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                      [M/F, MM/F, F/F, Semi N/C, Lampoon]

                                    Story #4
                         by Tom Bombadil  (c) Dec 1996

      Disclaimer:  All the standard rules apply.  If you are offended by
explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to possess
such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law in your location,
or if somebody else thinks you might have too much fun reading it, stop right
now and remove this text from your computer.

      This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions
described by me coming straight out of my imagination.  As a work of fiction,
it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or actions described, nor
does it relate to any type of real events in my life, or known to me in the
lives of any of my friends or relatives.

      You've been warned.

      I give permission for anyone to share or archive this story.

      ********************************************************************

                                "Whitewash" 2/3
                           (Celeste's Contest Entry)
                                by Tom Bombadil
                                  (c) Dec 1996
                                    Story #4

      Saturday night, John rented a couple more movies.  Maybe it was a
coincidence, or maybe he noticed my fascination with a few of the scenes from
the previous week, but one of the tapes was titled "Lesbian Tongue Lashers", or
something equally stupid.

      Nevertheless, that night, there was another first.  Half way through the
second movie, after watching woman after woman shriek through orally induced
orgasm after orgasm, I was so hot, I dragged John down on top of me, right
there on the couch!  It was the first time for us anywhere other than in bed.
If the women were faking it, I didn't care.  My imagination filled in for any
lack in their acting abilities.

      The movie was hot, John was hot, and I was sizzling.  Never before had I
felt like I did that night.  While he pumped, licked, sucked, grabbed, and
squeezed, I watched the television.

      There wasa group scene going on, whith for woman ina ccircle,all hooked
upm outh to croth, moth tocrotch, lickignand sucking and
lickinganddalllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll.

      The four women were in a circle, with each one buried deep in the crotch
of the next.  The closeups were vivid, showing tongues licking on and in
cracks, pushing deep into holes, and licking on top of clits over and over
again.  The sounds they made were incredible - their moans and whimpers, and
sometimes shrieks, as one or another went over the edge, almost drove me
insane.  Finally, the climax of the scene, and the movie, arrived, and mine and
John's as well.  All four women went off at the same time, writhing and
groaning in their passions.  They set me off too, in a shrieking, gut-wrenching
orgasm.  It was not quite as good as when Tim and Dick had me in Dick's office,
but it was close.  It was also the most powerful orgasm I'd ever had with John,
and he knew it.

      It was also, according to him, the hottest, wildest, most ball-draining
experience he'd ever had.  Later, he started grilling me about what different,
why I was changing.  He wasn't too insistent, so I was able to put him off, but
the seed had been planted in his mind.  Something that he hinted at, something
that I didn't think had the slightest bit of truth to it, was the possibility
that I was a closet, or repressed, lesbian - or that I might be bi-sexual.  I
knew that was totally off the mark because I enjoyed John's cock too much.  It
was the thought of those tongues working away inside my pussy that set me off,
not their owners.  My sleep was troubled by disturbing, unremembered dreams.

                                   **********

      The following week was pretty uneventful, if you can call masturbating
naked in front of your boss, giving him blow jobs, and getting painfully fucked
by him uneventful.  I guess, since he left me alone other than first thing in
the morning, and made no lewd references about what was going on, I managed to
shut away those events during the rest of the day and concentrate on work,
burying myself in all the mundane details requiring my attention.  I still find
it amazing how quickly I adapted to what was a very weird situation.

      Whatever other effects his manipulations had, my appetite for John had
certainly gone up.  He was the surprised, and delighted, target for a lot of
newfound sexual energy.  I guess it's true.  The more you do it, the more you
want it.

      On Friday, two things happened.  Dick gave me another couple of hundred,
and told me to buy a bunch of slinky evening and sleepwear that night.  He then
told me I was going to spend Saturday night at his place.  There was no arguing
with him, no discussion, no ifs, ands, or buts.  I was to be there.  He gave me
his address and telephone number.  Since he was carrying that folder with him
at the time, I didn't argue very much.  I was getting in too deep to be able to
say no easily.  What helped ease my conscience a little was the fact that it
was payday, and that huge commission check was now sitting in the bank.
Nevertheless, guilt rode me hard.

      John was very understanding about my need to be away for work that
weekend, even though we had originally vowed that Saturday nights were to be
reserved for us, and our own fun.  Maybe it was because his own work hours were
down again, and he knew we needed the money. I didn't think he suspected there
was another man involved, but I couldn't be completely sure of that.  Friday
night, and then again on Saturday morning, we fucked like bunnies.  He didn't
understand the change, and, to tell you the truth, neither did I, but my
passions, my appetite, and above all, my enjoyment, were increasing daily.

      I still wouldn't let him do anything strange, and we stuck to the
missionary position, but still, it was pretty wild.  I even let him finger me
to orgasm once, when he was flagging a little.

                                   **********

      At five o'clock sharp I showed up at Dick's place.  It was huge, way out
in the suburbs, and on a lot that looked big enough for a modest airport.
There was money in that house, and that property.  From what little I knew
about the company we worked for, he certainly hadn't paid for that place with
his salary and commissions.

      A very pretty older lady answered the doorbell.  She looked to be in her
late twenties or early thirties.  Later I found out that she was in fact only a
few months shy of forty.  The brunette was a couple of inches shorter than me,
but probably weighed a few pounds more.  All of the extra weight was poured
into the right places. Where I was tight and trim, she was what my husband
would call voluptuous.  With big breasts, round hips, full, jiggling bottom,
yet still with a flat stomach and good waist, she looked magnificent.
Everything was showcased in the maid's uniform she was wearing, especially her
breasts and shapely legs.  I knew if John saw her, he would probably be
drooling.  I knew his taste in women. He'd pointed out enough of them both on
the streets and in the porno flicks.  His favourite expression, one that
definitely applied in her case, was 'built like a brick shithouse'.

      Dick introduced her as Mrs. Darling.  Cindy Darling.  I almost choked
when I heard that.  How anyone could go through life with a last name like that
totally baffled me, even though I knew it was a common enough surname.

      I had no idea what my boss had in mind for the night, but I had expected
it to be rude, crude, embarrassing, demeaning, and otherwise thoroughly
hateful.  He shocked me, at least with the early part of the evening.

      After some pre-dinner drinks (I had ginger ale, he had scotch), Cindy
called us to the table.  She served us Gaspatcho soup, followed by a wonderful
crab and shrimp salad.  Dick said that the cook was a woman named Tanya, and
that I'd meet her later.  If the preliminaries were anything to go by, dinner
would be spectacular. She exceeded my expectations with a duck l'orange that
was simply too marvellous to be believed.  The scalloped potatoes, glazed
carrots, and steamed asparagus tips were all perfect.  Of course, the only
reason I knew what those dishes were called was because Cindy told us what she
was serving as she brought it out.

      A half hour after dinner (by necessity - I was stuffed) dessert was
served.  Baked Alaska, flambe style.  If dear old perverted Mr. Small was
trying to impress me, he succeeded.  His house was huge, it was impressive, it
was tastefully furnished, and it reeked of style and suave upper classness.  I
found out later that everything, from the decorating to the landscaping, was
orchestrated and arranged by other people.  All Dick did was get the right
person to do the right job, and spend money.

      Afterwards, we sat in the drawing room, making small talk, discussing
little things about work and customers.  Nothing important, and nothing crude.
I had no idea what he was trying to do.  He did manage to pump two good-sized
glasses of wine into me, and since I don't normally drink much, that got me
feeling pretty mellow.

      We were joined by Cindy and Tanya around eight or so, after they had
finished all the cleanup.

      Tanya was very much different from Cindy, and actually looked a little
like me, body wise.  She was younger, maybe nineteen or twenty, taller, and a
little thicker overall with slightly smaller breasts, but her general look was
quite similar to mine.  She was also quite fit and trim, with no excess fat,
had long legs, and a cover girl face.  Her hair was long and black, hanging
down almost to her bottom, and her eyes were a matching dark, dark brown.
Where my lips were bow shaped, sometimes pouting, sometimes smiling a little,
hers were wide, thick, and expressive, and were at that moment trembling in
between neutrality and a grimace.  Because of her otherwise narrow, darkly
tanned features, her mouth looked even larger and fuller.

      It was after the two of them showed up that Dick showed his true colours.

      "Stand up and move to the centre of the room."

      With a small, nervous sigh, I did so.  My arms were trembling and my
knees felt weak.  He had me turn around slowly, showing off the new dress I'd
bought at his instruction.  It was a mini, in black satin, with spaghetti
straps, a low cut front, and a full, loose skirt.  Standing still and straight,
it barely reached to mid thigh. Every time I moved or leaned, more showed.
Again, if I bent too far, the tops of my charcoal stockings, and the red
garters, would show.  He liked it, a lot.  The cut and style of the dress
precluded wearing a bra, so he had been treated to some delightful jiggling all
evening.

      "Cindy, if you would do the honours?"

      The brunette came over to me, running her fingertips around on my stomach
and ass as she circled.  She traced the edge of my dress, from one shoulder,
down deep into my cleavage, then up to the other shoulder.  Her touch continued
over the other side and down my back, down to where the zipper was located.

      "Stand still, Jane."

      Dick's order was hard to follow when I felt Cindy's lips on the side of
my neck, and even harder when her tongue traced the outline of my ear from the
top down to my earring.  She unzipped the dress and let it fall to my feet.  I
was now half naked, topless in front of three people.  Cindy had me step out of
my dress, which she hung on the back of a chair.  With a nod from Dick, she
stepped up behind me, reached around, and started fondling my breasts.  It felt
good, but I was far too nervous to enjoy her ministrations.  The fear of the
unknown was strong, and not even having a suspicion about what would happen
made that fear much more real and palpable.

      It was harder to ignore her lips wandering up and down my neck and across
my shoulders.  I didn't want to enjoy her touches at all, because I wasn't that
sort of a girl, but still, my body liked the sensations.

      Next, she removed my stockings.  Her hands travelled all over both legs
during the procedure, stimulating me, trying to get me aroused.  There was a
little bit of success, but not much.  I was able to ignore any real pleasure
coming from her touch.  She then unsnapped and removed my garter belt, and
finally pulled off my panties.  Her lips left a trail of kisses down both
cheeks and the backs of my legs, chasing those sheer black nylon panties as
they fell.

      Finally she left me alone, and I opened my eyes.  They had closed when
Cindy first started touching me.  What I saw made me gasp. Dick was sitting on
the couch, and Tanya, still dressed in skirt and blouse, was sitting in his
lap.  Judging by the movements they were making, and by the expressions on
their faces, he was buried to the hilt in her pussy.

      "Kiss her," was his instructions to Cindy.  I complained, stating flat
out that I wasn't going to.  I was now deathly afraid of what that man could do
to me.  His confidence, the aura of power around him, there, in his house,
surrounded by his slaves (that's what I'd decided those two women were) was
incredible.  Ideas of flight ran through my mind, but were quickly dismissed as
ridiculous.

      He sighed, then spoke to me.

      "Jane, let's get one thing straight, here and now.  Until this business
between us is settled, you are my slut, and you will do anything I tell you,
regardless of how you feel personally.  Is that understood?"

      My vehement protests were ignored, and probably sounded a little funny to
him, coming from a woman standing naked in the middle of the room, while he was
busy fucking someone else.  When I told him that I had limits he couldn't push
me across no matter what, he smiled.  It was ugly.

      "Cindy, darling, would you please play the tape I gave you earlier. Jane
needs some education."

      The brunette lead me into another room where a big screen TV and
entertainment system occupied centre stage.  She popped in a tape, hit the
start button, and everything came to life.  It took me a few seconds to orient
myself and to realize what was playing. I recognized myself.  I recognized Tim
Wakefield.  There was no way I could tell who the third person was, even though
I knew it was Dirty Dick (my new name for that bastard).  He'd somehow managed
to video tape the scene in his office.  It was with horrified fascination that
I watched myself practically swallow Tim's cock, while I was squirming and
squealing with pleasure.  For many minutes I stood there, staring at the
screen.  It was very apparent when Tim climaxed, and my throat moved with
obvious swallowing motions.  When my climax hit on the screen, my entire body
throbbed in sympathy with the remembered ecstasy.

      Cindy took my hand and guided me back into the other room.  At some point
during the show, she'd stripped naked without me noticing. The expression on my
face told Dick everything he needed to know.

      "Kiss her," he told the brunette again.

      I didn't do anything to stop her.  All my resistance was gone.  If John
saw that tape, he'd die.  If he didn't, he'd kill me for sure. I was completely
roped in, and my boss knew it.  The sick bastard.

      When the kiss came, it was tender, soft, and delicate, a light touch of
lip on lip.  Her breath was warm and sweet, not at all like the swine busy
rutting not more that ten feet from where I stood.  She was slightly shorter
than me, so she stood on her toes to reach me properly, and kissed me once
more.  Her tongue tasted my lips, teasingly sliding in a fraction of an inch
before disappearing.  I made no move to help or hinder, letting her do as she
would.

      Again she kissed me, a little more firmly, pushing her tongue under my
lips, exploring, testing the waters, as it were.  While her mouth held my
attention, her hands began wandering, searching out all the tender and
sensitive spots that could drive me wild.  She found many - her lips, her eyes,
her naked breasts, sensing the involuntary little shudders, the tiny gasps, the
slightest tensing of muscles, that betrayed her successes.

      With a last lick at my lips, she stepped behind me, snaking her arms
under mine to hold me in a light hug.  Moist kisses started trailing across my
shoulders and neck, then down my sides and back. With an effort, I closed my
eyes to the scene Dick and Tanya were making, then tuned their noises out of my
consciousness.  Ignoring what Cindy was doing turned out to be far more
difficult.  She hadn't missed a single erotic spot on the way down from my neck
to my bottom.  Her hands, never idle, had kept up their slow, insidious attack,
and her lips and tongue were now sensitizing broad swaths of my posterior.  I
was far from impervious to her attentions.

      I tried to think of other things.  I tried desperately to hold onto what
my mother had drummed into me over and over again - that anything other than
husband and wife coupling in the missionary position was dirty and horrid,
evil, and a sin in God's eyes.  Her teachings were crumbling before an
onslaught of pure, sensual feeling.  My will, my resistance, was fading.  It's
all right, a tiny voice in the back of my head said.  You have no choice in the
matter, so you might as well enjoy it.  A fresh wave of guilt swept over me,
temporarily drawing me back from the brink, but two hands, expertly tracing
lines of fire through my groin and along my upper thighs, soon had me ready to
topple into the abyss once more.

      With a delicate, sensuous touch, and the patience of a saint, she teased
and caressed my body.  Her seduction was subtle, sweet, and almost impossible
to resist.  Magical fingers, palms, lips, tongue, even hair, combined to pull
me into another world, one where nothing but she and I existed.

      Almost imperceptively my breathing grew faster and shallower, my breasts
swelled and nipples grew hard, my arms began to shake slightly, and my knees
grew weak.  Slowly I was giving in to her manipulations, slowly she was
winning.  The feeling of inevitability grew, and the near certainty of her
success grew with it.  My mouth dried, my tongue darted out to lick my lips,
and my cleft started getting moist.  My insides felt like they were melting.

      Along the front of my thighs her hands moved, then outwards and upwards,
over my hips and along the ridges of my pelvis.  Then down, around, and back up
over my bottom.  Her tongue traced the outline of my bottom cheeks, then she
began a nuzzling, with her cheeks against mine.

      When her hands nudged my knees apart, and then drew upwards along my
inner thighs to begin tracing the outlines of my sex, I was lost.  I was hers
to do with as she pleased.  Nothing was left of my objections, of my sanity.
She had won.

      Cindy pulled me down to the floor, onto my back, to rest against the
soft, thick carpeting.  Somewhere in my mind I was glad to be lying down, since
I had been in danger of collapsing.  With a slight movement, and a hint of
pressure on my knees, she shifted into the space between my thighs.  Rather
than going straight to the heart of the matter, she once again delayed, moving
her attentions upwards, pausing slightly at my breasts, finally arriving at my
mouth.

      She kissed me, and I kissed her back.  thats when it happened thats when
hertongue finally reach edit's goal,when it tickled places unreachableby
noormal humanbeingssssssssssssssssssssssssss.

      Her tongue, her incredible tongue, reached half way down my throat, into
places never before explored.  The sheer sensuality of what she did sent me
over into a small, explosive orgasm.  Her kiss, and her prehensile tongue, did
it to me. The visions of what she could do when she finally reached my middle
almost set me off again.  I heard moaning, and slowly came to realize it was
me.

      I could feel her lips on mine.  I could feel her breasts, nipples as hard
as my own, pressing into my chest, the heat of them burning holes right through
me.  I could feel the moist warmth of her groin slowly grinding up and down
along my hip.  I could feel her stomach, fluttering and moving with each
breath, pressing into mine.  I could feel her heart beating, the cadence as
fast and as excited as my own.  But her tongue, sliding around, over, under my
own, exploring my mouth, inviting my own, tasting and teasing, into her, that
is what changed my world.

      After an eternity of learning, of touching, of my hands exploring her
body, she swung around, then pulled me on top of her.  With precision and
practiced skill, she'd manoeuvred me into the classic sixty-nine position, with
her on the bottom.  I was now nose-and-mouth to groin with her sex (my eyes
were still closed). Her first teasing licks, along my innermost thighs, sent
shivers through my body.  Without hesitation, despite never before even
touching another woman's genitals, I copied her actions.  I don't remember any
taste or smell from then, just touch - and her skin was soft, smooth, warm, and
silky, all at once.

      For an age, she explored the outer areas of my labia, and I travelled
around hers.  The anticipation, the expectation,the waiting, alltook their
toll.  Andthen - and then,her tongue, thaat tong ue,slith ereditsway
ayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.

      That tongue, her tongue, entered me, parted my lips, sought my centre,
invaded my being.  It discovered places, tasted things, swirled and twirled,
and drove me almost insane.  I tried my best to copy her, but I was only gifted
with a normal human reach. Besides which, my whimpers and twitches interfered
with my concentration.  My vagina contracted down onto her invading muscle in
waves, trying to draw it in deeper and deeper.  Then she began to lick
something, way up inside, and that feeling drove all thought, all other
sensation, out of my mind.  A high, keening noise, originating from somewhere
deep inside my body, surrounded me.  She continued, and my insides melted, then
exploded.  Waves of pure sensation overwhelmed me, tearing me from the normal
world.

      I think I fainted.

      When consciousness returned, I was still whimpering, and her tongue was
doing a slow twirl around my clit.  She was letting me back into reality, but
only on her terms.

      I began a slow, gentle licking of her furrow, from it's start, down over
her clit, and into her hole.  I repeated the move, over, and over, and over
again.  She seemed to like it.

      There was an intrusion, an anomaly, a disturbance in our self-contained
little world.  Something cold, wet, and slippery splashed against my anus.  Her
arms held my thighs tight, her knees held my head close.  Something else
pressed me down.  A few seconds later, something huge, hot, and insistent
pressed against my sphincter and started forcing its way inside.  It hurt!
With the pain, normal thought returned, and the sensual world Cindy had so
carefully built dissolved into nothingness.  I was back in mundane reality.  It
was then I realized that I was about to be anally raped by Dirty Dick.  That
name now held a double meaning in my mind.  He pushed, I moaned, he pushed
again, I whimpered, he pushed some more, burst inside, and I screamed with the
pain.  Lubricated or not, his was the first thing inside me that was larger
than a thermometer. He was huge, and I was certain that he had split me open
and I was bleeding to death.

      With time, penetration, and the application of more lubricant, the pain
diminished, but didn't go away.  He thrust in and out for a while, building up
both speed and depth of stroke, until he shuddered, roared, and let go,
slamming into my bottom with a series of bruising jerks.  Things were suddenly
much looser and wetter in my rectum than they had been, so I believed that he'd
finished.

      When he pulled out, he tried to pull my head up by the hair.  The thought
of what he seemed to want sickened me, right to the lowest level of my gut.
Instead of even acknowledging his attempt, I tightened my grip on Cindy's
thighs, pushed deep into her cleft, and fastened my lips to her clit.  Sucking
and licking on that was far, far preferable to any alternative Dirty Dick
(shudder) was thinking of.  After a few more half-hearted tries, he gave up and
left us alone for a while.  The filthy bastard.

      I carried on with what I was doing, ignoring the pain in my butt.
Eventually, my senses of taste and smell returned.  I discovered that her
flavour and odour, while distinctive and sharp, were not at all unpleasant, not
like I had imagined at all.  I believed that, like oysters, sucking her clit
was something I could learn to enjoy for its own sake, never mind the obvious
effect my attentions were having on the owner.  Her tongue was busy as well.
Licking on parts of me that I wouldn't have touched without gloves on at that
point, she managed to assuage a great deal of the pain Dirty Dick had caused.

      With wiggling hips, panting breath, and insistent thrusts, she made her
state of arousal known.  I didn't stop until she literally squeezed me away by
pulling her legs together.  Her deep, irregular breathing, alternately warming
and cooling my inner self, made my hips twitch in sympathy.  The pain in my ass
toned down any fresh arousal, however, and I soon rolled over onto my back.

      My eyes focused on the scene being played out on the couch.  Dick was
there, now naked, leaning back with his hips shoved forward. Tanya was also
naked, on all fours, giving him the blow job of a lifetime, if her energetic
movements were anything to go by.  I could see that she was even better looking
naked than she was with clothes on.  There were no tan lines to be seen,
anywhere on her body.  Her dark brown areolae, capped with two hard, finger tip
sized nipples, were completely surrounded by darkly tanned skin. Down lower, I
could see no pubic hair whatsoever, and her mound and lips looked to be just as
deeply tanned as the rest.

      Dirty Dick noticed that I was back with the real world.  He pulled the
raven-haired beauty off his member, stood, and walked over to where I was
lying.  Crouching down out of my sight, he grabbed twin handfuls of my hair and
tilted my head back.  His cock was large, hard, and in my face.  I had no
resistance left.  All I could do was whimper in protest.  When he pushed, I
opened my mouth and let him in.  He raped my throat.  It didn't hurt nearly as
much as when he raped my ass, but there would be soreness in the morning.  With
the different angle he was using, his glans reached deeper than it normally
did, accounting for the pain.

      A few dozen strokes later, his cock got bigger, harder, and longer,
signaling his incipient orgasm.  When it came, I choked and swallowed, and
swallowed, and swallowed, then it was all over for him, for the evening.  At
least, it was between him and I.  He looked carefully for any evidence of
spilled or wasted semen, but found none.  A rather hateful expression washed
across his face.  He got up, grabbed a somewhat fearful looking Tanya, and
dragged her off to another part of the mansion.

      A sigh brought my attention back to the other occupant of the room. Cindy
stood up, stretched, wiggled her bottom, and started straightening up the room,
collecting clothes as she did.  I was feeling a delicious lethargy, and was
content to lay on the carpet and do nothing for a while.  It was thick, soft,
and delightfully warm.  She minced off with one batch of apparel, swinging her
backside to and fro.  When she returned, she set about her task again, picking
up the remnants of her and my clothing.  Once again she disappeared for a few
minutes before returning to finish her chore.

      Eventually she looked at me - or rather, at the spot my feet occupied.

      "Ma ... Mr. Small has a room set aside for you, for the night ... if you
wish."

      Her words said one thing, but her inflection, her tone, said something
else.  I wasn't sure what that something was, though I had some wild
suspicions.

      "If I wish.  But ... ?"

      Her stare, directed at my toes, intensified, as did her nervousness.

      "If you wish.  Or, you could ... stay ... with me?"

      Her voice faltered at the end, changing to a squeak.  I couldn't tell if
she was more afraid of me saying yes, or saying no.  Her eyes flickered to mine
for only the briefest instant, then returned to her inspection of the region
around my toes.  There was something hiding behind those tightly veiled eyes,
something intense, and I wasn't sure that I wanted to find out what it was.

      The conditioning of a lifetime surged within me, along with my mother's
words and teachings, my inner voice, the comments made by other girls all
through high school and college, thoughts of my wedding vows, and my commitment
to John.  They all joined together in a great surge, warring against the
strange atmosphere in that house, the new, powerful feelings racing through my
soul, and the memories of how Cindy had made wonderful love with me .  The
battle was brief, but intense, and there was no clear victor.

      In a whispering voice, I spoke.

      "I will stay with you."

                                   **********

      Morning brought with it strange feelings, dreamlike memories, and harsh
inner thoughts.  The one thing missing, the one thing that I thought would be
dominant over everything else, was any sense of guilt for sleeping with Cindy.

      Admittedly, after going to bed, all we did was kiss, snuggle, and fall
asleep in each other's arms, but that should have been enough to trigger
feelings of remorse as deep and as wide as any I had ever known.  Yet nothing.

      Her kiss, her gentle caress, were what woke me.  I brushed her cheek with
the back of my finger, looked into her eyes for an instant, smiled, and kissed
her forehead.  She smiled back, then wiggled into a closer embrace and seemed
to fall back to sleep. That left me with my own, very personal, struggle.

      The brief look in her eyes that morning showed me the same intense
something that had been there the previous night.  I recognized it for what it
was, though, because I felt the same thing deep inside myself, and it was the
cause of an internal conflict the likes of which I had never known.

      I loved John, my husband.  I had loved him since shortly after we first
met.  He was my one true love - I had said so many times.  I had taken vows and
had committed myself to a lifetime of love with him.  I knew, also, that he
loved me just as deeply.

      All that, and a lifetime of learning, were at war within me because,
without the slightest doubt whatsoever, I knew I was in love with Cindy in the
same way.  It's impossible, my brain screamed.  It's sick, my mother's voice
cried.  You're a sinner, and you'll burn in hell, my old priest's voice
shouted.

      "I love you," whispered Cindy, drowning out all the other voices.

      "I love you too," I whispered back.  Our lips met, out tears mingled, and
we held each other tight against the storm of the world.

      Shortly thereafter, Dirty Dick appeared, and his voice tore through all
our imaginings and hopes and dreams.  His iron hard, cold words spurred us back
into his harsh here and now.

      "You, slut, get breakfast.  Now!" he growled, staring at Cindy. She got
up and ran from the room, still naked.

      "You, slut, don't move," he said, staring at me.  I froze.  He climbed
onto the bed, forcing himself between my legs, and started licking.  His tongue
seemed hard, harsh, and impatient in comparison, yet the physical stimulation
was still there.  I got moist enough for him to be satisfied.  The immediate,
forceful penetration was still painful, and his thrusts were more so.  He still
damned well hurt!  Thankfully, he was just as quick to finish as ever and
filled me within a few minutes.

      Some sort of strange thought rolled through his brain about then, and I
have no idea where it came from.  His question, while pertinent, seemed several
weeks late.

      "You are on the pill, aren't you."

      I just looked at him.  No, I wasn't on the pill.

      "You're not on the pill?"  I shook my head, no.

      "You're wearing a diaphragm?"  Again, I shook my head, no.

      "Are you using protection of any kind?  An IUD?  You've had your tubes
tied?"  Once more, I shook my head, no.

      "Jesus H. Christ, you're ripe to get knocked up!"  He was almost
instantly hard again, plunging deep inside and humping away like a madman.  His
previous spendings lubricated me enough that he no longer caused frictional
pain, but his hard pounding was starting to bruise other parts of my anatomy.

      His mind must have gone somewhere strange, because he climaxed again very
quickly, and I felt him pulse quite a few times, as if he were sending out a
great number of spurts of semen.

      When he pulled out, he stared at me for a few minutes before speaking.

      "I'm gonna fill you so full of spunk, you'll be having my kids for then
next twenty years."  His voice was low and intense, and his look was equally
so.  Then he turned and left.  By the large amount of leakage I felt, he had
been quite prolific.

      I didn't bother to disabuse him of his erroneous belief.  No, I wasn't on
the pill, or using any kind of protection.  There was no need.  When I was
thirteen, I had a fever.  A week later, I was in the hospital.  Two days later,
trying to save my life, they operated.  I survived, but parts of me didn't.
John knew, along with only a handful of other people.  It wasn't the type of
thing you told to co-workers or casual acquaintances.  Or people like Dirty
Dick.

      We ate breakfast in the dining room, all quite naked.  Dick looked like
he'd been licked clean, probably by Tanya.  I was leaking all over the chair,
but he didn't seem to care.  In fact, he acted delighted at the sight of his
juice seeping out of my slot.  His good humour sparked some careful smiles from
Both Cindy and Tanya.

      After we finished, he let me clean up, and then had me model all the
lingerie I'd purchased.  His good mood stayed, so he was apparently satisfied
with what I'd bought.  We were all dressed again, sitting in the drawing room,
and Dick was making small talk.  Nobody else was participating but he didn't
seem to care.  I asked a very important question, and he looked delighted that
I had asked.  At least, he took great delight in answering.

      "Dick, how long is this business between you and me going to last?"

      The smile on his face got huge, hard, and nasty.

      "Well, the way I figure it, with the right judge and prosecutor, you'd
probably go to jail for five years.  So, our business will be over and done
with in five years."

      I stared at him, unbelievingly.  His hard, malevolent eyes left no doubt
that he was telling me his version of the truth.  When I burst into tears, he
laughed, long and hard, and left the room. Cindy and Tanya both tried to
comfort me, to no avail.  I was inconsolable.  To be tied to that monster for a
half a decade? Through the best years of my life?  For a few fleeting moments I
considered suicide, but the look in Cindy's eyes, and the thought of what such
an act would do to John, made me forget those urges.

      Some time later in the afternoon I departed, and made my way home.
There's no memory left in me as to what I told John, or what we said or did, or
anything.  All I remember is the awful, hollow feeling that had settled deep in
the pit of my stomach.

                                   **********

      The following week went pretty much the same as the previous one had, as
far as I can remember, except that we went to Tim Wakefield's office for his
blow job, rather than him coming to Dick's.  I asked my boss about that, and he
said we owed him one more, and then the slate was clean.  I became ill at lunch
time, the thought of doing that again having a nasty effect on my innards.

      The week after that, I was 'invited' to stay overnight at Dick's for a
Tuesday night.  John accepted whatever lame excuse I came up with, and never
mentioned anything more.  He seemed, at least on the surface, to be content
with the new, much more libidinous, me.  I even shocked him one evening by
giving him a blow job on the couch. I still didn't swallow, but the sheer
novelty of the event rocked him to his core.  He told me so.

      On the Tuesday, I took a change of clothes with me to work, and went
straight to Dick's afterwards.  He drove.  The change of clothes was rather
redundant, since by then I had acquired a half dozen different, rather sexy
outfits, all hanging in Dick's storage room.  I took them for John's benefit.

      Dick himself cooked dinner, since there was nobody there except the two
of us, at least for the early part of the evening.  He was an adequate chef.  I
was better, John was better, and I won't even try to compare Tanya's abilities
with his.  We ate, made some idiot conversation, and basically wasted time
until nine.  That's when his visitors arrived, and the reason for my being
there became apparent.

      Two men came in, both Spanish-looking, both speaking with an accent.
Neither spoke to me, only about me, and looked at me like an object. I suppose
that's what they took me to be.  That's certainly how they treated me.  Dick
had me strip in front of them, as sexily as possible.  They both made rude
comments, both in English and in their native tongue, about what a fine body I
had, what a pretty face, and what a lucky guy Dick was to own a slut like me.
I smiled pretty, even though I felt like puking all over them.  It was a
horrible night.

      First the taller, uglier one fucked me.  He hurt, especially when he bit
my nipples.  The other one hurt too, only it was when he bruised my lips when
forcing his mouth on mine.  He smoked, and the taste in his mouth was horrid.
Then the first one buggered me, with no lubrication, and laughed at my screams
of pain.  Dick stuck his cock in my mouth to shut me up, since I was annoying
the other guy. When those two finished, the other guy took me in the ass,
bruising me even more, and choked me to stop my screaming.  For a while I was
afraid for my life.  While my hands were busy trying to force the second guy's
fingers apart enough so I could breathe, the first guy slapped around my
breasts.  He told Dick that he liked the way they jiggled, and loved the way
the red marks showed up so beautifully on my lightly tanned tits.

      By they time they finished, I was a wreck, emotionally and physically.
They'd fulfilled their hedonistic fantasies, and I'd paid the price.  I crawled
upstairs to the room I had shared with Cindy, had a short, hot, painful shower,
then fell into a fitful slumber.

      Some time early in the morning I was awakened by someone crawling into my
bed.  It was the second guy.  He clamped a hand over my mouth to stop me from
screaming, then proceeded to rape me.  It hurt horribly.  Then he bit my left
breast, on the side, very hard. That hurt even worse, and I could tell that the
bruises and marks would be visible for weeks.  I cried, and the guy snickered
as he walked away.

      When Dick saw the teeth marks in the morning, he told me I must have done
something to make the guy mad, and that it was my own fault. I'd have to live
with the consequences.  I cried some more, so he slapped me across the face,
hard enough to leave fingerprints.

      Work was difficult.  Facing John that night was even more difficult.
Somehow I managed to keep him from noticing the bruises.

      Thursday, I was told by Dirty Dick that I'd be spending another Saturday
night at his place, except that it would be from breakfast on.  He had some
fresh visitors to entertain.

      The scum sucking bastard!

      John was upset, and I didn't blame him, but I simply couldn't tell him
the truth.  Not if I wanted to keep him.  The thought of lying to him for five
years, though, almost made me break down.  Almost.

      ********************************************************************

