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Arn

By: corbendallas



It was quiet in the village marketplace today, not much business. Instead of selling their wares the merchants were chatting and gossiping amongst themselves. Arn did not like to partake in such activities, she and her son, Kraik, kept to themselves. Since it was a slow day she decided to take down their booth, disassembling the tent that provided much needed shelter from the brutal rays of the sun. Well, the skies were cloudy now but it was still warm and muggy. She and Kraik put away the animal furs and leather goods she made, such as belts, vests, sandals, bags, saddles, etc. She also made musical instruments such as maracas and flutes. She played a flute briefly before stocking it away in a wooden crate. The crates they loaded into the back of a wooden wagon. 

Arn was a thick, muscular woman with long, curly blonde hair, standing 5'11" in height. Her skin was a suntanned brown, from being outdoors a lot, and she wore nothing except a pair of leather sandals whose laces strapped up her calves. Those calves and thighs of her were huge and muscular. Her butt was big and curvy, her breasts large with their big nipples, her arms brawny. She had a reputation in the village as a strong, independent woman, one not to be messed with, who spoke her mind, and who often helped and protected those that were vulnerable. 

Strangely, her son, Kraik, did not possess his mother's physical qualities. He was a short, skinny nude teenage kid, but did have blonde hair and a tanned complexion as well. 

After the wagon was fully loaded, a young white haired ape, a classmate of Kraik's, approached them. Oddly enough, every time Arn saw him the more his physical features seemed more human: he was starting to have less and less hair, his large gorilla forehead was become less pronounced, his wide, flaring nostrils flattening, his distended jaw as well as massive, bulky body was shrinking down to human size it seemed. His white hair was growing thinner and getting darker. Even though he was a youngster he had one of the biggest dicks in the village, and that penis was getting more pinkish color in pigmentation, like that of a healthy human male. The transformation was eerie. 

"Going so soon?" the young ape asked, smiling. 

"Hey, Zed," Arn said, returning a friendly grin. "Yep, afraid so. It's dead today." She noticed that he'd been looking at her more, making more eye contact, and it made her uncomfortable. She considered Zed like a son. He and Kraik had gone to the same school since the beginning, played with each other and the other village kids at their farm. She even baby-sat him countless times. So she had reason to be unnerved. She considered sitting down and talking to Zed about this, and to remind him that according to village law it was forbidden that humans and apes be in an intimate relationship. If caught the punishment was severe. Arn rehearsed this little 'pep talk' in her head many times but hadn't followed through yet. 

"Hi Zed," Kraik said. 

"Hello, brother Kraik," Zed said jocularly, hitting him playfully on the chest. "Hey, wanna throw stones at the river later?" 

"Sure." 

"Kraik, you have farm chores, today," his mother reminded him firmly. 

He frowned. "Oh, mom, please, can't I play with Zed just a little while? We'll only be half an hour at the most and I'll be back on the farm before you know it." 

She hated when he did this, his 'haggling, begging' act as she referred to it. She loved him to death and was always thinking about him, and more often than not she played the good mother, good cop and acquiesced to his pleading. "Okay, young man, half an hour only. Am I clear?" 

He smiled excitedly. "Yes, mom! Thanks!" 

* * *

Arn and Kraik rode the wagon back to their farm first. It was a bumpy ride down a lone, quiet dirt road. Why didn't the village fix the damn potholes? she wondered. They're always raising taxes but they won't make improvements. The lush, green forest was silent around them, not a soul in sight. Arn whipped the horses again and they went faster. 

They arrived at the farm minutes later, and Kraik helped her unload the wagon. Then he was off into the woods enthusiastically. 

"Remember, half an hour only!" she shouted after him. 

He nodded and vanished. Arn shook her head. Kids, she thought. Verdon, her late husband and her only had one child. They felt it was enough. Every time she looked at Kraik she saw Verdon, quietly weeping inside. God, he looked so much like him, had his mannerisms, character flaws and everything. Verdon had been robbed and killed by a young gang of gorillas on the farm. Initially, she was angry at all apes and vowed never to speak to one again. But later, she realized she shouldn't judge all apes, that they weren't all like that. Knowing apes like Zed and his family certainly proved not all apes were bad. 

While Kraik played with his friend she tended to farm duties, feeding the livestock and horses, changing some horse shoes, milking the cows, and working in the garden. 

After getting fresh, cold water from the well, a group of young white haired apes on horses rumbled onto the farm, shooting her hateful stares. 

"You've been warned before, human woman," one of them said. "Your land is the rightful property of the village and is to be returned. Do you understand, human?" 

"Get off my land!" Arn said, dropping the bucketful of water. "This is my land, do you understand me?" 

When they didn't budge she ran into the stone house with the thatched roof and grabbed her rifle. When she returned they were still there. 

"Don't do anything stupid, human woman," the ape said, showing no fear. "If you don't return this land to the village it will be taken from you by force." 

"Why?! Who makes that decision?!" 

"This has always been ape land, and shall always be. Humans are not welcome here." 

Arn pointed the rifle at him. "Get off my farm!" 

"We'll be back," he said firmly, and they rode off into the forest. 

* * *

At dinnertime, Arn was noticeable quiet and didn't eat much and Kraik observed this, not eating much himself. "Are you okay?" he asked softly. 

She pushed her plate of steaming food away, nodding slowly. 

"Then why are you so quiet?" 

She remained silent for a few moments. "Nothing. . .just thinking." 

"About what?" 

"About your father. . .I really miss him." She dried her watery eyes. "I wish he was here." 

"Me too. Sometimes I can still feel his presence." 

She smiled at him. "Me too." She paused a moment. "Thanks for obeying me, about coming back in half an hour today. You're a good kid." 

"I'm not a little kid, mom." 

She squeezed his cheek, grinning affectionately. "I know." 

* * *

Arn was changing a horse shoe when Zed appeared out of no where, peering into the barn. She looked up, startled. 

There was a mischievous smile on his face, again a face that appeared more human each time she saw him. There seemed to be less white hair on it this time, the nose was more straight looking, the nostrils less wide, the lips were slim now, the ears not so big. His long arms no longer dangled down at his sides when he walked now, more and more he walked upright like a man. He didn't have the clumsy, awkward mannerisms of a gorilla, but still had its splayed feet. 

"Zed," she said, trying to appear calm and in control. Her bare ass rested on a wooden stool. The horse whinnied softly. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he lied. When in fact, he did intend to do that, and also to instill his manhood here, that he was an equal here, equal like a human. He also figured the barn was a nice, quiet place where they could be alone, without Kraik around. 

"It's okay." Arn tried not to look at his long, pink penis dangling down between his legs. God, his balls were huge and drooped down!! They looked human! She had a goat in the pen that had big balls like that. 

"Say, that's a fine looking stallion you got there," he commented casually. 

"Thanks. It won first place at the village fair last year." But she knew deep down he didn't come here to talk about her animals. 

He shot her a flirtatious look, looking at her large, tanned breasts, her big nipples, her big pussy that was covered with blondish hairs, and at her giant, muscular thighs and calves. 

Arn averted her eyes. "Zed, why are you looking at me that way? You're not supposed to," she warned. "Remember, the law." 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, the law. We have to respect the law, no matter what, right? Who cares about it? I certainly don't." 

"Don't speak like that, Zed," she said firmly. "You don't want to get in trouble." 

"What? Are you gonna report me? I can't believe you would. I'm one of Kraik's best friends, we've been classmates for a long time, played with each other. You babysitted me. You know me and my parents so well." 

She stared him straight in the eyes. "That's right, Zed. You're practically family, and that's why I can't believe you're violating the law speaking this blasphemy. . .you're like my own son, I've lost track how many times you've come here for dinner. That's why your sudden change of behavior is scaring me." 

"Have you slept with an ape, Arn?" he asked bluntly. 

"Stop it! Why are you asking me that?" 

"Just answer the question." 

"I won't!" 

"Have you ever had ape cock before?" 

She covered her ears with her hands. "Stop it! Get out of here before I report it to the village council!" 

"Rumor has it that you haven't had sex in a while, not since your husband died." His grin was naughty. 

Arn got up. "Leave!" 

Zed backed away. Suddenly, Kraik ran up to him, smiling. "Hey, Zed. Wanna go play at the river?" 

Arn shot him an angry look. "No! Not today, Kraik!" 

Zed ignored her. "Sure, c'mon." 

"Kraik, you come back here right now!" Arn demanded. 

Kraik turned towards her. "Aw, mom, c'mon! We won't be that long. We're just gonna throw stones." 

"No, I said not today!" 

"Why not? I did all my chores already." 

"I need your help doing something else," she lied. 

"What? Ain't nothing else that needs to be done." 

"Don't question your mother." 

There was a conflicted mask on Kraik's face, he looked at Zed and then at his mom. 

"C'mon, Kraik, don't be a sissy momma's boy. You're a man, you don't need to listen to your ma anymore." He pulled Kraik to come with him. 

Arn pulled her son away from the young ape teen. "You're in trouble, young man! The village council is going to hear about this!" 

Zed walked off, looking over his shoulder and giving her that devilish smile. 

* * *

"The rumor is that Zed is a hybrid child, borne out of a union between a male ape and a human woman long ago," Bella said. "Those biological parents were caught of their blasphemy and executed, by order of the village council." 

"But that's not true," Arn interjected. "Zed's parents are full apes. They're close friends of mine." 

"I understand. Like I said, it's just an old rumor that's been circulating around the village. Inquiries were made by some, trying to locate traces of Zed's original parents but no evidence whatsoever could be found. No other relatives, no friends or other villagers knew about this blasphemous couple. . .odd, isn't it?" Bella was Arn's neighbor at the marketplace, her booth right next door. 

Arn told her about how Zed appeared more human each time she saw him. 

"That supports the hybrid parent theory," Bella remarked, swatting a fly off her bare thigh. 

"I don't know," Arn replied. "That's a pretty crazy story." 

A customer approached her booth, marveling at the leather belts she had on a rack. 

"Those are all on sale," Arn said. "Half off." 

The customer then looked at the animal furs and a set of maracas. "You made these?" he asked, shaking the maracas. 

She smiled proudly. "Yes." 

"Impressive. I buy them," he said, and also purchased a sheepskin fur blanket and a belt. 

"Thank you. Come again." 

Another customer came but had no credit. "Can we barter?" 

"Certainly. What have you got?" 

He opened up his bag and brought out a bunch of items. Arn pointed to some tins of canned meat, a sealed first aid kit, and a flashlight. When he left, she kept thinking about the hybrid theory Bella talked about, her brow furrowed. 

Later that day, Arn saw Zed and a group of young apes saunter by her booth. He pretended to look at the belt rack, spinning it idly. One of his friends played with another set of maracas and then a flute. 

"If you're not going to buy anything don't touch it," she stressed. 

They ignored her. 

She faced Zed. "I informed the village council." 

"Yeah, and thanks to you my parents chewed my ears off for a whole hour!" he retorted. "They forbade me to set foot on your farm again and won't let me play with Kraik anymore." 

"You knew the consequences. The council will make a decision shortly." 

"I'm gonna get even." He eyed her carefully and walked off with his buddies. 

Bella whispered to her, "Watch your back! Those youngsters bullied my kids. I knew they were trouble when I first laid eyes on them." 

* * *

One night, about eleven, Arn was in her bedroom playing a flute. Kraik was asleep. His room was far from hers and he couldn't hear it. She sat naked, Indian-style on the queen-sized bed that was covered with a leopard skin blanket. She'd been playing the flute since she was Kraik's age, and occasionally she and him would perform at the open mic at the local village tavern. Bella and others praised her for her magnificent pipes and musical talent. But Arn was modest, always blushing and saying "I'm okay." 

It was a warm night and the bedroom curtains and window were open. Her back faced the window, and unbeknownst to her, the local ape goons who had threatened her earlier were watching her. She put the flute to her lips and blew into the hole, creating a nice melody. 

When she was done, she heard clapping behind her. She spun around and saw the apes, mouth dropping open. 

"Very beautiful," the same gang leader said. "I've seen you at the tavern and must say you're quite talented for a human." 

"Get off my land!" Arn snapped. 

"No, this is ape land," he corrected. His buddies nodded. "This is your last warning, human woman. "If you don't surrender your farm to us by week's end we'll take it by force." 

Arn got off the bed, walking up to the window. "I did some checking and your actions aren't even endorsed by the village council. You're simply acting on behalf of some overzealous, human hating apes. A small, worthless minority. Now get out of here!" 

When they didn't move away from the window she grabbed her rifle. Suddenly, the apes shattered the window and climbed through. Arn screamed, aiming the weapon at the leader. She squeezed the trigger and the bullet struck him squarely in the chest and he collapsed to the ground. She fired at a second white haired ape and he dropped dead too. Before she could shoot again an ape snatched the rifle from her. That's when she punched the ape several times, sending him reeling backwards, knocking into a bookshelf. Things smashed to the ground. The last ape she wrestled with, bear hugging him from behind. Because of her Amazonian height, she towered over him and was able to move her hands up to his neck and break it. His dead weight dropped limp against her. The one ape that survived, the one that fell against the bookshelf, got scared and scampered out the window, cutting himself against the shards of glass. 

"Don't you ever come back here again!" Arn warned. "You hear me?!" 

Kraik poked his head through the door and asked sheepishly, "Are you okay, mom?" 

* * *

Arn and Kraik performed at the local tavern's open mic the following Friday evening to a semi-full crowd. Arn played the flute solo for a few numbers, and then switched over to maracas and sang while Kraik played the guitar. She was working up a good sweat too, feeling sweat trickle down her wide, suntanned back and down her huge, muscular thighs. Shaking those maracas, tapping her bare foot on the stage. Audience members applauded and cheered, saying, "All right, Arn!" or "You go, girl!" 

Moses, the owner, a heavyset black man, winked at her and gave her a thumbs up from behind the bar. She continued tapping her foot on the next number too, perfecting the shaking of the maracas down to a science. And she was eclectic in their repertoire, playing the harp and for the finale, a wooden synthesizer type contraption with steel pedals. Sitting down behind the synthesizer, she played and belted out a few songs, catching those difficult high notes. The audience hooted and cheered again. "All right, Arn!" 

When their set was done Moses handed them each a glass of water. She wiped the sweat from her face and neck, gulping down the glass. As people left the tavern at the end of the night Arn and Kraik started packing up their musical equipment. 

"You sounded really great tonight, mom," Kraik praised. "The best I've ever heard, in fact." 

She smiled. "Thanks." 

Moses nodded, chiming in: "Indeed, now we gotta book you for some more shows. You're selling out the joint! I have some friends in the big city and I'm sure they'd love to have you." 

She appeared reluctant. "I don't know, Moses, big cities and big crowds scare me." 

"Well, think about it." 

She and Kraik loaded their gear onto the wagon. That was when the same ape thugs appeared out of the darkness. One wielded a knife and tried jumping her but she pushed him away. Moses ran them off with a baseball bat. "You okay?" 

Arn nodded. 

* * *

Arn hadn't seen Zed and his buddies in weeks. She was relieved of that. Maybe they finally got it in their thick skulls that the law didn't play around. It wasn't a game. Still, she was concerned about Zed 'cause he was practically like a son to her, knowing him all these years. Kraik was sad that he couldn't see his friend anymore but visibly upset about the encounter between Zed and his mother. Arn felt she might've been too harsh with the young ape. The village council's punishment was that he was forbidden to ever set foot again on her farm and couldn't even talk to her or Kraik anymore. If he was caught again, he would be banned from the village and his family would be humiliated, outcasts forever. 

Arn's curiosity got the best of her and she decided to look into the hybrid theory. One morning, when Kraik was at school, she rode her horse past the village boundary, into the outer territories. The outer territories were also known as Zone 1, an unexplored wasteland that villagers were always afraid of venturing into. It was there in Zone 1 that the rumor Bella mentioned took root. Rumor had it that the ape male and human woman met out there in a cave and copulated. Arn was hoping to dig up anything on the topic, to satisfy her curiosity. Zed didn't know about his true past and part of her felt obliged to tell him, however painful that might be for the boy. Maybe I shouldn't do it, she mused. Another part pushed her on. 

The horse took her to the foot of the Shalo Mountains, a steep granite wall that extended way up into the blue heavens. Wearing nothing but her leather sandals and a backpack she made the arduous ascent up the face of the mountain. When she reached the first plateau she discovered a calm, peaceful creek and drank the fresh water there. Not a soul was in sight. When she got to the second peak she saw the entrance of the cave, a large crevice covered by vines and stray vegetation. After hacking away the vines with her machete she went inside, the bright, lone cone of a flashlight her only guide. She heard water trickling inside. The place was damp yet cool. Probing further down a dirt pathway surrounded by stalactites and stalagmites she came across a white sign that read: 'Haight Street' and another that said, 'Ashbury Street.' What the devil did it mean? Moments later she discovered another sign that was sticking out of the cavern's inky black river. This one read: 'Golden Gate Park.' Intrigued, she moved on. 


Arn



The river led her to a large underground lake. Mossy stones lied everywhere. Where did this couple conceive Zed? she wondered. It was rumored to have taken place near water, which she was near right now. She saw a massive metal hulk sticking out of one edge of the lake in the shape of a bus. On the side of it were the words: 'MUNI.' What did it all mean? 

Suddenly she heard shuffling sounds, they grew into quick footsteps. There was more than one set and they were all around her. She started backtracking out of the cavern. Here and there she caught glimpses of hairy, ape-like figures in the cone of her flashlight, wielding clubs. They seemed more primitive than the white haired apes in the village. They snarled at her and tried to grab her. One snatched her long, curly blonde hair and yanked it hard. She screamed, kicking the beast. Suddenly, they surrounded her and there was no way out. Arn tried to rush past them but there was simply too many of them. The air in the dark cave started getting stuffy as they closed in on her like an army of ants. 

"Oh, shit!" she said, up to her eyeballs in apes. 

One ripped the backpack from her. She tried to snatch it back but it had already been engulfed by the pitch blackness. Another yanked her blonde hair again, mesmerized by its color, as if they'd never seen a blonde hair woman before. Without warning, the flashlight was knocked out of her hand and darkness swallowed her up. Next thing she knew one of the beasts dealt her a blow on the back of the head and she went out like a light. 

* * *

When Arn woke up she found herself lying on the floor inside what appeared to be a vehicle of some sort. It was long and enclosed with many seats. Old advertisements and yellowed newspapers lied near her. There was some light and held up a wrinkled, curled paper to her eyes. It read: 'San Francisco Chronicle, December 4, 20-' The rest had faded out. A headline further down the page said: 'President Obama meets with-' And the rest was faded. What is San Francisco? she wondered curiously. Was that the name of this place? Before the cave and mountains were here? 

But more pressing now was the painful migraine she was experiencing. That took precedent. She dropped the newspaper and massaged her poor head, where some dumb clod pounded her. There was a bit of blood but not much. As long as she didn't move her head much, it was okay. If she did her things would swirl around and it would feel like knives were being stabbed into her brain. She spat out bloody saliva and sat up slowly. Looking out the window she realized she was on one of those buses she had seen earlier. This must've been their mode of transportation way back when. 

She saw Zed sitting in one of those seats before her. Her legs were splayed open slightly and he had a picture perfect view of what lay between her legs. She immediately closed them, turning away from him. Behind him were some white haired apes from the village as well as the more primitive species she encountered in the cave. 

"So you're behind this, too?" she asked disgustedly. "I'm disappointed in you, Zed. You're one of Kraik's closest friends and to know you were responsible for this too. You know you're violating the law again. You're not supposed to be near me." 

"Who cares about the dumb laws?" he asked. 

"You're frightening me, Zed. What's happened to you? You weren't like this before. . .you were a sweet little kid before. You were never like this. . ." 

"People change, things change. . .I wanna be a man. I wanna be a human man and experience what a human male experiences. . .you're right, I've changed, and I'm still changing. . .I feel more like a man than ever before. My body's changing. I'm not a little kid anymore, Arn. I feel what a human male feels, I have feelings of anger, happiness, sadness, loneliness, frustration. But most of all I have feelings of lust now and it's overpowering at times. Sometimes I feel like I can't control it, that it's controlling me, changing me." He continued looking into her eyes. "I feel horny a lot. Do you understand me?" 

She looked away. "This is not the proper way to express your feelings, Zed. This is wrong and it is blasphemy, according to the village law." 

"I don't want to hear anything more about the law! Those were written by senile old people who don't know anything." 

"If you have sexual feelings you need to find one of your own species to express yourself." 

He looked in her eyes. "But I want you." 

She shook her head. "No, you can't. It is wrong, Zed." And strangely enough, as soon as she said that she saw his big, long manhood right before, dangling before her like a carrot on a stick, and his big balls, teasing and enticing her. She saw that and felt aroused. It was criminal, she knew, but for some unexplainable reason she was feeling turned on by the sight of his genitals. She kept staring at it and another part of her kept saying, 'Turn away, turn away! Don't look! Why are you looking?!' The reasonable part of her told her it was immoral to look and to have these feelings. But why didn't she turn away, damnit? Maybe all Zed's taunting and Bella's story had gotten to her. She felt a stirring in her loins she never thought she'd experience for this creature. She tried to resist full force and eventually did look away, angry at herself. 

"C'mon, Arn, you know you want it," he said, shooting her a naughty grin. "You can't deny the truth. Don't hide from it. You know lust always prevails over all else. . .you haven't experienced intimacy with another man for a long, long time, not since your husband died. That's a long time to not experience pleasure." 

Arn was angry at him because he spoke the truth. . .how did he know all this? How did he know?! He knew her innermost desires and secrets. She missed the touch and feel of a man. It had been a long time indeed. He spread his legs wide open, so his pride and joy was picture perfect before her. 

She didn't look at him. "Please let me go, Zed." 

"Have you had ape cock before?" 

"No, I have not. Please release me." 

"You know you want it, don't you?" 

No answer. He crouched down near her, burying his face in her long, sweaty curly blonde hair, smelling the scent of human sweat and peanut butter sun block from her naked body. He rubbed his straight, human-like nose against that sweaty, sticky skin, sniffing and following each freckle and mole on her wide, tanned back. His nose moved down to her big, curvy butt, sniffing the crack of her ass like an animal sniffing its prey. Arn was angry at herself for not getting up and escaping, upset at herself for not pushing him away. Why couldn't she just resist and get up? Because deep down inside she was really hungry for it? She didn't want to know the truth. 

"Arn, I want to be your man, your husband," he whispered seductively into her ear. And that's when she felt his wet, warm tongue being branded on her big, brown butt. That was the initial contact that sort of signaled the point of no return. . .she felt that long, wet tongue probe deeper and deeper between her cheeks. 

Dear God, she thought. Dear God. . . She immediately thought of Bella's story, about the hybrid union that was little Zed. 

THE END 



Arnemagne's Revival



This is the revised version of this story, and I am hoping to produce more chapters sooner or later. Also, please vote, and send feedback. I appreciate feedbacks a great deal, since they are how we get "paid" here at Lit. Thanks!

* * * *

Arnemagne the Mage felt a shiver of joy flow down through his aged body as he came to fully realize what it was that he held in his hands. This was what he had spent the better part of his seventy-seven years looking for. His old heart beat quicker in excitement.

"I must remain calm," he told himself. "I knew it would be found, I knew it was only a matter of time. I cannot allow myself to die of excitement after all these years of searching, with eternal life so close to my grasp." With closed eyes, he willed his body to relax. His aged heart slowed again.

Again opening his eyes after regaining control, he finished carefully unrolling the faded, yellowed scroll. He verified that it was intact, glanced over the ancient letterings, and then carefully rolled it up and replaced it within the cunningly crafted thigh bone that had hidden it for the last few centuries.

* * * *

Upon returning to his stone tower on the edge of the Pearlbriar Forest, Arnemagne gazed proudly at it once again. This tower was a work of magical artistry. For one thing, it had no entrance. No door for would be thieves, or apprentices or ignorant fools to come knocking on. No windows through which a shape-changed spy or rival mage could fly, or assassin in gaseous form could float. No slits through which a well placed arrow could kill him. It was simply a solid stone tower. Arnemagne smiled. He was proud of this.

For him, the tower was open. For him and him alone, the stone allowed access and egress. For him, the solid rock passed through flesh without making contact. He casually strode right through the tower wall.

The inside was lit by everlights, placed here and there. It was small, this tower. Small by most other mage's standards; perhaps sixty feet in height and half that in diameter at the base. But it served his purposes. Arnemagne strode past the table and ignored the bottles of wine he usually sampled upon returning home. Instead, he stood in the circle of white stone that was located in the center of the otherwise stone-gray floor, and willed himself up.

The tower only had three floors. The first was his library and relaxation room. The second was his bedroom; and the third was his laboratory. The upper two were accessible only to the holder of special key items: each required a specially enchanted gem. The second floor required a special reddish-purple star ruby which had been cut into a six rayed star shape, and the third floor required a rare black emerald, so named because it was rich dark green, almost black. Arnemagne naturally had both of those in his possession, and so rose through both stone floors without effort as he wished.

Upon arriving in his laboratory, the smells of his experiments greeted his nose. Nothing pleasant, but certainly not horrible, either. There was a stone table off to one side, a summoning pentagram opposite a thaumaturgic triangle off to another side, and a heavy golden cage across the room from the stone desk.

In that cage, there was a beautiful young woman. She was barely eighteen years of age, although she certainly looked younger - some thought as young as sixteen. She had long, wavy pale golden locks that flowed freely down her back, and she was dressed in a royal purple velvet dress, as he had clothed her. The color did not look particularly good on her, but it was a dress that Arnemagne liked, and he also liked how this girl looked. In his mind, the combination was a good one.

The girl sat there within her cage looking hopeless, frightened, hungry and sad all at once. You could have said 'bedraggled', had she not been so perfectly clean and dressed in such rich garb. Arnemagne looked at her and smiled with the pleasure that only an old man who knows he is about to fulfill years of desire can.

Decade upon decade of life and exposure to the substances he experimented with had rendered him unable to eject fluids upon orgasm; erections were difficult to achieve, but not impossible; and he had not had an orgasm worth talking about in a good many years. But as his mind burned on within his failing shell, so burned his desires, even if the flesh was unable to follow the orders those desires issued.

"Tonight, my lovely, you will be set free of that cage." said Arnemagne.

Almost instantly, her face and entire demeanor changed. It was as the difference between a dark, stuffy dungeon, and a sunlit square at noon. 

"Do you speak the truth, old wizard? Or do you jest?" she asked, hope and fear mingling thick in her speech.

"I am not a wizard, girl, I'm a mage. How many times must I say that?" he sighed in exasperation. "But no, I do not jest. You will make a trade with me, and those feet shall walk the High Road tonight."

Arnemagne's tower was many miles from any form of civilization. He did not wish to be disturbed by anyone, least of all angry mobs of uninformed idiots waving pitchforks and torches. There were no roads directly to the tower, but there was one - the High Road - that passed it by several miles out. It was regularly patrolled by the King's High Road Guard, who kept it free of nuisances such as bandits and robbers and highwaymen.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" she cried out in her beautiful silken voice.

"You must pay for your freedom however." he continued with a sly smile. "You must grant me the fulfillment of my wicked desires. That is the trade I mentioned earlier."

The girl gasped. "But... I can't do that! I am a virgin, and I am promised to the Prince of Manguria in marriage! If I am not pure when he takes me, he will become enraged and cut off my head!"

"The prince will do no such thing, fool girl. Do you really think I would allow someone to harm that beautiful body? Not even King Elbert and all his armies, assassins, torturers and spies could harm a hair on you if I wished otherwise. You will be safe granting my demands. Besides; if you choose not to share your flesh with me voluntarily, I have no qualms about making the experience a forced one. I will pierce your depths this night, girl. You can either give me what I wish voluntarily, or I can make it happen against your will. It is your choice, although I would certainly prefer that you shared yourself voluntarily." said Arnemagne with amusement in his old voice.

"The Prince will know I am missing by now, and he will have his forces out looking for me!" she said, showing slight defiance. "You will be caught and killed for your treachery!"

"And the prince, in his infinite stupidity, will already be thinking you are trying to escape him. Do not consider him your rescuer. I am better suited to that title myself."

She realized with horror that he was right. The Prince of Manguria was well known for his cruelty.

"Surely he will beat me, then, and worse! Perhaps even torture me! You must help me, please!" she cried.

"It is a simple matter of trade. You give me what I want, and I will promise you that the Prince of Manguria shall never be able to harm you. Do we have an agreement, then?" Arnemagne said. The grin on his face spoke volumes.

"I... I... I suppose I have no choice," said the girl. "Please, be gentle with me..."

Arnemagne laughed cruelly, knowing he would do no such thing. From his robe, he produced the potent mixture of magical herbs and rare extracts that would allow him to fulfill the first part of his desires. Uncorking the small glass vessel, he quaffed it all in a single gulp.

* * * *

Arnemagne and the girl lay in a sweaty heap on a polar bear fur inside the summoning pentagram. She was sore almost everywhere, and especially between her legs. But she had given the mage what he had demanded, and in return she had earned his end of the bargain. 

She felt thoroughly awful. He had used her for his every whim without thought to how she felt, or if it hurt. This, however, was not too surprising, since it was fairly common in that time and place to treat women - even noble women- in such a manner. Gwendolyn, however, had never been treated even remotely so badly. She was of noble birth and came from a doting family. Remembering this, and knowing how her own family would respond when she returned, she began to cry for the third time, realizing that being protected from the Prince and King would not protect her from her father's anger.

Arnemagne got off her, giving her sore but perfect breasts one last cruel squeeze. 

"Do not wail so, wench! I have no need for your tears. They irritate me," he said. She tried to stop her tears, and only succeeded in replacing the sounds with involuntary snuffling. Arnemagne laughed at the ridiculousness of how it sounded.

"Get up, wench, and shut your trap! Here is a glass of wine. I will conjure a bath for you." he said.

Gwendolyn was confused. His actions alternated between apparent kindness and exceptional thoughtless cruelty. First he had kidnapped her, then he had promised her release in exchange for sex; next he had sexually abused her in almost every way possible, only to finally offer her a bath and a glass of wine!

She drank the wine, reveling in the wonderful contrast from the taste of what had been in her mouth not long before. As she set the empty glass down, she saw him make a peculiar motion while speaking a language that confused her ears. There before her appeared a crystalline tub filled with soapy water. When she approached it, she was amazed to discover that it was quite deliciously warm, as well! In her haste to hide herself in the bubbles, she slipped and fell in, hitting the back of her head as she did so. Pain burned through her skull for a moment, and she cried out.

"Get clean, whore. I wish you to be clean and sweet smelling before I finish my end of the bargain. And have a care with your body! I'll not have it damaged before I even get to enjoy it," said Arnemagne as he donned his robes. Then he sat down at the stone table and pulled out the leg bone scroll case, slipped it apart, and unrolled the scroll onto the table, enjoying the first afterglow he'd had in almost twenty years. While Gwendolyn bathed and nursed her sore head, he was busy copying the scroll into a book.

* * * *

When Gwendolyn had finished bathing, she was reluctant to reveal herself again to this man who had so humiliated her. She soaked there, wishing she could dress before she left the bubbles, crying softly to herself, and watched him write for a while. When he finished writing, he put the feather pen down and began mumbling to himself and tracing words in his book with a wrinkled old finger. This went on for a long time. Then he closed the book, slipped his right hand into a pocket of his robes, and grasped something in a bony fist before pulling it out. Distraught as she was, his behavior fascinated her, and she became very curious as to what was in his hand.

"I have something for you, my dear," he said with a strange sort of smile on his face. "Something very special. Very rare and expensive, too. You will likely never see the likes of such a wonder again." He opened his hand and out onto the book's leathern cover fell the biggest cut and polished white diamond she had ever seen. It was about twice the size of a robin's egg! She was transfixed as the jewel seemed to sparkle and shine with light that looked as if it came from within the stone itself.

What was this man doing?! Abduction, rape, now a bath and a huge diamond?

"Get out of the bath, child." he said irritably. She slunk down into it further, resisting his command. Arnemagne waved his hand irritably at her, and suddenly Gwendolyn found herself sitting on the cold stone floor again. The warm soapy water was gone, and the difference in the temperature made her shiver uncontrollably. No longer did she have suds to hide behind. She tried to cover herself as best she could.

"I have taken you in almost every manner possible, fool girl, and yet you seek to hide your nakedness from me still?" 

With a curt nod of his wrinkly head, her arms flew away from her chest and down to her sides as if someone had possessed them. When she attempted to bring them back up, she found that they would not respond.

"Come over here. Take this diamond. It will fulfill my end of our... bargain," he said with a sly smile. Suddenly she felt herself back in control of her arms, but she did not bring them up to cover herself.

"It will protect me from the Prince?" she asked, momentarily forgetting her shame.

"It will indeed. He will never be able to find you while you are in the protection of this diamond. He shall never be able to harm you. Take it. Take the diamond, girl." 

His manner gave away too much of his evil intentions. She hesitated. 

"Take it!" he screamed suddenly, frightening her terribly. She responded with acquiescence before thinking, and reached forward to grab the diamond. As her hand closed around it, the world began to flow and ripple and fade in strange ways, and her sight seemed to slide and lengthen sideways until it was merely awareness of light for a moment. When the odd effect stopped, she found herself floating inside that perfect diamond, looking out on the world through its many facets. She watched as her own hand slid away from the gem, and her body fell limply to the floor.

Arnemagne leaned forward to peer into the stone. His smile was devious and wicked and he seemed thrilled with this development.

"It makes the perfect prison, don't you think? And the Prince will have no way to find you there. You are safe, exactly as I promised, little girl. I have fulfilled my end of the bargain. And now, let me show you the fruition of my scheme," he said laughing as evilly as ant demon could. He stood up, and she watched as he chanted some strange thing and motioned in odd ways again. Then he placed a huge cut and polished emerald on the desk next to her diamond prison, and spoke a single word. She saw a pale mist flow from his body into the emerald, even as his aging body began to sway deleriously. She watched horrified as it aged rapidly, turning to dust and bones in a few moments, falling to the floor. The emerald shone, and she could see a bright light in the shape of a young man within it. 

Then the light reached out from the emerald as a sparkling mist and flowed down over the other side of the desk, until the emerald was empty and dark again. A moment later, Gwendolyn saw her body arise, unsteadily, from the floor. 

"I have done it!" her body cried out in joy. "I have done it! Ha ha ha! Thank you, wench. I will be sure to use this body well before I take another. I am certain it will be useful for its charms. And you, well, you can just remain safe and sound, right here on my shelf until I have further use for you." The body she knew as herself picked up the diamond in which she resided and placed it on a nearby shelf. 

"Ah, to be young again," said Gwendolyn's body, with a mixture of wistfulness and pleasure. "Only this time, youth shall not be wasted on the young!"



Arnold and Three Girls



The three girls were best friends, Jessica, Francess, and Heidi. They were spending the night at Jessica's house, and being normal 19 year olds the conversation turned to sex. They had been talking about all of the boys they desired, and Jessica could see that all three of them were squirming in some wet panties now. Heidi broke the ice though, as she usually did.

"Let's each of us tell about some sexual experience, and masturbate while we do it. I am so ready to come, if I even touch my clit I am going to explode," Heidi burst out. 

Jessica and Francess looked at her in surprise, but quickly agreed to the plan. Francess agreed to go first. Francess' nipples were erect on her enormous breasts as she started, "Well the story that I heard was one about Jessica's cousin, Arnold." Francess breathed as she rubbed her soaked pussy through the wet crotch of her panties. 

Jessica had closed her eyes, and was rubbing her fat extended nipples through the thin fabric of her nightgown, so it didn't register what Francess had said at first. Jessica's nipples were super sensitive, and she was close to coming.

Before Jessica could speak up Francess continued, "I heard that he can come six times in one night, and that his cock gets bigger as he comes. It gets to almost a foot long from what I hear."

"How thick does it get," Heidi moaned. She had wasted no time in peeling off her soaked panties and was aggressively rubbing her fat, erect clit with one hand while finger fucking with the other. Her long fingers were slick with her juice, and she was breathing heavily, close to orgasm.

"At least as thick as your wrist," Francess relied, as she reached inside her panties and found her own erect clit, and rubbed it between her fingers, shuddering at the sexual pleasure of it.

That comment took Heidi over the edge, and she brought herself to orgasm mashing her fat clit between her fingers, and shoving two of her long fingers in her cunt hole. She moaned loudly as she came, grunting "Fuck me harder with your big pole." Heidi could feel her nipples harden into two tight points on her full firm tits as she climaxed.

"My cousin is no big sex stud," Jessica said in disgust. "He couldn't get a girl to fuck him even if he did have some super dick. Where did you hear this crap Francess," Jessica asked?

"My brother was over at friends with Arnold and they got into the other guy's parent's home fuck flicks. Naturally being dweebs with out girlfriends they began to jack off. My brother said that Arnold came at least six times in an hour, and that his cock was huge by the time he got done. They got interrupted when the guy's mom came home, so my brother didn't get to ask him about it.," Francess responded.

Well I've never seen his butt ugly dick, but I guarantee you that he can't do that, he is home right now let's go see if he wants to prove it.," Jessica retorted. This idea got the other two girls attention at once, and they immediately quit muff diving.

The three girls agreed that Francess should ask Arnold first, as he was always gawking at her big tits. Her big nipples were erect and swollen with her lust and they poked out through the front of her white T-shirt. Her nipples were dark so they showed clearly through the front of her T-shirt and Francess knew that they would get Arnold's attention.

Arnold was in his room beating his meat. He had gone out to a movie with friends earlier, and was know beginning a jack off session. He had pulled out his favorite Playboy, the one with this red head girl with huge tits. Her pink aureole were huge, almost CD sized, and in the picture she was pulling on her fat nipples. Arnold had his cock in his hand and was pumping his cock. His cock was about five inches long erect, and shone with his pre-cum. He could feel his balls getting ready to spurt when suddenly there was a knock at the door.

Arnold had barely shoved his hard cock back into his shorts when Francess walked into the room. His cock almost spurted at the sight of the tits of his dreams covered by only the thinnest white T-shirt. Arnold could not tear his eyes away from her tits as she said, "I hoped you would like the show. I want you to jerk off for me, Heidi, and your cousin. My brother said you can come six times in an hour, and we want to see."

Arnold could not believe his ears, and he shook his head, "I couldn't do that. What do you think I am?"

"I think you're a dweeb with a five inch dick who can't come twice in an hour, said Jessica stepping into the doorway. Come on we don't need to see this little monkey jerk off.," Jessica said insultingly.

"I'll show you my tits if you jerk off for us," Francess said suddenly. Yeah, I bet you will just show me your tits. You guys just want to laugh at me. I don't think I feel like getting into your little sick game of jerking me around. I will survive without showing you guys my cock. Now would you guys just hit the road and leave me alone!

He turned his back on them and sat back down on his bed, picking up the fuck book he had been jacking off to. The girls looked at each other and shrugged. He said, "Are you guys going to get out of here? I'm busy." 

Jessica looked at him with disgust and said, "See I told you it was bullshit. He doesn't have anything special in the cock department. Let's go and leave the little dweeb alone to jerk off by himself."

The three girls headed back to Jessica's room. Jessica noticed that Francess and Heidi were kind of quiet. "What's up with you guys? Why are you acting all down?"

Francess answered, "All this talking about sex has made me horny as hell. I was looking forward to seeing a big cock, maybe even fucking a big cock."

"You guys want to fuck my cousin? That has to be one of the sickest ideas I have ever heard."

Francess moved her hands up to pinch her dark, erect nipples through the thin fabric of the t-shirt, moaning she answered Jessica, "I just want a cock, I don't care who it is attached to."

Heidi piped in at that point, "God I am so horny let's go back and see if we can convince him to do it for us. What guy could refuse to give us a good hard fuck?" As she said this she reached down inside her shorts and began to masturbate, her finger rubbing her erect clit, sliding up and down her slick, wet pussy. Her panties were soaked with her cunt juice, and Jessica could tell that Heidi was ready to climax again.

Francess looked at Jessica and said, "Come on let's go try him again, what do you say?" The three girls approach his room finding that the door is shut but not locked. As they enter the room, they catch him watching a porn flick. The three girls look at him with a devilish smile as they stand in the now open door. 

Arnold quickly fumbles around to find the remote control to shut the television off. While he is shutting the television off, Heidi locks the door. While Francess sits on one side of the bed and Heidi follows her at the other side of the bed. Arnold nervously stutters, "Didn't I told you to leave me alone."

Heidi says in a sarcastic tone, "Arny you have been bad little boy. You're locked up in this house with three innocent blossoming school girls, while you're raging hormones lust after there bodies. And poor little you have no choice but to watch a porn and jerk off to it."

Francess hands lightly brush along his body, and says, "I wondered what would happened if someone found out about these videos."

He quickly caves in "What do you want?"

Francess begins nibbling on his ear. While Heidi removes her pussy juice soaked panties, rests it over his face and moves toward his other ear. She then whispers, "Francess and I are very horny and don't care how we get screwed. We can either continue to watch this video before you screw us, you can spank us naughty little school girls, we can spank you or we could just fuck the shit out of each other. The choice is yours stud." Arnold looked at Heidi for a moment, weighing his options. A smile crept onto his face, and he said, "You can start by sucking me off, Heidi. I've jacked off a couple times to this video, so you've only got seven inches to worry about."

Heidi smirked at the mention of the rumor the girls had heard and said, "I want to see this amazing cock of yours. Does it really grow when you cum?" With that statement, she knelt at his feet. His pants were already unzipped and hastily pulled around his groin. Spreading his knees apart, she grabbed his pants and pulled them aside, revealing his moderate penis standing straight up. 

"You'll see soon enough," he said somewhat proudly. He extracted his organ from the opening of his boxer shorts and pulled his pants and underwear over his butt and down to his ankles.

Heidi grasped his cock and stroked it gently; it quivered as her fingers moved up and down on it. She leaned forward and licked him from his balls to the tip, and then surrounded the head with her mouth. As she applied a little suction, Arnold groaned, "Oh, yeah!" He could hardly believe this hot girl was sucking his dick. She leaned farther and took a few more inches past her lips. Her tongue started massaging the underside of his cock. She swallowed and lunged again, taking the rest of his length, her nose pressing into his pubic hair. As she drew back, he could see the sheen of moisture her mouth and tongue left behind. As she consumed all of him again, he marveled at sexiness of watching her mouth surround his cock and her cheeks sucking in to massage him. 

Very quickly, the sensations she was producing with her wonderful technique overwhelmed him; she definitely knew what she was doing. His eyes rolled back in his head and his back arched, and all he could say was "Coming!" in a guttural moan. Heidi kept bobbing up and down on his stiff rod as her mouth filled with his cum. Arnold's hips were bouncing up into her face as his body was wracked by convulsions. 

She could feel his cock swelling in her mouth as it spewed its slippery cargo. It finally stopped leaking fluid, and she took her mouth off it. She visibly swallow so he could see his cum go down her throat. Then she leaned over and kissed him hard on the lips, slipping her sperm-covered tongue into his mouth. He could taste his saltiness on her lips, and it aroused him greatly. 

She looked down and said, "My god, the rumors are true! Your cock *is* bigger! How much bigger does it get each time?" Her fingers caressed his nearly erect penis.

"About an inch. Wanna see how big it can get?" he asked with a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" yelled Francess from the other side of the bed. Arnold and Heidi both saw that she had three fingers in her cunt and her other hand was rubbing her clit. Her body shook the bed as she climaxed. Arnold repositioned himself so that he was facing Francess, who had reclined on the bed as her peak faded. His cock was still hard as he knelt between her legs, aligning the head with her dripping snatch. Francess reached up and caressed his chest and sides, saying, "I've got to have your cock inside me." Heidi began pinching her own nipple with one hand and playing with her mound with the other. 

He leaned down and kissed Francess hard on the lips, his tongue surging into her mouth at the same time as his now eight-inch cock thrust deep into her well-oiled cunt. They both groaned aloud at the massive sensations, and Francess' huge tits bounced vigorously on her chest from the impact of their bodies. He waited with his intruding member fully inside her, allowing her body to accommodate his size. Then he slowly began pumping in and out of her, her pussy so tight around his meat, and yet so lubricated as to make it easy to slide back and forth. Francess moaned and cried out her pleasure to the ceiling, and Arnold grunted like a rutting stag. The thick, musky smell of sex filled the room.

The slap of skin and the combined moans and cries of Francess and Arnold made Heidi wild with lust. As Arnold slowly pounded Francess' pussy, Heidi pushed two fingers into her aching liquid snatch and starting stroking and writhing. "Fuck her hard, Arnold. Give her that stiff cock of yours. I want to see you come inside her, but let her come first," she directed with enthusiasm. "Francess, it is beautiful to see him ravaging your luscious body." 

Her dirty talk enflamed Arnold's animal desire, and he thrust even harder into Francess' tight snatch. Francess was lost in the ecstasy Arnold's cock produced in her. Her eyes were tightly closed, and her body swayed to his rhythm. Wild moans and shrieks escaped her throat, some quiet, some loud. She could feel her climax building to the point of no return. After three more of Arnold's powerful strokes into her quivering cunt, her body convulsed in an enormous orgasm, her loud cries echoing in the room. Her pussy muscles spammed repeatedly, and her entire body shook with the force of it. "Oh my god!" she screamed, and her words ended in a high-pitched wail of pleasure.

Her pulsing cunt strongly squeezed Arnold's cock, and he lost all control, his body slamming forcefully into her groin. An animal roar thundered from deep within him; his engorged manhood erupted with his climax, spewing white-hot sperm deep inside Francess. The feeling of the jets of burning liquid within her triggered an even stronger response from her writhing body.

Heidi's fingers plunged into her pussy rapidly. Her eyes were riveted on the body of her friend being fucked hard by her other friend's brother. It was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. The sight of Arnold's eight inches sliding into Francess finally pushed her over the edge, and she too screamed her delight. 

At last, Arnold slowed his thrusting and stopped, his still-stiff cock buried in Francess' cunt. Francess could feel it quiver and expand inside her ravished body. She could feel it getting longer and thicker. This miraculous growth spawned other series of mini-climaxes. When she had recovered somewhat, she told Arnold, "It just got bigger! Let me see it."

Arnold slowly withdrew his penis from Francess' dripping pussy. It was noticeably thicker and longer, a full nine-inch monster and nearly two inches thick. Francess and Heidi both cooed over it, and then Heidi bent down and swallowed as much as she could, licking off Francess and Arnold's combined fluids. Her lips smacked when she pulled his cock out of her mouth. Arnold beamed down at their adoration of his member.

"So, who wants more?" Arnold asked sexily. Heidi replied, "I've had it in my mouth, so now I want it in my cunt. But first, let me see what you've got here, Francess." With that statement, Heidi bent down to Francess' groin and licked the fluid oozing out of her pussy. It tasted sweeter than Arnold's spunk alone, and Heidi looked forward to tasting just Francess. Heidi knelt on the bed between Francess' long, smooth legs and buried her mouth in the soaked, swollen mound before her. Francess groaned with delight, and her body quivered from the sexual stimulation. 

With Heidi's ass sticking up in the air near the edge of the bed, Arnold saw his opening. The bed was at just the right height for him to stand behind her. He spread his feet a little apart and grabbed her hips. He looked up from her lily-white buttocks to watch her devouring Francess' clit; Francess shrieked loudly. Arnold adjusted his nine-inches between her ass cheeks and ran it through the outside of her pussy lips. When the tip ground across her clit, Heidi screamed into Francess' bush, vibrating it wildly. Francess screamed again.

"God, lick that twat! Suck my clit, Heidi. Your tongue feels so good!" Francess exclaimed. Her hands stroked Heidi's hair, occasionally pushing her head down into her own desperate, quivering cunt.

Arnold fit the thick knob of his cock at Heidi's clit and pushed just hard enough for it to pop inside. Another moan of pleasure came from Heidi. "Ready or not, here I go!" he shouted lustfully. He pulled back hard on Heidi's hips and thrust forward with his cock; he drove all nine inches into her jungle-wet pussy. Heidi stopped licking Francess for a second to yell the loudest of anyone so far.

"Oh, yeah! Fill me with that monster!" she shouted. She shoved her body back into Arnold to deepen his already deep penetration. Heidi then resumed her licking and sucking of Francess' oozing clit. Francess moaned heavily and gyrated wildly.

Arnold quickly withdrew all but the head from Heidi's cunt, and just as quickly stroked back into her, starting off on a fast rhythm. Her pussy was very tight on his large member, but it slid well with copious amounts of lubrication. He knew he really had some time to ream Heidi, having just come inside Francess. She certainly seemed to be loving it, so he kept up his rapid thrusting.

Francess was off in the stratosphere from Heidi's talented tongue and lips on her clit and pussy. Her groin received the tremors delivered each time Arnold slammed into Heidi, propelling her closer toward her climax. She could not control the feral noises emanating from her throat. Her fingers twisted and pinched her nipples hard, sending electric shocks throughout her body, though especially to her cunt. She came back from nirvana just long enough to say between gasps, "Suck it ... unh ... lick it ... unh ... bite it ... unh ... oh, my god ... unh ... shit!" She convulsed when Arnold slammed into Heidi just as Heidi nipped Francess' clit with her teeth. A wave of orgasmic pleasure spread like a wildfire from her splashing pussy to all parts of her sweating body. Her thighs closed around Heidi's head, gently squeezing it in time with the waves of her climax.

Heidi could not believe how good Arnold's huge cock felt pounding into her sex. The intense pleasure was enhanced by the twinge of pain every time he hit her cervix. She applied everything she knew to going down on Francess. She sucked her clit while strumming her tongue across its tip; she wiggled her tongue into Francess' cunt and thrust in and out of it; she nibbled and licked her swollen lips. Francess was definitely enjoying her technique. And Heidi was herself enjoying the pummeling she was getting; Heidi's cunt was a blast furnace from the stretching and friction of the enormous piston of Arnold's cock. He was big enough and thrusting hard enough that her clit rubbed hard on his stiffness. She suddenly exploded in a series of orgasms that just kept coming one after the other. She groaned her delight into Francess' nether realm.

Arnold's eyes had rolled up in his head after seeing these two gorgeous, sexy creatures climax. Sweat poured from his body because of the fast pace he set; every stroke he drilled into Heidi's cunt drove him closer to coming. The pulsing of her muscles around his penis made it impossible for him to stop. The tingle of impending eruption rose from the trunk of his tree, and an animal roar filled his lungs.

Arnold managed to open his eyes and almost lost his erection when he saw his cousin, Jessica, standing in the doorway, twisting her nipples through her thin nightshirt. Her face had a mixed look of both shock and ecstasy. The sight of his sister tweaking herself snapped something in his head. He thrust all the way into Heidi, and his cock sprayed his spunk deep into her cunt and womb. The two girls also convulsed in orgasms, and seeing the three of them coming pushed Jessica over the top as well. His cousin's scream was the loudest of them all. The echoing cries died away, the four people just panting and moaned after their climaxes. Then Heidi cried out again as Arnold's amazing cock shuddered and enlarged within her. Then Francess and Heidi looked toward Jessica, drawn by her outburst. Arnold's gaze had never left Jessica's body and face.

Jessica saw them looking at her with various stages of surprise and lust in their eyes. She gulped visibly and said, "I woke up to someone screaming, and I came down to see what was happening." As she kept pinching one nipple, her other hand moved down to rub her clit. Arnold withdrew his weapon from between Heidi's legs. It was now fully ten inches long with a peach-sized knot at the end; it had not wilted in the slightest. Jessica seemed riveted by it, her eyes never wavering from its pulsing length. 




Arnold and Three Girls



Arnold walked toward her. Secret desires for his cousin that he had even kept hidden from himself boiled to the surface of his lust-filled mind. In a few steps he stood before her, a blazing fire in his eyes. She had a mixture of animal lust and a little fear in her appearance, as she continued caressing her body. He leaned forward and gently grabbed her; a yelp and a whimper escaped from Jessica's lips. Her tongue seductively licked her lips, as she looked into Arnold's lustful stare with some trepidation. He brushed his mouth across hers and sucked one of her lips into his inviting mouth. Something seemed to melt in Jessica, and she locked her arms around Arnold's neck, returning the kiss enthusiastically. Arnold's enormous cock drilled into her mighty-covered belly. 

Francess and Heidi looked on the scene and couldn't help but be aroused by it. Seeing Arnold seduce Jessica was incredibly hot. As they watched, Francess reached over and caressed Heidi's breast. Heidi turned to look at Francess with a surprised look and saw Francess looking at her with boiling lava in her eyes. Heidi reached for Francess' breasts as well, and they fell on the bed in twined in each other's bodies.

Arnold's hands roamed freely across Jessica's chest; he pinched her nipples hard through the thin material. A deep moan filled her mouth and vibrated his lips. He grasped the nightshirt and pulled it over Jessica's head, breaking the lip lock. Jessica's fingers clamped around his huge member and stroked up and down the shaft. She had no panties on under the pussy. Arnold stepped closer, causing Jessica to back up into the wall. He pinned her to the wall with his hands pushing on her full tits. Sue reflexively spread her legs apart and thrust her hips away from the wall, inviting Arnold to her awaiting pussy. Arnold clasped his cock with one hand while the other hand caressed Jessica's breast. He leaned in to kiss her and rubbed the head of his cock up and down her cunt-slit. She moaned into his mouth and her tongue darted feverishly into and out of his mouth, approximating a penis with its movements. She flexed her pelvis and helped slide her cunt lips up and down his steel shaft. The pressure on her clit from the enormous mushroom head had her enthralled and nearly climaxing.

She broke the kiss and leaned to Arnold's ear, whispering breathlessly "Fuck me, Arnold, but go slow. I've never had a cock that big before." With that said, she moved her hips to put his dick head at her cunt opening. 

With his hands on her hips now, Arnold pulled slightly on her body, and the large head squeezed into Jessica's tight pussy. "You'll never go back to smaller cocks," he bragged into her ear. He started rocking his body back and forth, bumping Jessica's pelvis against the wall. Each time she hit, his cock slide another inch into her gushing clit. She cried out with pleasure after the fourth impact, and her pussy clenched on Arnold's solid member. As he continued to drill his meat into her, her climax intensified with every slam into the wall. Finally, he reached the end of his pole, and his groin ground into her mound. Jessica had been continually orgasm since she began, and now wrapped her legs around Arnold's torso, holding him tightly to her body. He waited, completely buried in her tunnel, for her body to stretch to accommodate his length and girth. While he waited, she quivered sinuously, utterly consumed by her climax. In no time, she was pumping up and down, moving only a few inches. Her juices had his cock well-greased, and so he started to thrust. 

Her screams of ecstasy filled the room; never had she been stretched so far and stimulated so much. Her orgasms came back to back, blending into one long earth shattering climax. When his lips found her nipple and sucked hard on it, she screamed even louder, and her body writhed around him. "Fuck me faster, Arnold, stick it in my cunt," she pleaded. 

With that command, he stroked faster into her little body. After many more thrusts, he felt the first tingle of his impending orgasm, so he whispered to her, "I'm going to come soon. Can I come inside you?"

Her mind flooded with pleasure, she yelled, "Just don't stop! Aaaah! Aaaaaah! God!" She was pushing back at him with just as much force as he slammed into her. Their bodies blended into a sensuous blur of motion. 

His balls were now pumping his seed down his tube, and he plowed into Jessica's cunt even harder than before. He roared like a lion, thrashing his head around in his animalistic release. Finally, his penis erupted in a deluge of sperm, and Arnold held his member inside her as far as it would go. His sperm pumped directly into her womb, as his cock had penetrated her cervix. Her pussy muscles squeezed hard on him, milking every last drop from his genitals. 

At last, Arnold stopped spurting, but Jessica kept coming. Even when he wasn't moving, his cock's size stretched her cunt far enough to stimulate her nerves. The quivering she then felt was more than she had felt before. His fantastic penis was growing again, impaled inside her. It felt like the top of her head exploded, and she scream some more.

Arnold withdrew his now eleven-inch tool from his cousin's sweaty, writhing body. Her climax lasted until he popped the head out of her slit. She was delirious with pleasure. He kissed her, gently lowered her to the floor and turned around. What he saw on the bed brought a smile to his face and a surge to his cock. Heidi and Francess were wrapped in a beautiful 69 position, with Francess on top and Heidi underneath. They were happily lapping away at each other's clits. He loved the way their tits jiggled, Francess' hanging down and Heidi's squashed by gravity against her chest. As he watched, Heidi moaned and clamped her thighs around Francess' head. Arnold walked over to the bed, behind Francess' jiggling ass, which was perfectly positioned at just the right height. Heidi's thighs still gently squeezed Francess' head as she climaxed. He slipped his enormous tool between Francess' ass cheeks and thrust it into her dripping twat. Francess' scream was muffled by Heidi's groin and thighs, but her body surged back into Arnold's body, completely impaling her on his thick cock. 

Arnold slowly started to pull back and then stroked forward into Francess burning cunt. He kept up a slow rhythm. Suddenly he felt one of his balls slurped into Heidi's mouth, as it had been hanging over her. He put his hands on Frances' shoulders to give him a better grip, and simply fucked her hard, yanking her body toward his in time with his thrusts. He felt his other ball swallowed by Heidi, and the stimulation urged him onward. He noticed that Heidi had stopped clenching around Francess' head, and Francess was just sitting there, lost in the pleasure of being utterly filled and stretched by Arnold's eleven-inch rod.

The next thing Arnold felt was a pair of hands come from behind him to caress his chest. He looked back as he reamed Francess' cunt to see his cousin smiling at him while she tweaked his nipples. He felt her lithe body rubbing against his back, her modest tits poking him with their sharp nipples. In a few more thrusts into Francess had her yelling and orgasm. 

"Yes! Yes! Fuck! God! Aaah! Shit! Aaah! Yes! God!" was all she could say. Arnold felt her cunt squeeze tight around his meat and his hands felt her body quivering uncontrollably, but his recent explosions kept him from coming. He continued to stroke into her through her orgasm until she slumped on the bed. Heidi managed to roll out from under her, as Arnold's cock slipped from Francess' soaked, swollen pussy. Heidi nudged Francess to the top of the bed and turned her over. Then she arranged herself in the same position Francess had just been in, ass pointing at Arnold's wicked member.

"Take my ass, Arnold. Tear my body apart with your monster cock!" she yelled. Arnold's eyebrows raised at this invitation, he'd never known anyone who could take his cock in the ass when it was this huge. His penis was slick with Francess' juices, but Heidi's rosebud needed additional lubrication. He ran his hand through Heidi's slit, gathering a large amount of her own juices. He slathered them around her asterisk of an anus and then put a finger on the star. He pushed slowly, waiting for her muscles to relax. Heidi sighed and suddenly his finger slipped into her asshole. He pushed it in and out a few times before putting another digit along with the first. All this time, Jessica was behind him, and now kneeling behind him, stroking his magnificent cock. 

After a few more strokes which stretched Heidi's opening, Arnold fit three and then four fingers into it. By now, Heidi was screaming somewhat from pain, but definitely form pleasure as well. Once her sphincter relaxed to allow his fingers to slide back and forth, he prepared to plug that hole with his large stick. He quickly pulled his fingers from Heidi and just as quickly placed his big cock head in the gaping opening. The muscles of her ass squeezed down around his cock, just behind the head.

He didn't want to really hurt her, so he very slowly pushed into her nether region. First another inch, then two, then four. He kept sliding in and out of her, pushing a little farther on each thrust forward. Her screams continued and increased in intensity. Her rosebud was so tightly clamped around his cock that progress was very slow. But the tightness also kept him very stimulated. Arnold noticed that Jessica was no longer behind him, and he looked around to see what she was up to. He saw her up by Francess, licking at her red, weeping cunt slit. This got him more excited, and he pushed a little harder each stroke into Heidi. Soon he was pumping nine or ten inches of his meat into her rectum. Heidi was obviously having a tremendous orgasm, for her screams had reached a pitch of ecstasy and her body shook with the power of it. Arnold felt her muscles pinching his cock, but still managed to maintain without coming. Every time he moved in or out of Heidi, she screamed even louder.

Then Heidi too slumped to the bed, totally spent with the pleasure of it all. Her anus relaxed and let Arnold slip from her body. Arnold watched mesmerized as the widened opening very slowly shrank until it was about the size of his finger. It refused to close more than that. Heidi's breathing was heavy and ragged, her eyes closed in rapture.

Arnold moved around behind Jessica this time. The another chance to fuck his cousin might not ever materialize, so he wanted to make sure he got her while she still wanted him. As he got to her, Francess cried out yet again as she climaxed from Jessica's ministrations. Her perfect ass waggled in front of him, and he ran his hands over it with relish. He slide his tree trunk between her legs and through her slit, bumping her clit several times. She moaned into Francess' cunt. Arnold grabbed her hips for leverage and pushed his cock into her molten pussy. She was still tight even after the fucking he'd given her just ten minutes ago, but she was so wet and his cock so lubricated with juices from all three of them that he entered her cunt with ease.

He pounded her sex at a furious rate, because after fucking the other two, he desperately needed to come again. She stopped licking Francess out and just concentrated on the sensations in her groin. Francess shifted around so that her head was under Jessica, and she sucked hard on Jessica's nipple and pinched the other one hard. Jessica shouted, "Fuck, yes! Fuck my cunt, Arnold. Fill me with your heavenly cock and spunk! Suck that nipple, Francess! Bite it!" Then she screamed louder as Francess complied with her request, and her body shook with another intense orgasm.

Arnold was flying back and forth through his cousin's pussy as it clenched and squeezed his meat. His cock virtually hummed with sensation. He lost of thought of going slow or any semblance of control. His lungs puffed and sucked necessary air, sounding like a steam engine. The slap of his and Jessica's thighs echoed around the room. He let out a feral growl as he felt his balls tightening, and he harshly grabbed her shoulders to slam her body even harder into his pulsing, throbbing penis. 

Finally a light exploded in his head at the same time as his cock erupted inside his cousin. Blast after blast of his hot white lava flooded Jessica's cunt and womb. His body was wracked by convulsions as he continued to pound her pussy and pumped huge amounts of cum into her. Sweat poured out of his body like rain was falling on him. 

Jessica kept climaxing over and over while he fucked her, her screams silenced into breathless rasps. She could feel his sex juice filling her up, but she didn't care at this point that she had no protection from her cousin's sperm. No thoughts that complicated could penetrate the frenzied haze of her orgasm. 

At last, Arnold was the one to slump on top of Jessica, squashing into the bed. Francess got out quickly, before the dead weight of Jessica's cousin pinned her. Jessica slowly recovered and awaited the surge of Arnold cock enlarging inside of her cunt, where it was still held tight. The enlargement never came, and Arnold's member slipped from her cavity. His sperm oozed from her slit and dripped onto the bed. Jessica rolled him off of her with effort, and he lay on his back, eyes closed tight, breathing slowly returning to normal. She realized that he was sound asleep. 

The three girls looked at Arnold's groin to get one last look at the monster cock that had given them such immense pleasure. The stiffness flowed out of it as they watched, and it shrank visibly, until it was back to its original five-inch length. They all sighed together, sorry to see their mighty conqueror brought low again. Each one of them had visions in her mind of what she would do to get that thing inside them again. Even Jessica contemplated what it would take to make Arnold fuck her again.

They rearranged Arnold in his bed and covered him with his sheet and blanket. He snored as they turned to leave, shutting off the light as they exited the room. They all looked back one last time to gaze at his sleeping form in the moonlight coming through the window. They all thought of him so differently than they had before. 



Arnold Augustus Cabot College



You're relived when the car finally comes to a stop. You've spent the last three hours in the backseat of cab that's been driving on some very windy mountain road. You feel nauseous when you step out of the car. When you manage to pull yourself together you take look around. You see a grey sky, green mountains, tall fir trees, perfectly manicured Kentucky blue grass and the gothic looking campus of Arnold Augustus Cabot College.

The cab drives off and you pick up your bags. You swipe ayour student issued key card through a scanner located at the main entrance and the college's imposing wrought iron main gates slowly open for you. The first thing you see when you step onto the campus grounds is a large grey granite boulder with a bronze map of the campus attached to it. The next thing you do is walk over to the Dean Of Students' office.

The Dean Of Students' office is located in the college's main office building. It is a large brick Queen Anne style building located in the center of the campus. When you open the buildings heavy oak doors you see a long hallway with checkered marble floors, a red English runner rug, Georgian style paneling, red flocked velvet wallpaper on the walls, brass art nouveau wall lamps, oak baroque paneling on the ceiling and speakers hidden behind plastic Boston ferns in brass Italian vases pumping out Romantic era German classical music. While your walking through the building you also notice that all of the staff is female.

The Dean Of Students' office would look like it had came out of Agatha Christie novel if it wasn't for the Computer sitting on top of Dean Of Students' secretary's desk. The Dean Of Students' secretary is a five foot three, one hundred and thirty-five pound, twenty two year old bubbly Filipina with long silky black hair, copper skin, a round face, big dark brown almond eyes, chipmunk cheeks, a pug nose, full lips, a small chin, a juicy curvy body, size 36D pear shaped breasts, a round soft belly, a big perky bottom and a pair of thick shapely legs. She is wearing pearl earrings, a short pearl necklace, a white short-sleeved ruffle blouse, a black pencil skirt and pair of shiny black patent leather stiletto pumps. The nameplate on her desk has "Emiliana Marcos" written on it.

"Hi. I missed orientation because of a death in the family and the woman in the student services office I spoke to on the phone said that I was to report directly to the Dean Of Students' office when I arrived on campus."

"Give me your key card."

You hand Emiliana the key card and she swipes it through a scanner connected to her computer. She looks surprised when she sees your information come up on the monitor. Emiliana then hands you back your key card.

"I'm going to need to see some photo id now."

You hand her your driver's license. Emiliana looks at it and then hands it back to you. Then she picks up the phone on her desk and tells the Dean Of Students that there is a student who missed orientation who is waiting to see her. When Emiliana gets off the phone she tells you that Dean Of Students will see you now.

The Dean Of Students name is Georgina Rockwell. She is a five foot five, one hundred and fourteen pound, fourty-three year old stern looking WASP from Bloomington, Indiana who has wavy light auburn hair down up in a loose bun, a deep bronze tan, a oval face, a pair of deep set indigo eyes, a straight nose, thin lips, a heart shaped chin, a thin tight body, size 34C orange shaped breasts, a tight flat stomach, a small tight bottom and a pair of long sculpted legs. Georgina is wearing a pair of GI glasses, small black pearl studs in her ears, a black army style skirt suit, a white dress shirt, a red silk tie, beige panty hose, and a pair of black puppy heels. 

"I heard you could not attend orientation due to a death in your family."

"Yes my paternal grandfather died of a heart attack two weeks ago."

"That is unfortunate. Your grandfather was a very wealthy and generous man who helped raise millions of dollars for this institution. In fact your grandfather's wishes are the only reason why you are enrolled at Arnold Augustus Cabot College right now. You are the only public high school graduate who has ever attended this institution. I am sure that you know that Arnold Augustus Cabot College is the most exclusive men's college in the United States and all of the students who are enrolled here right now have graduated from some of the top prep schools in the country. Normally to gain admittance a student needs to be a legacy or have letters of recommendation from three graduates. Now we here at Arnold Augustus Cabot College are not snobs but we do believe that public school students do not have the discipline and education necessary to complete this college's rigid academic and athletic curriculum. We here at Arnold Augustus Cabot College also believe that public school graduates do not have the self-control that would allow them to comply with this college's strict rules. Now if you do manage to graduate you will be able to get your master's degree at the Ivy League school of your choice. Also here at Arnold Augustus Cabot College academic and athletic achievement is not rewarded with good grades alone. If you do good in this school you will be rewarded with extra phone calls home, you will be able to go on off campus trips, you be allowed to access to "special" areas of the campus and you will have sexual privileges with the campus staff."

"What?"

"While Arnold Augustus Cabot was working on Wall St. he observed that his worst employees were either young and sexually inexperienced or old and sexually frustrated. He also noticed that most of his employees frequented brothels on a regular basis These observations led Arnold Cabot to believe that sex is the driving force behind all of mankind's achievements. So when he founded this college he hired some prostitutes and set up an on campus brothel. The way the system worked was that good grades would be rewarded with sex. This system lasted for fifteen years until Arnold Cabot discovered that male members of the campus staff were having more sex with the prostitutes then the students. So he fired the prostitutes and all of the male staff and came up with a new system. The first thing he did was to acquire an all female staff. Then he came up with a sexual merit system. The system works like this F and -D average students do not get any sexual privileges. D average students will be able to have privileges with the staff in the dormitory building they are staying at. C average students are able to have sexual privileges with all dormitory, custodial, maintenance and kitchen staff. B average students will get sexual privileges with all dormitory, custodial, maintenance, kitchen, security and teaching staff. A average students will be able to have sexual privileges with all dormitory, custodial, maintenance, kitchen, security, teaching, athletic, and administrative staff and if you manage to make it to on honor roll lets just say that your in for a surprise. Now all sexual encounters must be made by appointment at the Pleasure Department inside the Venus building. However some members of the staff do give out sexual favors in return for winning academic or athletic competitions or for completing certain tasks that they might assign you. Now do you have any other questions that you want to ask me?"

"No."

"Good. Pick up your and go over to the Eustace Priest Dormitory Building. Your dorm mother will show you to your room."

You say goodbye and walk over to the Eustace Priest Dormitory. It's a four story first wave Chicago school style brick building located on the far north east side of campus with the other dorm buildings.

The first thing you see when you open the building's front door is your dorm mother. She is a five foot one, one hundred ninety-six pound, fifty-year old Utahan who has long straight sunflower blonde hair, ruddy skin, an oblong face, a pair of dark blue eyes, crows feet, a bulbous nose, sagging cheeks, a double chin and a big fat sagging body. She is wearing variscite earrings, a silver puffed heart necklace, a white v-neck stretch cotton cardigan a long denim jumper dress, white ankle socks and a pair of black rubber work clogs.

"Hello there. I'm Mrs. Jeffs and I'll be your dorm mother. Now if you follow me I can show you up to your room. "

You follow Mrs. Jeffs up to the second floor. Your room number is 213. When you open the door you see a big single occupant dorm room that has a private bathroom, a small closet oak floors, a big red Edwardian rug, a steam radiator, dark green damask wallpaper, a queen size bed with a brass art-nouveau headboard, a oak Chippendale dresser with an internet radio sitting on top of it, a green leather swivel chair, and a oak pedestal desk with a brand new flat screen computer sitting on top of it. 

"It's five thirty serving dinner in the mess hall right now so why don't go down to the mess hall and get something to eat. I'm sure your hungry after the long ride you had up here. When you get back from dinner I'm going to have questionnaire for you that I'm going to need you to answer for me. So when dinner is over I'll be waiting here for you okay."

You nod your head and head over to the mess hall. The mess hall is a long grey stone collegiate gothic style located in the north part of the campus. When you get in their serving turkey breast gravy and roasted vegetables. When you sit down you look around you. Your fellow classmates are an assortment of preppy scumbags, overachieving assholes, narcissistic nerds, snobby pricks and spoiled meatheads. Their the type of people you hated I high school. Looking at this collection of dicks you can understand why your father rebelled against your grandfather by going to a state college, getting a job in the public sector and sending his son to public schools. Its going to be you against the world this time but at least it will be better then the jockocracy you lived under back in high school. This time it looks like your going to be getting laid.

When dinner is over you head back to your dorm room and open the door you see Mrs. Jeffs is sitting on your swivel chair. You notice that she has a clipboard and a pen her hand.

"Sit down on the bed. I have a few questions I have to ask you now."

"Did you read the student rule book yet?"

"No. I couldn't make it to orientation due to a death in my family so I didn't get one."

"I'll get you a copy of the rule book tomorrow morning. It's very important that you learn the rules around here. The rules here are very strict and it's very easy to get expelled. The important rules to remember is that you can't have any drugs, alcohol, tobacco, internet, video games, girlfriends, unauthorized sexual encounters, and unauthorized phone calls. Also you can't gamble, cheat plagiarize or leave campus without permission but the most important rule to know is that you do not talk about what happens on campus with anyone who has never attended Arnold Augustus Cabot College. If you do break that rule there will be some very serious consequences. Now do you understand the rules?"

"Yes."

"Good." Mrs. Jeffs checks off a box on the questionnaire and asks you another question.

"Do you belong to any churches or any religious groups?"

"No."

"Do you belong to any clubs, organizations, or orders?"

"No."

"I hear you went to public schools."

"Yes I did."

"I've worked here for fifteen years and you're the only public school student that I've ever heard of being enrolled here. I used to teach kindergarten at a public school in a small town in Utah and I also taught Sunday school at the local LDS temple until some recruiters from Arnold Augustus Cabot College showed up at my front door and gave me a job offer that I couldn't refuse."

"Oh."

"Yes. Now a lot of boys find the next question to be embarrassing so prepare your self."

"Okay."

"Are you a virgin?"

You hesitate for a little bit but eventually you say yes.

Mrs. Jeffs puts the clipboard down on your desk and says, "Well then lets just take care of that now."

Mrs. Jeffs stands up, takes off her cardigan, pulls off her denim jumper dress and kicks off her rubber clogs.

"We here at Arnold Augustus College believe that young man cannot reach full emotional and intellectual maturity until he has lost his virginity. It is also preferable that a student should lose his virginity before classes begin. Now I know your probably feeling tense right now so I want you to take a deep breath and relax okay."

You never thought you'd end up loosing your virginity to a five foot one, one hundred ninety-six pound, fifty year old Mormon kindergarten teacher with ruddy skin, long straight sunflower blonde hair, a kind motherly face, flabby arms, size 42DD flat empty breasts, pink nipples, a large sagging stomach, a plump vagina, grey pubic hair, a large sagging behind, cottage cheese thighs, thick chunky legs and small feet but then again the world is full of surprises.

"Now I'm gonna turn on some soothing music to help you relax and then I'm going to help you take your clothes off okay." 

Mrs. Jeffs waddles over to your radio and turns on a Native American music station. Peaceful, soothing, gentle sounding Navajo flute music comes out of the radio's speakers. Mrs. Jeffs then walks back to you and kneels down in front of you. She starts untying your shoes. When she's done untying your shoes she slowly takes them off your feet, pulls of your socks, unbuckles your belt, untucks your dress shirt, unbuttons your cuffs, unties your necktie, unbuttons your shirt, pulls your shirt off your arms, unbuttons your pants, unzips your fly and pulls your pants off. Then she grabs the waistband of your boxer shorts and looks up at you. 

"Now don't be shy. I've seen hundreds of penises in my lifetime." Mrs. Jeffs slowly pulls off your boxers. When you look down you see that you're half hard. "There, there you have nothing to be ashamed of. It's not small. It's the average size for boy your age." Then she holds the head of your penis in her hand and starts rubbing your frenular delta. When your fully erect Mrs. Jeffs stops messaging your penis and stands up. 

Mrs. Jeffs walks over to the head of your bed. You stand up and watch her. She lies down on your bed and spreads her legs. You get a good look at Mrs. Jeffs' hairy wrinkled pussy and gaping anus. You're starting to feel a little apprehensive. Mrs. Jeffs sees the apprehension on your face and gives you a big warm non-threatening kindergarten teacher smile and says in her gentle kindergarten teacher voice "Don't be shy now. Come down here and hold me." You kneel down onto the bed and lie down on top of her big, warm, soft, fat, flabby body. She smells like lilac body spray and you can hear her breathing gently. You lie motionless on top of Mrs. Jeffs until she says; "Okay its time to stick your penis inside of me now. Come on now. Don't be scared. Trust me, your going to enjoy this." You do what she says and you insert your hard prick into Mrs. Jeffs' hairy wet vagina. You're in classic missionary position now. Your inexperienced so your thrusts are hard and fast. Mrs. Jeffs starts moaning. She also starts to sweat profusely. Your thrusts gradually become faster and harder. Mrs. Jeffs is starts to grown. You start to feel the pressure building up in the tip of your penis. You stop thrusting and your penis shoots your semen deep inside of Mrs. Jeffs' uterus. When your done cumming you pull out and collapse on top of Mrs. Jeffs'. Mrs. Jeffs is breathing heavily now but you can't tell if you made her to orgasm. So you ask her,

"How did I do?"

"Oh don't worry about that dear. It's your first time. You'll get better at it eventually."

You roll off of her and onto your back. Mrs. Jeffs gets off the bed and slowly starts putting her cloths back on. Her hair is disheveled and she's still sweating a lot. When Mrs. Jeffs is done getting dressed she says, 

"I'm going now honey. I'll make sure you get a copy of the rulebook tomorrow and if you ever want to talk to me about something just knock on my door okay.

"Okay."

"Good night now."

"Good night."

When Mrs. Jeffs leaves the room and closes the door behind you get up and turn on a bebop station on the radio. Then you take a long hot shower. You didn't expect that your first time would be anything like this but it wasn't bad. You had a good time. Then you start to think about Tuesday and you start to feel anxious. Classes begin on Tuesday and you have five hard classes that day. And your classmates are a bunch of assholes. It's still better then High School though. At least your getting laid this time around.



Arnold, Janet and Bettie



ONE

Janet needed passport sized photos. She was nearly broke again; her housecleaning jobs were poor paying and infrequent, and the guru kept pressing--oh, so spiritually--for larger and larger contributions to the ashram. Now applying for a new job--any job--she was finding that all the agencies required voluminous resumés and documentation, including photographs. It was l980, and the California economy was in a slump.

She picked the nearest photo shop from the yellow pages--a small shop in the nearby half empty mall. Inside there were no customers in the neatly maintained but somehow forlorn store. The young man behind the counter brightened; he was gangly, with thinning blonde hair and a broad smile, eager as a puppy for any sort of customer.

"How can I help you? A camera? Film?"

"I just need some ID photos--six, I guess." Janet smiled. "passport size, the agency said. Black and white, I suppose--nothing too expensive."

"Sure thing; right away. But color is just as cheap; I'd recommend it. Just step back here, please." His blue eyed gaze was intense--too intense. A bit over the top for such a mundane transaction, Janet thought.

She was used to male approval, ranging from covert glances to frank leers; at 40 she was still proud of her figure, and dressed accordingly, even a bit blatantly when away from the ashram. Her perky patterned silk dress was short and a bit tight. But still--this guy was making her just a bit uneasy. * He led her to a curtained alcove at the back of the shop and positioned her on a stool facing a bank of cameras and lights. "There's a mirror. Would you like to--uh--freshen up, or maybe comb your hair? I think you'll take a terrific picture!" he said.

A mirror? What the hell, why not? Never hurts to look your best. Janet looked at her face, frowned prettily and searched her purse for her compact and comb. The clerk hovered, now frankly staring.

"If you don't mind--this will just take a second." Janet said.

"I'm sorry. It's just that you look like--never mind. Take your time--please!" With a nervous smile, he ducked behind the flimsy curtain.

Janet found herself a bit flustered as she checked her makeup, freshened her lipstick, and perched on the stool. The photographer talked her through the simple routine: turn your head a bit, lift your chin, smile-- click!--one more now--click! He paused, running his fingers through his hair, awkwardly. "Miss--uh, I don't know your name--I'm Arnold. Miss, have you ever, you know, done any modeling?"

Here it comes, Janet thought. The old come-on. Art poses, that's what they usually called them. Well, we'll cut this short right now. "My name is Janet. I did a little modeling once but that was--many years ago. And I'm really not interested in any...."

"No, no--don't misunderstand me. Look, let me take a few more shots--with my good cameras. Free--for nothing! You've got an exceptional presence and face! Please! Indulge me!"

Janet's vanity, her guru kept telling her, was one of her many stubborn attributes. Another large pothole on the karmic path. This young guy seemed harmless enough, though--just intense. "I've just a few minutes--oh, all right." she said with what she hoped was a prim smile.

Arnold busied himself with his lights: the filtered spots, the back light, and he was soon crouched behind his view camera, directing Janet. "Turn to your left! Now look at me. Now smile--that's it! Now arch your back a bit. Deep breath--turn right--now cross your legs. Yes!"

Janet sensed that they were way beyond passport photos. "OK, enough, that's it, Mr.--Allen, was it? No, Arnold. Just give me my passport photos, and l'll be out of here!" Janet slid off the stool.

"Right. They're Polaroids; I'll have them for you in a second. Six pictures. Five ninety nine, plus tax." He gulped, hesitated. They were standing rather close in the small booth, Arnold seemed to be blocking the door. He ran his fingers through his hair again, distracted. "Look. This is crazy, but--just bear with me. Have you ever heard of Bettie Page?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Let's just get those pictures, OK?" Janet brushed past him but he stopped with a gentle hand to her shoulder.

"Three minutes of your time, OK? You look so much like Bettie Page that it's creepy--or how she would have looked ten or fifteen years after she--disappeared."

He was so intense, so earnest, that Janet paused. Her radar was pretty good; this guy seemed to pose no sexual threat, and she was now more than a bit curious. Arnold continued:

"Back in the 50's and 60's, Bettie Page was the preeminent pin up model: girlie magazines, one reel films, still photos, some B and D--what she did, basically, was dance around in her black underwear and high heeled shoes..." He halted his fervid spiel, registering Janet's frown. "No. wait. It was mostly mild stuff, not even soft core by today's standards, but she was so lovely, so sexy, and had such a sweet innocent quality."

Janet cut him off, but gently. "Mr. -uh-Arnold. I don't want to intrude on your obsession, but what can an over the hill dancer have to do with me? Why are you telling me all this?"

Arnold blushed. "Guilty. I may be obsessed, but let me bring you up to date. Bettie Page has a cult following now. All the old, scratchy black and white films are a hot item. There's Bettie fan magazines. The heroine in the comic book Rocketeer is really her. She's a really hot property! Any Bettie Page trivia: outtakes, photos, old pirated film clips , whatever--they're huge! Now get this! She disappeared, dropped out of sight, about 20 years ago! No more films, no more pictures--poof! all gone!"

Janet interrupted his manic flow: "So you think I look like this--Bettie. I still don't see..."

"What if Bettie had made more films? Maybe ten, fifteen years later? What if someone came up with the 'lost Bettie Page episodes'? That person--or persons--would be rich overnight! I guarantee it!"

"Just a second--do you think that I..." Janet backed away and found herself sitting on the posing stool again; Arnold in his excitement was holding both her wrists. 

"Yes! You! Exactly! I'm just winging it now, but if you and I were to make some films--videos, these days--and market them as the long lost Betties-- I'm brainstorming now, but--wow!" He faltered. "Of course, I'm not sure you could capture her --specialness. You've got a great body, but your hair is wrong--and you're older, of course. Ahh, it was probably a dumb idea. Sorry. Sorry. I apologize for wasting your time." He released her wrists.

Janet's mind was racing. What would the guru say? There was the low bank balance and piddling dead end jobs. Rich overnight, he'd said. And : 'great body', but also 'older, of course', 'couldn't capture her specialness' . Who says? She was strangely excited, and challenged, too. 

"Arnold. This is all pretty weird. But just for the hell of it, before I go, can I see--do you have any pictures of this--magical lady?"

Arnold beamed. "Have I! Just everything she's ever done, that's all! Come on in back, this won't take long!"

It took over an hour. Far from being bored, Janet found herself increasingly excited as the story unfolded: the first short films, the silk stocking, high- heel fetish shots, the lingerie dance sequences, then the Irving Klaw bondage materiel; kinkier now, with Bettie mugging as a slightly delighted victim, exulting as the dominatrix, tying up the other models in their dowdy 50's underwear. 

Stills, too: some sensuous nude shots, some blatantly sexy, the jungle stuff, the lovely beach shots by Bunny Yeager; Janet found herself responding, then enthralled by the sweet sexual energy of this woman--never mind the lousy production values and frumpy lingerie. And the few nude shots--somehow they drew her right in.

*

Arnold turned off the last film clip; Klaw's sister had just done a severe bondage number on Bettie, who remained--perky. There was heavy silence in the musty back projection room. Arnold turned up the lights and leaned forward . His intense gaze bored into Janet's eyes. "Well?"

"She's--she's --she was--very special, all right. But I--our faces are similar, aren't they? But my --chest is bigger, and my hips--no, I don't think 

it would work." Janet was surprised to find her voice shaking.

"C'mon! ten, fifteen years later--you look just right! Hey! you feel it! I can tell!" He had gripped her wrists again, his gaze never leaving hers.

Janet was really flustered now. Somehow this fanatic, this--nerd--is reading me, she thought. I just came in for some crummy photos, and now--she tried to ignore the swirl of images racing through her brain: lacy bras, bikini panties, garter belts, not that old fashioned stuff--and the bondage! the ropes, the leather! Janet's own bondage fantasies, tucked away in past memories she was trying to repress, were strong, she knew. What kind of delicious situations could she...?

Arnold was decisive now, sensing her tacit agreement. "OK, I want you to get the wig, with the bangs, and the costumes; I'll pay for them, of course, and pay you too! And we'll need to see if you photograph as good as you look; if you're really Bettie--but I already know you are. And then we'll go for it! Both of us!"

"I--I really have to think this over. I can't really promise you anything. My spiritual advisor--" Even as she stammered , Janet felt a rising excitement. This crazy young man, this impossible--well, a long shot, but what if it worked--scheme--ah, hell, she really wanted to do it. Especially that bondage stuff!

Arnold was still talking, excited. "I'll give you the name of some specialty stores and one costume shop I use--five inch heels, sexy underwear, leather stuff, and the wig. For drag queens, mostly, exactly what we want. Here's my credit card--bill it to the store. Let's do our first shoot in --oh, two days. Sunday afternoon, OK? I'm closed then."

"You don't know anything about me--I could just walk out of here with your credit card--but I won't. Let me give you my address and phone. I--like I said, I need to think about this. Oh, I love her, though! Naughty Bettie!"

Arnold beamed. "Janet, this feels like the brass ring on the merry-go-round and we've just grabbed it! Too much!" His impulsive hug was 

surprisingly strong. Janet kissed him on the cheek and returned the hug.

The bell in the front of the shop rang.

"Ah shit, a customer. Here's the card and the store addresses. Sunday noon, OK?"

Janet wandered out of the little store, slightly numb. She was halfway home when she realized that she had forgotten the passport photos, which now seemed supremely unimportant. Well, she could pick them up on Sunday...scenes of bondage and whipping and delicious predicaments spun through her head . Bettie Page!

TWO

Sunday noon. The shabby mall was half deserted, many of the struggling shoe stores and other shops closed. Nervous, and almost giddy with anticipation, Janet smoothed the flimsy silk skirt over her hips and knocked on the door of the camera shop. The sign in the window read 'Closed'.

Arnold opened the door, gaped, and stumbled back into a display case, scattering disposable cameras. "Bettie! I mean--Janet! Holy Christ-you're a knockout! Come in, come in! I was afraid you might not...whoa! you look great!"

Janet bobbed in a mocking curtsy and flashed her widest Bettie smile. "Why thank you sir. I guess I pass the test?"

She wore the long brunette wig with the bangs, of course. And makeup suggesting the 60's--bright lipstick, fake eyelashes and penciled brows. Her white cotton blouse had puffy sleeves and a deep scooped neckline. Her 

flaring little white silk skirt topped gartered dark silk stockings above shiny high heeled patent leather pumps. She had cinched the soft wide black leather belt down to 25 inches or so to look more Bettie-like; she could hardly breathe. She twirled and postured with her hands on her hips. "Well, big boy--like what you see?"

Arnold was still trying to collect himself. "You--you--you're her!I'm too blown away to even be horny! Well. that's not quite true." he glanced down at the bulge in his jeans. "You are perfect! Bettie--forgive me, Bettie, Janet, wherever you are--and sexier than the original! Look. I've gotta get some film right now, before you turn into a frog, before I wake up or something. Just walk, move like you did when you came in--Oh yeah--yeah!" Arnold was already filming with his video camera.

Janet flounced and pranced a bit more, then turned, bent and flipped her skirt at the camera, revealing a flash of white thigh and garters above the dark seamed hose. Arnold groaned again and moved in for a low angle shot. Janet peered saucily over her shoulder and wiggled her bottom in response .

"These shoes are so tricky--I can hardly stand!" Janet continued her enticing prance. "But I loved that leather place you sent me to. The saleslady--I think she was a lady--was wonderful , especially with the lingerie." She flashed the wide half 'gee whiz' half sexy Bettie smile as she spoke. "Let me show you the lingerie. I mean you can't be sure if I'm right until you see all of me, can you?"

Arnold was sweating now, stammering, His voice broke. "L-lady, what are you doing? I feel like -Dustin Hoffman with Anne Bancroft, for Chrissakes! Back off a second! Whoosh!"

Janet smiled--her own smile this time. "OK, i was teasing you. sorry-- just a little bit. I can't help it! I just love this character! It's like reincarnation, or something. Like I'm channeling her. It's reallly powerful! The minute I put on the wig, these clothes, I knew. OOh, I could just hug you!"

Arnold did a nervous little skip backwards. Janet stopped her 

undulating hips for a moment. And said; "Sorry , Arnold. That Bettie's a real tease, isn't she? I'm really going to have to watch that she doesn't--take over. Let's keep this on a business level--just Janet and Arnold--and Bettie."

This lady is definitely a space case, Arnold thought. but--god, she's gorgeous--and coming on to me? Go with the flow , he thought. "Business. Yeah, we can do business, soon as I figure out which messages you are sending me. You know what a turn-on you are, just cut me a little slack, So we can work. So, let's work now; I've got a set in the back room, and a kind of script idea. Let's do a pilot film, Okay?"

Back room? Watch out! Janet kicked herself mentally and flashed back to the last encounter with the off-duty policeman and his handcuffs--wasn't he just 23?--and how badly that had turned out. This Arnold is a sweet kid, she admonished herself, Let's not screw this up. But I want to give him a chance. Let's keep Bettie under control--but, oh! that will be hard! She smiled at Arnold. "Right. let's go to work. Fame and fortune await."

He had set up a tacky living room; a couch with a floral pattern, a tired armchair, a coffee table with a cheap portable radio, circa 1960. John F Kennedy's picture was on the wall, and there was a framed full length mirror.

"Looks period enough, right? I was going to shoot with old film so this would look like someone found it in his attic 20 years later, but no need; everything is transferred to video tape anyway, we'll just shoot it that way. Two lights, kind of an amateur look. OK, here's my script idea: You come in the door, like you're coming home from--a hard day's work. You relax, stretch, turn on the radio, dance around a little, fix your stockings--uh--undress, a little bit; it's up to you, look in the mirror, all those Bettie things. There's a knock at the door; it's like a delivery boy; he hands in this fancy box. You open it, its a gorgeous negligee. You register delight, hold it up, model it, dance some more. That's probably it. I think we'll shoot this first one silent, but for the music, I think it should be a slow, sultry tempo. just you and your new nightie." Arnold paused. "Sorry to be so gabby. Does that sound all right?"

Janet smiled. "I think i can get ol' Bettie to do that--I think she'll do just fine!"

They got set. Arnold had his handheld and tripod cameras ready, adjusted his lights. "OK, filming, Come on in, Bettie. Give 'em hell!"

Janet /Bettie came through the door. She put her purse on the coffee table and stretched luxuriously, catlike. She preened briefly in front of the mirror, twisting her torso and throwing out her chest, caressing her breasts lightly. She turned again,then undid her constricting belt. She frowned briefly at the image of her soft little belly in the mirror, then slowly unbuttoned and shrugged off her blouse. She wore a delicate black lace bra with just enough subtle underwiring to push her generous breasts up and together; her cleavage was deep, voluptuous; her big salmon-tan nipples, slightly erect now, nudged the lacy fabric of her sheer bra.

"Ah shit" Arnold moaned softly, now zooming gradually as Janet toyed with her breasts. Now she unzipped her tiny skirt and stepped out of it. Her garter belt was four wisps of fabric and elastic holding up her black silk stockings. Her panties were even tinier; lace again, with a diminutive black satin crotch panel. She turned and thrust her slowly undulating ass at the camera; her bikini panties were a mere thong in back. She caressed her plump cheeks, then, looking again in the mirror gave her bottom a little swat of disapproval.

 *

Arnold realized he had missed his cue; His mouth was dry and his erection almost painful. He quickly stepped around the set and knocked on the door. Bettie answered the door, hands coyly shielding her breasts and crotch as she accepted the gift wrapped box. She opened it and registered delight; inside was a sheer smoky grey peignoir. She inspected it at arms length, the clutched it to her gleefully and danced around the room. in front of the mirror again, she slipped it on, modeling the sheer robe and caressing herself. 

Arnold had plugged a cassette into his portable box; the music was Stan Getz and Joao Gilberto playing a slow bossa nova. Bettie was now moving to this tempo, twirling languorously before the mirror. Then, still dancing, undulating her hips and pelvis, she let the negligee slide down from 

her shoulders. She reached behind her and unhooked her brassiere, dropping it on the floor. She shrugged back into the sheer robe and faced the camera, the filmy nylon cradling her breasts, emphasizing rather than hiding their loveliness. The Brazilian beat continued. Back to the camera again, she smiled dreamily over her shoulder and stepped out of her panties.

Arnold had gone past lust to shock and surprised delight and back to lust again; now he was trying to concentrate on his camera angles--low angle closeups, augmenting the big video camera on the tripod. Janet swayed to the bossa nova beat, nude under the diaphanous negligee. She danced wildly, sensuously, for minutes. Now she lay back on the couch. Glowing with perspiration, she sprawled in the armchair, her forehead and chest shiny with sweat, her nipples engorged. (one pink tipped breast had escaped from the flimsy robe). Her long legs were apart, her dark moist bush available to the moving camera. At rest, soft lips ajar, eyes half closed, she embodied sensual satiety. *

Arnold scarcely could breathe as he pulled back for a long lingering shot of her vulnerable nude beauty.

The record stopped. Janet blinked, wrapped the gauzy robe around her and sat up. "Was that OK? I mean, Bettie really took over, you know. I kind of zoned out; I do that sometimes. Do we need any retakes? I-I'm not quite sure what all I did. " She looked down at her gleaming body. "Oh! Look at me! I must have gotten my self naked! Did I?? I really don't quite remember every little thing I did--Oh dear,,,"

Arnold felt a little chill. Weirdness again. This was a very strange lady. He answered carefully: "Janet, that was great. I'm sure we don't need any retakes. You did indeed get naked, in a magnificent fashion. You were probably way over the line--more Bettie than Bettie ever was--just fantastic. But. But, if you don't remember quite what you did, if you were possessed by the spirit of Bettie or whatever, I can't take advantage of you. Why don't I edit the two tapes--it'll take half an hour--and show you the playback. If its too raw, or revealing, or whatever, that's it. No deals, no contracts, no distribution. But I've got to have a copy for myself, to play when I'm an old man and can't get it up."




Arnold, Janet and Bettie



Janet made a face. "That sexy, huh? pornographic, would you say?"

"Oh yes--definitely smutty--but just wonderful. You'll see."

"Now I am going to hug you. You're a sweetie. Arnold. I know you'd never take advantage of me." She came into his arms. He held her, feeling every curve; the filmy robe was nothing; she was essentially nude. His erection was back, of course. No need to fantasize what she was rubbing against him now; he'd memorized her furry cunt from behind the lens. "Arnold, you're a sweetie" she murmured again onto his neck; in her heels she was almost his height. Her lush, damp body plastered against him.

He shivered and reluctantly pulled his hands away from her ass. "Hold it! Now hold it a second! Janet, you scare the shit out of me, and that's a fact. i don't know anything about you, why a woman like you would want to--I'm just 28!" He stepped back half a step; her arms were still twined around his neck. "Now why did I tell you that?"

Janet blinked once,twice, much less Bettie now. She stared into his 

eyes a long time, then sighed. She touched his cheek tenderly. "I don't plan to rape you, Arnold. I was too much in character--a character not that different from my own. I am a sensual woman, and I've not always been a prudent one. And I'm not 28, I'm-uh-37. And I'm not ashamed at being sexually attracted to you. But as you say, that can wait. Let's be businesslike again--at least for a while. Go edit that film, so I can see me making a fool out of myself. I think I had better get dressed." She wrapped the robe around her with a prim and totally futile gesture; the near transparent nylon was as enticing as stark nudity. She droped the flimsy robe, turned her back and struck one more provoctive pose. Arnold was totally smitten. *

THREE

Janet didn't shower, though she would have liked to; she was still damp and glowing from her frenzied dance, but the camera shop had no shower. 

So she redressed--slowly, in her provocative Bettie outfit; garter belt, black hose, white blouse and skirt, and, yes, the tight black leather belt. She walked aimlessly through the store, too excited, too impatient, to sit quietly and await the results of her debut. Finally--it seemed only a few minutes--Arnold stuck his head out of the darkroom.

"Bettie! I mean, Janet!--whatever! This is just a rough cut, but you've got to see this! Come on in!"

They viewed the tape in silence; from the first seductive undressing to the delivery of the peignoir to Bettie's uninhibited and increasingly wild dance the tape was absolutely compelling; Arnold's side lighting and skillful closeups enhanced the sexual power of Bettie's dance. The monitor went dark; they both sat, silent for a long minute.

"Janet, that's the best thing I ever did! And I didn't do anything--I just shot--you! You are absolutely sensational!" He paused. "I'm being selfish, here. That's you, up there on the screen. And it's --pretty explicit, pretty raw, isn't it? So what do you want me to edit out?"

Janet,too, was shaken. She had no idea she could look that good--so sensual, so downright sexy. This had started as a kind of lark, a bit of defiance of the ashram's strict regime, but, suddenly, she was Bettie and Bettie was her, and--God knows where this could lead!

"Edit out! Nothing! That's me, that's Bettie Page. She's gorgeous, I'm 

gorgeous, that's what you wanted, isn't it? " She was excited, turned on.

"Wow! I was really good, wasn't I? Ooh, Arnold, you must be the world's best photographer, to make my tired old bod look like that! Ooh, I have to hug you!" And she did.

"Oh God! Ummm! Please--just a second!" He put his hands on her shoulders and gently moved out of her embrace. He ran his hand through his hair again, sighed, and faced her. 

"Look. Janet. Not Bettie for right now, OK? First of all, take off that goddamn wig, so I know who you are. Thanks. Now, we need to talk. Now, I'll admit it, I was kind of fooling around; sexy older lady, looks like Bettie, what the hell, shoot a little tape, you know? But this--this is the real thing! The dream I've had for years! So now I've got to calm down and talk about the nuts and bolts of this project. Cut me some slack, here, I'm trying hard not to be as excited and horny as that tape made me."

Arnold explained how he would send the tape to his friend, Sid, in LA. Duplicates would be made, the video would be packaged for legitimate video outlets and also a few marginal and downright porno ones; In ten days or so there'd be feed back on the sales and possible, no, probable, demand for more films. Janet should get a contract, maybe a lawyer: For now, he'd give her 500 dollars for today's work--just a screen test, after all--and a thousand for each later film , and 50% of all our profits and maybe...

"Arnold, shut up! I can use a few bucks, but I trust you on this business stuff; that's not what tonight is about, and you know it! Let's go out! Let's celebrate!"

"Sorry. You're right, of course. This mall is pretty pitiful, but there's a great little Thai place two doors down--how about it?"

"Sounds great! I'm famished!" Janet took his arm, snuggled against him as he locked up the store. His boyishness, his energy and mood changes were endearing, she thought; his skittishness and flight from her sexual advances were endearing, and challenging. Ah well, plenty of time. He was so cute, a bit skinny, but tall and good looking, a bit awkward--sexually naive, she guessed. Such fun to teach! And fun to tease in the meantime.

After the meal: satay, green papaya salad, and some strange but wonderful noodle and shrimp dish, plus two bottles of wine, Arnold proposed a toast, beaming, just a little drunk: "To all the Betties! Old Bettie, legendary Bettie, and now, Super Bettie, the sexiest, the loveliest of all!"

"Why, thank you, Sir. I'll drink to that! Arnold, drive me home. I want to offer you a nightcap--at the very least." She smiled enticingly, licking her lips as she did so.

Arnold stumbled out of the restaurant after her; his head was giddy with equal parts of elation and terror and wine. He was going to--fuck her! This weirdo! This goddess! Could he get it up? Silly question; his erection was already painfully hard. But--could he--satisfy her--what if...? They drove in silence the half mile to Janet's modest apartment; she, humming the bossa nova tune under her breath, her left hand just grazing his thigh; he, white-knuckled at the wheel.

They walked up the half flight of stairs, his arm around her waist, tentatively caressing her bottom. At her apartment, she stopped and frowned; there was a pale lavender envelope half tucked under the door. She stooped to retrieve it, paused. She shuddered, then opened the envelope and read the message inside by the hallway light. And sighed again.

"What is it? What's going on?" Something had happened, Arnold was sure of that. Janet's seductive mood had been turned off like a light switch.

"Arnold. This note is from my guru. She warns me of the perils of temporal fame and fortune. And also, sexual attraction to a young stranger-and my own vanity."

"C'mon! that's fortune teller stuff! Janet-my magical Janet--you can't believe...."

"Arnold. She knows. She does. I need to --deal with this. Take a day or two to decide in which direction I'll go. But--oh!" she closes to Arnold and gently hugs him. "Oh--this has nothing to do with what we created today! And what we will create again. I'm sure of that! And--I still want you. I know it will happen, but--not tonight. Now go, sweet Arnold. Before I get more confused. Go!"

Arnold drove home in a daze, almost hitting a shabby derelict pushing his stolen shopping cart into an intersection. He nodded meekly in apology as the bearded man shook his fist. On automatic pilot, he parked his seven year old Ford, climbed the stairs to his apartment, and turned on the coffee maker, almost forgetting to add water to rerun through this morning's grounds.

He turned on the TV, then clicked it off. And sat, trying to sort out his chaotic emotions. Janet! Holy Christ, what a woman! Was she really coming on to me? Hell, yes, she was. And that that letter--so weird! Is she some kind of religious nut? Or just--crazy! So watch out! But--I can't believe that dance--gorgeous--her tits, her ass, her pussy--those long legs--Bettie, Bettie, my jackoff stalwart for all these years--Janet's got you beat--unh! I'm hard again!

FOUR

Two days later, Arnold felt lousy. He knew he'd been curt with customers, abrupt with his sweet young assistant, Stacy. At first, he tried to blame it on the screwed-up invoice from Fuji, but he knew that was a cop-out. It was Janet. After that unsettling 'good`night' brushoff (what had been in that letter?), he had been mopey, bewildered, short-tempered. He had Fed-Ex'd the video to Sid the next morning; by nightfall, Sid's exuberant return call confirmed his first wild estimate of Janet's tape, but somehow, didn't lift his mood. Would she come back? Would she call? On the second day, he couldn't call her; he didn't even know her last name. He'd driven by her apartment, feeling furtive and a bit foolish, snuck up to the directory: no name. He had almost rung the bell, but was too--proud, or something--and drove away.

"Wow, Arnold, You're so grumpy these last few days--a real asshole! Pardon me, but..." Stacy, his assistant, finally confronted him. If you got past the 'bikers rule' t-shirt, the baggy shorts, orange sneakers, and bizarre hair-do--multiple pigtails in her blonde locks--she was lovely; California tanned and toned, and, as Arnold knew, bright and sensitive, too. He wondered, on occasion, why she bothered to work for him, though she was quickly learning the photo business.

"Stacy, You're right. I apologize. I--I've got a lot on my mind; personal stuff. I'm sorry." So--where was Janet?

Janet had gone through painful changes in the last three days. The morning after her glorious high following the Bettie screening--and the low that followed when she read the guru's note--she had appeared at the ashram, wearing her simple long white dress, asking for an audience. A young man--a new member, one she didn't know, coolly told her to wait, then twenty minutes later, he returned to inform her that she could not be seen today. "But do your meditations, recite your mantra--perhaps in a week or so.."

"Shit!" Janet muttered, and bowed her way out. A profoundly unspiritual utterance, she realized. And at the same time realized how constricting, how confining, the ashram --and even the devotional practices--had become. Three years earlier, strung out from her failed marriage, this had been a real haven--and still was. But she was stronger now, she suddenly saw, able to stand on her own two feet, make her own mistakes and--and even go for it! And go for it--that meant Bettie Page! She should have called Arnold, but for some reason held off. She did her meditation--distractedly--and finally saw that she was--reluctant, no, afraid, to continue the episode that had started so well. Go for it-don't be chickenshit! she told herself. And late in the afternoon, called the camera store.

"Arnold, it's me. Janet." she said when he answered the phone. "I'd like to come in to --you know-- talk about our future projects. About Bettie, If that's OK. Tonight. After you close."

"Whoooah!" He threw his arms up in glee; Stacy did an open-mouthed take. "Yes! Let's do it! " He said. "Right now! Where have you been?"

"Personal stuff, improving, it looks like. See you tonight, Arnold--good luck!" Stacy couldn't overhear the call, but she could read Arnold's mood. She grinned.

"Good night. And--hey, Stacy, thanks for putting up with my foul mood. See you. Allright!" He did a little triumphant little war dance as he locked up.

Twenty minutes later Janet--no, Bettie-- knocked and entered, in wig and full fifties makeup, wearing a raincoat over a sheer baby doll *

nightie. "Bettie's back" she cooed demurely,then opened her coat and flashed for a few seconds. "I think it's time we got back to work. And maybe not just remakes of those fifties films; we're supposed to be filming in the seventies, right? After Viet Nam. after hippies, after rock and roll. you know--nudity in Golden Gate park, LSD, grass for everyone--I mean, we can be more permissive --sexier-- I've given this a lot of serious thought in the last few days, and i think that Bettie's about to get just a little bit X-rated. What do you think?" She dropped her coat and posed.

 "Just a second. You don't call, you drop out of sight, I'm going nuts, and now suddenly you're coming on like Cecil B. DeMille. It's my film, my idea, my Bettie, if you don't mind, even though it's your tits and ass, I admit. Now just calm down, and we'll decide--together--what we'll shoot next, OK? That nightie's gotta be a great start, though."

"You're absolutely right, Arnold! I --just came on too strong. First, I'm committed to you and Bettie, all the way. Second like you said, you're the boss. I'll be your--slave! Well, maybe not quite!" She wiggled deliciously. "But here's my idea for tonight. The cat burglar and his delectable victim: big time bondage. I've brought a bunch of rope and a ski mask for you to wear".

"Hey! Now wait a second! I'm a photographer, not an actor, remember? I don't think I can..."

"Of course you can! You come in, you're rifling the apartment, I blunder in, you grab me, tie me up, gag me, maybe fool around a little bit. Mainly, you're filming me all tied up and struggling with the ropes, all that Irving Klaw stuff. I know you'd love to--subdue me, be masterful--don't even give me an argument on this, Arnold. You know you want to do it!"

She was right, of course--Arnold was already excited. "Uh. well, maybe just this once. And the fewer people who know about these Bettie rip-offs the better, of course. But just this once. And if it doesn't work out...but if we're serious, we gotta have sound; give me a few minutes to set up a mike; i think if there's any dialogue, we can wing it. I don't intend to say anything; you can moan and protest, if you like."

"It will work. I know it!" She twirled, coquettishly, now in nothing but the sheer nightie and high heels. "Ooh! It's a mean burglar! Please don't tie me up!"

"Now stop kidding around. OK, I'll try. Give me that ski mask and stuff. Now I've got to set up the lights and camera. Quick, before I change my mind. This is crazy!" Still protesting, but secretly excited, he set up a side light, accentuating 'nighttime' shadows, rigged his tripod steady camera. He took a deep breath, then stepped into the set. "OK, let's go!" He had also turned on the microphone, though no dialogue had been planned.

As the scene opens, Arnold is ransacking Bettie's living room. The door opens; Bettie, sheer nightie back lit, enters from her bedroom and reacts with a scream; Arnold whirls and grabs her shoulders, twirls her and puts one hand over her mouth. 

"Shut up, bitch!" he rasps. Bettie began to struggle and kick; Arnold feels the intensity and strength of her resistance; she was not acting anymore. His adrenaline surged as he wrestled her to the couch, pulled a bandana from his back pocket and roughly gagged her. At the same time, Janet was secretly thrilled--God --he's so strong!--and resisted even more fiercely. He pushed her face down on the couch and twisted her wrists behind her back and tied them tightly with a length of clothesline from his other pocket, not without difficulty; she struggled, bucked, kicked; he finally captured her ankles and tied them together as well. She twisted on the couch and glared at him, sputtering behind her gag. "Just lie still, honey, and I'll be out of here in no time." He returned to her desk drawers. "No jewelry here; I'll just check your bedroom."  * 

He goes out the door; Bettie rolls off the couch and shuffles on her knees to the phone on the end table; she knocks it onto the floor and is trying to dial, lying on her side, fumbling with her fingers, when Arnold reenters.

"Goddamn it! I told you not to move! Now you're going to get it, bitch!" They were both beyond acting now; Janet struggled furiously as Arnold reached for more ropes; many more ropes. He tied her wrists and arms in an intricate, almost Japanese bondage. and looped several turns of rope over her gag. 'Ouch! This was really tight!' she winced. He stood and gloated over his handiwork. Her nipples were erect as she struggled. He tried to ignore his erection as he continued to film, now taking close ups as she struggled, furious and afraid. Finally he stepped back into fixed camera range and resumed his role as cruel bondage freak. * Now he dragged her across his lap. holding her down with one hand as he began to spank her. Her flimsy nightie was already no factor; one shoulder strap pulled down, both breasts exposed, her bare bottom bisected by the cruel ropework; he rucked her nightgown above her waist as he pulled her roughly over his lap, squeezed her jutting cheeks, caressed them briefly, and began to punish her squirming ass, an irrestible target. . *

Bettie squealed through her gag, fought and twisted, to no avail. His heavy hand rained down, stroke after stroke. (The meaty sounds of his brutal spanking, it turned out, were the most memorable aspects of the sound track). Bettie's muffled whimpers and cries of rage continued as he methodically blistered her bottom; pink, then deeper red, then almost magenta as he completed his definitive spanking.

Arnold took a deep breath, then another, and pretended to be a professional photographer again, but he knew he was far from finished with the emotional turmoil he'd just experienced--that scary, lovely rush he'd felt while dominating and spanking Janet. He pretended otherwise.

"Bettie, I'm going to do the hand held closeups now; I want to zoom in on those knots and your luscious rosy ass--OK?" He tried to sound like a bored professional, but his voice quavered. The rope and bandana gag was still surprisingly effective; Arnold pretended he didn't hear her muffled "You bastard! turn me loose! Now! Oww! " as he spanked her vigorously until her ass was flaming red again, filmed leisurely, panning her voluptuous bound body, her bruised gagged lips, her eyes bright with tears of pain and fury; she was magnificent. Finally he backed away for a closing shot, faded to black, and sat for a long moment, not quite sure what to do next. In Janet, he knew he had a tiger by the tail--a very angry, roughly fucked-over tiger--and he didn't quite know where this was going.

He finally knelt beside her, awkwardly. He kissed her lips, undid the gag, and tried to kiss her again before she could speak.

She jerked away. "You--you crummy bastard! How could you? How dare you!" He held her and stroked her as she raged, unsure of himself. He untied her legs and eased the cinch digging into her crotch. She sighed with relief as she stretched her legs, rolled on her back and then howled once more as she put weight on her tender bottom.

"Bondage is trust! It's supposed to be mutual! What kind of script was that, you monster? Turn me loose! Now!"

He continued to hold her, caress her, even as her tirade continued. He was strangely exited at his mastery over this sexual goddess. He gently lifted her to her feet, holding her close. Her wrists were still roped behind her, but she seemed to be less angry, struggling less in his arms. He 

kissed again; she tried to bite his lip, and then let her head rest on his shoulder, sobbing quietly.

He untied her wrists and stood there awaiting her--finally freed--reaction. Janet stepped back, glared once more, and slapped him, hard.

"Take you best shot. I deserve it." Arnold caught her eyes. She raised her arm again, but the slap never came. Suddenly she was in his arms again, now returning his caresses, still sobbing. His brain was in a complete jumble; his penis was not.




Arnold, Janet and Bettie



Janet felt him harden against her belly and moaned, hugging him tighter. Arnold clawed open his fly as Janet sank to her knees, elbows on the couch as she offered her rosy buttocks and the moist cleft between them. Arnold knelt and penetrated her warm wetness from behind.

"Be gentle--my ass is so tender, you brute" Janet murmured; Arnold didn't hear her, lost in his thrusting, giddily spiraling to a quick climax. She moved to match his strokes, and moments later, to her surprise, she found herself throbbing and melting; she moaned hoarsely, whipping her head from side to side, Bettie wig slipping to the floor, caught up in a series of powerful orgasms.

Arnold had exploded deep in her cunt at the same moment. The whole act had lasted only five or six minutes; both were shaken and silent as they held each other. 

Arnold cleared his throat several times, realized he had no idea what to say, and wisely kept his mouth shut.

Janet glanced over her shoulder, nude, moist, posing coquettishly, and spoke softly: "You sneaky bastard. You're really into S and M, aren't you? Maybe you didn't know it. And just because I wanted to fuck you and I loved it--doesn't mean I completely forgive you for blistering my ass--and its not just because I'm turned on by all that humiliation and pain and --Oh . hell, we need to talk about this stuff later. I'm going to take you home and feed you, my very special kinky cameraman; we need to keep your strength up." .

* Janet unlocked her apartment door and turned on the overhead light, muted with a large Japanese paper lantern. Arnold had gotten but a glimpse on his one prior visit, before the guru's letter had changed everything. Now he took in the simple furniture, the futons, the frayed oriental rug, the brick and board bookcases. On the walls, funny looking posters--Hindu? oriental?--he wasn't sure. A shrine, or altar, maybe, with candles and incense sticks at the feet of a six armed statue was at one end of the room. it was weird, Arnold thought, but somehow comfortable.

"Sit down, love--I'll just be a minute." Janet waved him into one of the low backless chairs and disappeared behind a beaded curtain. Moments later she reappeared in a pale green silk robe, belted at the waist, holding two glasses and a jug of inexpensive white wine. She sat next to him and smiled into his eyes. Her grin broadened and then she laughed as she reached for and held his hands.

"You should see your face! Arnold, my dear young stud, you don't know what to make of me, do you? You haven't a clue!"

"I--uh--I--" Arnold realized that she was right and shut up one more time. "As far as you were concerned, I was Bettie Page, OK? Your sexual fantasy in the flesh. Suddenly here I am, a bit mature, perhaps, but lush, lovely, fuckable, ready for bondage, spanking, anything! What a good sport! Right?" She leaned towards him, still amused, but intense.

"Yeah. Right." Arnold had found his voice. "You have knocked my universe on its ass in the last few days, if that's what you want to hear. When you didn't call, when I thought I'd never see you again--and then tonight--Omigod! My--my heart is in your hands--and I know that no one talks like that--but Bettie, I mean Janet, if you're just messing with my head, tell me now!"

Janet leaned closer and brushed her lips against his. Her robe fell open. "Arnold, you are so sweet. That's no put down. I love it. I--love you, I think. But maybe only as Bettie. You are Dr. Frankenstein and I'm your sexy monster. I'm messing with my own head now, don't you see? Playing this delicious role. I-- do that sort of thing. I have a history of getting over involved in fantasies; I'll tell you all about it sometime. i haven't led a very--careful--life."

"Right now, I don't care; I really don't. I just want to--" he cradled her breasts, softly protruding from her opened robe. She withdrew gently, let her robe slip to the floor and posed seductively, glancing over her shoulder. *

She was breathtakingly beautiful. She knew it, and knew that he was hopelessly stricken. He didn't care. He was in love. Janet knew all this; she affected casualness. 

"Let's have a little wine and then I'll heat up some leftover cassoulet, and then--we're in no hurry now, dear--and Janet--and maybe Bettie--have such delicious plans for you!" 

The white bean duck and sausage casserole, tasty as it was, was scarcely touched, as was the wine. In bed, Arnold was overwhelmed. She was as passionate, as avid for torrid, sweaty sex as he was, but also gentle and languorous, and then, minutes later, a tigress again. He tried to memorize, to catalog his bliss, but knew it was hopeless even as she reached for him again. It was hours before they both finally slept.

FIVE

Arnold awoke, confused. The sun was shining through the window on the wrong side. Then he realized he was not in his own bed, but Janet's. He smelled her--and both of them --on the sheets, and smiled blissfully as he recalled his memorable night. He also smelled fresh coffee.

Janet--or maybe Bettie--flounced through the bedroom doorway. Frilly little silk robe, high heels--in the morning?--and, Oh God--that wig. "Breakfast? coffee, tea, or me? Lahk they say." She was starting to mimic Bettie's Carolina drawl.

"Janet--i know you're Janet--how could I not after last night--take off that Goddam wig. Coffee first, yes, but then we've got to talk. " He looked at his watch. "Omigod! I've got to open the store! Where did you put my pants?"

Driving to the store. Arnold was beaming, but largely silent. Janet, on the other hand was bubbly, excited: "I cant wait to see that tape! Ooh, I bet its just great! Ol' Bettie Page rides again! We're on our way, Arnold, honey! Ah jes know it!"

Arnold winced slightly at the accent. Who is this chameleon I've created, he wondered. This was going to be a long, wild ride. And then he grinned again. He didn't regret a thing so far.

Stacy had opened the shop; slightly surprised that Arnold was late., that wasn't his usual style. She was more surprised when he entered, a bit sheepishly, followed by a statuesque brunette.

"Uh. Stacy--sorry I'm a little late, glad you opened up. Uh--this is Bettie--I mean Janet. She's going to be in and out for the next little while--we're working on --a film project. And this is Stacy, my good right hand--Stacy--Janet--" Arnold wasn't quite sure why he was so embarrassed; he suspected the legend 'I'm fucking this woman' was somehow etched on his forehead.

Tan. blonde, with an impeccable white toothed smile, Stacy was the quintessential California girl. Today she wore an oversized man's oxford shirt, black tights and Dr. Marten high tops; the outfit did not hide her perky loveliness. She assessed Jane with the candid stare of a lioness protecting her territory. Janet met her gaze, calmly.

"Nice to meet you, Janet. Arnold, that Canon shipment is late, and we've got some new orders--but hey, don't let me interrupt your--project." Stacy said sweetly.

"I'm sure you're a great help to Arnold, dear. It's wonderful to have good help these days." Janet replied just as sweetly. "Arnold, shall we?"

In the back room they watched the burglar tape almost in silence. Arnold felt himself getting hard again, and Janet sighed several times, especially at the hand held camera closeups of her tight bondage and her rosy, thoroughly spanked bottom.

Arnold finally spoke. "it's fantastic! And way too hot. This is hard core stuff. Maybe if we cut--"

"Don't you dare cut any of it! It's great! It makes me feel so sexy and gooshy--you know!" She put her hand on his thigh.

"Janet--C'mon. OK, it's too good to cut. I'll intersperse the closeups, tighten up the opening scene--OK, we won't cut it. But--it's too soon! If we market this, there's no place to go but hard core! It wouldn't be Bettie--It wouldn't be you--uh, would it?"

Janet snuggled against him. "You're in charge, Arnold. I guess I just have to trust you on this. But I really need to be Bettie some more and I want to do it right. So, what do we do?"

"I need to think this through--and call Sid," Arnold said. "But lets film two or three -uh--milder tapes. Dances, maybe, like Bettie's older stuff, or Bettie the maid, or some light bondage --one a week, maybe, and save the burglar for the block buster, There's all kind of business shit involved; copyrights, distribution, boring stuff, but we don't even have a contract yet. But if we do this right, we'll be rich!"

"Rich! Is this all about money?" Janet stiffened.

"Janet! You know the answer to that! Money's great and we--I mean both of us are going to make a lot of it, if I don't mess up. What this is really about is my fantasy come true, with this weird, incredibly sexy woman--super Bettie --in my life. That's what important. and I want to do it right. I'm scared--you scare me a little bit--shit! I keep saying that!--And--"

Janet leaned forward and kissed him. For a while. Then said: "It's my fantasy, too, and I need for you to be in charge. That's part of the turn on. And if I get too pushy, or do something naughty, I guess you'll have to spank me again. Until I learn to behave!" She got to her feet and wiggled mischievously, turned her back and flounced up her skirt; Bettie to the core.

Arnold had her over his lap is seconds; Janet kicking her legs and 

squealing with glee as he held her wrists and roughly tugged down her panties. She squirmed as his big hand came down: three swats and her still tender cheeks were splotched crimson. She kicked futilely, shrieking; "Ooh! Ow! Stop! I'll be good! OW!"

 * 

"Arnold! Mr. Dworkin! What are you...?" It was Stacy in the doorway. 'There's a customer up front--I thought--wow! this is so--kinky!"

Arnold froze, his hand poised over Janet's smarting ass. He cleared his throat , weakly. "Uhh--Stacy. I'll be with you in a moment."

The blonde stood frozen, her slack-jawed gape slowly turning to a wide grin. "Right! Oh wow! Right!"

"Stacy! Close the fucking door!"

"I guess I got caught with my pants down. I'm sorry Arnold, I'm not using very good judgment, am I?" Janet's voice was abashed as she tugged her briefs over her pink bottom.

Arnold wasn't listening. "Shit! Shit oh dear! What can I tell her?"

Janet smoothed down her tight denim skirt, rubbing her tender ass absently. She was calm, assured, no Bettie Page camping now. "You don't tell her anything. This twenty-something little Valley girl's got the hots for you--I could see it the moment we walked in. Did you hear what she said? "Kinky! WOW!" --just be cool and you'll have no problem--except her maybe coming on to you. Voice of experience, Arnold."

Arnold rubbed his chin, thinking how little he knew about this mercurial woman so suddenly the most important thing in his life, or come to think of it, how little he knew about women in general. "Yeah, maybe you're right. Just pretend nothing was going down. Ahh--you think she's hot for me, huh?"

"Don't push it, hon. You don't need a jealous Bettie Page on your hands, do you? You'd better see to that customer; I'm off to the leather shop again; I've got a few nasty script ideas that need costumes. Give me a hug." They embraced. "Easy. we'll continue this tonight, OK? My place."

As Arnold discussed Polaroid filters with his customer, Janet sashayed through the store, exchanging cool stares with Stacy. The day was 

unusually busy; there was a run on the throwaway cardboard cameras Arnold had put on sale. Throughout the day, though, Arnold was very aware of Stacy's slightly amused regard.

As they were closing up, Stacy eyed Arnold and said: "I probably should have knocked louder--you know, this morning. I was, like, totally surprised." Arnold was silent. "She's really attractive. if you like, you know, older women. I guess they know all about that weird stuff, right? Spanking, and like that--"

"Stacy. I agree you should have knocked louder. Anything else is none of your business."

"Yeah. Right. Like, I said, I was sorry. I really like working here--with you--and all." She bit her lip.

Arnold had an urge to give her a reassuring hug, and stopped himself just in time. Why was she standing so close? he remembered what Janet had said. "Let's both just forget it, Stacy. You are a --uh--valued employee; I wouldn't want to do anything to change that, OK?. I mean that. See you Monday morning, Take care."



SIX

The next afternoon Sid, the LA distributor, was on the phone: "Hey! Dworkin! How's it going? Sid here. Listen! this Bettie Page thing is flying outta the store! Word of mouth, i guess. I had to tape 5000 more copies--big bucks for you and me, my friend! Now, I gotta ask you--can you possibly get me some follow up tapes? The woods down here are full of old farts frantic to jerk off with Bettie! How about it?"

"Well, Sid, good news. My --uh--source has some more old 16mm stuff. I haven't screened it yet, but if its any good, I'll Fed Ex it right down to you."

Later, at Janet's apartment--she was busy trying on a laced leather corset and straps and bondage gear--he gave her the good news. "I think we should move ahead with this--like tomorrow! How about that weird Hawaiian hula idea you had? We'll need to make the audio tape. What's that--Wow!--that leather thing? Don't put that in--hey!"

Janet smiled sweetly, brandishing the dildo. "Just fooling around, dear. You know you're the man!"

After fortyfive minutes of sex, stupefying again for Arnold, they got down to business: they would do the Hula dance, then a patient--doctor skit, and then--maybe--a self-bondage episode that Janet loved; Arnold was a bit leery; it sounded like severe S and M , maybe too much.

In the back room studio the next night, they filmed the Hawaiian hula; Arnold's initial idea, Janet's kinky finish. Arnold had prerecorded the music and his voice-over dialogue, doing a passable job with a plummy, unctuous travelogue type voice.

Bettie enters the same tacky set, wearing a short rayon print dress with Joan Crawford type shoulder pads, platform high heels, gartered black 

seamed hose, and a foolish Hawaiian straw hat--very nineteen sixties. She unloads a shopping bag on the coffee table. "I'm going to learn me a genuine hula dance--got all the stuff right here! Instruction record, grass skirt, the whole nine yards!"

She shrugs out of her dress; she's wearing her lacy black bra and wispy panties again. Sitting on the couch, she kicks off her shoes and slowly peels off her stockings. Rummaging through her purchases, she slips on plastic flower anklets and wrist bands and drapes a plastic hibiscus lei around her neck. She fastens on a short, bushy grass skirt, low on her hips, and starts the instruction record on the turntable. 

Announcer: "Aloha, students. The hula is an ancient form of Polynesian story telling. Every little movement has a meaning all its own.."

Bettie: "Get on with it!"

Announcer: "Don't rush me. Let's start with Lovely Hula Hands. Don't forget to rotate your hips." Bettie does indeed rotate her hips as the music begins, hokey hand movements and all. Just as she's getting into it, the music stops.

Bettie: "What now?"

Announcer: "The authentic hula can only be danced in grass skirt, lei, and nothing else! So, if you're trying this in your long underwear or three piece suit, we'll pause so you can get naked now!"

Bettie: "Well, why didn't you say so?" She unhooks and discards her bra ,then turns away from the camera, arches her rump and slides off her panties, and moons the camera with a delicious shimmy. The grass skirt is short and full, almost a tutu; her bare ass and perineal cleft flirt with the camera. * Bettie: "I think I'm ready now; naked as a jay bird!"

Announcer: "Good! May I say you look lovely. Music, please!" 

 Three minutes or so of hula music; Bettie dances. Janet has the old dance routines from Bettie's film clips down cold; the easy smile, twinkling eyes, the sweet and salacious bumps and grinds, the pirouettes as she rotates her bottom. Her breasts bounce perkily, only intermittently hidden by the lei.

Announcer: "Excellent! the hula has the mystical power to bring new sensations to your loins--hot, throbbing--now for a faster beat!" New music: Hawaiian War Chant.

Bettie dances with abandon for a minute or two, then her graceful hand motions change. She is scratching; first one hip, then the other, then reaching under the brief grass skirt, her inner thighs. She continues to dance, but more and more frantically. "Tarnation! I got new sensations all right! That's a big time itch!" She turns away from the camera spreads her legs and scratches furiously at her furry crotch.

Announcer (over the continuing music): "Your skirt is made of authentic Hawaiian crab grass, and contains --authentic Hawaiian crabs--pubic lice, if you will--live and lively. Should you have any itching or burning problems, now's the time to use the tiki idol in your kit--it's lightly medicated--or consult your friendly neighborhood druggist. But now; on with the dance!"

Bettie tears off the grass skirt and reaches for the tiki--about two feet long, carved wood with a grinning hook nosed face and a spiky headdress. She rubs it between her legs, scratching at first, then faster and deeper still dancing to the torrid beat. Now she sinks to her knees, manipulating the phallic shaft back and forth, up and down, between her thighs. Finally she is flat on her back, arching, legs splayed and kicking as she rubs herself in time to the ongoing music; her eyes are now half closed, lips parted.* Announcer (over music fade to Aloha Oe): "Aloha, students! As the sun sinks in the west and the tiki slowly sinks into your nukinuki, we hope this lesson has given you the itch to visit the islands. Aloha, Bettie, and keep humping!"

Bettie: (on the floor,, frantically sawing the tiki between her cuntlips): "That son of a bitch! Ooh!" Fade.

Fade in: Betty is on the couch, dreamy, relaxed. Shot is not explicit as she holds the tiki in one hand, moving it gently in and out, her left knee coyly flexed. The camera angle makes it clear that the bulk of the wooden shaft is buried in her vagina.

Bettie (smiles dreamily at the camera): "Umm--I don't think my friendly neighborhood druggist could do this! If you itch, you gotta scratch, right? Umm! Aloha! Come on, tiki god!"

SEVEN

Arnold put down the camcorder and knelt alongside Janet on the couch, still thrusting at the tiki. "Uhh--we're though shooting now, I mean. you can quit--goddammit, take that wooden dildo out of your--"

Janet smiled dreamily. "Right. Hey, this was fun. Now don't be jealous, just help me slide this--ooh!-that was a turn on!--thing out. Umm! How did I do?"

Arnold ; slightly grumpy: "Great, I think it was great. I'll edit it tonight, and send to Sid in the morning. So let's get a good night's rest."

Janet got up from the couch, snuggled against him. "Arnold. C'mon. It's only eight o'clock, and I've got all this kinky leather gear --so let's do another quick video! Come on! I really want to! I'm kinda--you know--into it! "

"What leather gear?" Arnold asked as she dumped the contents of a big plastic shopping bag onto the tabletop. "What in hell is all this? And all that stuff you had at your apartment, come to think of it." He stared at the jumble of straps, cuffs, buckles and other leather paraphernalia.

"Oh, just some ideas that Kevin and I thought up this afternoon..." Janet giggled, still nude, still stroking the wet tiki dildo.

"Kevin! Who in hell is Kevin?" Arnold exploded. "What's going on here? Where were you this afternoon?"

Janet giggled again. "Wow! You should see your face! Don't be jealous, dear--Kevin's the neat guy down at the kinky costume and leather store you sent me to on that first day--remember? Look what he sold me today." She slipped into an extreme fetish getup: patent leather boots and gloves, a leather garterbelt and block stockings. She posed. pouting. Arnold was transfixed. She wriggled salaciously, then smiled.