DISCLAIMER:- The following text is sexually explicit and contains depictions of sexual acts that have been classified by the surgeon general as potentially dangerous and unhealthy. You must be a broad minded adult to read the text, and you must not make this text available to minors or to any person who does not wish to view it. Unprotected sexual relations with unknown partners is hazardous and we urge the use of condoms and safe sex at all times.

Sometimes Kate Harridan thought *Milly* was the cause of her headaches, the way
her administrative assistant went on and on, urging her boss to see a doctor
about the trivial ailment. Milly ought to have been working for Kate long
enough to know by now she *always* got headaches when she was under stress. And
Lord knows she had cause enough for stress. Just moving the headquarters of NAG
(National Association of Grrrls), the organization Kate had founded, from San
Francisco to Washington was stressful enough. Then the disasters began.

The movers had hardly finished putting all the ficuses in place when the Finger
scandal broke. Carol Finger, yes, Senator Finger herself, was caught in a
sexual liaison with one of her hunky interns. "Sexual liaison" hell, the
Senator was getting her lights fucked out daily if not more often. Truth be
told, Carol Finger had never been a credit to the World's Greatest Deliberative
Body, but she was on NAG's Board of Directors and the organization had to back
her up. Always ready with a faux feminist rationale for her erratic positions
on issues, Carol compiled an amazingly inconsistent and self-serving voting
record.

The disclosure that Senator Finger was having sex with a boy half her age was
bad enough. Worse was the grainy photo obtained by the other party showing the
plump, middle-aged woman draped over an arm chair, short red skirt up around her
waist and red panties down around her ankles, being skewered to her obvious
delight by a muscular blonde. The President's picture above the desk smiled
down in apparent approbation, or was it envy?

The Senator made everything ten time worse, however, at the news conference she
gave to announce her resignation from the Senate. Kate had read the transcript
and seen the video enough times to have the gut-wrenching performance memorized.
The rhetorical low points were burned into her memory.

"Hell, yes, I'm having an affair with this gorgeous boy and I sure don't intend
to apologize for it," the Senator declared. "That's the difference between men
and real Grrrls. I do *not* beg forgiveness from my husband and family and this
has definitely *not* made my marriage to the wimp stronger. In fact, I'm going
to divorce his ass! And for all you school marms of whatever profession that
`can't understand' how a woman of `my age' can take up with a twenty year old
stud-muffin, let me spell it out for you. S-E-X. Is that clear enough? Let me
be more specific. T-E-N _ I-N-C-H _ C-O-C-K. Need more? How about, T-H-R-E-E
_ I-N-C-H _ D-I-A-M-E-T-E-R? I've got the boy putting the wood to me like I
haven't gotten it in years and damned if I'm going to give him up."

"Take it from me, Grrrls, get your self one of these," she proclaimed lustily,
reaching over to fondle the erection of the handsome young man standing beside
her, smiling even though he was a little dim to fully comprehend what was going
on. "Stop grinding up the contraband Viagra in the old fart's oatmeal at night.
It's not doing either of you any good," she admonished. "Loose some lard
ladies, get those titties a silicone upgrade if they need it, buy yourself a few
hot little minis, and wiggle your ass down to the nearest sports bar. I
guarantee within a week you'll be getting your pussy plowed or I'll let you have
Arnold for a night. If you are lucky, you might even find a plowman who can
remember which morning to take out the garbage, but don't hold your breath.
Remember, Grrrls, there's just one thing a man's good for. If he's well
equipped between his legs, don't worry about what he's got between his ears."

"There is, however, one particularly disgusting canard out there, that I must
most emphatically deny. I did *not* let my fuck toy `get me pregnant.' I got
this," Carol paused for effect and lifted her obscenely short skirt to display a
telling bulge in her panties, "Because *I* threw away the pills. *I* decided on
the best dates. *I* locked him in the hotel room and kept the pillows under my
ass. *I* made sure he gave me frequent re-fills of jizz all weekend long. I'm
having this baby because *I* guided his big cock into me and made him shoved it
farther down into my fertile womb than he ever had before. Arnold, the dear,
just supplied the semen, one thing he can do very well." Arnold grinned,
suspecting the nice woman had said something good about him again.

Ex-Senator Finger had gone on for twenty minutes in that vein. It had been a
public relations catastrophe ending with the horrific finale. "Therefore I am
resigning my seat in the United States Senate. Not because I am ashamed of
myself, but because there isn't a man there who can fuck worth a damn -- and the
women aren't much better. I don't have time to listen to windbags when I could
be on my back getting a prong where it belongs. And so adieu and fuck yieu!"
she concluded giving the middle finger salute for the nation's television
cameras.

The furor over l'affaire Finger had barely died down when NAG was embarrassed to
learn that Wonder Woman was out of service. For some time it had been damned
hard to get in touch with her. The Army's main contact with the superheroine,
Diana Prince, was spending every free hour shacked up with Col. Steve Trevor
and had the little round tummy to prove it.

When the lovebirds could at last be prevailed upon to call in Wonder Woman, it
was revealed just why the superheroine had been keeping out of sight. Although
the Amazonian Princess wasn't telling who had done the deed, America's first
line of defense had irresponsibly let some man put a bun in her oven and her
doctor didn't allow her to travel. Consequently, the US military had to deal
with a rogue faction of the Ruritanian Defense Force without the assistance of
its superheroine. It was close run thing.

Finally, although it was not a crisis, Kate became increasingly aware of the
subtly hostile atmosphere to NAG's agenda in the Washington social milieu. Kate
had expected to find Washington full of sour women -- hard-bitten lawyers,
disgruntled NGO executives, and angry consultants -- eager to become NAGs.
Instead, every time she turned around Kate heard another story of a professional
woman who suddenly quit her job to become a happy little sex kitten for her
boyfriend and promptly got herself knocked up or one who had to give up her
career when she "accidentally" let her husband make her pregnant again.
Hundreds of women with children in college were waddling around in maternity
dresses again or were back to washing diapers. Some were doing both. Olivia
Fuentes in NAGs Research department confirmed that the birth rate among upper
middle class women ages 30-45 in the Washington metropolitan area was almost
double the national average and was still shooting up.

The queen bee of these "New Feminists," as she dubbed them, was Angelica Lopez,
the new editor of the Post's "Style" section. And Angelica made no secret whom
she considered to be the "Old Feminists." Angelica was an odd bird, Kate
thought. Admittedly she had a strong claim to being a feminist. She was a
successful young woman with a six figure income and a handsome, slavish husband
whom she kept home to look after the house -- and the kids. That was the odd
part. Angelica had five children under four and was pregnant again. She filled
"Style" with stories about having sex and having babies. Thousands of readers
adored Angelica, but unfortunately, had rather less supportive husbands than
their icon. So when their bellies started getting big, they were the ones who
stayed home to care for the little shoot.

No, Kate didn't come by her headaches gratis. She had to admit, though, that
Milly might have a point. Her assistant did seem so happy and full of life
since her visit to Dr. Bock. Maybe it was a good thing NAG had selected him.
Several women doctors had bid for the contract to be NAG's Preferred Provider of
gynecological and (Ha!) obstetric services, but Bock's price was just too good.
Moreover, Carol Finger and Milly, who had been on the selection committee, had
returned singing the praises of the Bock Clinic. Grudgingly, Kate told the
eager AA to make an appointment for her the next week.

This made Milly very happy. Although she knew Kate would not understand the
recent changes in her life, much less approve of them, Milly was convinced
somehow that the visit to Dr. Bock had been a turning point. Although she
could not remember much about what happened there, since her appointment Milly
had blossomed socially. To be more exact, were Milly not such a little lady,
one would say she had turned into a cock hound!

Like many women who discover the joys of sex a little tardily, Milly focused on
the basics, seeking to make up for lost time. Candles at dinner were an
unnecessary expense and wine, however useful for getting a guy into bed,
interfered with good service once she had him there. Experience had taught her
that a big plate of pasta before the main event and Gatorade, kept by the
bedside for pit stops, were all that was needed for the kind of strenuous
lovemaking she demanded.

Milly was not yet much into romance. Her idea of a long term relationship was a
guy who would pick her up at work on Friday afternoon and would still be
performing to spec Monday morning when she reluctantly made him climb off and go
home so she could get ready for work. Sadly, Milly had not yet found the man
she was looking for, so she made do with a team. A major league manager
planning his pitching rotation for the playoffs had nothing on Milly's
strategizing her boyfriend schedule according to her moods and social occasions.

Primus inter pares was Horse, the Washington Wizards' center who was hung like a
... well, the eponymous farm animal. Carlos was a dance instructor whose
introduction of the movements of Salsa, Cumbia, and the Meringue into his
frenetic lovemaking more than compensated for his small stature. Wentworth was
a pleasant looking banker, rich as sin, and not too bad in the sack. He had his
uses. The sleeper of the group was Albert who worked at National Science
Foundation. He was terribly bright and didn't look so goofy now that Milly had
convinced him to get contact lenses. Albert was still a bit of a nerd, but
Milly decided must have a Ph.D. in the geography of erogenous zones and had
perhaps done some post-doctoral work in cunnilingus. He could get her off so
well with his fingers and his mouth, Milly only fucked him to be a good sport
... and because his prick was almost as big as Horse's.

Amaka was also happy to get Milly's call that Ms Harridan would be coming for a
visit and immediately informed James. "You handle her honey. After all, she
*is* a feminist." Emboldened by James's confidence in her, Amaka did a little
research on her patient-to -be. Although Kate had written several books, the
locus classicus of her anti-male ideology was, "Forget It!" This screed was
mainly famous for Kate's aphorism, that "a woman needs a man like a fish needs a
bicycle."

When Amaka saw Kate's scowling face, she knew this was not going to be easy.
She decided that the best approach would be a respectful, businesslike tone.
"Since you're a new patient, Ms Harridan, I'll need to get some preliminary
information."

"I assumed that that was the purpose of having me fill out the form," Kate icily
replied.

"You're quite right," Amaka assured her, wanting to get her into at least a
semi-
cooperative mood as quickly as she could. "All the basic, standard information
is on the form, and of course I won't waste your time asking you to repeat it.
All I need to do now is get some more details medical history, and because so
many questions are contingent on other questions, it's a lot faster and more
efficient to do that in an interview."

Kate seemed to accept this common sense explanation, if reluctantly. She nodded
and said, "Very well."

"OK, glancing over what you put down, it looks like the only medical problem
you've had in the past several years has been headaches, is that right?"

"That's correct."

"No history of sinus trouble? Good eyesight? Has there been a change in your
symptoms recently?"

Kate answered the first two questions with a quick negative shake of her head.
"The headaches have been getting worse in the past few weeks. Well, I'm not
sure they're worse, just more frequent."

"I see. And has anything changed recently about your habits or your diet or
your environment at home or at work?"

"I keep telling my secretary it's stress, and I have certainly had to deal with
a good many problems recently. Unfortunately, stress is unavoidable in my
work."

"Do you anything to relax?"

"I don't have much time for relaxing." Kate's expression changed from sourness
and impatience to one of passionate zeal. "I don't know if you're aware of how
much ground the feminist movement has lost in the past few decades. It's all we
can do, those of us who still care about it, to keep things from sliding back
into the dark ages."

"The real crisis is that we women have ourselves given up the fight. A lot of
us have convinced ourselves that full-fledged feminism is extremist rather than
simply right. Some even take delight in being sex objects, living their lives
as if they were in some male fantasy. I don't suppose you've read Andrea
Dworkin?"

Amaka had in fact read some Dworkin, but she shook her head, not wanting to
extend the discussion if she could avoid it. But Kate seemed to be on a roll.

"Well, you should read Dworkin; she's a very important writer. But even Dworkin
is too tolerant for my tastes. Men have subjugated women for years, using them
for sexual pleasure and to make babies and to clean up after them. And look at
so-called women's magazines! What are they about? Babies, sex, and how to have
a pretty house! We're subjugating ourselves! Every time a woman has sex, she's
cooperating with the oppressor!"

This was not going the way Amaka had intended. She had meant to gradually steer
the discussion around to the need to relax, then either to the use of
tranquilizers or self-
hypnosis, which would give her the opening she needed to start this woman's
conditioning. But she couldn't help saying, "I've heard that Andrea Dworkin
says that any sex involving penetration is inherently sexist. Is that what you
mean?"

Kate shook her head emphatically. "No, Dworkin has that completely wrong.
That's a detail, mere symbolism. It isn't how you have sex, it's having sex at
all. Any kind of sex subjugates women to men!"

Amaka looked at her with real curiosity. "Well, what if there aren't any men
involved? What if it's just two gir -- two women? How can that o--"

Kate cut her off impatiently. "That's still sex, isn't it? Do you think that
makes any difference to a man? Men love the idea of lesbian sex! They like it
as much as they do male-female sex. Maybe more!"

Amaka opened her mouth to say something, but decided better of it. Reminding
herself that this was not going anywhere useful, so she decided to revert to her
original plan. "You make a very good point," she said, hoping agreement would
avoid extending the argument. "You're absolutely right. Your work is very
important. Vital. And I'm sure your headaches are interfering with your work,
so we had better do something about them."

"Yes," Kate agreed, putting her palm to her forehead and seeming to sag
slightly.

"Are you getting a headache now?" Amaka asked.

"Yes," Kate said. "I guess I got a little too intense." She looked up sharply.
"But it's important! Ow!"

Amaka stood up and moved behind the woman. She began massaging Kate's
shoulder's while trying to make it seem like an examination. The woman's
shoulder muscles felt like taut steel cables. "Ms Harridan," Amaka said, "I
believe that hypertension of the striated muscles might be at the root of your
sensitivity to stress. I would like to examine your staticodynamic
ligomusculature more thoroughly. Please remove your outer clothing and lie down
on the examining table."

Kate looked sourly doubtful. "I had assumed the doctor would examine me."

"And I'm sure he will," Amaka said with a second unstated meaning. "But I
assure you that I'm a qualified medical professional, although I'm sure I don't
have to tell you that, since you would not underrate the nursing profession
simply because it is traditionally female."

Kate seemed horrified by the very suggestion and quickly said, "Oh, of course
not. I, I simply was concerned about the time. But perhaps you're right."
Efficiently, and without the slightest sign of either shame or delight about the
process, she stripped to cotton briefs. No doubt all her bras were burned years
ago, Amaka told herself.

"OK, now if you'll just lie down here. No, face down, please. All right, now
tell me if I hurt you."

But of course she had no intention of hurting. Amaka massaged the woman's
shoulders, her back, her legs and arms, alternately gently and firmly, all the
while trying to make it seem like an examination despite the pleasure she was
sure she was provoking. Occasionally she allowed her large uniform-covered
breasts to brush against her patient's bare skin as if by accident, and she let
the tips of her fingers brush a few times against the sides of the woman's
breasts. Kate showed no suspicion of what Amaka was up to, but she did show
signs of responding and trying to conceal it. Amaka grinned inwardly, wondered
if this woman ever had a massage before. Probably not the sort of thing a tight
ass like her would go in for. May that was why she was reacting so well to this
one.

When Amaka shifted her attention to the surprisingly cute little ass, though,
she provoked a more negative reaction. "What are you doing?" Kate suddenly
demanded.

Sounding professional, Amaka said, "I'm sorry if I startled you. Headaches can
originate in primary or secondary muscle tension anywhere in the body, but
especially near the head and spine, and in particular with the larger muscles,
such as the gluteus maximus, here. I notice you seem to be particularly tense
around the base of the spine, and I really should examine the whole pelvic area
for my report."

Kate reluctantly let her press and feel her way around, and after a while the
ass muscles no longer clinched up when she touched them.

"How's your headache?" Amaka asked.

"Why, it's gone!" Kate sounded genuinely surprised.

"Good. Sometimes the physiological manipulation necessary for the examination
is itself therapeutic." Damn, she thought, she was starting to sound like what's
her name on ER. "In fact, I believe it would help establish a treatment
modality that I could report to the doctor if I tried one additional thing."

Amaka looked around for some oil but couldn't find any. "I'll be right back,"
she said as she hastened out of the room.

Kate lay there feeling better and almost relaxed. Perhaps her initial
skepticism of this nurse had been based upon some residual sexism. After all,
it pervaded society, and patriarchal values were passed on as much by mothers as
by fathers -- that was the insidiousness of it. She should have thought to
mention that in explaining how even lesbian sex could be oppressive of women, in
that it reflected the patriarchal socioeconomic system. Marx had been, in his
typical male way, wrong. It was not religion but sex that was the opiate of the
masses, especially the female masses, and as with any seemingly pleasurable
addictive drug it was best avoided.

The nurse came back with some sort of bottle. "This is a therapeutic
lubricating oil," she explained. "It will help me perform a palpatative
examination of the deeper musculature." Amaka neglected to mention that the oil
had several tranquilizers that would be absorbed through the skin mixed with it.
Since her close call with that tough Ms. Lopez, Amaka took no chances. Slowly,
she began to smooth the cool liquid on Kate's back.

Kate had found the initial examination pleasurable, almost embarrassingly so,
but when the nurse's oiled fingers began sliding over her, pressing gently here
and there, then stroking so lightly it was barely a touch, it felt incredible,
like nothing, well, like nothing she'd experienced in many years. It made it
hard to think. Perhaps she should make her stop, but that was silly, this was
simply a medical examination, even if it was a kind she wasn't familiar with.

"Excuse me, but I don't want to get oil on your panties," the nurse said, and
Kate felt them being pulled down to expose her posterior. The sensation of the
slippery hands examining her bare bottom was shocking to Kate, but she strove to
avoid showing any sign of it. Only when an oiled finger feeling about her
tailbone slipped briefly down between her cheeks did she start to say something.
It was over too quickly, before she could object, although not before it had
given her a strange and strangely pleasurable, frisson.

"Now please turn over," the nurse instructed, and Kate did so. The nurse put
more oil on her hands and proceeded to examine Kate's shoulders, neck, and
sides. Amaka moved to stand at the head of the examining table. Kate felt the
nurse's gentle fingers trail lightly across the muscles of her face and
forehead, then to the sides of her neck and her shoulders, then back to the
face. She felt much better and more relaxed, but she noticed that her nipples
seemed to be standing up. Much as she hated to admit it, Kate knew she was
becoming aroused.

The nurse said something Kate didn't catch. She realized that her eyes were
closed and she opened them. The nurse was leaning over her, her face upside
down from this angle, some sort of shiny amulet hanging from her neck and
swinging slightly.

"I want you to relax as much as you can, Ms Harridan. Based on the what I've
seen so far, I believe it's very likely that your headaches are a consequence of
general musculoskeletal hypertonality. It should respond well to treatment if
we know its full extent."

The skillful hands ranged more freely over Kate's body as the amulet swung over
her face, capturing her attention. Gradually Amaka moved to stand beside Kate's
head, one hand continuing to explore her upper body and the other straying lower
and lower in its gentle, pleasurable examination of the abdomen.

Kate felt herself drifting into almost a dream state, aware that she shouldn't
fall asleep in the examining room but too relaxed -- more relaxed than she had
been in years, she thought -- to really care. In fact, the nurse kept telling
her to relax, and she kept feeling herself do so more and more.

Almost in a daze she heard the nurse say, "Now, I need to check some interior
muscle tension, so don't be startled. This will only take a moment." And she
felt a lubricated finger slip gently into her vagina. The pleasurable shock was
intense and it was all Kate could do not to cry out or arch her back. The
finger moved around inside her, setting off little rockets of delight. Then it
began to pump in and out of her while the nurse kept telling her to relax,
relax, go to sleep for her, go to sleep, listen only to her voice ...

A weak thought that had for some time been in
the back of Kate's mind, one she had been refusing to listen to, suddenly
shouted its way into her consciousness. This wasn't any damned medical
examination. There was no medical reason for finger fucking. This was a
seduction attempt. This so-called nurse was trying to have sex with her, and a
lesser woman than Kate Harridan would have fallen into her trap!

"What the hell are you doing!" she spat out, trying to sit up.

The nurse, still standing beside her, looked a little surprised by the attempt
at resistance, but her hand didn't miss a stroke and Kate realized to her horror
that she half-wanted her to continue.

Amaka leaned over her, keeping Kate from rising, murmuring soothing instructions
to relax and as the pleasure between her legs increased, Kate felt the tenseness
draining out of her again against her will.

"Stop it!" Kate insisted, weakly trying to close her legs and push away the hand
that was robbing her of her will. "I know what you're doing and it isn't going
to work!"

"Isn't it?" Amaka asked sweetly. "I believe you've overlooked something about
sex. Just because men like sex doesn't mean it's bad for women. In fact, it's
a source of female power. I'm using it on you right now, and it's pretty
effective, wouldn't you say?"

"No, no That's lipstick feminism crap! All bullshit!" Kate replied foggily.
She was still trying to push the nurse's hand away from her, but she was at a
disadvantage half-lying in this position. Every time she managed to force the
nurse's hand away with both of hers, Amaka simply writhed her oiled hand free
and went back to what she was doing. Covering herself with her hands didn't
work either, because the nurse simply shifted the focus of her attack to Kate's
sensitive inner thighs or sides or breasts, and Kate was by now so turned on
that almost any contact with those skilled fingers sent involuntary thrills
through her.

This is crazy! Kate told herself. Why can't I fight this? I've had enough men
think they could seduce me, hoping to bag a feminist as a trophy, and those
stupid bastards never came close. What's this woman doing to me? Why can't I
control myself? Her mind seemed sluggish, unable to think. She felt the
nurse's lips encircle one of her nipples and begin to suckle, the hot tongue
flicking across and around the hard bud. She couldn't keep from whimpering from
unwanted but undeniable pleasure, and she began relaxing back onto the table.

"Don't fight me, baby. You're too hot to fight. You need to relax and have a
good come!" As her struggles gradually weakened and eyes began to drift closed
Kate began to figure it out. Amaka wasn't just seducing her. All that talk
about relaxing, that sparkling, waving amulet, it had to be hypnosis. She was
being seduced and hypnotized at the same time, with the one reinforcing the
other and making them both incredibly hard to fight.

That meant she was in much greater danger than she'd realized. This wasn't just
some horny lesbian after sex as she'd thought. This was someone who wanted to
take complete control of her, to reduce her to some kind of sex slave or worse.
She couldn't let that happen, she had to fight it. If she didn't fight it, who
knew what might happen?

Was this what had happened to Milly? Had Milly been brainwashed at this place?
And Carol Finger! That explained her disgusting transformation. Now Kate
wasn't just angry or upset, she ought to be scared, but somehow she wasn't.

She tried again to fend her off her seducer, struggling. This time she almost
succeeded in sitting up.

Amaka wrapped her arms around her and began whispering in her ear. "You can't
get away now, you're too far gone, honey, so horny. Now relax for me, relax
now..."

Kate felt herself responding to the suggestions and said, "No!" She twisted
around, trying to get away. Amaka was still breathing in her ear, "You can't
resist me. Give in. You want to give in. You want to come too bad. Close
your eyes, now. Sleep for me. Sleep..."

Kate continued to squirm against her attacker, trying to get away, trying not to
listen, but her sense of touch, made hypersensitive by the massage, made the
struggling contact more and more erotic. When she fought to keep her eyes open
despite the hypnotic suggestions she felt her sexual arousal grow irresistibly,
and when she tried to concentrate on controlling her sexual instincts her
eyelids refused to stay open.

Little by little she felt herself relaxing back onto the examining table. She
ordered her body to obey her, to throw off this female collaborator with the
forces of patriarchy, but her body had already sold out to the pleasurable
sensations Amaka could produce.

Amaka's hands were once again exploring her body, forcing her to respond against
her will.

Kate felt helplessly half angry, partly frustrated, but more and more she felt
another sensation, an undeniable sensation, not quite a buzzing but something
rather like it, that seemed to pervade the whole area between her legs and fuzzy
mound just before it. Amaka's hands were there, making her feel this way.

As the sensation grew it drove before it all her other thoughts and feelings.
She heard herself gasping for breath, felt her hips bucking violently against
the table, felt her vaginal muscles, all her muscles, suddenly contract and
squeeze tight and her breathing stop for an instant, and then the first orgasm
she had had since high school, since before she joined the movement, came
flooding over her like a hot tidal wave, like a wall of lava, like nothing she
could even imagine, and she felt her little remaining will slipping away and her
whole self, mind and body, fall under the power of the beautiful black woman.

Two hours later Amaka was smiling as a dazed but dreamily smiling Kate Harridan
stood up to go, still a little shaky. "I'm so happy it turned out those
headaches were just stress related, Ms Harridan. If you just listen every day
to the tapes and take the pills Dr. Bock put in you bag, you'll be pleased with
the change." Amaka instructed, not adding that she knew someone else who would
be even more pleased.

*****

Milly did not expect an immediate transformation; instead she just smiled at the
slow improvements she began to notice in Kate's demeanor and wardrobe. Week by
week the hem of her boss's skirts crept up until they were a really impressive
six inches above the large woman's knees. The severe bun gave way to tight
curls with sexy highlights. Some criticized the large loopy earrings that
appeared in Kate's newly pierced ears and other thought the bangles were not
serious enough for the head of NAG. High heel strap sandals and brightly
painted toe nails also signaled that something was afoot. Kate's blouses got
frillier and when they became translucent, Milly noted that Kate's respectable
boobies were on display in some eye-catching bras whose colors matched those of
the blouses.

For a few days Milly feared that Kate was getting dolled up with an eye to
making passes at her or some of the other women at NAG. In an organization like
theirs, several were of that persuasion. Even before Kate's transformation,
Ethel Parker in Accounting had lusted for the shapely head of NAG. The slim
woman was always attracted by opposites. She had dreamed of removing Kate's
thick jacket and heavy blouse and getting her bony fingers on that overflowing
set of jugs. She yearned to pull down one of those wool skirts and peel off the
opaque pantyhose to get her henna curls between Kate's plump legs. The very
thought of the effort required to get Kate naked almost exhausted her, but Ethel
reckoned there was enough Kate underneath all those clothes to be worth it. Now
that Kate was sporting mini skirts with stockings and revealing blouses, Ethel
was shivering with lust.

Ethel's desire for Kate was apparent to Milly who knew she would have to be
alert. Nothing untoward must developed before she could get the predatory
redhead some professional help from Dr. Bock. Her worries about Kate, however,
vanished when Milly saw how her boss enjoyed flirting with and teasing the
bicycle delivery boys. The President of NAG became a real hit the young men as
she bent over to sign for packages, making sure her skirt hiked up almost to her
crotch and setting her titties to bob tantalizingly. She didn't seem to mind
when the same boy returned to have her sign two or three times for the same
item.

Milly would have been equally amused had she been able to observe the daily
vignettes that had developed at Kate's apartment. One morning soon after Kate
started dressing a little more like a woman, she got a single, almost
deferential little wolf whistle from a worker at the construction site across
the street. Kate flashed him a grin and rewarded him with an extra swing of her
hips as she slid her shapely ass into the little Neon. The next day several
pairs of masculine eyes awaited Kate's emergence from her building. The sight
of a healthily built lady with a skirt cut closer to her waist than her knees
and whose hips rolled provocatively as she undulated toward her automobile, did
not disappoint them. A whole flute section of whistles and trills registered
the men's approval.

Fortunately, Kate was punctual so she caused little disruption to the
construction schedule when every morning at exactly 7:25 all activity stopped.
Seventy five men waited to see what bit of exaggerated exhibitionism the hot
broad across the street had in store for them that day. Whatever it was always
drew a chorus of approving hoots and cheers. Kate loved the effect she had on
all those burly men. Of course all those burly men had quite an effect on Kate,
too. During her drive to work she had quite a tingle between her legs that
forced her to steer with one hand much of the time. By her arrival at the
office the first few days, her panties were too soaked to be worn. She coped by
donning `Lite Days' and changing the pad first thing.

Although Kate's headaches were gone, Milly noted that her boss still was not
entirely well. She seemed distracted and had difficulty concentrating. Milly
smiled, remembering how antsy she had felt before she met Horse. Several times
when Milly walked into Kate's office unexpectedly, she glimpsed Kate quickly
withdrawing her hand from between her legs. She decided Kate was ready for the
proffered help.

One day soon afterward Kate returned from lunch to find a package on her desk.
"Milly, what is this doing here?," she asked.

"I ... er ... it's ... uhh ... something I got for you, ma'am. I thought
you might you need it."

Puzzled, Kate opened the package. "Milly! This looks like a ..." she gasped,
looking at the long cylindrical object.

"The batteries go in there," Milly said shyly, pointing and trying to keep
everything matter of fact. "I put in a fresh set of Eveready Energizers."

Kate turned beet red and ordered Milly out of the office. Disgusted, she thrust
the object into the bottom drawer. Try as she might, though, she couldn't get
it out of her mind. She had already changed pads once that afternoon; it was
hard to wait for five o'clock to go home. She didn't make it. About 4:30, Kate
told Milly to hold all her calls and a soft hum interspersed with muffled moans
and sighs began emanating from Kate's office. Milly was still hearing them when
she left for her night with Horse. Next morning, she found a more serene Kate
asleep on the couch in her office. Milly made a note to send out for more
Energizers.

A few days later Milly got the call she had been expecting. "Yes, sir, I gave
it to her." ... "I think so, sir. She took it home and she's been coming in
late." ... "If you say, sir."

With some trepidation, Milly spoke into the intercom. "A Mr. William Jenkins
on the line for you, ma'am." ... "He didn't say, ma'am."

"What do *you* want, Bill?" Kate demanded sourly. There was no reason to feign
civility. Bill Jenkins was President of NARM (National Association of Real
Men). His organization of male chauvinist pigs was opposed to everything NAG
stood for. The fact that Bill had dumped her at Berkeley for that skinny blonde
bimbo had nothing to do with her distaste for the man.

"Ahw, don't be that way, Katie," Bill pleaded, perhaps forgetting how she
*hated* being called "Katie." "I thought it was time NAG and NARM buried the
hatchet, you know, start to work together as partners.

"Partners? In what, for heaven's name?"

"Go out to dinner with me tonight and let me explain." he entreated.. "Please?"

Kate was about to hang up on the asshole, but something made her hesitate.
Perhaps it would be droll to hear how Bill Jenkins thought the organizations he
and Kate headed could be "partners." "Pick you up at 8:30?" he asked.

Kate surprised herself with the pains she took to look her best. She had been
wondering when she would wear that rather daring little red leather mini she had
picked up a few days ago on a whim. Well, why not? Let the bastard look, for
all he good it would do him. He had always been a leg man. In fact, why not
*tease* him a little? Make the old goat regret fucking that blonde who had a
waist twice hers by now, Kate would wager. A deliciously wicked thought crossed
her mind. Did she really need a bra? Her tits were big girls; they could take
care of themselves. The stupid Bill Jenkins had passed up many a happy night
pleasuring these babies just because that slutty blonde minx opened her legs for
him the first time they were alone together, Kate thought with disgust.

Kate considered going without panties, too -- that would give him an eyeful --
but rejected the idea. For some reason she was *pretty* damp down there
tonight. She didn't want to soil her skirt. The red fishnet stockings would be
a nice touch. Four inch heels were good enough for the office, but she decided
on the fire-engine red five-inch pumps for tonight. Finally she dabbed on
"Midnight Assignation." Marie? Hadn't that been the bitch's name?

Kate couldn't understand the way Bill squired her into the restaurant, seeming
to treat the occasion as a date rather than a business meeting. She tried to
turn the conversation to professional matters but found it difficult over the
arucula and radiccio salad, broiled lobster, and a fruity Australian white wine.
Bill repeatedly deflected her questions with witty stories that kept Kate
tittering. The pig was a great raconteur; always had been, now that she thought
of it. Letting him refill her wine glass that third time could have been a
mistake; it didn't get her any closer to understanding his ideas of partnership.

She had even less success on the dimly lit dance floor. Kate had forgotten how
much fun it was to be whirled and twirled around by a man who really knew those
old steps that few people did nowadays. When the music turned slower and she
felt his hands caress her buttocks, it just felt so natural to melt into his
arms and let him hold her close. Snuggling her head against his shoulder didn't
really mean anything romantic; it was just a social ritual. But it was
certainly not conducive to serious talk about institutional partnership.

No, Kate realized, if she was going to find out what Bill had in mind for NAG
and NARM collaboration, she would just have to go back to his house with him as
he suggested. If she had not been having so much fun, Kate would have been
really annoyed at all this beating around the bush. In the car with his arm
around her was the same. Would this bear of a man ever get serious? Why did he
want to have a liqueur on the couch before he would out with it? It was very
nice of him to tell her how pretty she looked, but what did that have to with
his idea of partnership? And flattering though it was that Bill though she had
pretty legs and wanted to see more of them, pushing her dress up like that was
quite naughty, though it did make Kate laugh.

Well, that she had a great set of jugs was no news to Kate! She guessed there
was no real harm in letting him unbutton her blouse to admire them better. In
fact, it had its practical advantage. If Bill had been kissing her man melters,
as he was now, through the material of her blouse, what a dry cleaning bill she
would have!

Men! They could go to the moon and explore continents but needed help with the
zipper of a woman skirt! She hated to think of the commotion if she hadn't been
clever enough to leave the bra at home. Oh, that was nice. Having her titties
kissed while a hand wormed it way into her panties was a lot more exciting now
than she remembered from the back seat of Bill's automobile in college. My
Goodness! Bill Jenkins had learned a few things about women in the last twenty
years, Kate reflected. She was sure he would never have know how to put his
mouth down *there* in college! Uhh! "A few things?" My god, a lot! When had
he pushed aside her panties? He had his tongue in her ... UUU! ... He was
going to make her ... AAAH ... yes, she was about to ...

"Ahiyouuuuu!" Kate wailed as she came.

After that, the exact sequence of events was a bit fuzzy, but they included Kate
tottering upstairs a few orgasms later in just her panties and heels. Bill's
hand on her shapely ass provided the needed guidance. Somehow the panties, too,
disappeared and Kate found herself lying on her back, red spikes pointed to the
ceiling with a naked Bill Jenkins looming over her. His prick was about halfway
into her very wet pussy and sinking deeper! Kate knew she was about to orgasm
again.

Moments later another inhuman shriek pierced the midnight calm.

"Oh shit!" Bill thought Of all the times for his home security alarm to
malfunction, why *now*? He scrambled down to the basement to turn the infernal
contraption off as quickly as possible without disturbing the aroused woman
lying naked in his bed, but when he returned, he saw the spell was broken. With
fire in her eyes Kate was down in the living room with her panties back on,
pulling up her skirt and searching for her blouse.

"You son of a bitch!" Kate hissed. "You deceitful, low life, treacherous
scoundrel. Why waste abuse on a snake like you? Take me home this instant!"

Kate Harridan when she was riled, brooked no dissent. A chastened Bill Jenkins
meekly opened the car door for the fuming woman. She slammed it closed herself.
"But Katie ..." he tried to explain as he slid into the driver's side.

"Shut up! I don't want a peep out of you!" Kate glowered. There was nothing
Bill could do but start the car and point it in the direction of Kate's
apartment. To break the silence he slipped a cassette in the tape player.

Kate was furious, as wrought up as she ever remembered being. As with most
women, when she was angry with herself, she projected her ire outward. What a
creep! How could Bill Jenkins think she would fall for that romantic evening
routine? Bill Jenkins playing the gentleman! What a laugh! Bill Jenkins was
no gentleman. He was a rogue, a cad. The machista pig's idea of a good night
with a woman was probably to throw the bitch down on a hardwood floor and fuck
her senseless.

Kate bet he'd done it enough times, too, starting with that dumb blonde in
college. Bill sure had the equipment for it. Kate eyed the bulge in his pants
knowingly. Silly women didn't stand a chance with men like Bill. Just like
that college floozy, they would glimpse a prong like Bill's and get so horny
they couldn't keep their legs together. Any man with a prick the size of Bill
Jenkins's was dangerous. Kate had never seen a package that size in a pair of
pants. Bill probably had women falling over him, hot little numbers half his
age that welcomed him into their warm wet fuck holes in a trice. Gad how she
hated him!

"O.K., Katie. Here we are." Bill said at last. "And I really am sorry about
..."

"I thought I told you not to speak!" Kate snapped. Bill waked beside her to the
door in silence.

"Well!" Kate growled as she turned her key in the lock.

"Well, what?" Bill asked uncomprehendingly.

"After your disgusting behavior tonight, do you think you can just dump me on my
door stoop like a sack of potatoes? Get your sorry ass in here. I want to get
laid!"

It was Zen, Kate later reflected dreamily later as she drifted down from a third
orgasm and snuggled closer to her now sleeping partner. Once she stopped
searching, the meaning became crystal clear. Bill had his huge part`n'er and
damned if it didn't feel good!

*****

The next few weeks saw a general relaxation of discipline around NAG
headquarters. The President, frankly, was not setting a good example, often
ducking out on Thursday afternoons for a long weekend with her new silver-haired
beau and sometimes not straggling back until noon on Monday.

Fortunately, Kate had loyal staff that stepped into the breech. NAG's head of
Security, La Toya Ruston, put the fear of god into the unruly young men in their
fancy cars who were causing havoc, queuing up for their dates every afternoon.
Olivia Fuentes in Research tried to keep up a semblance of a media program.
Victoria Chung of Personnel relentlessly docked the pay of girls who couldn't
wait until quitting time to get started on their evening trysts.

One would have expected Milly to help hold the fort, but Milly was facing one of
life's big decisions. A little queasiness one morning brought something to mind
she had not thought about for a while. She had been having such a great time
these last four months, but she realized that since visiting the Clinic, she
had been forgetting to re-fill her prescription for contraceptives. With the
exception of Wentworth who was always responsible, she hadn't had much
protection. When she got going with Carlos or Albert or especially with Horse,
she just didn't have the heart to insist that they stop to put on a condom and
she sure as hell didn't spoil the moment by making them pull out before they
came. Olivia would have made a more exact calculation. Milly's was rough.
Let's see ... three men, twice a week each for four months, average, say, four
times a night times maybe three oz. per come ... Hum. About two gallons of
semen by her reckoning. Yep, she was probably pregnant.

Waiting until the baby was born was not the best way to assign paternity she
knew; it weakened her bargaining position. The decision was too serious for
"eeney, meeney, miney, moh." A more objective method was required and the
answer was pretty obvious. Wentworth had even more money than Horse and was a
lot more malleable. Of course Milly expected his lawyers to try to push him
into a stingy pre-nuptial agreement, but she and Wenny would pay a visit to Dr.
Bock to talk about the baby and she was sure Amaka could give her fiancee enough
backbone to stand up to a few lawyers. Besides, Wentworth would need Amaka's
help to "remember" that night he had begged Milly not to make him use a condom
and not to wonder why their baby was a lot darker than either he or Milly.

Horse, Carlos and Albert were not too happy when Milly informed them she would
not be able to see them quite so frequently once she was married. They were
mollified, however, when she promised to introduce them to some of her friends.
The ones she had in mind were taking work far too seriously, anyway, and needed
a little more fun in their lives. Milly scheduled appointments with Dr. Bock
for Olivia, Victoria, and La Toya.

*****

The group wedding of Kate and three NAG officers was the socio-political event
of the season. Angelica Lopez headlined the "Style" spread "We're All `New
Feminists' Now." The photo caption said it all, "...from left to right the
party was composed of Mr. Charles, "Horse" Jones and his bride, Victoria Chung
Jones; Mr. Carlos Valdez and bride La Toya Ruston Valdez; Mr. Albert Wu and
bride Olivia Fuentes Wu; and Mr. William Jenkins, President of NARM and bride
Catherine Harridan Jenkins, President of NAG. Accompanying the party were Mr.
Wentworth Stokes and wife Mildred Stokes with infant; and Dr. James Bock of the
Board of Directors of NARM and companion, Ms. Amaka Ebe"

The touching photograph showed a delicate Victoria with her dark, straight hair
and almond eyes smiling up blissfully as the huge basketball player looked down
on her in adoration. Heaven help the man who so much as *looked* the wrong way
at his darling Vickie. No bantam rooster could have been more proud than Carlos
at the side of the broadly grinning black woman who may have doubled his weight.
Olivia and Albert were oblivious to the camera, lost in each others eyes. Kate
in her surprisingly short bridal gown beamed as Bill held her around the waist
like a prized possession. It was only a fluke of the camera angle that enabled
a close observer of each bride's belly to note that someone had jumped the gun
by several months on starting a family.

The photographer had not thought it seemly for a family newspaper to include the
adjacent tableau, notwithstanding its considerable human interest. There a thin
fiery redhead stood grinning, very proud and very pregnant, in the middle of the
other four Wizards starters who were looking quizzically at each other.