0 comments/ 84523 views/ 11 favorites D I By: CamLion I was decent at basketball. I could make lay-ups all day, but I enjoyed the display of power that comes from playing volleyball. I liked being the big girl in the middle. I was a middle blocker. In high school, I was told that I could play for a Division II school. I was not recruited though, and ended up playing at a community college. I guess that I was popular enough from playing volleyball, but I was not receiving the attention I always dreamed of. This made me try harder and I completely dominated my two years at this level. I looked forward to game days. Not just for the competition, but because I was able to show off my body in the tight volleyball uniforms we wear. The shorts showed what kind of butt you had: if you were toned or if you didn't work hard enough. Some girls, I thought, should have played softball, or some sport wear the uniform was more forgiving. Both my years I led the team in blocks and kills. I blamed our losses on the other girls. I was ready for more exposure, so when a Division II school came calling, I jumped at the opportunity to move up to the next level and to get away from mediocre players. I was taking my, Division I, or D I as they say, ass to the big city. I may not have been going to the highest division, but I had confidence my looks belonged there. I was not intimidated by the larger school, or by the sophistication that walked around campus. I felt my talent brought me there and that aided my confidence. During the preseason, the football players were always flirting with me, when we came across each other on the athletic complex. They thought I was going to be easy, but I had my small town boyfriend. I wasn't going to be unfaithful to him. Usually only big and clumsy players hit on me, but here, even shorter guys were coming up to me. I am 6'1", even though the coach has me listed at 6'2". I have a flat stomach when I am in season shape. Off-season I carry a little extra there, but you could only tell when my shirt is off. My long legs are muscular. I like to flex the muscles, especially the thigh ones, as much as possible when I am in set position. When I serve, I stand quiet for a moment to let everyone see the angle: lean calf, to thick thigh, punctuated by a firm and high ass. I wish I could say that my C cups were perfect. My nipples are worthy of plenty of adoration: pink and protruding. My breasts have become somewhat pendulous. I suspect it is from so much running and playing I have done. They are still full, and at 20 years old I can still wear a bikini on any spring break beach. I just wish they had not dropped from their shelf. I try my best to play the part of a star player. Before all games I get my hair and nails done. I also get a pedicure. Even though my feet won't be showing, I like the pampered feel it gives me. I usually go with a teammate or two, and we just sit there being treated like divas. From day one, I knew being faithful to my boyfriend was going to be hard. He works construction, and only has a slight idea of what college life is like. On weekends, there are parties to be seen at. When there is a football game, the partying starts early. There are so many people to be attracted to, especially girls. I had to admit to myself that I needed to indulge in something exciting. If I was going to be unfaithful, it was going to be with a girl, not some easy to find guy. Having spent so much time with my teammates, working out, showering, the occasional hotel stay, I was able to get a good idea of what was there for me to experience. And while a few of the girls were very hot, some with breasts that made me envious, they all lacked that fire, that extra something that I needed. I wasn't too impressed with my choices. I had to go outside my sport to find someone that I wanted to have my first lesbian sex with. I found that someone in a cheerleader. She was a sophomore co-captain that had gone to high school in Florida. She worked hard with her squad and worked hard in school. I usually saw her studying between halves of football games. Stacey was a foot shorter than of me. Her hair was dark brown, where mine was light brown, but her legs were muscular like mine. Her breasts were amazing to see from the side. She must have been close to a 36 C. Very high and full. Her ass, although topping much shorter legs, had that uplifted look which would have looked grand on the court. I saw in her bio that she had done some wrestling in high school. My heart tingled when I got a full view of her butt. She was doing flips and her skirt allowed an amazing view of her rear end in briefs. The only thing about her that bothered me was a tattoo that she wore on her lower back: a large butterfly. Had she led a sheltered life back in Florida and needed to spread her wings now? The first time I saw her outside of her cheerleading role, I was stretched out on the track infield, having run a couple of miles. I was wearing shorts. She walked by and looked at my thighs, but not at my face. I had already seen her at a couple of football games and a few times when the cheerleading squad practiced before or after we did. I felt we had crossed paths enough that it would not be awkward to introduce myself. I walked over to where she was stretching. She was going to go for a jog. I was thinking, 'don't do it, be kind to your boobs.' I reached her as she was bending into some sort of yoga position, her ass high and proud in the air. She was wearing nylon workout pants and a sweatshirt with the school logo. I felt nervous. I didn't like feeling that way. I wanted to seem cool. She looked up at me, but waited a few seconds to finish her stretch. She had been holding her breath and now released it. She had a very suspicious look on her face. I like the way her hair was pony tailed. She had very good skin and had a natural tan look. "Hi." I said. "My name is Roxanne." "Yes?" She answered. The size difference between us was almost funny, yet she was very confident and seemed fearless. "I just wanted to say hello. I am on the volleyball team. I've seen you at a few football games. Great work the squad does, especially that all day rain game. You were soaked, huh?" "Yeah?" She said. "You guys stayed with it all game. I was out of the rain a few times." "Thanks," she said. "I got to run some laps." "Maybe we'll... I'll see you some other time," I said. Stacey paused for a few seconds. She seemed to have left the moment we were in. "I don't know." She said as she started her trot. "I'm... There is a party this weekend, maybe I'll see you there." I said. I felt stupid. There are dozens of parties every weekend. I felt dismissed by her. I only wanted to talk to her, to see what she was like. She seemed secretive. Reserved. I wasn't sure if I had picked the right person to pursue. I had no idea what could have made her so short with me. She was unfriendly. This made me more attracted to her. I wondered if she was playing hard to get. 'How can she sense my attraction to her from a couple of glances?' I thought. That night I was alone in my dorm room. I was masturbating, thinking of how fun it would be to stretch with Stacey before a workout. I wanted her to see my muscles up close, and I wanted to be close to her when she released her breath. After I came, well, after the second time I came, I called my boyfriend. I needed to clear my head. He had been promising to come to a game, but was always coming up with excuses. "You're such a liar." I said. He claimed that he had been going to the school athletic website and had been looking up the results of my games. He wanted to know why they didn't have any good pictures of my ass on there. I told him that it is a school website, not a porn site. He seemed horny. I wondered if he had been cheating on me. He wants to make a deal: he will come to a game if I can get him some sexy pictures of me dominating on the court. He has always loved my ass and wants close-ups of it. He said he wants to compare me with pictures of the other girls too. I should have been bothered by that, but let it go. I agreed to his deal. The sports photographer for all the games was a young guy that seemed bored by his job. 'How can you be bored with me on court?' I thought. I was a little embarrassed to ask him about the pictures my boyfriend wanted, but I was sure he got requests all the time and probably had a stash of sexy pictures. I went up to him after a game, making sure no one could hear our conversation. I was nearly stunned when he told me that he already had those kinds of pictures of me. He didn't do it intentionally. The action on the court is fast moving, he says, and sexy shots get taken no matter what. "I bet." I say. I smile at him though. He seems harmless. We make arrangements for me to pick up a disc at his apartment/studio. I thought he was so sweet to want to help me. I wondered what he thought of my body. On the way to his place, I imagined him having sexy close-ups of Stacey. I had seen the way she does her splits. She gets quite a bit of height and airtime. I wanted more to see sexy pictures of her, than to see my boyfriend coming out for a game. "Hey, Jake." I say, going in to the photographer's apartment. "Roxanne." He says. "Call me Rox." "Sure, Rox." His studio area was very neat. He said everything is digital now. He let me get comfortable as he looked for the disc with images of me and other girls from the team. When he brought the pictures up on his computer, I was surprised. I looked fabulous in all but about 3 shots. 'Wow!' I thought. I looked so sweaty and intense. Muscled up. I was a little embarrassed that he had these. "Will they do?" He smirked. "More than do. My boyfriend is lonely. He misses me, I guess." "He has a lot to miss." Jake said. "Aw, thanks. That is so sweet... thing to say." I sensed Jake had all sorts of pictures on disc somewhere in his studio, but I only wanted to know about one person. I asked him about cheerleaders, particularly Stacey. I made up a story about how Stacey was my friend, and she was thinking about sending some pictures to her boyfriend in Florida. Jake started to think, then smiled. "Do you mean Stacious? " He asked. "Yeah." I said. I didn't know that was her nickname, but it fit perfect. It sounded sexy. "There is one of Stacious that is very, very, I mean very... what... well, you have to see it." He went and got another disc. "I really don't have too many of her this year. I have quite a few from last year, but this one is special. I don't know... Her boyfriend may or may not..." "Just let me see it." I said, hungrily. "O.K. Tell me what you think." He said. He opened up the file and knew exactly where to find t. I was stunned. I was in awe. I knew he picked up on the fact I was attracted to her. Attracted may have been an understatement after I saw this picture. In the picture, Stacey was in the middle of a pyramid formation. The girl at the top of the pyramid was doing the splits. One leg was resting on Stacey's shoulder, cradled by Stacey, and the other on the girl opposite Stacey. The cheerleader doing the splits had her legs wide open and Stacey was sneaking a look at the girl's pussy that was showing through the side of her panties. It was not just a glancing look. She had a lustful stare. Stacey was definitely turned on. I sensed my wetness after a minute of looking at what I was sure was Stacey's secret side. "Well?" Jake said. I had forgotten he was there. "Wow. That is so... Can you make me a print? I want to show it to her. She will find it funny." "What?' "Just to tease her. Harmless... really. I promise I won't say I got it from you. I'll tell her that I took it." I said. 'I don't know." He mumbled. "Please?" He was quiet now. I was sure he was imagining himself losing his job over something silly, but I was wrong. He was coming up with some deal for me. I knew he sensed this was serious for me. "Well..." He said. "Can I take a picture of you flashing your boobs and ass? No face." I thought, 'is that all I have to do for this picture that I will keep forever?' I wasn't too thrilled about showing him my boobs, but didn't think it so big a problem since my face was not going to be in the picture. I took off my top and unhooked my bra all in one motion. I grimaced when I felt them drop. He told me they were fine, there was no need to be self conscious about them. I covered my face with my shirt and let him take a few pictures. I felt too exposed. The lighting was very bright. I could feel him linger a while on my ass. He took quite a few. I could sense him moving around to get it from both sides. I even bent over for him. I didn't really care. I had Stacious now. "Your ass... is very perfect." He said. "I know." I said, grabbing the picture of Stacious. "Enjoy all the pictures you have... of me." I laughed. "Bye, Rox." I had a fitful night of sleep. I imagined Stacey looking at my pussy with that same stare of lust and wonderment. My dreams were uneven that night. Her face was dispersed throughout my night. I was going to confront her with the picture, maybe make a joke, then ask her if she was curious about girls. I was searching for the right phrase to use on her. In he morning I lingered over the picture a few minutes. I packed it with my books and put it in inside the folder of my first class. I was going to sneak a few looks at it, a few long looks. I was careful not to let anyone see it. I was so happy. At lunch, I sat by myself in a corner and quietly ate, while Stacious kept me company. It was a week before I saw her again. She was coming out of the locker room with her gym bag. My practice had been over earlier. I was waiting on her. I had been going over the scenario in my head. I envisioned her joining me in my curiosity to be with another girl. I approached her and asked her if we could talk. I motioned for her to go off to the side with me. She seemed reluctant but went anyway. She looked irked and not in any mood to talk. 'What's new?' I thought. We were off to the side from the trophy display cases. People were walking in other parts of the gym, but were alone. She was wearing track pants with a matching pullover, both in school colors: blue and white. "Hi, Stacey." "Yes?" She answered. Again her answer had coldness to it. I fumbled for the picture in my bag. I had it inside a notebook. " I wanted to show you a picture that I took." I handed her the picture. She looked at it, and I could sense she did not like what she was seeing. Her face grew stern. "What the fuck is this?" She screamed. Who are you to be taking pictures of me? What school did you come from? Is that how they do things there?" "I only wanted you to see it... I think... It's cool... A cool picture of you... You really look good." I was stammering. "Are you stupid? You oversized bitch." That hurt me right away. "Stacey..." I almost pleaded. "You... show up..." She stopped talking and glared at me even more. Stacey leapt at me. Her weight was not enough to take me down, but I tripped on my gym bag and before I could do anything, this little fury was on top of me. She was screaming and calling me names as she punched me. She was punching my face. I was able to block most of the blows, but a couple got through. Even though her punches were not hurting me, they still carried some authority with them. Now that I was blocking most of her punches to my face, she started to punch me in the chest. This hurt. She kept calling me a 'bitch' while she pummeled my breasts. She then snuck in a punch that landed on my chin. That was enough. I tossed her off me. I got up very quickly, knowing that Stacey would jump on me if she saw an opening. I reached towards her and grabbed her by the neck. She looked at me with rage. Her skin felt so soft. Part of me was glad for this excuse to touch her. I wasn't going to hurt her or hit her like she did to me. I tried to explain to her that I did not mean anything bad by showing her the picture. I thought it was lovely. I could tell nothing I was saying mattered to her. "I didn't mean anything... Please just calm down, Stacey. I am sorry this got to this point." I said, as I let go of her. I could see that my strength had shown in my grip. She was not going to attack me again with violence "You're so stupid." She said. Stacey spat in my face. She jumped up to be able to reach me. A nice move, I thought. The spit landed near my eyes. She turned to leave, bending over to pick up the picture I had dropped. I was saddened to see her take it. She left in a hurry. I stumbled into the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't look too bad. I had some redness on my face. My hair had been in a ponytail, so it did not look messy. I wiped off her spit. I wished there had been more. My heart was racing as I reached down into my pants and gave my pussy her juice. It felt cold, slippery, and perfect. I looked in the mirror and laughed: the star volleyball player just got her ass kicked by a cheerleader that was a foot shorter. My spirit also felt it had lost. I gathered my things and left. I already missed her picture. One of the maintenance guys looked at me funny while I was leaving. Had he seen any of what had just happened? I didn't care. The next day people were asking me what had happened to my face, which was now bruised in two small spots. I had a different answer for every one of them: 'My pimp, You know... My boyfriend got drunk and hit me... I didn't like what I was looking at in the mirror.' People just laughed. No one seemed to care too much. I went to my classes and tried to forget what had happened. I was determined to have an affair with a girl. I tried to think of the girls on the volleyball team and which ones looked particularly hot. I guess I had to change plans. The truth was that I enjoyed being hit by Stacey. It didn't feel like abuse. It felt like we were bonding in some strange way. Things stayed the same for a while. Classes took up my time and I devoted extra attention to volleyball. I was even being friendly to a couple of freshmen players on the team. I had not shown any interest in them before, feeling I was the only one that mattered on the team. So, I was very surprised when Stacey came up to me while I was sitting outside the school bookstore/coffeehouse. I was going over notes for a test. Part of me wanted her to start punching me again. "I'm sorry that I hit you." She said. "I don't know how to control my temper... I know if you had fought back it would have gotten real nasty for us." "That sounds nice... The nicest thing you have said to me. Why are you so rude with me? I just wanted to be friendly with you." I said. She seemed to drift for a moment. I wanted her back in the conversation. Stacey smiled then said, "I am having trouble accepting that I am attracted to girls. Guys, except for my boyfriend, well maybe him too, bore the crap out of me these days. I am intrigued by the idea of being with a girl. Can I say these things to you... just between us?" "Of course." I tried to sound sweet, understanding. "I can say the same things myself. These emotions are... maybe not so new, but more real now." "I've seen you around too." Stacey said. You are the new girl on campus, making a name for yourself. You play awesome. Your uniform shows off a great body. I am sorry that I called you an oversized bitch." "It's forgotten." I said. "When you came to talk to me on the track... I was... Didn't know what to say." I was flattered. All that hard work to get into shape was worth it, on and off the court. "This has to be just between us. Look at how... The difference in our sizes is..." D I Ch. 02 When I blew out my knee, I collapsed into a pile of immobility. The pain was not the excruciating, horror scream kind that I always envisioned. Everything felt loose and I was unable to support my weight. I had to be helped off the court by a couple of my teammates. That quickly, my season was over. Surgery to scope out the knee was recommended. I had to watch my team make it past the first round of the playoffs. I could not believe they were moving on without me. I was relieved when they finally lost. The thought of the team doing so well without me was unbearable. I hated myself for thinking that, but I was the leader on that team. How could there even be a team without me? Now that my athletic time was cut for a while, I was able to focus on my studies more. I had been getting good grades, but now I was excelling. For the first time, I was envisioning a life outside of sports. I figured that the following season might replace all the feelings of ineptitude, but still, I had to envision myself as a teacher now. I was working towards a teaching degree. And somewhere, the idea of being a coach some day, mixed in with all these emotions. Stacey would not return my calls, and the couple of times I saw her, she avoided me, without any compassion for me. I thought I deserved at least a bit of sympathy from her. We shared something that would remain in memory for the rest of our lives. I left a few pleading messages that ended with me sounding tearful and incoherent. She finally sent me an email, apologizing for her coldness. She said she hated seeing me go down like I did. I just remember she was at the game with her boyfriend, smiling and cuddling with him. She wrote about moving back to Miami. She was not returning after winter break. That was probably why she had the boxes stacked in her apartment. She was already planning on leaving. She said she felt lonely for home and wanted to be near her boyfriend. I tried to understand how she was able to move on and away so easily. I figured that her experience with me, with another girl, was a one-time moment. Aside from anger and sadness, my first reasoned emotion was pride. I knew that I was committed to finding love with a girl now. Stacey had failed, or had never been serious about it, but I was going to succeed. During the summer, I stayed on campus. I took one class, just to keep my mind busy, while I rehabbed my knee. I did not want to stay in my hometown. Small towns in Ohio are all the same: Boring! I had a training regimen that I tried to adhere to, even though some days I was very unmotivated. I started by doing a lot of swimming pool exercises, then, slowly moved to the track. My progress was slow, and for the first time I had lost confidence in my body to win out over everything. It had failed me. I wasn't sobbing when they carried me off the court, but inside, I knew something, some plateau, had been breached. Around town, on my free time, I would sit outdoors, just to watch girls. This was something I once had no interest in. I wanted to see girls outside of my circle. There were raven-haired goth girls that seemed unreachable. There was spoiled money strutting through downtown. There were older women that intrigued me. I had a need, especially at that point, to be nurtured. There were some athletes that I crossed paths with, and while some were very fit, and very sexy, I did not feel a connection. None of these new faces did anything to inspire me. I was attracted to some of them, but I did not want to share in anything special with them. One or two sensed me hovering, sensed me watching them, and approached me, to see if I was really serious, but I was unmoved, and let it pass. I wanted and I needed love. Only I would be able to sense its arrival. I heard through a friend back home, that my ex-boyfriend was now married and trying to do his best to start a life with his new bride. We never officially ended it. We just drifted apart, mutually coming to that unspoken good-bye. He bought a house in a neighboring town and was hoping for a family soon. I felt no anger towards him. I felt sorry for the two of them. I didn't think he was creative enough to make it work. His wife, I was told, was very pretty, but nothing like me. She was shorter and dark haired, with very small proportions. This made me wonder why he would choose someone the opposite of me. Had he ever loved me? Did he sense there was something in me that was going to make permanence impossible? I only asked these questions for future reference. I thought of that person that had had a boyfriend once, as someone very alien to me now. I started working harder, to get back into playing shape, after doing my workouts half-heartedly for too long. I felt as though I was behind schedule. During the first few practices, I knew I was not going to be the same, but needed to stay on the team. I doubted that I had the ability to deal with the rejection of the coach, or of the sport I loved. I knew I was not going to be the go to girl, yet, or maybe ever again, but I needed to be on the team in some role. Fall sports had been part of my life for too long a time. I would not be able to cope. "I think I can help the team, and as the season goes on, I am sure that I will get stronger." I said, nervously. The coach looked at me without saying anything. Those few seconds had me tripping on uncertainty. I was fearful. His decision would shape my immediate future. And although I knew it would not be a bad thing to lose my spot, I was far too emotional to ease into life without volleyball at that point "Relax, Rox. You have a spot. Trainer says that as long as you follow his instructions, working out, wearing the brace, you should get better. I'm going with Davenport in your spot for now, but you will be called on." "Thanks, coach." I said. Afterwards, I didn't feel all that relieved. I just wanted to be part of the team. I was prepared, I reasoned, to move along and away from something that I had loved for most of my life: Competition. I had to be grateful though. I was going to do what he said and what he needed of me, what the team needed. I sensed a few of the girls were happy to see me lose top girl status. They were all seemingly supportive of my training and recovery, but competition was fierce, even if it was not overt. "I'm glad your back." One girl said. It seemed she was saying my future had been in doubt. 'When did I ever leave?' I thought. "Thanks. Just going to work hard." I said. The football games were not the same for me. Not seeing Stacey on the sidelines left me empty inside. This was my senior year and I was not going to have any memories of her standing strong in a pyramid formation. I wondered if my injury had made me more pensive, or if it was her departure. Stacey was enrolled at a school in Miami, but she was not on the cheer squad. I wondered if she even tried out, or if her studies had taken the center spot in her life now. Did she think of me? I looked back on the day she beat me up. I laughed when I recalled the moment I put her spit inside of me. I was thinking of her too much, I thought. It was around mid-season, the team was playing very poorly, and I was languishing, trying to avoid further injury, that my pursuit for love was finally renewed. It was after a game, and I was leaving the dressing room, when I bumped into a player from the basketball team. She was a junior transfer student from a school in Chicago. We were both coming around the same corner, headed in different directions, when we bumped into each other. I felt that my presence did not meet her with the same authority she greeted me with. I looked up to apologize to her. She smiled cheerfully then was moved along by another player. Her baggy clothes prevented me from seeing her shape, but it looked very athletic. She had an approachable disposition. If I had been feeling my usual self, I probably would have already known about her, probably would have noticed her some time ago. I looked back at her and was intrigued. She was, I later learned, 6"5", but was listed at 6'6". She was a taller and slightly more muscular version of me. We both had the same color hair and wore it in a ponytail. Rebecca was her name, and I was going to one-day join with her in a place few can get to. I was certain of that. It was an instant attraction for me. I wanted it to be a commingling of two girls, two women. During the last game of the season, I noticed she was in the stands with a few of her teammates. They were laughing and enjoying themselves, as I rushed into position, trying not to hurt myself again. My season was so uneventful, that I did not even keep track of my statistics. The knee was stronger, but not once did I play with the same power as before. There were acknowledgements throughout the game that this was going to be my last game. I was, part of me at least, happy it was over. I could now use my same determination in other areas of my life. A teaching degree was certainly a beginning. Rebecca, or Becca, as I had heard her called, was smiling, enjoying the day. We locked eyes, and although she lingered, she gave nothing away. I was awed by her size, and imagined both our bodies struggling for supremacy. She made my mind wander "Rox! Get in there!" The coach yelled. This was going to be my last time in a game. Coach probably thought I was avoiding the end of my career. After a quick sequence, in which I got as high as I did all season for a kill, I was done. People rose and clapped for me, as the public address announcer made a point to remind everyone that Roxanne was finished. I waved to a few people and hugged a few teammates. The coach came over and hugged me. Even players from the other team were applauding. I was trying to cry, but couldn't. I was not going to linger in the gym after I had changed. I was moving to get out of there. As I was leaving, Becca passed by me on her way out. "That was nice..." She started to say. "Rox. Way to go girl." A senior point guard, named Liz, interrupted Becca. I hardly ever talked to Liz and never much liked her. She seemed very scattered in her friendships. Liz was small and cute with dark hair. Her body was very fit and enviable. "You must be all sad it's over. I'm glad our final game is on the road. We should make the playoffs though, so who knows." Liz said. Becca towered over us, letting Liz do the talking. "Its over, that's for sure." I said. "Don't expect to feel anything you want to keep with you. Your play is all that matters." I made a point to emphasize the word 'play'. Liz was not a starter. "I'm sorry you were... I was here visiting that game you were hurt." Becca said. Her eyes were cautious. "That's nice..." I paused a second, trying to imagine her in the stands that day, "of you to say." "You came back, though. That impressed me." Becca said. I gave Becca a quick smile, as I left the gym. I did not say anything to Liz. Becca was gracious, and now we had a moment to build on. I planned on positioning myself in her path as often as I could. She, unlike Liz, was a good player. She was a center who came to the program very well coached and very well trained. Watching her play was something I was going to enjoy. ***** I tried to feel good about myself. I had my hair done and kept up with my pedicures. I was only interested in school and in Becca. In a game that Becca was dominating, she had scored 22 points with 5 minutes to go, she suddenly twisted her ankle and was writhing on the floor. Most of the team seemed surprised and didn't know what to say or do. The big girl went down. I knew what that felt like. I was thinking that they were trying to decide who would have to help her up, and walk her out of the gym, in case she was unable to do it on her own. I felt a sense of anger in her demeanor. Usually she was all smiles and laughs. She was really angry. She even said something to the opposing teams center. I didn't see the small details of the play, but it did seem there was some contact between the centers. The five-point lead faded and there was almost a fight. Some fans were yelling at the visiting team. When a team plays a rival, anything can happen. I waited around a little after the game, to see if I could speak with Becca, but she was hustled out of the gym by a few people, and the opportunity did not present itself. I heard that it was a minor sprain and she might end up only missing a couple of games. Liz passed by me, and as I expected, had nothing to say to me. She already tried and failed to make me feel bad after my last game, and now had nothing to say to me. I needed to know more about Becca. "Is Becca O.K?" "Yeah. She's strong. She can handle it. Probably won't miss a game." Liz said, not stopping to say this, but walking away from me. "Yeah... Well, thanks anyway." I said. "Good game, by the way." I lied. Liz played probably 5 minutes and didn't score any points. She gave the ball up twice. The school website confirmed that Becca was only going to be out a few games. I was plotting. We now shared something. We both had to be helped off the court. Our bodies had failed us. This was the introduction that we both needed, to get things moving in the right direction for our eventual partnership. I hung around the sports complex as much as could. I tried to act as though I wanted to stay in shape, even though my career was over. I finally found her one afternoon. She was relaxing by the swimming pool. She had been doing a few laps. She was wearing a one piece. Her skin was very pale, and very smooth. There was a slight hint of jiggle on the back of her thighs. Her breasts looked firm and not in need of much support. She was a B cup, and they appeared somewhat small on her frame. Her rear end, although the jiggle diverted some attention from it, was full and toned. I was sure she turned heads when in jeans. Her stomach was slightly protruding. I took some comfort in her imperfections, maybe even some one-upmanship, but she was 6'5", and must have needed to eat quite a bit to supply all those muscles. Her arms had full biceps that did not jiggle. I quickly absorbed her image as I walked up to her. "Hi..." I said "Oh, hi." Becca said, as if we had known each other for some time. "I am Roxanne. I was coming to get a swim myself. After I hurt myself, I just fell in love with the pool. For me, it was a good way to work out without stressing the knee." I opened my robe to reveal my one piece. I was carrying more around the middle than I had before, but my legs felt toned, and even my boobs were getting back to something better since I stopped running so much. The once over she gave me, made me feel justified in this pursuit. Her eyes swallowed in my features. She lingered on my thighs for a second. Her eyes then moved up to my stomach area. I think she sensed we both carried a round a few pounds there. "I really hated seeing you go down the other day." I said. "It reminded me so much of my injury. I am glad to hear it was just a sprain." "That is so sweet of you. I'm better now. I could go out now and play, if I taped it up and tied my shoe tight, but the trainer and coach want me to rest a bit. Plus, the two road games we have are against the bottom teams in the division. So... no biggie." "That is good to hear." I said, letting myself fall into the pool. "Nice entry" She said. "Be back in a sec." I said, as I started to do a few quick laps. My mind was racing as I tried to get this quick workout over. I was trying to come up with an offer for us to meet someplace. I was sure we had a chance. Before I finished my first lap, I heard the door slam, and was hoping she was not gone, but she was. Her spot seemed so empty there. I was in the pool only a few minutes and wanted out, but didn't want to seem too ambitious, by charging into he dressing room, looking for Becca. I lingered in the pool. I was relaxing and trying to seem cool, when I noticed the door open, and Becca coming towards me. Standing in flip-flops, and wearing a toe ring, was Becca. She was wearing jeans and had on an orange blouse. Her toenails were painted orange. She looked very sexy, very casually put together. Her hair was loose now. Even the waves in her hair seemed overpowering. "I'm sorry I rushed off, but I was just so tired of the water." She said. "That's O.K. It takes a while to get used to it." I said, acting like I was really there for a workout. She kneeled down now. I like the way her toes scrunched up as she put weight on them. She had nicer feet than me, and I had pedicures on a regular basis. Her big toe was particularly sexy: well rounded and dominant over the other toes. "Maybe, well see each other up here again?" She said. "I was ordering tonight's game on my computer. Were you going to watch it?" I asked. "No. I hadn't planned on it. I wanted to be at the game and all." "Would you want to come over to my place and watch it? If you don't have anything better to do?" "Sure." She thought for a moment. "That sounds like a good idea. I'll bring some popcorn." Sure." I said, laughing at the suggestion of her bringing popcorn. I gave her my address. When she walked away, I got a view of her ass. It wasn't as spectacular in jeans as I first thought. It was too broad for jeans, but she still looked amazing because of her long legs. I had to go home and figure out how to order the game and had to clean up a little. I also had to prep myself for her arrival. I showered and left my hair untied. I found a pair of orange panties and then put on some loose jeans and a lycra top that hugged my body. I was going braless and barefoot for Becca. My last pedicure had been a week ago. My feet looked sexy. Becca was a few minutes late. The game had already started. She came in with a bag of microwave popcorn. She had on the same outfit from the pool, except she was wearing a pair of suede boots that hugged her calves. It was too cold outside for flip-flops. "You actually brought popcorn." I said. "I love popcorn." Becca answered. We were sitting on the sofa. My computer was on the coffee table. We did not show much interest in the game. She mentioned that the girl playing in her place was very nervous about getting the start on the road. Becca talked about Liz. I told her that Liz was always rude with me. Becca said it was because Liz was jealous of me. Liz was actually glad when I got hurt. That did not surprise me at all. Somehow, we started talking about our well cared for feet. She told me where she went for her pedicures. It was the same place I went for mine. "They just know how to treat you right, there. Back home they would always make me feel rushed, like feet were not so important." She said. Becaa slowly took off her boots and slipped off her socks. The unveiling had begun. "Nice." I said. Without asking, she swung her feet over to me and placed them on my lap. I liked to compare feet, just because I spent so much time comparing other parts of me with girls, but I really wasn't that into feet, but the ring on her toe turned me on. I reached for the ring and started to turn it. She acted the same, as though she expected to lay her feet on my lap. I touched the soles of her feet. They were very soft. I sensed she had been with other girls. "We have to go together one day and get pedicures." I said. "Do you have a girlfriend?" She asked. My search for love, search for the right girl, made the question rather difficult to answer. I wanted to be in a position to say yes, but had to admit that I was alone. Becca had a girlfriend back home: A woman in her late twenties that controlled all the aspects of the relationship. Becca said she was getting tired of all the demands. She felt this woman wanted to mold her in her image. That is part of the reason she transferred out of state. Part of me was jealous, that Becca sort of belonged to someone else. I felt love just slip away, but I was horny and willing to let this time together play out. D I Ch. 02 The popcorn was done and I brought it over to the sofa. I put a few pieces in my mouth, then reached over and offered some to Becca, who opened her mouth and accepted them. She licked the butter off my fingers. I fed her more popcorn and she licked them again. I could tell that she enjoyed this sort of treatment. I pushed my middle finger deep into her mouth. She offered me some, and I, in turn, licked her long fingers. The sounds of the game were becoming more and more distant. We got closer to each other. It was time to move beyond the popcorn. I took one of her hands and gently bit on the pinky finger. We had begun to explore each other now. "I wonder if Liz has scored any points." I said. "Who cares?" She answered. She stood up now and removed her orange top. Her bra held her undersized titties in place. She took off her pants. The legs were so impressive. I was on the edge of the sofa. I fingered the band on her panties. Her skin felt so warm, so smooth. I tugged down on the panties. She had a small patch of dark brown hair. I wondered if the salon trimmed it for her. The edges were perfect. I felt for her buttocks. I squeezed them and pushed my face forward to her bush. I licked the hair. The ends stood straight, guarding the palace. There was a trace of wetness as I probed her gates. She moaned slightly as she grabbed my head and thrust it into her. I wasn't comfortable in that position, I wanted her on a bed. I stood up and took off my own top. She looked at my breasts and I could see she was impressed with their size. I had stopped worrying about the sag they had developed. She reached for them and played with my nipples, making them erect. We kissed a moment after that. Her height made me feel a bit dominated. I was so used to looking down at girls. As she showed me her breasts, I was a bit envious. They were smaller than I had imagined, but had not wavered from their original position of youth. I bent my head and sucked her pink nipples. I wanted to connect with her, to feel her greatness at the end of my tongue She still tasted of chlorine, and that was so perfect. I knew that in the future, smelling chlorine, or even hearing the word chlorine, would bring me back to this moment. I was grateful, even at that point, to have that memory. "You're wonderful." I said. "Rox..." She said. It felt cold in the apartment, now that we were getting naked, so I stepped away and turned up the heat. I was moving quickly, not wanting to change the flow of our moment together. I wanted her to feel comfortable. I had a queen-sized bed that was waiting for us. I held her hand as I led her into my bedroom. She looked around the room, sizing it up. She then swept down onto the bed. Her size was imposing. I felt small as I joined her on the bed. We positioned ourselves, and instinctively we intertwined for a session of tribbing. This was my first time joined as one, but I could tell she had done this a few, if not many, times before. We were both slightly wet as we started. We locked eyes and held the stare. We could not turn away from each other. We were present for this moment, not just physically, but soulfully. Our tummy's shook a bit, as we quickened our pace. She was definitely more experienced then me. I tried to thrust as though I had coupled with another like this before. I was searching for rhythm, trying to find a mutual track, but, after a while, her body dictated the pace, and I just took it from her. She was so strong. I felt myself being consumed by her. I closed my eyes now and tilted my head back, only to thrust it forward and try to show some assertiveness on my part. It was no use. She was in control of the pace and there was nothing I could do to impose myself on her. My hips danced and my pussy struggled to keep up, not wanting to miss out on anything natural and spectacular. My body did not signal the arrival of my orgasm, or maybe it did and I did not sense it. It just came, unannounced and somewhat surprised. A new type of warmth filled me. This was a letting go of a past life. Was I really this new person? Was I a woman to be with only women? I wanted to thank her for making feel so satisfied, but I still had work to do to bring her to orgasm. I renewed my thrusts, free from the tension of arrival. I could tell she would need more than this. I got off the ride and sought her out with my tongue. Some of my wetness, my juices, had mingled with hers. I lapped them up. She was enjoying my tongue more than my pussy. I invaded deeply, concentrating on her clit. I wanted to introduce myself to her clit, and just as we were becoming friends, she gushed forth. The meeting was brief. She flowed with all her authority. Her eyes were immense and happy. As we snuggled, she spoke of her future, spoke of her desires to have sex with a few girls from the basketball team. She asked me if I was interested in any of them. I told her that I wouldn't mind opening up Liz wit a very large dildo. She laughed and said that was a fantasy of hers also. We could barely hear the broadcast from the other room. The room was too hot now, but Becca did not want to leave my bed. I went and got some more popcorn. I was going to feed her. As I crossed into the bedroom, ready to serve her, my cell phone rang. The ring signified that it was Stacey. I paused until it stopped. Stacey seemed so distant then, as if she existed in a former life. I smiled and offered Becca some popcorn. D.I.Y Handjobs Want to pleasure your man? Hand jobs are a great way to pleasure your man. They can be used by themselves, or while performing oral sex on your partner. Although not necessary, it is better to perform these using a lubricant. Not only can these pleasure your man, but can pleasure you as well. With the following techniques, I am sure you can't go wrong, no matter where you are. PRESSURE: With one hand, pull the shaft's skin toward the base and wrap the fingers of this hand around the base to act as a cock ring. Using the other hand, rhythmically pick various points along the shaft of the penis and squeeze opposite sides of the penile shaft at these points, releasing pressure either immediately or after only a brief period of time. FIRE: Rub the penis between both palms, as if rubbing two sticks together to create fire. Be sure to use plenty of oil. GLAND HEAD MASSAGE: Hold the penis in one hand with the head sticking up. Using the well-oiled palm of your other hand, slowly and sensitively massage the glans head. Reverse directions every once in a while. HEALING STROKE: With the penis resting on the man's stomach, take one hand and cup the testicles. Then glide the heel of the palm of the other hand up and down the underside of the penis. TWIST AND SHOUT: Pull the skin of the penis toward the base with one hand. With the other hand, corkscrew the penis. This can be done with the thumb and first finger or with your entire grip. ANVIL STROKE: Start with one hand lightly grasping the top of the penis. Then stroke the penis from the top, all the way to the bottom. When you hit the bottom, release the penis. Meanwhile, bring your other hand to the top of the penis and repeat. BOOKENDS: Place both of your hands side by side against his shaft like a pair of bookends. Now push hard against his penis. Then lift your hands up and down. DOORKNOB: Turn the head of his penis like you're trying to open an oily doorknob. Now try turning the other way. Repeat. This stroke is sometimes improved by using the other hand to stretch the skin of the penis toward the base. DOUBLE WHAMMY: Bring your well lubricated hands down on his shaft. Some penises are so big they require both hands; if your partner's doesn't, then use the other hand to caress and lightly flutter his testicles, or tighten around the base of his shaft. If both hands fit along the length of the shaft then move them together, up and down, in the typical pumping motion. Pretend you're holding a baseball bat and are about to score a grand slam. You can also vary the directions of your hands: one up, one down at the same time. MILKING: Start with one hand lightly grasping the bottom of the penis. Then stroke the penis from the bottom all the way to the top. When you hit the top, release the penis. Meanwhile, bring your other hand to the bottom of the penis and repeat. PERPETUAL PENETRATION: Start with one hand lightly grasping the top of the penis. Then stroke the penis from the top all the way to the bottom, letting his penis "penetrate" into your fist on each stroke. Before the head of his penis pops out of your hand, bring the other hand up for the next penetration. This way it seems to him like he is penetrating deeper and deeper into an infinite vagina. Make sure you keep the penetration continuous. RING: Make a ring with your thumb and forefinger and pump up and down with it. When you get to the top, close the ring. Then make him squeeze his way in as you slide back down to the bottom. SHAFT: Stroke only his shaft, ignoring his glans head. You will notice his glans head swelling and turning red. When it's bright red, use Doorknob, Glans Head Massage, or Perpetual Penetration. SHUTTLE PENIS: Take the penis in both hands, fingers lightly touching the sides of the shaft. Now flick the penis back and forth between your two hands by holding onto the loose skin of the shaft. Do this stroke for a while to allow tension to build. SPOT PINCH: Lightly and slowly run a finger up the underside of his penis. Ask him to tell you where the most sensitive spot is. Pinch, squeeze, nibble and tease that spot. D I "That is fine with me." I wasn't sure yet if she meant more than just talking. We hugged. It was clumsy. She apologized again and I told her that it was fine. I didn't know if I should ask her on a date or if I should make arrangements to meet her. "I'll come find you, or, however, when I am ready to see you." She said. "Stacey... bye." I said. She walked away. I sat back down and read the same lines over and over. My heart was racing. Was there a chance that this would move along fast for us? My heart could only race quickly for so long. My mind was racing now. Stacey had not contacted me after nearly a week. I didn't go to the football game that week. I was afraid that I would look at her with too much desire, making her call it all off. The following Thursday, she found me at the track. I was doing a couple of laps before practice. She was not dressed for any type of workout. She was wearing torn at he knee jeans and had on a pair of dark boots. She told me that we could meet that night at her apartment. She told me not to shower after practice, to come sweaty. She also asked me to wear my volleyball uniform. "Then you have to wear your cheer outfit." I said. "Of course." She said. She lived off campus in an apartment complex by the downtown area. I found the building but missed the entrance twice. I was getting flustered. My heart was beating rapidly. I had no idea what to expect. I didn't know if I could be good with a girl. It's different with guys. They are there to adore you. She buzzed me in. There were a few college students in the lobby. I think one of them looked familiar. He may have been a teacher's assistant. I rode the elevator to her apartment on the 17th floor. She came to the door wearing a white robe. "Come on in." She said. I could tell that her mind was made up. She was going to be with a girl. Being unfaithful did not enter my mind, I was certain it did not enter her mind. "Stacious." I said She was looking at my jogging pants and pullover with a disapproving look. "I have my uniform on." I said. I removed my sweats. "Sweet 16." She said. I wore number 16. I could see she was pleased. She opened her robe and took it off. She was wearing her uniform. I was excited. I could see that something was bulging from underneath her skirt. I had a good idea what it was. I think she sensed a bit of apprehension on my part. I must have looked frightened. I was expecting some kissing, fondling and licking. I was not expecting to be fucked with a dildo. "Are you O.K.?" She asked. "I think so." I answered. She pulled up her skirt to reveal a long white dildo. It looked to be about 7 inches. I was more nervous now. "This is my fantasy... Part of it... It has to be this way for me." She said. "If you want to change your..." "No." I said. "I am fine with it." I walked over to her. I was towering over her. I looked impressive in my uniform. I wanted to let her know, that yes, she was going to fuck me, but only because I was going to allow it. I bent down and kissed her. She tasted very clean. Her perfume was light and enticing. There were quite a few boxes in the living room piled against a wall. It did not seem like she had many personal belongings, or maybe she had not unpacked everything. We walked into the bedroom. She had a futon pushed out of the way and on the floor was an exercise mat. I figured out I was going to be on the mat. "I think it's going to be comfortable. It should be." She said. "I hope so." I said, as I slid onto the mat. It felt well padded. I was content. "I like that you are still... That you didn't shower. " She said. "Did I tell you that I enjoy watching you out on the court? You're the star out there. The coach has you as his go to girl." "Did I ever tell you that I never get enough of your moves? The way you do the splits. Or when you stretch." I said. "Like this." She said, as she slid onto the mat, doing the splits. She held onto her dildo as she landed on her butt. I started to take off my uniform, but she asked me to stop. She wanted me in uniform. I got down on all fours and crawled over to her. I took my time. She rose from the splits and met me on the middle of the mat. I felt sweaty. I felt on display as she started to run her hands across my arms, and across my back. I felt her feeling my muscles. I stretched my leg, so she could see the length. She ran her hands down my legs, squeezing them at their meatiest parts. All the while, her strap-on was rubbing against me. She started to undo my ponytail. My hair fell about. Stacey reached over to a small table for a pair of scissors. "What's that for?" I nervously said. She put a finger to her mouth to silence me. "I need to cut a hole in your shorts." She said. She had things already arranged. I wasn't sure if this was the right way to experience my first time with a girl. I thought that things would flow naturally, but she obviously had planned for this moment for some time. She needed to make a slit for her to be able to enter me with my shorts still on. I had never taken anything that big. A few guys were close to that size. One maybe reached that. My boyfriend was average, and at this moment, seemed perfectly placed in his small town. Not my small town anymore. I was sure that I could handle the dildo. I knew some pain might follow, but I was ready. "Be careful." I said, as she started to cut a long slit from the back up to the front. I felt opened. Now she did the same with my panties. I just new I was a moist and sweaty mess. "You have an amazing body, Rox." She said, feeling my ass, running her hands across my hips. I was at her mercy, at the mercy of her strap-on, and at whatever plan she had working through her head. She finally made contact with the skin under my shorts. Her warm fingers were sizing my pussy up. She entered me with a couple of fingers. I was starting to get nervous. I didn't really know Stacey. I was having visions of fleeing, of forgetting this. "Don't hurt me." I said. "I won't... hurt you." She answered. "I have some lubricant." Stacey went over to the nightstand and got some Vaseline. She was gentle as she lubed me up. Her hands were very soft and in no hurry. She had finally warmed to me, I thought. I also thought she may have just been satisfied with herself. She had me on all fours on her exercise mat and was about to violate me. She started to probe with her fake penis, moving in slightly, dancing around my opening. She moved in slowly. I realized she was unsure. This was her first time with a girl. I was relieved she didn't want to hurt me. "Push it in a little harder, not too hard." I said. "I'll let you know if it is too much." With that I was quiet. She started to take baby strokes. I was grateful for that, and let myself relax. We were doing fine. We were making a good team. I was taking more and more of it. I was relaxing even more. Her hands held my waist. She was feeling my abdominal muscles. Stacey started a little faster now. She was searching for just the right rhythm. I could feel the instant she found the perfect rhythm. Now I need to get in sync with her. I closed my eyes and gently rocked back as she was about to thrust forward. We found it. Was it primal? She squeezed my hips as the ride went to another level. She used the strength in her lower body to plow ahead. I could hear her breathing quicken, let go, as she pushed forward. I felt strong. I felt I was meant to be here, on all fours, with another girl. My boyfriend seemed lessened. Her hands were strong. She squeezed my waist. She reached forward with one arm and took hold of one arm, one of the pillars that kept me up. As if she new I was entering the realm of orgasm, she started to hum something. It took me a few seconds to realize she was humming the school fight song. Her humming was sweet. It somehow made the moment. We were two girls in uniform, trying hard to be worthy of their first time. I started to go into something wonderful. "Don't stop, Stacious... Just." I said. She was staying true to her motions, to what had gotten me to this point. I let go and just let it come. It felt free. This orgasm was separate from what I had ever felt. My arms gave out and I collapsed on the mat. I felt her slide out of me. Stacey climbed on top of my back. I did not feel like talking or moving. My breathing felt heavy. She just squeezed me and hummed the fight song in my ear. I did not need the fight song now. I just wanted her breath on me. She acted relieved. She had performed as the person in her fantasy. "Are you...Was..." She was saying. "SHHH..." I said. She laid on me for a few minutes, before the moment turned to her needs. It was her turn. She coaxed me over onto my back. Her face looked at me anew. Was my face glowing? She lay on my chest. I was disappointed that she had not yet sucked on my breasts. I knew there was plenty of time. "Now it's my turn." She said. Stacey stood up and removed her strap-on. She held it close to her face and smelled it. She smiled and placed it on the edge of the mat. She wasn't wearing her briefs, but left her skirt on. My breathing was returning to normal. Stacey was back on top of me in a couple of bouncy moves. 'Wow!' I thought. She was very athletic. She pinched my nipples through my shirt and bra. She proceeded to mount my face. I had to work my head into a position where I could take her weight. If the mat had been any thinner, I don't think I would have been comfortable. She started to hump my face, but the skirt was too claustrophobic. I moved it up, as if asking her to take it off. She lifted it up and over her torso. The elastic waist made it easy to do. Her pussy was very smooth, very tight. I started to probe my tongue and squeezed her ass cheeks. I thought her butt was much softer than mine. The skin was very smooth though. I moved my hands to her waist as my tongue danced around her debuting clit. Even though I couldn't see her back, I was sure that I was touching her tattoo. I was making mumbling noises as I licked and kissed her slit. She removed her top, to reveal a sports bra with the school logo. I had not seen one before. I wanted one. Her breasts looked well kept under there. I was curious if they would live up to all the posturing she did with them. As she started to take off her bra, she positioned herself a little higher on my face. I could not see them. I had to move her back down a bit. I could now seem them. My first reaction as that they were smaller than they appeared in her uniform, they seemed to be a B cup. My second reaction was one of awe. They were identical, exactly the same size with no blemishes. Her nipples were small but equally plump. These were prototype breasts. Jumping off pyramids had affected them. I gently lifted her off me and placed her on her back. I needed to get closer to them. I felt them before I started to suck on them, needing to nourish something about my imperfections. Her free hand tugged at the bottom of my shirt, as if telling me to remove it. I wanted more of her tits. I sucked and gently bit on her nipples. She seemed to enjoy it. Her face smiled. Her eyes focused on some spot on the ceiling. I finally straightened up and took off my top. I unhooked my bra and tried my best to be confident. I arched my back to put them in the best position, but she was not looking at them. She seemed to be getting glassy eyed as I moved my tits over her face, letting them swing there for her. She grabbed one and started sucking it. Was this her first time tasting another girl like this? She nibbled and licked. I felt proud, almost mothering now that I was on top. "You're so lovely." I said. She mumbled something incoherent. I knew I had to get her dildo. I wanted our juices to form a bond. I unhooked it from the harness and gently traced her vaginal lips. I inserted a finger and felt her tightness. She needed to relax. I was worried it was going to be too big for her. I did not want any harm to come to Stacious. I spread her legs. She spread them even wider as by reflex. This was easy for her. I moved in slowly. Her eyes were getting lost. I got plenty of lube and coasted in a little. I only had the tip in. I worked it slowly until she relaxed a bit more. I reached down and started to kiss her thighs, and any crevice before me. The inside of her thighs tasted so pure. I had to reach down with my free hand to rub myself. I felt more room opening itself up. She was accepting it better now. "You have no blemishes on your body. I am in total awe of you." I said. Stacey was very blank. She was moaning and making these innocent squeals as I thrust in all the way now. Her limbs were lifeless. Only her eyes registered that she was awake, and the moans were punctuated by baby squeals. I could sense she was climaxing. I was as attentive as she had been with me, making sure to reach the path to her orgasm with tenderness. She gasped as she came. I was very happy we both found satisfaction. We both had found release, and pleasure. All we could do now was cuddle and whisper into each other's ears. She called herself a bitch and apologized for something. Both our bodies, how ever different in size, were entwined. We were joined in the pursuit of orgasm. The second I left her apartment I was in a daze. I was reliving every second. I was wondering if I ever needed to call my boyfriend again. Could I end it with him now? Would girls be all that I needed, all that needed me? We had a very important game the following day, and I was not able to concentrate. I was all over the court and out of position on every other play. The coach yelled at me a few times before finally telling me to sit out a while. As I stood on the sideline, drinking water and trying to clear my head, I noticed Stacey in the stands. She was behind our bench. How long had she been there? She was sitting with some guy, smiling at me. She waved. I was angry. How dare she come to my game with some guy? D is for Delia It was after the third press article, the one about Samantha, that I felt compelled to act. Exactly how I wasn't at all sure. But that third attack had been so vicious, apparently, and more importantly I'd known the victim - vaguely. I'd spotted the name - Samantha Beresford, not a common name. And seeing her picture I realise it was the same little girl I'd lived next to a decade ago. She had been attacked. And raped. And killed. The 'Cumberland Street killer', the papers called him. Nasty bit of work, serial killer and rapist. And sweet little Samantha, she of the winning smile, such a lovely little girl. He'd raped her and killed her. Bastard! I'd probably not have done anything about it except for the dates. That last article I'd seen had listed the dates of the three attacks. Now I don't want to knock the British police, they do a damn good job, but it surprised me that they seemed not to have made the link. A friend of mine who worked on the B. Post - a proper paper, that is, let me into some of the details, where and when and how and so on. All three attacks were in the same dark alley off the same street. All on Mondays. All at almost exactly 11.15 pm. But it was the dates. OK, so I've a special interest here. I edited the local 'free-paper', you know the sort of thing, a minimum of editorial content and loads of cheap ads. And I noticed - well - it may have been a co-incidence, but I doubted it. The pub where the meeting took place was only about 100 yards from the end of Cumberland Street. And the meetings had taken place on all those Mondays. And - the clincher for me - the day one of the meetings had been cancelled, in the middle of that period, there hadn't been an attack. But what to do? Ring up the cops and tell them? That was the obvious thing to do. Or maybe I should call 'Crime-tellers' - there was probably a reward, for information leading to ...I could make my name with this. Sure I could tell the cops and get in their good books. But would that really do me any good? Better to go for the money. Or the other possibility. Hell. Surely not. But at least that would be one way I'd be sure. The cops would be able to get their DNA sample, it would be easy for them. If I could do it, that is. ********************************** "Are you sure about this, David?" Monica asked. "I mean, really, you do look great but it's a bit risky, isn't it? I mean, some of our clients wouldn't hesitate but you? I'd never have guessed." "I'm sure." And I was. I looked in the mirror for the final time, remembering what Monica had said to me the last time I'd been in the shop. OK, I'd only bought a pair of fishnets that time but we'd chatted for a while. When I'd been in the previous week for a 'Changeover' session she had said she thought I really could be convincing. 'But you'd have to go all the way, David, you know what I mean. The total tart look, heels and boobs and big hair and everything' Which is what I'd done. It was necessary. From the inside out, all of me. The total hair-removal from my body, the stuck-on prosthetic pussy and big bulging boobs. And the rest, obscenely short and tight black p.v.c. mini-skirt with a skimpy see-through blouse and a wide white-gold belt, black seamed stockings of course and skyscraper stiletto heels. Made up to the eyeballs, a bit overdone maybe but I didn't care. What with the big bubbly platinum-blonde wig and the flashy over-the-top jewellery and two-inch long scarlet nails, I looked good. I looked fucking good. At least I hoped so. "OK. Am I ready?" "Ready? David, or rather Delia, you look ready for - well, you know what you look ready for. Tell, you what, you hang on ten minutes or so, I'd love to see my Bob's face when he sees you. And see the reaction in his trousers. Honestly David, sorry, Delia again, if you walk down Broad Street looking like that you'll have damn near every man in Brum cumming in his pants. Really. I'd say you're ready. But, come on, do tell me, what is all this in aid of? Or rather who?" "Er - I'd rather not say. Not yet. I mean, Monica, thank you so much. You have done a really tremendous job. I do realise nearly every tranny would love to look like this, you've got me so close to my 'dream look. Anyway, Monica, you're closing in a few minutes. I'd better go." So go I did. Out into the outside world. Me, for the very first time, being a woman. But not just that, a woman with a mission. I glimpsed my reflection in the large shop window as I turned the corner to walk down the road towards my car. In a way I was sure so many TVs have admired themselves in shop windows in the past, I looked - in admiration really - at the long luscious legs, the big bouncing hair, the provocatively-clad figure. I felt wonderful. I was careful walking along though, I had to be. Of course I'd worn high heels before, and tight short skirts. But always either at home or in the 'Changeover' shop, I'd never actually walked along the street dressed so sexily before. And never actually pretending to be a woman. I was a bit worried, I'd had to park almost 100 yards from the front of the shop. It seemed a very long walk, fortunately I never actually passed anyone on that occasion. I wondered if anyone noticed me from their front room, the houses are quite close to the path in that area. I had no doubt at all what they would think if they did. 'Tart. Slut. Prostitute. Hooker.' I looked like a woman of easy virtue as they say, a woman of the street. But that was necessary. I was a woman with a mission. I had some time to kill, I had to be at the right place at just the right time. 11 o'clock, at the entrance to the long alley leading off Cumberland Street. But if I drove directly I'd be there in twenty minutes. I had over two hours to kill. I'd known that in advance of course, that I'd have to leave the shop just before eight. So I drove home. I managed to get in quickly and carefully without any of the neighbours seeing. So I sat there in my darkening living room with a coffee and the crossword. I shook my shoes off, high heels are OK for a while but even I anticipated I'd have trouble if I tried to do everything in them for three hours or so. Strange, I'd managed the dressing, doing up all my tight buttons on my blouse, with no trouble despite my long scarlet fingernails. But I really couldn't hold my pen properly to fill in the clues. Not that I got many of them of course, my mind was elsewhere, on my mission like I said, on what I just had to achieve that night. Just before ten-thirty I was ready. I put my high-heels on again, grabbed my handbag, and walked out to my car. And drove into town. I parked on Cumberland Street, just opposite the alley. THE alley. Ten to eleven. I switched the radio on for a few minutes, trying to calm down. I knew what I was doing wasn't illegal. Ill-advised, certainly. Insane, probably. Some back-up in some way would be a good idea. But I just couldn't envisage anybody at all agreeing to what I was going to do, so I was on my own. I heard noises behind me and closed my car window quickly. I could see a dozen or so men coming out of the 'King's Arms'. I knew who they were, the group whose meeting I'd advertised in my paper most weeks for the past two months or so, they started just before the attacks began. I dare say the 'Beatles Fan Club', or even a 'Stones Appreciation Society' might well have included a total nutter or so, but not many. Mostly boring old men, and maybe women too, not really dangerous. But the fans of that particular sixties rock group were a different kettle of fish. They'd always been very off-the-wall, not just kinky but strange with it. And I was sure any committed group of their fans mad enough to meet regularly to show their support of that particular foursome would include more than its fair share of total weirdoes. They were even singing one of those damn songs as they walked along, I think it was 'Long and hard', full of gay or bi-sexual double-entendres. Some went past my car, some into the take-away about fifty yards in front of me. I waited until they'd all passed me, then got out of my car. I crossed the street quickly, trying not to become aroused by the sensual feeling caused by my nylons rubbing together as I walked. I stopped. I took a deep breath. And I began to walk down the alley. I could see two or three men several yards in front of me. I could tell where they were from too, the out-of-tune rendering of 'Lady do it for me' were unmistakable. I slowed just a little. My heart was going nineteen to the dozen, maybe twenty, maybe more. I was nervous. I was scared. Then I saw someone in the shadows in front of me. That's why I was scared. "Hello darling. Don't you look gorgeous, then?" I stopped. 'What SHOULD I do?', I thought. I didn't mean to be safe, if I'd wanted to be safe I'd never have dressed like that or gone there in the first place. And I didn't mean to be convincing, I knew that Marion had done a great job on me, I'd even have passed pretty well in the daylight. What I wanted was to convince him. Because from that moment, from the first sound of his voice, even before I'd seen him properly, I was sure. This was him. So now all I had to do was to convince him I was a suitable victim. He moved out of the shadows, quickly towards me. He had a knife! Yes! This was definitely him. He pushed me, firmly but not roughly, against the wall along the side of the alley. "OK babe, I think you'll do very nicely. So just be a good girl and do as you're told." By now my heart was going thirty to the dozen. I had to stay calm. "Please. Please don't hurt me!" I muttered, in as good a squeaky frightened female-ish tone as I could. "Shut it!" he said loudly, though not so loud that anyone passing by on the main street would hear. "Now do as you're told and there won't be a problem!" I felt something - cold and sharp - pressed against my neck. "OK, no sudden moves or this is as likely to go in as not." "Please. Don't hurt me!" I muttered again. "Take my money. All of it, there's not much, it's in my bag." "Money? It's not money I want right now, baby, it's you. And my, aren't you the gorgeous one. Great tits baby!" I could feel his other hand, even through the prostheses I was wearing, as it moved up and played with my breasts, as he tugged at my blouse to reveal my voluptuous bosoms almost spilling out of my black under-wired half-cut bra. "Wow, those are good un's" he growled, continuing and intensifying his mammary massaging. "I bet you have fun playing with them in bed at night!" Fun? Well, yes. I was 'having fun'. Which is to say, despite the nullifying effect of the large silicone filled cups stuck over my own natural male 'breasts', I could feel what he was doing. And there was some sort of tactile excitement as I felt his hands pulling and pushing. But I realised it was in my own best interests to intensify my own reactions. Deliberately I shortened my breathing, inhaling and exhaling more forcefully and more quickly. And I thought a moan would be a good idea. "Oooooh! OOOOOOOOH!" "I knew you'd like that baby. OK, don't make a move honey, let's see what else we got here." I could still feel the sharp steel resting against my neck. The fear had gone. I was now in control. His concentration was elsewhere now, I knew I could escape whenever I wanted. But, of course, I didn't want. I'd come here for a reason. I wanted, I NEEDED, to be raped. I mean, like many trannies, I think of myself living 'on the edge'. OK so we're not always there, certainly I'm not, but just sometimes. It's the double thrill of actually being a woman, passing as one, being treated as one, not just called 'Delia' in the TV shop but doing ordinary things, walking along the street, shopping for shoes and sexy lingerie, that sort of thing. And of maybe, just maybe being 'read', spotted, having someone looking at you and just wondering if you really ARE the sexy female slut you seem to be. Well right then I was in exactly that situation. I was actually BEING a woman, not just shopping for lingerie but having my bra and my boobs fondled by a man indeed, it was such an exciting and slightly dangerous feeling. Slightly! Yes, the knife didn't worry me any more. I was in control. I knew that 'in one mighty bound' as Super-man would say - or rather Super-girl - I could grab his arm and twist, he'd be on the floor screaming with my stiletto on his face and the knife spilled some distance away. OK, so I've only got a blue belt in Judo but that's enough. But I needed to move things along. My assailant's hands were beginning to roam, I felt him slide one of them up the short distance from the hem of my tight micro-skirt, up my thigh and towards my knickers. Now was the time to make my move. Not to disarm him, that would never do, he had to feel he was running the show. "Please, tell me what you want. If it's not money...?" "It's not fucking money, you bitch. It's you I want. Open your legs, come on, COME ON!" "Ooooh PLEASE!" "Now get my fucking cock out. Come on you fucking bitch. DO IT!" "Ooooh YES!" Which was something of an invitation on my part. The first indication I'd given that he might actually be giving me some pleasure. OK so I was never much of an actor, but as an actress I was determined to do my part, and to get what I wanted out of this. Which, initially at least, was exactly what he wanted. I wanted his cock. I made my move. I managed to get both my hands down to my sides and to slide one round his bum, giving in a squeeze and pulling him towards my own crotch. And with the other hand I grabbed the top of his zipper and pulled it down, very quickly slipping my hand into his pants and finding his erect member. He groaned In delight as I tugged it out and fondled it, the very first time I'd felt another man's penis. And not just any penis, I knew this cock had done the very worst thing possible. It had committed rape. More than once. I wanted to squeeze it, hard, to cause him pain, in fact to rip his cock off. But - I also wanted pleasure from it, before doing anything else. "Oh BABY! Yes, that is SO good. I bet you fuck really well, I bet you get the guys screaming for more, streuth, that really does feel great." I kept on stroking it, feeling the heat, feeling it grow in my hand. I spoke quietly, in a trembling little voice. "Please, don't hurt me." "Shut up, bitch. Stop snivelling." He had to release his grip a little to manoeuvre himself into the right position, with his erect penis right up against the top of my legs. I was ready to grab and twist if the need arose, I was desperately hoping nobody would come down the alley and interrupt us. I knew damn well if that happened he'd just stab and run and I might not have time to take preventative action. I really was breathing heavily by then, the adrenalin was coursing through my blood-stream, I was so close to realising my dream. I could feel his knob right next to my prosthetic pussy, I just hoped it was good enough to do its job. He was aroused, excited, a little drunk, not really able to feel what was really happening. I just hoped he wouldn't realise exactly where his cock was about to go. "OK bitch. Now, talk dirty to me. VERY dirty. Beg for it, beg for my cock, beg for sex, come on, tell me what you want and you'd better be good. Tell me EXACTLY what you want." "Please, don't hurt me." "Stop it! Stop moaning you fucking cunt, come on, you know what I need. So DO IT!" I paused, briefly. This was going to work. He was going to rape me. All I had to do now was make it the very best fuck he'd ever had in all his disgusting perverted life. I whimpered a little more, then moved my lips closer to his. "You want to fuck me, baby?" "Yes!" My voice became just a little stronger, a little more confident, a little more sexy. "You want to shove your cock in me, baby?" "Yes!" "You want your gorgeous big cock deep in my pussy?" "Oh yes! YES!" "You want to shove it hard up my cunt, baby, you want to shoot your cum deep up my cunt?" "Oh yes! YES! YES!" I put in an extra whimper, then reached down and took hold of his cock. And at the same time I leaned forward to gently, well, as gently and erotically as I could in that situation, slide my smooth red lips slowly across his, at the same time pushing my tongue between his lips. We kissed. I opened my lips more and began to tease his tongue with mine. I felt his erection stiffen and grow as our embrace became more amorous. "Oh baby, you are good, you really are the tops." I had to hurry now, I didn't want him to cum early, I sensed he was becoming so aroused that he might ejaculate prematurely. "You want to shove it up my cunt now, darling?" I was still trying to sound uncertain, to sound scared, it was becoming increasingly more difficult as we moved nearer to actually achieving my fantasy. "Yes baby, come on, you need fucking!" I felt the head of his cock moving round between my legs, I shifted a little as he pushed, and then - yes. Yes! YES! He was in me! His cock smoothly slid into the inviting hole. I'd done it! I'd got a real throbbing erect cock in my 'pussy'! Yes! "Oh baby, come on, keep going, talk dirty some more, talk disgusting to me." He was beginning to slide in and out, pushing me against the wall behind me, really getting into a rhythm, shoving and groaning as he went deeper up inside my arse. And me? Well I was having the time of my life. I was in heaven, waves of delight sweeping through my entire body from the tips of my red toenails to the very ends of my long blonde locks. I was shaking. I was trembling. I was trying to cope with the paroxysms of delight pulsing through every fibre of my body. I needed a pause so I just locked our lips again, French-kissing him long and hard, and digging my long red nails into his buttocks as he pumped into me. "My darling!" I moaned into his ear as we briefly broke the clinch. "Come on, my lover, fuck me. Shove your cock deeper, oh, that is so good, you've got such a beautiful cock. Come on baby, fuck me. FUCK ME!" I managed to get my hands up above his waist, I pulled and ripped his shirt, I scraped my nails over his hairy chest, this was even better than I'd ever imagined. Streuth, if this was what being shagged meant to a woman, bring it on, it was - literally - an orgasmic sensation. "Come on my lover, harder, HARDER. Oh yes my lover, that feels so good, your big thick rod SO deep up my pussy, I love it, I LOVE IT! More baby, more." And inevitably, he climaxed. My attacker, my rapist, my lover, climaxed. He began pumping his cum deep inside my arse. And I began on the roller-coaster of the most sensational orgasm I'd ever experienced in my entire life. It started explosively, as the first jets of my lover's semen hit hard deep inside me. Inevitably I reacted, thrusting my crotch harder towards his invading cock. He just shoved me more violently, spurting his semen harder and deeper into me. It has never occurred to me just how hot it would be, I could feel the pressure as it pulsed deep up my arse but I could also feel the heat of his thrusting seeds. I gasped for breath, this was beyond my wildest dreams. "Yes baby, shag me, harder, shove your cock deeper up my cunt. Yes, yes, fuck your sexy slut, fuck me, oh baby, fuck me." He reacted violently. His rock-hard erect member slid finally oh-so deep up me, and I felt phase two - his crotch had been sensuously rubbing against my latex vagina, and it had excited my own hidden organ. Suddenly I reacted myself, jerking hard and strongly as his own prick kept on shooting his spunk up me. "I'm cumming for you, baby, oh that is so gorgeous, fuck me more baby, shoot your hot spunk so deep inside me. Oh Yes baby, yes!" D is for Delia For maybe half a minute, it seemed so long, we were both in the throes of violent orgasms. Moaning, shouting, groaning as we each reached new heights of sexual nirvana. We must each have shot cum in a dozen or more strong pulses, each grabbing onto whatever bits of exposed flesh we could as our crotches meshed, as we each satisfied the other. The knife was gone. As we wilted, shattered by the experiences, I knew that danger was no more. This guy was in no state to stab anybody, he hadn't the strength. He looked me in the eyes, his were glazing over. "That was the greatest fuck I've ever had in my life! Jeez baby, you are fucking sensational!" I kissed him. I hugged him hard. That was his reward - for taking my cherry. He responded but not very forcefully, I really do think it had been too much for him. I took his hand and led him across the alley towards a pile of bags left there, and sat him down, he collapsed onto a heap. I was ready for the next phase. Quickly I did up my buttons and adjusted my thong and my skirt. I took a deep breath to steady myself, I was rather shaken too. Not surprisingly. I began to walk quite rapidly back up the alley, kicking the knife back in his direction as I passed it. He didn't stir. He was out of it. Sated. And shagged. Back on the main street I crossed over towards my car, then walked past it the ten yards to the phone box there. I dialled - 999. "Hello - police... Listen, the Cumberland Street rapist, he's in the alley next to the library, just down from the King's Arms. ... Yes ... Got that? ... OK" I put the phone down and skipped quickly back to my car. I waited - about half a minute. I saw in my rear-view mirror, a police car roared up and two coppers rushed out and ran down the alley. I couldn't hear clearly- obviously - but I could hear something was going on. Just a minute or so later, as two other police cars rolled up, I could see the two policemen who'd gone down the alley emerge pushing and pulling and shoving someone into the back of their car. When all the cops got together I knew it was time to make myself scarce. They had a job to do. I'd done mine. As I drove home, revelling in the warmish feeling deep inside me as my assailant's cum swirled round, I smiled. Victim? Me? No way. I'd got exactly what I wanted, in every sense of the word. Vengeance was mine. D is for Dogging The story is true. The names have been changed. This one happened last year. Bon appetit. Over a late and lazy Sunday breakfast, my wife Angela asked me a question that had been sparked by a four page 'World Exclusive Investigation' in one of the more racy Sunday papers. "What's dogging?" "Huh?" "Dogging. Apparently it's all the rage these days," she said shaking her paper to indicate the source of her question. "There's even celebrities doing it." "Doesn't it tell you in there?" "Kind of. Well it tells you WHAT it is, but not WHY they do it." I put my paper down, took off my reading glasses. "It's. . . I suppose it's public exhibitionism. A couple get in a car, drive out to some parking area. Then they have sex while strangers watch them, and sometimes the strangers touch and join in." "Mmmmm." We returned to our papers and, I thought, that was the end of the subject. That night, however, in the midst of sex during that part where we started to voice our fantasies, the topic came round again. I was lying between Angela's spread legs going to town on her fabulous pussy, licking and kissing and sucking on her clit. Her panting was starting to quicken. She was lifting her buttocks off the bed to force herself into my mouth. "Oh yes, hun....just there," she panted. "Yeah, would you like to do that to me while someone, some other guy watched? Huh? Would you like that?" Which was a bit unfair seeing as I was unable to respond, having my mouth full of cunt at the time. But, taking my silence as agreement, she continued. "I'd like that. Lying naked in a car with you licking me out while a guy watches. Yeah, he'd be able to see my tits, and my pussy. He could see your tongue going . . . yeah, just like that, in and out, licking and kissing." She was panting very heavily by now and her words were pouring out of her mouth, just like her juice was pouring out of her snatch. And I must admit, the thought was really turning me on. I should point out at this juncture that my wife and I are no strangers to group sex. Our first session was kind of forced on Angela (SEE B IS FOR BANG), but after that, when we were properly back together as a married couple we enjoyed a fair few 'experiences' - some of which will turn up later on in this alphabet series. But up to this point there had always been some initial contact- either the other people were friends or acquaintances or we had had some other kind of contact beforehand - via e-mail, or chatroom or some other contact. This 'dogging' idea that the Sunday papers had given her was something new. Anyway, we continued in this vein for the rest of the night, shagging away at each other while talking about strange men watching us and joining in. The sex was great, and the following morning the sheets were a mess. The next few nights were really just repeat performances, and it became clear to me that here was an opportunity to sexperiment in a new way. A trawl through the darker side of the internet eventually brought me reward in the shape of a dogging area that was not too far a drive away. The site even gave a list of do's and don't's . Yes, even dogging has a strict sense of etiquette. That night, I took our verbal fantasy up a notch and revealed to Angela what I had found on the internet. "That's not that far away is it?" she asked. "About twenty miles," I agreed. She grabbed my cock and started to suck on it with a frenzy that she hadn't matched for quite a few weeks and I knew it was a certainty that we would go dogging soon. Two nights later we borrowed my sister's old Peugeot Estate ( the rear seats folded flat, if you want to know) and we headed of for rural Cheshire. To say Angela was sexually excited would be an understatement. She was on 'simmer' from the moment we got into the car. Stopped at a traffic light during the journey, she grabbed my hand and pulled it inside her knickers - she was sopping. I mean it was literally leaking out of her all over the seat of her sister's car and I made a mental note to ensure I gave the car a good interior wipe over before returning it. "I can't believe I'm gonna' do this," she gabbled, "It's sooooo dirty." "Yeah, don't get carried away too soon, though. I told you what it said on the net, didn't I? You aren't guaranteed a show every night." "But I think I'm gonna' be lucky, sweetie. I think I'm gonna get my show." Despite Angela's optimism, I knew the chances of us striking lucky on the first night weren't high. Still, if nothing DID happen, I had an incredibly horny woman on my hands so it was hard to see how I could go wrong. One way or another, I thought, I'm in for some good horny sex. With my hand-written map on her lap, Angela navigated us off the motorway, down onto a series of country lanes that were marked with only the occasional light. "It should be somewhere on the left," she said, and I noticed her breathing was getting raspy. Christ! If she didn't get some action soon, I was convinced she was going to melt. She grabbed my hand fiercely. "That's it," she said. I slowed the car and sure enough there was our spot - a small picnic area, gravel-covered with a fringe of grass around the outside with half a dozen picnic tables dotted around. At the far end there was a parked car - its headlights off, but its interior light on. I could make out a man in the driver's seat and either a woman or a man with long hair alongside. The interior light being on indicated that the couple welcomed voyeurs. I pointed the car toward them, performed a neat three-point turn, and reversed the car alongside theirs. Now I could see that the passenger was indeed a woman . I guessed her to be in her late thirties, early forties, and - from what I could see - of average looks. The guy - her husband?- I couldn't quite make out, as by the time I had the car parked his head had disappeared from view. "He's going down on her, isn't he?" Angela asked. I nodded. "Wanna' get closer?" Angela nodded and, together, we got out of the car and strolled nonchalantly to their car. We both bent our head right up to the passenger window and stared in. Sure enough, the woman was leaning back in her seat with her skirt rolled up, her tits out on view and her man busily slavering away at her cunt. She looked into our eyes as she jerked up on down on his mouth. I made a 'roll down your window' motion to her and almost immediately she reached over and thumbed the electric window. It purred down. I knew we had to follow the etiquette and that we had to be invited to touch her before we could. At first the woman remained silently - apart from a few little moans and groans. But she kept eye contact with us, almost willing us to look at her pussy and the man licking her out. Outside of the car - and out of their vision - Angela and I were playing with each other as we watched. My hand was up her skirt, slowly rubbing her asshole, while she was rubbing my zip and the bulge that lay beneath. In the car the woman was starting to pant heavier. She looked directly at me and said, " Feel my tits." Well, who was I to refuse a ladies request. I leant in and started to flick her erect nipples. "Are you feeling her tits, you dirty bastard," Angela said. "Yeah." "You're standing here watching this woman get her pussy licked while you play with her tits and my asshole and you get your cock rubbed?" "Yeah." "Why don't you get your cock out? Hey, lady, you wanna' see my husband's cock?" The woman nodded - quickly and emphatically. I kind of got the feeling she was on the downward slope to an orgasm and that us watching her was accelerating her descent. Then the woman spoke for the first time. "Come on then, mister. Let me se your big, hard cock." Okay, up to this point I was fine. But now I was being asked to get my old man out so that this woman - this woman I had never set eyes on until a few moments ago - could see it. I own up to a bit of stage fright. What if it was smaller than she was used to? What if she smirked and said, " Call that a cock?" For a moment I froze and was undecided. Angela, however, had no such qualms. She grabbed me, turned me to her, and promptly unzipped me. Looking into my eyes she said, "Show her the goods, honey. Show her your cock." She pulled my zip apart, and in one swift movement pulled down my jeans and boxers together. She turned me to face into the car. The woman raised her head and stared directly at my cock. She didn't laugh, she didn't smirk, she just gurgled. I took that as a good sign and presented my cock to her properly, raising myself onto tiptoes and thrusting my groin in through the open window. I felt the woman grab my cock and start to wank me. I heard Angela growl deep in her throat. "She's jerking you off, you dirty fuckin' bastard. This woman has got her hand on your cock and she's pulling on it. D'you like that, huh? You like getting' wanked by this stranger?" I couldn't respond. It felt good. It felt good and dirty and I was so fucking horny. "Ask her to suck me," I said to Angela. "Ask her yourself, you dirty fuckin' bastard. Go on, ask her to give you a blow job while your wife watches." Reluctantly I pulled my cock from the woman's hand, bent down and said, "Why don't you suck me off?" She never said anything, she just adjusted her position, grabbed my cock again and shoved it into her mouth. I heard Angela mutter something, felt her hand go down to her pussy as she started to frig herself, and I just stood at the car window shoving my cock through it, into the woman's mouth. It must have took less than ten seconds before I felt the tell tale signs in my cock. "I'm gonna' come," I muttered more or less at the same time as I actually DID come. The woman must have sensed it, because she pulled her mouth off me, and gave me a few quick tugs. I bit my lip, groaned and shot my load over her face. By an ego-boosting coincidence the woman came at the same time, shrieking her glee as she buried her pussy into her man's mouth. In the silence of the picnic area, it sounded bizarrely loud and I instinctively spun my head around to check whether anyone had heard it. There was no one - at least no one we could see. Inside of thirty seconds of this mutual orgasm, we were pushed away from the car, the husband came up for air, got back into the driver's seat, the window purred shut and their car was rolling away from us and heading out of the picnic area. Stunned and amazed at the rapidity of this ending, Angela and I stood there like fools, my cock still out in the open, and Angela's hand still up inside her skirt. "What the. . .?" I shrugged. I'd got mine, so I was happy. I knew that Angela had wanted to display herself to others, maybe get to have a stranger's cock to play with, but it wasn't to be. Not this time. Maybe next time. I said as much to Angela. She looked at me, with one eyebrow raised - like she was silently saying ' that's what you think, mister'. She got back into our car. I followed. I put the key in the ignition and was about to start the car when she grabbed my hand. She shook her head and switched on the interior light. "We came for one reason, tonight. So I can have some dirty bastard watch me while I get fucked. I'm not leaving here until I get what that woman got. At the very least!" She altered her seat so it was as far back as it could go, and reclined it back as well. Then she planted her feet up on the dash - either side of the parcel shelf - pulled her skirt up and started to play with herself. "I'm gonna' come in this car tonight. I'm gonna' make a mess on these seats, and maybe even on the floor if I really get going. You just keep an eye out to see if we attract any spectators." I lit a cigarette, switched the stereo onto a smooth soul station, and enjoyed the view as my wife masturbated. After a couple of minutes there was still no sign of anyone else. I had finished my cigarette, the radio station was playing a pre-recorded interview with someone I had never even heard of, and the view - what there was of it - hadn't altered. In short I was getting bored. Even the sight of my wife strumming away at her steamy cunt was starting to pale. (What can I tell you, I'm over forty, and I had just shot my load over some stranger's face - what I really wanted was to be back at home, necking a few cans of lager and watching the football. A typical man, right?) Anyway, I was just trying to work out how to get Angela to agree with calling it a night when a set of headlights appeared . I nudged her and when she looked up at me, I jerked my head in the direction of the car. She raised her head to have a look. I made her sit up straight and adjust her skirt. After all this could be a cop car and whilst the police might suspect what we were there for, they would have no proof if we were properly attired - better safe than sorry. I watched as the car performed the same manoeuvre as I had done earlier. A wide circle to get close and then a reverse to park up alongside us. I looked out. There was just a solitary figure inside - clearly a man. "This is it," breathed Angela. "I'm gonna' do it." She hoisted her skirt again and returned to her position of wide-open-legged masturbation. "What's he doing?" she asked. I turned my head slightly. "He's staring at us," I replied. "Nope, he's not just staring, he's getting out." Angela started to rub at her clit faster. "Is he coming over?" "Yep." "Oh God, I'm gonna' do this. I really am. I'm gonna let some stranger watch me play with myself." From the corner of my eye I watched the man circle the car so he could approach from Angela's side. He was a tall man- beefy probably turning to fat. I put him at about fifty years old and told Angela so. "So what?" she hissed. "He'll still have a cock won't he?" And you have to admit her logic was spot-on. The man crept closer - his eyes never leaving Angela. Of course he wouldn't be able to see anything until he was right up alongside her window - but it must have been stunningly obvious what she was up to, and I started to feel the stirrings in my loins. This stranger was - in a matter of seconds- going to be able to see my wife's pussy as she masturbated.. He made Angela's window and stared down between her legs. Angela looked up at him. "You wanna' closer look?" she asked. I don't know whether he could hear her, or he could lip-read ( which would be a miracle seeing as the lips he was staring at had never uttered a word as far as I was aware). But, anyways, he nodded his head. Angela said, "Open the fucking window," and I obeyed. The window had hardly got past the halfway mark, before the man had his head inside our car. With the aid of the courtesy light I could see now that I had done the man a disservice. He looked more like our age (forty ish) than a decade older. He stared at my wife's cunt- then glanced at me. He nodded once - like he was acknowledging me as we passed each other in the street. Strangely enough, my instinct was to nod back - which I did, and I think this was some sort of doggers signal. You know, like 'help yourself' which he immediately did. He reached his hand into the car and started to stroke my wife's pussy. Angela groaned in delight, and removed her own hand from her nether regions. Taking this as another - and less contentious - signal, he slipped a couple of fingers inside Angela and started to frig her. Angela groaned yet again, this time quite loudly, and started to thrust at his fingers. To this day, I claim that it was Angela who invited him to get his cock out. She says he just did it of his own accord. Either way, next thing I know there is this big, pulsating cock sticking through my car window and Angela is grabbing hold of it. They wanked each other while I watched. Then Angela looked at me. "Will you let him fuck me?" "Ahh, I don't know Ang. . . I thought it was all about being watched." "I know, but . . . " "Come on, honey. . ." "Please!!!!!" And so I gave in. I nodded my head and in an instant they were in the back seat - Angela on all fours and our new friend sliding a condom onto his cock. "Watch me, honey," she murmured. "Watch me get fucked by a stranger." And so I watched as he positioned himself behind her. He got it to the edge of her cunt and then , in one swift push, he was buried balls-deep inside her. She gasped, groaned, and instantly started to buck back at him. I watched as they fucked. I listened as they panted and swore at each other. "Fucking whore, fucking cheap cum-soaked cunt." "Come on you dirty fucker, shag me. Stick your cock into me." They fucked and panted. I watched and wanked. Angela orgasmed twice before he gurgled and shot his seed into the rubber. The expression on Angela's face - one of deep satisfaction was enough to get me to the top of the hill for the second time. I struggled out of my seat, aiming my cock in her general direction and promptly spilt my seed over the back of the seat. The condom was pulled off, and unceremoniously dumped outside the car. The stranger put his cock away, zipped up and with a grin of thanks at me, he was gone. I waited for Angela to recover, then made sure she was properly dressed . Back in the front seat again, I pulled the car out of the picnic area and we went home. Since then we have heard a lot of stories about dogging. About great nights were a woman gets watched by a whole group of men who stand outside the car wanking their cum over the windows whilst the woman performs for them inside. And bad nights were people have been arrested by police posing as doggers, and their names splashed across the newspapers. We haven't tried it again. Maybe one night we'll go back, but for now it's another little scenario that we have played out and that's good enough for us. . . for now. KENNY RETURNS IN. . . "E IS FOR EGO" D is for Dragonfruit On the bus, running a little late because I'm disorganised as ever, I send you a message to let you know -- hoping I've not earned a black mark already. Earlier in the day I received my instructions; to bring laddered stockings and my suspenders. This is one of the reasons I'm late. I got rid of all my laddered stockings a few weeks ago apart from one pair with a small ladder which had to be washed. To make up for this, I've decided to follow through on an request you made a while back. So here I am, on the bus, wearing my short duffle coat, but it is the longest thing I have on. Under that there is, of course, the black, back-seemed stockings and suspenders. On my feet are a well-worn pair of Chuck Taylors. Under the coat is a black, sheer bra, purple T-shirt and a little grey shirt dress with a black belt. I say dress, but it's so short I'm not 100% sure it qualifies. I can't sit on the bus, or I'd be placing my freshly shaved cunt directly on the seat, that's how short it is. The slightest movement and all the world can see I'm wearing stockings and suspenders, with a small bend they'll see I'm not wearing knickers. I am exposed, vulnerable, and to make matters worse I have the new attachment for your magic wand in my bag. I feel so wanton. As I lean against the handrail on the bus, little vibrations run up and through my body, making the exposed lips of my pussy quiver and rub together. Every movement of the bus makes them grow and swell, heavy with desire caused by the unusual sensations and anticipation of our play. When I arrive your eyes light up -- the step up into the house is enough to show my suspender straps. "Come on in and warm up, I've turned up the heating for you." "Thanks, my cheeks are freezing." I grin, unbuttoning my coat. "Poor Kitten, they are cold," You say as you bring your hands to my face, brushing, my cheeks, and I smile cheekily. "Not those cheeks, Sir." You're eyes widen and drift down to the bottom of my dress and your hands move down to cup and caress my bottom. "Oh my, Kitten! Well done. How did it feel travelling all the way here without pants?" "Cold! And, erm... Well, it was actually kind of strange on the bus, nice feeling." You look at me quizzically, and I feel the blood rushing to my face. "Well it was different. The, er, vibrations and movements of the bus and as I walked, they... sort of resonated... Upward, between my legs, making my labia quiver and vibrate." You grin and lead me into the living room. "Have you ever gone commando before?" "Only in jeans or trousers. Its very different in a skirt -- you should try it some time." You give me a quick spank for my impertinence and instruct me to strip down to the stockings and suspenders. "Bend over," You command and I bend forward at the waist till I'm holding my ankles. "Spread your legs further," "Yes, Sir." I comply. "I've decided to start including a little more protocol in our scenes, Miss Kitten," You say as you caress my arse, "From now on you must reply either 'yes Sir', or 'no, Sir' and then 'thank you Sir'. Do you understand?" "Yes Sir, Thank you Sir." I reply. "Good," you give me a few firm, encouraging spanks to my bottom, before moving me to kneel on the sofa, facing the back. "If you forget, you'll be getting a blue mark on your left breast, that will be for flogging. The right will be for cane strokes." You pull out the blue pencil, "You were late again today Kitten, but you did message me to apologise so I'm going to start you with one blue mark." I have tensed at your mention of the cane. It still scares me and I hope I can avoid it as I did last week. When you mark my left breast with a single line I relax a little. I rather enjoy your floggings so I don't mind this nearly so much. You open your box of rope and I smile, pleased that I will be tied up again. I have been stretching my arms, experimenting to see how long I can hold them in a reverse prayer, trying to get my elbows closer together in anticipation of our fun this afternoon. "Cross your hands together behind you back." You instruct. I do so quickly, pulling my arms in close to my sides, with my hands crossing to touch my shoulder blades. Columns of rope are tied and knotted around my arms and chest, pulling my arms in closer and framing my large breasts. I revel in the sensations of rope across my skin, the smell of it and the thrum as it is pulled across and tightened. My breathing becomes more shallow and ragged, not from constriction but excitement. "Wriggle your hands." I do so and you appear satisfied with the effect. "Stand on your knees, so your feet are up." "Yes Sir... Oh, thank you Sir," I shift awkwardly, unable to support myself now my hands are tied. Once I am up an in position you begin to frog-tie them in place. The stockings help keep the rope in place and you are able to bind my legs tighter than when you hog-tied me on our last date. You drape a large cushion over the back of the sofa and firmly push me forwards until I am draped over it. This lessens the pressure on my knees, but combined with my arms pinned back, pushes on my chest and digs in. You pull out the dental gag, and couch down in front of me to show me what else you have for me. It is a strange looking fruit, mostly a pinky-red colour, with scale-like petals, tipped in bright green. "Our safe word for today is Dragon fruit, but because I want to gag you, I picked up a dragon fruit from the shop. If you need to use the safe word, I want you to drop the fruit." I smile, pleased at your thoughtful gesture. "Yes Sir, thank you Sir." "Open your mouth." I do so and as you open the gag, my lips stretch to accommodate it. You kiss me round the cool metal, flicking my tongue with your own. I squeeze the rough-textured fruit in my hand, keeping it secure. You stand up and look at me, watching my response. I am exposed, wearing nothing but my laddered back-seamed stockings. Bound tightly in rope with my legs apart, my breasts pushed up on the cushion I am presented to you -- vulnerable and eager to see what experiences you will provide. With my mouth forced open by the gag, I'm struggling to swallow and saliva is pooling in my mouth. I try to move so I can swallow it, but I end up with a trail of spittle dripping out and landing on my breast. You smile in satisfaction and produce a bowl, setting it down on the floor in front of me. "There's not much point struggling Miss Kitten. You're just going to have to drool." I am mortified, and cringe a little as another line of spit falls from my mouth to the bowl. You move round behind me and run two fingers along the lips of my cunt. "Oh how wet you are Kitten! Did you enjoy being tied up?" "Ersth Er, Ankoo Er." I struggle around the gag. Pleased with my response you being fingering me in earnest and I buck my hips a little overcome with pleasure as your fingers tug at my labia, slide round my tight hole and circle over my sensitive clit. "You mustn't cum till I say you can," I grip the dragon fruit tightly, and try to control my breathing. I am so close to the edge. The fingering stops and is replaced by a spank to my hot cunt. After a few spanks to warm me up, you pick up the flogger and begin to work over my lower back, buttocks and upper thighs. The thuddy thwacks heat my skin, creating a heady mixture of pleasure and pain tangling in my brain with sharp spikes causing me to yelp as the strands of sued wrap round my legs an connect with my sensitive pussy. The impacts come faster and I am gasping, my whole being quivering so that even when you stop I still twitch and shake a little, adjusting my grip on the now rather bruised fruit. I hear the clink of ice-cubes in a bowl. Shivers radiate across my flesh as you begin to rub the cube around my heated, stinging skin. The ice trail moves lower and you slowly move it up the inside of my thigh, then you slip it up and down my hot slit, eliciting a long, quiet moan. You take the now slippery cube and balance it precariously on my shoulders, resting on the harness holding my arms in place. The slightest movement will dislodge it. "Don't let it drop Kitten, you'll get a black mark if you do." "Ersth Er, Ankoo Er." I slur around the gag, sending another large trail of saliva pouring from my mouth and I have to stop my squirm of revulsion as I feel the ice cube shift. You reach up and stroke my hands, and I wriggle my fingers to show they still work. The sensation feels strange, the blood flow restricted by the bend of my arm. I know we have only just begun our play and I hope I will be able to hold the position long enough. Satisfied for now, you return to our play. "In keeping with our Dragon-ish theme I've decided to experiment a little with some fiery sensations today Kitten." I try to turn and look at you, at what you have install for me, but I am so tightly bound in your ropes I may as well be blindfolded. Will you be playing with wax again? I did like that very much last time... Another idea crosses my mind however that makes me a little nervous. One afternoon over the holidays you had experimented with a little bit of toothpaste on my clit and nipples. Although it hadn't hurt I wasn't sure I liked the cool, tingly sensations it produced, and at the time you had also threatened to use Deep Heat, which has quite a reputation for pain when applied to sensitive areas. I tense a little as these thoughts run through my mind, it feels as though an eternity passes before you start. Your fingers return to my slippery, wet cunt and begin to tease and play with my labia. A familiar tingling, icy cold, but at the same time slightly burning builds as you touch me. It must be the toothpaste... Although not painful, it makes me squirm a little, combined with the wonderful feelings caused by your pulling and tugging on my inner lips, your fingers sliding up either side of my clit, applying squeezing pressure to the hood surrounding it. Suddenly, the ice cube on my back slides across my shoulders. I tense up, hoping to halt its inevitable progress but it drops to the floor with a clatter. I moan in despair as you rise and circle round to stand before me. You pull the black pencil from your jeans pocket and methodically draw a black-line, going over it a few times to ensure it is thick and clear across my breast. "That's one for now." Retrieving the ice cube, you set it back on my shoulders and return to my open, vulnerable cunt. I hear buzzing, as something switches to life behind me. It doesn't sound like the vibrator though, and as it touches my sensitive cunt I quickly realize it is your electric toothbrush. As you manipulate it around it causes the toothpaste to renew its cooling, tingling effect and I cry out a little behind the gag. The buzzing stops and you wipe my pussy clean of the toothpaste. Your fingers return covered with a new substance. "And how does this feel, Miss Kitten? Is it warming you back up?" I pause before I answer, checking to see what the reaction is. As your fingers rub and squeeze, slipping around and inside my pussy it is certainly warming again. There is a strange contrast between the coolness of the areas you are not touching and the rush of warmth to those you do. Yet the sensation doesn't last long after you move onto a new area. "Aayths Er," I reply, so lost in the sensations I forget the protocol. "What was that Kitten?" You ask "Eayths Er," I repeat, "Oh, Ankoo Er!" I add after a pause, realising my mistake. You rise and add another blue mark to my left breast. With your hand so close to my face I catch the distinctive, eucalyptus odour of vapour rub, revealing what you have been playing with. Taking advantage of my raised face, you lean down and kiss me a little around the gag, slipping your tongue into my mouth and I rise up a little on to my knees, following you as you stretch away from me to leave again. This dislodges the ice cube again and your face lights up with an evil grin as you pull out the black pencil and add a black mark to the right breast. Mentally I curse myself for this foolishness. I must be more careful -- I'm not sure I can take more than a couple of cane strokes, especially if you flog me too. Sliding two fingers, inside me, spreading the vapour rub as you go I am distracted from these thoughts and begin to moan. The extra warmth and twisting of your fingers, spreading my tight hole feels exquisite. "Remember, you mustn't cum without my permission Kitten," You remind me. FUCK! I scream in my head. I try to steady my breathing, focusing on the pressure on my knees, the throb and ache of my arms, rather than the pleasure between my legs. I twist my hands, squeezing the fruit and trying to improve my circulation, suddenly acutely aware of how tight and prickly they are feeling. This sends rivulets of cold water down my back and I stop quickly as I realise the ice cube is shifting. You remove your fingers and I breathe a sigh of relief. As they return, I can instantly tell you have swapped to a new substance. The warmth spreads quickly as you rub and pull at my labia. "nnngggaaahhh," I moan, humping my hips slightly in response. The devilish ice cube clatters to the floor once again and I let out a small scream of frustration. A new cube soon replaces it and you carry on. "You do seem to like this, how interesting." "Ersth Er, Ankoo Er!" I yelp. Your fingers move up, circling my clit and the tension builds further. I squirm slightly, trying hard not to dislodge the ice again. Painfully aware of the three strokes of the cane I have already earnt. "Arhhhh!" I yelp, "Erleeathh Er!" I try to get your attention as my right arm becomes overwhelmingly tight and numb. "Is it too much?" You ask, alert to my discomfort. I try to explain around my gag, but it is only so much gibberish. I've not dropped the dragon fruit though and I hope you can see that I need help. You stop me and gently remove the gag. "Thorry Ther," I lisp, my mouth half asleep from the gag, "It's my right arm, I think it needs to be loosened please! Its feels so tight and sore." You stroke my face, and I smile up at you. Hoping you can alleviate the problem without stopping our play. You move round and carefully loosen the restraints on that arm. With the extra movement I flex and shake my hand, trying to improve the sensation. After a little time you check both my arms and my feet, making sure I am safe to continue. "Are you ok to carry on a little longer?" "Yes Sir, Thank you Sir." I reply. My arms are still uncomfortable but no longer dangerously so. You replace the ice cube on my shoulders and renewed sensations flow from my core as you side fingers inside me, twisting them and eliciting groans and cries from my over stimulated body. It would appear we are both surprised by how much I love the Deep Heat on my sensitive areas. It warms that heightens sensations, spreading warmth and building higher as it continues to work after your fingers have moved on. Your finger begins to circle round my anus and I squirm a little, still unnerved by your interest in that area. The pressure increases and the finger begins to slip inside, warmth spreading as you stretch my tight virgin arse around your finger. Slowly you pump it in and out of my arse and I groan as discomfort combines with pleasure and I am lost in sensations flooding my body. Your other hand tugs and pulls at my labia, stretching them, opening my pussy and tugging at my clit, pulling the hood over my engorged little nub. The ice cube slides down my back, putting a halt to my pleasure. You put it black in place. "How many black marks does that make it?" You question me. "Four Sir." I murmur, resigned to my fate. "Four cane strokes, with that nasty cane! I am terrible. Are you afraid Kitten?" "Yes Sir..." I forget my protocol momentarily until you remind me with a sharp intake of breath. "I mean, yes Sir, thank you Sir." But it is too late. Not only do I have four black marks, but now I have three blue ones too. Sadist that you are, you decide I have had enough enjoyment and wipe the cream from my pussy, using cold yogurt to ensure the sensations are halted. The shock of the cold makes me gasp and shrink away, causing the ice cube to drop from my back once again and I let out a sob in despair. With five black marks lined up on my breast I cower slightly as you replace the cube once again. It feels so cold against my skin and each trickle of cold water it releases sends fear coursing through me, uncertain if it is slipping or dripping on its precarious perch. Having identified my penchant for warm sensations, you switch sensations and start applying another new substance to my cunt, quickly developing to spreading it inside my tight hole. It takes a few seconds to react, at first tingling, then developing into prickles of cold. These build in intensity, until my cunt starts to feel almost numb with cold. I whimper as you play with me, unable to move or react to your ministrations for feel of receiving another mark. "You don't seem to enjoy that Kitten, how does it feel?" "No Sir, it's very cold Sir," I quietly reply. "Hmm, I was going to stop here, but I think I'd like to try one more thing. I think you might like it." I take a long, shaky breath, both excited and afraid of what you might have in store for me. You disappear off to the kitchen, reappearing shortly and I wonder what it is that you have saved for last. I'm not left in suspense for long, as you begin smearing the mysterious sauce around my cunt. Quickly it begins to sting, and I can smell the piri-piri sauce, mingled with my juices. Not quite satisfied by my noises, you apply the electric toothbrush to my outer lips, then move it gradually deeper and around the edges of my clit, opening the skin and intensifying the effect of the chilli on my cunt. I begin to whimper as you slide two fingers inside me, pumping the sauce in and out of my tight hole. Contrasts of pleasure and pain have me teetering on the brink of an orgasm, but as the effect of the chilli becomes stronger, pain begins to overtake pleasure. My arms are throbbing and tingling from their prolonged bondage at such an acute angle, and I squeeze and grip at the dragonfruit, worried I will have to drop it soon, my resilience wearing low. The squirming of my arms and twitches of my hip dislodge the icecube once more, and you stop torturing my cunt and walk round the sofa to stand in front of me. Reaching down, you make the black marks up to six, then unzip your jeans, freeing your hard cock and pushing it too my lips. I open and begin sucking on it with enthusiasm, distracting myself from the discomfort in my own areas by focusing all my attention on yours. I slide you in and out of my mouth, applying suction and tickling the underside of your cock with my tongue. Groaning with pleasure you grab hold of my hair, tugging on it to speed my movements and thrusting your cock deep inside my mouth, catching the back of my throat. I moan around your flesh, lost in the feel of your cock inside me, enjoying the salty taste as precum seeps from the tip. Abruptly you stop and I cry out a little at the loss. "That's enough of that Kitten, I think its nearly time to set you free." Much as I wish you had cum in my mouth, I must confess it is a relief to hear I will be able to move my arms soon. My feet also have begun to sting from the lack of ready blood-flow and I know this is for the best. "Before I can untie you, however, there is the small matter of these marks." I shiver as you run your fingers over my breasts, stroking the lines you have left on them. D is for Dragonfruit "For each of these blue marks, you will be flogged six times. How many does that make it?" I try to de-cloud my brain to manage the simple arithmetic, and after a pause manage to answer, "Eighteen, Sir." "Good. Lets start with those." You walk back round and I feel the soft sued strands of the flogger trailing across my back, buttocks and thighs. WHACK! You hit me hard across my arse. WHACK! WHACK-WHACK-WHACK! The strands wrap round my thighs, connecting with my sensitive pussy and I emit mewls of pain. The flogger drapes and drags across my now warmed cheeks and my hip buck and hump slightly, betraying my enjoyment. "WHACK! WHACK-WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! As my arse begins to burn my cries get louder in response to each hit. WHACK! The flogger hits my lower back and I squeeze hard at the dragonfruit in my hand. "How many is that Bitch?" I panic slightly, not sure of how many there have been. "... Eleven... Sir?" I reply "That's right Bitch, now don't forget to thank me." "Yes Sir, thank you Sir." WHACK! WHACK- WHACK-WHACK! The thuds build and the pain of each strike becomes more intense. For all the pain though, I can't help but feel extremely turned on and my pussy gets wetter and wetter. WHACK! The final strike lands across my swollen pussy and I let out a shriek of pain. You rub and stroke my now burning flesh and I try to recover my ragged breathing. Panting and twitching slightly I begin to come back down to earth. "Well done Bitch." You compliment me as you stroke my bruised skin. "Mmmm, nice and toasty. I am terrible, caning you after such a flogging." I tense, wondering if I have earned a reprieve, acutely aware of how painful your cane is without having been firmly flogged, but I am not so lucky. "We're going to do the cane a little differently. You will have to count each strike, and thank me after each one." I squirm a little in my tight bonds, whimpering at this news. How can I thank you for something I hate so much? "Answer me." You command, slicing cane through the air with a whistle to punctuate your point. "Yes Sir, thank you Sir" I reply, finally broken. You run the cane across my burning arse and I take a deep breath, stilling my self and trying not to tense up further. SNAP! "Argh! One Sir, Thank you Sir." SNAP! "AH-Agh! Two Sir, thank you Sir." SNAP! I flail against my ropes, trying futilely to get away before giving in. "Three Sir... Thank you Sir." I manage to add. SNAP! I begin to sob, painful lines stinging, cutting and burning through my flesh, over and above the background hum from the flogging. "Four Sir!" I blurt through my gasps. "Thank you, Sir." SNAP! Again, searing pain burns through from the switch of cane. "Five Sir, Thank you Sir." Tears are running down my cheeks. "Last one Kitten, you're doing really well." You reassure me. SNAP! This last one hits lower, at the junction between my buttock and thigh and I scream in pain as it catches a little at my cunt. I twist and writhe against the rope until the pain begins to level out. You drop the cane and come close, stroking my hair and calming me down. Quickly your fingers pull at the ropes around my arms, freeing them and sending blood throbbing back through my veins. I whimper as feeling starts to return to my hands and you gently peel my fingers from around the abused dragonfruit. You untie my legs and support me as I struggle to shift, unable yet to sit on my burning bottom. Pulling me up, you half carry me down the hall to your bed, so kind until you have me in front of it and with a cruel smile you push me so I fall with a bump on my back, forcing a cry of pain as the stinging stripes are pressed against the sheets. With that your sadistic streak appears satisfied, and you climb into bed next to me, pulling me close and wrapping me in your arms, letting go only to pass me a glass of water. You hold me, murmuring soft reassurances and questioning me about our play and my condition, gradually settling me down. Once I have stopped trembling, you shift down the bed and clean my pussy again with your tongue, sending little spikes of pleasure through my brain as you flick across my clit. Finally we fuck, gently at first but getting rougher as you pull my legs up over your shoulders. My pussy clenches and tightens around your hard cock as I cum, and I thrash around you, crying out in pleasure. You groan and your eyes widen under the squeezing pulsations of my cunt, rippling around you and with a final thrust you burry your cock deep inside me and cum, setting of another jolt of pleasure through my system. We lie, wrapped in each other's arms afterwards. This has been so intense I am shattered, as are you. Smiling you look into my eyes as your fingers play across the deep rope marks in my arms. "Are you free next weekend for Elderberry?" "Yes Sir, thank you Sir." D is for Dream I couldn't remember the last time that my head had ever pounded so hard - pulsating from the blood rushes, throbbing from the abuse, and cracking in pain from the orgasms. My hands were tied, well, handcuffed, and bleeding, above my head as I felt the cold shower water turn on. What part of my vision that was drifting into blackness receded. Feeling my eyes jerk open, I blinked through the water, shook my head from side to side, and tried to see what the hell was going on. "Okay, it's your go!" "You're gonna be sorry you invited me to come the fuck at you and tackle the shit out of you! I SO own your ass!!" I heard you give off a smartass laugh in response, as you readied yourself for my attack. Of course, this was fun, this was play. I took off for you, and, of course, didn't even come close to knocking you down or even moving your steady feet an inch. "Jackass! You stepped on my toe!" you shouted. Responding with a smile and cheekily sticking out my tongue at you, you lunged back at me and of course pinned me into the dirt. I was laughing uncontrollably from the cruel tickling you were giving me... you KNEW I was ticklish! We got back up and readied ourselves again - this time it was me taking the hit. Steadying myself as you had taught me, I smiled, bit my bottom lip, and nodded to you. A hard thud threw me down to the ground, you landed on top of me, knocking the breath out of my lungs. I found something just beginning to slowly erupt within me... and it was not air. Anger, almost distant memories, shot up through my veins before I was even able to breathe again. You were shocked when you saw the flame in my eyes; the hatred; the desire? With some sort of inertia flowing through my body, I managed to reach up and grab your wrist, rolling myself out from underneath you. Twisting your hand backward, as I'd been taught, I almost felt it crack, but thankfully didn't pull that far... however, I did manage to make you quite, quite upset. "Okay, okay, ow! What the fuck? Let go, chill out!" you shouted at me. The words came into my ears, but the message did not make any sense. Why should I let go? Amazingly, in the next few seconds, you managed to wriggle out of my hold, and stand up, grasping your wrist and sweating. Still angry, still hurting, I lunged for you, some animalistic sensor in me setting my touch on fire. Easily moving away from my advancing, you also grabbed my wrist, this time however, you twisted it behind my back. "Stop it, what the hell's wrong with you?" you barked at me; now you were getting angry as well. "Let me GO!" I shouted, almost at the top of my lungs. "No! Get the fuck in the house, we're done with this shit," forcing me to do what you said by pushing me through the doorway, like a cop leading a man into a police car. Once inside, you eased your grip, and I twisted out of the easy hold you had me in. I spun around, my breath shallow, my eyes filed with rage. Before I got the chance to come at you again, you leaned forward and grabbed the wrists I had thrown up, and slammed them into the wall behind me. Landing with a loud thud that shook the room, my head also reared backward, crashing into the grey pigment of my wall. I blinked, hard, attempting to retrieve the vision that you had knocked out of me. It seemed as if my rational thoughts returned with my vision, because I almost couldn't remember how or why we were in the position we were. All I knew was... I liked it. Then you spoke again. "Now you fucking listen to me, stop fucking coming at me and stop trying to fucking hurt me and yourself. Understand me?" you spat in my face. I meekly nodded... then you added something. "Good girl." Now I knew what this was. I allowed my pride, my self-confidence, and my self-definition of a strong willed woman kick back into my focus, and I was able to instead of submit... fight back. "Let me the fuck go! I already told you to let me go, mother fucker!" I screamed into your eyes. I began to struggle as hard and as forcefully as I could, but all I managed to do was give you space in between me and the wall for you to use against me... and spin me around, my arms twisted behind my back and my face into the wall. Your hands were big enough to hold both of mine painfully together, not letting me move them an inch. By this point my wrists were so sore from the hold you had on me before and the games we had been playing earlier, I admitted to myself defeat. You slammed your other hand into the small of my back, making me groan in pain and arch my head backwards. You took this opportunity to reach up and grab a handful of my hair, already drenched in sweat. Pressing yourself against me and leaning down into me, you whispered, "If you want to play games, we can play games. But only I can allow that or deny it. Do you want to play with me?" I nodded... finally realizing the effect this was having on me. As if you were thinking the same thing I was, you reached down and leaned your hand inward. Without even a command, I spread my legs slightly so you could have access to the part of me you always wanted to touch. Still pressed against me, you began to breathe heavily onto my neck as I felt your hand rubbing on my pussy. Now I knew why you wanted me wearing a skirt. Your fingers roughly spread my lips apart and you instantly felt how wet I was... how aroused this situation was making me. I heard and felt you let out a deep, soft growl into my neck as you took two of your fingers and easily shoved them inside of me. A moan emanated from my lips, and I felt your hand escape from inside me and lift back up to my head. A quick grab and a hard thrust of your forearm and my head was slammed into the wall again. I released another groan of discomfort as I heard you order me to keep quiet. I did not argue. Returning a split second later down to my thighs, you wasted no time in shoving your fingers back into me. I bit my lip so as to deter another moan from escaping my lungs. As you began to roughly thrust your fingers in and out of me, your lips finally came in contact with my neck: along with your teeth. It was almost as if the harder you thrust, the harder you bit down on my flesh... or perhaps it was the other way around... I was so lost in arousal that I could not tell the difference. My body was already more than responding to your thrusts, to your fingers, and your mouth: I was drenched. I felt my juices lubricating your fingers thoroughly, allowing you to continuously rape my cunt with your hand. Beginning to come to the brink, I felt you insert another finger to join with the other two. I grinded my teeth together, having to hold my breath to keep the shout of ecstasy from exploding out. Feeling my discomfort, you let out a guttural laugh into the top of my shoulder. "Let's get you moved onto the bed," were the only words you spoke as you began to move me, your hand escaping from inside me and moving automatically to the back of my head. Jerking my hair downward, my chin shot up in the air. You turned my head slightly and exposed the abuse you had inflicted upon my neck. I felt your smile and heard you whisper something to confirm your approval. Putting too much faith perhaps into my submission, you instructed me to stay put with my hands behind my back while you went to retrieve the handcuffs. But I wanted to play. A second after you'd let me go, so as to gain a bit of distance in between us, I began to take off for the doorway. You saw me (and heard me) out of the corner of your eye, and immediately... and easily... kicked at the back of my knees, obviously thrusting me into the floor. Not expecting the gentle yet powerful turn of events, I fell all the way down, tripping over myself. Just as I was trying to get up, you quickly moved over to me and put your foot into my back, pressing hard. "Now did I not instruct you to stay put?" "Yes." "So then why the fuck didn't you listen to me? Do I need to remind you what listening is?" "No." "Get up." I felt your foot press down even harder into the back of my ribcage just before you released the pressure. I coughed a bit, and pulled myself back up. I stood and waited for you to retrieve the handcuffs, and a few other objects of my affection. "Open." I opened my mouth as I watched you bring my ball gag up to my face. You shoved it into my mouth and turned me around so you could fasten it... nice and tight: keeping my jaw hinged painfully open. "Now maybe you will listen a little better." I nodded. I felt you guide me with your hand on my back towards the bed, and stop at the edge of it. As I began to get up onto the bed, you jerked my arm back, stopping me from advancing any further. "My way," was all you said. I nodded. You proceeded to remove my clothes, so was completely exposed to you and your will... I watched you walk around the bed and get up onto your knees onto it. Steadying yourself, you pulled yourself over closer to me. I watched you reach up, and grab onto my hair again. Believing for some reason you were simply guiding me, I did not try to struggle. However, I soon realized that you were doing this to shove me down onto the bed, leading yourself off of the bed and pulling me hard onto it as you came closer to the edge. You were pulling my weight with my hair, smiling and laughing as you watched me try to keep up with your pulling so as not to feel too much harm. Finally I was on the bed the way you wanted me, and you took no time in straddling me and cuffing my hands together. You pulled my rope out as I watched you in silence try to envision what the best way to tie me was. Finally, after about a minute or so, you came to your desired result, and began to bind me. You ordered me and positioned me as you desired: with my hands above my head lying on the bed, my legs up in the air and spread. You looped the middle of the rope across the back of my knees and around them once, and ran the two ends up through the loops of my handcuffs. Further looping it underneath the bed, you brought the rope back up onto the bed and tied the two ends to the rope spread across the backs of my knees. There was no moving forward or backward, however, I found I could move a little side to side. You almost knew what I was thinking. "You can move a bit from left to right. I did that on purpose. I want to see you squirm." You paused. "I believe it's about time for some torture, eh?" I did not respond, but pleaded yes in my mind. You reached onto the dresser and retrieved a blindfold. Moving around the ropes, you tied it tightly to cover my eyes and nose, so I couldn't even see the light in the room. Now, completely at your mercy, I waited. The next thing I felt was your weight coming onto the bed with me, and you laying down on your stomach. I knew what you were about to do, but was not prepared for your hot breath on my open pussy. I felt your hands touch my thighs, grasping them, grabbing them. Your tongue finally began to touch my spread flesh, gently tracing circles around my clit. This was the first gentle touch I had felt from you in over an hour. You felt me begin to squirm as you continued this slow, agonizing, teasing, circular pattern on my clit. My moans were of course muffled and almost silenced from the gag in my mouth, but my building desire was more than obvious. I could feel your tongue driving at me, flicking and rubbing on my clit as hard as you could. Normally, I wouldn't like that sensation, but now... it was igniting my passion. My fingernails were digging into my hands as you continued to get more and more rough with my pussy - now sucking, hard, and using your teeth. You found that the thing that brought the most intense reaction from me was grinding your teeth into my clit... so you kept repeating it. Over and over, you repeated the rhythm of circling with your tongue, sucking it into your mouth, biting down, and grinding... over and over... until you felt my legs begin to shake and my muscles begin to tense. Lifting your head up, you get off of the bed and hear me scream into my gag. "Oh I'm sorry, does my little girl want to cum?" All I could do was attempt to nod, even though my head was spinning. You replied with, "On my time, slut." I attempted another nod. I began to feel you walking around, leaving the room, and returning. I tried to concentrate on what I was hearing, but all I could tell was your location: I had no idea what was going to happen next. I bit down on my gag, hard, when I felt the coldness on my pussy. You had retrieved some ice cubes from the freezer, and were beginning to insert them inside of me. First one, then two... then I felt a third enter me. Already shaking and freezing from the drop in temperature inside my body, I felt my head turning from side to side, attempting to forget the freezing. Just as I felt the last one slip inside, I let out a sigh of relief. Sure, they were inside me, but they would melt very quickly... I was not worried. Not ten seconds after I felt the ice cubes enter me, I felt your fingers inside of me again... shoving them in HARD. You had thrust them as deep as possible, and I could feel that you were attempting to move the ice cubes around. Little did I know, you had a plan that was more than to just "play" with them inside me. I felt your fingers pull out, and my largest toy attempt to pass through my opening. I tried to sway sideways to block the intrusion, it hurt... but you did not allow me. With no verbal response, you grasped my thigh tightly, signaling me not to move. I whimpered into my gag and threw my head back, I did NOT want this inside of me! With one big continuous push, you guided the large vibrator inside me, one inch... two... three... and then it hit me. I knew why you were doing this. You kept pushing, further and deeper as my stomach began to tense. I tore into my gag with my teeth as you gave the toy one last push and held it there... deep. You were going to hold it there for the ice cubes to melt deep inside me, and instead of the cold water leaking out and allowing my body to return to it's natural temperature, you were holding it inside of me. I assumed that you would let go and get up, to watch me writhe maybe, or perhaps to get the next toy that you would be violating my body with... but you stayed put, holding the vibrator inside of me, not turned on, and waited. The temperature was not getting any warmer and I felt the deep insides of my pussy getting numb. The ice cubes were pressed up against my cervix, allowing the coldness to travel further inside of me. Tears began to fill my eyes as the cold seemed to become more intense as I felt them melt... I needed the relief of the warm air, I needed heat. Finally, I felt you get up and leave the vibrator inside of me. Afraid that you were going to leave me there, I began to whine and whimper, almost silently begging for you to come back. "I'm not going far," was your response. You knew how much I needed you, and trusted you, because I stopped panicking, and tried to relax and await your return. Knees first, you came back onto the bed and rested at your previous position, but sitting up this time. Relaxed that you had returned, I breathed out a sigh of relief that I immediately took back inside my lungs, because you had reached down and pushed on the toy, pushing it into me further. You reached down and turned on the vibrator, high, just as I began crying from the coldness. "This will make it better," you said... I assumed you were speaking of the vibrations. A second later, I felt my hips jump off of the bed at least an entire inch - you had gotten up to get a candle... and were dripping the hot wax onto my pussy. I felt the wax run down my lips just before it cooled. I had never experienced wax on that part of my body before: it was intense. You continued to drip wax onto my pussy, and my inner thighs as you felt me writhe and squirm below you. My pussy was clenching, hard, around the vibrator, and you knew it. You knew what this was doing to me. After my mind finally found a place to stop spinning, I felt you lean up and set the candle down on the dresser. Thankful that this temperature torture was over, swearing that you were going to pull the toy out, I felt you instead reach further, and, what I found out five seconds later, reach for another candle. My back arched and my breath was caught in my throat as I felt the wax now begin to pour down onto my exposed nipples, making them hard. I felt you reach down and pinch and twist them, digging the wax into me with your fingernails. First one, then the other, you continued to pour the hot wax onto my breasts, and then pinch and twist them until you knew I couldn't take any more. The pressure was still building in my stomach and my pussy... the sensations were incredible, and almost too much. I felt my breath being harder and harder to retrieve from my lungs as you continued to torture my breasts and my nipples. Finally, after what had seemed hours, you again leaned over to set the candle down. I prayed and prayed that you did not grab another one, and this time you didn't. Instead, you grabbed something else that you knew drove me utterly insane: my clothespins. You reached down to my right nipple and pulled up on it. More. More. Then even more, until I was practically lifting off of the bed by my nipple. You released me and I fell back down, just before you reached down again and pinched my nipple to attach the clothespin. You saw my chest rise up and down from my hard breathing as I felt you release it and do the same to the other nipple, first pulling on it, then attaching the clothespin. You reached down and grabbed them, twisting them inward towards each other, and pulling up. Pain shot through my spine as I felt you jerk them so hard that they came off. It felt as if you had torn my flesh, until you put them right back on and did it over again. The wax was long gone by now, haven fallen off from the pulling and stretching of my skin, but I could still feel bits of the heat pouring onto me; into me. You repeated this agonizing torture twice more on my nipples until you were satisfied enough that I had endured enough pain, and left them on; but of course not without pinching and twisting the shit out of them before you let go. You added two more to each nipple, one above the center one, and one below, so now I had six clothespins on my breasts. I fucking loved it. "Now, I'll bet you've forgotten this by now, haven't you?" you asked me just before you reached down and pushed your hand hard onto the base of my vibrator, shoving it deeper inside of me. I grunted through my gag and let out a crying sound as I was reminded of the pressure that I had indeed forgotten. "Well, why don't we take this out, huh? I think I'm ready to get something for myself," you said as you pulled out the vibrator, agonizingly slowly. I felt the water leaking out of me quickly, and running down my ass crack onto the bed beneath me. "There's a good little girl," I heard you say as you reached down to spank my pussy a few times, just lightly tapping me at first and then giving me one hard slap. I knew you were about to fuck me... there was no way that you weren't wanting to be inside of me by this point. Proving I was right, I felt you lean yourself upwards and quite easily shove your cock into my pussy. I was amazed that except for the very outer penetration, I could not feel your cock fucking me... except there was one part of me that the ice hadn't touched to make it numb: my g-spot. I felt you angle yourself, as if you were reading my mind, to make sure that you were full-on hitting my sweet spot. I felt your thrusts and your cock beginning a hard, fast, driving rhythm. I had never been pounded so hard so quickly, and you could tell. D is for Dream "Come on, baby, open up that pussy for me. Make it easier on yourself because I'm not going to fucking stop or slow down," you commanded. Of course, I couldn't feel myself being tense, but I tried as hard as I could to relax my muscles mentally. Whether or not it helped, I couldn't tell, because you kept driving your cock inside of me harder and harder. Over and over I felt your cock head brushing against my g-spot: with every deep, forceful thrust. Just as I had forgotten about the clothespins on my nipples, I felt you reach down and yank on the middle ones - pulling on all three somehow at the same time. I dug my fingernails into my palms again as I felt you twist them and pinch them harder. They had been on for at least five minutes now and were getting sore. You let them down, then pulled them back up, then back down, then back up. You continually pulled and tugged on them as you thrust your cock into me over and over. I could not bring myself to decide whether I was feeling pain or pleasure, but all I could figure out was that this was the most intense feeling I had ever experienced. Just as I felt my true orgasm building, I felt you suddenly pull out your cock and line it up with my ass. Remembering that I had not had any stimulation, any penetration there at all in over a week, I tried as hard as I could to encourage you not to enter my tight asshole. However, my sorry attempts failed, because you knew where you wanted, and you wanted inside of my ass. My teeth once again dug into my gag as I attempted to prepare myself for the penetration, but I soon found that nothing could have. I clenched my ass around the head of your cock after you had very forcefully inserted it into me. "Oh no, you're not getting out of this one," was all you replied as I felt you continue to push inside of me... stretching and ripping my ass open to accept your cock. Tears were now free flowing from my eyes as you continued to shove inside of me and tug on my clothespins... torturing every part of my body. I prayed for this to be over, I prayed for you to realize how much you were hurting me and pull out, but instead I felt you start a painful, powerful rhythm, destroying my tight asshole. I knew you could tell you were hurting me, and I could tell you were getting off to it! You wanted to continually make me endure any pain that you could impose upon me, and wanted me to take it willingly and quietly. Obedient to your desires, I attempted to relax as I felt you only rape my ass harder and harder with every thrust. My breasts were numb from the torture and pulling and stretching... my entire body practically became numb from this man's torture. From your torture. Just when I didn't think I could take any more of this agonizing... wait, pleasurable? I began to feel my ass loosen up around your cock as I finally could breathe and accept your hard cock into me. I wanted it inside of me. I felt my arousal growing as you continued to fuck my ass, continued to twist and release my nipples, and continued to make me your little slut. Just as I was thoroughly enjoying myself, I felt you coming closer to orgasm... your breathing became more shallow; your rhythm more intense. Not too long after I realized this, I felt your body begin to shake against my thighs, and I heard you let out a loud groan... letting me know that you had just came deep inside of my tight ass. I felt you continue to thrust gently for a minute or so before you decided to pull out. You looked down and saw your cum dripping out of my asshole, and let it be. You wanted me to feel your cum inside of me. Frustrated and angry, I began to whimper again. "What's wrong, baby? I just came in your ass, you filthy little girl, what more could you want now?" You paused. "Oh, I know what you want, you want to cum, don't you, you filthy little fucking slut? You want to cum for me?" I nodded. "Good. I'm not stopping until you do." You reached into my drawer and pulled out my blue toy, my favorite vibrator, and turned it up all the way. You wasted no time in placing it on my clit, and beginning to move it around. It did not take me long to become very close to orgasm, to feel my body getting hotter and my muscles begin to tense again. I thought that, recognizing this, you would pull my toy away, but instead you kept it on and kept your gentle rhythm going. Within seconds, I released a very intense orgasm that shook through my entire body - the massaging from the vibrator became lightning as it shot electric waves through me, surging my orgasm... making it powerful. Knowing you would not be satisfied, I attempted to keep my head straight as I felt you continue your ministrations, almost not even faulting, as if you didn't even notice. For the next five minutes, you kept your pace and calmness, not attempting to penetrate me, not attempting to fuck me, but merely attempting to make me cum again. I felt you reach up and take my clothespins off, one by one. I would have let out a loud shriek with each one as I felt the sting of release and soreness of the pressure. After they were all off, I felt you lean down, with the vibe still on my clit, and begin to bite. Hard. I did not know what you were doing because you knew that I couldn't cum this way, but sure enough you continued to bite and suck on my nipples until they almost began to bleed. Just as I was begging you to stop hurting me in my head, I felt another giant wave of orgasm shoot through me. I had no idea what caused it; I couldn't pinpoint what it was that got me off that quickly and that forcefully without me even noticing. Your teeth clamped down onto my left nipple as I bucked up and down off of the bed in ecstasy. The second orgasm always being more powerful than the first, you were expecting this. But, once again, I was not ready for what was next. Swearing by now you would be satisfied, I waited for you to pull the toy off of my clit, and stop my orgasm... only to find out that you had no plans to do so whatsoever. You continued to push and press and rub around my clit with my vibrator at full speed, even after my second exploding orgasm. If I had lost my head before, I had no idea where it was at this point, because I could not even group thoughts together in sentences. 'Stop hurting me, please' turned into, 'stop... pain...' in my head - my thoughts swirling around and thrusting themselves into a million different directions. I could not have told you to stop at this point even if I had wanted to. Even after what must have been close to 45 minutes of ministrations, you faithfully continued to rub my swollen, tortured clit. I couldn't even distinguish in between my true arousal and the arousal in my head, I couldn't focus on your teeth or the vibrator... everything was moving together in sync, slowly, then fast, rushing between the two and leaving me no room to breathe or even focus on my arousal. One more, two more, three more orgasms I felt shoot through me in under a minute. They began to string together, no time in between as spasm after spasm erupted from within me, catching my breath and grasping my thoughts, erasing them all. I could no longer feel my limbs, or even your teeth still biting down on my nipples, that I could swear were probably bleeding by now. I heard your groans and sounds of approval in the distance, wanting and needing me to cum just one more time. I didn't know, and had no way of telling whether or not you knew what I was feeling and experiencing... and I was beginning not to care. The next thing I felt, somehow, was you pulling the vibe quickly off of my clit and then placing it back down onto me. The pause of touch in between pushed me even further into my euphoric, incoherent state, and before too much longer... I felt myself fade into blackness. I felt your hand slap me across the face as you attempted to pull me back into reality, the water splashing on you as well as me. "Wake up, come on, baby, come out of it. We're done now," was the last thing I heard from you before I finally came to completely. Still shaking and amazed that I could stand, my eyes closed gently as I felt you uncuff me and support my weight enough to carry me to the bed. You gave me a kiss on the cheek as I felt your hand once more reach down to my pussy... D Is For Dungeon Inspired by Sue Grafton’s alphabetical series. Paul Collins pressed the elevator button and loosened his tie, his entire body slumping. He was beat. It was Friday night and he was ready for the Foster’s oilcan that was perfectly chilled and awaiting him in the refrigerator. He could almost feel the ice-cold lager sliding past his parched lips, over his sticky tongue and down his heated throat. Oh, it would be so good. He wondered if there was a game on tonight, maybe the Yankees? He smelled her perfume before he actually noticed her, floral and spicy. Black and tall, her black hair forming a curly frame around her beautiful face, her lips blood- red and shiny. She looked at him and smiled with perfect white teeth, her violet eyes connecting with his, then looked away. He wanted to say something but he couldn’t find the words. She was like no woman he had ever seen before and she stirred something in him that … that … “Nice night.” He couldn’t believe that she had spoken to him. She turned that devilish smile on him, batting her eyes coquettishly at him. “Uh, yeah.” He stammered. “Nice night.” “Not too hot, not too cold.” Her raincoat fell open and he glimpsed the tops of brown breasts in a black corset dress and thigh-high boots. The breath left his lungs in a loud gasp and she just smiled. “Are you all right?” “Y – Yes. I’m okay.” He shoved his hand into his pocket to adjust his suddenly hard cock. “Just a little tired, I guess.” “Hard day at the office.” Was he hallucinating? Did she really just emphasize the word hard? “Uh, yeah.” “Harder than usual?” His heart hammered in his chest. “Uh, yeah.” The ding of the elevator bell startled him and again, she smiled that little knowing smile, as if she was enjoying a private joke at his expense. She stepped into the vehicle, locking eyes with him. “Going down?” He woodenly entered the elevator and remained silent, pressing the lower level garage button, afraid to trust himself to speak. If she looked down, she could have seen that his dick was doing all the talking for him. He was so hard that it was painful. Just don’t look at her! He couldn’t resist. She was exquisite, something out of a manga video. Another ding and the elevator’s doors opened. “Have a good night.” “Yeah, you, too.” His head started clearing as soon as he left her presence and he laughed to himself. Maybe she was wearing some kind of pheromone perfume. At least his cock was going down. It would have been quite a problem to drive with that monster. He didn’t notice the white van that was edging closer to him or hear the sound of her high heels tapping behind him. By the time he noticed, it was too late. ***** “Awaken, sweet slave.” Paul’s head felt heavy. He tried to lift it but he couldn’t. He felt strange. His mouth was dry but he was unable to lick his lips. Something was in his mouth. He tried to raise his hand to remove the obstruction but he couldn’t. What the hell was going on? A slash of pain swiftly brought reality into focus, although the edges were still a bit blurry. His Nubian goddess was standing in front of his, wearing the same expression as she had in the elevator; a playful mixture of amusement and disgust. She held a cat-‘o-nine tails in her black-gloved grasp, running her fingers up and down its polished handle. “Ah, he’s awake.” He moaned in response. “Aw, does my poor slave want to speak?” She reached forward and popped the ball gag out of his mouth. “There. Now you are permitted to speak.” “Where the fuck am I?” “My dungeon, sweetie, and you’re just in time for the festivities.” “Festivities?” “Yes. My dungeon’s grand opening.” Paul shook his head in confusion and tried to stand upright. He couldn’t. That was when he noticed that he was locked in an ancient set of stocks, his head and hands hanging from the holes. “Could you get me out of this?” Her dazzling smile washed over him like cold water because it didn’t reach her dark eyes. “No.” “No? What do you mean, no?” The whip ripped across his legs and he cursed. “I mean, no. And my word is gospel.” “Who says?” She lashed him again, twice this time. “Did that answer your question?” He bit back angry words, his face turning red. “Good. Now, the rules. You do not speak unless I allow you to. You do not touch me unless I allow you to. You are always to be on your knees. You do not look at me unless I ask you to. You cannot cum unless I give you permission. You will do everything that I instruct you to without question. If you fail in any of task I give you or break any rules, you will be punished. Severity depends on how badly you’ve transgressed. Do you understand?” “Do you expect … OW!” The lash bit into his tender ass flesh again and she grabbed her jaw in one hand. “Do you understand?” Paul glared at her, realizing how untenable his situation was. This tantalizing black bitch was in total control and one word stood between an exciting journey and return to his lackluster life. He knew that if he played his cards right, he’d get to fuck her and that made it all worthwhile. “Yes.” “Good.” She pushed the gag back into his mouth. “I think we should get started with a little discipline, just to get you in the groove.” Paul didn’t know what she was talking about so when the first slap of the paddle hit his left ass cheek, his muffled shout was filled with indignation. She moved around to the front of the stocks and looked at his face. He was rapidly nodding his head ‘no’. She moved back and slapped him again, twice in succession, then rubbed her hand over the reddened area. Her leather-encased hand felt good on the hot skin and he shivered in anticipation. His entire body jerked when her hand slid between his legs and briefly cupped and stroked his balls and rigid cock. “Ah, yes, you do like it.” He hated the smile in her voice. Bitch! But she was right. He did like it. He liked giving someone else the control. He hadn’t realized it until now. “I knew you would.” Another slap, then another, this time on his right cheek. The burn spread across his skin and his dick seemed to harden even more in response. A deep moan escaped him. A few more whacks on each cheek, then her cool hand, gently massaging, sliding over his hard tool and balls again. She gave him a small smile, standing in front of him. “You will address me Mistress Jasmyyn. Is that understood?” He nodded. “Good. Now let’s get you into something more comfortable.” Paul’s body sagged in relief. His legs were sore from standing so long and his wrists were going numb. Oh, how wonderful a nice, soft bed would be now! She moved underneath him and he groaned, feeling her hot mouth and teeth on his nipples. His cock leaped in response, a groan humming through his entire body. The excruciating pain that next followed was a surprise. Jasmyyn applied the other nipple clamp and sat back to observe her work. They were rubber-encased because she didn’t want to hurt him. Yet. “Like those, slave?” He moaned. The pain had subsided greatly and was replaced with a dull throb of delicious pleasure. He felt so weak. He wasn’t ready for the super-tight cock ring that she slid onto his stalk and couldn’t contain himself. Thick ropes of his jizz flew across the room, splashing on the floor. She was absolutely livid. “What did I tell you?” He trembled at the fury in her voice. She ripped the gag from his mouth. “What did I tell you were the rules?” “To wait for your permission, mistress.” “And you did not!” “I’m sorry, mistress. It’s just that when you touched me … “ “SILENCE!” Her shout was punctuated with a lash from her whip. He whimpered. “You have broken a rule and you must be punished.” “I said I was sorry, mistress.” “Sorry does not cut it, especially when I did not give you permission!” She angrily slapped the whip’s handle across her palm. “I have something to make you remember your place.” She stepped out of his line of sight and he heard her moving behind him. The thick leather of a cuff surrounded his right wrist and after a loud click, the top block of the stock lifted. She pulled his right wrist behind his back, yanked the left one back and quickly cuffed it before he had a chance to react. The spreader’s bar restricted his movement, keeping his arms apart. “Drop to your knees.” That wasn’t a problem for him. His legs were already weak from standing so long and he sagged to the floor. “Now, clean the floor.” “What?” “Clean up your mess. I don’t want your cum on my clean floors so clean it.” “What am I supposed to clean it with?” “Your tongue, of course.” “What? No way, bitch.” The whip’s lash bit into his ass flesh and he hissed in pain. “Do as I say. Any further dissention will bring more punishment.” She flicked the whip again and again, red welts rising on his pristine skin. “Now clean.” Paul’s eyes watered as he bent over his cum slick. God, this was horrible! Not only did he have to clean the floor with his tongue, but he had to eat his own cum. His eyes glanced at the shadow over his shoulder and he knew he’d feel the whip again if he didn’t move. His tongue stretched out and licked a gob from the floor. The slightly salty taste spread across his mouth and he took a moment. It wasn’t too bad, he decided and eagerly bent to his work. She gave him a couple more lashes for good measure and sternly supervised his actions. “Good.” She watched him rise, then bent to attach the cock ring. He stood patiently, grimacing at the pain, surprised that he was getting hard again so quickly. She slapped the head with her hand, laughing. “You are turning out to be such a slut.” Paul quivered, his blood pounding. “Thank you, mistress.” “Well, I think that’s enough punishment for one session.” She uncuffed him from the spreader bar. “I require you to service me.” From his knees, he looked up at her, lust lighting his eyes. “What would you have me do, mistress?” “First, you shall bathe and then you shall bathe me.” She tossed him a towel and a razor. “And make sure you shave every bit of hair off your body.” He started to complain but decided not to. Being completely shaved wouldn’t be a bad thing. She showed him where the shower was and he scrubbed thoroughly, trying to shave as quickly as possible without cutting himself. Jasmyyn looked pleased when he stepped out and closely inspected his balls and ass cleft. “You did a good job, slave. I will give you a small reward.” She gave his cock a few hard strokes, then quickly released him. “Now, bathe me.” Paul watched in awe as his mistress undressed, devouring each inch of her chocolate skin with his eyes. Her shoulders were broad, her breasts slightly sloped and capped with huge dark chocolate nipples and her pussy completely shaved. He wanted to run his hands over her slender hips and down those muscular legs. Better yet, he wanted to clean her with his tongue. He stood behind her in the shower, washing her with the soapy washcloth. She turned to face him and pushed him to his knees. Without warning, she started to pee on him. He flinched, trying to move away, but she wouldn’t let him. The warm fluid flowed over his face and dripped down his chest, swirling down the drain. Her eyes met his, daring him to object but he did not. He rinsed himself off, then reached up to clean her pussy. He felt the heat rise to his ears as he watched her rub against his cloth-covered fingers, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the friction. She stepped back into the spray of the water and rinsed. Paul had a towel ready when she stepped out and rubbed her dry. She smiled at him, warming his blood. “Stay here.” She returned with a thick leather collar and a leash. She snapped it around his neck, attaching the leash then jerked him forward. “You’re mine.” She whispered silkily, her lips just inches from his. “Every part of you belongs to me. Understand?” “Yes, mistress.” “And you will do everything I ask?” “Yes, mistress.” “Without question?” “Yes, mistress.” Paul felt as if she was hypnotizing him. He was falling into the fathomless brown eyes, losing himself bit by bit. “You may kiss me.” He leaned forward and pressed his mouth against hers. When his tongue slipped out to touch her, she recoiled. “What are you doing?” “Kissing you, mistress.” “I did not say that you could French me, slave. You have not yet earned that privilege.” “I’m sorry, mistress.” “Drop to your knees and lick my feet.” Paul did as he was asked, painting her feet with his saliva until she told him to stop. She yanked on the leash and led him into another part of the dungeon. A huge four-poster bed sat in this room, the sheets clean and inviting. “If you please me, you can sleep on the floor next to my bed. If not, you’ll sleep in the cage.” His eyes slid over to a black cage in the far corner. “Lie down and close your eyes.” Paul lay absolutely still as she attached the wrist and ankle cuffs to him, leaving him spread-eagled and vulnerable. His rock hard cock pointed to the ceiling and his nipples throbbed from the clamps but he was excited beyond belief. He felt her weight on the bed, moving toward his body, then straddling his chest. “Open your eyes, slave.” The bulbous end of a strap-on dildo rested inches from his lips. She moved up, placing the head on his chin. “Suck me.” He opened his mouth and accepted her thrust, closing his eyes. It was obvious that Jasmyyn was pleased with his actions because she began to stroke his painfully hard prick. “Mmmm, you’re doing a great job, slave. You really know how to suck a cock.” His tongue traveled all over the plastic phallus, his lips sucking the wide head. He was more than a little upset when she removed it from his mouth. Jasmyyn reached behind his head and pulled a tube of lube from under the pillow. His eyes widened. “Mistress?” “Quiet, slave.” Paul watched as she moved down his body, kneeling between his legs and rubbing the lube on his asshole. He tried to tighten his sphincter muscle but her finger powered past his resistance. “You don’t know yet, slave, but you’ll learn to like this.” “Oh, shit!” She pressed the head to his anal opening and gave a little shove. His body jerked but the restraints held him still. She applied more pressure, licking her lips as she watched the bright orange dildo disappear in his ass. He moaned when she reached bottom, his entire body shaking with pleasure. “Oh, mistress!” “I knew you’d like it and if I do this … “ She rotated her hips upward, letting the head graze his prostate and stars burst in his eyes, the pleasure intense. He whimpered. “Mmm, yes. You felt that, didn’t you?” “Yes, mistress. Please, mistress. Again!” Jasmyyn obliged her slave, thrusting in again and adding the rotation. Paul couldn’t stop himself but he whimpered again, breathless with the sensations. “I think that’s enough, slave. I don’t want you to cum. Not just yet at least.” “Oh, mistress, please!” He could hardly believe that the whiny voice was coming from his own mouth. “Please let me cum!” “You’re begging me to let you cum?” “Yes, mistress. Please!” “Even though your begging is pleasing to me, I must say no.” He felt the dildo sliding out his asshole and he almost felt like crying. “You have yet to service me and I cum first.” The tension of his stretched arms and legs lessened and he realized that she had freed him. He rolled onto his knees, watching her crawl onto the bed and lie back. She spread those luscious dark thighs, her two-toned pussy open to his view, her eyes meeting his. “Are you waiting for an invitation, slave?” “No, mistress. I am just thanking my lucky stars that I get the privilege of servicing your pussy.” She smiled, sending a bolt of warmth through his thighs. “You’ve learned pretty quickly, slave. I am very impressed with you.” Mistress Jasmyyn laid back, her hands folded behind her head. “I’ll make you a deal. I want you to eat me and I want you to lick every bit of my cum until I’m clean. If you can make me beg you to stop, then I’ll let you fuck me.” She turned onto her stomach, raising just enough for Paul to see her fat pussy lips squeezed between those tasty thighs. “Think you can do that?” “Yes, mistress.” “And if I allow you to fuck me, “ She raised onto her knees, her heavy nipples swaying beneath her. “I want to be fucked. Understand?” “Yes, mistress.” “You think you can fuck me?” “I think I could make you happy, mistress.” Paul moved behind her, his mouth watering at the sight of her glistening slit. “I also think that you could train me to better service you.” Jasmyyn turned her head to look at him. “And you would accept this training?” “Oh, yes, mistress.” “Without question?” “Without question and with every bit of my heart.” Paul waited behind her, his jaw aching in anticipation. Her voice was soft. “Then you may begin.” He slid in behind her and just took a deep whiff of her sex smell. Her scent was musky and sweet. He trembled, hoping that he was good enough to satisfy her. He flipped onto his back and slid between her legs, pulling her hips and pussy down to his waiting mouth. She moaned at the contact, pressing down on his face. He moved his head up and down so that his mouth and nose were rubbing her opening and her hidden clit and was quickly rewarded with her loud intake of breath. “Fuck my face, mistress.” He pulled her back down onto his mouth, looping his arms around her hips to keep her from rising up. She looked down into his eyes and moved again, shuddering as his tongue slid deep into her hole and his nose pressed against her clit. It took a moment for her to find a steady rhythm and she fucked his face for everything that she was worth, screaming aloud as she came hard. Once she’d recovered, he flipped her over and began to ravage her pussy all over again, forming his tongue into a spear and ramming it viciously into her sodden snatch. Her body writhed beneath him, her throat releasing strange noises as she hurtled toward another orgasm. He grinned and pushed her onto her side, moving between the scissors of her legs and burying his face in her snatch once again. This time, he was the aggressor, grasping her hips in his hands and driving her to yet another climax, his flat tongue licking her clean. “Please!” She gasped, releasing him from her legs. “Please, stop!” Paul did as she asked, making sure that she was clean with feathery licks and tantalizing sucks. His dick ached to sink into her chocolate pudding. He hoped that she remembered her promise. “You may claim your reward.” Paul gently maneuvered her onto her knees and sank his stiff cock into her weeping hole. She groaned, pushing her shoulders down so he could assault her pussy. He slammed himself into her, grunting every time the cock ring met her skin. He was harder than granite, than ebony, than any diamond known to man, but he couldn’t cum. The ring held him hostage, deliciously prolonging his torment while he hammered her to another gasping orgasm. Now, he wanted to cum. He flipped her onto her back and pushed only the fat head of his cock into her pussy. She whimpered, shivering. He reached down and placed her hand on the slippery cock ring. Jasmyyn unsnapped the ring. “Thank you, mistress.” Paul gritted his teeth and moved into her again, stroking those cum-drenched walls with his engorged prick, enjoying every sensation that spread through his body. She responded to his touch like a wildcat, meeting him thrust for thrust, grinding her pussy into him. He felt it coming. It started at the base of his spine, working its way upward, moving in waves through his legs and stomach and making his skin tingle. They both exploded together, her legs clasped around his back, his hands gripping her hips. Paul thought he was going to pass out. Her rippling muscles kept milking him over and over and he collapsed next to her, moaning in the sweet aftermath. D is for Dyke Her friends called her "Cat", though at the moment she didn't have any friends. Cathy had run away from home when she was sixteen, hooking up with a group of kids who'd decided to travel across country, see the sights and party, party, party. That was three long years ago now. One by one their little band had dwindled as funds ran out, or as many eventually became home sick for family and friends. Cat was the last, now on her own, hitchhiking cross-country, finding work when she could before moving on. She had no one to go home to. An abusive stepfather, drug addicted mother who'd never really even been a mother, and no siblings to look to for help. She hadn't eaten anything substantial for two days, aside from a bag of chips she'd lucked out in causing to fall from a vending machine, and scrounging just enough change to buy herself a cup of coffee at a nearby truck-stop where she hoped to hitch a ride to wherever she could get one. She'd spent considerable time in the bathroom grooming herself, using the soap from the dispenser to wash her hair with. Tempted to cut it off as to make things easier, Cat refrained from actually doing so. In doing so, she felt it would be a way of surrendering to her situation, circumstances, and she wasn't about to give in just yet. Brushing her long auburn hair as best she could, wincing at the tangles she encountered, she received a very dirty look from a woman who'd entered to use the facilities. Cat stood in front of the mirror, topless, her small pointed breasts very much in appearance as she stood fighting with her hair. "This IS a public restroom you know," the woman said glaring at her. "Go fuck yourself!" Cat spat at her, hissing. "Mind your own fucking business!" Almost immediately the woman turned and left, Cat figured she had at best another two or three minutes before the manager of the truck stop came looking for her. It was time to leave. "Shit!" she thought to herself as she pulled on one of the few remaining tank tops she still had. She'd spent every last dime she had on the coffee, and still hadn't scored another ride as yet. All she could do now was go outside, stand around and wait for one of the truckers to head for their rigs where she'd intercept them, and hopefully beg herself a ride. Almost as important as finding a ride, Cat needed a smoke too. She had slunk to the lowest of levels, finding a prick-assed guy who offered to give her one for a hand-job. She'd been desperate then, stepping out behind the 7-11 where he worked, quickly getting him off where he then had tossed her a whole pack. She wouldn't be quite that stupid again next time. Hand-jobs were definitely worth a whole pack, and if she liked the guy, maybe a blowjob for an entire carton. Right now, she could use a single smoke, but couldn't help but wonder what she'd be willing to do for that right about now. "Mr.? Can I bum one of those off you?" she asked as a tall lanky-looking like cowboy complete with a large black Stetson on his head, and a pair of well worn pointy-toed boots left the café, lighting up one for himself the moment he stepped outside. He stood, eyeing her briefly as though curious as to her age before fishing another one out of the pack he was holding. "Thanks," she said as he handed one to her, then cupped the same match he had used to light his with as she leaned in taking the welcomed flame. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra pack on you," she dared asking. 'Tex', as she now thought of him, stood there looking at her as he took a drag on his smoke. Cat did the same, enjoying the sudden heady rush from having gone so long without one. She could tell a lot from a person's eyes, almost reading their minds. Something you learned to do if you were going to live out on the streets. Sometimes it could save your life. He didn't have an evil look about him, wasn't all that unattractive either, but she had seen that look before. And the price of cigarettes was about to go up. "Don't have one I'll just give ya," he drawled. "But if'n you want it, you can earn it," he leered at her knowingly. "Where's your rig?" she asked without haggling further. That surprised him a little, but he smiled. "He must chew too," she thought silently to herself as the bright yellow stain of his smile greeted her. "Beggars can't be choosers," she thought to herself once again, and then followed him across the lot towards his eighteen-wheeler. "Climb aboard," he told her opening the door, then taking the liberty to place his hand on the cheeks of her ass, pushing her up and in, nearly tossing her as he did. "Gee, thanks," she replied somewhat indignantly. But Cat couldn't afford to piss this guy off either, she didn't have her smokes yet. Where she had all but climbed, he merely seemed to step, swinging into his seat, then sat there facing her with that same yellow grin. "What do you want?" she asked figuring this guy for a blowjob. "At least he smells clean," she considered thinking to herself. "A blowjob," he answered a bit nervously. Cat almost smiled. She had seen it in his eyes. "That'll cost you more than just a pack," she ventured. He shook his head no. "For a pack, you can feel my tits." "You don't have any." Cat ignored his comment. She was rather proud of her tits, even if they were small. "Two packs will get you a handjob," she said stiffly, letting him know there wasn't any room for bartering on this one. Tex sat there considering the price of his need. "How much for a blowjob then?" he said giving in. Cat almost told him two cartons, but then figured that might be pressing it, and she wasn't sure he had two cartons on him anyway, perhaps the one. Which she'd demand to see before doing anything. "A carton," she answered simply, quickly adding, "But I want to see it first!" Tex laughed. "Shit baby, how much for a fuck then? A case?" "I don't fuck for smokes," she told him. "That really would cost you." Truth was, Cat had never fucked anyone for anything. In the back of her mind, that's what kept her this side of being a prostitute. Exchanging smokes for sexual favors was one thing, actually exchanging money for them was something else. And regardless of who she was, or what she'd become, her pussy still belonged to her, or whoever she chose to share it with. As Tex sat looking at her, she had a brief worry he might actually take her up on the offer. Breathing a sigh of relief when he reached into a cooler behind him handing her a carton of Camels. Having payment in hand, Cat reached over and began unzipping his fly. "Take your shirt off," he told her. She frowned. "Come on, give me something to look at, otherwise it will take a lot longer that way." They were sandwiched between two other rigs, so the likelihood of being seen was remote. And should anyone approach, she was reasonably certain she would hear them long before they could climb up inside their own rigs and see anything. Cat reached down pulling the tank top she was wearing up and over her head. As she did, she felt one of his beefy hands roughly mall her small breast. She was about to comment, then let it go. Fishing his rapidly hardening erection out of his pants, she squeezed it, looking for any kind of tell-tale sign of disease, even smelling it briefly before judging him to be ok, slipping him inside her mouth. "Don't fucking cum in my mouth, or I'll bite it off!" she warned as she continued mouthing him. Tex merely grunted an acknowledgment, his hand still roughly kneading and squeezing her breast. She shifted as though uncomfortable, hoping to dislodge his hand, but he simply followed her movement, if anything digging even deeper, more painfully into her flesh. As she continued sucking, she could only wonder where it was he might be heading, and then...wondered what it might cost her in getting a lift for a ways. Normally, just sitting next to the driver with her shirt off was the way to do it. Most got a kick out of having a female passenger sitting next to them flashing tits down the highway. But as Tex was obviously into bigger breasts than hers were, she wasn't sure that would be enough of an incentive to give her a lift. She might, "might" she considered thinking to herself as she continued sucking his half-erect prick, that she might have to resort to the promise of yet another blowjob in order to achieve that. If that was the case, then she'd best make this a good one, otherwise he might just kick her ass out the moment he'd climaxed. Cat began to concentrate on what she was doing. "Oh yeah baby, yeah! That's it! Suck it! Suck my fucking cock!" he moaned pleasurably. Cat sat there sucking him, trying to gage how close he was getting, not wanting any surprises, and not trusting him to tell her when he was about to pop his load. "Almost there," he actually mewled in a half-whisper, surprising her that he had warned her ahead of time. She sat up, now taking over more fully with her hand as she fisted him, pulling and stroking his cock with a continual up and down motion, watching his face as he sat there grimacing, eyes closed on the brink of orgasm. He came suddenly, thrusting his hips upwards, his prick loosing a jettison of cream that shot upwards hitting the dash, though most of his spunk merely flowed from the tip of his prick bathing her fist afterwards. When he had finished, Cat let go, sitting back, her hands sticky, covered in semen. "You have something I can use to wipe this off with?" she asked. He tucked his prick back inside his pants, shook his head no, and then answered. "Sorry...no, use your shirt or something," he sneered once again taking control. She had no intention of doing that, and did the next best thing. She wiped his funky spunk into her breasts, massaging it in like lotion. It might not have been her preferred choice, but it was a hell of a lot better than ruining one of her only tees. She could always wash up later, but the opportunity to do any laundry was a definite uncertainty. "Where you headed?" she asked finally as he sat there with a somewhat surprised expression on his face as she finished massaging the last vestiges of his cream into her breasts. "Reno." "Mind if I catch a lift with you there?" She saw the look in his eyes, knew he was about to tell her to get out. "I'll give you another blowjob when we get there," she told him. He closed his mouth, about to speak, then didn't, thinking. Unfortunately, the look was still there. "I'll give you another when we're halfway too," she offered. That one seemed to close the deal. "Ok, but keep your shirt off...I like seeing your tits!" he told her. "Thought you didn't like my little tits," she told him. "Well, they're better than nothing!" he retorted. They drove for several hours, most of it in silence. By the road signs, Cat figured they'd reach Reno sometime early evening, which meant she was due to give him another blowjob sometime the next morning. As such, she had enough time to perhaps catch a few winks before then. "Mind if I get some sleep?" she asked looking back into the cab where his sleeper was. "Go ahead," he told her. Cat climbed into the back, pushed away some of his discards, junk and some minor trash. "You got anything to eat back here?" she questioned hopefully. Once again he lifted the top of the cooler. "Help yourself." Cat quickly located the second half of a cold sandwich, along with an almost too ripe banana and some stale Twinkies. But to her, it was a feast, which she consumed quickly before laying out on the small bed falling asleep almost immediately. She woke just as the sun was coming up. "I need to pee," she stated, sitting up hating the feel of her crust-covered breasts as she scratched them. "Rest-stop three miles," he told her. "Was gonna wake you up anyway," he leered. "We're about half-way," he added with his yellow-faced grin. Cat nodded her head in understanding and smiled. "A deal is a deal," she thought to herself. Knowing she'd have to live up to her end, especially as they were pretty much out in the middle of nowhere. Even traffic was light, she'd only seen one another car pass them shortly before reaching the turnoff to the rest area. There were no other rigs in the lot either, and just one lone RV, no doubt some family that had driven as far as they dared without falling asleep. Grabbing her shirt, Cat decided it was safe enough to risk exposing herself rather than putting it back on before washing herself up. She jumped down out of the cab and began heading towards the restroom. "Where the fuck you going?" Tex said stopping her dead in her tracks. "I told you, I gotta pee!" "Not until you take care of this first," he leered once again. Cat noticed his very erect cock sticking out of his un-zippered Levi's as he stood there waving it at her. "Don't worry, it won't take long," he added. "Been playing with it the last few miles waiting for you to wake up." Resigned, Cat approached him. "Where?" she asked looking around for some reasonable place for privacy. "Behind the bathroom," Tex stated already beginning to walk in that direction, his prick now leading the way. All Cat could do was follow. He was right about one thing though, it really didn't take long. As urgently as she still needed to pee, obviously his urgency to cum was even greater. She stood holding his discharging prick in hand as he got a sick delight out of spraying the back side of the building with his cock-juice. "Don't take long," he told her. "I'm on a schedule." Cat headed into the restroom, finally emptying her overfull bladder. When she had finished, she wet a wad of paper towels, filled them with some of the dispensered soap, and finally began washing her breasts. She couldn't have been in there more than ten minutes when the sound of the truck's tires throwing gravel up in an obvious hurry reached her ears. Racing out of the bathroom, she saw Tex already reaching the end of the parking area. Running as fast as she could, cutting across the picnic area, she nearly reached him as he again turned, increasing speed now as he prepared to enter back out on to the highway. "Hey mother fucker!" Cat screamed. "You've got my stuff!" Her satchel, containing all her worldly possessions was still inside his rig. And...he knew it. She saw him stick his hand out the window waving good-bye, then blowing his horn in some sort of sadistic satisfaction at leaving her stranded there with nothing but the proverbial shirt on her back, which ironically, she was still merely holding in her hand. All Cat could do was wave back, though she used both middle fingers in doing so. She stood there briefly watching the taillights of his rig disappear down the road in the rapidly growing light. Once again she turned towards the RV, wondering if she dare approach them and ask for a ride. She knew however through experience, the likelihood of that happening was remote. Most would merely chose to ignore her completely, no matter how loudly she might pound on the door. A few actually carried guns for seeming protection, and would no doubt chase her away. Cat decided her best bet was to head out onto the highway itself. At least the chances of hitching a ride would be far greater rather than hanging around the rest area waiting for someone to show up, and then if she was even lucky enough, convincing whoever did in giving her a ride. No, her best bet by far was making it out onto the highway itself and hopefully catching a ride. Cat finally put her tank top back on, reaching the highway, and began to walk. The odds of catching a ride eventually weren't all that bad. Families traveling together would pass her by, ninety nine percent of them anyway. She had gotten a ride once from one such family, but then had had to endure a lecture about women hitchhiking alone until she'd asked to get out. Most of the time it was single guys, mostly salesmen traveling alone that picked her up. Usually they were pretty safe. Though most of these seemed to get off becoming suggestive if not downright vulgar. At least that she could put up with, even flirting back, as usually they were harmless with a wife and kids at home, and no intention of sticking their dicks into some strange pussy they weren't familiar with. Cat always got a kick out of seeing them act, like naughty little boys with "I fucked this hitchhiker out on the road looks," that Cat knew most would love telling their friends and buddies about. Without it really ever happening. No...the scary one's were the single guys who seemed normal. She'd heard the stories, and had passed up more than one such offer for a lift. Cat had been walking for at least twenty minutes without so much as a single car passing her by. The sun was just reaching the top of the mountain now, finally throwing some light down onto the highway. She hoped with the arrival of morning, traffic would increase, as would her chances. She saw a pair of headlights crest the ridge a head of her, sadly however, going in the opposite direction. "Just my fucking luck," she spoke to herself, watching the pickup truck as it sped on by. She continued to walk, surprised moments later when the glare of lights behind her appeared. Cat stepped off the shoulder slightly, not wanting to endanger herself in the event the driver failed to notice her, sticking her arm out thumb up with hopeful anticipation. To her surprise, she saw the vehicle slow, then pass pulling over just up ahead of her. It was the same truck she'd seen pass by heading the other way only moments ago. "You in trouble? Need a lift?" Cat stood peering in through the open window of the passenger side of the truck. At first, she wasn't sure if it was a man or a woman who had spoken to her. It had sounded like a woman's voice, albeit a deep one. But if it was in fact a woman who had spoken, she was a big one. And not big as in fat either, just big, husky big with a bit of a masculine look about her. "I'm headed this way," Cat stated, giving the driver a chance to beg off from her offer. "Some trucker just ripped me off, stole my stuff," she added though why she felt she needed to explain all that escaped her at the moment. "Name's Betty, jump in." the woman told her. "Thanks," Cat said climbing inside. "Think I might know where we'll find him," Betty assured her. "There's a truck stop about forty miles from here. They serve a great breakfast, so I'm willing to bet that's where we'll find him. Think you can remember what his rig looks like?" Betty asked. "No problem," Cat responded. "A big yellow one, just like his fucking teeth," she said grinning. Thirty minutes later they had reached the truck stop. Betty pulled her pick-up into the lot circling around. "See it?" "Yeah! That one! Over there!" Cat pointed. "See it?" Betty laughed. "Yeah, kind of hard to miss," she admitted. Betty pulled her pickup directly in front of the big eighteen-wheeler. "Now what?" Cat asked her. "We wait." Tex had already been there nearing an hour, so the odds were he'd be coming out soon if he really was on any kind of a schedule. Sure enough, Cat soon saw him approaching. "That's him! That's him!" "Stay behind me," Betty said getting out of her truck. She walked towards him, at first, Tex failed to take any notice of her until he saw Cat standing just behind her off to one side. "Well, well...look at what the 'cat' dragged in!" enjoying his own joke. "She as good at eating pussy as she is sucking cock?" he said grinning. "Don't know whether she is, or she isn't. That'll be her decision," Betty said staring him down. "Right now, all she'd like is her stuff back." "Don't have it, threw it out," he said reaching up towards the door of his truck. Betty stepped in the way keeping him from doing so. D is for Dyke "Oh yeah? Well if you did, then you can take us back and show us where you tossed it," she told him. Tex laughed, "I suppose you think you're tough enough to make me?" he actually threatened. "I really don't think you want to find out," Betty assured him. "Just give the girl back her stuff, and we'll be on our way." "You want it?" he questioned once again. "Ok fine, I'll be glad to give it to you!" he stated. And as he did, he reared back, what was obviously coming as a roundhouse right. He swung, and as he did, Betty ducked under the punch bringing her left hand in sharp, and full into his groin. He began to fold over almost immediately, and as he did, she met his chin coming down with her right shoulder, slamming into him hard, then stepping almost nonchalantly out of the way as he hit the pavement, out cold. "Holy shit!" Cat exclaimed wondrously. "Let's get my stuff and get the fuck out of here!" "What?" You just want to leave? Wouldn't you like a little retribution for this pile of shit?" Betty asked her. Cat looked towards Betty with even more appreciation. "What do you have in mind?" she asked. "First, grab your stuff out of the truck, then get his feet," Betty told her. By the time Cat had retrieved her satchel containing all her earthly possessions, Betty had secured his hands behind his back with duct-tape as well as stripping off two rather large pieces, placing those over his mouth. "Grab his feet," she said again. Together, they carried Tex over to the back of Betty's pickup where they unceremoniously through him in. Betty then secured his feet together as well. "What if he wakes up?" Cat questioned. "You keep an eye on him, if he even looks like he's about to wake up, you let me know," she told her. Betty looked down, saw Tex's hat lying on the asphalt. She smiled. "What's so funny?" Cat asked. "Oh nothing, just a thought really. Grab his hat, bring it up front with you." Cat did so, climbing into the passenger seat, she'd expected Betty to do the same, surprised when she looked back through the window to see her heading back towards the diner. "Betty?" "Be right back, keep an eye on dick-head!" Cat was a little nervous. Even if "Dick-head" woke up as Betty had called him, she was confidant enough that about all he could do was thrash around some. Trussed as he was around the ankles, knees, with his hands behind his back and mouth taped shut, he wasn't going anywhere. At the moment, he continued to simply lie there, though he did show signs of stirring. Looking back towards the diner, she noticed that a Sheriff's unit had pulled in to one of the stalls. Cat felt a momentary surge of panic, then confusion as she saw Betty approach the car, standing there momentarily talking to the officer. She wondered briefly if Cat had simply decided to turn the guy in or something. "But for what?" she wondered out loud. Seconds later Betty returned. "What was that all about?" "Oh, Steve's a friend of mine. I was on the Sheriff's department for a number of years," she said with a mischievous wink. "We go 'way' back!" "And?" "And...I told him that he might be getting a call a couple of hours from now about some guy wandering the highway. Asked if he might sort of pass it along to sit tight, let the guy make his way back here without any interference." "You're kidding! Why?" Betty laughed. "Later, you'll know why later," she said snickering. They pulled out of the parking lot, heading back the way they had come. After about twenty minutes Betty took what looked to be like a service road heading out into the middle of the desert. "Betty?" Cat asked starting to worry. And not just about where they were going, but with all the sudden bumps in the road, 'Dick-Head' was starting to come around. He'd already discovered he was bound hand and foot, lying there with a wild-eyed expression having no clue as to where he was, or honestly what the hell had happened to him. "Almost there," Betty said grinning. Moments later she pulled off the dirt road. "Bring his hat," she stated. Wild-eyed Tex lay staring at them as Betty lowered the tailgate. "I gave you your chance to avoid all this," she said simply. Only then did Cat realize Betty was holding a rather wicked looking hunting knife in her hand. "Betty?" Cat did whisper, but Betty ignored her. As for Tex, his eyes got even wider as well as wilder as he began thrashing crazily about in the back of the truck in some effort to get away, though it was of course totally hopeless. "Oh for shit's sake, stop that!" Betty told him. "I'm not going to kill you if that's what you're worried about. But if you keep doing that, I will rap you on the head with the butt of this knife and knock your ass out again!" Betty warned him. Tex quit struggling. "Now what?" Cat asked still holding onto the man's hat. "Grab his feet again," Betty instructed. "And as for you, you even make any move to do anything, I will cut your nuts off. It won't kill you, but it will certainly curtail any more blowjobs from ever being enjoyed again," she informed him. Tex held about as still as he possibly could as the two women lifted him out of the truck, placing him on the ground next to it. "Hand me that canteen behind the seat," Betty told Cat. When Cat returned, she had to stifle a laugh. Tex was wild-eyed once again, laying there as still as possible as Betty cut the man's pants away from him, along with his shirt. Betty whistled the entire time as though plucking a chicken for dinner. At last, he lay there naked with nothing but his boots on. "You sucked on that?" Betty asked staring down at the man's 'turtled' prick. "Hardly worth the effort I'd say," she added snickering. "Believe me, it wasn't," Cat assured her. "Help me sit him up." Cat did. "Now...go ahead and put his hat back on his head." Cat did, and then laughed. It really was funny. Tex sat there in his birthday suit with nothing on but a pair of boots and his oversized Stetson that now looked even more ridiculous than before. Betty walked around behind his back, lowered the knife briefly causing Tex to wince and cry out a muffled response beneath the tape. "Wimp!" Betty scolded. "I cut through the tape on your hands just enough that you should be able to work yourself free...after a while. I'm leaving you a canteen full of water, not exactly the heartless bitch you might think me to be. Though I'm sure 'Dyke' is probably more to your liking. The truck stop is about twenty miles that way," she pointed over her back into the hot sun. The highway's about two miles from here, with luck, you should make it well before sundown. And don't worry about the cops, I happen to know that they're all busy with other things right now rather than worrying about some naked guy walking down the highway. So if you do manage to catch a ride, more power to you, but I seriously doubt any of your trucker friends will stop for you either. I also know that it's now been broadcast to keep an eye out for a naked guy wearing cowboy boots and a Stetson hat. And that if they know what's good for them, they're to pass you on by." Tex sat there with a very defeated expression on his face. "Oh, and one more thing. I'd suggest you get yourself another route, that...or repaint your truck. Because if I ever see you, or catch you around here again, you'll be taking this very same walk. Got it?" Tex shook his head in acknowledgement. Seconds later Betty and Cat were heading back out onto the highway. "You sure he'll be alright?" Cat asked. Tex might have this coming to him, but she didn't want to be responsible in case anything happened to him either. "Not to worry, Jerry? That cop you saw? I told him exactly where we were going, what we were doing. Said he'd park his unit up on that bluff over there. You can see the entire valley from that vantage point, so he'll be keeping an eye out on Tex for us and see to it no harm actually comes to him. Don't mind saying I'd love to see it when he finally does arrive back at the diner however, wearing nothing but those boots and hat. Apt to have one hell of a sunburn too, not to mention some damn sore blisters on his feet from walking that far. "Thank you Betty," Cat told her. "Seriously, thank you for everything." "No problem. Now, you hungry?" "Famished!" "My place isn't far from here," Betty informed her. "Have a small little ranch, a few cows, some horses. You're more than welcome to stay with me as long as you like. I'll even put you to work, let you earn a little money. But again, you're welcome to stay with me if you want to. Even have an old bunk-house we can fix up for you if you'd like." "Really? You'd do that for me? Let me stay with you?" "Long as you want," Betty assured her. Cat sat quietly thinking. She really did have nowhere else to go. Perhaps this would be her chance at a fresh start, a new life. "Cat?" "Yeah?" "Yes...I am a lesbian if that's what you're wondering," she informed her. "But I don't want you thinking I'm expecting any favors. Ok? I'm sure you've never even been with another woman before, so don't worry about it. No expectations, and certainly no demands." Cat grinned. "Never said I haven't been," she admitted. "Been a while is all. But I'll admit, I am sitting here thinking about it," she informed her. Betty began to whistle. "Well, first things first. We get you fed, then a nice hot bath. Then lets see what we can do about that hair." Cat smiled, settling back comfortably in her seat. "Oh, just one more thing," she stated. Cat looked at her expectantly. "Don't ever call me a Dyke," she said. "Pisses me off when people call me a Dyke." "I'll remember that," Cat laughed. "I'll certainly remember that!"