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DISCLAIMER: Some of the things the characters do in this story are seen as offensive or frightening (even terrifying) by some if not most people. Please don’t surprise anyone. Always ask first. Have an agreed upon safe word even if you don’t do BDSM. See Cecilia Page for story codes and additional information.

Cecilia

Part 2— Chapter 2

She bit her lip, reached to wipe it and smelled the piss on her hand. Ashley's moans and the frantic slapping of bodies against body could be heard from the TV.

She laid her hand back down in the wet and shook her head. She couldn't even remember.

She had a moment of panic. She wondered what time it was; Dave was due at seven. She forced her eyes to leave the screen and studied the time on the VCR. Six. Still time.

She brushed the hair out her eyes, remembered the piss on her hand and grinned. She was stiff, got up awkwardly - tried not to touch the wall.

After the first time she created a pool. She laid down four pieces of two by four, each about four feet long, to form a square. She laid a large piece of plastic on the square; the edges were held up by the wood border. She was managing.

She looked for the remote; it was over on the mattress. Oh well. She shook herself off, then walked to the bathroom with the plastic "bag." It was easiest to dump it into the tub.

She took the plastic to the back door and tossed it into the yard for cleaning later.

She shut off the VCR and went into the bathroom. There was only time for a short shower. She didn't play - she needed the sexual energy for this evening. She had a plan. Maybe better described as stepping-stones. Dave was the first. Then she'd hop to the coach. She'd see the next stone when she was there.

Dressed in her black lace bra and panties with a crimson silk top, left open, she studied herself in the mirror. She looked pretty good, she thought. She winked at the reflection of the hooded man standing next to her and went into the kitchen to start the brown rice.

She needed to remember the incense tomorrow. She was almost out. She bent and wrote "Incense" below "Wrench" on the pad. She added "Paraphernalia and films" below them. She had a stack of rental films to drop off at the twenty-four hour adult bookstore.

She went back into the kitchen to prepare the vegetables and hummed to herself. Candles, healthy food, pretty woman, what more did Dave need? She laid the knife by the cutting board and gave a laugh which lasted a bit too long. She checked herself.

Damn. She needed to make the bed. She went to the living room, tore off the sheet from the mattress spilling a vibrator and two dildos onto the floor. She held the sheet in one arm while she removed the mattress cover and rolled that up in her other arm. She kicked the toys so they lay in a corner of the room, by the lengths of cotton clothesline, and left to dump the bedding in the empty bedroom. She shut the door.

She walked past the mattress, admiring again the large stain in the center, back to the kitchen. She resumed chopping vegetables. She felt relaxed, more relaxed than she'd felt for weeks. She felt in control. She grinned at her reflection in the window; it was night outside. It was quiet inside except for the distant sound of leather hitting flesh and her cries for more.

The doorbell rang. She dried her hands, spun the knife until it was just right on the cutting board and left her kitchen to answer the door.

"Mrs. Stephens."

"Dave, come on in." She shut the door behind him. "Since Ashley and you seem to be serious I thought an evening together to talk was appropriate." She brushed past him. "Like it? Since I left Ashley's father I've been living a monastic existence as you can see." She pointed to the mattress. "Sit down, sit down. Make yourself at home. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes."

She left the room feeling his eyes on her, everywhere. She chatted from the kitchen. "The past several weeks have been hard for Ashley. For me, I have the feeling my monastic existence will change any moment now. I can feel it. In the air or something like that." She filled two bowls with rice, dumped the cut raw vegetables into another bowl. She stuck a spoon in each rice bowl. She cradled all three bowls in her arms and carried them to the living room. "I thought we would eat and talk first then watch a movie afterwards. I have several to choose from." She waved at the VCR after laying the bowls at his feet.

He has problems not staring at her cleavage, she thought, as she walked in with tall glasses of water. "Natural spring water. You're an athlete, you understand the importance of a healthy diet. There." She sat next to him, pressed against his side. The first man she'd touched, she was almost sure, for some time now. It felt nice.

She put her hand on his arm. "If your people say grace, you may if you want." She blinked her eyes at him.

He was big for his age, tall. She could see why her daughter was attracted to him. She gave him a bright smile as she brought a spoonful of rice to her lips.

She had forgotten how much fun it was tweaking straights. She had originally thought she'd let him carry the conversation during dinner. He looked a bit out of his sphere and wasn't saying a word.

She crunched on a carrot, gave him a grin, said, "Yum," and licked her lips. She wondered if sitting like this, he wasn't noticing her panties showing the bulge of her engorged pussy. She opened her legs wider. She finished her rice, set the bowl to the side, and took up a handful of vegetables.

She was wafting, now, too. She was sure he could smell her. She rubbed against him as she settled in her seat, forgot for a moment what she was doing, rubbed against him more firmly with her hip, a constant press then retreat. She wanted to reach down and open her panty waistband so he could see her bare pussy. She rubbed her leg instead, gave him a shy smile and asked, "What do you like best about Ashley?"

She stared at him as he swallowed noisily.

"She's beautiful, she's smart, she's a very giving person."

He gave a nod.

"She's been on cloud nine the past several weeks. You mean a lot to her. What are your plans after high school? College?"

"Amherst," he said. "I'm applying there and Duke."

"Duke's better. Both are pretty far from here. Have you considered a local university? Ashley is fifteen, she has two more years of high school. It's hard to carry on a relationship if you commute."

He shook his head. "I . . ."

"But I guess if you're married there won't be a commute, will there?"

"Married?" His voice squeaked. He shifted away from her.

She reached for his empty rice bowl, brushing against him arm with her soft breast. Soft and barely covered. "Here, I'll take that." She set the bowl down. "Ashley's pregnant. Marriage is the only honorable thing to do, isn't it?"

"Pregnant!" He squeaked. "She said she was on the pill."

"She forgets sometimes."

"Look I . . ."

"Ready to watch a film?" She rose to her feet, stepped across the bowls and water glasses to the stack on the VCR. She handed him the porn video boxes, sat down next to him, hand on his arm, pressing against him. "See anything you like?"

He blushed.

She could feel the rush of heat on his skin. She gave his arm a rub. "Ever done anything like that?" she said softly.

He shook his head, moved another video box into view. He gulped.

"Or that? I bet that is fun." She gave his arm a squeeze. "I'm warm, aren't you?" She backed away from him, removed her top and laid it beside him. "There, that's better isn't it? Find one you like?"

He handed her one wildly, then the whole stack.

She noticed he had an erection. He awkwardly shifted position.

"Ashley will make you a marvelous wife. I know she will. Will your parents be able to support you three while they put you through college? I'm sure Ashley's father will disown her. He is a bit rigid." She dumped the videos onto the VCR, put one in and brought the remote back with her. "She's walking on eggshells now. If he ever found out he'd kill you." She gave him a grin. "Would you be more comfortable lying down? There's room for two."

He sat with his legs pressed against his chest, staring at her. He looked awfully frightened.

She sat next to him with her arm around his shoulders. "Nice. I like muscles," she said as she used the remote to start the TV then the VCR. She laid her head against his arm. "As you can see the film isn't usually what is shown on the box. Can you hear?" She used the remote to increase the volume.

He sat still as a rock, eyes closed. Tremors shook almost imperceptibly through his arms and legs. He began to sweat.

"Ashley is a good fuck, isn't she, Dave? Look!" She gave his arm a shove. "Look."

He opened his eyes, then closed them.

"If you think William would go ballistic over Ashley getting pregnant, imagine what would happen if he saw a copy of this. Just imagine, Dave. Who is that short fat guy ass fucking her now, Dave?" She turned off the TV and gave his arm a squeeze. "You guys are a bunch of sexually incompetent jerks. You call that fucking?"

The man in the mask winked at her. She winked back, then turned from the corner with the rope (for her she hoped) back to Dave.

She waited for a moment, resumed. "It is only Ashley's inexperience that let her put up with that. I mean, honestly. How many times did you do her? Just once? A sweet piece of ass like that and you can only do her once?" She tossed the remote onto the bed. "Of course you weren't thinking about her, only yourselves. That was her moment and you let her down."

She rose to her feet, went to the corner, picked up the vibrator and turned it on. She walked back to the bed. "That was her moment, wasn't it? That was something she wanted to do, wasn't it? Imagine her sweet anticipation." She poked the vibrator at him and he jumped.

Dave stood quickly and rushed to the door to leave.

"Dave, we're not done yet. Ashley is fifteen, a minor. Think about it. Statutory rape. That copy of the videotape you gave her documents her rape. I think I need to talk to the short fat man you call your coach before copies of this video are sent to the school board and police. I think we need to sit down and have a calm discussion about how William will take this." She smiled as his hand fell off the doorknob and he turned to her. If he were smart there would be tears in his eyes. There weren't. College material but not that smart.

She turned off the vibrator and laid it beside her on the mattress. She gave it a pat. Till later, she thought. She gave a bright smile to Dave. "You need to call your coach."

Step one was done. She was poised for the second stepping stone. She thought about what shoes she should wear for coach. She gave a small wave as the hooded man left the room, the rope in his hands. He was smiling. He was planning something special for her later.

She dropped the bag of Red Zinger into her cup of boiling water and let it steep. She decided on the high-heeled sandals that laced up her shins.

She came back to the kitchen a few minutes later, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor as she walked. She was taller, her body pitched slightly forward, her long trim legs defined by wearing the sandals.

She tugged the lace panties higher, into her crotch. She swung her hips from side to side so the fabric was pulled into her slit, exposing her labia.

She pulled her bra down, freeing her breasts, then let it snap up, forcing her breasts outward and inward. She wanted to rub against something, anything. She pressed against the refrigerator, driving her tits into the cold hard metal as she shifted her feet pulling her panties higher. She pressed her forehead against the refrigerator as she did her dance, faster, then faster still.

The doorbell rang.

Shit, she thought. Let the asshole wait. She held the waistband of her panties in the front and back and sawed it savagely while squeezing her breasts into the white enamel of the refrigerator door.

She stomped her feet as the doorbell rang again, banged her forehead three times against the metal while biting her lip hard.

The doorbell rang a third time.

Fuck, she thought. She backed from the refrigerator and took a deep breath. She pulled her panties back into the original position, shoved her breasts back into the bra cups. She pushed her hair back, wiped the blood from her lower lip with the back of her hand.

The doorbell rang.

"I'm coming," she yelled. Not, she thought.

She answered the door with the cup in her hand. "I'm Mrs. Stephens, you must be the coach. I've made some herbal tea; would you like a cup?" She handed him hers. "Sit down, I'll get another." She pointed to the mattress.

When she came back into the room she found him looking through the videotapes. "It's not there. Sit down. Please. That was a copy I showed Dave. Ashley's original is in a very safe place." She waited by the mattress with her tea. She sat; he sat on a corner far from her. He set his cup of tea on the floor.

She blew across the top of her tea, sniffed the aroma. She loved the way it smelled. She grinned at him. "Still too hot." She set her cup by her feet and turned her body toward him. "I didn't get your name." She gave a warm smile.

He stared at her for a moment longer. "Mike Adams, Coach Adams, Mrs. Stephens."

"You look bigger with your clothes on." She laughed. "Before you tell me to go fuck myself, take a moment and listen to me."

He gave a nod.

"First off," she picked up a nine by twelve manila envelope, "I write and I would like your honest thoughts about this piece. I think you will like the naughty bits." She tossed the envelope toward him. "My number is on the envelope."

She laid her hands on her lap, cupped them. She watched his eyes drop, his face color. She looked down. One of her pussy lips was exposed. She looked up at him and grinned. "My understanding is Dave was trying to recruit a new team slut. That your former one became disgruntled." She waited.

"I'm not saying anything, just listening, Mrs. Stephens." He lifted his knee and held it with both hands.

"There may be a way to resolve this problem you've created."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Ashley has no desire to step into the 'shoes,' if that's the proper word, of your former slut. Blackmail aside, she's just not interested. The blackmail makes her angry as hell. If you can imagine."

She rose to her feet, walked slowly past him to the corner where she'd set up all her toys. They stood like eager soldiers. She chose a twelve inch black dildo with bulging veins and monstrous head. She turned, used her other hand to adjust her panties, and then walked slowly back.

She liked the way it felt to sway with each step. Her hips swayed gracefully, her body bent into each step then relaxed momentarily backward. She wasn't sure it was perceptible to him. It was to her. She stroked the rubber cock with her fingers, sat down.

"Perhaps if I talked to this former person you can have your slut back, you'll give me all copies of the videotape which I'll destroy, and everyone will be happy. My husband won't need to be bothered with any of this. You and your boys can return to fun and games and my daughter Ashley can return to being a happy-go-lucky tenth grader, sweet and innocent."

She used the dildo to scratch her head while he thought. She set it beside her, picked up her tea and took a sip.

He shrugged his shoulders.

She relaxed and shut her eyes for a moment. Angie, who lived in the house with them, had invited a friend, Sophia, who was amazing. She'd never seen someone take so many on at once, who was insatiable, who somehow, scent, somehow, drove the guys crazy like that.

She glanced over at Angie who was watching like the rest of the girls. Angie was nice. She touched Angie's bare hip. Angie looked at her, gave a grin and they fell into each other's arms on the couch. She loved the way Angie's cool breasts felt against hers, wobbly and satisfying. They kissed while . . . She heard him shift.

She opened her eyes. Her hand was on her crotch pressing. She looked down, adjusted the fabric so her labia were again covered, then raised her eyes to Coach Adams'. She winked at him.

She saw him mouth the word, "Slut." She shook her head, mouthed back, "Crazy," and grinned. She picked up the dildo and held it in her lap. She squeezed it with both hands. She needed to get this over with quickly. She wished Joe was in his cab waiting outside.

She set the dildo aside, rose to her feet. She walked slowly to the computer desk, turned on the monitor and the computer. When it was time she entered Ashley's password. She picked up a pad and pen, carried them to Coach Adams and dropped them on the mattress next to him.

She sat in the chair in front of the computer. "Write down her name, phone number and address then go." She smiled. "Or just go. I can't afford to spend any more time with you." She faced the screen.

She brought up her word processor program, found the file for the story she was working on and began typing from her handwritten copy. She heard him get up and leave, typed a few words more then stopped. She checked the time on the computer's clock. Nine forty-five. Ashley was calling at eleven.

She went to the mattress and picked up the pad. He had written: "For a good time call Miss Trudie Taylor, 379-4034."

A Miss Taylor was Ashley's English teacher. One Ashley liked. She carried the pad to the phone. She was ready to hop to stepping stone three.

She'd call, see if Trudie could come by tomorrow evening. She was exhausted. She needed to retreat for a bit.

The basement was cold, too cold. She curled into a tighter ball. It was night out, she could tell looking at the window. Night and chilly.

The floor's grit seemed to cut into her skin. Some of the welts on her side were especially sensitive. She was covered with welts.

Her hands were tied to her ankles so she couldn't play with herself. She burned. She ached for cock to fill her cunt or ass. Cocks for both. She rubbed her cheek on the grit, tasted it.

Car lights flashed on the window, then she heard the crunch of tires on gravel. A single door slammed, a single person walked across the gravel to the house.

Within minutes the man with the hooded mask knelt next to her and untied her ankles and wrists. He slapped her thigh then stood. He said, "Up."

It took a moment for her to stand. She'd been in that position too long. "Please, I need to go to the bathroom," she said.

He walked from her, turned to watch her crouch over the hole in the corner.

She pissed then shit a thin watery gruel. They weren't feeding her enough, she thought. They wanted her thinner. She shook her ass then stood.

He waited by the open door.

She sauntered sexily to him, let him grasp her arm, guide her upstairs then out into the yard. He left her, turned on a hose and washed her off. When the water first hit her she jumped, then relaxed. It was warmer, warmer than the night air.

She used her hands and the soap he gave her to scrub, then he used the hose to rinse her. He held the hose close to her ass while she bent over to make sure she was clean. He tossed her a towel and watched her dry off.

She sucked in the moisture around her mouth, licked her arm and shoulder to get water, saw his face and stopped. She resumed drying herself. He wouldn't let her dry her hair.

He had her leave the towel in the drive and follow him to the black Cadillac. He opened the trunk and stood aside.

By the trunk light she saw three red colored boxes. The first held a pair of black pumps with tall shiny steel spike heels. She opened the next box and found a lightweight short knit dress, white with spaghetti straps. The third box held a black leather collar with chrome steel studs and a long chain leash with a red leather grip.

She put on the dress first; it was light, caressed her skin. This was the first clothing she'd worn for weeks. It was cut so it accentuated her breasts which were barely covered. The dress fell only to her upper thigh. She stepped into the pumps and carried the collar and leash to the man in the black hooded mask. He put it on so the leash attached at the front of her neck. The chain hung down between her breasts.

He opened the door to the back and joined her from the other side. When he closed the door the driver started the car. A fifteen-minute drive through the countryside brought them to the edge of town where they parked next to a yellow cab.

The cabbie jumped out to hold the door open for her; a short heavyweight man whose face was covered with moles. The man in the mask joined her in the taxi, held her leash while the taxi drove through the crowded city streets.

She faced forward, watched the colorful lights of stores as they drove past, saw car tail lights flash red, show turn signals. The world was rich with color and motion.

The cab parked in front of an expensive restaurant, one of the finest in the city with a worldwide reputation. She darted a look at the man in the mask.

She waited outside the taxi while the man in the mask and the cabbie talked. The man in the mask circled the cab and opened her door.

"Kneel," he said.

She fell to her knees onto the pavement by the sidewalk. She was pushed so she leaned against the car seat. She felt her dress being lifted then heard steps behind her.

A heavy shape fell against her; his cock plunged into her cunt, and fucked her. She felt him pull out too soon and shoot onto her ass and legs. His cum shot in three thick copious streams.

She heard him leave her, felt her dress fall back into place and stick to the cum.

"Turn," she heard.

She rotated ninety degrees, took the offered cock into her mouth. She could see, from the corner of her eye, people standing by and watching on the sidewalk as she sucked the man with the mask. When he came she tried to follow his cock with her mouth but his hand holding her hair restrained her. He shot onto her face. She held out her tongue to catch as much as she could.

He gave her head a shake and told her to rise. She stood and turned and saw the faces of the onlookers. Some showed shock, some showed desire - the expression wasn't according to their gender. She licked in a string of cum that had dripped onto her lips, then felt the leash tug.

She followed him into the restaurant, sat on a couch as he talked to the maitre d'. She held the hem of her skirt up to show her bare pussy and the rings in her labia. She listened to the clink of cutlery, soft chamber music and murmur of voices. A waiter passed by not looking at her. The man in the mask sat down by her side, took the leash from her hand and relaxed, crossing his legs.

She held the skirt higher as she waited. She attentively focused on the sensation as the cum dripped from her face onto her dress and from her legs onto the black leather couch where it pooled. Her cunt gave a soft burp.

She rubbed her face in the drool on the floor, felt the twelve-inch dildo slip out of her cunt. She felt warm all over. She licked the floor, pressed her right breast into the floor with her hand. She began to crawl toward the ringing telephone. She stopped, stood, tottered to the telephone, and sat on the floor heavily.

"Mom?"

"Hi, dear."

"You sound tired."

"It's been a long night. I talked to Dave. When you see him tomorrow press him for ideas on what to name the baby."

Ashley sighed. "Mom!"

"I mean it. You might suggest the possibility of twins." She paused. "You do remember to take your pill, don't you?"

"Like clockwork. And?"

"They have no shame, dear. But so far, everything is working to plan. Is Friday a home game?"

"This Friday? Sure. I wasn't planning on going. That okay?"

"We'll see. Stop by tomorrow and we can talk."

"Right after school. Thanks, Mom."

"How's William?"

"You know dad."

"Busy at work."

"Busy at something. He's been coming home late."

"Good."

"I can't believe you, Mom."

"Smile at him sweetly until you have that trust fund safe and secure."

"You should get more."

"Sweet, what would I do with it?"

"Mom." Ashley sounded exasperated.

"I need to go to bed, honey. Take care."

"Sweet dreams, Mom."

"Sweet dreams, dear."

She hung up the telephone overhead and slumped to the floor. The man with the mask tugged her leash.

Go to next chapter
Part 1 — Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Part 2 — Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
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