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.
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Part 2 Chapter 1 | Chapter
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