6 comments/ 39876 views/ 7 favorites Hawaiian Punched Ch. 01 By: Combat323 It was a beautiful Hawaiian morning, but my disposition was anything but sunny as I climbed the three concrete stairs and stepped onto the red brick lanai of the home next door to mine, two blocks from the beach on the windward side of Oahu. I was there to set my friend Valerie straight; to make her understand what I expected from my friends and where she stood with me. I was primed for confrontation. I'd spent the wee hours of the morning in a video teleconference with several managers from a chain of pottery and home decor stores I owned on the East Coast. We were in the process of implementing an automated inventory control system, and these particular managers had apparently decided that they could half-ass the current system until the new one was up and running. By the end of the teleconference, one of the managers was wiping tears from his eyes, and I was convinced that all of them understood that I wouldn't let their incompetence and laziness destroy the business I'd built. After that, fixing little Valerie's behavior was going to be easy money. I rang the doorbell and her sing-song Disney princess voice met me at the door like an excited puppy. "Who is it?" "It's Lisa." And her successful businesswoman voice, thank you very much. "Oh! Come in. It's not locked. I'll get us some coffee." I dropped my flip-flops on the porch, stepped through the door, and started through the foyer. Dust bunnies hopped and rolled over the parquet flooring along the baseboards as the door swept a puff of air in behind me. Valerie had often declared herself allergic to housework, and it showed in the details. Still, the place wasn't a dump, and I loved stepping from the solid foyer floor to the padded Berber carpet in the living room. My feet were just saying "ahhh" when Valerie arrived from the kitchen with two steaming cups of coffee and a big smile. I decided that I might have to take my confrontational style down a notch. She was a nice girl; just needed a little instruction. I thanked her for the coffee. "Gosh," she said. "We haven't done this in weeks. I'm so glad you came over. Please, take a seat." She set her coffee on an end table and used the remote control to mute the morning news on her flat screen as she settled onto her brown leather couch. I sat at a right angle to her on a matching recliner and enjoyed a few sips of coffee, then set my mug on the end table between us. "So," she said, "are you here just to visit or did you want to do something today?" "Actually, I came to talk to you about last night and what I asked you to stop doing a few weeks ago. Do you remember that?" I was leaning in, looking her in the eye and waiting for her to break eye contact. She pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, but kept her eyes locked on mine. "If you're talking about dressing more conservatively when I go to your house, then yes, I remember. I've been doing that." "Yes, you have," I said. "You've been honoring the letter of my request, but not the spirit. Almost every day when Erik gets home, you are out front in your bikini watering plants or sweeping the driveway or rolling out the trash bins. Then, last night, you hop in the hot tub, and your little white swimsuit becomes practically transparent. I feel like you're trying to steal my husband's attention, and I want you to stop." My voice was sharper now, and I was wearing the you're-close-to-being-fired expression that had withered my errant managers earlier that morning. Valerie seemed unimpressed. "Whoa," she said. "I wear bathing suits all the time. This is Hawaii. It's summer. What do you expect? Also, I get home from seeing personal training clients about half an hour before Erik gets home, so it's not unusual for me to be doing outside chores when he pulls in the driveway. If I put it off for ten minutes, I'd never get around to it." That wasn't quite the tearful apology I was expecting. I raised my voice a bit. "What about last night? Thanks again for having us over for drinks, but my husband didn't need a T&A show." Valerie's face showed something between determination and anger, but her voice was all exasperation. "Holy shit, Lisa. It's not like I invited him into the bedroom, and it's not like you never flirted with Bill when Erik was deployed. I honestly forgot what that suit looked like when it got wet. I'll admit that I enjoyed the male attention, just like you did on our girls' nights out when Erik was the one flying helicopters around the desert. I practically had to peel a couple of those guys off of your drunk ass. Do you remember that?" I broke eye contact first. I was trying to forget those nights. "Yes. I remember and appreciate everything you and Bill did for me while Erik was deployed, and I want us to be there for you in the same way now. I just don't want my husband seeing the details of what your swimsuit is meant to hide. And what was that little wink you gave him as we left?" Valerie rolled her eyes, and my temper heated a few degrees. "I winked at you, not him," she said. "I thought you two were going to wear out some furniture when you got home. That was a 'you go, girl' wink." I pointed at her for emphasis and said "Well, you thought wrong. The only thing that got worn out last night was Erik's ego. I wasn't going to reward him for ogling another woman. He didn't get to touch me for a month after I caught him drooling over pictures of women in his Esquire magazine. His dry spell would've been longer if I hadn't felt sort of obligated to relent on the eve of his deployment." Valerie shook her head like a disappointed parent. "Jesus, Lisa. I'll bet Erik has a huge hidden porn stash and masturbation callouses on his cock. You should be getting under that Marine's hard body every chance you get, not denying him and driving him toward other women. If you keep it up, someone will give him more than a peek of tits and ass." I was on my feet. I glowered down at Valerie and shouted. "You don't know him. Erik and I saved ourselves for marriage. He's not going to be tempted by an easy piece of ass like you. He's..." Her slap torqued my head to the right. The left side of my face burned from temple to chin. I backed away, eyes watering, as Valerie said something that ended with "fucking bitch." I was shocked. Then I was angry. How dare she? As my vision cleared, she was right in front of me, shaking a finger and lecturing me on some point that was lost in my desire to make her pay for that slap. Emotion had obviously clouded her judgment. Valerie couldn't be more than five-foot-four and 110 pounds. I had a good four inches and twenty pounds on her. It wasn't even going to be a fair fight. The brunette was about to kick the blonde's ass. I grabbed her in a headlock, except her head was no longer there, and I was suddenly off my feet and upside-down. I landed on my back, hard. The air gushed from my lungs, and my calves bounced on the couch cushions. Shit! The lucky little whore had ducked, and my momentum had somehow caused me to flip over her. She wouldn't be so lucky again. I rolled to my feet and stood facing her. She was actually smiling. Energized by anger, I grabbed a handful of the loose t-shirt she wore over her usual skimpy two-piece. Valerie's hand slapped over mine. She stepped back and pivoted, and my arm was straightened, turned, and under her control. My hand was trapped against her chest in a thumb-down position and she was flexing my fingers toward the ceiling. The pain was like an electric shock from my wrist to my shoulder. Her other hand kept my elbow locked, and the pressure forced me to my knees. I balanced on my free hand and watched a tear drop from the corner of my eye and splash on the carpet. I had never been so completely under someone else's control. Valerie tsk-tsked. "I didn't realize you had such anger issues, Lisa. Perhaps you'd settle down if I kicked your tits back through your shoulder blades." She flexed my wrist further, and I was forced onto my elbow to ease the pain. "Please," I begged. "Let me go. I'm sorry. I was totally wrong." I was blubbering; crying like a child. "I think I'm going to need more than an apology, Lisa." She added pressure to my arm. "Now get on your belly. We're going to work off some of that angry energy." Somewhere in the midst of my pain she had changed to controlling me solely from my wrist, using both hands to bend it in ways nature never intended. Ever smaller movements were required to create pain. I felt totally defeated. "Please, Valerie," I said. "I'll do anything. Just let me have my arm back." I sunk to my belly. "Hush, hush, my easy little piece of ass. I already know that you'll do anything." Valerie paused for a second, leveraging my arm against her knee. "The first thing you're going to do is fifty repetitions of up-downs. You are in the starting position now. Standing straight up and then back down to your face is one rep. Now, go!" I pushed up onto my knees, then stood up, and Valerie kept the tension locked in my arm the whole way. Once I was standing straight, she added pressure, and the pain forced me down again. "C'mon, Lisa. You can move faster than that," Valerie said, "just forty-nine to go." She was in her element, coaching me like one of her clients at the gym. I was determined to show her that I could accomplish her silly task. I would not be broken. But by the tenth rep, my free arm was shaking as I struggled to my knees, and by fifteen my legs burned and sweat dripped from my face. Valerie kept pushing the pace. Twice, she literally kicked me in the ass as she encouraged me to move faster. I began to feel nauseous. I pleaded for mercy. "Please." I sunk to my knees. "No more." I fell forward, just saving my face from planting in the carpet. "I can't." "Thirty-six," Valerie said. "Fourteen to go. Get your ass in gear, Lisa." My free arm was useless, so I crawled my knees up to my chest and brought my torso upright. My lower back was barely up to the task, and my hip flexors were too exhausted to draw either of my feet forward to a lunge position. I was too weak to stand. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks. I'd failed to reach a goal, arbitrary or not, and I was under another person's thumb. I had no control, and I had passed from anger to despair. Valerie released my wrist and I brought my arm against my abdomen as if it was in a sling. My shoulder burned at the change in position and my wrist throbbed. I cradled my aching arm in my good arm and was about to thank my conqueror for releasing me when she planted her foot in my back and shoved me forward. I landed flat on my face and lay there, unable to pull my arms out from under me. Strange, I thought, that the carpet still smelled so new. I hoped Valerie was done. I'd felt defeated earlier, but now I was completely vanquished. I couldn't even crawl two feet forward to use the couch as a crutch. Then I felt her fingers pinch through the back of my floral silk blouse, and the clasp of my bra popped open. Valerie wasn't done. She pulled at my shoulder and hip until I was on my side. She unsnapped my khaki shorts and drew the zipper down. That done, she began unbuttoning my blouse. "Val, what are you doing? You've won. You can dictate whatever terms you want between us." I could hear the alarm in my broken voice and feel a fresh batch of tears gathering in my eyes. I had thought that I could just be quiet and endure the rest of the physical torture with dignity, but the possibility of sexual torture or humiliation was too much to bear. Valerie finished unbuttoning my blouse and pulled my arm free of both it and my bra strap. "I'm making sure you've learned your lesson, you arrogant prude," she said. She pushed me back onto my stomach and tugged the garments off my other shoulder. I rolled slightly away to give her room and prevent damage to my clothing or my body. My bra slipped from under my breasts, and both bra and blouse slipped over my fingers and out of reach. I was topless, and persistent fingers gathered the waistband of my shorts and panties together at my sides. One solid pull exposed half of my buttocks, and one more left my shorts and panties bunched just above my knees. Valerie turned and sat on my back facing my feet; her hands kneaded my ass. "Okay, Lisa," she said. "Here are the terms I'm dictating: Whenever your husband is not actively tagging this ass, it belongs to me. Got it?" I had no idea what that entailed, but I was in no position to argue. "Okay," I said. There was a loud "crack" like a supersonic bullet passing overhead, and the left side of my ass bloomed in pain. I was howling a long "Noooo..." when another "crack" accompanied the ignition and burning of the right side of my ass. "Okay?" Valerie sounded exasperated again, like she was dealing with a petulant child. "I believe the right answer is 'Yes, ma'am.' Isn't that what you'd expect from your employees?" "Yes, ma'am." "So, who owns this ass, Lisa?" She was tapping a finger an inch from my anus. The situation was getting worse by the second. I figured a full-sentence capitulation was my safest bet. "You own that ass, ma'am. My ass belongs to you." Valerie patted my buttocks and stood up. I kept my forehead to the floor and tried to imagine an escape. I was worn out, humiliated, and nude except for the shorts and panties gathered around my knees. I wasn't sure where my blouse and bra were located, and I didn't even know if I could get to my feet, much less out the door. It seemed that my best option was 100 percent cooperation, at least until an opportunity to escape presented itself. My thoughts were interrupted by an order. "Roll over, whore." I rolled onto my back and found Valerie standing at my feet, snapping photos with her Nikon point-and-shoot. I fought back a strong urge to cover myself. She already had two or three pictures, and I didn't want to risk any more pain. Besides, I had just responded immediately to the epithet "whore," so it would have made no sense to suddenly act like the demure woman I'd been just minutes ago. She kicked my foot. "Smile, Lisa. This is your glamour shot." I mustered my most convincing smile, though I'd never felt so low. Even my husband had never seen me so exposed in this much light. "That's better," Valerie said, "Now keep the smile and push your tits together for me." I didn't like that she called them "tits" instead of "breasts," but I complied and pushed them together as she took more photos. I felt like such a slut that I didn't hesitate when Valerie ordered me to play with my nipples. I was surprised to find them already stiff and aching for attention. When had that happened? As soon as I touched them, I felt a wet heat between my legs. I gasped, and a slow exhalation shuddered through my lips. "That's awesome, Lisa! Your inner porn star really shined through on that one." "Thank you, ma'am." In the absence of further orders, I continued to stimulate my nipples. Valerie knelt and stripped my shorts and panties the rest of the way down and off my legs. "Put the soles of your feet together," she said, "and let your knees fall apart." I obeyed, and the kiss of cool air on my damp labia signaled that I was completely exposed. I gasped again as Valerie slid two fingers into my overheated sex and dragged them up over my clitoris. "My, my," she said, "that is one wet and needy pussy. You need to feed it more often." She drew a damp line up the center of my body and over my chin. Her fingers pulled at my bottom lip, and the scent of my own aroused sex filled my nostrils. "Open up, little girl," Valerie said. You need to clean this mess off of my fingers." I parted my lips and allowed her fingers inside my mouth. She straddled my torso and took more photos as I sucked and licked her feminine fingers from fingertip to palm. "That's it," she said. "Suck those fingers like they're your hubby's cock." I hesitated for only a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Valerie to guess what had crossed my mind. "Oh my god! Poor Erik never gets a blow job, does he?" I shook my head and said "No, ma'am" as well as I could with two fingers on my tongue. Valerie ordered me to suck hard and pulled her fingers out of my mouth with a wet slurp and pop. She grabbed my wrists, removed my hands from my breasts, and pinned them above my shoulders in a surrender pose. Her blonde hair fell around my face like a shimmering curtain. "Lisa, how many times have you had a cock in your mouth?" "Just once, ma'am; for a few seconds. I was really drunk." "What, Erik didn't like it?" "He loved it, but I felt so low and dirty like that." It had felt daring at first, I remembered, but when his eyes met mine, I thought of who I was. I was not the girl who blew the football team. I was not the kind of person who could ever be found on her knees with a penis in her mouth. I was a respectable wife and a tough businesswoman. The blowjob incident only lasted about ten seconds, but Erik had to remind me how hot it was over and over again for weeks. I finally told him that I never wanted to hear about it again. Valerie released my wrists and sat upright. The damp crotch of her swimsuit pressed against my upper abdomen. She had me irretrievably at her mercy, and it was turning her on. I wanted to be horrified, but all I could do was moan as her fingers traced light spirals on my breasts and the sauna between my legs steamed hotter. "You are a low and dirty slut, aren't you?" My sexual arousal confirmed that it was true. "Yes, ma'am." "Let me hear you say it." "I'm a low and dirty slut, ma'am." "Who's dirty slut are you, Lisa?" "I'm your dirty slut, ma'am." Valerie tugged at my nipples. "You really have no concept of low and dirty, but you'll learn. A blowjob is not dirty. A few seconds of cock sucking isn't even an intimate kiss." She stood and removed her t-shirt, revealing a dark blue string bikini. The lighting and my perspective brought out the separation in her abs. She looked like a heavy-breasted pole vaulter. She looked like someone who could own your ass in a fight. She smiled down at me as she pulled the ties on each side of her swimsuit bottom. "You'll eat my pussy for much longer than a few seconds, slave." The bikini bottom dropped onto my stomach. Valerie scooped her camera off the floor and knelt over my face. "I expect enthusiasm, Lisa. I had better feel like you just can't get enough of my sweet pussy. Do you understand?" I said "Yes, ma'am," and her pussy, hairless except for a close-cropped blonde landing strip, descended toward my face. Her swollen labia separated slightly as they approached my lips, and her clitoris stretched against its hood. The aroma was intoxicating. I reached for her with my tongue and heard her camera whir. As soon as we made contact, Valerie adjusted position and I licked and sucked with unfeigned enthusiasm at whatever she offered. My tongue explored the entrance to her vagina, and she pressed harder against me. Her hips began to rock, and soon she was providing all the motion, running the entire length of her pussy over my lips, tongue, and nose. After a few minutes, she leaned on the couch in front of her and began to grind in smaller strokes. Exhalations broke out of her throat in breathy "Oh's" and her hips gyrated out of rhythm as her orgasm approached. I grabbed her ass and licked in steady, rapid strokes over her clit until she collapsed in a moaning, spasming mass and pushed a hand between my face and her over-sensitive pussy. It felt as though some vital energy flowed from her body to mine. I'd never felt so connected to another person's pleasure, and I finally understood my husband's old argument that oral sex was more, not less, intimate than intercourse. I wondered Hawaiian Punched Ch. 01 if he'd felt the same connection to my orgasm, and I regretted all the times I'd not allowed him to go down on me. Valerie regained enough control to lift herself off of my face, and she promptly dropped her dripping pussy onto my forehead and slid down over my face, neck, and chest until she was straddling my waist. She reached back with one hand, and I felt her fingers glide over my pubic bone and slide too easily into the wet folds of my pussy. I moaned in embarrassment, arousal, and surrender. My body was saying things about me that I didn't want to hear and that I couldn't understand. Valerie had kicked my ass, made me her bitch, and used me like a sex toy. My pussy told her that I loved it and wanted more. She kicked her leg over to kneel beside me. Her thumb kept pressure on my clit while two fingers flutter-kicked just millimeters inside me. "My-oh-my," she said. "What a naughty wet pussy you have, Lisa. You're either a closet lesbian or a closet submissive, or both." She pushed two, then three fingers inside me and began rubbing my clit with her thumb. "You've now eaten pussy more than you've sucked cock, so the lesbian part makes some sense, but my guess is that you just love being dominated. You're such an alpha bitch that the role reversal turns you on like a switch. You love being my slave, don't you?" "Yes, ma'am." Her description fit, and my admission pushed me further toward the edge. She anchored the shaft of my clit with her thumb and removed her fingers from my pussy to massage the exposed button in quick, feather-light strokes. My body spasmed in something close to orgasm, but more sustainable and continuous. The only coherent thoughts in my mind were "Valerie owns my ass," and "I'm a filthy sex slave." Orgasm hit me like an underwater earthquake, releasing waves of pleasure in every direction. I could feel them bursting out through my fingers, toes, and the top of my head. My pussy felt as if it was trying to draw something in and push something out at the same time. My back arched, and I could hear my disembodied voice saying "Oh God...Oh God...Oh God...." Then every spasming muscle relaxed as the final wave broke and deposited my body back on the carpet. When I opened my eyes, Valerie was standing over me. Her t-shirt was back on, and my comfortable cotton briefs dangled between two fingers at the end of her out-stretched arm. "I will never catch you in anything this unsexy again, slave," she said. "Now it's time to get moving. You've got a lot of work to do to earn your clothes back." She crumpled my panties in her hand, picked the rest of my clothes up from the floor behind her, and marched toward the kitchen. I rolled over and got to my hands and knees in time to hear her yell "Don't make me come back in there and kick your ass again, Lisa. Meet me in the laundry room in 30 seconds, and bring my bathing suit bottom." I grabbed her swimsuit and stood. I felt a little head rush, and it took a moment for my arms and legs to decide that they still worked. As I stepped from the point of my enslavement, I heard Valerie yell again. "Fifteen seconds, whore. Let's go. You've got to get this place cleaned up for your husband's best evening ever." Hawaiian Punched Ch. 02 It felt strange to walk through a neighbor's house in the nude, but Valerie hadn't given me much time to dwell on it. I hustled across the kitchen to the laundry room like a passenger trying to make a connecting flight. Valerie leaned on the laundry room door frame and tracked my progress against her watch. She wore a fresh bathing suit in a lighter shade of blue than the bikini bottom in my hand -- the one she'd dropped on top of me before she rode my face to orgasm. "Good job, Lisa," she said as I arrived at my appointed place of duty. "I like my house slaves prompt, and you're off to a good start." She pointed to a gray metal shelf in the laundry room. "Most of the cleaning supplies are on the shelf, but there are toilet brushes and cleaner in the bathrooms, and some other stuff under the kitchen sink. I want this place cleaned from top to bottom. You can wear the vinyl cleaning gloves that are on the shelf, and nothing else." She turned, opened the door to the linen closet across the hall, and pulled out a beach towel. "You'll find fresh linens for the master bed in here. Don't worry about the guest bed." She looked at her watch. "I have to leave in three hours to meet a client at the gym, so that's how long you have. Any questions?" "No, ma'am." "Good, I'll be out by the pool with some reading material and your clothes. Your first order of business is to bring me a fresh cup of coffee. Feel free to reheat and enjoy the coffee you left in the living room. I don't want you falling asleep on the job." "Thank you, ma'am." I kept my eyes on the floor between us and watched as she pivoted, walked to the living room, and turned right toward the door that led out to the back yard pool and hot tub. Her calves shortened and lengthened with each step in a way that was only noticeable because of their hard-earned solidity and Valerie's low body fat. Her upper legs were muscular, but feminine, and her ass was a gravity-defying bubble high on her hamstrings. I could almost see how the muscles in her back tied together, and the contours in her triceps were more evident than I'd ever seen in a woman. How had I not noticed any of this in the past year? If I had, I probably wouldn't have been so certain that I could kick her ass, an attitude that had led to my new status as her naked maid and servant. I considered borrowing some of her loose-fitting clothing and making a run for my house, but it seemed the coward's way out, and I needed to satisfy her of my sincere regret so she would erase the photos she'd taken of me in the living room. I would just die if her husband, or mine, ever saw them, and it would be a disaster if her camera fell into the wrong hands. I walked the ten feet from the laundry room to the kitchen, poured coffee into a fresh mug from the cupboard, and started a new pot. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink and clean ones in the dishwasher waiting to be put away. I peeked into the refrigerator and the oven and was relieved to find them relatively clean. There weren't any huge, time-consuming messes, and the place was relatively uncluttered. I plucked Valerie's coffee off the counter and walked heel-to-toe in the careful way of a nude woman carrying a steaming hot cup of coffee. Waitressing in high school and college had taught me that the trick to carrying hot drinks was to pay peripheral attention to the mug. Focus on it too much, or not at all, and it was sure to spill on your hand. At the back door, I stalled for a moment and checked for neighborhood windows that might offer a view of the pool area. I could see the top third of two windows on the house behind Bill and Val's, but the privacy fence would conceal me once I stepped off the landing. A myna bird squawked in front of the house, and the sudden realization that anyone who came to the front door would have an unobstructed view of my naked backside caused me to lose concentration and splash hot coffee onto my foot. I growled under my breath and decided that the pool area was definitely the lesser of two evils. Not that I really had a choice. I stepped out the back door and made a mental note to close the inside front door and some window blinds before I started cleaning. Valerie was half reclined on an almond-colored chaise lounge that was turned to face the morning sun. The Redbook magazine in her hand shaded her eyes, while her topless torso soaked up some vitamin D. Her firm breasts were as immune to gravity as her ass. She and I each had more than a handful, but her small frame provided an attention-getting contrast to her bust. She had no tan lines. "Your coffee, ma'am." I set her mug on the plastic table by her chair. "Thank you, Lisa." She sat up a little and traded the magazine for her coffee. "You know, I almost forgot to tell you: You are not to close the inside doors or any of the blinds or curtains while you clean." I tried to keep the "Oh, fuck!" look off my face. "Should I not dust the blinds, then?" "Do what you need to clean them, then get them back up." "Yes, ma'am. Do you need anything else?" "I'm fine. You had better get cracking on your housework, slut." "Yes, ma'am." I slunk back to the door, peeked to make sure there was no one at the front door, and slipped into the house. The end table that stood in the corner of the L formed by the couch and the recliner was just inside the door to my right. On it rested the two cups of coffee that had witnessed my humiliating fall from grace. I picked them up and headed to the kitchen, gulping the warm coffee from my mug as I walked. I emptied Valerie's mug in the sink and set both mugs on the counter. I had my first chuckle of the day when I noticed that Val had poured my coffee in a white mug emblazoned with "BFF" in pink and red block letters with cute little pink and red hearts sprinkled around the lettering. It was the mug she always reserved for me, and I hoped that she would tire of our new mistress/slave relationship by the end of the day so we could get back to being BFF's in the morning. I thought that the kitchens and bathrooms would be the toughest rooms to clean, so I started by spraying oven cleaner inside the oven and soap scum remover in the showers so they could soak while I worked on all the food-handling areas. In an hour I had cleaned both bathrooms, the laundry room, and the kitchen, including the floor around and behind the oven and refrigerator. The biggest obstacle was my bare chest. My breasts rubbed against the floor when I reached under the oven, against the porcelain as I scrubbed around the toilets and against every rag or container that I hung on my shoulder or tucked under my arm; and they were rivaled only by my face as magnets for falling dust. I had thought that cleaning the windows would be the task with the worst risk of exposure to passing eyes, but the window cleaning spray temporarily blurred the glass, and I could see approaching threats to my dignity as I wiped the windows clean. The ceiling fans were another story. I had to stand on something to reach them, which put my full body in view of any window in the room and added another step to any hasty retreat. It also took time and attention to clean away the dust and cobwebs that had accumulated on the fans and light fixtures. The fans in the dining room and the den were both centered in rooms with three large windows facing the street, and they were the last two things I had to clean before a final vacuuming and a walk-through to check for anything I might have missed. I decided to get the fan in the den out of the way first. It was the most nerve-wracking because the only escape from that room was directly into the foyer in full view of anyone who came to the front door. I pulled the office chair from the computer desk, stood on it, and dusted as fast as I could, but it took several minutes to get all of the dust and cobwebs off of the fan blades and motor housing. I wiped the entire thing down with a dryer sheet to keep new dust from sticking and then put away the chair and heaved a huge sigh of relief as I crossed the foyer to the dining room. There was a door from the dining room to the kitchen, so I had an escape route if anyone approached the front of the house. The real challenge in the dining room lay in reaching the fan, which was centered over the heavy dining room table. I threw a towel over the center of the table and stood with one foot on the seat of a chair and the other on the towel. The bulk of the dust stuck nicely to a damp cloth, and a few minutes of work had two-thirds of the fixture and all of the fan blades ready for an anti-static wipe with the dryer sheet, so I did that and switched to the other side of the table. Valerie came in the house then and looked through the kitchen doorway. "Almost done, Lisa?" "Yes, ma'am, just need to finish this and vacuum the floors." "Good. This place looks great, and you should be done with about forty minutes to spare. I should have made you my bitch a long time ago." She walked off toward the master bedroom. I got back to work on the ceiling fan and tried to ignore the strange pride I felt when she complimented my work. I heard her coming back down the hallway a few minutes later as I put the finishing touches on the fan. Then the doorbell rang. "Package for miss Valerie." Shit! It was Benny, our local parcel delivery guy. I froze, then slowly brought my foot off the table. Benny couldn't see me from the front door, but I would pass through his line of sight if I moved toward the kitchen. I would have to wait until Valerie had accepted the package, then move after Benny turned from the door but before he could look through the windows. Valerie turned into the dining room from the kitchen. She was dressed in black nylon running shorts, white ankle socks, and a white tank-top over a dark colored sports bra. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail. "Get the door Lisa." I felt the dismay on my face as I looked at her, but Valerie's expression remained stern. She pointed toward the door and mouthed one word: "Smile." I stepped down from the chair and leaned on the table for support. She might as well have been asking me to step out in front of the Boy Scout Jamboree. On shaking legs, I gathered my courage, took a deep breath, and recovered a measure of composure. "Miss Valerie," Benny yelled. "You have to sign for this one." I crossed the dining room and stepped into the foyer; two more steps took me to the screen door. Benny stood on the other side of the screen door with a large box at his feet. He was the prototypical Hawaiian mutt; a good-looking young man with a mixture of Polynesian, Filipino, and probably some other Asian blood with a dash of Scandinavian sailor mixed in a few generations ago. He kept his dark hair short and wore a single diamond stud in his left ear. He was dressed in his work uniform, a poly-blend shirt, matching shorts, and black steel-toed work shoes. He had the smooth, supple physique of a young man who stayed outdoors and active all day. I smiled. "Come in, Benny." For probably the first time in the twenty years since he learned his first word, Benny was speechless. Customers on Benny's route joked that he would chat up your dog or your house plants while he waited at the door. His surfing buddies claimed that he always missed the best waves because he was too busy telling stories and that you were always safe surfing with him because the sharks couldn't get far enough away from his incessant chatter. Benny's sudden bout of lockjaw was complicated by an inability to bring his eyes any higher than my neck. He was a deer caught in full-frontal headlights, and I was too out of my element to figure my next move. Valerie walked up from behind me and put her arm around my waist. "Benny, you know Lisa from next door, don't you?" His eyes finally found my face. "Oh yeah. Hi Miss Lisa. Guess I didn't recognize you at first. You change your hair or something?" Heat rose from my neck to my forehead, and Valerie laughed. "No, Silly. You've just never seen her up close and naked. Now, are you going to pick up that box, or do I have to carry it in the house myself?" Benny's easy smile was back. "No, you just get the door, and I'll bring it in for you." Valerie's hand pushed on my tailbone. "Lisa will hold the door for you. Won't you, Lisa?" I nodded and turned the door handle as Benny scooped up the box and stepped back to let the door swing open. Then I walked out onto the porch, in full view of any passerby, and held the door while Benny entered the foyer. I was back in close on his heels. He set the box just inside the den, then pulled his digital clipboard from its holster, scanned the UPC label on the box, and presented the device to Valerie for signature. Valerie signed and said "Lisa, it's rude to stand behind our guest and show your ass to the neighborhood like that. Come over here by me." I moved past Benny on his left and stood in front of the box he'd just deposited in the den. I could feel the cardboard against my calves and Benny's brown eyes taking another long walk all over me. He finally looked back at Valerie with a puzzled expression, and she laughed and explained how poor Lisa had lost a bet and had to pay it off in her birthday suit. She gestured toward me and asked "Does she look as good as you have undoubtedly imagined, Benny?" "Even better," he said, "and my imagination is quite generous." "So you like her tits, then?" "Oh, yes. They're the most amazing thing I've seen in twenty years." "I see," said Valerie. "How do you know her ass isn't even better?" Valerie made a twirling motion with her finger. "Make half a turn for us, Lisa." I was past embarrassment or even mortification. I had broken through to some weird kind of acceptance, and I felt relaxed and confident. I turned my ass toward Benny and hoped that he would enjoy the view. "Wow!" he said. "That is very, very nice, but I'm just more of a tit man." I turned back toward him and cupped my breasts in my hands. "So, you like these better?" "Definitely." "They're the best thing you've seen in twenty years?" "Yes, Miss Lisa, the best thing ever." Benny's grin couldn't have been any bigger. I returned a genuine smile. "Thank you, Benny. That's the nicest compliment I've had in a long time." "And this is the best delivery I've ever made," said Benny. "I'm sure it is," Valerie said. She looked toward my legs and the box behind them. "It's a very nice box, isn't it?" Benny's grin took a mischievous turn. "It's an awesome box. I wish I could see a box like that every day." A few months earlier, their conversation would have gone over my head, but I'd finally grown tired of the "Slip the Sexual Euphemism Past Lisa" game and studied up online. I was pissed to discover how casually Erik had inserted dirty references into our conversations and horrified to learn what others thought I meant when I said that something "Sucked the big one." Valerie said "It's probably a good thing that Lisa's husband will be here later to help with the box." Benny laughed. "I'm sure he'll take good care of it, Miss Valerie." Val moved a step toward the door and said "I'm glad we could brighten your day Benny, but hasn't this delivery eaten up a lot of your time?" Benny got the hint. "Yes," he said. "I'm definitely behind schedule, but that's mostly because I thought I should hold delivery until after the ceiling fan was clean." It was a good thing I'd moved beyond embarrassment. He stepped toward the door, and Valerie caught his arm. "Benny, I know this will be one of your best stories ever, but --" "-- Don't worry, Miss Valerie. I will change the names and addresses to protect the naked, and to protect me from Mr. Erik. That guy looks like he could eat a bowl of bullets for breakfast." Valerie laughed. "He probably could, Benny." She let go of his arm. "Mahalo for the delivery, stud, and aloha." He turned back as the screen door closed behind him. "Mahalo to you, ladies. I'll try to be a gentleman if we meet in my dreams." "Like hell you will, Benny," said Valerie. "Now get your ass out of here and make sure you keep two hands on the wheel for the rest of the day." "I'll try." Benny jogged off toward his delivery van, stopped half way to turn and shout a happy "Aloha," and then got back to work. I was alone again with the woman who owned my ass. Hawaiian Punched Ch. 03 I stood naked and dusty in Valerie's foyer, eager to finish cleaning her house but still a bit disoriented from the intimate display of flesh I'd just put on for the delivery man. "That was terrific, Lisa," said Valerie. "You really broke through some barriers. For a minute there, I thought you were going to wrap your tits around Benny's cock. We'll make a good little slut out of you yet, won't we?" "Yes, ma'am." I hesitated. "Do you want me to finish the cleaning now?" "Of course, go do the vacuuming. When you're done, you can shower in the guest bathroom and put your clothes on. I already hung them on the towel rack for you." "Thank you, ma'am." There was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. I fetched the vacuum cleaner from the laundry room and brought it through the foyer to the den. I worked from the front of the house to the back without a single worried glance at the windows. The odds of being seen in my naked servitude had not changed, but the consequences seemed less important. It felt almost natural to vacuum my neighbor's floors in the nude. I was done in fifteen minutes, and the only thing left to clean was my body. I turned the shower in the guest bath to hot and looked at my reflection in the vanity mirror. The fluorescent light revealed dust clinging to my dark hair from my eyelashes to the end of my pony tail. My skin felt grimy-sticky, and when I glanced toward my feet I could see more dust trapped in my pubic hair. I turned to the shower, adjusted the water temperature down, and stepped inside. A little black stream ran from my feet to the drain, but it was soon washed away in a hot river of shampoo and soap suds. I got out of the shower feeling like a new woman, and I'd never been so happy to get dressed. My Valerie-disapproved panties were conspicuously absent from my clothes on the towel rack. As I exited the bathroom, Valerie called to me from the front of the house. I found her in the den, pulling a document off the printer. She waved me to the love seat at the corner of the desk and tapped the page edges even on top of the printer. "I printed this for you," she said. "I thought you might want a hard copy for backup." "Thank you." I hoped it was it was some kind of software report guaranteeing that her camera's flash memory card had been wiped clean and could never be recovered. Valerie retracted the arm that had been extending the document to me. "Thank you...?" "Thank you, ma'am." "That's better. Don't start thinking this is over, Lisa. This is just the first day of a long-term progressive program." Just then, Valerie's computer screen went to the screen saver, and a full-screen slide show began with a picture of me lying on my back and smiling while my hands pressed my breasts together for the camera. Two similar pictures followed, and then one of me, eyes closed and mouth agape, with my nipples pinched in my fingers. A few slides later I was lying with my feet together and my upper legs splayed out to display my crotch. Another photo zoomed in on my pussy, and it was followed by a similar picture but with the index and middle fingers of a feminine hand buried in my sex. Two pictures after that, those same fingers were in my mouth. Then there were a number of close-ups of my face as I lapped at Valerie's pussy. The last slide showed me from behind. I was looking out the screen door at Benny, and he was looking in at my breasts. I couldn't speak or avert my eyes from the lewd images on the screen. Just a few hours earlier, those images had not existed, and no one could have convinced me that they ever would exist. I was caught in some surreal erotic nightmare. This just could not be happening. I had to wake up. Valerie sat next to me on the love seat and put a hand on my knee. "Not sure what to do now, Lisa?" My voice had almost no strength. "No, ma'am." "You're worried about those pictures?" "Yes, ma'am. Anyone who looks at your computer will see them." Valerie shook her head. "You don't need to worry about that. They're only on my screen saver now for your benefit, and they'll be in a hidden, password-protected folder whenever I'm not using them. They will never be shared unintentionally." She handed me the document she had printed. "As of now, I have no intention of sharing them with anyone on this list." I looked at the document. It was my email contacts list, and it included my family and all of my clients, employees, and friends. I had checked my email from Valerie's computer on several occasions, and I must have failed to log off at least once. It seemed I was pretty good at handing her the clubs she needed to deliver my beatings. My father's email address was there. He'd never forgive me and there would be no explaining if he saw those images. I was the only one of his children who was still morally upright in his eyes. I was the good girl who got straight A's, who never partied or went on dates, who set a proper example for her little sister. I'd grown up not knowing Dad's brothers and sisters or my cousins because he had cut them all out of his life for various perceived slights. He'd banished my asshole older brother, not for the many reasons he deserved it, but because of some dispute over a dog. My sister beat Dad to the punch. She rejected my example and all of his rules; told him to stay out of her life. They'd only re-established minimal communication after my mother died, and my sister always made him be the one to reach out first. I was the only ear my friendless father had to bend, so I heard all of his complaints about neighbors, relatives, his health, and every public figure on Earth. I wasn't ready to be cut off from my father, and I couldn't stand the thought of anyone else seeing those photos. They'd be a weapon in my brother's hands and would ruin the image I'd tried to maintain in my sister's eyes. If my employees saw those pictures, I'd never be able to look them in the eye again. I could hardly imagine anything Valerie could ask of me that was worse than any person on the list seeing even one of those images. "You see," said Valerie. "You don't have to worry about what to do. You just do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it. Is that clear enough?" "Yes, ma'am." I felt weak. My head bowed. "Did I ever tell you what I did for stress relief in college?" "No, ma'am." I wondered how it could be relevant. "I ordered my roommate to eat my pussy, and in return I allowed her to touch herself. It was a perfect arrangement, and we roomed together all four years." Valerie patted my knee. "She was a lot like you; repressed at first, but hot and wet once someone showed her who was boss." Valerie rose from the love seat and stood by the desk. "I only tell you this so you'll understand that our new relationship is no passing phase for me. I know how to be in control and I enjoy it. This will be good for you as well; we both know how wet your pussy gets when you are controlled and forced past your useless inhibitions. I'm going to take you to places you've never even imagined." She tapped her fingers on the desk to the left of the computer. "Come over here, Lisa, and rest your forearms on the desk. You can leave your shorts on the love seat." This order was different. It didn't come from an angry friend; it came from a woman who wanted control and was used to getting it. If I obeyed, I was committing myself to her "long-term progressive program." If I refused, there would be consequences. I stood and unsnapped my shorts. Valerie tapped on the desk again. "Hurry up, whore. We haven't got all day." "Yes, ma'am." I unzipped and removed my shorts and set them on the love seat as directed. Then I moved to the desk and bent over to place my forearms where she had tapped her fingers. I ignored the view through the window in front of me and kept my eyes focused on the desk. Valerie moved in close behind me and gripped my hips as if she was ready to thrust a swollen penis into my pussy. She tapped the inside of my ankles with her feet and said "First things first, dear: Whenever I tell you to get into a position that requires bending at the waist, you can assume that I want your feet at least shoulder width apart." I moved my feet as far apart as I could without discomfort. Valerie stroked my ass and lower back with her fingertips. "I've got some instructions for you, slut. So listen up." "Yes, ma'am." "You and Erik are having dinner here, with me, tonight. You are responsible for preparing the meal. The menu is up to you. Understood?" "Yes, ma'am." "We'll be spending time by the pool and in the hot tub, so you will need a new bathing suit. It must be a two piece with a thong or G-string bottom. The top will leave at least two finger-widths of skin exposed on the bottoms and sides of your breasts. I will allow you to wear something over it until you get here and I tell you otherwise. Got it?" "Yes, ma'am." "Dinner is at six. Make sure you have beer for Erik I will give you more instructions over the course of the evening." Valerie snaked a hand along my spine and unclasped my bra. I felt the cups sag away from my breasts. She moved up beside me and dropped her voice to a whisper. "We really need to get a man behind you now, don't we? You're all bent over and ready." She knelt and released the two blouse buttons closest to my breasts. A hand slipped under my bra and teased at one nipple, and then the other. "It's too bad I don't have time to pluck a random stranger off the street, and Benny was just a bit too early. Maybe he'll have better luck next time. He can hold those tits he loves so much while he gives your slutty pussy the cock it needs. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" "No! No ma'am." I didn't want that, but my body defeated my will, and my center of awareness moved to my dampening pussy. I could not control my response to the images Valerie was feeding my mind and to the compromising position she had me in. I hoped that she wouldn't notice. "I wish Bill was here to see you like this," whispered Valerie. "He'd love to get his big cock in you and show you why 'Tiny' is such an ironic call sign; but we'll have to wait a couple months for that, won't we?" She pulled my lower lip down a quarter inch with the pad of her index finger and moved it in gentle circles that dragged her fingertip along the bottom of my upper lip. "He'll be happy to help you with your cock-sucking skills too, but we should have that pretty squared away by then." Heat and humidity were rising in my pussy. I could almost feel Bill's cockhead pushing its way in. My mind could see it there -- huge, pulsing, and slick with leaking precum. Valerie kissed her way up the side of my neck, then put her lips to my ear and whispered, "Is your pussy all hot and bothered, dear?" "Yes, ma'am." It was on the verge of dripping, and she hadn't come near touching me there. I felt like a needy whore, not even in it for the money. "I knew it would be, because I understand sluts like you, Lisa." She moved behind me again and massaged the entrance to my vagina with her thumb. My knees straightened and my back arched as my hips pressed back, but Valerie didn't allow the penetration my pussy needed. I groaned and dropped my forehead to the desk. "Your thoughts of my husband's cock have made things quite slippery back here, Lisa. I'm not completely pleased about that," said Valerie. She thrust her thumb into me, and then squished it in and out as I whimpered into the desk. Her slick fingertips found my clit, and suddenly I was calling to God again as my body convulsed in orgasm. Valerie pressed my hips against the desk until all violent motion had stopped; then she moved from behind me. I slid to my knees with my hands and forehead on the edge of the desk. Valerie gave me a minute to recover, then said "Get some pants on, whore; it's time to go." She pushed me to and out the front door as I pulled my shorts over my hips. I stepped into my flip flops, zipped my shorts and buttoned my blouse while Valerie pulled the inside door shut and locked it. She was off the porch and to her car before I cleared the steps. As she backed out of the driveway, I heard her yell, "See you at six, Lisa." Thirty feet of lawn with an ill-defined property line down the center separated Valerie's house from mine. I had walked the route between our doors hundreds of times, but now it felt as if I'd stepped into an alternate world. The breeze rustled in the palm trees and carried the scent of plumeria and seawater across my face. A variety of birds cooed, chirped, whistled and squawked in the foliage, and children shouted and squealed in the distance. Twenty shades of green, accented with red, white, and gold blossoms, brightened and dimmed as scattered clouds slid across a bright blue sky. The world was the same, I decided, but my senses had been awakened. I was not the same woman who had walked that route in the opposite direction earlier, and the new Lisa was experiencing Hawaii for the first time. My house was a mirror image of Valerie's in every way, except that Erik and I had a small patio and several flowering trees where Val and Bill had their pool and hot tub. The walk to my front steps took less than a minute. I climbed to the lanai, deposited my flip flops outside the door, and stepped inside. The warm scent of lu'au pork filled the foyer and probably the entire house. It reminded me that getting dinner together by six p.m. was not going to be a problem. The main course was in the slow cooker, the salad was already prepared and waiting in the refrigerator, and the side dishes would take less than thirty minutes. For dessert, I would pick up a fresh key lime pie at the bakery across the street from where I planned to buy my new bathing suit. I'd started my day with a four a.m. conference call, and the last few hours at Valerie's house had been exhausting. I needed a nap, but there would be time for that after I had all of my supplies for the evening. I still had almost five hours to work with. Driving to and from the shopping area would take thirty minutes. I could get the pie and a six pack of beer in another ten minutes, so I could be back in under an hour if I kept my swimsuit shopping to less than twenty minutes. It wasn't like I would be fretting over the perfect suit, and Murphy's Law should be on my side while I looked for something I really didn't want to wear. I closed and locked my front door and walked to the master bedroom in glorious privacy. I removed my shorts and placed them on the bed, then went to the bathroom and turned on the hot water spigot. I splashed my face with the running water. When it turned warm, I grabbed a wash cloth and soaked it, wringing out the excess before using it to clean the residue of arousal from between my legs. Then I dried my face and crotch with a hand towel, sat at the vanity counter, and did my five minute makeup routine. Once my face was ready, I re-clasped my bra and searched for something to cover my ass. The top of my panty drawer was filled with cotton briefs of the same style that Valerie had labeled "unsexy." I dug deeper and found a pair of light pink, soft, stretch-lace panties that were cut high on the hips and narrow on the ass. I pulled them on and had to admit that they made me feel a little sexier. I hoped they would please Valerie if she stopped me for a surprise inspection. I picked my shorts up off the bed and was treated to a scent that was suddenly all too familiar. It took me back to sucking Valerie's fingers clean and licking her pussy on the living room floor. I didn't need a pack of men high on pheromones floating home behind me after I finished shopping, so I pulled on a clean pair of light blue roll-up shorts. On my way back to the front door, I tossed the sex-soaked shorts into the laundry room. I needed to call my husband about our new plan for the evening. I found my cell phone on the desk facing the den windows, and I briefly imagined myself bent over there, as I had been in Val's den, waiting for something to be thrust into my eager pussy. I had to take a second to shake the image out of my mind before I pressed 'send'. Erik picked up on the first ring. "Hello gorgeous. What's going on?" "Well, we're going to Val's tonight instead of inviting her over here. Will six p.m. work for you?" "Eighteen hundred is fine with me, but did you talk her into wearing a burqa?" His perpetual good-natured humor was both endearing and, at times, annoying, but it gave me a lift to hear it now. "No," I said. "She's not wearing a burqa or a nun's habit or an invisibility cloak. She's dressing like she always does, and we're planning to spend some time in the hot tub again. I definitely didn't convince her to change anything today." "This sounds like a husband trap to me." Erik had every right to be suspicious; I hadn't been too kind when I'd suspected his eyes of wandering the prior evening. "I'm sorry about last night, Erik. I overreacted, and I want to make it up to you tonight. When we go over there, you can look all you want. You can bring binoculars and a magnifying glass, and I won't get angry. I'll go so far as promising you now that we'll have sex tonight, if you're interested." "Hmmm, today is Monday, which ends in 'Y'; so yes, I'm interested. And you don't need to worry about where my eyes wander; I won't see anything with this poor vision of mine." Erik had better than 20/15 vision. He could have seen Valerie's nipples through her swimsuit from half a mile away. "Ok, Mr. Magoo, do you need any beer?" "I'll take care of that on the way home; don't want to end up with another six pack of chick beer. I'll probably be home around seventeen hundred" "You might find me napping." "Don't forget: Dr. Oz recommends that women sleep without underwear." "Every straight man in America recommends that. I've got to go for a key lime pie now. Do you need anything else?" "Nope, a six pack of beer and a promise of sex were the only two things on my list today. Of course, I had the same list yesterday. I just keep moving the sticky note ahead on my desk calendar." "I'm going now, before I reconsider the sex promise. See you around five p.m." "Roger that. I'll call if anything comes up." Hawaiian Punched Ch. 03 I should have left SunNSurf and turned left to my car, but the lack of selection in the thong bikini department had left me with plenty of time, and something in my brain had been activated to notice and turn to all things sexual. Like a GPS turn-by-turn, it guided me around the block to Hot Wahine Adult Products. I'd always known the store was there, but had never been inside. I was curious, and I told myself that the store might hold some clues as to what Valerie meant when she said that she would take me to places I'd never even imagined. I pushed open the frosted glass door with the "Under 18: STOP" sign on the front and a little bell tinkled above me. The brown-skinned girl at the register greeted me with "Welcome to Hot Wahine. If you need any help, let us know. I'm Kyra, and that's Trina back by the furniture and restraints." "Thanks, I'm just looking to see what's here." I turned to the center of the store partly to end the conversation and partly because I was terrified to look at the furniture and restraints section. I didn't need to have a conversation with Trina about how I preferred to be handcuffed or tied or restrained with or without furniture. The center of the store featured mostly games "for two or more adults" and role-playing costumes. It appeared that both school girls and school teachers were popular choices. There were also fairy, police woman, and French maid outfits, all packed in large plastic bags with hangars built into the top. I moved a little up the center of the store and found the dancewear section. There were no ballet slippers or tap shoes, but plenty of stiletto heels, mostly attached to platform sandals and tall leather boots. There was also assorted lingerie, tube dresses with zigzag openings front and back, and half-tees and sheer button-ups that covered no lower than the navel. There was nothing I'd be dancing in any time soon. I took a hard left and reached the front corner of the store opposite the register. Enormous dildos hung from the wall in that corner. I gasped and turned right. I hurried past dildos colored to match various ethnicities and a section of "realistic" ones with wrinkled scrotums attached to the bottom of the shaft. I caught my breath in the relative safety of the "What a Girl Wants" section of the wall. I'd never known that there were so many types of vibrators and personal massagers. There were inexpensive plastic vibrators in lipstick shapes and rubber and jelly ones that were shaped like veiny penises. There was an entire section of rabbit vibes that had a small branch coming off the base that was obviously intended for clitoral stimulation. On the last row, adjacent to the back wall, hung a blue vibrator with two branches coming off the bottom on opposite sides of the main shaft. One branch resembled the rabbit clitoral stimulators. The other branch was longer and slim. I pulled one of the vibrators down from the display hook and accidentally knocked another package off of the back wall. I picked it up and discovered that it was a set of three butt plugs of increasing size in an "anal starter package." "That's a really good vibe." Trina had shown up at my right shoulder and was looking at the vibrator in my left hand. "Kyra and I each have one, and we both love the way the rabbit ears flutter. The anal probe doesn't vibe that much, but it's nice and slim, so it's perfect if you're just beginning anal play. You can also adjust it so it rests just outside the back door. It gives you a little less of that 'I am such a dirty girl' feeling, but it's still nice. Trina was probably twenty years old and completely comfortable talking to a customer about the naughty feeling she got with a vibrator prong stuck up her ass. I was twenty-seven and had sweat beading on my forehead merely because someone had noticed the packaged vibrator in my hand. I finally managed to squeak out a "Thank you. That's good to know." But Trina wasn't done. "Don't forget, you get a free slippery surprise with any purchase over twenty-five dollars, and those butt plugs come with a complementary one-and-a-half ounce bottle of relaxing anal lube." "Great, thank you." I had forgotten all about the package of butt plugs in my hand, but it seemed that nothing escaped the little redhead's attention. "If you like, I can put those items behind the register for you while you continue shopping." She was probably just being helpful, but it felt a bit like she was assuming the sale, a technique that usually pissed me off. It didn't matter, because anger was not available to me in my current state. I gawked for a moment at Trina's delicate face and decided that the close-cropped hair, the stud in her nose, and the tattoo on her shoulder were all attempts to harden a look that would otherwise be beautiful but too fragile. "No, thank you," I said. "I was just looking." "Ok, just let me know if you need any more help." Trina went back to putting fur-lined handcuffs on a display rack. For my husband, this kind of situation would turn into the greatest party story ever. I, on the other hand, could barely control my shaking enough to get the vibrator and butt plugs back onto their hooks. I turned the corner past Trina and the bed restraint system, the doorway sex hammock, the instructional videos, and Hawaii's best selection of personal lubricants. I was totally ready to get my pie and rolls in the car and get back to my house. I almost ran over Kyra when she stepped from behind the register with a clipboard in her hand. "Don't forget our free catalogue," she said. "You can phone in your order and we'll have it discretely packaged for pick-up." She handed me a five-by-eight glossy catalogue and pointed to the clipboard. "If you like, you can receive our newest catalogue in the privacy of your email inbox. This form states our privacy policy, which basically says that we promise to never sell or share your email address or any other information. If you write your email address here" -- she pointed to a line at the bottom of the privacy statement-- "we'll get you on the list today." The normal me would have said "No, thanks," but my reptilian brain was in charge, and it just wanted out the door. No reading the privacy policy. Just do what they ask and escape. I put the catalogue into the bag with my swimsuits and wrote my email address on the line. Kyra looked at it and said "Oh, your name's Lisa. That's my sister's name." My stomach turned at the sudden loss of anonymity. They had better honor their damned privacy policy. "Thank you for your help," I said, and pushed past her to the door. "Have a Hot Wahine evening, Lisa, and come back soon." It seemed like an eternity from the beginning of my enlightening anal naughtiness conversation with Trina to my final escape, but it couldn't have been more than five minutes. I arrived home forty-five minutes after I'd left, and I could hear my bed calling me. I dropped my strappy wedge sandals in a basket by the door, slid the pie in the refrigerator, and took the SunNSurf bag to the bedroom. I laid the green top and green-trimmed bottoms on the bed and shed my clothes for the big swimsuit reveal. The mirrored sliding closet doors reflected the tan lines of my most daring swimsuits, which meant that there was a significant amount of white skin on my ass and three-quarters of my breasts. I checked my look in the mirror and was happy with all but my least favorite angles and satisfied that even those were attractive enough. My ass didn't have the pow factor that Valerie's did, but I was no slouch. I had smooth curves without her hardness, but also without sag. I picked up the suit, and my reflection looked more naked in the way that a lingerie model looks more wanton in a pair of heels. I pulled the bottoms on first and immediately realized I had some bikini line work to do before my nap. The top was ridiculous. My breasts shone white around two green triangles like I was trying to beam out twin signals for a new superhero named Geometry Man. I used a scissors to trim along my new bikini line then undressed, if it could even be called that, and put all the bathing suits and the Hot Wahine catalogue into my lingerie drawer. I tossed a nightshirt onto the bed in anticipation of my post-shaving nap. I sat on the edge of the bathtub for ten minutes and carefully shaved my new bikini line with a fresh razor then cleaned up and crawled onto the bed and into my nightshirt. Gravity pulled me onto the pillow, and my world collapsed into a black hole of silence. Hawaiian Punched Ch. 03 "You didn't know because it's not safe for him to discuss anything sexual around you. I'll bet that I know more than you do about what Erik would enjoy in bed. Hell, he would have loved to see you licking my pussy this morning. He and Bill have encouraged me to seduce you and help you break out of your shell. When they tell us to go make out in the hot tub while they drink beer, they're only half kidding, and they both know that I have some experience with girls." I wasn't completely surprised. The "You two go make out" joke came up too often to not have at least some honest desire behind it. Val slipped a finger under my waistband and pulled the G-string from between my buttocks as her finger moved to the center of my ass. She slid the spatula under the string horizontally then released the tension to hold it in place. "Listen up, slut." "Yes, ma'am." "For the rest of the evening, you are to follow my lead. Do you know the first rule of improv?" "No, ma'am." "The first rule of improv is to say 'Yes, and...' That means you don't block any direction I'm going. For you, the 'and' part should be more wild, more sexy, and more fun. You say something that jibes with the conversation or suggestion and then take it a notch sluttier. Understand?" "Yes, ma'am." "When it's time to unveil your new swimsuit, I'll give you a signal. It'll be soon, because I want some separation between that and when you take your top off in the hot tub." "Ma'am?" "Yes, you will take your top off in the hot tub tonight." "No, it's not that. Erik is drying off. His beer is empty." And my ass was exposed with a wooden spatula wedged across it. When Erik walked into the kitchen, our meal had been reheated in the microwave and his wife's ass was covered with a sarong. "You girls done plotting?" "Not quite," Val said, "but we have set our booby traps. Once Lisa removes her shirt and sarong, you'll be putty in our hands." "You underestimate me, Blondie." Val handed him a fresh bottle of beer and stood facing him across the corner of the table. "I have to admit that you've been very disciplined. Your eyes haven't been tempted downward once. Aren't my boobs nice enough to entice you?" "Maybe I'm just lost in your eyes." Erik looked across the table at me. "Did I just step on a land mine?" I smiled. "No. You're safe to proceed." His eyes went straight back to Valerie's. "Ok, to answer your question: Since I met Lisa, I forgot that other women had anything worth checking out. Now, sometimes I'll be looking at a bunny-shaped cloud on the horizon and a beach bunny will walk her body in the way; and Lisa sees these little LASER dots wherever my eyes go, so you can see where there might be some confusion." Val laughed, put her hand on his chest. "You can stop worrying about that, Erik. Lisa and I talked about it, and you've been granted total eyeball liberty." "Really?" Erik looked back at me. "Of course," I said. "I told you on the phone, remember? You can look at whatever you want for as long as you want, and I won't be angry. I'll pinky promise if you like." "And it won't give you a headache?" "No, dear. I made a promise, you might recall." He leaned on the table, "That, I remember." Val covered his hand with hers on the table. She was touching him a lot. "Relax, buddy. Lisa's agreed to be the test case for my new personal growth counseling business. She decided this morning that she wanted to attack some of her inhibitions and limiting attitudes about sex." Erik nodded. "I'll do whatever I can to help." Oh, he was such a trooper. Unknowingly aiding and abetting my blackmailer. "Good," Val said. "I'll need your feedback to track her progress. You just let Lisa know everything you want and tell me which lines she won't cross." "You girls go into that much detail with each other?" "That's a trade secret, mister." Val was smiling, and her hand was on his chest again. "I see. So I don't have to tear pictures of Megan Fox out of my magazines?" "Oh no, you should even let Lisa know when you see something you like, and no magazine or topless beach is off limits." Erik looked at me, eyebrows raised. "She's right," I said. "I want you to look, and I want to know what you think." Improv: yes, and... "By the way, you still haven't told Val what you think of her boobs." Val smiled even bigger and gave me an approving nod. Erik held my eyes for a moment, then stepped around the corner of the table and looked at Val. This time he was not maintaining eye contact. "They're magnificent, Val. They should be immortalized in art. Looking at them makes me want to take Lisa home to make sure we shut off the crock pot and didn't leave a screwdriver in the toaster." Val framed her breasts with her hands. "These dusty old things? You are too kind." My mind offered up a vision of Erik's cock sliding between her tits. "So," I asked, "looking at Val's breasts makes you want to have sex with me?" "Looking at anything makes me want to have sex with you, Lisa. Val's scrumptious breasts just make it a matter of some urgency." "So they make you want to fuck me now?" Erik looked back at me. "You know the F-word?" "I just used it." "You just used 'fuck me,' the number one romantic phrase men want to hear from their wives... and, incidentally, the last thing picked up on many cockpit voice recorders." Val had moved to Erik's side and put an arm around his waist. "Good job, Lisa. That was obviously an important first, and you've lured the man right into our lair." She motioned for me to move so the table was no longer between us. "Go ahead, girlfriend. Release the Kraken!" I pulled off my t-shirt first and laid it over the back of the nearest chair. Then I unclipped the sarong and put it on top of the t-shirt. When I looked back toward Val and Erik, she had moved away from his side and he stood wide-eyed. There was a three-step distance between us, but the hungry look on Erik's face when he finally moved toward me caused me to back a step and cover with my knuckles under my chin and my forearms over my chest. He took me by the wrists and pulled me close; kissed my lips until I relaxed and responded, then put his cheek to mine and said, "That's a pretty inhibited pose, babe." He stepped back and urged my arms down to my sides. His eyes wandered over my body before coming up to meet my own. "My god, you are unbelievable." He slipped his hands around my waist and pulled me close. I could feel his erect cock pressing above my bikini bottom. He kissed his way from my collar bone over my neck to my lips while his hands explored my string-clad backside. Finally, he pulled me tight against him, one hand between my shoulder blades and one on the border of my back and my ass. He kissed me again, and his hands slid to my butt. Erik turned his head from our kiss. "Val, could you run to our house and check the toaster thing and make sure none of my playing cards are missing? There are three decks in the top drawer of my nightstand." "Sorry, Erik. I'm hungry and our food is already cooling. I think you're going to need your energy later, too." Erik sighed. "I suppose I am hungry, but I've got dessert in my hands already." "Come on, funny man. Step away from the hottie." Erik began to step back but I caught his arm. "Wait," I said. "I forgot to tell you something." I pulled his ear to my lips, moaned and whispered, "Fuck me." For the second time that day, I'd rendered a man speechless.