm not sure that I will ever tell him. Some dilemmas are not black and white. The Journalists I started in the participation journalism business because of my wife. Of course we started back before we were married. We met in college and quickly realized that we were soul mates. The fact that she was so easy on the eye certainly helped My wife is beautiful, long auburn hair, porcelain complexion. Fabulous legs and great tits. I won't lie, her looks opened a lot of doors. She started working for "Participation" magazine even before we graduated. Because I am handy with a camera and many of the adventures related by the magazine required partners I ended up being hired by the magazine shortly after Ruthie. I'm sure you have read at least one of out articles. Our journalists participate in events and give first hand commentary on what its like to skydive for the first time. What its like to cliff dive in Acapulco, run with the bulls in Spain, everything under the sun. The editors also like adult themes, as those sorts of stories can double or triple circulation. The fact that Ruthie is game for anything means that among other adventures, we have gone as a couple to a nudist colony, served as maid of honor and groomsman at a nude wedding, and posed for an adult calendar. The stories feature Ruthie's exquisite first person narratives and my tasteful photographs that SEEM to reveal a lot more of her flesh than they actually do. A new editor had come on in recent months and she really got pumped by the circulation spike "Participation" had after Ruthie and I wrote about our adventures at the world's largest strip poker tournament. Ruthie was a much better player than I was . She could hold her own against the pros My photograph of her on the cover of the magazine clad only in her underwear was a best seller and Ruthie even sold the movie rights to the story to Hollywood. The magazine got a hunk of that money as well which, of course, thrilled the editor. Ruthie got a fat raise and the editor got a big idea. Barb called us into her office. "Ruthie, Jim!" Have a seat." She said in a voice that was falsely honeyed. "I love the piece you did for the September issue, our readers have ordered so many extra copies that we had to order another press run and the digital downloads! You two are a big reason why this magazine has such a great bottom line. Which started me thinking." Ruthie and I braced ourselves, Barb's mind can go in some wild directions. "The two of you work great as a team but I think i can get two stories out of our next venture, that is if you are game. What do the two of you know about the BDSM community?" Ruthie said, "You mean whips and chains and collars? That sort of thing." "Precisely!" said Barb wearing a smile she hoped would look sincere. It was my time to speak up. "Look Barb, we have done a lot of things for this magazine but I'm not about to turn my wife over to some bruiser with a whip and a bad attitude." "Hear me out." Said Barb. "First take a look at this check." She displayed a check from a major Hollywood studio It was made out to both of us and the amount of zeroes on the check made our heads spin. "Don't get too excited this particular check is a dummy but I have the letter verifying that a real one will be issued to the two of you once you turn in your stories. Your deadline is three months from the end of this month. That gives you a couple of weeks to do your homework.. Each of you will tell the same story from your respective genders. The studio is so excited by this story idea that they bought the films rights from the magazine even before the story has even begun to be written. This check is your share of the movie rights. I'll be honest with you. This story could support this magazine for the next three years without even having to sell a single line of advertising. That is, of course, if the two of you are willing." I looked at Ruthie. She met my gaze. I spoke for both of us. "What do you have in mind Barb? No bullshit! Tell us what hair brained scheme you have in mind. No surprises. Lay everything out. If we can accept the terms, we will do your story." Barb looked into our eyes, exhaled and began her tale. "I have been contacted by members of the local BDSM community. They like our magazine and they like you two. They feel that our magazine will give an honest portrayal of their community. Like all groups who are considered outside the mainstream, there is a great deal of misapprehension of what their community is all about and how they operate. What they propose is a two part story, one part told from the male perspective and the other from the female perspective of a two month voluntary entry into a submissive relationship. In simple terms Jim. Ruthie you will be collared slaves of a male and a female dominant. You will have to do EVERYTHING they ask of you for two months. You spend the next month after that writing your stories and the check is yours." "The representatives of the BDSM community feel that they have found suitable matches for the both of you. They also want to assure you that neither of you will be permanently marked or scarred. Both of you will have a safe word that must be obeyed immediately. It WILL involve a great deal of sex, especially for you Ruthie but the two of you are promised patience and gentility. However, obedience IS expected and you MAY be compelled to obey if you are recalcitrant." Barb began breathing regularly again and faced us, a forced smile on her lips. I looked at Ruthie, she looked at me and things got very quiet. After five years of marriage I am very good at deciphering my wife's moods. I could tell that she wanted to talk this one out. I felt the same way. I asked Barb to leave us alone in her office while we talked. The subsequent conversation was the most heartfelt of our marriage. Ruthie prides herself on her bravery and her willingness to take ANY story, especially ones that brought her outside her comfort zone. This story would require infidelity. We had done stories before that had left us stark naked in front of strangers but this was a different animal. I knew that if I were given a slave that looked like Ruthie for two months, I would fuck her silly every chance I got. Ruthie would also be entrusting me to another woman. I'm not bragging, I'm a handsome guy, six foot one, dark features and lots of muscles. Ruthie hides it well. But she HATES it when other women look at me. I on the other hand am flattered when other men ogle my wife. Ruthie and I talked for nearly an hour. Preemptively we forgave each other for our respective infidelities and spent a great deal of time professing our love for each other. We knew that whatever the two month ordeal entailed both of us would survive as a couple. We were united as we summoned Barb back into her office. When we told our editor that we would take the story, she let out a little cheer and wore her first authentic smile of the day. For the next two weeks, Ruthie and I did some research and read everything we could about BDSM. Partly as a result of my research and partly because I liked it I began referring to Ruthie as "Goddess" and she started calling me "Master." There was only so much preparation we could do however. Finally the day arrived that Ruthie and I were to report for duty. We dressed casually. We locked up the apartment, arranged to have it watched, the mail brought in, and the plants taken care of and headed to the city hotel where the BDSM convention was in its third day. Our contact was a woman named Juliet Dane. We found her in room 101. She was tall and clad in skintight leather. Ruthie and I were given a brief interview verifying that we were who we claimed to be and assuring her that we knew what we were getting into. There were clearance forms for us to sign and we were assigned our safe words. Ruthie's was "Quizzical" and mine was "Cabbage." Juliet finally confided in us. "I'm sorry for the third degree. Lots of people have so many delusions about who we are and what we do. When you boil it down we are just a parallel sexuality to the vanilla world. No better and certainly no worse than theirs. We found people that we think are perfect matches for both of you. They are just across the hall. This room is actually that of your Goddess, Jim. Ruthie will be led across the hall to her Master's room. You will be processed and collared tonight. We know that the two of you have been doing your homework. We have also been researching the two of you. A great deal of concessions will be made at first since the two of you are complete neophytes but we DO expect two bright people like yourselves to learn quickly. If you would like to exchanges kisses and say your goodbyes now is the time to do it. Once your Doms enter this room neither of you will be allowed to display affection towards your spouse." I leaned across the table and kissed Ruthie deeply, I understood that I would rarely, perhaps, never, see her for the next two months. She embraced me as best she could then she reached under the table and gave my penis two quick squeezes. She had told me that missing my cock would be one of the hardest things about this assignment. Once we finished Juliet picked up a phone and a a short time later came a knock on the door. Juliet opened the door and Ruthie and I met our destinies. He was tall and broad, with close cropped blond hair. Built something like a professional wrestler, his muscles were clearly defined by the outfit he wore also clearly defined was his enormous cock. She was a bit shorter than Ruthie, with long brown hair and a face that could have come from a china doll. Her eyes were brilliant blue. She wore an outfit that barely concealed her large breasts and accentuated her fine legs and hips. To be honest I was smitten immediately "I am Goddess Erica." She said. Even her voice was lovely. The hulking man next to her said. "I am Master Paul. You are my woman. Come." He extended his hand and, a bit hesitantly, Ruthie took it. She winked at me as Master Paul led her to the hotel room across the hall. My heart was beating hard as I saw the door close behind Master Paul and my wife. With that Juliet exited the room. The door closed once more. I was all alone with Goddess Erica. She looked at me. Eyed me head to toe and allowed a brief smile to cross her otherwise emotionless face. "Strip worm! To your skin!" I began to take off my clothes. For the first time in a long time I felt intimidated being naked. Once I was unclothed, Goddess Erica examined me head to toe, even rolling back my foreskin. I had one of the strongest hardons of my life. I could have pole vaulted with no problem at all. "Your wedding ring too big boy. You belong to me now and my collar will be the only adornment you will be permitted." Sadly I slid off my wedding ring and placed it on the table. Goddess Erica eyed my erect cock. "I see that you are eager ." She said. "That is good. I will give you relief tonight but after that you are going into chastity. You will have to earn the right to future orgasms by being VERY obedient to me I am your Goddess in that I am your superior in EVERY way. As something less than a man you are an evolutionary backwater. Only by pleasing me can you find your proper role in life. You will see to my needs, cooking for me, bathing me, dressing me, cleaning my home. You will come to relish your service to me. Later we are going to the bathroom where you will bathe. As an act of submission and a symbol of your enslavement, you will be shaved from just below your nose to the tips of your toes. You will maintain yourself in a hairless state for me. Now kneel on the floor and grovel. Confess your worthlessness and beg me to accept you as my slave." Something deep inside me responded to Goddess Erica's order. I found myself on the ground, kissing her boots and proclaiming how worthless and useless I was. I implored her to accept my miserable service. I have NO idea what came over me. After a few minuets of this Goddess Erica smiled and said, "I accept your service. Kneel before me with your head down.,". I did as instructed. I heard a drawer open and then I sensed Goddess Erica behind me. She had me raise my head and then Goddess Erica slid a leather collar about my neck She closed the clasp and sealed it with a small padlock. "On your feet slave." She said. "You no longer have a name, I will choose one for you once I have gotten to know you better. That door leads to the bathroom. March yourself over to it." In the bathroom I was instructed to fill the bathtub. I noticed an array of razors and other hair removing devices upon the vanity. Tonight I will be removing every hair on your body. From this day forward you are responsible for maintaining it in a pristine hairless state. For those places that you can not reach, you may ask for assistance from your Goddess. Were we in a long term relationship and not just one of two months you would pay to have your every hair removed by laser. We will have daily inspections, if I find any trace os stubble you will be punished. I favor a ping pong paddle for minor infractions. As for major infractions? Well let's just say that you should believe me when I tell you that you do NOT want to commit a major infraction. Is that clear slave?" I was still experiencing the hardest erection of my life. What the hell was happening to me? I found myself beaming and replying, "Yes Goddess!" Once the tub was full Goddess Erica arranged her utensils and began lathering me up. Her touch was like electricity coursing through my body. I'm not the most hairy guy in the world but my hair is dark and obvious. It looked very strange when Goddess Erica had finished with my left leg. Hairless it felt very strange. It took Goddess Erica several hours to completely depilate me. At last she had me stand and had me towel off. My pubic hair was all that remained. We retired to the bedroom to remove that. Goddess Erica had me lie on the bed on my back and then she fastened me to the four corners of the bed with leather cuffs. My erection never faded as Goddess Erica ever so slowly and tantalizingly shaved away every trace of hair. While I was still immobilized, Goddess Erica took a long look and my eager shaft and said, "I haven't forgotten about this. I will give you release and then you get introduced to your device. Ordinarily you would be allowed to cum only once a month. I have been known to keep slaves in chastity for much longer periods of time. As a concession to this being a short term enslavement and, in light of the fact that the BDSM community has high hopes for the quality of this article; you will be permitted to come an average of once a week. That is IF you are an exceptionally good boy." With that her small left hand neared my crotch. I felt her cool lacquered fingers encircle my shaft. Her hand job was out of this world. When I came, I practically exploded into the towel she had ready. It was easily one of the best orgasms I had ever experienced in my entire life. Goddess Erica looked down at me and smiled. "As you can see, I am very talented slave. HOWEVER, mostly, when you are very obedient and submissive, your form of release will be your own hand. I generally don't fuck my slaves but I will be pegging you. You will also see me engage in sex with men as I cuckold you.. Understand something, despite being of the male gender you are NOT a man. You are my slave, my submissive. As my submissive, your sole purposes are to serve me, to please me, and to amuse me. I neither need nor do I want a fuck toy. When I DO have a need it is almost ALWAYS for MEN. You will be many things to me and you will serve me in many ways but I will NEVER see you as a man. The sooner you understand that the easier these two months will be." With that she rose from the bed and took something out of the nightstand drawer. "Let's try this on for size." She said. I watched as Goddess Erica approached my penis with a cage! I pulled at my bonds but I was fastened tight. I felt the metal cage slide over my penis and watched as Goddess Erica locked it in place. She placed the key on a chain and hung it about her neck. Only after checking the device several times and assuring herself that I was not capable of removing it did she loose my bonds. "There now my slave's brain is locked away. Only submission, humility and obedience will grant you release. Now follow me." I stumbled to my feet. To my complete consternation my little soldier was erect in his cage. To my complete astonishment I found that I REALLY REALLY liked the feeling. It dawned upon me that the two months ahead would be the most transformative of my life. I knew on an atomic level that whatever task Goddess Erica asked of me, I would take delight in performing it. I also knew that whatever else might happen over the next two months, once it was over, Ruthie and I would never live a vanilla lifestyle again. Goddess Erica had me comb my hair and then she produced a leash and led me out the door and through the hall of the hotel and into the elevator. The elevator doors opened just outside the ballroom. Ordinarily public nudity doesn't bother me. But those other times I was not hairless, collared and locked in a chastity device. I understood, even before it was explained to me that this public exhibition was meant to humiliate me. We toured the exhibits and met the various guests. Goddess Erica had me pose for pictures with her and I was told to keep silent and to pay attention as we made several circuits of the ballroom. At one point I spied Ruthie at the distant end of the hall. I could just make out that her bush was gone. I had wanted Ruthie to shave for years but the furthest she had been willing to go was a rather wide racing stripe. Seeing her now, the fact that she had never shaved for me stung a bit. It seemed to me that Ruthie was about to kneel on a cushion and preform fellatio on someone but at that moment the view became obstructed and almost immediately after that Goddess Erica tugged my leash and urged me on. Several hours later Goddess Erica and I returned to her hotel room. She ordered from room service and I acted as butler. When not tending to her, I stood at attention. Once she was finished eating. She made up a small plate for me. Goddess Erica placed my meal on the carpet by her feet and I ate while she stroked my head as though she were feeding a pet dog. By now it was very late. Goddess Erica supervised me as I prepared for bed. I was informed that privacy was the domain of free men of which I was neither. But then came the greatest part of the day so far. Goddess Erica had me undress her in preparation for putting on her pajamas. Naked Goddess Erica was unbelievably beautiful. Her breasts were amongst the finest I have ever seen either in real life or in photographs. Aside from a wine birthmark on her left hip her skin was flawless. Her crotch was thickly carpeted but nicely trimmed. Her long legs and lovely hips were firm and she was well muscled everywhere. If I was smitten with her before, now I was experiencing something akin to love. Before I dressed her in her pajamas, Goddess Erica decided to test out my abilities at cunnilingus. Now I had always been able to make Ruthie happy but I was completely intimidated by my Goddess. Despite the fact that we had known each other only for a few hours, my greatest fear in life now was disappointing her. I worked diligently. I kid you not, I worked harder on her pussy than just about any other task in my life previously. I was somewhere between the orbit of Mars and Jupiter when my Goddess came with a massive groan. "Well done slave." She said. "Well done I think we will have so much fun over the next two months." Equipped with just a blanket and a pillow, I slept on the floor that night at the foot of her bed. As I slid off to dream land I realized that serving Goddess Erica would indeed be a lot of fun. That night I had some of the most pleasant of dreams.