Sheila Pelham lay face down in the backyard, tanning her firm, well-contoured body under the mid-July sun. She felt as if she were baking, literally. Perspiration trickled down the front of the skimpy halter that encased her large and well-contoured breasts. She could feel the perspiration, too, running tickling between the cheeks of her buttocks, then down along the lips of her aroused vagina and onto the terry cloth towel between her and the red-brick patio.
It struck her as strange that the sun had aroused her sexually, and she did not resist the urge to pump her pubic mound rhythmically, ever so slightly, at the hard and warm surface beneath her. She guessed that the urgent need welling up within her was due to Mike's neglect. He had not made love to her in nearly two weeks now. Impulsively, secure in the knowledge that thick hedges shielded her on either side from neighbors' prying eyes, she jerked off the halter, cupped her breasts in both hands and continued humping steadily. In a moment, she even boldly peeled off her bikini bottoms, reached down with her right middle finger and began massaging her swollen clitoris. She did not think of her husband.
No, Mike was nowhere in the fantasy she now conjured up. Masturbation wasn't her style, usually, and she was not expert at it. The visions and thoughts that filled her head were vague, shapeless. For what did she yearn? She did not know.
Her left thumb and forefinger alternately squeezed each erect nipple above as her right middle finger tantalized her nerve center below. She humped that way, brazenly tensing the cheeks of her ass as she thrust at her finger in the afternoon sun. But she could not bring herself to come. Something deep within her craving body told her to wait. Tonight, she thought. I will save myself for tonight. Maybe tonight Mike will force himself to fuck me. Oh, please ... please ... yes, I must save myself for tonight in case Mike wants me ... but please make him want me!
It had been lonely for both Sheila and Mike since moving from San Francisco three weeks ago. They weren't exactly antisocial, but they weren't joiners either. In fact, they had not even introduced themselves to their neighbors. And Mike's new job as sales manager had him jittery, insecure, lacking self-confidence. Yes, maybe that was it, Sheila thought. Maybe he's temporarily impotent or something. She had heard of such things. Yes, all of them were merely adjusting to new surroundings and conditions. She loved San Francisco; she was not at all sure she would ever learn to like Los Angeles, even though their new house enjoyed a splendid view of the West San Fernando Valley. It was difficult for her 15-year-old stepson as well. He was attending the local summer school and just as confused as she and Mike with the newness of everything. Young Richie was having his problems, too.
Sighing, she rolled onto her back, squinting at the blazing sun, concentrating hard to will away the horniness that had nearly made her masturbate to orgasm. She was pleased that the voice to her right was female. It startled her, because it was low-pitched and emotionless, but at least it was a female who now gazed upon her nakedness. "Trying for that even, all-over tan, eh?" Instinctively, Sheila covered her breasts with her arms. "Uh-yes," she stammered, embarrassed, wondering how long the tall and strikingly beautiful brunette woman had been observing her. "That's it exactly-an even tan."
The stranger fluttered long lashes and, without asking, stepped through the hedge, walked over and stared down at Sheila. There was something authoritative about her, although she looked feminine enough. Most apparent was the leather halter she wore. And the leather shorts. Sheila had never seen a woman wear leather briefs, particularly black ones, in the dead of summer. She stood there, hovering above Sheila, with her hands on her hips and her legs placed wide apart while Sheila hastily got into her bikini again. Finally, she said, "I'm Ginger Winters. My husband Loren and I live right next door." She held out her strong hand then to assist Sheila to her feet and Sheila accepted it.
"Hello, Ginger," Sheila said, on her feet now. "I'm Sheila Pelham."
Ginger's cold, pale blue eyes narrowed as she appraised Sheila from head to toe. Something about her sent shivers up and down Sheila's spine-very unusual shivers, for she was not afraid of this intruding stranger. In fact, she felt relief to think that at last she had found a friend, a very beautiful and shapely, though perhaps slightly bizarre-looking, friend.
"Come on next door, to my place," Ginger said, but it was a command. "I'll fix you something cold to drink and we can chit chat."
Sheila found herself obeying willingly and she followed the tall and leather-clad Ginger through the hedge. Inside the cool, two-story house, Ginger brought iced tea and they sat on a huge, black vinyl couch.
Ginger merely stared at Sheila, who glanced about the interior of the rough-textured, dark colored house. Sheila felt peculiarly nervous, a fluttering sensation in her stomach, almost the way she'd felt on her first junior high school date. Ginger said nothing, and finally Sheila ran her hand over the cool surface of the black vinyl on which they sat.
"You-uh-like leather and things like leather, don't you?"
A slow smile spread across the lovely but hard features of Ginger's face. "Yes, leather serves my purposes," she said evenly. "You could almost say it is indicative of certain kinds of households."
"Kinds of households?" Sheila replied. "Oh your husband must be very fond of it, huh? I imagine he's a very-well, masculine type." Ginger's response was convulsive. She burst into laughter, spouting iced tea like a whale blowing and very nearly dropped her glass. Finally, when she settled down, she said, "No, I assure you Loren is not the masculine type. He'd better not be. That passed long ago."
Sheila frowned, puzzled, but Ginger offered no further explanation. Instead, she reached out and pulled down the front of Sheila's halter. The gesture did not shock Sheila, to her surprise. It seemed perfectly natural for some inexplicable reason. She even found herself arching her back slightly so that her firm, high breasts jutted out as though undergoing inspection. She wondered if the hot sun had rendered her temporarily daffy. This strange woman seemed to hold some strange sort of power over her. She was strong, dominant, yet at the same time sympathetic.
"You got too much sun, dear. Crimson red above and milky white below. That will never do at all." She chuckled, standing. Then, over her shoulder, as she started down a long hall toward the rear of the house, she called, "Come back here ... I have just the lotion for you. After all, when your husband attempts to fondle those succulent and delectable breasts, he's entitled to a sex partner who doesn't squirm and say ouch, correct?" As though hypnotized, Sheila obeyed. She followed the incredibly rounded buttocks encased in black leather, the body that moved with such confidence and harsh grace, to an enormous master bedroom. It was very dark. Ginger flicked on a red light.
"Lie face down, Sheila," Ginger commanded. "On the bed ... I shall get the lotion."
Once again, Sheila performed as instructed. She found herself breathing faster as she waited for her new friend's return. Oddly, she felt safe, secure, protected in this house with this most unusual woman. She nuzzled, inhaling the dark bed spread-leather or vinyl, she couldn't tell which. She began trembling with anticipation. Anticipation of what? She did not know. Suddenly soft music began emanating from the ceiling, the walls, and then Ginger Winters entered and sat down gently on the bed beside her.
"The music?" Sheila asked in a whisper, barely audible to her own ears.
"That's only to relax you, my lovely new neighbor. It will help take the sting out of your sunburn as I apply the lotion."
"W-will the l-lotion sting?" Sheila asked, shuddering as Ginger began stroking her hair.
"Of course not. I heartily recommend it. I assure you it will make you feel very good. But you must relax." Ginger's strong hand was massaging the back of her neck now. "I saw your little display of desire there on your patio. Perfectly natural for a young woman with fire in her loins, I'd say. It was beautiful watching you writhe that way. How old are you, my dear?"
"Twenty-four," Sheila said.
"Very young to have such a mature son about the house. Yes, I've seen him. I've observed all three of you. He must be a stepson, correct?"
"Yes, that's right-a stepson."
"Do you discipline him often?" Ginger's hands were moving lightly over Sheila's trembling body now, but not yet applying any lotion. The hands were kind, but strong and demanding.
"Not often," said Sheila. "Usually, my husband-his father-takes care of discipline."
"Oh, that's too bad," Ginger cooed. "A young lad responds much more quickly to discipline at the hands of a woman. In fact, my dear, a husband can be made to perform wonders if his woman knows the proper kinds of discipline to impose." Puzzled, Sheila turned to ask for an explanation, but Ginger shushed her. "But that's another matter-one we'll have much time to discuss later. Right now, there is the matter of soothing your sunburn and establishing our new relationship. I have the feeling we're going to become close, close friends. Intimate friends."
A tinge of fear mingled with Sheila's feeling of security and safety then. She was about to ask what Ginger meant by "new relationship" and "intimate friends," when she felt the first cool splash of lotion on her back. And then the strong, commanding hands were kneading and working the liquid into her flesh...." gentle fingers, soft as feathers...." Ginger began chanting ... just like girls and girls together "
Sheila did not know the precise moment she knew she wanted for this strange woman to make love to her. It simply happened. She had never had sexual contact with another female before, but the knowledge that the two of them, both female, would cradle each other, hold each other, press their breasts together and seek blessed female-with-female orgasm together, came. And it was as if the sexual floodgates of a lifetime had been opened ... as if they had been born to mate in some perverse paradise.
No overt touch had been made directly upon her breasts or genitals, but the hands had tantalized her buttocks, fluttered up and down her inner thighs, teased dangerously close to her erect and waiting nipples.
Sheila began her submissive gesture with a groan. Then, breathless, she turned onto her back and placed both arms above her head-totally yielding. Blinking lazily, she was not surprised to see that Ginger had removed her black leather halter. The big breasts, out-thrust and with nipples like little chocolate fingers, were just a kiss away, but instinctively Sheila knew that she was to await the stronger Ginger's direction, and so she restrained her sudden desire to reach out and fondle this strong woman's beckoning breasts.
"Very good, Sheila," Ginger said a little harshly. "You're coming along just fine. Relax totally "
The clenching hands applied the lotion directly to Sheila's breasts, then lingered and annointed each nipple. Sheila arched her back and began pumping with the lower half of her body. She did not know what to expect. She had heard strange tales of lesbian love, and she hoped that she would not become addicted to woman-love from just one session. Yes, vaguely. This possibility frightened her. But then the fear was gone. Vanished. For with unbelievable finesse, Ginger then drew each of Sheila's nipples deep into her mouth and let her tongue swirl about the sensitive areolas.
Without thinking, Sheila reached out and began to grope the breasts of her new-found lover. "Ginger," she breathed. "Ohh...."
"Not yet!" Ginger snapped. "I'll tell you when you may touch me. Now relax."
Then Sheila found herself inhaling the scent of leather-leather in combination with body scent. Ginger had placed her black leather halter gently across her nostrils and Sheila found the scent acting as an aphrodisiac. She inhaled deeply, groaning as the mouth on her nipples worked methodically, skillfully. At the same time, Sheila became aware that Ginger's hand was teasing its way down her stomach toward her gushing womanhood. She wanted to scream out for this master seductress to hurry up, but she realized that Ginger was in complete control and could not be rushed.
Great sucking sounds reverberated through the weird bedroom now as Ginger intensified her laving efforts on the heaving breasts. And then, finally, Ginger's palm settled on Sheila's mound and began a slow and sensuous pubic massage. Sheila inhaled still more deeply of the leather halter, entranced by it, her entire body trembling and awaiting fulfillment.
To her surprise, Ginger then said, "Now you may fondle my breasts for a moment, dear. But just for a moment. I have work to do below." She dipped her finger gently into Sheila's mercury slick vagina, gathering lubricant, then daintily flicked horizontally at the expanded clitoris. "Yes, much work to do below. Your honey-pot is nectar and I must dine upon and cleanse every pore of its infinite loveliness. As far as I am concerned, Sheila, you are a virgin. Yes, this is your very first time. You will come to know and believe this, Sheila. You will come to know a great deal you never thought possible."
With that, Ginger the lifted Sheila's head to her waiting breasts and softly commanded, "Suck, little one. Nurse for a moment before I take you to paradise."
Sheila found herself sucking greedily on the giant, extended nipples. It was as though she were a child again, nursing, and all the while Ginger purred instructions and manipulated her tingling clitoris. Finally, just as abruptly, Ginger pulled her nipple from Sheila's gulping mouth. It made a popping sound, and there was a strand of saliva in the dim red light. Near hysteria at being deprived of the big nipples to nurse upon, Sheila fought to recapture one.
Ginger slapped her lightly. "That's enough!" she barked. "I shall tell you when to begin everything, and I shall tell you when to stop. Is that clear?"
Tearful, Sheila nodded. It has to be a dream, she thought.
"Now we place the leather pillow beneath your buttocks, love, and I shall begin my feast."
It was not as if a tongue had never dwelled in the labyrinth of her womanhood before, for often Mike and others before him had eaten her. But the consummate skill, the consideration, the knowledge of every fold and crease of vagina that could be teased and tormented to exquisite delight was without parallel. Sheila's lower body worked like that of a belly dancer's as she rose to accept, the hungry, yet tender tonguing efforts of this masterful female who now gorged herself on Sheila's cunt. Ginger's hands seemed to be everywhere. Now massaging her ass, then palming her pubic mound as she gobbled, Ginger had Sheila swearing eternal devotion. Yes, and somehow the hands were on her breasts also as she maintained a steady, excruciating rhythm of tongue against clitoris.
"Chew the leather halter," Ginger said, raising herself from between Sheila's legs, her face drenched with love fluid. "Keep sniffing the leather and chew it slightly. Enjoy the fragrance of it, get to love it-for leather is going to be such a friend as you've never had before. Do it!" Joyfully, she knew not why, Sheila complied. "Good," Ginger purred. "You will be just fine. You will learn to love leather. You will even learn to use leather to control the male animal. Keep it in your mouth. I do not want you screaming when I take you to the heights. Good ... fine ... very good indeed, Sheila."
The mouth returned once again to its labors against her clitoris. Now and then, briefly, it would depart to suck on the delicate inner folds of Sheila's cunt. Sheila questioned no order, no command that Ginger issued. And there were many. Sheila had not dreamed of the places a tongue could probe, the dormant needs it could arouse. Time and time again she neared a climax, but at the last second Ginger would deny her fulfillment. No, it was not sadism. This, woman was preparing her for the most intense orgasm of her life. Once, in hysteria, she pleaded to eat her leather mistress as she was being eaten, but each time her request was refused. It baffled Sheila that she would crave to suck another woman's sex, and it baffled her more that her request would be denied.
When the climax came, Sheila tried to dig her nails into the leather bedspread, but to no avail. Convulsing, eyelids fluttering, she heard her own muffled screams and bit harder down on the leather halter. Great waves of pleasure wracked her body. Finally, she lay whimpering, spent as never before, gasping and bucking as Ginger clutched her to her breast almost maternally.
"So there you have it, my love," Ginger cooed, as if in a lullaby. We shall be inseparable from this day on. But there are certain disciplines to be endured, you know. I must discuss your relationship with both your husband and your stepson. I feel that they are in need of considerable-uh-let us say regulation. Is that clear?"
Sheila was slow to answer, and she felt a sharp tug at her hair.
"Yes, Ginger," Sheila replied. "It is clear." Something told her that she would have to reevaluate this afternoon once she was at home and out of Ginger's influence, but for now she simply responded as she knew she must. Most frightening, though, she had the feeling she might never escape the influence of Ginger-never escape it because she did not want to escape it.
And Ginger seemed to know this, too.
"I am available for these sessions at any time, Sheila. That should be of much comfort to you. I will make sexual demands on you as well, however. There will be times, for instance, when prior to my satisfying you as I've done today, I shall demand that you service me. Quite literally, I shall demand long sessions of breast sucking from you, and I shall sit very hard and long on your pretty face, rotating as I see fit until I have satisfied my own sexual needs. Understood?"
"Yes, Ginger. It-it was h-heaven today."
"Of course it was. But it will be much better when you have the males of your household under absolute control. I will teach you ways to accomplish that, you may be sure. In fact, our entire relationship will depend on your asserting yourself in this crucial area. Our sexual relationship and the discipline of your husband and stepson will go hand in hand. There cannot be one without the other. Is that clear?"
"It's clear, Ginger," Sheila replied hastily. "Good. There is a bright new world before you. I have dominated you today as you will dominate your men-all men everywhere-to one degree or another. It is all a matter of instruction. We are both elegant females, dear-I a stunning brunette and you a most delectable blonde. Yes, your pretty blonde puss was a treat. My treat. But you must hold your head high and never allow yourself to be dominated by men who would use you, dominated by men who have been exploiting females such as us for centuries. I realize it's all very complicated to you now, but it will become crystal clear in good time. Now shall we have some more iced tea?"
Back in the living room, Ginger seemed the perfect hostess. Not the slightest hint of the tigress she had displayed in the bedroom was detectable. They spoke of their childhoods, their parents, their hopes and dreams. Several hours had passed when Sheila suddenly realized that Richie had probably come home from school.
"Why are you so concerned?" Ginger asked. "He's a young adult. Can't he fix himself a goddam peanut butter sandwich or something? Doesn't he have homework to do?"
Ginger's manner, her speech, everything had changed now that she had emerged from the cavern-like bedroom.
"Yes, I suppose so," Sheila said. "Sure."
"Good," Ginger said smiling sweetly. "Tomorrow I want to discuss your seduction of him. It's important that you begin his sexual instruction as soon as possible?"
"Sexual instruction? Seduction of my-my stepson?"
"Naturally. Once the seduction has passed, then you can begin alternating sexual satisfaction with sexual denial. This is the fastest and most direct route to disciplining the male animal." Sheila shook her head, blinking. "This is all coming a bit too fast for me, Ginger. I'm not sure I want to get into this dominant/submissive thing at all. I mean, I've read about such activities, but I'm not so sure I'm cut out for it. Also, Mike is a pretty tough hombre. Somehow I can't see him letting me order him around."
"You'll see," Ginger said. "In fact, after today you really have no choice in the matter."
Sheila stood up. "Well, it's been fun. I guess, as they say, there's a little bit of dyke in every girl. Whew, you really did me fine. Jesus, no man ever gave me an orgasm like that. But I have to think about all this. I-I think maybe we should just be friends and neighbors." She pressed her thumbs against her temples. "I don't think I've ever been so confused in my life."
Ginger stood up then, too. "Understandable. I was confused after the first time with a woman, too. But you'll get used to it. Wait and see."
"I'm not so sure."
"As I said, just wait and see." Ginger hugged Sheila then, without passion, without lust. It was like hugging a sorority sister.
Sheila thanked Ginger for "applying the lotion," winked and went back through the hedge to see if Richie had come home from summer school yet.
Richie had indeed arrived. He lay stretched out on the living room couch, a banana in one hand and a cookie in the other. The banana peel lay , face down on the glass coffee table, smudging it, and there were cookie crumbs on the table, too. At fifteen, he was very tall, gangly, with broad shoulders and a slightly freckled face. He had his father's ruddy complexion and dark blond hair. For a long time now, perhaps a year, she had been aware of his sexual interest in her. Several times she had caught him studying her with a strange expression on his young face and a considerable bulging erection at his crotch. The enormity of his organ had not escaped her.
She stood observing him. He was not yet aware that she had entered the house. Tomorrow I want to discuss your seduction of him, Ginger had said. Was the woman mad? Seduce this overgrown child? Well, one thing was certain. He certainly required discipline. She had told him a dozen times not to eat in the living room.
"Damn it, Richie!" she yelled. "What are you doing on the couch with that food? You're making a mess. Get up!"
He jumped, startled, but remained in his lazy prone position. He grinned, winking. "Who's gonna make me?"
He was just teasing, of course, but suddenly Ginger's comments flooded her brain. Yes, it was true. The males of this household treated her like dirt, came and went as they pleased without the least consideration for her. Strange that she had never been aware of this glaring fact until Ginger's enlightening remarks. Well, she would now show this young wise-ass. She was very fond of him, but enough was enough.
She strode quickly across the room and grabbed him by the arm. She couldn't budge him and, grinning, he pulled her so that she fell across him.
"Damn you, brat!" she spat. "Let me go, and get up this instant. Clean up this mess, do you hear?"
Giggling, enjoying himself, he tickled her ribs. He had never been this overt in his disobedience before. "Aw, come on, Sheila. I'm not a criminal. I'll clean the mess up in a minute, but first I wanna tell you something. You know what? You're better looking than any girls at that dumb new school. Honest."
He was holding her quite firmly, with both hands about her waist, and there was something determined in his gray eyes. He had teased her this way before, but never to this extent. Suddenly she was aware of his erection against her hip. It had been an insane day, and now it was getting even crazier. She pushed against his hip with her palm so that the hard-on was not making contact anymore, but mainly so that she could gaze at it.
Richie obviously saw her viewing his hard-on and she actually saw the thing jerk a bit inside his tight denims. After her session with Ginger, she certainly didn't feel horny, but then, almost against her will, she could hear Ginger's words. Then you can begin alternating sexual satisfaction with sexual denial. This is the fastest and most direct route to disciplining the male animal.
Was the woman a witch? Sheila wondered. Oddly, she found herself actually considering Ginger's advice! But, no, of course not. The idea was unthinkable. Richie was always making suggestive remarks, but surely he was joking. And she could not possibly permit a sexual union between herself and this teen-ager, especially under his father's roof. But ... it was as if Ginger had hypnotized her....
Richie nestled his face between her neck and shoulder, nibbling. "Hey, come on and deep throat me, stepmother," he kidded. "I know all about that kind of action. Nobody ever did that to me. I bet you do it to dad. Come on, Sheila. Do it." He laughed boldly, still holding her firmly, his eyes twinkling.
"I've told you before not to talk to me that way. I'll have to speak to your father if you continue such remarks."
"Okay, go ahead. He won't believe you. I'll tell him you're lying."
And then Richie, staring her directly in the eye, brazenly began stroking his bulging crotch with his right hand. He had definitely gone too far this time, Sheila decided. She was about to slap him hard across the face when once again Ginger's words sounded loud and clear in her head. Sexual instruction ... the fastest route to disciplining the male animal ... alternating sexual satisfaction with sexual denial...."
Her vagina was actually very sensitive from Ginger's prolonged mouthing of it, but possibly there was a way to begin the seduction that Ginger had suggested. She stared directly now at Richie's hard-on as he manipulated it beneath the denims. She blinked hard, shaking her head. It was as if Ginger had cast a spell and she were in a trance-doing Ginger Winters' will.
"Why are you doing that to yourself, Richie? Do you wish to masturbate so that I can watch? Is that it?" And her own voice sounded foreign and domineering to her own ears. It was aa though she were someone else.
Richie's eyes lit up. "Yeah, sure. Hey, would you really watch me jerk off? Listen, I can shoot at least a foot into the air. Would you watch me, huh? Wow, Sheila, that would be great. Please?"
"You're quite an undisciplined animal, you know." She stared him directly in the eye. "There is the matter of secrecy, Richie. Do you understand? If I were to grant such a request, your father must never learn of it."
Why was she speaking so formally? she wondered. It was, once again, as if she were someone else. Her voice reminded her of Ginger's! She was actually beginning Richie's seduction!
"Never! No, I wouldn't ever breathe a word, Sheila. Jesus, I've dreamed of something like this between us for a long time now. You can trust me, I swear."
"And when you've finished, will you empty the papers and water the lawn?" Sheila inquired matter-of-factly, in her new and strange low pitched voice.
"You bet," he gasped. "Anything, Sheila ... Anything!"
"Very well then," Sheila intoned. "You may take your organ out of your pants and begin." Trembling visibly, young Richie quickly unbuttoned his denims and let his very sizable hard-on flop free. In truth, it was a beautiful prick, Sheila thought. Dribbling, eager, very hard. Bone-hard. Well, his beautiful hard-on can become like the reins of a horse, she thought. I can lead him around by the thing. He'll do my bidding after today. No more back-talk. She would be in total control after today. Ginger was absolutely correct in her advice.
Richie was stroking his hard prick slowly, holding it in his fist and staring at his stepmother's reaction at the same time. Timidly, he reached out and fondled Sheila's breast with his left hand as his right hand jerked himself off. She did not pull away. She stared, fascinated, at the young, hard organ for perhaps half a minute.
"Richie, were you serious about your deep throat remark?" she asked.
The tempo of his hand on his stiff and pulsing erection increased. "Y-Yeah, sure, but I-I couldn't ever expect you to-to do something like that."
"Never mind, young man," Sheila said, thinking primarily of the disciplinary value to be obtained in what she was about to do, but at the same time feeling her salivary glands beginning to work hard. She would enslave him forever, she thought. And besides, she realized she wanted to mouth the youthful, thick, hard cock. "Lie back!" she commanded. "Lie flat and just relax."
Staring in disbelief, Richie obeyed, and then she moved up so that she sat even with his midsection, bent down and took his organ as far into her mouth as possible. She did not deep-throat him, but she took at least half of the very long cock into her mouth and began swirling her tongue as she slowly bobbed her head up and down, just the way Mike, his father liked it. The young lad groaned a long-sounding and pitiful sound and moved his hips ever so slightly, worrying the folds of her lips.
With all the expertise she could muster, she let no pore of the great hard-on go unattended. It occurred to her as she sucked that she was ministering to him very much the same as Ginger had ministered to her.
"S-H-E-I-L-A ... S-H-E-I-L-A...." Richie chanted again and again as she cupped his large testicles, rotating their immensity in her palm and went on drawing the stout prick deeper into her throat ... deeper ... deeper, actually looking forward to its geysering. Yes, she wanted to enslave him forever by nursing his organ to its logical conclusion, staying with it to the end ... and beyond the conclusion. Yes, he would never, never forget this moment.
The young hard-on was sliding more rapidly now, glancing off the roof of her mouth, piercing deeper as it sought depth, greater heat, greater friction. Richie's grunts and groans and even squeals were delicious music to Sheila's ears.
Abruptly she stopped, glanced up at his contorted features. "You may ejaculate in my mouth," she stated. "This is your first experience with oral sex and I want it to be good for you. Do you understand? Is that clear?" Her choice of words reminded her of Ginger's.
"Ohhh, yeah. Sheila, I wanna come so bad. Oh, yeah ... I'll do anything you say from now on. I promise. Anything you say...."
"That is quite right, Richie. You will do anything I say, I can promise you that. You will obey, and beautiful things like this will happen. If you don't obey-well, beautiful things will not happen."
"Anything ... anything!" Richie gasped, spasming.
And then the pulsing prick was once again in the heat of her mouth and he was pumping quite hard now. She took all he had, every desperate and virginal thrust, and when he began bucking and snorting uncontrollably she knew the signs all too well. The flood of young male youth, in liquid form, filled her mouth and she massaged his balls violently to insure complete drainage. She swallowed, grasping hard at the thick base of the organ then until he was totally spent.
He was a trifle nervous, perhaps even guilty afterwards, but she kissed him maternally on the cheek, then addressed him crisply.
"Now to your chores, Richie."
Richie emptied the trash and watered the lawn, then asked what else he could do. She had him wax the kitchen floor and clean the stove. In fact, he did her bidding willingly until his father returned home from work.
CHAPTER TWO
Sheila heard the automatic garage door rumbling as it slid open. She left the kitchen hurriedly and peered through the living room drapes as her husband's car approached the driveway. It was 7:20, and once again Mike was late-just as he had been arriving home late for weeks now. His face was haggard-looking, gaunt, from the pressures of his new sales manager job. Norris Electronics, Inc. worked all its executives hard, she knew, but she felt that Mike was letting himself become a doormat. He had become a glutton for overwork, and he had become almost masochistic about his job.
And all at her expense ... their sex life was nil....
Sheila watched until he had parked the car in the garage. Then she returned to the kitchen. Her back was to him when he entered. He crossed the gold-patterned linoleum, kissed the back of her neck and encircled her waist with one arm. She remained facing the sink and side-stepped a little to the cutting board where she began chopping onions for a salad.
"A pretty cool reception for the Conqueror," he said, chuckling.
She went on chopping onions, vigorously. "The Conqueror is late again," she said evenly. "The Conqueror doesn't deserve a warm reception. Go and read your paper. I'll call you when dinner is ready."
She still hadn't looked at him.
"Where's Richie?" he asked.
"In his room-doing his homework. He'll be studying until dinner-time."
"Wonderful," Mike said. "Actually doing his homework. How did you manage that?"
"Someone has to take charge around here. You're certainly never around. Don't worry about it. I'll handle Richie from now on."
He turned her around so that she was facing him. He was frowning, puzzled, his briefcase still clutched under his arm. "Hey, are you all right? I mean, is anything the matter?"
She slipped from his grasp and turned her back to him again. "No, everything is fine. In fact, it couldn't be better. Now will you please let me fix dinner?"
"That's because I'm accustomed to accommodating you. I start it late because I know you're going to be late. Leave me alone will you?"
She heard him exit from the kitchen. A moment later the TV came on and she visualized Mike, sitting in his big chair with his feet up on the ottoman, reading his evening paper and listening to the evening news. Rage welled up within her. Ginger had been absolutely correct. Males were relegating her to the role of cook and housecleaner; they came and went as they pleased; they used her body for sex when it suited them; and they ignored her sexual needs when it suited them. Not any more, she thought. There are going to be some drastic changes. The whole world was marching to a different tune. And women were calling the tunes. Damned right. She did not have to take this shit anymore.
She scooped up the onions and tossed them in the salad bowl, then uncontrollably flung the knife in the sink with a clang. She started toward the living room, then stopped, inhaling and massaging the back of her neck with a palm. What had gotten into her? Every since she had left Ginger Winters' place she had been in a state of subdued rage. She almost returned to the fixing of dinner, then decided to continue on her present course. Her new policy was working wonders with Richie, so why shouldn't she apply it to her husband?
She strode into the living room, walked over to the TV and turned it off.
"Hey, I'm listening to the news," Mike said.
"You mean, you were listening to the news."
"How about we cut out the crap, huh?" he said. "Turn the set back on and get your ass back in the kitchen. I happen to be hungry."
She crossed the room quickly, ripped the newspaper from his lap and flung it on the floor. Then she picked up his briefcase from the table and slammed it in his lap.
"What the fuck's the matter with you?"
"I'm going to tell you," Sheila said, brushing her taffy-colored bangs from her high forehead. "First, from now on, if you're going to be later than 6:30, you telephone me. I'm not serving dinner any later than 6:30 unless you phone. Otherwise it's TV dinners, baby."
He stared at her, blinking, obviously thunderstruck.
"And secondly, if you're so goddamned busy and overworked, then I suggest you study what's in that briefcase instead of reading the paper and watching TV. Do a little work at home. Then you won't have to stay so late at the office." Her breath came fast, and her breasts rose and fell as she stared at him venomously.
He forced a smile then, got up and came over to her and kissed her neck. "I know what's bugging you," he said, purring. "Daddy's been neglecting his little sex pot." He cupped both breasts with his warm hands. "Tonight daddy's gonna give you the old hot beef injection."
"We'll see," Sheila said. "I'm not sure I'm interested. King Male may be just a little too late."
"Whew, I worry about sales quotas and distribution all day long, and then I come home to this crap. Been reading Cosmopolitan or something?" He shrugged, went back and sat down. He picked up his newspaper again, snapped it and began reading.
Sheila crossed the room again. She snatched the newspaper away, tore it violently, then threw it on the rug. He reached out and slapped her, shook her hard by the shoulder, but she didn't budge. Breathing hard, she stared him right in the eye.
"That's the last time you'll ever do that, Mike," she said. "I meant what I said. Study your goddam papers from work, or there won't be any dinner or any sex either. Ever."
His eyes suddenly went soft. Obviously, he thought she was on the verge of nervous collapse. "Uh-sure, honey. I-I know it's been rough for you. If it'll make you feel better I'll be happy to. Sure."
She waited while he opened the briefcase and, with trembling fingers, extracted sheets of paper with figures on them. He began studying them, glancing up at her from time to time.
"I want a swimming pool, Mike," Sheila said evenly. "It's hot here in the San Fernando Valley and I want a pool. You have your toys-your Mercedes, your golf on weekends, your business trips. Well, I want a pool. I want you to work hard-at the office and at home. I want you to make more money, because I want a pool soon. Is that clear?"
Mike squinted in disbelief, then ran his hand over his handsome features. "We'll see," he said, finally.
"No," Sheila said coolly. "We won't see-we'll swim. Or else we won't fuck, or do all the goodies you used to like in bed." Once again, Sheila was astounded at her courage, her low-pitched and demanding tone of voice.
Mike bit his lip and, still scowling in bewilderment, appeared to be studying the papers from the office. Satisfied for the moment, Sheila headed for the kitchen. She paused in the doorway and turned.
Mike looked up. "Please let me know when dinner's ready, will you? I-I'll be looking over these papers till dinner, but I am awfully hungry, dear."
She started to say "Yes, dear," as she would have done in the past, but she could not resist asking a final question.
"Yes, I'll tell you when dinner's ready," she said, almost sweetly. "But would you tell me when I can expect that swimming pool? An estimate, at least?" , "I don't know !" he screamed. "Goddam it, you just laid the request on me. How the hell would I know? I'll let you know, okay? Jesus H. Christ! What in the fuck is going on around here? When will dinner be ready?"
"I really couldn't say," she almost whispered. "Your guess is just as good as mine. When you see it on the table, you can come and eat it. And please don't swear so loud. Richie will hear you. I don't want Richie disturbed while he's doing his homework. He's going to get all A's in school. I'm seeing to it."
"That'll be the day," Mike said, still shaking all over.
"Don't you worry about Richie," she replied. "He's absolutely under control. Just worry about yourself-your success and getting a pool for your son and me to swim in."
Mike hid behind his papers, saying nothing.
Before placing the lamb chops, asparagus and potatoes on the table, Sheila removed her bra in the master bedroom. Then she put on a lavender, button-down-the-front shirt, leaving the top three buttons undone. Inspecting herself in the big mirror, she saw that her braless breasts and nipples were prominent within the sheer material. Finally, she quietly opened the door to Richie's room and told him that supper was ready. "Let's start dinner," she whispered. "Your father is working."
She and Richie were halfway through the meal before Mike entered, glanced hostilely at their near-empty plates and sat down.
"Thanks for calling me for dinner," he said.
"I didn't want to interrupt your work," Sheila said. She was aware that young Richie had hardly been able to keep his eyes off her breasts as they dined. Whenever she leaned forward, she exposed as much of them as possible. The lad was putty in her hands all right. She was enjoying her new power.
Mike served himself, then cleared his throat. "I'd like more potatoes," he said. "Also, if you don't mind, I'm used to eating more than one lamb chop."
"I told Richie to go ahead and eat a third one," Sheila replied casually. "He did all kinds of work for me today, and he was starved. Besides, I think it's time you started watching your weight. You're actually getting flabby, dear. Yes, I plan to regulate our diets until our weights are more normal."
"Shit!" Mike said, woofing the dinky portions down.
Richie didn't even hear his father. He was too busy staring at his stepmother's prominent nipples and trying to get a better view each time she bent forward. Sheila reveled in his constant inspection of her mammaries and his brand-new humility. There was no trace at all of his former arrogance and disobedience. Her cocksucking had brought him to his knees.
Mike saw his son staring at his wife's breasts and said, "Just concentrate on your food, huh?"
Richie looked at Sheila for corroboration and she nodded. "Do as your father says," she assured him, and he obeyed, keeping his eyes on his food for the next few seconds.
When Mike's plate was empty, he gazed at the empty serving bowls, then slapped his napkin down hard on the table and stomped off toward the bedroom. Richie giggled softly.
"I had a hard day," Mike said from the doorway. "Let's get to bed early tonight. All of us. Come to bed as soon as you can, Sheila? I want to talk to you."
The door to the master bedroom slammed hard behind him.
"Go on to bed, Richie," Sheila whispered. "I may have a surprise for you later. Just go to bed, turn the light out and wait." She kissed him lingeringly on the cheek. "Yes, you were a very good boy today. You did everything I asked, so-well, don't be shocked if I pay you a visit."
"Yes, Sheila," he said. "I'm going to bed. Right now."
Sheila took a long time clearing the table and tidying up the kitchen-at least a half hour. Then, she turned off all the house lights, entered the bedroom and quickly disrobed. She stood on the thick carpet, stark naked, and she was certain she saw Mike move slightly under the covers. Was he pretending to be asleep? She couldn't be sure, but she stood there in the very dim light of the night light on the bedside table. She hoped he was horny-just as horny as she had been. Ginger had given her the most powerful orgasms of her life, so she certainly didn't feel horny, but if Mike were in the mood for sex, then it was the perfect time for teasing.
Sheila arched her back, clutching her breasts with her kneading hands. Then she emitted a little groan and slid into bed. Mike did not move, and she wondered if she had been mistaken. Per haps he was asleep after all. She reached over, flicked off the light on the nightstand and lay very still on her side, facing away from him.
Several minutes passed. She lay very still, waiting. Finally, he turned and sort of curled up, fitting himself to her rear. She could feel his stiff hard-on pressing against her buttocks. She smiled. It would be one of the weirdest sessions of their marital life if all went as she planned.
Very slowly, almost imperceptibly, he pressed his erection more firmly against her. Then his hand lightly massaged her hip and slid up to fondle her breast. She forced a little sigh of pleasure, as if welcoming his advances. So, after all this time, Mike was condescending to service her. No doubt he thought a good screwing would restore her to the dutiful, understanding, whatever-you-want-dear kind of wife he knew. She let him go on that way, thinking he was arousing her (which he was in a way, but she was determined to resist him), letting him get himself all worked up.
Soon his mouth was at her ear, whispering gutturally in the darkness.
"Baby, you know I love you-need you. You know I have to play with your beautiful tits and fuck your tight, luscious cunt. Your body always drives me crazy. I know I've neglected you lately, but-but that's all going to be different." He turned her around, facing him, and began running his hungry hands all over her body as he drew a nipple into his mouth. "Let's not have any more scenes like tonight, huh? No, never again. Come on, Sheila. Let's fuck. My cock is aching to get up inside that oven-cunt of yours."
Sheila permitted him to lift her knee up onto his hip, preparatory to fucking her while lying on their sides. But as he began stabbing at her clitoris with the head of his hard cock, she removed her knee and pressed her legs together, denying him entrance.
"I-I just wish you'd come home earlier, Mike," she said. "You will phone me from now on-if you're not going to be home by six thirty?"
"For christ sake, yes I Let's not talk about it now. Yeah, sure I'll call you."
He tugged at her knee, trying to spread her again, but she kept her legs tight together. "Promise?"
"Of course, I promise," he grunted. "Now let's fuck. My God! What the hell are you doing? This isn't the time for an interrogation!"
Sheila sighed, reaching down and grasping her husband's throbbing, dribbling erection. "I-I just don't know, Mike. I have the feeling you don't care if I have a swimming pool or not."
"Don't worry about it. Yeah, that's it, honey ... play with the balls that way. Uh-you'll get your swimming pool. Ohh, that's nice ... play with it just that way...."
"When will I get the pool?" Sheila inquired, working with both hands on her husband's genitals now-one hand massaging his balls, the other slowly moving the flesh sheath up and down over his up-bent shaft.
"I don't know w-when. Eventually ... yeah, eventually. Hey, let's fuck, huh?"
Abruptly, Sheila ceased her rubbing of his genitals. She withdrew her hands and said, "Hmmm, 'eventually' isn't any time soon, is it?"
He grabbed her wrists and placed them back on his prick. "We'll talk about it later. Right now, let's get it on. Give me a little head before I stick it in, all right?"
She withdrew her hands once again and hastily turned over on her side, away from him. Instantly, he had the head of his prick at the entrance of her vagina, trying to force an entrance now from the rear. "Hey, you weren't ever a tease, or a-a gold digger? What's happening? Let's make love now. We'll talk about the pool tomorrow."
Sheila was glad that Ginger had satisfied her sexually that afternoon. The truth was, her vagina was gushing and she was more eager than Mike could possibly know that she longed for his thick prick to fuck her hard, to give her a male delivered orgasm, to blot out the fears that she might be a latent lesbian. But she resisted the urge to submit, playing for higher stakes. Ginger had said it all, and she believed that the time had arrived to bring a halt to her exploitation by males. As Ginger had said:
... sexual satisfaction, then sexual denial ... the fastest route to disciplining the male animal....
It was a worthwhile goal, Sheila was certain. She could get all the sex she wanted. Any woman could. But why not have the sex and someone who was respectful and obedient at the same time? No, she mustn't yield now, she decided. She was on the verge of victory. Richie had yielded, and now there was an opportunity to make Mike surrender, too.
Mike's hands reached around her and grabbed her breasts very roughly now, and he was probing with fury to get the head of his cock into her cunt from the back. She reached around and shoved his organ away. He went into a rage then, straddling her with his knees and gasping. He reached up and flicked the light back on, then stared down at her. His breath came fast, insanely.
"Listen, bitch, I don't know what's going on, but in about two seconds I'm gonna rape my own wife, do you hear?" he ranted.
"Not advisable," she said. "I don't think you'd enjoy fucking a live corpse. I'll lie there like a stone. You want that?" Actually, she was terrified, but she knew that her husband was not a violent man. He was capable of great anger but not violence, and it was this knowledge that enabled her to remain steadfast in her plan.
He clutched at his face with both hands, in a gesture of frustration, agony. "Just what the hell is it you want, woman?"
"A swimming pool," she said. "I want a pool and I want to know when you're going to build it for me."
"All right ... all right," he said. "Sometime this summer we'll build a pool. Oh, damn it. Look! My hard-on has gone away. I don't even know if I can get it up again. Jesus, this hasn't happened to me in years. Look what you've done. Okay, give me some head, damn it. Make it hard and let's fuck. NOW!"
Sheila studied her husband's handsome cock that had drooped and now resembled a banana angling downward.
"Mike, do you realize you used to-to go down on me all the time? You never do that to me anymore. You're always insisting that I suck you off, or at least suck you before we fuck. What about me? Don't you think that I have needs anymore?"
"I'm sorry," he said, shuddering, the agony still prominent on his handsome features. "Just help me out tonight. Jesus, I feel as if I'm some teen-ager trying to coax a virgin to jerk me off or something. Please, Sheila?"
"No, tonight we'll take care of Sheila's desires for a change. I want your mouth on my cunt-for as long as I want. We're going to do it my way. Then we'll take care of you."
"Anything," Mike said hoarsely. "Whatever you say...."
Sheila had experienced enough oral sex for one day-from Ginger-but the thought of vengeance, of asserting herself sexually, brought a tingling sensation to her vagina. Ginger had spoken of sitting on her face, and it occurred to her that she had never done that to Mike. Often, he had straddled her and used her mouth as a cunt, but she had never forced him to reciprocate.
"Lie on your back, Mike," she ordered. "With the pillow under your neck."
"We're going to fuck with you on top?" he asked, almost smiling. "Sure, fine, anything you say, baby."
"No, I want you to eat me in that position-for a long, long time."
"You know I love to tongue your box, honey. It's been a while since I did that, but I love it. Sure."
He got into position, and then Sheila straddled him and slowly worked her way up to his chest until her cunt was near his chin. She felt strong, towering above him this way, and she reached down and spread the lips of her vagina, exposing her expanded clit and the inner folds of her glistening pussy. She knew then the way a male must feel when he holds a woman by the head and, gripping his hard-on, forces it between her lips. Yes, for once the roles were reversed and she delighted in playing the aggressor, the dominant partner.
"Lick it, Mike," she commanded. "Eat it and make love to it with your lips and tongue, Mike. I want to watch you gorge yourself on everything I have down there." And with that, she allowed herself the luxury of grabbing the back of his neck and lowering her cunt directly into her husband's face.
"It-It's a bee-auuut-eee-ful puss," he said, staring admiringly at the exposed love hole. "I'm going to lick it like it's never been licked before."
Sheila almost grinned, but the feeling of power she felt prevented it. No, she was deadly serious. "Like never before, huh? Wanna bet?" But of course she couldn't possibly explain about Ginger.
Mike hesitated, his mouth open and ready to lick cunt, but he stopped. "Just what does that mean?"
"Never mind, Mike," she said. "Just start in nice and slow. I want to watch you gobble me. Don't stop-no matter what. I'm going to ride your face, honey. I'm gonna make your face all soppy-wet. This is important to me." She pulled hard upward on his neck, burying his snout in her hole, and then she began working his head back and forth against her clit. To insure his sexual interest, she reached behind her with one hand and lightly massaged his prick and fuzz covered testicles.
The thrill of riding her husband's defiant face sent shivers of delight coursing throughout her entire body. It was like riding a horsie, or a pony, and she was totally in control. She listened to him fight for breath as she smothered his nose, eyes, forehead, chin, every feature of his so-called superior male face with her gushing female juices. Yes, this was the way Ginger intended to ride her own face. Well, so be it! she thought.
She removed her hand from his cock now and concentrated solely on the face that she smeared totally with her crotch. Moving up a bit, she managed to achieve the stimulation of her rectum, too. Yes, his tongue was gobbling her from her tailbone to her clit, but still she wanted more! With both hands beneath her husband's head now, she lifted with a vengeance until he gasped for air. She permitted him to breathe for a moment, then spread the lips of her vagina once again, re-grasped the back of his head and gyrated the entire lower portion of her body.
"Eat it ... suck ... swallow ... gobble it all, you son-of-a-bitch!" she rasped. "Swallow my cunt whole!"
She saw that even his hairline was wet from her lubricant. She took his hair in both hands and drove her nerve center with mighty friction exclusively against his nose. His eyebrows were dripping wet, too, and the spectacle of his cunt-wet face had her near the brink of a mighty climax.
She backed off then, making him roll her nipples between his fingers before she resumed her face-ride. He pleaded for mercy then, begging her to let him stick his prick inside her.
"Not yet, damn it!" she swore. "Not yet."
She decided to come then, right in his face, the way he had used her so many times.
"Rub my nips and suck," she said. "Hard! Harder!"
The waves of approaching orgasm were cresting. She could feel the climax nearing, ready to explode. She had come before today with Ginger, but that had been a passive climax. But now she was the aggressor; she was dictating the tempo, calling out the instructions to the submissive male and she knew a thrill she had never dreamed possible. It was total bliss.
With each mighty thrust she scraped her dripping vagina in a foot-long sweep across Mike's drenched face. Then as the orgasm loomed just seconds away she shortened her pelvic jabs so that she rode just his out-thrust tongue for maximum friction. "I'm using your face! I'm fucking your goddam face, Mike!" And then she began shuddering helplessly, collapsing forward with both hands against the headboard for support. Her gasps seemed not of this earth as she shivered out the aftermath of the incredible but dwindling current that shook her body.
It was different than her come with Ginger. A beautiful way to come, but totally different. No, she thought, even now as she climbed off his face, you could not compare the two comes. They were both mind-blowers, but they were totally different. She lay on her back, thinking of nothing and everything....
Almost immediately, Mike tried to mount her.
"No, Mike," she said firmly. "I can't do anything more tonight. It-It's unthinkable. I'm sorry, but I'm completely spent. You'll just have to-to jerk yourself off. I'll take care of you another time."
With effort, she reached up with her weary arm and snapped off the light and turned once again on her side, facing away from her unfulfilled husband.
"Rotten bitch," she heard him mutter, and then she felt the bed rocking as he masturbated. His tempo increased soon, and then the movement ceased after a long sigh. Soon she heard him snoring. For once in her life, she had used her husband instead of the reverse. She felt infinitely proud of herself. But she had a promise to keep-to young Richie-and she intended to keep that promise. Very slowly, she slipped from her husband's bed and tip-toed down the hall to Richie's room. She opened the door with great patience, so that it made no sound.
"Richie?" she called in a hoarse whisper.
No answer.
She made her way to his twin bed, knelt down and jiggled his shoulder. "Richie? Are you awake?"
"Sure," he said. "You promised to visit me. You don't think I'd go to sleep after you promised, do you?"
"You men are all alike," she said softly, kissing his cheek. "Why do you think I'm visiting you?"
He put his eager hand on her naked breast. "I don't know, but I hoped you might let me fuck you. Could I? I never fucked a girl. Would you let me?"
She pondered this request. Finally, she decided that, for disciplinary reasons, she would save this ultimate favor for later. "Not tonight, dear. That will come later-if you continue to mind. There's the matter of your school grades, you know. I want to see straight A's, understand? Say 'Yes, ma'am,' Richie."
"Yes, ma'am," he said. "You know, Sheila, it's weird but I like to mind you. I like for you to tell me what to do."
"Yes, I'm told that's perfectly natural. That's very good, Richie. Now listen-you were a very good boy today, and so I am going to reward you again. But I must repeat that secrecy is vital. Is that clear?"
"Y-Yes, ma'am," the boy said. "I'll never tell anyone."
Sheila stood and told him to do likewise. He obeyed, and then she instructed him to nurse on her nipples. She did not require any further sexual stimulation-that was certain-but she felt it necessary for disciplinary and instructional purposes. She watched him suck each nipple, guiding him in the use of pressure and the gentle use of his teeth.
After several minutes she could not stand any more. She was spent from Mike's gobbling. Still, she wanted to test him for further docility. She made him sit on the bed again and, lifting one leg so that it rested on the bed, she told him to lick her vagina.
"Yes, ma'am," he said. "But where'! Do I suck or lick or what?"
"Lick it everywhere, Richie, until I tell you to stop-but especially at the top." She guided his tongue to her sensitive clitoris. "There," she said. "A girl likes her cunt licked right there."
Actually, the licking hurt a bit. Her vagina had taken quite a beating this day. But she liked the idea that both father and son had licked her cunt within minutes of each other.
"Very well, Richie," she said, wincing slightly in the darkness. "That's enough. Usually, a girl likes to be eaten longer than that, but for tonight that is sufficient. You see, your father licked my cunt for a very long time a little while ago. He made me come that way. Therefore, I'll repeat what I did to you this afternoon-as a reward for your obedience. Lie back now, young man."
Richie lay back at once, and when her hand found his organ she was not surprised that it was rock-hard and ready for sucking.
"Dad licked your pussy tonight?" he asked, his breath coming fast.
"Oh, yes. We suck and lick each other frequently," she said. "Adults are fond of sucking each other as well as fucking."
"Gee, I can hardly wait to grow up," Richie said. "I want to learn to fuck."
"You'll learn because I'll teach you someday, but for now you'll have to be content with a blow-job." She liked using the slang terms for his young ears. "Ummm, you're nice and hard. Now my mouth will suck you off."
She bent down then, and took the boy's prick. Oddly, she hungered for the feel of his sperm in her mouth once again. She had denied the father, and now she was satisfying the son. There would be times in the future, she guessed, when she would often deny the son and satisfy the father ... and all with the objective of bringing both males under complete control. It was going to be a fascinating experiment all right-an adventure. She could hardly wait to inform Ginger of the progress she had made. There was so much she still had to learn, however.
Richie had grown considerably bolder since she had sucked him off earlier. He raised his hips high from the bed to meet each of her downstrokes and he called her name out as she sucked the throbbing hard-on. He spoke of "love" and, most important, he swore he would mind her always. His attitude was superb, and so she decided to give him an additional reward. She ceased her cocksucking briefly and said, "Here, let me sit with my head against the wall, dear. We will not fuck yet, but I will show you the nearest thing to fucking known to man." Sheila lay with her back on the bed and her head propped up against the wall with a pillow for support.
"Now come to me, little man. That's it, put one knee on each side and use your imagination. Pretend my mouth is a pussy and fuck between my lips. Understand?"
He hesitated, obviously wanting to obey but apparently shocked.
"You needn't worry, dear. Men and women do this all the time. Come ... fuck me in the mouth."
"Yes, ma'am," Richie said, and then his firm young ass was pumping involuntarily as he thrust his delicious young hard-on steadily into her mouth. She held his buttocks in both hands, loving the boy's innocence and the feel of the circumcised cock ramming itself with restraint into her throat.
Twice she made him stop as she inquired if it "felt good." And both times he managed to stammer, "Yes, ma'am-b-better than anything I-I ever f-felt."
"Then go ahead and come, darling. You've obeyed me, so go ahead and come in Sheila's loving mouth."
When he was ready, she sensed it and groped his young, firm scrotum hard in her squeezing hand as he fired his sperm-load. She drank greedily, restraining herself from inserting a finger in his rectum. That would come later. She did not wish to shock him, or spoil him too much either, this first day.
He told her he loved her before she left the room, and she told him she loved him, too. "But only as long as you obey me without question."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, smiling. "Always. But when can I-I fuck you in your pussy?"
"In due time," she said. "Perhaps after your next report card comes out. That will depend upon your grades and how well you've done your household chores." She stood then and went to the door. Suddenly a thought struck her. A little additional pressure on Mike wouldn't hurt at all, she decided.
"Also, Richie, you might ask your father when he expects to build our swimming pool. Tell him your eager for its completion-as soon as possible. Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," Richie said, still breathless. "Uh-swimming pool? Really?"
"Yes, that's correct," Sheila replied. "Your father has promised to build us a swimming pool."
"Gee, that's terrific," Richie said.
"Yes, terrific. In fact, when the pool is completed-well, that's when I'll let you stick that lovely big prick of yours right where your dying to stick it, understand?"
"Yes, ma'am!" Richie cried with enthusiasm. "Night Sheila."
"Good night. I'm sure you'll sleep tight."
CHAPTER THREE
There was dead silence during breakfast the following morning. Mike gulped his coffee and gobbled a breakfast roll, then left hastily for work without even saying goodbye. Sheila felt no regret over last night's sexual denial. She meant business. She wanted that swimming pool, and she wanted her husband to arrive home at a decent hour. He had no kick coming, she felt sure. He had neglected her sexual needs for months and last night she had simply turned the tables on him so he would know how it felt. Ginger was right; males had dominated females long enough. It was time they found out how it felt to be a second-class citizen.
Sheila stretched, still in her robe, and she realized that last night's riding her husband's face had relieved her tremendously. Yes, she had experienced exquisite orgasms while riding her husband's face-grinding her cunt so fiercely over his superior and arrogant nose, chin, mouth, everywhere. Now, gazing at young Richie who was slowly eating a bowl of cold breakfast cereal but glancing at her parted robe whenever the opportunity afforded itself, she purposely altered the strap of her nightgown to allow him a good view of her naked breast.
He swallowed and Sheila smiled, loving her new-found sense of power. Suddenly, she knew not why, she stood and went over and stood beside him. Her exposed breast was level with his face. She reached down, took the spoon from his hand, then turned his head so that it was nearly touching her chest. He swallowed, glancing at her questioningly. When she did not speak, he said, "L-last night was s-super, Sheila. I don't know what I can ever do to-to thank you."
She pressed his cheek against her erect nipple and enjoyed his breath coming faster.
"Yes, you do, young man," she whispered. "I've already told you. All you have to do is obey. I want unquestioning obedience-that and a straight A report card." She ran her fingers through his dark blond hair, then clutched him hard so he winced. "Also, from time to time I will expect certain body service from you-without question and always to my total satisfaction. Understand?"
He nodded, still not certain what she wanted of him.
"I understand," he said, his hard-on apparent beneath his tight-fitting denims. "Uh-yes, ma'am."
"Now, suck my tits before you run off to school." Almost brutally, she crushed her nipple against his upper lip and he nuzzled, like a puppy trying to nurse until he had the nipple in his mouth. She ran her fingers up and down his throat as he nursed, reveling in the gulping throat, the jugular that moved as he sucked. Without warning, she removed her nipple from his gobbling lips and slapped him hard across the face.
"You little bastard!" she snarled. "Haven't you learned yet how to suck a woman's tits?" She reached out again and pulled his face back so that he was staring up and contorting his young features. "How many times must a woman instruct you? Huh? Eh? Eh?" With each question she jerked hard at the hair of his scalp and he emitted a little squeal that was music to her ears.
"I'm sorry, Sheila," he apologized. "W-What do you want me-me to do? I'll do anything--anything. J-just tell me what to do."
"I'm not going to spell everything out for you, Richie. I expect you to use your imagination. You're an intelligent boy. Suck my tits like you mean it. Now!"
He seemed on the verge of tears as he began nursing and licking from one nipple to the other in earnest.
"Louder! Louder!" Sheila commanded. "I want to hear the sucking sounds." She gripped his chin fiercely as she stared down at her slave, guided his noisy feast on her swollen nipples.
In a minute, she saw that his hard-on was very urgent. He was beginning to drip through his pants. As he went on sucking, she reached down with her right hand and unleashed his prick. Slowly, she worked its flesh sheath back and forth until he began groaning.
"Never thought you'd meet a female like me, did you?" she said, grinning. "You thought females were sugar and spice and all that crap. Well, brother, are you ever in for a surprise." Sheila knelt then beside his chair and took his hard-on slowly into her mouth. There was much lubricant on its head and she worked up from the base methodically so that she could drain his flesh member of its young and vital and tangy male lubricant. She loved sucking the young prick, true, but what really turned her on was the fact that with each bizarre sex-session she was creating a more devoted slave. Hell, she could do anything she wanted with this young male. It gave her an overwhelming sense of power.
When the pulsing erection felt as if it were about to explode its jizm in her mouth, she ceased her sucking efforts abruptly. Again, she slapped him, this time pushing his bowl of cereal away afterward.
"You want to eat?" she said, musically. "You'll eat what I tell you and when. Here ... here's your breakfast. Eat, eat my cunt until I tell you to stop."
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, aroused and totally confused at the same time.
Sheila stepped out of her clothes and left them in a pile there on the dining room floor. Then, standing totally naked before him, she raised her foot and placed it on the table. "You like girls' holes, don't you?" she inquired casually. You love to kiss them and suck on them, don't you? Well, go ahead. Stare at my pussy for a minute or two and then just let yourself go. Just lick my hole all over. Lick my clit and lick my drippings. Lick my-my ass, Richie J"
She shoved him down in the chair and directed him to her cunt. She held him off at a distance, making him stare at her hole while she parted its lips, ran her finger up and down its length, finally transferring her lubricant from her middle finger to his mouth.
She went on and on that way, force feeding him and loving the confused lust on his young features. "That's it, Richie," she purred, "keep licking the juice off my finger. Just lick it the way I lick your cock. Taste good, hmm?"
"Ummm," he replied, lapping her finger clean each time she presented to his parted lips. "Ummmm ... erghmmmm," he grunted.
"Of course you do. All men love cunt, Richie. Don't they? Now show me how much you love to eat my cunt. Show me!"
Richie was a most willing pupil. He buried his snout in her channel and gulped greedily as she rotated his face just where she wanted it. "Now the top," she commanded. "The top. Eat the clit for a while and make me almost come, then go back to the other places."
She rode his face, making firm contact with her swollen clitoris only for perhaps two minutes. Then she shoved him away just before she climaxed. Actually, what she wanted to do this fine morning was totally humiliate him. There would be time to build him up later, in the many days and nights to come. Right now she was bent on leaving him baffled, confused, even hurt by her abuse of him.
It seemed the perfect time for abusing a male. The little prick was so cunt-hungry he would lick the floor if she ordered him to. Now she shoved down on his shoulders, lowering him and at the same time scooting forward so that her anal cavity came in contact with his lips. He seemed to resist, ever so slightly, and she gave his hair in her hand another sharp pull.
"When I say lick I mean lick!" she shrieked. "I'm nice and clean down there from you and your father licking everything last night, so lick!"
He complied, gradually liking it, even clutching her firm ass while he tongued. When she had had her fill of that, she once again pulled him away so that she could inspect his wet face. His eyes were closed but blinking, and he seemed in a near state of shock. She reached down and teased the dripping head of his erection with her fingertips, gathering his drippings. This time she forced him to lick his own lubricant from her fingertips until she once again returned his gobbling snout to her love nub.
"Good, yes, nice," she ordered, complimenting his noisy feast. "We'll make a cunt-lapper out of you yet, young man. Whenever I snap my fingers I want you to run, fall down on your knees and salivate, understand?"
"Y-Yes, ma'am," he replied, dazed.
"Good, now make me come, and when I'm through I want you to stand up, let me sit down and I'll suck you off. Do you hear? After I've come I'll suck you off and then you can run off to school and stare at all those prim little girls who won't even let you feel their tits. So if you ever try to tell anyone about me, they won't believe you.-They'd never believe you, would they?"
"No, ma'am," Richie mumbled. "Now?"
"Yes, you may begin, Richie. And you'd better make it good. Nice and noisy and with your head wagging from side to side until you feel me shudder and I tell you to stop."
The boy was so eager to please that he pressed too hard. Twice, Sheila had to slap him, reprimanding him severely before returning his tongue to the top of her twat. She leaned back as he worked furiously, staring down at the beardless face that brought her closer and closer to the heights.
As the end approached, she spurred him on with obscenities. "Good boy ... ahhh, yessss ... suck cunt, Richie ... suck pussy ... gobble it ... make it come ... swallow as you work ... I want to see you swallow my juice every once in a while as you eat ... ahhh yes that's good ... Ohhh, yesss ... yeah ... grab my ass harder ... suck like you mean it "
And then Sheila felt her knees trembling, going weak, weaker as the orgasm approached and the young face worked faster and faster against the nerve center of her desire. She was slamming her cunt very hard at the face, the mouth that gobbled and grunted so wetly and beautifully, using this male to achieve her desperate need. As she orgasmed, she threw her head back and emitted a loud wail, tugging fiercely at his hair and using his face to wipe her gushing slit.
"Ahhhhhhh," she heard her own voice wail, and then, shivering from head to toe, she hurled him to the floor and collapsed into the chair. For what seemed a long time she sat gasping, her body convulsing. It had been a good come. Yes, all her comes had been mind-blowers, it seemed, since the first time with Ginger. It was as though she had become a sex machine, as though she could experience orgasm after orgasm. It was the sight of males being used, she guessed, that made her coming so intense. It was a brand-new, weird and glorious thing she had discovered.
When finally she had regained her breath sufficiently, she said, "Get up off the goddam floor and stand up here, Richie."
The boy was staring at her, bleary-eyed, cringing, but there was an eagerness there along with his confusion. Males, she thought. Men ... they're just pricks to he used, to keep on hand for when you want to use them. She delighted in the way she had been able to play her new role. It was almost as if she could go temporarily insane at will, become something beyond her wildest imagination. She was no longer sexually in need-that was for sure since she had come deliciously-but the thought of sucking the boy off and somehow degrading him at the same time spurred her on.
"Get up!" I said. "Bring that dribbling cock of yours over here. My God don't you ever get soft. Do you just hang around with a hard-on all the time waiting for something to stick it in? Is that it? Goddamit, I said get that prick and balls over here to my mouth. Now!"
Richie leaped to his feet and stood with his prick at her waiting mouth. Apparently I've frightened him, she thought. His throbbing hard-on has actually drooped a bit. "Poor baby," she whispered. "Did Sheila scare her little lover? Aww, mama is sooo sorry. I guess I do get carried away when you're sucking my pussy. Here, let me make my little man feel good now, hmm? Yes, I'll make it feel good-better than anything."
He was trembling all over now as she teased each of his nipples with her fingertips, cradling his cock between her cheek and shoulder and kissing it as she chanted lovingly. Soon she could feel that the prick was bone-hard once again and pulsing, dripping, flowing onto her shoulder. She ran her hand down his back to his firm, young buttocks and teased the cleft of his ass.
"Place your legs farther apart," she ordered. "I want to offer you still different sensations while I suck you off? Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, his voice quivering.
His pants were down around his ankles so he could not obey, but he did not know what to do. He just shivered, confused, crying a bit as his breath came fast, uncontrollably.
"Take off your fucking pants!" she screamed. "How can I get at your asshole if your legs are together?"
Babbling apologies, he hastily stepped out of his pants.
"I want your shirt all the way off!" she yelled.
Then, except for his shoes, Richie stood naked there by the breakfast table, his lovely hard-on arching up toward the ceiling. She bent low and kissed his balls, licking them and cooing. She worked the flesh sheath slowly back and forth while she took each of the almond-shaped testicles deep into her mouth. He groaned above her, and she looked up to see him covering his moaning mouth with his forearm. Helpless, she thought. Beautifully helpless ... enslaved....
Tonguing his navel, she massaged his big prick and balls, interrupting her loving labor only to compliment him on the immensity and firmness of his meat hunk. She kept finding synonyms for cock as she let the compliments flow. "I love your meat, Richie," she said. "Ummm, what a be-uhtee-fulll hard-on. My, who would ever guess a slim boy like you would have such a delicious wanger to suck and kiss and lick. Ummm. This time when you come I want you to look down just as you shoot your white love juice. I'll keep my mouth open so you can watch your load squirt all over my tongue. Would you like to watch your sticky goo fire into mama's mouth, hmmm? Wouldn't you love to fill up your step mommy's throat with all that stuff inside your balls? Yes, what a huge, enormous, yummy, squirting prick-cock-bony stuff cunt-crammer you have, Richie. Uh-put your legs a little farther apart and slowly-very slowly-stick your big rod into my mouth. Good ... ummm ... feel good?"
"Y-Yes, m-ma'am," Richie stammered, pumping tentatively, a bit fearfully, as she ran her fingers up and down the insides of his legs, each time barely grazing his balls. She forced his legs apart even farther as she accepted his purplish, dribbling prickhead into her gulping maw. She let the sides of her mouth gently worry the outer flesh as the cock probed steadily deeper into wet-warmth. And then he was fucking her mouth.
She let him fuck that way, each stroke growing bolder, for perhaps several minutes before she eased her middle finger slowly between his ass cleft and lightly teased his puckered anus. His cock seemed to grow still more steel-like as her finger increased its pressure, gently fingerfucking his rear without actually making entry. She groped in a steady rhythm at his balls while his prick slid faster and faster against the roof of her mouth.
And then he was bucking, out of control, his breath a thing of delicious anguish-raspy, wheezing, tossing his head from side to side.
"Tell mama when you want to squirt, baby," she cooed, rubbing the big head about her chin and thrusting still harder with her middle finger into his anus. She guessed now that she could safely deliver a bit of pain, that it would intensify his pleasure, so she purposely let her fingernail dig lightly into his rear as her hand worked.
Now the young, hard cock was totally out of control-jabbing, filling up her mouth relentlessly while the wheezing sounds came staccato-like with each desperate thrust. She cupped his balls still harder, squeezing, trying for all the preliminary juice before the big squirts that would flood her mouth. It was if she had chanced upon a den of snorting, rutting hogs; his grunt-thrusts were that loud! Her finger was in him to the second knuckle now, and then he began grunt-roaring, signaling his impending orgasm. She let his thrusts bang deep into her throat, loving the pain he was inflicting without knowing it.
"Now?" she asked. "Now? Now? You must tell me when. Now?"
Exposed to cold air the way his organ was while she queried him, he seemed in a temporary hell. Desperately, agonizingly, he hollered. "NOW! SHEILA, NOWWWW! Puh-leeezzze!"
"Then look down, Richie," she cried. "I want you to look down and watch. See my mouth is open. Just a few strokes more with my lips tight around it and then I'll open up and you can watch all your juice squirt right inside. Then I'll swallow it all while you finish pumping whenever you want. Do it!"
She took the jerking, rigid meat shaft deep into her mouth and swirled her tongue about its head, groping steadily at his scrotum. And then she felt the first indescribably delicious, very warm clump of come fire into her mouth. Instantly she opened her mouth wide and gazed up. Yes, he was watching ... his mouth open, his jaw slack, his eyes crazy with relief and lust as clump after clump of jizm poured into her eager, waiting gullet.
When she was certain his flow of salty spend was over, she clamped her mouth tightly about his prick-way down at the base so as to let none of the love fluid escape-and clutched his ass hard, her finger out now and just holding him as close as possible.
He gasped, he twitched, he groaned, spasmed, slumped over her and held her head hard, totally out of it. Slowly, he slumped down to the floor and lay in a fetal position, writhing with his eyes rolling back in their sockets.
With the back of her hand she wiped her chin, swallowing, and said, "Now get dressed and get the hell out of here. And be home immediately after school, do you hear? If you're late, you'll regret it the rest of your life, young man. You've experienced the sexy side of me, but you've only had a taste of my mean side. Now get the fuck out!"
Totally confused and twitching, Richie got his pants on, then ran from her sight with his shirt in his hand. In a moment, she heard the front door slam. She sat staring at the dishes on the table. She put her face in her hands then, squeezed her eyelids tightly together and began to cry. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks and she dabbed at them with the heels of her hands. God, she thought, what has become of me? What am I doing to that boy-and his father? Indescribable remorse and guilt surged through her. It was as if she went into a trance sometimes-an insane, man-hating trance. Either that or a sex-crazed, insatiable whore-like trance. Her behavior had become so unpredictable. It was as though she were possessed-enslaved by the strange and witch-like black-leather woman who lived next door. By Ginger Winters. Yes, the strange lady next door must have enslaved her in some way to make her speak and behave in a way that was so foreign to everything she had always stood for.
She stood up suddenly and began putting the dishes into the dishwasher, clattering them loudly, doing anything to blot out the memory of her rasping words instructing and scolding Richie. Was she losing her mind? It felt like it. She hadn't intended to do anything to Richie. She had only intended to give him a motherly kiss and send him off to school, then visit Ginger next door. But some strange demon had seized her and seemingly directed her to abuse and pervert the young boy. It was eerie, frightening, spooky the way her moods and behavior changed without warning or reason.
No, she would not visit Ginger today, she decided. She did not want to see anyone for fear she might attack them or rape them-possibly even try to murder them. Without bothering to dress or eat, she went quickly to the bedroom, got in and covered her head with the blanket. She remained there all day, bewildered and baffled and more fearful than she had ever been before in her life.
CHAPTER FOUR
Three days passed. Instead of arriving early home from work, Mike Pelham came home later each night and always he was quite drunk. Sheila said nothing. She was convinced that her approach-her following Ginger's advice-had dealt a severe blow to her marriage. As for Richie, she felt convinced that she had probably warped him for life. Since that morning at the breakfast table he had barely spoken to her. True, he did his chores faithfully and he studied diligently in his room, but he avoided her eyes and slinked around as if he were a whipped puppy. Sheila did not bother to dress or put on make-up. Or even bathe. She kept the shades drawn and hugged herself, rocking back and forth on the living room couch. Some magnet seemed to be tugging at her, some force beckoning. What could it be? Perhaps it was guilt, she thought, because she had let the house go unattended as well as herself. No, it was something far more persistent and urgent.
This morning it seemed to be exerting an even greater force than during the two preceding days. Terrified, desperate, she forced herself to open the drapes and let the sunlight flood the room. Tiny dust specks swirled in the harsh sunlight. Like little universes all in themselves, she thought, staring and studying them in their strange little orbits. Soon she would go mad, she feared. She had to get out. She had to do something. With effort, she ran to the bathroom, turned on the shower, stepped out of her nightgown and robe and got in.
She scrubbed herself as if preparing for some weird ritual. She washed her hair, ran the terry cloth washcloth over her body punishingly, then dried her hair and dressed. She had hoped that bathing would clear her head, but still there was that strange compulsion to-to do what? She wasn't sure, but it felt as if she were being drawn to the house next door-to Ginger's house.
Finally, she could stand the pain no longer. She reached a decision to call on Ginger once and for all and get to the bottom of this mystery. She would confront the woman and ask her point blank if she were casting some unnatural spell on her. Just knowing would ease her anxiety. Yes, she had to find out. Then she could take steps to combat the woman's evil influence.
Sheila opened the sliding glass doors and stepped onto the brick patio in the backyard. It felt good to be outside after being caged up like a desperate animal for days. She strolled, humming a tune, taking deep breaths of fresh air, filling her lungs and reveling in the outdoors. And then she found herself walking toward Ginger's house, to the hedge that separated the two affluent homes. Finding herself at the gap in the hedge, she at first despaired that she had instinctively wandered to the house she feared. But she had decided to confront Ginger, hadn't she? "Well, so be it," she uttered aloud, stepping through the hedge and onto the Winters' patio.
The drapes were drawn, to her surprise. Somehow she had expected Ginger to be waiting for this visit. She rapped lightly on the kitchen door, but there was no answer. She called out, "Ginger? Ginger?" There was no response. Frowning, she knocked harder. Still no answer. She followed stepping stones along the overgrown side of the house until she came to a wooden gate. She opened the gate, walked quickly to the front door and rang the doorbell. No answer, but she was certain she saw the drapes in one of the front windows part slightly. Could it be Ginger peering out at her? She rang the doorbell again and again.
Finally, just as she was about to return to her house, the front door opened slightly and a voice, undeniably Ginger's, said, "It's you, Sheila, isn't it?"
"Yes, Ginger," Sheila said, wondering why her neighbor didn't just open the door.
"Good, I thought it was you," Ginger said hoarsely. "I've been expecting you. Come in."
The door opened just wide enough to permit one person to enter-and Sheila stepped onto the entry tile. The house was very dark, all the drapes drawn, and Ginger stood in the same black halter and shorts she had worn the first day Sheila had first met her. But now she held a leather whip in her right hand. Sheila noticed the wild-eyed expression on Ginger's face but it was too late to run. Instantly, the blue-eyed and scantily clad woman was upon her, crushing her to the tile floor, both hands tearing into her hair.
"God damn you!" Ginger shrieked. "God damn you!" Ginger began pounding Sheila's head hard against the stone floor, screaming and cursing, letting obscenities flow madly as she gouged and tore at her visitor. "Where have you been, you dumb heterosexual tramp? I have been sending you messages for days. Days! Why were you resisting me?"
Sheila felt that she would lose consciousness from the impact of the floor against the back of her head. But then the raging ceased and Ginger was standing over her, legs apart and nostrils flared, her enormous breasts heaving and looking ready to escape from the leather halter. The muscles in her bare legs flexed and her eyes were insane.
Without warning, the whip came down hard, stinging Sheila's shoulders. When Sheila reached for the whip, Ginger kicked hard, bending Sheila into a ball from the pain in her ribs. Again the whip landed, this time across Sheila's buttocks. Sheila feared for her life. She felt certain this woman was capable of lashing her to death.
"Please ... please," she heard herself whimpering, pleading. "I came, Ginger. Didn't I? Ginger, I came to you ... Stop it! Stop it! Don't hit me again."
She managed to tear the whip from Ginger's powerful hand then, but in rage and unbridled fury Ginger picked her up as if she were a shag rug and carried her in a bundle into the living room. There, she hurled her onto the black vinyl couch and stood trembling with narrowed eyes. Every muscle in her lean, curved body seemed taut, as if she were ready to spring. Suddenly she bared her teeth, tore at her clothes until she was stark naked and sprang. Sheila had hoped to talk, to reach some kind of truce, but the woman was inhuman. But now Ginger was mauling her, pressing her bare breasts against her cheeks, tugging at her hair, battering her with her knees.
"God damn you!" she kept screaming. "God damn you!"
"Ginger! Please! I-I came to report to you to tell you about-about seducing the boy. Yes, and about denying my husband sex! I came to you, Ginger. Let me talk ... explain. Stop it, and let me explain. Ohhhh...."
The words got through at last and Ginger ceased her merciless body attack, pulled Sheila's hair until the back of her head was pressed against her back. Oddly, Sheila found herself staring up into the cold, blue eyes and thinking: This is just what I did to poor Richie. Exactly. The same kind of abuse. It was as though Ginger possessed some strange communicable anti-male disease-some evil and contagious sickness that she was able to inflict on others. Yes, she must be a witch, Sheila thought.
"Never mind the explanations," Ginger hissed. "Just answer my questions. You seduced the boy?"
"Yes, I told you so."
"How?"
"I-I sucked him ... and I made him suck my cunt."
"He hasn't fucked you yet?"
"No."
"Why not?" Ginger spat, slapping Sheila hard across the face. "Why not? I wanted you to fuck him, enslave him. Why not?"
Sheila held her face, wondering if she might be bleeding. "Because I was s-saving that ... using it to make him more obedient. Holding out on him."
Ginger raised the butt of the whip now, preparing a vicious blow.
"No! No!" Sheila begged. "Wait! I denied my husband Ginger. I wouldn't let him touch me, and I made him eat me. I humiliated him, degraded him, made him feel like a low-life male. I-I've demanded a swimming pool, and ordered him to come home early. I won't let him watch TV. I make him work at home and-and I won't let him read his newspaper at night, Ginger. I've done what you ordered."
Ginger slapped Sheila anyway. "Ahhh, baby stuff," Ginger hissed. "You have to make him really squirm-beat him, fuck him in the ass. Do you hear? Until he grovels whenever you whistle, fears for his life, fears you'll cut off his fucking balls if he disobeys, you haven't totally dominated him. You're too easy. Now I'll show you what I mean. You'll learn this day, woman. You'll learn first-hand. By example."
"C-can't we talk f-first?" Sheila pleaded. "Please?"
Ginger snarled, shaking her head hatefully. "For my purposes, this moment, Sheila, you are a man. I shall demonstrate my methods. There is no other way. Later we will talk. But now I shall attack. Prepare yourself for the conversion, the inoculation-if you will-of the correct method. It is the only way. Prepare!"
Sheila raised her arms to shield herself, but it was useless. It was as if Ginger had the strength of ten madmen. With one swipe the woman tore the flimsy blouse free and sent the tattered bits of material to the floor. Then, straddling Sheila, forcing a breast at her mouth, she reached back and at the same time pulled off her slacks, her panties, and dug her fingers into her pubic mound.
"Suck tit!" she ordered. "Eat my nipple and keep eating-both of them-'til I order you to stop. Suck tit now!"
Sheila obeyed, doing her best to keep mouth contact with the big dark nipple as Ginger spread her cruelly and sank her fingers into her tender nest. Then Ginger was fingerfucking hard, viciously, at Sheila's vagina and rectum with her hand behind her back while the other hand kept forcing her nipple all over Sheila's face. Ginger emitted strange growling sounds that reminded Sheila of a rabid dog she had once heard in an animal shelter. The other breast found its way into her mouth and she was gagging, writhing to free herself but at the same time trying to cooperate to ease the assault.
"This is the way you treat men, my pet," she growled. "You force them to do your bidding. You beat them into the ground with your female weapons-the weapons they have used for their own selfish ends for so long."
Ginger's gouging fingers in her vagina were, strangely, becoming more gentle. Gradually, the fingers worked rhythmically and more gently until they were lightly massaging her expanded clitoris. The former feeling returned now, and despite herself, Sheila found herself moaning and sucking more appreciatively on the nipples which were being offered her alternately. Yes, this was the source of Ginger's power, Sheila realized. She should never have returned to let this evil woman overcome her once again. Her body was responding to the stimulation; she shuddered and gripped the white breasts willingly now; the steady tempo against her inflamed and eager pussy was driving her quietly and pleasantly mad with desire.
"Ohhhhhh, Ginger," she heard herself chanting. "I had to return to you ... had to ... had to ... ohhhhh...."
"Good," Ginger snapped. "Now you are in the desirable, favorable state. Listen and listen well. You will not resist me when you know I want you-either for my own pleasure or for further instruction. You will come to me when you feel me calling, understand?"
Sheila nodded, sucking Ginger's nipple and raising her hips to meet the fingers that sent tingling orgasmic chills up and down her spine. She felt she could come at any instant, but instinctively she awaited Ginger's command to do so.
"I am giving you this little respite before the hard stuff, my dear. You will see that the secret is all in alternating the hard punishment with the sexual stimulation. I will take you to the brink of exquisite sexual paradise and then I will brutally deny and even hurt you. You will see. As I said, there is no other way. When this day is through you will function as my disciple of pain."
Just then, Sheila reached the point of orgasm-no, just short of it. Desperately, she reached down with her hand and grasped Ginger's wrist to keep the finger against her clitoris. The little protuberance of flesh was ready to tingle, ready to come, and she needed this woman-inspired orgasm urgently. In fact, she would do anything to come at this instant.
And it was precisely at that instant that Ginger denied her. Ginger stood up, eyes narrowed. "Now come," she said. "Come with me."
She extended her hand and Sheila took the offered hand reluctantly. But there was no other course, she knew.
"Now comes the pain-the horrendous pain blended with the incomparable pleasure," Ginger muttered. "Trust me. I am experienced in these matters. You will survive the ordeal, but you will never, never forget it. To the bedroom where I can work on you-where I can demonstrate the anti-male techniques ... the ultimate weapons...."
Whimpering, Sheila allowed-no followed-her mistress of pain to the bedroom. At the end of the long hall, Ginger savagely slapped her captive, then dragged her by the hair to the leather bedspread and the soft-glowing red light.
"Sit down, pig-male," she commanded through clenched teeth.
Shivering, Sheila obeyed and sat on the edge of the bed, terrified, not knowing what to expect. Then, Ginger tossed her back, so that she lay flat. Ginger snarled, her face hideously contorted, then slowly spread her legs wide and studied her exposed vagina and rectum contemptuously.
"This is the manner in which the male pigs spread their females," Ginger rasped. "They exploit and use the female, use them as mere receptacles for their gristle wedges. I shall assume their hideous role-to the extreme-and you shall experience now their subjugation as you've never experienced it before. Then you shall understand, and you shall be able to apply it on your own husband and stepson, understood?"
Sheila put her hand over her breast protectively and nodded, terrified by the look on Ginger's face. "I-I understand," she replied.
"Good, we'll see," Ginger said.
Placing her hands beneath each knee, Ginger then dragged Sheila until her buttocks were at the edge of the bed. Then, the strong hands were raising the knees high, higher, until Sheila felt them pressed hard against her chest. The position was not uncomfortable, it was painful. Sheila could hardly breathe. She watched Ginger staring at her exposed crotch, staring at her cunt, her asshole, drinking in with her cruel eyes everything that was "private" that she possessed.
Slowly, without taking her staring eyes off the genital area, Ginger then began rocking the knees forward and backward, each time pressing the knees harder against Sheila's breasts and shoulders. Then, almost cackling, Ginger was working her knee onto the pie of Sheila's tender cunt, rotating it, like some enormous, bludgeon prick as she continued to rock the legs sticking into the air, back and forth, back and forth.
The knee pressing so brutally into Sheila's pussy and anus became a battering ram, but in some perverse and strange way it was not altogether unpleasurable. While it hurt, Sheila guessed that she had been preconditioned by years of brainwashing by the male animal to accept the widespread position and the using of her lower regions. Yes, that no doubt was precisely the point that Ginger was attempting to make. Ginger removed all doubt as to the why of this procedure then by slamming her knee harder and harder at her cunt and rectum, battering her so that she slid with each mighty thrust across the bedspread.
"It is clearly abuse, Sheila," Ginger said. "But you will notice that you do not find it demeaning and degrading, you see? The bastards have taught you that you belong on your back and spread like some helpless beast of burden. And you have believed them. They love you helpless. It delights them to see you in such a ridiculous position, even calling out for more. Don't you see what they have done to you? You might as well be a dog they are beating, or an enemy they are torturing while their filthy hard-ons lengthen and dribble and ready themselves to violate you."
What Ginger was saying may be true, Sheila thought but apparently the preconditioning by males had been most effective, for despite herself she felt the familiar passive arousal, the anticipation of being used, fucked. Still, she dare not let Ginger see that she did not find her spread and exploitive position objectionable.
But now the knee began ramming very hard, hurting. Just as Sheila was certain she could stand no more, Ginger eased up and began rotating the knee cap in a gender, circular motion.
"Now, as you will recall, many males at some point seek to make you believe you are being adored rather than used. The male would have you believe that by lapping your cunt that he is in some way humiliating himself before you. It is the most hideous lie ever perpetuated. I shall demonstrate."
Sheila watched her captor kneel before her, and then she felt Ginger's tongue begin a gobbling and gulping at her cunt such as she had never before endured-no craved! The tongue first lapped and laved about her inner thighs, above her mons veneris, her navel. Then, slowly and irrevocably, the tongue began narrowing the circle until it lapped up and down each outer lip-cleansing, snorting, darting, missing no pore of her outer vagina.
Abruptly, Ginger stopped and rested with her breasts hanging directly over Sheila's gushing twat.
"You see? Men would have you believe they are kneeling before you-lowering themselves to provide you with exquisite pleasure. In reality, they are merely trying to subjugate you further with their lies so that they can further use you make you cook for them, wash their clothes, demean yourself nightly in their beds. Don't you see the extent and enormity of their foul plot. Oh, yes, to be sure, many of them-most, in fact-are not aware of this evil plot, because they have been conditioned, too-for centuries. But that is what is taking place. I shall demonstrate further."
Once again, Sheila felt her eyeballs rolling to the back of her head as the tongue lapped noisily between her legs. Now, too, the smooth lips came into play, dining, clenching as the tongue went on lapping. Each side of her entire vagina felt sucked up as though by a vacuum cleaner as Ginger seemed to be trying to ingest her cunt whole!
The hungry, relentless mouth was inside then. Sheila felt Ginger's strong fingers spreading the drenched cunt lips as the long, anteater-like tongue seemed to coil steadily into her belly.
"Ahhhhh," Sheila heard herself sighing, unable to hold back this once-in-a-lifetime experience. The tongue seemed to be tickling her cervix! Such pleasure she had never imagined possible! Yes, the tongue was up as far as it could go-farther as the fingers probed her asshole and exerted a steady, rhythmic, mind-blowing against her swollen and begging clitoris. Instinctively, not wanting to but involuntary, Sheila spread herself even wider to accommodate the feasting mouth below. Eyelids fluttering, nearly blacking out for the orgasmic sensations, Sheila began pumping, raising her hips a bit off the bedspread with each darting tongue-fuck.
Just when Sheila thought she might come, Ginger once again ceased her laving efforts and rested above the drenched love hole. As if in a dream, Sheila's vision was blurred. But she could see that Ginger's face was glistening wet in the dim, red light. Her incisors resembled the fangs of a vampire, and cunt juice dripped from her chin, eyebrows, nose, everywhere, onto the cunt and belly that caved in and out with lust below.
"So you see," Ginger said. "You're loving every bit of it, aren't you? Well, I shall give you a bit more-and then you will know the whole story!"
As the mouth settled onto her cunt once again, Sheila thought she might lose consciousness from the pleasure. Head wagging as rapidly as possible from side to side, Ginger's tongue became a velvet jackhammer against her expanded and swollen love nub. Tingles of indescribable joy raced up and down her spine, colliding within her feverish and confused brain. And the fingers, side by side, simulating an erect cock were fucking her ass, driving upward and inward farther with each thrust.
The effect had Sheila babbling and hallucinating, begging for fulfillment. "Ohhhhh ... my cunt ... my ass ... Jesusussssss! Don't stop ... never stop ... Ginger, Ginger, Ginger ... I'll do anything, but never, never stop! Ooooohhhhhhhh!
Ah-ah-ah! I'll do anything you say, always, but for now m-make me come this wayyyyy! Oh, Jesus, I-I n-never before f-felt a-anything I-like it. Ginger, I'll be your slave, anything, but make me come n-nowwww! Puhleeezzzze! Hmmm? Hmmm? Ginger? GinnnnGerrrr!"
Once again, just as she was certain the spasms of orgasm would wrack her body, just as Sheila knew she would experience the most intense orgasm of her life, Ginger denied her.
The blurred face was hovering over her quivering cunt once again, dripping lubricant, almost grinning evilly.
"See how you love it?" Ginger said, out of breath, gasping. "Don't you see how they use you to their own ends? But, really, all they seek to do is stab you with their punishing cocks, use you as a receptacle, fill you with their sticky spend, even impregnate you so that you are gross and awkward and have to waddle helplessly around the house, so that you cannot escape them!"
In truth, Sheila didn't care. The whole male exploitive scene was merely what it was I She was surprised that Ginger did not realize that her demonstration was having the reverse affect. Exploited, used, demeaned, whatever, Sheila was thinking, Whatever it is, let me have it all-forever! Just make me come. Now! Please, God ... Please!
As if reading her mind, Ginger said, "I know exactly how you feel and exactly what you're thinking, my pet. But you wait! Just you wait!" Helplessly, Sheila began humping, raising her ass off the bedspread pleadingly, trying to make contact between her cunt and the dripping mouth that hovered just above it. Sheila wished her captor would stop talking and begin sucking and gulping and probing once again.
"And now for the biggest con job of all," Ginger said. "One would think a man doing such a thing-those of them who do-must be expressing total devotion. Well, I assure you the mild inconvenience of such a vile service is a small price to pay for making you believe they view you as a goddess. Once again, I shall demonstrate the ultimate sexual rip-off-really illustrate the evil male tactic at its depths."
And with that, Ginger's tongue began assaulting her captive's rectum. While her fingers maintained a light and fluttering and rippling contact with the juicy clitoris, her mouth gently explored the rim of her lower aperture. The tongue struck lightly and unpredictably, like that of a snake. It first darted against Sheila's tailbone, then worked tantalizingly downward, always nearing but never landing on the eye of her puckered anus. It hovered very low, then very high. Sometimes it stuck very high, actually up on the cheeks of her buttocks. Teeth, too, came into play. Nibbling, biting gently, alternating with the feel of wet tongue against Sheila's shivering flesh, the teeth brought previously unfelt sensations to Sheila's body.
Despite herself, Sheila found her hand in Ginger's hair, spurring her on, praying she would eventually home in on her spasming and waiting anus. She had never felt herself capable of responding to this attention on her most private of places, but now she understood desire for the forbidden as she had never understood it before. To her surprise, Ginger continued to deliver this form of weird pleasure, not even removing the hand that rested on the bobbing head.
Insanely, Sheila found herself thinking that she was glad she had showered, scrubbed herself so thoroughly before coming to visit Ginger this day. It was truly insane-like females who worried about having clean panties and bras on in case they were in automobile accidents. But remembering that she was clean-totally clean-enabled Sheila to relax totally and accept this bizarre form of stimulation from another female. Oh, yes, men were capable of delivering this sort of pleasure. They were capable of anything when in the throes of female arousal, making the female a slave and acting their dog-like praise of scents and invasion of females' bodies. But from a woman? Just what was Ginger driving at? She must love these acts. She had to be the consummate dyke in action, emulating everything that was male and overpowering and without daintiness or regard for all that was hygienic, proper, pristine.
The thought then struck Sheila that this was all a charade, a kind of farce, that in the guise of rendering her captive anti-male forever, Ginger was merely executing her own ravenous needs, perverse fantasies, her own desire to devour another female sexually. Could this be true? Sheila did not know, or for that matter, she did not care. The sensations were not of this earth; they were agonizingly delicious, beyond analysis.
And now the tongue was washing, bathing each interior of the scrubbed clean ass-cleft. The inside of each buttock wall was being adoringly cleansed, laved with slow, dog-like licks that were appreciative, thorough, deliberate. And all the while the massage against Sheila's ass went on, driving her to hysteria, Sheila saw colors; weird sounds seemed to be colliding within her skull. Involuntarily, Sheila began pinching her own nipples to add to the sensations that assaulted her shuddering young body.
When the tip of Ginger's tongue invaded her puckered anus, or rather just seconds before, the woman began an incredible rotating of each ass cheek. Yes, Sheila felt strong hands prepare her for the bizarre invasion. The hands kneaded fiercely, grabbed, clutched, gouged at her thrusting ass cheeks just before the tongue-tip struck the lower hole's entrance. Then, it darted and teased, probed. Sheila felt no sense of revulsion. She had been prepared too carefully for this intrusion. It was heaven, and then as one of Ginger's hands left her ass (while the other continued kneading) to inch up and resume the contact against her cunt's nerve center, it was total paradise!
For the third time, Ginger stopped just short of Sheila's impending climax. Was it three times? Sheila had lost count! Gasping, Sheila offered once again anything and everything if only Ginger would continue and take her to the heights.
But it didn't seem part of this domineering woman's plan, or did it? Sheila was not rational; she could neither focus her eyes nor speak intelligibly. Her ears heard a quiet roar, like ocean surf against snow-white sands. What was she doing now?
Sheila was only vaguely aware of the change in Ginger's position, and then she realized that Ginger had removed her clothes and, quite naked, had squeezed between her thighs and was pressing her clitoris against her own. Yes, Ginger was a woman who had assumed the male missionary position and was grinding her clitoris furiously against her cunt. It was an enormous clitoris-firm, like a small hard-on actually, and it seemed to be fucking, landing in just the right place, stimulating her own clit in a way that no man had ever achieved I And the hand was beneath her ass cheeks, clutching just like a man's hand as he lifted a woman to drive his spear-shaft, deeper, deeper. Except there was no prick within!
Then Ginger remedied this problem of the empty cunt by inserting two fingers firmly up into the seething snatch, filling it with piston-like jabs that perfectly simulated the prodding, relentless male cock. As the fingers fucked, clitoris rubbed clitoris. There were fingers in Sheila's juicy love hole, fingers in her expanded and willing ass, fingers probing and exploring in delightful rhythm everywhere. And then Ginger's mouth was gulping alternatively at the erect and insanely sensitive nipples.
Both women pumped hard, grasping as their clitorises made gnashing contact. Sheila's hands grasped her partner's tits, too, groping frantically and harshly at the huge nipples. And then Sheila let one hand steal around to Ginger's tensing ass and pulled hard with each thrust to increase the impact and friction against her pussy.
Gasps of urgent need, hoarse and desperate whispers were exchanged between the two females as they assaulted each other's bodies.
"Wrap your legs around me, you fucking bitch in heat!" Ginger rasped gutturally in Sheila's ear. "I'm fucking you, do you hear? I'm fucking your ass off. Give me all you've got, woman! I'm taking you. You can't stop me. I've got you spread wide and I'm slamming it to you. You'll never get fucked like this again. Never! Never! No man will ever give you a fuck like this. You're mine! You're mine! I've made your cunt a river. Your body is a slurping, shuddering blob. I've got you forever, bitch...."
"Ohhhhh, yessss," Sheila replied, and it occurred to her that they had not kissed ... they had not let their tongues intertwine. Why? Why? Was Ginger attempting to demonstrate the insensitive male? She had known men who did not care about kissing. Could that be Ginger's intention? But all the rest was so perfect.
Sheila lifted her buttocks savagely now, to meet each hard down-thrust of the woman who clutched and fucked her so selfishly, so totally without concern for anything but her own satisfaction. Gently, yet hungrily, Sheila ran her open mouth across her female-male's cheek until it pressed violently against Ginger's mouth. Ginger responded by filling Sheila's mouth with tongue, and then they both gulped greedily, twirling tongues and gasping as their lower bodies collided and their breasts rubbed hard against each other.
The feel of nipples against nipples, woman breast against woman breast was almost more than Sheila could bear. The combination of stimulations was maddeningly delightful-nipples to nipples, tongues swirling about each other, clitoris to clitoris, hands on tensing, thrusting buttocks as they shoved and squirmed and begged for fulfillment.
Once again, Ginger interrupted this most tantalizing of moments. It was as if she had more secret demons to release-things that had dwelled within her dormant for a lifetime. For now, she raised Sheila's legs high once again and, ceasing their tonguing, their clit-to-clit massage, she held Sheila by the ankles and, gazing down like men who enjoy watching the spearing in and spearing out, she watched her pelvis batter and ram the pelvis of her partner. Why? Oh, why? Sheila thought, for the moment descending from the heights. And suddenly she knew. Of course! Ginger had allowed herself-or was she compelled?-to play the role of the selfish, brutal male. She was fucking the female her way, without regard to what the woman beneath her needed, required.
This prickless fucking went on for perhaps a minute before Ginger stopped her hip-thrusts, kneeled down on the floor and licked from tailbone to clit very abruptly.
Just as suddenly, Ginger ceased her dog-like licking and stood up. Sheila emitted an hysterical squeal and raised her arms indicating she wanted her lover to return to her cunt and enveloping arms.
"I will return in a moment, Sheila," Ginger said, herself shuddering, and Sheila was pleased that her partner was no mere robot imitating the male. No, Ginger had been lost in the madness of the act as much as herself. That was clearly evident as her chest heaved and her shoulders shook spasmodically.
"Where are y-you going? Oh, Ginger, let's come the way we a-almost did. Oh, Ginger-please, please? I n-need you awfully. I never needed anyone more. Come to me. Now!"
"Not now," Ginger replied, regaining control. "No, there is simulation and there is the real thing. I'm going to give you the real thing. I'm going to give it all to you. When I-I have finished you will understand and you will never be the same again. You cannot ever return to what you used to be."
She turned then and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.
"I am making you over," Ginger called from the bathroom. She sounded as if she were busily doing something. "I am making you over into my own image and likeness. You will understand."
"Hurry, Ginger," Sheila cried, cupping her heaving breast with one hand, reaching down and stroking her drenched clitoris with the other. "Darling ... darling ... darling! You can't leave me hanging this way. I'll die. Come to me. Now I I'll make you come with my mouth. I'll do anything. But don't leave me this way. Come to me, come to me ... my gentle, harsh, desperate lover."
And then Ginger appeared in the bathroom doorway. She stood there, as if posing, a sadistic smile on her perspiring face.
"Did you say gentle?" Ginger inquired as if amused. Yes, despite her obvious sexual arousal, there was a strange amusement in her voice. Her dark eyebrows were raised arrogantly, mockingly, and then her mouth changed into a threatening leer and she raised her right arm with a flourish, catching Sheila's bleary-eyed attention. The extended index finger then slowly moved lower to point at her crotch.
In terror, Sheila gasped. "Oh, God!" Sheila cried. "No! No! Oh, no! You can't mean it! Ginger, by all that's decent, human ... please, just come and lie between my legs again. Take it off! You must take it off! You can't come near me with that on! No, I can't permit it! I couldn't t-take it!"
It was precisely the reaction that Ginger had anticipated, for she cackled hideously, slapping the huge leather dildo so that it waved from side to side menacingly. The thing had to be well over fourteen inches, a huge instrument that resembled a form of medieval torture, or something out of the Spanish Inquisition.
As Sheila began screaming hysterically, her face scrunched up in terror, tears streaming down her cheeks, Ginger began laughing loudly, then louder, louder. A broad and fiendish smile appeared on her face as her rasping laughter filled the room.
Sheila felt her throat vibrate as the ear-shattering screams filled the room. To drown her out, Ginger reached out and turned a wall switch and loud music filled the room.
Soon all Sheila could hear was pulsating, fortissimo, symphonic music.
"Scream all you want, my dear. Stravinsky's Rite of Spring will drown you out most completely. If you don't cease that infantile display of sexual fear-surely, not the same fear you displayed when some callous male deflowered you with such a relatively large flesh instrument and robbed your tight puss of its virginity-then I shall have to leave the music at this volume while I stab you this leather prick."
Sheila forced herself somehow to regain control of her screams and lay whimpering and eyeing the leather cock with its bulbous paraphernalia below that simulated male testicles.
Again, as if reading her victim's mind, the leering Ginger clutched the leather scrotum proudly, like a pseudo-macho male parading for admiring females.
"The leather receptacle below contains hot water, which I shall squeeze when I choose to fill your cunt with hot come. Yes, I shall hose your cunt out, purify it of all male sperm, past and present, that has defiled the cradle of your femininity."
And then, to terrify her prey, Ginger began doing a threatening dance to the ear-shattering music. She kept slapping the protruding leather dildo that seemed to stand out several feet and laughing at its huge arc as it swung back and forth. At the same time she pumped her hips, simulating fucking.
Suddenly she turned off the music and bent down and kissed the bulbous leather head of the big false prick. "Oh, soon you will reach far up into my student," she said to the dildo. "You will fuck her as she has never been fucked before. Do your work well, leather prick. Jab, thrust, pry, fuck her and make her yours forever. No ordinary male flesh-cock will ever satisfy her again. This is a sacred prick, my dear. It's designed for just this purpose. If you knew how many females it has rendered incapable of fornicating with males ever again, it would surprise you."
She laughed hysterically, throwing her head back and pretending to jerk it off, running her hands back and forth its exterior leather foreskin. It was a replica of a penis in every detail.
Even the foreskin seemed to be made of very thin, chamois-like leather that easily bunched and unbunched over the hard, inner stalk.
"Who could want a flesh-prick after this? Eh? Answer that one my little suburban housewife! The answer is NOBODY!! NO HUMAN BODY!! Why, the women who have been subjected to this can't even feel a man's cock against the walls of their vaginas. No friction, nothing. Well, that's an exaggeration, of course. I mean, I wouldn't want to maim you or anything, would I? No, I assure you I will be gentle, heh-heh. Well, as gentle as possible, that is."
Sheila sat up and scooted her knees up under her chin, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Please, Ginger? Put it away? Take it off and come and let's lie side by side, like before? I don't want that. I won't let you."
"Oh, listen to her," Ginger said, speaking to the dildo once again "She says she won't let us. I wonder what she said to the males with their ugly hard-ons when they had her trapped in their cars. Remember back in high school? Wasn't it really little more than rape? Put out or walk, wasn't it? And what if one of their pricks had been this size? Could you really have prevented them from sticking it in you? Yes, you would have let them fuck you, and you would never have known the difference. In fact, you would have been seeking such oversize monster pricks for the rest of your natural life."
Suddenly, uncontrollably, as Ginger advanced toward the bed, Sheila began emitting frantic short screams. She clamped her hands over her ears and thought she would go mad as she emitted staccato bursts of hysteria.
Soon, she knew not how long it took, but soon she felt Ginger's gentle hands removing her hands from her ears. Opening her eyes, she could not believe what she saw. Had she imagined the enormity of the leather prick she had viewed? Now, the dildo that was strapped about Ginger's waist was perhaps nine inches. Had she gone temporarily insane?
"What happened?" she asked, sighing, her sobs coming involuntarily, just as they had after a long cry as a little girl. "Where did that-that thing go? Did it s-shrink?"
Ginger bent over double with laughter, this time rather normal laughter. Finally, she dabbed at the tears on her cheeks and ceased convulsing with amusement.
"No, my pet," she explained, her voice rational once again. "No, it did not shrink. It was a merely a monstrosity I used to elicit total terror from you. I wanted you to experience abject terror of the male organ. It is all part of the conversion, the treatment. I wish for you to become accustomed to being frightened of men's pricks. It is, you might say, a form of brainwashing-most desirable brainwashing, Nothing more. Eventually when you use such an instrument on an actual male-namely your husband and stepson-you will come to think of a prick as a weapon. Something that is used to inflict pain and degradation. I would not use such an instrument on you. It was merely to frighten you."
"You succeeded," Sheila said coolly.
"Ummm, I can see your juicy and wet twat peeking out from between your legs. How lovely it is to view the female pussy when it beckons from bent knees that way!"
Abruptly, Ginger's mood changed and she became very matter-of-fact. "Yes, this leather cock has all the advantages of the other one-a perfect replica of a male cock-but it is more normal in size, eh? I shall fuck you with it and you will enjoy it-at least off and on. Please trust me. Now lie back and spread 'em, baby. Or else!" She laughed. "Notice my male attitude."
"Can't we just caress and fondle each other till we come?" Sheila asked, confused.
"Perhaps someday. We'll see. But for now this dildo will fuck you. It is part of an over-all training program I have devised."
"Do I really have to?" Sheila asked, pouting. "Oh, yes. Most assuredly. Haven't you ever been confronted by a male who put it to you pretty much that way?"
"Well, yes," Sheila admitted. "Maybe a few times."
"That's precisely my point. So now you're going to 'put out,' as they say. Agreed?"
Sheila shook her head. "You really are pretty nutsie, you know."
"It all depends on your viewpoint, dear. Frankly, I think you were probably pretty nutsie, as you say, when you submitted to males who were putting exactly the same proposition to you. No matter. Now just lie back. Actually, I suspect you'll rather enjoy it."
Sheila smiled. "I guess it is something different to do. I mean, sucking each others pussies and titties and everything, that was certainly different and-and I did love it. But you promise you won't hurt me?"
Ginger sat down on the bed and began slowly jerking off the leather prick between her legs.
"Promise I won't hurt you? Hmm. Well, let's see. Yes, men always promise they won't hurt you, don't they? Still, they often do hurt you, correct? Why, yes, dear, I promise I won't hurt you." She laughed. "See? I can make the very same promises any man can make, can't I? But whether I actually do hurt you remains to be seen. In other words, the proof of the hurting comes in the fucking. You don't know if it will feel good or hurt until I really get inside of you there and start banging away. The risk is no greater with me than with a man."
Sheila blinked hard, shaking her head. She felt as if she might lose her mind soon. She had been taken to the sexual heights, then deprived. She had been taken to the heights of terror, then relieved. And now, this woman was playing confusing word games with her. Either she was a witch, or she was insane. Maybe both. Yes, maybe both of them were insane and acting out some bizarre drama in another dimension of time. Sheila felt that anything was possible at this point. She toyed with the idea of saying, 'Look, why don't we just fuck, both come and call it a day?' Yes, that was probably the best way to proceed, she decided.
Sheila lay back, spreading her legs and offering her arms. "All right, love," she whispered rather patronizingly. "Why don't you come to me, fuck me and make me come? I want you. Honest. Come and fuck me-with that-that thing, hmm?"
Ginger's eyebrows raised and her eyes narrowed. "Oh, aren't we the willing one all of a sudden!" she said. "Strange, but you sound like the wife who wants to go to sleep but knows she first must get her husband's rocks off. Or, the wife who must let her husband get his jollies so he'll go to work and she can get back to sleep. Very well then. Here we go. Let's play that one, shall we?"
Sheila recoiled at the sudden attack by Ginger. "Wait!" she cried. "Wh-what are you d-doing?"
"Why, we're going to get hubby off as quickly as possible. Hubby doesn't care, you see. All he wants to do is come-release a small amount of jizm-and then go on about his business."
Sheila tried to fight off the gruff hands that hastily and perfunctorily massaged her breasts, but she could not. Within a matter of seconds, she was being pushed onto her back. Then her legs were spread and Ginger was forcing the leather cock into her cunt.
"Stop it! Stop it! You can't just-stick it in. That isn't like you, Ginger. Stop that."
"What are you talking about, dear? Come on and just fake it. It's really the fastest way. You see, I have prepared you with foreplay. Didn't you feel the foreplay? I gave you a token play of tits and now I am erect and ready to fuck. So just lie back and when you hear me breath hard and say, 'I'm coming, honey' you then say, 'Oh, Oh! Oh! me too!' Then you shudder and pretend to come and I'm on my way to work and you don't have to worry about being bothered by me again until maybe tonight, right?"
"You have a hideous sense of humor, Ginger. Ahhhh ... eeeee. It's so big and-"
Ginger had the strength of three men, it seemed. Sheila lay on her back, helpless to prevent or even slow down this man-woman who now had the big prick up inside her. Ginger was holding her as if she were a wheelbarrow, each leg held beneath the knee as the prick plunged in and out of her cunt. Then, she found herself once again with her knees against her chest.
"Give it to me, baby," Ginger rasped. "Give me that hot cunt. I'm fucking your ass off, baby."
"Please, Ginger ... it doesn't feel good ... I don't-like-it-stop it-go away!"
Suddenly, just as abruptly as she had begun, Ginger stopped. She curled up beside Sheila and began kissing her tenderly.
"All right then," she whispered. "That game's over now. I have just demonstrated what to many women is a typical fuck by their husbands, right? Come on, admit it. It has happened to you fairly often?"
Sheila ran her fingers through Ginger's hair affectionately. "Well, occasionally, but not always."
"But it has happened."
"Well, yes," she said.
"That's the only point I wanted to make, dear. Men don't give a shit about you, darling. They just want to unload and your cunt happens to be the most convenient hole handy. They would masturbate if you weren't available. As one famous comedian once said, 'Men will fuck mud' Well, so much for sex with a man-at least too much of the time. Now then, we'll make love-the way females make love, the way we were making it a while ago."
Ginger became gentle suddenly, lightly stroking Sheila's shoulder. Sheila began to respond, remembering the way it had been before the appearance of that huge, terrifying prick of leather. Ginger's hands moved tenderly all over, seeking out erogenous zones. Her mouth nibbled and kissed; her hands gently, lightly brought Sheila's nipples to full erection.
Soon Sheila found her breath coming fast, her rekindled desire mounting. She did want to come. She wanted to come more than anything. God, if only this woman would stop playing games and they could make love. She was worse than a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. If only she would artfully make them both come.
"D-do you have to use that-that thing on me?" she cooed. "Maybe we could just let you slide in between my legs like before-without that artificial prick-and we could make love that way. Hmm, darling?"
"My, aren't we the deceiver!" chided Ginger. "You are truly deceptive at times. Yes, I do understand what you're saying, love. But, no, that is impossible. I will fuck you with the dildo, only I promise you will like it-ultimately, I mean. I will bang your box hard, and you will know you have been fucked, violated in the manner of the male. But in the end-literally in the end-I promise you will have an orgasm such as you have never experienced. But it will be a climax with a moral, a message. Now just trust me and lie back. Let me fuck you. Let me have those smooth legs around my ass spurring me on and I will suck tits and clutch ass and spear you. Eventually you'll scream the roof off. Okay?"
"Well, if-if you promise it will feel good," Sheila cooed, lying back, letting the hands force her back against the leather bedspread. Please, Ginger. Do me. Don't play anymore games? I want to like you, even love you. Do me gentle? Yes, yes ... Oh, that's nice, Ginger. Just like that. Oh, you do know the nice things to do when you want to. Ummm, that's it. Suck my tits and tease my little clittie."
Ginger was massaging her entire body over Sheila's now and Sheila responded, lightly groping the big breasts that pressed themselves to her own. Once again, their nipples, were tip to tip and theirs was the mutual love play of clitoris to clitoris, the gentle roaming hands and encouraging sighs. And then their lips were together, parting, the tongues making contact and the Vaginas lubricating in readiness for orgasm.
"Maybe I am a-a Lesbian," Sheila heard herself saying, loving the feeling of the soft body against her own and the knowing hands exploring every nook and cranny of flesh. "All I know is, it's as yummy as anything that ever happened to me." Ginger's hand was now rubbing her clit faster, dipping only now and then to run the edge of her palm the length of Sheila's rectum. It was an exquisite feeling all right. Sheila had never dreamed that anal stimulation could arouse her so totally. She guessed that it could only occur in combination with mouth-kissing and breast and vaginal caressing at the same time, though. It didn't matter, really, she decided. Whatever it was, it was turning her into a writhing, expectant and passive female once again.
Then, as in a beautiful dream, she realized that Ginger was descending to her cunt. She placed her palms on each of Ginger's cheeks as the face settled into position. Ahhh, there it was-the tongue against her cunt while the hands worked on her nipples simultaneously. It was all happening again, the slow arousal, the mouth nibbling at everything down below. She allowed herself to sigh, then groan loudly as the hungry mouth dined on her cunt lips, then her nerve center.
Ginger was a master of seduction, an artist at arousal. Why did she insist on alternating denial with satisfaction? But that must be the moral she had referred to. It was like the advice she had given her about controlling the male animal-by alternating sexual denial with sexual satisfaction. It certainly could make a slave, she thought. This woman knew what she was talking about. She was a gushing volcano of love juice down below now as the fingers once again entered her channel forcing entrance like a hard-on while the clit stimulating went on and on and on.
This time when Ginger said she wanted to fuck Sheila had no objection. Even if it were an artificial leather cock, Sheila guessed her partner would use it wisely, gently, and fuck her the way a woman liked it.
Ginger was on top of her now and, to her surprise, she found herself saying, "Yes, oh, yes ... darling, fuck me!"
And then the prick entered slowly, considerately, and then their bodies moved as one in the ancient rhythm of love. Sheila locked her ankles behind her male-woman's knees and their pelvises rubbed as the big cock slid in and out, in and out, and they whispered desperate subdued things to each other through clenched teeth, speaking of "woman-love" and how they wouldn't ever want a stupid man again. No never, never-not ever again would they want anything but each other's bodies this way.
"F-u-c-c-k m-e-e-e-e-e-...." wailed Sheila. "Stick me anyway you want ... ummm!" And it was true, the cock of leather became real, and it was filling her cunt as it had never been filled before. Sometimes lips were on her breasts as the big instrument probed, and sometimes the lips were murmuring four-letter words in her ear, and sometimes there were fingers in her rear, and sometimes there was a finger against her clit as the big cock slid in and out. This Ginger was playing her body the way a skilled angler plays a fish; she was an artist. And Sheila was lost in the wonder of making love to a woman who knew and understood everything another woman could crave or had ever dreamed of happening to her.
"Ohhhhh, Gin-gerrrrr, fuck meeeee. Harder, harder. You can fuck me anyway you want, whenever you want. Just fuck me and keep on fucking me and make me come. Ohhh, and I want you to come, too. I-I'll do anything for you-anything you ever want."
To her own amazement, Sheila found her finger playing with Ginger's bottom. And then with one hand she was fingering her rectum while her other finger slipped between them and steadily stroked her partner's clit. Ginger was actually groaning then, moaning and shuddering from this finger-play as she thrust the cock into the hot pie of pussy.
Ginger was squealing now and picking up her tempo, shuddering. Secretly, Sheila hoped that she had successfully aroused her partner so that all plans of indoctrination or whatever it was that she was about to do was forgotten. Yes, at this moment, Sheila wanted nothing more than to turn the tables. Could it happen? Could she become the seductress, the one to awake in Ginger a desperate need? It seemed so. It was marvelous the way their bodies were blending together. She had not dared to imagine that two females could writhe in such unadulterated sexual joy and expectation.
"Never let it stop," whispered Sheila. "Hmmm, my lovely? Let's never, never let it stop ... ohhhhh."
"No, never," sing songed Ginger. "Never, never ... I-I didn't think that this could ever happen. Oh, if I only had a real prick. If only I did. Why couldn't I have a real-"
Sheila pressed her fingers momentarily to Ginger's lips. "Shoosh, it doesn't matter. This is lovely-just t-the way it is. Ummm, just keep on fucking that way while our hands and fingers work."
And then their mouths were locked together in new dedication, new allegiance, as if swearing eternal devotion at this peaking moment. There was only the groping and the gulping and the mutual body hunger that seemed as if it would never, never end. But it had to end ... they could not endure the restraint any longer. They were hurtling toward the finish now, jerking and babbling and signaling each other with breath-whines that the storm had gathered and had to burst....
But this time it was Sheila who called a halt. She reached down and withdrew the big instrument. Then they lay gasping and panting in each other's arms.
"I-I'm sorry, darling," she apologized. "I-I want to-to make it last. It's the most precious thing I ever knew and I want to make it last ... I hope you don't mind.
Suddenly it was as though she had jarred Ginger back to reality, for the loving, kind, tender, considerate partner raised herself up and gazed down at the body beneath her groggily.
"You bitch!" she scolded softly. "You nearly made me forget. You are a clever girl. No, lie back. We'll do this my way."
The leather erection filled her once again, but this time it was different. Sheila knew she was being used, and the stern teacher was back to her old ways. Even Sheila's hands at her nipples and against her clitoris failed to totally ease the jolting hip-rams that drove the instrument up so deep, Sheila had not dreamed that there could be so many moods to sex. The leather cock hurt now, but she had gone beyond the point of caring. In a way, at this point, anything felt good. She managed to meet her lover's violent thrusts. "Yessss, fuck me," she said, but the mood had vanished. It was now another fuck, and she had no idea what Ginger had in store for her next.
"You're goddam right I'll fuck you," Ginger replied in a hoarse voice. "I'll fuck you anyway I want. I don't need your permission for that. I'll fuck you anyway I please. There ... there ... there ... take that and that and-THAT!" Ginger yelled. "Angh ... angh," she cried, slamming it home harder and harder.
"Over on your stomach!" Ginger commanded. "I want to instruct you exactly in the art of raping your husband. You must know the feelings so that you may inflict the maximum pain and degradation."
Somehow, despite her passive mood, Sheila was able to draw the line. "No," she said. "That-that thing inside me is proof enough of what you mean. I-I don't need the-the other."
"What?" Ginger snapped, stopping her stroke. "Did I hear you correctly? If I did-"
"Please?" Sheila pleaded, her voice low and seductive. She planned, or hoped, that she could appeal to Ginger's state of arousal. Perhaps if Ginger thought she were truly taking a female to the heights she would forget-at least momentarily-her desire to instruct her pupil anally. "Ohhh, Ginger, darling," Sheila cooed. "It feels so good just right where it is," she said, hugging her partner and wiggling her ass so that she pumped with desire against the firm body. "Please just permit me to be fucked the way it's going? Hmmm, darling. Ohhhh, it does feel so delicious-better than anything."
Ginger was not made of stone after all. Her ego responded. "Very well, little bitch," she said. "I shall allow this one deviation, for the moment." And then Ginger settled into a steady and masterful fucking tempo.
Obviously reveling in her skill and ability to bring the female to heel sexually, she whispered hoarsely, "Move your hips, bitch. Let me know you like my style of fucking. Yeah, move that tight little ass and say things in my ear: tell me how much you like Ginger to fuck you, tell me everything."
Sheila was a trifle slow to respond and Ginger dug her fingernails hard into Sheila's ass, clutching.
"Ahhh!" Sheila squealed in pain, then promptly disguised the sound into one of admiration, appreciation. "Yesss, Ahhh, ohhhh, does that cock of yours feel g-good. Oh, yeah ... fuck meeee, Ginger. I love the way you fuck ... yuuummmm-mmmeeeee!"
"Say Ginger more," Ginger instructed. "I want to hear you say my name."
She drove the cock harder now, rotating her hips so that no part of Sheila's vagina went untouched. "Speak, damn it!"
Sheila grabbed Ginger's ass hard and began a steady stream of complimentary fuck-talk. At first, it was forced, but as she got into the mood of it, the flow of words rose in volume and she meant it. The cock, artificial or not, was delivering lovely pleasure. Sheila let herself go and truly enjoyed the large instrument that plunged without mercy within her, filling her totally, tinglingly, ramming and bringing out all that was female in Sheila.
Soon, Sheila's words were not forced at all, but involuntary.
"Do it, Ginger! Oh, do it to me. Fuck my cunt. I love it-love the way you fuck me. Ginger ... Ginger ... oh, Ginger ... the best fuck ever. Jesus, I never f-felt anything I-like it. That great big cock sticking my pussy. Yes, fuck my pussy. My pussy is clenching your prick, Ginger ... Ginger ... Ginger. If I'd known it could be this way, I-I would have had girls fuck me all my life. How do you know j-just where and w-when and h-how? Ohhhh, it's bee-uht-teeee-fullll ... wonderful! Wonderful. Don't stop ... Ginger!"
"You love me to fill your cunt up with cock, don't you?" Ginger growled.
"Oh, yesss ... fill me up ... keep on sticking me. Stick me, stick me, stick me harder ... harder. Keep that up, just that way. J-just that way, just that way, that way. Jesus, Ginger, I c could come in a few seconds if ... I could come if you want me to ... I could c-come ... Ginger? Ginger? C-could I come now?"
Without knowing it, she had uttered the wrong thing. For with her announcement that she was on the edge of orgasm, Ginger promptly ceased her slamming of the dildo into her gushing crevice.
"No, you may not come, bitch," Ginger spat. "Do you think I'm here merely to give you pleasure, dummy? Hear that? Dummy. That's the way men talk to you, right? Ding-a-ling! Dummy! Inferior clutz!"
"I-I'm sorry, Ginger," Sheila breathed, shuddering. "I-I just thought you might want to know I was ready."
"Who the fuck cares if you're ready or not, woman! All I want to do is get my nuts off. If you're lucky enough to come, good, but mainly I want to come, hear? That's what women are for, to get the man's rocks off. Nothing more."
"I-I'm sorry, Ginger," Sheila apologized, totally frustrated by her partner's interruption of the fuck. She thought she might scream with need and desire but she knew that would bring the desired response from the frenzied Ginger.
Now Ginger had the big leather cock out of her hole entirely. She flopped it onto Sheila's tummy so that it actually hurt, then straddling, worked her way up until the ugly instrument with its harsh seam stood inches from Sheila's mouth.
"Ever suck a leather dildo covered with cunt juice, bitch?" she inquired, her chest heaving.
"No, Ginger, please," Sheila begged.
"Well, you're going to now-after I've fucked between your titties with it. You'd better not complain either, because what comes after is going to be one helluva lot more unpleasant, believe me. So you better fuck it good, baby. Or else !" Sheila did not want to play the game anymore, but she had no choice. She stared at the big artificial prick as Ginger lay it between her breasts, then squeezed their milky whiteness around its immensity. Slowly, so that it hurt, she then plunged the dildo hard in the valley, hurting, enjoying the look of pain on Sheila's face.
"Start licking the tip when it comes out toward you, hear?" she ordered. "Flick your tongue tip at it like you mean it. Now!"
Sheila obeyed, tasting her own lubricant as she lapped. "Men just love to humiliate women this way." Ginger raged. "They even stimulate you this way-at the same time-to insure your maximum participation. See how cunning the bastards are, eh?"
With that, she reached behind her ass and began massaging Sheila's clitoris as she thrust the leather cock at her lips.
"See? See? You know what I mean? They've done this to you, haven't they? Just like this, so they can force you to lick and suck their pricks-even think you like it? Eh? Eh?"
Ginger pulled her hair then, hard. "Well?"
"Yes!" Sheila replied, grimacing from the pain. "Yes!"
"All right. Now suck!"
The big prickhead rammed into Sheila's mouth then, cramming past her lips and hard into the back of her throat, gagging her.
"Take that! And that!" Ginger yelled, still messaging the swollen clit below and behind her. And then Sheila felt a stream of warm water jet ting down her throat, hot water from the false testicles of the dildo. Ginger had released warm water, simulating sperm, from the instrument, and she was making Sheila swallow the liquid while she fingered her victim's clit and rectum.
"Swallow it all, bitch! Swallow! Sound familiar!"
Sheila gagged, but she managed to swallow, and strangely, because of the steady clit-massage she was receiving it was not altogether unpleasant, She swallowed, gulping, feelings of ambivalence engulfing her. What was this woman attempting to accomplish? she wondered. Alternately tender, alternately gruff, what could possibly be her objective?
Now came the worst part. Ginger began stroking the false hard-on, as though masturbating in her mouth, and firing streams of warm water as she gazed down in wonder and awe.
"I'm fucking your mouth," she murmured. "Do you hear? Swallow! Swallow! Swallow my come! Yeah, good ... oh, yeahhh!"
Just when Sheila was certain she would gag, Ginger withdrew the thing and began jabbing hard at the exterior of her throat. Then she was slapping her cheeks, hurting as the hard and heavy thing hit her face with rights and lefts and uppercuts.
"This is a man-a man!" she shouted, and the word man raged from her lips with each blow. "Man" (smack) "Man" (smack) "Man" (smack).
Sheila understood what Ginger was doing, but she was helpless. With each blow and mention of the word man, she was trying to create a hatred, an association of pain with male and the male organ. If it had not been for the steady fingerfucking of her clit, she would not have been able to endure it. It was an incredible form of anti-male brainwashing.
Just when she was certain she could tolerate no more of the ordeal, Sheila was relieved to see Ginger slide back down her torso. She's going to fuck me again, she thought, relieved, certain that now Ginger would give her the orgasm she so desperately craved with every fiber of her being.
The hard, false prick was in her now, stabbing again and bringing on the waves of pleasure. "Ohhh, Ginger," Sheila said, shuddering, gratefully settling into the rhythm of fucking once again.
But her pleasure was short-lived, for suddenly the dildo exited and Ginger was muttering in her ear.
"You talked me out of this before, my lovely, but this time you're going to get stuck good."
Sheila did not understand. Had she not already been "stuck good"? What possible way could she be stuck that she had riot already experienced? And then she knew ... she knew! And terror seized her.
Ginger lowered the leather prick and began shoving. "You did not obey when I commanded you to turn over. Very well then. I won't fuck you dog-style while you're up on all fours, bitch, or lying flat on your face. But we shall merely lower the instrument now and fuck your bung while you're on your back."
From experience, Sheila knew that anal entry in this position was difficult, especially with her rather small rectum and with a cock as wide as the dildo. It could literally tear her apart. She pleaded with Ginger to spare her, to let her turn on to her stomach if necessary, but spare her anal entry in this position.
Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Cackling, Ginger said, "Oh, no, sweet. You had your chance. Now it is too late. Don't you know how men are? They want what they want when they want it. Do you believe they care about your wishes? Hell, no! Well, it pleases me now to fuck you in the asshole while you're in this position, and so it will be."
"No!" Sheila shrieked. "Ginger, no!"
"Tough shit!" Ginger screamed. "Hold on, baby. It's going in and I don't want to hear anything but squeals of joy. If they're not joyous, then you sure as hell better make them sound like it, hear? Say, yes, damn it. Say, yes, or it'll hurt all the more. Say it!"
"Yes, yes, yes!" Then, as the bulbous head began forcing entry into her rear, she began screaming, "No! no! no!"
Sheila felt as though she were giving birth. She dug her fingers into Ginger's back and, shutting her eyelids tightly together, bit her lips and tossed her head from side to side as the brutal, cylindrical device kept inching inward.
"Arrrrgggghhh, please, go easy. I-I can't stand it-c-can't take it ... you're killing me. No, please! Stop! Stop. Take it out. I CAN'T STAND IT! Take it out of my ass. Oh-oh-oh-ah-ah-oh! Can't ... can't ... won't ... it won't fit. Noooooo!" The dildo was halfway in now and still forcing entry, despite her clenching rectal muscles.
"Relax, Sheila," Ginger said, her voice almost paternal now. "You take it ... you can do it ... it's nearly in now."
Then, cackling once again, she got her little message in again. "How many times have you heard that one, eh? Isn't that what they tell you while they stick it to you, huh? Isn't that what they say while they shove their pricks in your mouth, your cunt, your ass? Well, isn't it?"
Sheila could not answer. She could not speak. Her rectal cavity seemed stretched beyond her wildest imagination. It felt as though she would be split open wide at any instant. And still the monstrous implement was driving its way toward her ribcage.
For perhaps ten minutes the entry continued. Once Sheila blacked out for a few seconds, a blessing that kept her from screaming insanely. When she opened her eyes, she realized that Ginger had inserted the dildo to the hilt.
"Okay, hon," Ginger gloated. "Wow, you oughta see it." She was leaning back from Sheila and staring down admiringly. "Boy, are you stuck good, sugar. You wouldn't believe it. All I can see is my great big pickerel's balls dangling down the crevice of your ass. The rest of it-every inch of it-is right up there where you live."
Ginger shook her hips to make the dildo's presence felt and Sheila hissed through clenched teeth.
"I got me a spear right up your backside all right. What a sight. Shit, it's one of the seven wonders of the world. Woman accommodates stallion ... yeah!"
"Please, Ginger," Sheila gasped, shuddering. "Take it out now. Ease it out real gently-before I die."
"Out? You got to be kidding. Hell, no. Now comes the good part. Now we fuck, baby. Now we really get it on!"
And with that Ginger began fucking.
At first, Sheila was certain she would die. Twice she passed out. After what seemed hours, though, Ginger began playing with her victim's nipples as she thrust savagely. And then, finally, she assaulted the clitoris. To her amazement, Sheila found herself rising to meet the thrusts. The pain was still there, but the blend of pleasure and pain was bringing an entirely new sensation-something Sheila had never before experienced. It was a wave, no a surge, of incredible spasms that threatened to leave her blabbering in hysterical and total relief. She had never felt anything remotely like it before. It was like the best and most intense orgasm she had ever known but multiplied by a hundred, a thousand. On and on the pleasure currents surged until she thought that she would pass out once again-but this time with pleasure.
So this what the anal thing is all about, she thought. Why had she never known this with a man? she wondered. She had always made them stop too soon. God, it was heavenly, heavenly--unbearably and excruciatingly heavenly. Nothing like it. Not ever! She was determined not to tell Ginger what was happening. No, if she told Ginger, the fiend would surely stop, denying her the rising crest of thunder that rose and rose to furious heights from her anus to her vagina, up her spine to her neck. All over the pleasure surges were colliding; like electric currents the vaginal sensations mingled with the anal sensations and the sensations emanating from her nipples that were being rolled between Ginger's thumb and forefinger.
And then the sensations peaked and it was as if great breakers were crashing on some distant tropical beach of paradise. But she could not scream. Ginger would know and stop. And she could not clutch her lover's buttocks and clutch the huge dildo farther into her. No, then Ginger would know ... would know....
There it was-coming-raging in her loins, jolting her with such force she could not restrain herself.
She came. Without letting Ginger know until it was too late, she came ... and came ... and came.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" she wailed. The sound coming from the depths of her being were an awesome sound to her own ears, hysterical breath-bursts that crescendoed and reverberated throughout the entire house. She lay in a blob then-a helpless blob of useless, totally fulfilled, orgasmic putty.
"YOU CAME !" You came!" Ginger was screaming. "God damn you, you came! You weren't supposed to come. You-you were supposed to tell me. GOD DAMN YOU, YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING-BITCH! YOU DUMB CUNT !"
Ginger stood above her, raging, striking out. But Sheila did not care. She had known paradise and nothing else mattered. She had shook hands with the deity of orgasm and it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.
Even when Ginger was shoving her toward the door, abusing her, slapping her, cursing her, she did not care. Then, at the front door, totally naked, she felt herself being shoved out onto the porch into broad daylight. She blinked, returning to awareness, like a patient emerging from anesthetic.
Ginger hurled her tom clothing at her, then the leather dildo with its huge false testicles. She slammed the door, still screaming obscenities. Then, from the window, she screamed, "And don't come back until you've used that thing on your husband. I will deny you entrance here until you've reamed your hubby's ass good with that thing, do you hear?"
Sheila merely nodded, in a dream, and then like an automaton she walked stark naked, carrying her clothes and the dangling leather dildo to her house. There, she fell on the couch and fell into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
For three days, Sheila Pelham was once again a recluse. She did not leave the house and she kept the drapes drawn. Somehow she managed to serve meals to her husband Mike, and young Richie. Both of them sensed that she was going through some kind of critical period and avoided prolonged conversation with her. Richie made no sexual advances and neither did her husband. In fact, Mike continued to arrive home very late each night, and very drunk, so he was not capable of sex anyway.
Each day, sitting alone in the dark house, she mulled over what had been happening to her. In truth, she knew, she had been dealing with a madwoman, but she seemed totally incapable of thinking rationally about Ginger, depraved witch, lesbian pervert, psychotic, or whatever she was. She did not even venture a peek at the house next door. One thing was certain; whatever she was, Ginger did not need a telephone to communicate! It was as though, once again, strange messages were conveyed wordlessly between the two houses. At times, Sheila felt intense guilt pangs for no explainable reason-sudden attacks of guilt for not carrying out Ginger's instructions on her husband and stepson. Ginger was definitely sending out some sort of evil messages to her. Outrageous and as outlandish as it seemed, the woman was somehow able to communicate by means of thought transference!
On this, the fourth day, as she struggled to eat-to swallow some solid food after her session with Ginger-she could literally feel the urging emanating from her strange neighbor. It was as if a magnetic force were commanding her to rape her husband, to degrade him and use the evil implement on him.
The leather dildo still lay at the bottom of the laundry hamper in the same hiding place where it had lain since her return from Ginger.
Sheila gave up trying to eat and, as though in a trance, found herself in the master bathroom, digging through dirty laundry with trembling fingers. Against her will, she finally touched the dildo and withdrew it from the bottom of the hamper. She stared at it, blinking, feeling the waves of instruction coming from next door. She shook her head, wanting to hurl the instrument in the trash can in the garage, but instead she found herself gazing at it with fascination.
Finally, emitting a little whimper of desperation and surrender and fear, she stepped into the living room, holding the dildo against her cheek as she walked. There, she quickly disrobed and stood naked. She began a kind of slow, waltz-like dance, all the while clutching the dildo, pressing it to her cheek, her breasts, her vagina. She hummed a little tune she could not identify as she carried out this strange ritual.
As though by command, she found herself sucking on the huge thing, drawing on its immensity and remembering both the horror and the ecstasy of that afternoon with Ginger.
She did not decide that tonight would be the night to brutalize her husband; she simply knew that tonight would be the night! It came to her telepathically, a fact of which she was quite aware but totally powerless to resist.
She nodded as she danced across the carpet, saying, "Yes, yes, yessss ... it will be ... tonight he will know the truth of it all ... he will receive his suitable punishment and humiliation. Yes, yes, yes ... it will be...."
But, first, there will he much to 'prepare, she thought. There must he no mistake. When he arrives home drunk again tonight, Mike will be easy prey, but there can he no mistake. "No, Ginger ... I understand" she muttered aloud. "I know there must be no mistake. And, yes, Richie must be forewarned so that he will not interfere. I know that, Ginger ... yes, I do understand."
Further demonstration of some supernatural force came when she instinctively knew that she must hurriedly dress and put the dildo back in its hiding place. She knew not why, but she tiptoed hurriedly to the bathroom, her gown and robe in her arms, and placed the leather prick deep down into the laundry hamper. There, she hurriedly dressed and emerged just in time to greet Richie as he came into the living room through the front door.
His eyes met hers and she saw that he wished to avoid her. He started for his room, carrying his books.
"I-I have to study," he explained in a whisper. "I-I'll empty the papers and-and see if anything needs attention outside and-and then I'm going to study very hard," he said.
"Richie, dear," she began, smiling for the first time in days, and she knew from whence the smile came. She felt as though Ginger had reached across a great distance and, somehow, pulled her lips apart. Yes, the smile was not of her own doing. "Richie, darling, please sit down for a moment before you begin your chores. He halted.
She smiled more broadly. He stopped, turning.
"Please?" she said, gesturing at his father's chair.
Richie swallowed and sat uneasily as instructed.
"I realize I have been behaving-well, unusually these past few days, but I think I've had a touch of the flu. I am sorry if I have been distant, inattentive. Will you forgive me? I want for us to resume our relationship as before. I do find you attractive, you know. That hasn't changed. Can you possibly forgive my behavior of late? Can you?"
The boy seemed relieved. "Sure, Sheila. I was worried. I thought maybe you were cracking up or something. But you seem fine now. I'm glad ... really glad you're all well again. I-I still love you, Sheila."
He started to rise, his arms extended, but she signalled for him to remain seated.
"Richie, as you know your father and I have had a number of differences of late. But that's going to end soon."
He beamed. "Gee, that's great. I'll feel better when you two start talking again."
"I knew you would be pleased to hear that, yes. But I must request your cooperation. May I ask a very, very important favor of you?"
"Sure, Sheila," he said, enthused. "Anything. You just say it and I'll do it. I love you, Sheila. , You're the best stepmother a guy ever had." He seemed embarrassed suddenly. "I don't mean just the things we've done together. I loved those things a lot, but I mean I really think you're a swell person. I think you're the most beautiful and intelligent and-and interesting person I-I ever knew. Honest!"
"That's very nice of you to say, dear. I love you very much, and that's why I have this special favor to ask of you."
Again, the lad said, "Anything I'll lick your feet if you want!"
Sheila chuckled. "Oh, no," she said. "Nothing like that. What I want from you is not to do something. Uh-when your father comes home tonight, I am going to have a long talk with him.
I hope there isn't an argument, but this is highly possible. We are going to have things out. These are adult matters, so if you hear something-no matter what-I want you to promise that you will remain in your room. Is that clear?"
"Sure," Richie said, frowning. "I promise. But what are you going to-to talk about?"
"Oh, lots of things, and as you well know sometimes adults can get very loud. But it is necessary sometimes-in order to settle things so that everything will go smoothly from now on. No matter what happens, promise me you won't leave your room. Say it once more. Say, 'I promise'."
"I promise," he said, and Sheila could see that the boy was relieved. No doubt he would tolerate anything that would end the silent warfare that had been going on between his father and herself.
"Good boy," Sheila said, crossing the room and beckoning him to stand. He stood, and then she kissed him long and tenderly on the cheek and placed her hand on his crotch and squeezed. "If you mind me, I'll reward you again. You do remember the rewards?"
He shuddered, reaching out for her breast, but she stepped back.
"No, not yet. But after tonight-when I see that you have obeyed me to the letter, your reward will come-and I do mean come, understand?"
"Yes," he breathed. "I-I can hardly wait. Don't worry. I won't leave my room even if an earthquake hits."
"Good, now off to your chores and study."
Richie trotted from the room joyfully, anticipation all over his young face. Ginger was correct about the means of disciplining men, she thought. The boy was literally eating out of her hand. Soon she would be sucking his young prick, letting him suck her cunt, even letting him fuck her. Yes, all that would be necessary again before she permitted him to learn his true subservient nature. She grinned, an expression not her own, and thought, I wonder how he'll respond to the leather dildo jamming up his tight, firm ass. I know precisely how it feels. I have been indoctrinated and know how to thrust, to gouge and hurt, or alternately to deliver unspeakable pleasure. Oh, that will be a treat. Imagine his disillusionment, his horror, his mind-blowing pleasure. He will obey women-all women-for the rest of his life!
Suddenly Sheila shook her head, emerging from a brief trance. What had she just been thinking of? She could not remember. She blinked, struggling to recall her thoughts of only a second ago, but she could not remember. She would be glad when whatever was going on was all over and she could return to her senses, could regain her memory, could exert her own will. She remembered her conversation with Richie, but her thoughts?
And then she had forgotten what she had just been thinking! It was all very confusing. Some things she could remember, and some things she could not remember. Was that Ginger's doing? She did not know and she did not care. "Yes, so be it," she found herself uttering aloud, obediently.
By the time Richie had finished his outdoor chores, she had cut several lengths of clothesline and fashioned them into loops that resembled handcuffs. She then tied a longer piece of the cord to one leg of the TV set and the other end to the leg of the heavy chair at the other side of the front entrance to the living room. Later, when Richie was asleep, she could easily draw the rope taut so that it would effectively work as a tripping device.
This done, she fetched a stocking from her bureau drawer and placed it with the rope manacles and the leather dildo beneath the chair, where it would be easily accessible once she heard Mike's car pull into the driveway. Yes, the plan seemed foolproof. She even wondered how she had conceived and executed it. It was as if some force had directed her. Really miraculous. And Richie would remain in his room.
"Rape of the Male," she muttered aloud, giggling as she went to the shower. After bathing, she dressed in slacks (her costume for tonight), a button-front mannish shirt with cuffs, and one of Mike's belts. With the stocking for a mask and the semi-masculine garb, plus the aid of total darkness, she felt certain she would have no trouble disabling a drunken man long enough to handcuff him, strap the dildo in place and ... Oh, it would be just too beautiful, she thought. What could he say? Quite possibly he would be too embarrassed even to mention the incident to his own wife much less the police! He would learn what it felt like to be a female rape victim. The justice of it all was just too beautiful for words.
She would leave him there, defiled as he had never dreamed possible, and when he came to his senses she would be sound asleep in bed-a willing listener to whatever he had to confess. But she guessed he would have very little to confess. She doubted if he would dare!
But what if he decided to come home on time tonight? She hadn't considered that. It would ruin all her plans! Yes, what if Mike had a sudden change of heart and arrived early and stone cold sober? How could she make sure?
Again, as if the answer came from some supernatural source, she knew what had to be done. She would have to insure his drunken, late arrival.
Grinning, she went hastily to the phone. "Stay in your room," she called to Richie. "Do you hear? Stay there until I tell you to come out."
Richie called back, assuring her he would do so, and then Sheila dialed Mike's work number. The switchboard girl at Norris Electronics answered and Sheila gave her Mike's extension number. A moment later Mike's deep voice said, "Mike Pelham."
"Mike," Sheila said harshly. "I'm calling to inform you that you may as well dine out again tonight. I'm not about to prepare dinner for you. I'm sick of the sight of you-you drunken bastard. Work as late as you please. Is that clear?"
There was a long silence, and then a very hushed voice Mike said, "Don't worry, bitch. I don't want anything from you. But I must come home to fetch some papers. You see, I intend to be doing a lot of very late work here at the office after tonight. In fact, I'll be taking a supply of clothes to work tomorrow morning."
"That's just fine with me, you bastard. And don't wake me when you come staggering in."
"Don't worry," he said. "I'll sleep on the couch. I never want anything from you again !" And he slammed the receiver down.
Sheila laughed hysterically as she hung up. Never want anything from you again, he had said. Well, you're going to get something from me again all right. You may never be able to walk normally again, old fellow. You're going to get something from me you'll never, never forget!
And Sheila laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks.
Sheila fixed young Richie his favorite dinner-steak with mushrooms, baked potato and creamed spinach, followed by a half-quart of English Toffee ice cream. Throughout the meal she complimented him on his grades, his household duties, his looks, everything. They laughed and joked and they enjoyed themselves until ten o'clock and then she told him to run off to bed. She cautioned him again about not leaving his room-no matter what-and he assured her he understood.
Then she turned off every light in the house and sat in the big chair by the front door, waiting.
By midnight she had become very drowsy, and it was with effort that she remained awake. She had rehearsed over and over again the many possibilities that might occur. Perhaps a hundred times she imagined Mike's entrance and precisely how she would attack the instant the trip cord between the TV leg and the chair on which she sat had tripped him. She saw him face down, on his side, on his back-in every conceivable position. She had also carefully taken into account the possibility that he would be very drunk-or not so drunk.
In either case, she would have to move very fast. Yes, speed was the key to success. Any hesitation on her part, for any reason, could spell disaster. Mike needed only one wrong move and he would be able to exert his superior strength-say, grab her by the wrist-and it would be all over. In that event, how would she explain the presence of the rope fashioned like handcuffs? Or the presence of the leather dildo? All would be lost if she did not strike, hard, fast and totally effectively!
The trouble with the entire plan, of course, was that she felt unable to execute the one act that would guarantee total success. Logically, it made sense merely to strike him unconscious with any number of blunt objects available in the house. Any of the large lamps in the living room would easily do the job, or Richie's baseball bat, or even a rolling pin from the kitchen.
But she could not bring herself to employ such a tactic, for she feared seriously injuring Mike, even killing him. No, although her timidity spoiled the perfection of her plan, she felt incapable of rendering her husband unconscious. She would simply have to take certain risks by doing it her way. Once again, she ran through every step of her plan as well as the many possibilities.
Step one: When Mike's car entered the garage, she would strap on the dildo and stand with her back against the wall with the loops of cord in her hands. When he fell, she would spring, the stocking mask in place of course. If he were even half as drunk as he had been the past few nights, it would be no problem to get his hands behind his back. In that event, she would have to bark instructions; she would have to remember to speak through clenched teeth and in a very low voice-a low growl, in fact.
Step two: once the all-important step of getting Mike's arms behind his back had been accomplished, she would merely slip the loops about his wrists and cinch the prepared noose tight. Then, with knees operating-one on his neck if necessary, and the other in the small of his back-she could restrain him and test him for docility. If he were very drunk, she would proceed immediately to remove his trousers, or at least get them down to his ankles, and then she would apply the Vaseline to his rear and whammo!
Step three: This would be when Mike might well buck a bit. But she reasoned she could keep him in position for the insertion of the dildo into his rectum by simply raising his wrists higher and higher until he ceased resisting. She had seen a film once where a man was held captive this way most effectively. By raising his bound wrists, this would apply painful pressure where his arms joined his shoulders, an intense pain that could keep the strongest man helpless.
Well, she thought, at least the plan was good. But of course theory and practice were two different things. She knew that Richie would not interfere ; she would bet her life on it. But the principal problem was Mike's strength. He was not muscular, true, but he was far stronger than most women, certainly herself. She would be relying totally on surprise and speed.
Again and again, she turned the plan over in her mind, rehearsing, refining, perfecting.
At one, her spirits drooped. Could he have gotten so drunk he had passed out somewhere? What if he had been arrested while driving home, or what if someone had forbidden him to drive and taken his car keys? Or what if he had met a seductive woman and decided to spend the night with her? There were so many things that could have gone awry, she wondered how she could have possibly been so foolish. Stupid ... stupid! she berated herself. She had been insane to think she could bring such a thing off.
Her eyelids had become very heavy. She fixed coffee in the dark kitchen and cooled it with tap water in order to gulp it down fast. Caffeine was her only hope of staying awake. After three quick cups, she returned to the living room and resumed her vigil. The entire house was still. Even from outside, there was no noise at all.
Finally, at two-twenty she decided she had best give up the plan for tonight; yes, she would have to bring it off another night. And then she was certain she heard a car approaching. Very slowly light showed against the drapes, brightened, and then she heard the car's engine-and the flash of light as the headlights raised while lifting over the rise of the driveway. Her heart pounded frantically against her ribcage. Hurriedly, she strapped on the dildo, then slipped the stocking over her face. She eyed the jar of Vaseline on the floor, the lid off, and mentally impressed on her brain its exact location.
She stood frozen in readiness then, shaking all over with anticipation, her mind considering all the things that could go wrong. What if he passed out in the front seat? How could she possibly execute her plan in the front seat of the car? She could not! But mostly, and this was her deepest concern, what if he weren't drunk enough?
For a brief instant she considered abandoning the entire plan, just gathering up her assortment of paraphernalia and running to the bedroom. Did it not seem ridiculous that a man would believe some crazed homosexual had lain in wait for Mike, raped him anally and fled? For the first time, she realized that she would have to provide some other motive for the rapist. Yes, he would have to seem to have been a thief, too.
The car door had not yet slammed. There was still time to run into the bedroom, open drawers and throw the contents onto the floor as though a search had been made. But she heard the car door slam then. The length of time that had elapsed gave her hope, for surely such a delay seemed to indicate that he was indeed very drunk.
So it was too late to set up the burglar plan.
Still, there would be time after she had raped Mike, she decided. Yes, he would still be bound on the floor by the front door and unable yet to rise and try to rouse her from where she would be pretending to be asleep. But why had she not broken a window to account for the thief's entrance? She would have to hold a cloth against the window and break it quietly, after raping Mike in order to account for the break-in.
She was certain she could hear footsteps on the walk now. Yes, and they were erratic footsteps, even stumbling? Her spirits soared as the possibility that Mike was very drunk increased. And then she heard mumbling-no, it was slurred and garbled singing. He was slurring the words to some unrecognizable Army song. The fates were with her.
His footsteps were on the porch now and she could hear him fumbling with his keys. Then there came the sound of metal against metal as he tried to find the keyhole. Repeatedly, the sound came, but the door did not open.
Sheila sighed, then took a deep breath to check her jitters. She held the cord tightly in her fists, trembling, every muscle in her body ready for the attack. Would he never get the goddam key in the hole? God, he was drunk! And it occurred to her that he might pass out the instant his head hit the floor. In that event he wouldn't even know anything that had transpired. That wouldn't do at all. He must be aware of the terrible violation of his body or all would be for naught.
At last the bolt clicked. She heard her husband's voice, grunting or cursing, she could not tell which, and the door flung open. In the shadow of the street light, she could make out his silhouette, standing there, weaving, as though trying to get his bearings. The cord was drawn tightly between the two heavy pieces of furniture....
Was he going to stand there all night? Why didn't he enter? As in a nightmare, she had to stifle a sneeze, then another. She pressed her back hard against the wall, terrified that certainly he would hear her rapid breathing.
Finally, he seemed to resolve with great effort that he would step inside. He muttered something to himself, some unintelligible string of what sounded like obscenities, then took a giant step over the threshold, and then another. His second step landed his ankle against the stretched cord and, with a baffled growl, he crashed face-first onto the carpet.
Sheila's fear vanished at this moment and she became a lithesome tigress. She sprang, growling in a low voice, in imitation of a male, and landed with one knee in the small of his back and then, with less force, with the other knee against the back of his neck.
He merely groaned in drunken shock and made little efforts as she joined both of his wrists behind his back. Then, she slipped the prepared hoops about the wrists, cinched hard until they were firmly secure. This done, she efficiently unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly and began lowering his trousers.
"Hey ... wha ... uhhh!" Mike grunted.
He was so intoxicated he began laughing.
He was even giggling as she finally got the trousers down around his ankles. "Hey," he sing-songed, "lemme see your face."
And then, "Chrishhh ... Jesushhh Chrishhh, what the hell ya doin, huh? Jessush Crishhh.
Hey, quit it ... that hursshhh! What a kink! Ouchsh, ahhh!"
Working deftly, Sheila finished greasing up her husband's rectum with great gobs of Vaseline. Then, truly proud of herself now, she began pushing with the head of the bulbous dildo at his resisting asshole.
"Ahhhhh! Cut it out!" Mike yelled. "Cut that shhhhhiiit out! Ah-angh-ohh!"
Exerting strength for the first time, he tried to roll onto his side as Sheila imbedded the first inch or so of the leather instrument into his ass. She nearly was caught by surprise; she lost her balance and had to reach out and place her palm against the carpet to keep from falling. But she regained her balance and quickly, then barked a command in a low growl of a voice.
"Hold still ... or I'll kill you, bastard!" she rasped. "Got your wallet. Now I want your ass! Hold still or I-I'll crack your skull open, you bastard!"
Sheila was surprised at her own voice as she spoke. She did not recognize herself. Good, she thought, so far, so good! She raised up on his wrists, exerting tension at his shoulder sockets and he groaned and begged, "Go eash-eeeee ... don't know what kinda shh-iit thishh ish, but go eash-eeee. Okay ... okay...."
But then as she slid the dildo further in, he yowled again. This time she jerked hard upward on the wrists and he lay whining, uncomprehending, weeping, raging in a broken and subdued voice. And when she slammed the instrument upward with all her might, in one great hip-thrust, she thought he would scream the roof off. It was delicious music to her ears. She had plugged Mike right where he lived all right.
She let him get accustomed to the big dildo for a moment, and then she began slow and steady hip-jabs, simulating the rhythm of fucking. With each jab he grunted in disbelief and horror and pain and degradation.
Several times he pleaded for mercy in a high-pitched and desperate voice, but she responded by shoving the dildo home and his voice trailed off in a whimpering and raging acceptance. Sheila loved the sound of outrage and uncomprehending tone to his voice and the steady protests and the cries of great pain. She began rotating her hips as she thrust now, really getting into the spirit of it. So this is rape, she thought, well, so be it, and she felt as if she were Ginger that afternoon fucking and plunging and instructing.
Ginger had taught her well, and suddenly it occurred to Sheila that this violation could be all the more enjoyable if she combined the pain with a bit of pleasure, just as Ginger had demonstrated. She butt-fucked her hubby violently for perhaps five minutes, reveling in the sound of his drooling mouth gurgling against the carpet, his sobbing protests muffled and rising in time to her hip-slams.
Then, skillfully, she reached beneath him with one hand and began stroking his flaccid penis. He was very drunk and very turned off, she guessed. Otherwise it would not have taken him so long to respond. But finally, she felt his meat beginning to expand and lengthen in response to her coaxing fingers. Finally, he had managed to attain something of a medium hard-on, despite himself.
Once again she increased the force of her butt fucking as she seriously and tenaciously worked his foreskin back and forth, back and forth. The tone of his protests and grunting changed to that of pain blended with a hint of startled and outraged pleasure. She could only guess at what must be going through his mind, and the thought brought an evil smile to her lips. What would a man think, who, upon entering his own home, found himself tripped to the floor, hastily bound, and then getting fucked in the ass? It must truly be the most mind-blowing (and ass-rending) experience of a man's lifetime!
Once again, to dispel any possibility that his attacker could be a woman-much less his own wife-Sheila growled low in perfect rhythm to her hip thrusts. She drove the instrument savagely and to the hilt with each in-stroke, and as she withdrew each out-stroke she wagged her lower body from side to side to insure and intensify the maximum pain.
But his cock had grown quite hard in her hand. And the thought struck her that his body had to be interpreting what she was doing as pleasurable. Why else the hard-on? Oh, it was just too beautiful! Sheila felt as if she were avenging the injustice done women everywhere over the centuries. She wished she had a movie of her raping her husband. Hell, it could even become a national hobby, with women raping their husbands all over the world. She could hear women, as if in some crazy, blurred dream, telling their husbands, "If you come home drunk tonight, I'll be waiting to rape your ass! Hear?" And she could see men cowering, fearful, terrified of going to sleep lest they be bound and ass-fucked for their disobedience.
On Sheila fucked, reveling in this incredible pony ride that brought male grunts with each mighty thrust. But now his grunts definitely exuded pleasure. Despite himself, the steady stimulation of his cock had him seeking some kind of crazy relief along with the intense pain. When the pleasure sounded too intense, she would give his testicles a hard, vise-like squeeze until he shrieked in agony. And then she would resume the jerking on his very hard prick until his grunts and groans sounded receptive again.
It was easily the most exciting act she had ever indulged in-in all of her life. Slam, slam at his asshole ... jerk him off a bit ... then squeeze his nuts till he protested, then repeat the whole delightful ritual.
It was on the third hard-driving pleasure period, following the squeezing of his balls, that Mike began to emit awesome and terrifying groans of intense pleasure. His cock had become very, very hard now-bone-hard and dripping with semen-and he was gasping as though he were enduring some sex delight too awesome to bear.
"Aaaaaooooohhhhh!" he wailed. "Jes-sussss, it-it's too good to stand. Oh, you bastard, whoever you are ... I-I never felt anything liii-eeehhhkkk it before. Angh-angh-angh-angh....Oou-Ouu-Ouu. I h-a-t-e youuuuuu! YOU GODDAM FAGGOT ... Ahhhhh!"
As the delicious current washed through his body, Mike sounded, briefly, as if he had sobered up! He wailed and cursed, alternately cursing the fag who was banging him, then singing hymns to the God of Orgasm. Bewildered, baffled, marveling at the power she wielded, Sheila increased the tempo of her hand on his hard-on and slammed away at his ass with increased fervor. It was an incredible treat to hear her husband so totally bewildered-enraged and tantalized at the same time. Christ, what if he liked it so much he started visiting gay bars for huge-pricked men to service him? That would be a hot one all right. Or what if he discovered somehow that it was she who had banged him and then insisted on this anal service regularly.
She dismissed this notion from her mind as too terrible to think about and leaned back to seek out new points of contact. It hurt, of course, and Mike again wailed out in desperate pain. She liked that sound, for a change of pace from his frantic praise. Enjoying herself, she again slammed him from first the right and then the left. It reminded her of riding the merry-go-round as a little girl. She leaned this way and that, really getting into the rhythm and spirit of the ride. "Wheeee !" she cried in a very low voice.
Suddenly Mike made a desperate effort to toss his rider. He very nearly caught her off guard, too, as he hurled himself to the left. But Sheila held on hard, tenaciously, raising his bound hands at the same time and soon he was back in fucking position, gasping and pleading for mercy.
She felt that it might be time to think about dismounting. After all, his ass had certainly been thoroughly reamed, and the truth was she was totally exhausted. Also, she had vented enough rage for one night. The next question that came to mind was, Was he sober enough to come and if so, should she leave him without orgasm, or should she go ahead and let him spew his spend in her hand or on the floor? It would certainly be messy and she had no desire to get down on her knees tomorrow and clean it up.
She decided that it would be all right to go ahead and let him climax. In that way, he would be certain to sleep well. This would give her time to make the bedroom look as if it had been rifled and the kitchen window appear as if a burglar had broken in. Besides, he was her husband. He had not always been a selfish and inconsiderate bastard. Yes, she decided, she would permit him this one indulgence, this grand finale. He had been degraded and humiliated enough for one night. Then she would leave him face-down on the floor. She hoped he would pass out and sleep there, but if he chose to crawl to the bedroom, that was his business. Leave the prick to fend for himself, she thought.
She reduced her jabs to his rectum to a minimum then, and concentrated on providing intense stimulation to his prick.
His response was immediate. Once again he began groaning as if he could not bear the excruciating pleasure. He sounded the way he did when she sucked his cock, or the way he did just before he came while fucking her. Her fucking thrusts were very short now and she held his erect cock hard in her palm and jiggled rapidly, trying to overcome the effects of the alcohol in his system. She could tell that he was very close, and she pumped on his cock harder, harder.
When his gasps grew terrifying, she knew he was about to "blow his wad," as he was fond of saying. And then he muttered just that.
He sounded like a very inebriated Tarzan who had perhaps entangled his testicles in jungle vines. There it was again:
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"
She resented his pleasure, but the poor bastard deserved it, she reckoned. She hoped Ginger did not find out she had let him come. That was no doubt forbidden, but maybe she could keep it a secret from her sadistic instructor next door.
Mike's body was bucking violently now, convulsing and making sounds she had never heard from his lips. It was like a wounded animal in pain and yearning for death-no, like she imagined a coyote would sound at the instant of orgasm.
"Aaaaaaooooooohhhhhhh!!" he wailed, and there was a trace of Tarzan in it, too. He certainly was carried away for a drunken man.
She had never dreamed a man's ass could be so sensitive to stimulation, and again she hoped she had not created an anal addict.
And then she felt the first blast of sperm in her hand. Thank god, she thought. At last. She was on the verge of collapse herself. His big, hard cock was jerking now as his come spurted again and again and his body shuddered and he grunted out vocal accompaniment to the rhythm of his bobbing balls. "Angh-angh-angh...."
At that instant she thought of herself as a kind of angel of mercy, but the image was strange in her mind. An angel with a dildo strapped about her waist?
Mike had risen to his knees during the course of the proceedings, but he now fell flat on his face onto the rug and lay there twitching out the aftermath of his climax. Poor devil! Sheila thought, riding him as he fell forward, not letting him unplug from her magnificent leather penis.
"G'bye, you bastard," she growled as she imagined a burglar-rapist would, and then withdrew the dildo slowly, got up and stood staring down at her fallen prey. He made no effort to move, and in the darkness he sounded very drunk again, babbling something about being "raped." She quickly untied the cord from the furniture legs, then gathered up the Vaseline, everything, and moved quickly to the bathroom. She tossed the stocking mask, Vaseline, cord, dildo, all of it in the bottom of the laundry hamper, then tiptoed to the kitchen. There, she put a dish towel against the glass over the dinette and hit the pane with her fist. The glass shattered and she removed the screen and let it drop to the ground outside, leaving evidence of a burglar.
Back in the bedroom, she quietly and efficiently opened several drawers and threw articles of clothing and costume jewelry on the floor. No sound came from the living room, and for this she was grateful. She stealthily made her way through the dining room and peeked around the corner at her husband. He was snoring very loudly in erratic snorts and growls. So what else is new? she thought. He comes and then he falls asleep! But she had the consolation of knowing that he was going to be very, very sore in the morning. And confused. It would be interesting to hear what he had to say by way of explanation-if he remembered.
There was the remote possibility that he might wake up and crawl like a shot homing pigeon to his nest, so she climbed into bed, pulled the covers up under her chin and prepared to sleep.
A sudden feeling of exhilaration surged through her body. I did it! She had accomplished a near-impossible-mission. She had actually felled a big male and, having overpowered him, violated his most precious privacy!
Sheila thought about that for a long time, grinning and very pleased with herself. She had obeyed Ginger's instructions, true, but more important she had had to conceive and execute a most difficult plan-and all by herself. "Females of the world, unite!" she said aloud, and then she closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.
CHAPTER SIX
Sheila was thrilled, and frankly a little surprised, at how well things were going. Richie had discovered his father that morning hog-tied, half-naked and in a drunken stupor on the living room floor. When they finally revived Mike and were able to question him, they all concluded it must have been a burglar, judging from the broken kitchen window and the rifled bedroom drawers. Richie was content to leave it at that, and so was Sheila, but poor Mike was in obvious and embarrassed pain, favoring his sore ass with each crab-like step. He said it was nothing and mumbled something about his back being out of whack because of being tied up all night. But when Sheila overheard him on the phone, making an appointment with a Dr. Richardson-a strange doctor on the other side of town-and whispering something about his asshole, she knew she had taught her husband a lesson he would not forget for a long, long time.
Sheila had just finished her usual Saturday chores and Mike had driven off for his asshole appointment when the phone rang. She crossed the living room, passed through the dining room to the kitchen and answered the wall phone in the kitchen.
"Hello," she said evenly.
It was Ginger. Sheila said, "Just a second," then called out to Richie. He answered from his room, and she told him to remain there with his door closed until she called him. He said, "Yes, ma'am," and when she was certain he had closed the door, she removed her hand from the mouthpiece. "Yes, Ginger," she said apologetically. "I had to be certain Richie was in his room."
"Good," Sheila said. "As a matter-of-fact, I am calling in regard to Richie. I believe I told you that my stepdaughter Donna was at summer camp."
"Yes, you did," Sheila said, and for some strange reason she very nearly added, "master." Ginger exerted an incredibly powerful influence, even over the telephone.
"Good-well, Donna is returning day after tomorrow, so I want you to begin priming Richie for his meeting with her. As I told you, Donna is already a very skilled dominatrix." She emitted a strange laugh. "In fact, she has written me that she was able to hopelessly addict one of the male counselors at camp to her. She allowed him one brief sexual contact, and since that time she was successful in whipping him to the point of unconsciousness. Donna is a splendid girl-one of my best pupils."
Uh-that's good news," Sheila said, lying. In truth, she found the news rather disgusting. Somehow, today, Ginger's evil influence seemed to have lost some of its strength.
"How was she able to accomplish this?"
"Simple," Ginger spat. "Women who follow my instructions to the letter can accomplish miracles with the male animal. She was able to lure him into the woods and tie him to a tree. He submitted, of course. They always do once they have been properly conditioned. First flogging, then anal rape, all of it. Donna is most adept at male degradation. You can learn much from her."
"Yes, admirable," Sheila said. "You said I should begin priming Richie for her. In what way?"
"You have already degraded him and had genital-mouth contact with him, correct?"
"Correct."
"Very well," Ginger said sharply. "Then now you must proceed by allowing genital-to-genital contact. Fucking."
"I was saving that for his report card. If he made all A's I was going to permit the fucking then," Sheila said.
Ginger sighed impatiently. "So it was. But now there has been a revision in the plan. You will execute the change in plans at once. Seduce him and include intense anal stimulation."
Everything was getting awfully anal of late, Sheila thought, not really looking forward to the act. She wished there were more variety in store for her. Why did all this have to include asshole activity? She did not question her neighbor, however, for already she could sense the strength of Ginger's will beginning to assert itself in some astonishing way.
"Very good, Ginger," Sheila replied in an even voice. "It shall be done."
"Fine, Pelham," Ginger said, for the first time addressing her by her last name, as if she were some kind of army recruit. "See that this is accomplished this afternoon. Send your husband away and execute this phase of the plan. Is your husband an obstacle?"
Sheila was pleased to report the success of last night. She told Ginger everything, sparing no details, and when she had finished, her instructor complimented her.
"Excellent, Pelham," Ginger said. "Really excellent. You have done your work well. At least thus far. But it is highly important that you execute this next phase without error. My Donna will be a truly formidable asset in the days and weeks to come. She will be instrumental in absolutely crushing both your husband and young Richie. Yes, Richie," she said, and her voice trailed off in strange laughter. "Poor Richie," she said.
"A young girl can not only break a young boy's heart, she can enslave him as no other female can. Under the guise of puppy love, a girl can deprive a boy of his masculinity forever. You understand what I am saying."
"Yes, Ginger," Sheila replied.
"And, in addition, naturally the firm, young body of a teenager can bring the adult male to his knees too. We've all seen that spectacle at least a thousand times."
"Yes, many times," Sheila agreed, feeling as before that she was being hypnotized.
"Wait till you see this sixteen-year-old in action. She's a model of ball-crushing female power."
"I am sure she must be, Ginger," Sheila said. "And your husband, Ginger-will he pose an obstacle to these plans?"
"Do you dare imply that my plan is flawed?"
"I am sorry," Sheila said. "Please forgive me. I was only curious, so that I might listen and learn and improve my tactics."
"You are forgiven, Pelham. As a matter-of-fact, at this instant my husband is upstairs securely strapped to the wall. Yes, Loren served me breakfast in bed, and then I whipped him and made him nurse on my breasts, cunt and rectum for nearly an hour. If Donna had not been at camp, he would have serviced her also."
"Her own father?" Sheila asked incredulously. "Of course. Incestuous degradation is one of the most fascinating aspects of this discipline." She paused. "So do not gloat in your momentary victory over your husband. I have gone farther, Pelham. Much farther. At this moment, my Loren is still upstairs, as I said. And, besides his most painful position against the wall, there is a phallic vibrator-approximately fourteen inches in length-clamped securely in place in his rectum. He will begin to scream soon-it has that effect after a while on the central nervous system-and then I shall wait for five minutes and release him to an ice-cold tub.
"When he is able to speak once again-and walk-he will serve me lunch on our patio. It is important that you make total slaves of these males, you see. Robots, actually. The beauty of it is that they are still able to function as moneymakers. My Loren is still able to function as a dentist to provide for our needs, just as your Michael will function on his job. This is essential to our leisurely pursuits. Richie will also be able to function in school. See what you have to look forward to-if you follow my methods to the letter? You like, eh?"
"Yes, Ginger," Sheila replied, her voice low and foreign-sounding to her own ears. "I like ... I like ... I like ... I-"
"Very good, Sheila," Ginger snapped. "That's enough! I have made the passivity test on you, and I am confident that you will begin the important work on Richie. At once! Goodbye."
There was a harsh click in Sheila's ear, jarring her from a semi-trance. She took a deep breath, then placed the phone receiver back in its cradle.
"Richie!" she called immediately. "Richie ... Richie, come out here!"
In a moment, Richie appeared in the hallway. "Yes, Sheila?"
"You have been a good boy, Richie," she said, smiling. "I have decided to give you your reward sooner than I told you. Go into my bedroom and lie down. Now."
Sheila disrobed, leaving her clothing in a heap on the floor. Then, stark naked, she entered the bedroom. She was pleased that Richie's eyes opened wide at the sight of her nakedness. She went quickly to the bed and sat down at the edge, staring hungrily down at the young male in wait. She reached out and began massaging the bulge at his crotch. His prick jerked to attention and his eyes rolled.
"You like that, don't you?" she asked.
His eyes were riveted to her breasts. "Go ahead and touch them," Sheila said, purring as she continued massaging his hard-on. He did, and she told him to concentrate on the nipples. As he brought them to erection, she unbuttoned his denims and let his big meat-hunk flop free. She bent down and gave it a long, lingering, wet Mss. It was dribbling as usual and she swallowed his lubricant. "You have a simply beautiful prick, young man," she complimented. "Today I am going to let it find out what a juicy cunt feels like."
"Really? Really?" He could hardly speak.
"Yes, but first I want to suck on it for a while. You like the way it feels when I take it in my mouth, don't you?"
"I love it," the boy said. "More than anything." Then, as she took it into her mouth, letting it glide gently between the soft-wet interior of her lips, he groaned and murmured. "I'll do anything for you, Sheila. You're the most beautiful girl in the world."
It pleased her that he had said "girl" instead of woman. She fondled his large, firmly packed scrotum with the heel of her hand as she drew on the big fleshy hard-on with her persistent mouth. She could actually feel it pulsing on the underside. When it was at full-length, she stared down at its immensity, then nursed on his nipples for a moment while teasing his asshole. A sudden thought struck her. True, it was not an authorized act. But she thought Ginger would appreciate this little additional touch nevertheless.
She reached over and picked up the bedside phone. Before she dialed, she said, "As always, you will obey me in all things?"
"Sure," Richie promised. "Anything."
"Good, then lick my cunt while I talk on the phone. And do anything else I tell you to do." Richie nodded, eager, and Sheila reclined on the bed with her back against the headboard. Actually, she was sitting. She drew her knees up, exposing the fur of her cunt, then spread her legs and pointed at her pussy.
"Eat while I talk," she instructed.
Richie got down on his hands and knees and began licking.
"Harder," she said, staring down at his blond head dining at her wettening hole. She took his head in her hands and shoved it up and down, up and down. "Yes, harder-and eat everything. I want to hear you licking my twat. Yes, that way-lower, lower-eat my ass, everything."
The hot-wet tongue in her cunt and asshole felt good and she shoved her pelvis at the young, obedient face as it ate. He was getting good at cunt-eating. He took her outer-lips in between his lips and washed them with his tongue. Then he would dart up to give her clit a slurping Mss, and then he would bob deep and lick her ass. She kept shoving her cunt at him and telling him to "eat, eat, eat."
He groaned with appreciation as he gorged himself on everything she had and she could see his thick hard-on standing at maximum length and dripping while he ate.
"Good boy," she complimented. "Girls like boys' tongues between their legs-almost as much as their pricks. Pretty soon your aching prick will be right inside where you're licking, Richie. Just keep thinking about that while you suck and swallow my cunt juice."
"Ummm ... ummm ... er ... gmm ... arghmm," she could hear him grunting as his throat constricted and his tongue slid from the back of her ass to the top of her cunt.
She kept on pumping her two holes at his face, staring down at him in quiet appreciation as he gurgled and snorted there between her legs. In a way it was disgusting-this using of another human being-but in a more important way that was exactly what made it so thoroughly enjoyable. Yes, she had literally created a human cunt eating machine that would do her biding whenever she craved mouth-service. A nice young one....
She palmed the nice balls then, and before dialing Ginger, she decided to have a brief taste of them-for her own enjoyment and also to spur the lad on. She shoved Richie's mouth to the side and dived slowly until her mouth came in contact with his balls. Their scent was delicious, and she lapped them for a moment before taking each almond-shaped beauty deep into her mouth and bathing it. She licked the tip clean of its goo also before sitting up again.
"Lick cunt again," she ordered, and then she dialed Ginger.
Ginger answered on the second ring.
"Names are unimportant right now," Sheila said, "but I just thought you might like to know that I have a young man eating my cunt right now. He's on his hands and knees here on the bed. My legs are spread and he's eating my cunt and my asshole. Would you like to hear?"
Ginger laughed. "Fine! Splendid! I love the way you're really getting into the spirit of this, girl," she complimented. "Yes, I would love to listen. As a matter-of-fact, my Loren is eating my cunt right now. First, you listen."
There was a brief pause while Ginger transferred the phone receiver to her cunt, and then Sheila heard very loud gulping sounds mingled with intense and hysterical pleasure.
"Just a moment," Ginger said. "I'll let him give you his name while he's down there sucking. If it sounds very, very squishy that is because I have spread marshmallow sauce all over my pussy and rectum. Here, listen ... Loren, dear, tell the nice lady your name."
There was a brief cessation in the gurgling, licking noises, and then Sheila heard an almost ghostly sounding voice say, "I am Loren ... my name is L-o-r-e-n."
There was a loud stinging noise, undoubtedly a slap, and then Sheila heard the male voice say. "I suck my mistress ... I do a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g she tells meeeee...."
"Of course you do, slave!" Ginger's voice said sternly. "Now lick the marshmallow sauce out. Then you may have the chocolate. Two large cans full-from my crotch."
There was another hard slap, and then Ginger's voice came over the receiver again. "Well, you heard my doggie. Let me hear yours. But press his mouth hard against your asshole so that he speaks directly from there. Do it!"
Sheila instructed Richie to lick her bung and speak at the same time. "Good, now tell my lady friend your name!" She slapped him harder into position and spread her legs even wider to accommodate the sloppy-wet face and permit her a good view of the gulping mouth. "Speak! Say your name and keep on saying it till I tell you to stop!" Sheila lowered the receiver next to the lips and tongue that were reaming her. "Speak, goddamit or I'll squeeze your balls so hard you'll never suck or fuck again!"
"R-i-c-h-i-e" the boy said. "R-I-C-H-I-E....
R-I-C-H-I-E ... R-I-C-H-I-E "
"Let my friend hear you suck my butt, loud!" While Richie spat and licked and gulped, Sheila held the receiver against his mouth. "Louder! Louder!"
The gulping, smacking sounds of saliva were very loud. Sheila said, "Now tell my friend what you're doing! Tell her what you're doing!"
"I'm eating h-her," Richie gurgled. "I'm eating my stepmother's cunt."
"What else are you eating?" Sheila screamed. "I'm eating Sheila's asshole ... eating h-her c-cunt and a-asshole...."
"Very good, Richie," Sheila complimented. "You're a nice little doggie. Yes, you are ... now tell my friend why you like to suck me. Tell her all about it, and don't stop till I say so."
The boy's mouth could barely form words, and he was drenched from his eyebrows to his chest with cunt juice. "I like to put my mouth on m-my s-stepmother's p-pussy. I-I eat it ... I l-lick it ... I d-do w-whatever she tells me t-to."
Sheila lifted the receiver once again. It was slippery in her hand. "Good, young man-now tell her what else you like to eat. Only tell her you love it-not just like it but love it. TELL HER!" Sheila slapped him hard before returning the receiver to his trembling lips.
"I l-love to suck her bottom and h-her c-cunt ... I l-love to d-do t-this to her. I-I'm even g-gonna f-fuck her t-today. I n-never f-fucked before, but t-today Sheila's g-gonna let m-me f-fuck herrrrr...."
"Could you hear that? Yes, he's still sucking. Yes, I understand ... yes, I will ... what? All right...."
"My friend wants to hear you in pain a little, dear. So pardon me. I have specific instructions, you see."
Sheila leaned forward and found his asshole with her middle finger. Her nails were quite sharp. "Keep sucking-no matter what," she instructed. And then she dug as hard as possible at the tight anus, sending her middle finger in up to the knuckle.
Richie emitted a very long, ear-shattering scream of intense pain. "Very good," Sheila said. "Only louder, and keep on sucking." Once again, she jammed the middle finger in even more brutally this time. He then instantly resumed his cunt-licking.
"Could you hear that all right, dear?" Sheila asked.
The reply was an incredibly long and eerie, almost bloodcurdling wail of the most intense agony Sheila had ever heard. It was obviously Ginger's husband. Ginger was a hard one to top. As an instructress, she had demonstrated that her male could scream even louder than Sheila's.
"That was a three-finger thrust," Ginger announced proudly. "It takes at least three fingers these days to get a suitable response. You see, dear? Are you beginning to grasp the fringe benefits of this activity. Here we are, both of us reclining and having our cunts eaten by low-life males, as we converse by telephone. Isn't it just too marvelous? Isn't it beyond your wildest dreams."
"Yes, it is," Sheila answered, and she meant it. For the very first time she truly realized the unlimited possibilities for expressing herself, for realizing the abject slavery of men. "Oh-oh," she said, "that last bit of screaming nearly got me off. I was just about to come. Fortunately, I jerked his mouth from my twat in the nick of time."
"Good girl," Ginger said encouragingly. "I find that it's best to transfer them from my vagina to my breasts when I'm too close. It keeps me stimulated but it reduces the risk of my reaching orgasm. For endurance, you know?"
"Good, I'll make the transfer right now," Sheila said. "There, now he's gulping at my nipples. Can you hear him?"
"Yes," Ginger said. "Yes, I can. Isn't it a beautiful sound?"
"Absolutely the most beautiful!" Sheila agreed. "I-I didn't dream it could be this rewarding."
"You might slowly jerk his meat while he sucks your nipples," Ginger suggested. "I find that most enjoyable. Keeps him going and you can slap his balls every now and then."
Sheila gave Richie's balls a slight slap. He groaned, then resumed his nursing at her swollen breasts. She moved his face to her cunt again.
"Yes," Sheila replied. "Very nice. I did it. Did you hear? I slapped his nuts."
"I heard. Good," Ginger said. "Tell me, does he have a big cock?"
"Very, yes."
"Good, then you have more to work with. Excellent. I do envy you, darling. My Loren's is fairly medium in length and width. Also, he's inclined to get limp from the years of degradation and hurtful games. I imagine your Richie's ass is nice and tight, too."
"Oh, yes. Very. Like a baby's."
"How delightful!" Ginger exclaimed. "My Loren's has gotten quite loose over the years. I've plugged him with some pretty giant objects, you know. He's as loose as a goose."
Both women chuckled as their men gorged themselves on gushing vaginas. The conversation continued as the males licked. The licking was broken only with intermittent sounds of sharp slaps to spur them on-that and gasping for air as they tried to breathe with their snouts imbedded in cunt and asshole.
"One more thing before I hang up, dear, and before you permit that little man his first fuck-"
"Yes?"
"It's important that you make him feel very badly about the size of his organ. I cannot stress this enough, and I hope you are listening very, very carefully."
Sheila slid Richie lower, so that his nose was pressed deeply into her anus. "Yes, Ginger. What is it? Pardon me, I had to lower him to a better pressure point."
"It's all right to praise him during his first fuck, but afterward, you must make him feel inferior about his prick. Tell him he is a terrible fuck. Tell him his prick is ugly. Make him believe that it is far smaller than the pricks you prefer and are accustomed to. Yes, make him a tiger during that first fuck, but from that moment on make him cringe and weep every time he even remotely begins to think his cock is normal. HE MUST BELIEVE THAT HIS PRICK IS HIDEOUS. HE MUST LEARN TO DESPISE IT AND FEEL TOTALLY INADEQUATE!"
"Yes, Ginger, but-"
"But what?"
"Well, won't that make him-well, impotent?"
Sheila was certain Richie could not understand what they were speaking about. Further, her inner thighs were placed so that he could not hear, anyway. "Excuse me, again," Sheila apologized, "but I had to make sure my legs were over his ears. I wouldn't want him to know the plan."
"You are a splendid pupil!" Ginger praised. "You knew my favorite trick without my even telling you. My own legs have been over Loren's ears the same way. Good girl!"
"Thank you," Sheila said.
"Now, as for this ideas of impotence, don't you-or rather haven't you yet guessed that-that this is what it's all about?"
"You mean?"
"Precisely. I hadn't planned to reveal the ultimate objective at this point, but since it came up-well, there you have it! Ultimately, we seek total impotence of the goddam male animal!!"
"Ultimately?"
"Yes, but not at first. We use them to meet our needs in the beginning. Gradually their hard-ons droop-more, more, more-until the dumb shits can't ever get it up again! How else would we control them? We make clits of their cocks. Next to castrating them, this is the next best thing. We don't castrate them because then we couldn't continue to propagate more females."
Sheila frowned even as young Richie licked at her cunt. She had had no idea about the ultimate objective. It seemed a little terrifying. It called for a total revision of her thinking-the thinking of a lifetime!
"But won't they become absolutely useless?" she asked.
"Naturally. That's the point. They become total slaves-our slaves. They become docile, effeminate slaves. We have each other for true sexual fulfillment-women with women-and leave them to each other. We use them only for making more human beings-by test tube or whatever way we choose."
"Oh," Sheila said. "I had no idea."
"Well, now you know. Isn't it beautiful? In the words of one famous lady, paraphrasing of course, 'Let them eat cock!' "
"Th-they'll just have each other?"
"Right-that is, unless we decide to use them as we're using them at this instant-to lap our cunts till they're dry. But of course by that time in this movement, this world movement, we'll have each other to achieve our orgasms. Darling, it's women with women and men with men. Don't you see?"
"Yes, I guess I do," Sheila said. But that means-"
"Correct," Ginger said, her voice triumphant, filled with pride. "WE MAKE HOMOSEXUALS OF THEM ALL!"
Sheila gazed down at young Richie eating between her legs. She felt a twinge of sadness. Richie was young enough. Yes, there was time to take every last trace of masculinity away from him. There would be plenty of time. But surely it could not, would not work.
Ginger went on. "We have people working toward this end all over the world right now. Just think for a moment. Unisex! right? Men are looking more like females every day, dressing like them, acting like them, thinking like them. We have clothing designers, writers, publishers, scientists, government leaders, men and women in the media-all working toward the same end. What do you think Women's Lib is really all about?"
Surely she's kidding, Sheila thought. The woman is mad. The total-well, she didn't know the correct name for it-paranoiac, schizophrenic?
"I hadn't considered that," Sheila said.
"Of course not, dear. You're not supposed to-not yet. Don't you see? That would be catastrophic. Men would resist it, and with their superior strength, their superior positions in the system, they would crush us. They would make us, once again, the slaves we've been for so long! But they don't know. People of our persuasion have rendered them incapable of suspecting even if it hit them in the face."
Richie was slowing down, but he was still sucking, licking greedily, totally her slave. The thought struck Sheila that if Richie could be rendered so totally enslaved in such a short time that indeed this conspiracy could work. Sex would be the weapon that would reduce the male animal to complete and willing subservience.
"Yes, maybe you're right," Sheila said, enjoying the tongue against her clit too much. In fact, it felt so good she was on the edge of orgasm. She transferred him to her breasts once again and let him suck her nipples for a change of pace. Poor dear, she thought.
"Yes, maybe it will work."
"Will work?" Ginger cried. "It is working! All around you it's up with everything female and down with everything that is even slightly traditionally male. Isn't it unfashionable to hunt for most men anymore? I could go on for hours citing example after example. We have made macho a dirty word and sensitive and passive and compromise have become beautiful. We've made incredible headway in every walk of life."
"Yes, I suppose you-uh-we have," Sheila agreed.
"But I won't trouble you anymore with policy and our progress this afternoon," Ginger said. "I mean, you have a young man to attend to. His first fuck. Imagine! You must be very proud. You can bend him from the very beginning. You are very fortunate indeed, my dear."
"Yes, very fortunate," Sheila said, watching Richie mouth her tits adoringly, dutifully, even though he was exhausted.
"Mainly, though, I want to cut this delightful conversation off because Loren is tiring and I am ready for my afternoon orgasm. I think it's time to let him make me come, then lock him in the closet until I awake and let him out to cook my dinner. Bye, dear. I am extremely pleased with your progress. I was fearful of your point-of-view for a while there, but now I see that you are one of us. Congratulations. You will come to me day after tomorrow to meet young Donna. At that time, I will offer you further instruction and, once again, we will be intimate. Bye-bye, darling. I love you. I'm coming now, so I have to hang up."
There was a click on the other end of the line. Sheila placed the phone back in its cradle and gently lifted Richie's head from her breasts.
"Excellent, Richie," she said. "You may stop. We'll rest a moment and then we'll let you sink that lovely prick of yours in a juicy, hot cunt for the first time. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
The boy could not answer. He rolled over onto his back, gasping as he stared at the ceiling, fighting for breath with his delicious-looking hard-on still standing straight up in the air.
Well, it wouldn't be sticking up in the air a few years from now, she thought. Not if what Ginger said were true. But it pleased Sheila that she would be able to give him his first orgasm within a vagina. At least he would have that to remember.
Oddly, she realized she was performing a vital service-for Richie, and ultimately, for Ginger and her comrades.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The boy was very tired, and so Sheila let him rest for a bit. Perhaps ten minutes passed before Sheila began running her fingers ripplingly up and down his leg. He lay on his back, naked, legs slightly apart and his face was turned, facing her. She raised herself on one elbow, lying on her side herself and bent her head and placed a long, loving kiss on his full lips.
She continued kissing his face, his eyes, chin, forehead, everywhere, as she let her hand roam the length of his leg. Timidly, he reached out and fondled her hanging breast at the same time she let her hand come to rest on his testicles. He sighed, and she gently ran fluttering fingers up and down the length of his engorged shaft that twitched and pulsed in eager readiness. Gone was her desire to instruct painfully. There was no trace of the desire to hurt, or abuse, or use this young male beside her who had waited so patiently for so long. This was the moment he had been waiting for so long, his loss of virginity, and she wanted it to be a memorable and beautiful experience for him. No matter what had preceded this event, and no matter what was to follow, she wanted to give of herself unselfishly and let him send the tingling swirl of his young male seed flinging into her with love and understanding that a female was a beautiful thing to mate with and cling to.
Sheila let her fingers toy with his nipples while, further below, she stroked and caressed his erection. It was at full length now and she teased and fondled it lovingly as she prepared him for his first fuck. He sighed, still remaining somewhat passive as though not knowing what to expect. So much had confused him of late. But now she offered him the promise of delights and he seemed to understand that there would be no painful surprises this time, no puzzling commands, no alternation of pleasure with pain or degradation.
He murmured, "Sheila ... Sheila," and his voice was a thing of hunger and the anticipation of fulfillment. She was pleased that she had communicated nothing other than a desire to share with him a delicious and prolonged orgasm with a female.
"Sheila," he murmured once again, "Sheila," and then she clasped his firm, strong erection gently and began working his foreskin slowly up and down his flesh sheath. "Ohhh, Sheila...."
"I don't want you to worry about me at all, darling," she breathed in his ear, blowing, then tonguing it. "You have obeyed me, and I know it has been puzzling to you, but now I want you to think of nothing but yourself. I want you to do with me as you please, thinking not of my pleasure but only your own. My strong, handsome, lovely young man-I wish only for you to touch me where and how you please ... there is nothing I will not permit or encourage. Nothing. You have done all that I have requested of you, without protest, and now I want you to penetrate my body with your beautiful and god-given male instrument. Take your time, my darling. Take all the time you wish and do what has been hovering, loitering in your brain for so long. I understand everything, absolutely everything. No act is forbidden. I am yours, darling. My body is yours to do with as you please. I will love everything you do ... that's my promise to you."
His hands, both of them, were gently squeezing her breasts, and he turned onto his side, facing her so that his stout and very hard prick pressed lightly into her tummy. She cupped his balls with one hand, assessing and loving the weight of them, while her other hand reached behind him and offered encouragement by pulling gently at his buttocks. She loved the feel of his firm buttocks, so tense, so eager, so young and anxious to drive his shaft into the depths of her.
"You are a very intelligent and handsome and manly and sexy boy, Richie. I love you. I really do. This is a privilege for me, my darling. Giving myself to you in love is the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me. We will both remember it, I suppose, for the rest of our lives. You needn't hurry, darling. Make it last. No one will interrupt us, and I shall not issue one command. I am here only to give you anything you want. I love you...."
Richie's breath was coming very fast. He let his hand descend to her pubic mound and palmed it with his hand flat and jiggling.
"It's as though you never touched it before-my breasts or anything-isn't it, darling? I mean, all the rest was just playing and silly games. Because now you're going to slip your lovely, beautiful penis inside me and fuck me, aren't you? Now you're going to be a man. It's you who will tell me what to do-by your every move and gesture. It's you who will be commanding me now, with your every word and order. I am female and I am yours."
To her surprise, Richie slid upward on the bed until his pulsing manhood was against her breasts. Watching, staring down, he lay with his hard-on against the valley of her chest, then pressed each breast against his prick. His breath came very fast and he began to fuck her breasts that way. After a while, he slid back down, knowing obviously that she had meant what she had said about letting him be the aggressor, and he began to lightly probe at her cunt-top with the big head of his swollen penis.
"I love you, Sheila," he said. "I love you for letting me do this. Nothing matters about before. I love you for letting me fuck you. Oh, Sheila," and then he was kissing her ravenously, letting his open mouth wander all over her face as he steadily worked his cockhead between her legs, outside her moist pussy.
It wasn't as though she needed very much foreplay; he had been sucking on her breasts and cunt for a very long time, and now she was eager-desperate and eager-to receive his anxious and swollen meat in her vagina. She could imagine, already, how good it would feel to let him inside her cunt for the first time with his uninitiated cock. She decided then that she would speak to him as he entered, then as he fucked her-that is, unless he didn't seem to want these words of love. It would be entirely up to him, everything up to him on this, his very first time.
"Do you want me to do anything?" she sing-songed in a feathery whisper. "I'll do anything you say. You don't have to do anything at all that you don't really want to do, okay?"
"Okay," he said, and he raised her upper leg as she lay there on her side and let the length of his hot prick lay on her lower leg. Then he pressed the top leg down again and let his manhood lay in the heat of her valley between her legs. But still no attempt to enter her. She liked this. She liked it that he seemed not to be in any great hurry to sample the hot-wet climate of the vagina.
Yes, he was showing great maturity in his foreplay for a virgin boy. He was not trembling, nor on the brink of hasty shooting off. He took his time and she admired him for it.
"Whatever you want," she sighed. "Whatever, Richie ... anything you want, my handsome boy-man ... anything. Want me to do anything? Hmmm? Hmmm?"
"No," he said. "Nothing ... just lie still."
His voice was oddly authoritative, firmly and delightfully assertive. She was proud of him for this-after all he had been through. She felt herself grow more passive, more female, and it was a strange and lovely change. She gave herself totally to him, in mind and body, at that moment.
"I-I want you to fuck me, Richie. I've been waiting, more anxious than you, for you to fuck me, Richie. Can you believe that? It's true. I can hardly wait for you to stick it in my cunt and fuck me. Oh, fuck me pretty soon, Richie. Fuck me hard, or any way you want, but just fuck me! I want your cock in my cunt bad. I want it up and in there sticking me."
Richie kept his prick out of her channel for the moment, though, and continued thrusting so that the top of his enormous shaft scraped and rubbed against her clit. By pressing down she could increase the friction and it was heavenly, despite their previous sex play. She wanted it to pierce her now; almost desperately she wanted the big cock inside her cunt and shoving way up hard.
"Fuck me, Richie," she pleaded. "Please fuck me soon. Don't make me wait too long, hmm?"
"Pretty soon," he said, his voice low as he raised her upper leg and watched his purple-brown, bulbous head probed lightly at her pink and slick-wet pussy. "I'm gonna fuck your hole," he said. "I'm gonna slide it in there where it's hot and wet."
"Yes, darling," she moaned. "Oh, yessss. Fuck me, Richie...." And it seemed a strange irony that now Richie was teasing her, torturing her in a way. But it wasn't intentional. She knew that. He was merely taking his time, savoring the loss of his virginity, drawing it out and tantalizing himself. "Ohhhh, Richieeeee," she sighed. "I love your great big prick. You are a splendid man. I want it in meeeee...."
He held her upraised leg very high now, grasping it by the ankle, and he moved it in a circular motion as he watched his prickhead probe the gushing, slick-wet, downy fur about her glistening pink vagina. With each delicate thrust his prick seemed to penetrate another fraction of an inch. Oh, he was truly driving her crazy! He let his prickhead occasionally dip and lightly press against her bung, but he made no effort to enter there.
"Ohhhh, Richieeeee ... ummm ... wonderful ... your prick against my puss ... it's waiting for you, love ... hot and wet and waiting for you to slide inside and squirt me with gooey come "
And she meant what she said. Never before had she been more eager to be fucked.
And then his thick, hard, pulsing meat was slipping inside her, at first just the head, filling the entrance with its heat and male-force. He stuck a bit more of it up inside and she could feel the void getting filled by warmth and pulsing width.
"Ummm ... better than any-thinnnngggg," she sing-songed in his ear, biting his lobe and tugging at his ass persuasively, pleadingly.
He was all the way in now and rolling her onto her back, but suddenly he changed his mind and pulled her on top of him. This boy knew what he wanted, and she found that a mind-blowing thing. He was in charge and she let him lift her so that she straddled him. Their eyes made frantic contact then as he slid it all the way home with one slick stroke, right up the center, and he was fucking her and palming her ass and gulping at the hanging breasts as if they were sacred fruit-sacred hanging fruit that he nibbled and licked and sucked on while he raised his buttocks high from the mattress, imbedding himself further with each gentle but mighty jab.
"Fuck meeeeee, Richie...." she kept repeating, while he remained voiceless, efficiently breathing hard and giving her all he had. His breathing came fast, very fast, faster still, and then he rolled her onto her stomach and fucked her for awhile that way, dog-style, rubbing her breasts with greedy hands as his pelvis rammed and slammed very hard against her ass cheeks. God, his meat wedge seemed to be filling her totally, jabbing everywhere! He was fucking her with a fury now, coming at her from all angles and grunt-gasping with each collision of pelvis to her cunt. The big, probing cock stabbed hard, and up, and with unbelievable authority and need.
Sheila could not recall such a fuck as this, and just as she was on the verge of coming, he changed her to her back and gave her mighty spearing that way, coming down with sledgehammer force but not hurting, merely driving her crazy with need for orgasm and the thought of his young seed spilling into her and then lying trembling and spent and gasping against her breast. It was a mighty and wonderful fuck, this was, and she lifted with her legs, raising, making a platform for his need and lust as he banged and left no point of contact uncocked within her womb.
What a rhythm this boy had! He fucked like double fury. Her rectum tingled; her breasts responded beneath his steady clenching hand while his other hand lifted, tugged up on her clenched and juice-wet ass cheeks, lifting, bending her to his savage-gentle will.
And all the while she kept on murmuring in his ear, telling him to "fuck me ... wonderful ... stick me nice ... make mama come ... give it to me ... lovely, beautiful prick-man ... sooo goood ... umm-umm-ummm ... fill me with cock ... it's way up ... hot-wet ... stick me! Stick me!"
She knew then he was coming. His little growls and gasp-grrs came there amidst the panting, and his drives became very, very forceful ... trembling and virginal-forceful....
"Coming, baby?" she inquired so softly. "Coming now, huh? Ummm, I know you are, so let your babies fly ... shoot your love-juice in me ... ummm-umm-umm-ummm ... go ahead and squirt it in me. Hot, huh? Hot and juicy in my pussy? Go ahead and shoot your stuff ... inside me? Hmmm? Come, baby. Go ahead and come now. Mama's commmminnng, too!"
And then he shuddered-a terrifying thing of gasps and relief and awe at being in a female for the very first time. He gasped and shuddered for a very long time before she was able to bring him back to earth. The after-jolts continued for a very long time. But finally there came what sounded to Sheila like the biggest and last of his post-orgasmic shudder-whimpers.
"Good, baby?" she asked.
"I never felt anything like it," he said. "It was the best thing that ever happened to me." And then, like all males, at least the ones who care, he asked. "You? Did you really come, Sheila? Did I make you come?"
"Yes, darling," she said, and it was the truth. "Oh, yes, my darling, and it was the best come I ever had. That's the truth! You are a magnificent love-maker. Truly magnificent. No matter what has happened, or what will happen, you must always remember that you are an all-man, beautiful lover. Any woman would be delighted to have you make love to her. You are beautiful, heavenly, ummm ... do you want to fuck some more? Hmm? You can fuck me all you want today. After today I don't know, but today we can fuck again, and again. Hmmm? Want to be in my pussy some more?"
He wanted to be inside her pussy some more, so they fucked two more times and both times Sheila came. She wished there were no Ginger, but there was. She did not know what would happen after today with Richie but it had been wonderful, and she knew she had given Richie an important and good first fuck he would always remember. And that made her feel very good. It was important to give a boy a good first fuck, and she was proud. She even liked herself for a change. She liked herself a lot.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Under clear, early August skies, Sheila reclined in the afternoon sun with Ginger as Richie and Ginger's precocious and ravenously beautiful stepdaughter Donna frolicked in the new swimming pool. The pool had been built of threats and domination, true, but Sheila was proud of bending her husband's will under Ginger's skillful tutelage.
The two women watched, pleased with all that had transpired these past weeks. Both husbands now performed to their wives commands-quickly, efficiently, subserviently. It had been amusing, too, the way young Donna had steadily been bringing Richie under control. Sex, of course, had been her principal weapon. In fact, both Ginger and Sheila had watched her first seduction of Richie through the see-through mirror in Ginger's upstairs bedroom. It had been a masterpiece of seduction by a sixteen-year-old girl. Yes, Donna was a splendid seductress, and after the initial sexual encounter between the two teenagers, Donna had demonstrated her skill and finesse at dominating the boy. He now enjoyed occasional floggings, paddlings and spankings, and he obeyed her commands without hesitation.
The youngsters were very close together in the deep end of the large pool now, face to face, and the women guessed they were up to underwater sex-play. Sheila and Ginger watched indulgently, enjoying themselves. The expression on Richie's face as Donna played with his prick was something to see.
Just then, Donna broke away from Richie, who looked terribly disappointed, and she swam in a firm, competent stroke to the opposite side of the pool. She lifted herself over the edge and came dripping chlorinated water to the two women in their lounge chairs. She was gorgeous-high, firm breasts, full, taut thighs.
"Richie and I wish to go next door to our house, Ginger," she said. "May I take him upstairs?"
Ginger pursed her lips and frowned. "I see no reason why not, dear," she said firmly. "But I think you should minimize the fucking. You have been entirely too indulgent with the lad of late and with yourself, too."
"I know that," she said, leering a bit. "I wish to whip him today, Ginger. May I whip him? He is erect now, and he is certain I will permit him to fuck me. It is the perfect time, I think, for a sound thrashing. May I? May I, please?" She jumped up and down excitedly there on the pool deck, pleading. "Please?"
"Very well, dear," Ginger said, nodding. "But keep the sex play to making him kneel and service you orally. I want no penetration of your body with his penis today. Is that understood?"
"Oh, yes, Ginger!" she cried anxiously as she bent down and gave her stepmother a grateful thank you kiss. "No penetration, I promise. Just the whipping and forced sucking of my body."
And then she cupped her hand to her mouth and called, "Richie! Richie! My stepmother says it's all right for us to go next door. Come Richie! Come now! At once!"
Richie quickly pulled himself over the pool's edge and headed through the hedge to the Winters' residence.
"I will not tolerate disobedience in this matter," Ginger whispered to Donna. "In fact, Sheila and I will be at the mirror observing both of you." She spoke in a very low voice, so that Richie could not hear. Keep it dominant, Donna."
"Yes, ma'am," she replied and ran off to join Richie next door.
When the two teenagers had disappeared into the house, Ginger stood up. "Well, shall we go next door to observe, Sheila?" It was a command, not a request.
"Definitely," Sheila replied, and they started slowly toward the gap in the hedge that separated the two houses.
On the back patio, before entering, Ginger said, "I'm quite concerned about Donna's lenient traits of late. I believe she has a soft spot for Richie. There have been entirely too many pleasant sessions between them-for Richie I mean. He'll be ready for the real heartbreak from her soon, as well as the dildo ass-fucking, and I don't like the way Donna is readying him for this test." Sheila nodded. "I couldn't agree with you more," she said. "In fact, I wish she would really put her arm into the spankings. She's entirely too easy. Do you suppose we could witness the first dildoing for Richie? I'd love to see it. I, too, want to see his heart broken. He's been entirely too cocky since he fucked me. I fear I was too giving, perhaps even loving with him. Despite subsequent thrashings and abuse, he seems to believe he's as good as any female."
"Yes, it's possible that we may move up the ass-fucking by Donna. The schedule is not fixed. It's flexible. We'll see. Well, let's see how Donna does today with him. She knows, of course, that we'll be observing today so it should be a fairly adequate punishment. But if I detect one sign of holding back I don't know how I'll react. I will not tolerate an easing off of Richie's punishment. His progress has been too good to tolerate a setback."
"I couldn't agree more," Sheila said. "And to support your view I intend to take far more stern measures in the coming days."
"Good, Pelham," Ginger said, entering while Sheila held the door open for her.
Inside, Ginger held her fingers to her lips. "Quiet," she ordered. "To the mirror. We don't want Richie to hear."
Upstairs, as Sheila and Ginger sat and peered through the special see-through mirror into the enormous upstairs bedroom, it was evident that Donna was off to a quick start. Richie was seated on the bed, naked, and Donna was naked also. She stood, letting Richie suck her very ample bosom. Very soon, Donna put one leg up on the bed and ordered Richie to suck her cunt. She was a stunningly beautiful girl. Her long, red hair hung straight down her back and her pubic patch was dark red also. Now Richie buried his face between her legs and lapped greedily, like a dog.
After a few minutes, Richie tried to force her back on the bed, to eat her in that position, and, also, Sheila guessed, to attempt to fuck her.
"No! Damn it, no!" Donna snarled. "On your back!"
Richie obeyed, and then Donna crawled over his face, straddling him and began riding his face with her anus and cunt. Richie gasped, barely able to breathe, but he continued his gulping and licking of her ass and vagina. Perhaps ten minutes passed, and then Donna stood up and shrieked. "You're no fucking good at sucking a girl's pussy! Can't you do anything, right? Get down on your knees-on the floor!"
Richie got down on the floor, on hands and knees. As he did so, he asked, rather pathetically. "I-I thought we were gonna fuck today."
"Fuck? After the sickening job of eating me you just turned in? No, not today. However, if you do not resist the punishment I have in store for you, there will be fucking later in the week. But resist me and you will never fuck me again, understood? No matter what, you must submit to this punishment."
Richie sighed, still on his hands and knees. "All right, but Donna-I thought you liked me, huh?"
"Liking you has nothing to do with this. Now shut up and stay exactly where you are." Donna went over to the wall-length closet then and returned with a four-pronged leather whip. She spread her feet apart and, taking a full swing, brought the leather tentacles down hard on Riche's back. He winced, emitting a loud whimper. "Donna, please! Ohhh, that hurts...."
"Shut up! If you ever want to fuck me again, shut up and take it. Protest and my cunt is sealed to you forever."
Again, she brought the whip down with all her might, this time across his tender buttocks. She continued that way for several minutes until red welts showed all over Richie's back and buttocks. "Now I am going to surprise you," Donna spat.
"Isn't it too beautiful?" Ginger said to Sheila from their hiding place. "It turns me on like nothing else. The sight of the male animal being abused, beaten-it's the most powerful aphrodisiac I know." Ginger then reached over and began playing with Sheila's breasts, and a moment later her hand dipped between Sheila's legs to stroke her cunt. "Play with my breasts, too," she ordered Sheila. Sheila spread her legs to allow her instructor room to fingerfuck her and they sat there fondling each other and watching the show.
"What does she have in mind now?" Sheila asked.
Ginger said, "It looks as if she plans to use the dildo on him. She's ahead of schedule, but she's a marvelous judge of character. She senses he's ready. Marvelous, yessss." Ginger was actually salivating now, Sheila noticed.
Just as Ginger had guessed, young Donna then fetched an enormous dildo from the wide closet and began strapping it on. Richie glanced at her and protested. Donna immediately raked his buttocks with her fingernails. "Goddamit, I am going to fuck you in the ass, do you hear? This is the most important part of our relationship. You will endure it, or else you will never lay another hand on me. You will be glad if you do not resist. Try to stop me, and I-I'll never speak to you again."
"But it's so-so big. Jesus," Richie said.
Donna ignored him as she knelt down behind him. She held a jar of lubricant in one hand and quickly began greasing up his rectum. Then, without any further preparation whatever, she began inserting the huge leather implement, working it in with a vengeance, while Richie sobbed and writhed in torment.
Just when it seemed that he could bear no more-it was more than half way in-she halted the insertion and bit him hard on the buttocks. He yowled, but remained in position, while she threatened him once again. When he had become docile, she proceeded and quickly rammed the huge artificial cock into his ass-all the way to the hilt.
Richie screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks, but Donna merely said, "It's in now-the worst part is over. You are doing fine. Now hold still, damn you, while I fuck your butt!"
Donna resembled a bronco-riding rodeo performer as she slammed the dildo home. One arm high in the air, she shoved her pelvis in rotating fury, grimacing with each punishing thrust. She even glanced over at the two-way mirror where she knew her stepmother watched. She winked. Then, as Ginger had instructed her, she began masturbating her victim as she continued to drive the enormous shaft in and out of her cringing, weeping prey.
"Bravo! Bravo!" Ginger whispered, grinning proudly, and she stuck her finger all the way into Sheila's gushing cunt. "I want you to suck my cunt as soon as Donna has completed this tour de force," she said. "Donna is superb-a veritable champion!"
"Yes, Ginger," Sheila said, continuing to play with her mistress' erect nipples. "She is far better than I dreamed. I am eager to suck your cunt.
I-I want to do whatever you command."
On and on the brutal spectacle continued, until Richie seemed on the verge of passing out. But each time the pain seemed too much for him to bear, Donna wisely increased her tempo on his dripping erection, adding pleasure and decreasing pain. Then when he seemed about to reach orgasm, she would decrease the pleasure and increase the pain. It was a performance that called for split-second timing and she executed the transitions with remarkable finesse for a sixteen-year-old.
Soon there were two puddles beneath Richie-one beneath his prick and one beneath his mouth. Drool and semen, almost in equal parts-a brilliant testimony to young Donna's expertise.
"Look and learn well, Sheila!" Ginger rasped. "Do you see that? Visible evidence that the girl has demonstrated equal parts of pain and pleasure. The puddles prove it tangibly. This is the most magnificent cowing of a male I have ever witnessed. With the proper audience the girl would rate no less than a standing ovation. It is unbelievable. Bravo! Bravo!" And now Ginger began fingerfucking Sheila very hard, so hard it hurt.
With each slam of her hips, the young red-haired Donna was now very nearly knocking Richie onto the floor. She would rear back on her outstroke, then send crushing hip-blows in rapid succession, each time walking forward a bit so that Richie's face neared the floor. And she smiled a white-toothed leer of victory as she worked, glancing at the peepholes as if seeking praise from her stepmother.
"Notice the length of the boy's erection!" Ginger said admiringly. "See how she manipulates him? My God his prick is at full-length! He's out of his mind with pain, and yet she has managed to keep his cock at the bursting point. Don't you see? Eh? The pain is nearly unbearable but she's got him loving every bloody second of it. Oh, that girl is a wonder-a wonder. I may reward her tonight. I may even let her ass-fuck her father tonight when he gets home. We shall see. She deserves the highest reward imaginable. Bravo! Bravo! She is one of the masters all right. I wish I had this on film for distribution to the others. Damn it, why didn't I guess what she was up to?"
"Look," Sheila said, pumping her own hips as Ginger continued fingering her cunt, "I think he's ready to come now. Look! Look! See his face, and he's shuddering."
Ginger's face brightened fiendishly. "I believe you're right. Yes, there comes his first clump of jizm. See how she manipulated his balls with one hand while not missing a stroke on the firing cock? And all the while not letting up on her strokes to his ass. Oh, this will rate a full ten-the highest possible score! And it's not even on film ... Goddamit! What a pity!"
Richie was in a near-convulsion now as his cockhead pumped come onto the floor. His cries of anguish mixed with hallucinatory pleasure and his howls reverberated throughout the entire house.
"Ahhhhhhhh! Oh, Gaaawwwwwdddddd! STOP IT! I CAN'T STAND ANYMORRREEEE! JESSS-SUSSSSSS! PuuHHHHLLLL-EEEEEEEEEEEE STOP!"
And then he fell flat onto his face and lay twitching and spasming, gasping out the after math of his cataclysmic orgasm. For her audience's benefit, like some Roman gladiator, Donna then stood and straddled her trembling prey who sobbed and moaned in total helplessness. Donna raised her arms above her head victoriously, then reached down and gave the glistening leather dildo a series of backhand swats. The huge instrument wagged back and forth, jiggling the thick belt about her waist. She then moved around to the front of him and, still staring down, bent and lifted his head from the floor by his hair.
"Lick my cunt. Then you may rest without interruption," she commanded. "Lick it NOW !"
Richie's eyeballs rolled but he managed to give her cunt one giant lap, running his swollen tongue from her tailbone to her clit. This accomplished, Donna released his head arrogantly, so that it hit the floor with a thud; then she walked away, unbuckling the dildo and letting it drag behind her, like a matador who has just triumphantly slain a brave bull.
Ginger was beside herself with admiration. She began kicking the wall with her feet to simulate applause. She signalled for Sheila to imitate her, and then the two women kicked for a half-minute while young, red-haired Donna bowed low, smiling and gesturing at the prone and twitching male on the floor.
After a few minutes, Ginger rose from behind the mirror and signalled for Sheila to do the same. Then Ginger pointed at the low couches on the floor behind them. "Strip!" she commanded. "I have decided, in honor of Donna's triumph, to treat you as an equal just for today. I shall not force you to service me. Instead, we shall make love as total equals. Come, Sheila...."
Sheila disrobed in the darkness, leaving her bikini in a pile, just the way Ginger liked it, and then she went and lay down beside the naked Ginger, whose arms raised to greet her. Ginger was far gender than usual, but she was highly stimulated by the performance she had just witnessed. Only a dim, red light illuminated the room. The two women lay side by side, rubbing their erect nipples together and fingering each other's already wet love holes. Then, while Ginger nursed on her lover's nipples, she spread Sheila's legs and moved so that their clitorises made gnashing contact. Finally, after Sheila had sucked on Ginger's nipples for several minutes, both women kneaded each other's breasts as their cunts continued to clash. Their mutual lust rose frantically, and the combined gasps and panting pleas soon had Sheila pumping furiously to attain her orgasm.
She shivered, her entire body tingling, and then-with her usual flawless self-control. Ginger climaxed, reaching the heights at the same time Sheila felt orgasmic current jarring her from head to toe.
A few minutes later, when she had regained her breath, Ginger stood up and dressed, slipping her bikini back on. Sheila imitated her and stood waiting further orders.
"I hate myself for treating you as an equal today," she said flatly. "Sometimes I am astonishingly weak. It will be a long time before I afford you such a luxury again. Now get out of my sight and return tomorrow at noon for further instruction and humiliation." She buried her face in her hands, displaying frustration, something Sheila had not seen in her before.
"What's the matter, Ginger?" Sheila asked. "Is there anything I can do? Anything?"
"No, damn it. Nothing," Ginger said, weeping. "I-I shall be in torment until I am able to duplicate the performance of my stepdaughter. She has set a near impossible task for me. It was a masterpiece! Oh, goddammit! How can I ever hope to equal her. She is a true champion. I have much work to do. My student has surpassed me! Do you understand that? Can you possibly understand my chagrin? Now get out of my sight until tomorrow. Go, stupid! Get out!"
"I don't care whether she gets out or not," the very low and incredibly sad voice said evenly from the shadowed doorway.
It was the voice of Sheila's husband, Mike. Sheila gasped and clamped her hand over mouth in horror as Mike Pelham stepped into the dim red light. "I-I'm not sure I care about anything now." There were tears on Mike's cheeks and something in his voice Sheila had never heard before.
"Stay where you are! Don't come near me," he said. "I have just witnessed the most awful thing imaginable. My own son abused by a-a bunch of degenerates."
"Mike, let me please ex-"
"Shut up! I am going down and get my son. I'm taking him to the car and-and we're leaving. I-I don't know when we'll be back, or if we'll be back. I'm taking him somewhere where it's clean and pure. I'm taking him where we can talk and try to remove the hideous scars you two animals have inflicted upon him. Yes, we're going to the mountains."
"Mike, please take me with you," Sheila pleaded. "Please!"
"Don't come near me. I'll kill you if you do," Mike said, his eyes narrow, his voice low and lethal. "It was one thing to degrade me. Yes, now I know who attacked me that night. It was bad enough to perpetrate such a hideous act on me, but my son...."
His face contorted, and then, unable to utter more, he turned and started for the stairway. "Mike! Mike! Did you see it all?"
"Yes, all of it. When you weren't at home, I came next door. I heard the sounds and-and I came upstairs." He went out then, not stopping as Sheila called frantically after him. She watched then through the mirror as he entered the bedroom, motioned Donna aside with a furious gesture, picked up young Richie's battered body and went down the stairs.
Immediately, Ginger backhanded Sheila hard across the face. "You stupid bitch!" she snarled. "How could you have permitted such a thing? Do you realize what you've done?"
Sheila just stared down at the floor, crushed. The worst of all possible things had happened and she did not know what to say. With tear-filled eyes, she muttered, "He just came home early. I-I didn't know. He just came home early."
"You will pay for this, Sheila. Oh, how you will pay. You have ruined everything and you will pay. I swear to you, you'll pay a thousand times!" Ginger advanced menacingly, then began twisting Sheila's arm, lowering her to the floor.
CHAPTER NINE
The car descended the curving mountain road at a moderate speed, Mike Pelham's strong hands steering capably, surely. It was a far different drive than it had been almost a week ago, when Mike and Richie had driven up this same road in silence and mutual guilt and shared degradation. Fishing, walking in the woods, talking about all the things they hadn't shared in years had created a new and unbreakable bond between them. It had been a time for total honesty, a total clearing of the air, and now all that was behind them.
"Richie," Mike said to his son, "turn down the radio just a bit, would you? I dig the new sounds, but maybe not quite so loud, okay?" He reached out and gave his son's shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
"Sure, dad," Richie said. "Sorry."
The boy turned down the rock music station, grinning, looking with admiration at his father.
"You know," Mike Pelham said, "I've been thinking more and more about Sheila's role in all of this. You and I-well, we just conveniently split the scene and left Sheila there to fend for herself. It's been occurring to me that she's just as much a victim in all of this as we were."
"Huh?" Richie said, frowning.
"When did Sheila ever do an unkind thing before we moved to the new place? I mean, what sort of thing would turn her into a witch? She wouldn't even spank a dog before. Then suddenly she becomes a sadist and the weirdest form of pervert imaginable."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Richie agreed. "It wasn't until she got in the clutches of that Ginger." He shook his head. "It's like Ginger had some kind of strange influence over her. That's right."
Mike nodded. "Exactly. And we've been feeling sorry for ourselves-licking our wounds and thinking of her as some kind of degenerate. It seems to me we did the easy thing. Poor Sheila is still back there with that bunch of freaks."
Richie scowled. "When you put it that way-well, maybe we should have taken her with us."
"That's what I'm thinking," Mike said. "She's the one who has been through hell-a steady bombardment from that fucking sorceress-and we're the ones who walk away and take a vacation. Uh-pardon the language, son," Mike said.
"Your language?" Richie said, grinning. "After all that's happened? The language?"
They both laughed, shaking their heads, the new bond stronger than ever between them. And then a long silence followed.
"Jesus," Richie said, "I wonder how she's doing? You don't suppose-I mean, they wouldn't hurt her, would they?"
Mike's foot was already pressing down hard on the accelerator. "I don't know," he said evenly. "God, what on earth were we thinking of? We didn't even have the sense to telephone her. Oh, Christ!"
Mike glanced at his watch, frowning.
"Do you think we should stop at the first station and call her?" Richie asked.
"At this point, I'm not sure it would make much difference," he said. "I just want to get home as fast as possible."
The car rounded the curve practically on two wheels, but Richie didn't complain. He, too, was staring directly ahead, thinking only of Sheila and wondering how long it would take before they pulled into the familiar driveway at home.
There were several days' newspapers on the front lawn as Mike swerved the car into the driveway and screeched to a halt. Both men jumped out of the car and raced for the front door. Mike turned the key in the front door lock with trembling fingers. Then they both entered, calling.
"Sheila! We're home! Sheila, where are you?"
No answer.
"Richie, check the rear of the house. I'll look in the other rooms and the backyard."
Both of them ran then, calling out again and again, "Sheila! Sheila! Sheila!"
Still no answer.
They met on the back patio by the swimming pool. They stood there for a moment, gasping for breath. Then they both looked at each other and gazed next door at the same instant.
"Come on," Mike yelled at point-blank range. "Next door!"
It was a little before noon, but even though it was Sunday, Mike reasoned somebody should be up and about. He and Richie knocked hard on the rear door, then the front door. Still no answer. They both raced around the Winters' residence, peering in windows, pounding on windows, to no avail.
The drapes were drawn, but Mike had Richie check the garage and the Winters' cars were there. And then Mike halted, straining, tilting his head. He thought he could hear a high-pitched shriek. "Shhh," he cautioned Richie. "Did you hear anything?"
Richie stood, trying to hear also. There was only silence.
Then, suddenly, loud and clear, they both heard a series of shrieking sounds, a high-pitched bark that was unmistakably the voice of Ginger Winters.
"Quick!" Mike yelled at Richie. "Run over and get the pool skimmer. We can use it to break a window. Run! Hurry!"
Richie ran through the hedge and returned seconds later carrying the long aluminum implement. Both men breathed hard as Mike slammed the screen less end at the window. Three jabs and the glass broke. Mike reached in and released the latch of the sliding glass.
Shrieks of anger were coming from upstairs. They took the stairs three at a time and burst into the upstairs bedroom. Even in the semidarkness they could see four naked figures.
The spectacle before them froze them in their tracks. Sheila was spread out on her back on a narrow, padded, body-length couch with her legs apart. Loren Winter's cadaver-like and gray form was trying to fuck her while Ginger lashed him with a multi-tailed whip. Donna had screamed as the two men burst into the room, and now removed her breast from Loren's gasping mouth.
Both Donna and Ginger wore hip-length leather boots with spike heels. Except for the boots they too were stark naked. From the looks of Sheila, the punishment had been going on for days! Grimacing, crying out in anguish, Mike raced across the room, ripped the whip from Ginger's claw-like hand and backhanded her fiercely across the face with the handle. At the same time, Richie gave Donna a shove that sent her crashing against the far wall where metal manacles and other instruments of torture hung in racks.
As soon as the two women had been cast aside, Loren collapsed, muttering, "Food, water ... please ... something to eat ... to drink...."
For the moment, Richie ignored him and joined his father beside Sheila, who was blinking erratically. There were no serious wounds, but her body was covered with red welts and bruises.
"Darling," Mike coaxed. "Can you possibly forgive us? Oh, baby, I had no idea. I didn't realize ... we're here now ... you're going to be all right. We're here and everything is going to be all right."
Richie was kneeling, too, begging his stepmother for forgiveness, telling her he loved her and stroking her head and trying to lift her.
"Easy, Rich," Mike said. "She's been through hell. Let's get her home quick, son. Easy, easy."
Mike left her long enough to pull a drape from the wall, and he draped it Over her nakedness, and then they carried Sheila gently outside and through the hedge to their house.
Stretched out on the couch, Sheila opened her eyes and teared up in gratitude. Her swollen face bunched up as her lips moved to form the words, "C-can you ever forgive me? I-I'm sorry. I-I d-didn't know wha-what she w-was...."
"Of course, we forgive you, honey," Mike said, bending low and gently showering her face with kisses. "Forgive us. We didn't know either. It happened to all of us, darling. Those freaks next door did it to all of us."
"But we know now!" Richie cried. "We drove like hell to get home. Once we realized, we came back to you, Sheila. Forgive us for not coming sooner? Can you, Sheila? Please?"
Sheila's lips moved, but they could not hear the half-formed words her trembling lips struggled to utter. Finally, after much effort, she managed to squeak out, "I-I love y-o-u...."
Just before she passed out, both Richie and his father embraced her, swearing their love and begging her forgiveness again and again.
The FOR SALE sign went up in front of the Winters' residence two days later. Sheila, Mike and Richie Pelham had elected not to call the police. Sheila had remained in bed, waited on hand and foot since her rescue, and Dr. Morley had given her a clean bill of health after a thorough examination. He had even ordered a portable X-ray unit to the house to be certain of no serious injury.
Under threat of calling the police himself, however, Richie and Mike as well as Sheila had tried to explain what had occurred and why they did not wish to press charges. Finally, against his better judgment, he had agreed to maintain their secret.
One week to the day following Sheila's rescue, the Winters began moving out. The big moving van arrived at the Winters' driveway on Sunday morning at ten and the uniformed men began hauling out the strange, dark furniture and loading it carefully into the awkward-looking vehicle.
It seemed odd to all who gazed at the operation that Loren Winters assisted the movers while Ginger and Donna Winters acted as foreman-supervisors, really. Thin and gasping, Loren worked tirelessly under burden after burden while the two leather-booted females drove him without mercy. They barked commands, would not permit him to stop to rest even when the moving men took breaks. When finally he collapsed in the morning sun and the two women began kicking him with the toes of their boots, even the workmen had had enough. There was a hasty conference, and then the uniformed men carried Loren Winters into the house.
Soon, there emerged Ginger and Donna Winters, carrying huge armloads of household utensils-mops, brooms, vacuum cleaners, all the implements they had forced Loren Winters to use in his cleaning and cooking for the household. While the men watched, and Loren recovered on the lawn, Ginger and Donna made trip after trip after trip, perspiring, cursing, stumbling repeatedly, struggling to their feet only to stumble again-then repeating the procedure over and over.
Neighbors who watched in gatherings up and down the block broke into spontaneous applause. They, too, had finally witnessed the mistreatment of poor Loren Winters by the two arrogant females, and they reveled in the correction of gross injustice.
Grinning, but with eyes that were deadly serious, Mike Pelham placed his arm about his wife's shoulder as the three of them watched from the window. The van was fully loaded now and the j afternoon shadows lengthened throughout the neighborhood.
"No revenge would be enough," he said, "but I guess it was better than we figured."
Sheila looked up into her husband's eyes. His strong arm felt good about her, and she knew it belonged there always. She loved him all the more because of his capacity for understanding. Forgiveness had come, on all their parts, but it was his capacity for understanding that had truly deepened her love for him. And Richie's, too.
Richie moved closer, too, and the three of them stood looking at the loaded van. Finally, it drove off, and all the bystanders went back to their houses, glad to be rid of the family that worshipped pain.
Mike gave his wife an affectionate pat on the fanny and, jumping, Sheila said, "Michael, dear, if you don't mind I'd rather we didn't pat each other on the behind for a while-like let's say for a couple of hundred years."
Mike shook his head apologetically, then burst into laughter. "No, I don't think I want any object, animate or otherwise, coming anywhere near my backside for at least a century or two. How about you Richie?"
Richie didn't even bother to answer. He just slipped his arms about his father's and stepmother's waists and gazed admiringly back and forth between the two of them.
