There are women in the world who love to torture other women, and there are women who accept the torture when it comes from another female.
In this book, you will read stories about one such torturing female, a woman named Marsha, who makes her living beating women and who finds her pleasure in beating them also.
In one story, you will read about Marsha's initiation into the world of sadistic lesbianism, an initiation she shares with the teen-aged girl who lives next door to her.
In another, you will follow Marsha as she trains a secretary so that the girl can endure the pain that her boss-lover Wants to give her.
And, in what is perhaps the most shocking story, you will follow Marsha as she trains a daughter to be a high-classed dominatrix, a daughter who uses her own mother as a victim in her practice sessions. ft
There are women like Marsha in the world, perhaps more of them than anyone cares to admit. Her stories are, in ways, universal stories, because, beneath the sadism, beneath the lesbian torture and brutality, there is a human soul, a human spirit trapped in the world of pleasure and pain.
Her stories may be much like stories you could tell yourself.
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
Marsha was sixteen years old. She was blonde and pretty and her tits were already nice and large. Men looked at her with lust in their eyes when they saw her walking down the street. She liked that. She thought that that gave her some kind of control over those men, some kind of control that very few other girls had.
One more thing about Marsha: she would do anything. At sixteen, she was used to fucking girls. In fact, she had grown a little jaded. Traditional fucking seemed so old-fashioned to her. Sure, once in a while she would find some guy who was particularly good, who could ride her for hours at a time, who had some special little move that sent her spirit soaring as she came. But most of the guys were too average. One was usually like all the others.
So, that summer day, as she lay in her back yard in her bikini, taking in the rays of the sun and feeling her skin grow warm and passionate, she tried to think up something new, something that would put a new zest into her life.
When she thought about sex, Marsha always became a little sleepy. Those warm emotions gave her a nice feeling in her body and the sun added to that feeling. She rolled over on her back and closed her eyes and felt the sun beating down on her, turning her a golden tan. She liked to be tanned in the summertime. She only wished that she was able to sunbathe in the nude. Those little white streaks that were left by her bikini, she thought, looked ugly and silly.
But she knew that some men liked those streaks. There was no way to figure out what some men would like, she thought in a lazy way.
She lay there on the ground and let her mind roam. She thought about the men she had known and her consciousness scampered back in time to just a few months before when she had discovered something about sex, when she had discovered that she liked it.
She had been almost fifteen at that time.
Her parents did not care if she dated guys. In fact, her parents did not seem to care about anything. So she went out with boys who were seniors in high school, with boys who were seventeen and even eighteen, and she kissed them and let them feel her budding tits. She enjoyed those moments with guys when they were close together in the dark of the night. She felt that the night was soft and somehow safe. Marsha had that strange idea: nothing could really harm her as long as she worked in the dark. The sun was warm but the night protected her.
And it had been late one night-actually early one morning-when she had first experienced sex.
She had been wanting to fuck for a long time, and she had been thinking about fucking the guy she had been dating regularly for the past few weeks, a guy named Jimmy. When she finally worked up the courage that night and asked him if he would like to do it with her, Jimmy had been shocked. She was surprised at that, because Jimmy was seventeen years old. Marsha had just naturally assumed that Jimmy would have fucked some girl by that age.
But she had been wrong. Jimmy was a prude.
He had kissed her and played with her tits and he had even sucked on those tits, but he told her frankly that he did not want to fuck her.
"Causes too many problems, Marsha," he explained, shaking his head. "Ain't worth it. I want to go to college and make something out of myself."
Marsha had been confused. She did not understand how a little sex would keep Jimmy out of college and she touched his face when she asked him to explain to her the connection.
"What does college have to do with it?" she said. "I mean, you can still go to college."
"Maybe," he said softly, "but you can never tell. What if you get pregnant? What if this thing causes some sort of strange thing to pass between us? What if we fall in love or something like that? Then I would have to marry you and support you and I would not be able to concentrate on my college studies, even if I could scrape up enough money to go."
Then he repeated his final conclusion about the whole question.
"It just ain't worth it," he said.
That had hurt Marsha. She liked to think that she was worth anything, and she knew that there were many boys who thought that she was worth a great deal, but Jimmy, that idiot, thought more of college that he did of her pussy.
She hated Jimmy at that moment, hated him more than she had ever hated any other person in her life.
Later, after he took her home, she stood in her front yard and looked at Jimmy driving away and she knew that she did not want to see that guy ever again. If he did not want to fuck her, she thought, she would find someone who would.
There was no longer lust in her heart. In the place of the lust, there was a wild, girlish revenge.
It was after midnight, and Marsha knew that her parents would already be asleep. She stood there in the front yard and tried to think of one boy that she would be able to find at this hour, one boy who would fuck her and fuck her until the sun came up.
And then she thought of Bob.
She smiled. Bob was Jimmy's best friend. They ran around together and Marsha had even double-dated with Jimmy and Bob and some girl named Delores that Bob took out every once in a while.
But Bob was not like Jimmy. Marsha knew that he was no prude. She had often noticed the best friend of her regular guy staring at her just like the men on the street stared at her. She knew that she could get Bob if she wanted him. And she wanted him on this night. And one more thing made the plan very nice for Marsha: Bob only lived a few blocks from her house.
She wondered if he would be home at this hour.
With a firm, girlish resolve in her heart, Marsha started to walk toward Bob's house. As she walked, she tried to figure out how she would approach him even if he was at home. Should she just explain to him that she was still a virgin, and, since Jimmy would not fuck her, she wanted Bob to do it? Perhaps that would be the best way, she decided. The truth was always one option that made sense to Marsha. She did not lie when she did not have to.
She and Jimmy had once gone to a party at Bob's house, and Marsha knew that Bob slept in the renovated basement of the house. She knew that there was a side door that opened to some steps that led down to the basement. She knew all of these things, and she knew too that Bob often s sneaked girls into the house late at night by using that side door.
Then she stopped and stood still on the dark sidewalk in the pretty, residential area of the town where she had lived all of her life. She suddenly thought of another question that had not occurred to her before.
What if Bob already had a girl down there with him? It was late, and it was Saturday night. That would be the night that a stud like Bob would use for his little, basement adventures.
Marsha thought about it for a moment and she almost turned around and walked back to her own house. But something in. her would not allow her to give up so easily. Something in her drove her on to the house where she hoped that she would be fucked during these early morning hours.
When she got to the house, she walked softly around to the side door that led to the basement bedroom of the stud friend of her prude boyfriend. All kinds of things ran through her head at that moment. The house was dark. She knew that Bob's parents were asleep, but was Bob asleep? Was he home? Was she down there with another girl? She stood at that door and asked herself all of those questions, and she did not know any of the answers.
But then she thought about Jimmy, the guy who had turned her down, who had hurt her so deeply that night. She wanted her revenge, and she was determined to get it if she could. She would not allow anything to stand in her way.
The young girl was almost ready to knock on the door when she heard footsteps coming up from the basement. Marsha scurried out of the way and hid behind some bushes.
The door opened, and, in the moonlight, she saw Bob and a woman come out of the basement. She was shocked. The woman was Mrs. Fletcher, the young housewife who lived down the street from Bob and his parents. She kissed Bob and the boy put his arms around her and held her for a longest time.
'Thank you," the woman muttered. "Thank you for everything."
Marsha fought hard to keep from gasping. She understood what Mrs. Fletcher was thanking the young man for. Bob had obviously fucked her that night in that basement apartment. The girl behind the bush looked closely at the young housewife. She had to admit that she did not blame Bob for wanting to fuck this woman. Mrs. Fletcher had nice, full tits and she was very pretty, although she seemed very old to Marsha. Marsha knew, that, the woman was probably at least twenty-five.
Why would Bob want her when he could have any teen-aged girl that he wanted? Marsha suddenly felt a great deal of hatred for this young woman. She wanted to run from behind the bush and start slapping the woman and screaming at her. She wanted to yell at the woman and ask her why she wanted to fuck somebody like Bob. Why didn't she fuck some man her own age?
Marsha felt very sorry for herself in her girlish way. She felt her spirit sink as she thought that Bob would not be able to fuck her this night. The woman had already tired him out, she thought. This housewife had ruined her revenge on Jimmy.
The young girl had never felt such conflicting emotions before. As she looked at the pretty woman walking away from the basement door, she thought of how nice she looked and how well she probably fucked, but she also hated her for spoiling everything. Why did she have to come over and visit Bob on this night, of all nights? Marsha sighed and sniffed the tears that were flowing down her pretty face.
Bob obviously heard that sound. He looked toward the bushes and he started to walk toward Marsha. She had been caught! She wanted to run, but that would only make things worse. Marsha felt like the biggest fool in the world at that moment, as Bob looked over the bush and smiled down at her.
"Hi," he said softly. "What are you doing here, Marsha?"
Again, the girl remembered that the truth was the best thing. She looked up at Bob and she spoke the truth.
"I came her so that you could fuck me," she said softly, feeling the tears burning her face, "but now I guess that you won't be able to. I guess that I will just go home."
She was kneeling behind that bush. Bob laughed with a short, soft chuckle and reached up and helped her to stand up.
"You won't tell anybody about her, will you, Marsha?" he asked.
The girl wanted to tell someone about the housewife. She wanted to get her revenge on Mrs. Fletcher that way, but then she decided that that revenge was not very important. She did not want to get Bob angry at her. She knew that he could fuck her some other night, maybe, and her revenge on Jimmy was much more important than her revenge on a poor, sexy housewife.
"I won't tell anyone," she said.
"Good," Bob said. He looked back at the open door.
"Why don't you come in and talk to me for a while," he said.
Marsha looked at the open door too. She did not understand why Bob was inviting her in. It would not do any good, she thought. He would not be able to fuck her that night. But then she suddenly thought that maybe Bob still had enough in him to fuck her after all. She looked at him and she smiled. He did look very sexy.
Bob was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. His feet were bare. He was thin but muscled and his body was always taut like a wire. She had seen Bob with his shirt off a couple of times and the sight of that muscled chest had given her a nice warm feeling in her panties. She wanted to go into the basement bedroom with Bob, but she did not know if it would do any good. Again, she knew that she would have 'to tell the young man the truth about her emotions and her questions at that moment. She could show no shame to Bob, not if she really wanted him to give her a good fucking that would start her life anew and get her revenge on Jimmy at the same time.
"If I came in," she asked, "do you think that you would be able to fuck me?"
Bob laughed again.
"Sure," he said. "I did not do that with Mrs. Fletcher."
"What?"
Marsha was even more confused at that moment. If he had not fucked the housewife, why had she kissed him so passionately, why had she thanked him in that tone of voice?
She wanted to know the whole story, and she knew that Bob would probably tell her if she went into the basement bedroom with him. She held his hand as they walked silently toward the open door.
They went down the steps slowly. It was dark and Marsha had trouble making her way down the steps. She was afraid that she would stumble, and then she felt that she was not afraid at all. After all, she reasoned, the darkness would protect her. And she knew that Bob would catch her if she fell.
When they got into the basement bedroom, Bob turned on a light. Marsha looked around the room and her eyes fell on the bed that was in the center of the room. It looked huge, and it was very neat . The sheets were pulled tightly over the bed. Maybe Bob had not fucked Mrs. Fletcher, she thought. She could not imagine the two of them making the bed up after they fucked at this time of night.
But everything still confused the young girl a great deal. She finally turned to Bob and keeping her honesty she asked him the question that was bothering her.
"What did you and Mrs. Fletcher do down here?"
Bob chuckled again and moved toward the bed. He sat down on the edge of the soft, big thing and he smiled at the young girl. Bob must think that she was very stupid, Marsha suddenly thought, feeling her face turn red with a blush as that idea came to her. He must think that she was the most immature thing in the world.
But Bob did not act like he thought that. He reached out and took her hands and pulled her to him and let Marsha sit in his lap. She liked that. Bob was only seventeen, but she liked the idea that he was playing the role of Daddy at that moment. After all, she thought, he was going to fuck her and make her into a real woman.
Bob put his arms around Marsha's waist and she put her arms around his neck. They smiled at each other and they kissed each other. Suddenly, all thoughts of Mrs. Fletcher and Jimmy flew from Marsha's brain. Bob's kiss was so passionate and so warm. She had never been kissed like that before, and she knew that Bob would fuck her. He had promised to do that. The knowledge that that fucking was coming made the teen-ager feel even more lusty as she opened her mouth and let Bob move his tongue into her, as she ran one of her hands through Bob's dark hair and felt one of his hands move over her young, soft, excited tit. N
When the kiss was over, she knew that the fucking was coming, but there was something that had to be settled in her head before she could really enjoy the experience. She whispered in Bob's ear playfully.
"What was Mrs. Fletcher doing here?"
Then Bob told her a story that changed her life in a very special way.
"She has this weird thing that she does not want her husband to know about," he said in a whisper. "But she doesn't mind if I know about it because I go along with it. She-likes to come over here late at night. She takes off all her clothes and sits on the floor of the room and I curse her."
"You what?"
"I curse her. I call her names and she plays with herself and then she comes. After she comes, she goes home."
"Why would any woman want to do that?"
"People are very strange late at night, Marsha," Bob said with a nod. "I have learned that, and I am sure that you will learn that too."
Marsha thought about what Bob had just said, and she wondered about all the people that she knew. What did they do late at night when they were protected by the darkness?
She thought about the people who taught at the high school and the other students and Jimmy and her parents. What did her mother and father do late at night? Did her father curse her mother while the woman played with herself? Marsha doubted it. She knew that her parents rarely spoke to each other any longer.
"Tell me more, Bob," she said with girlish excitement. 'Tell me more about what you have learned about people."
She wanted to know all of the truth on this night. She wanted this night to be one of complete education for her, and besides the story that Bob had told her had turned her on. She wanted to hear more stories, stories guaranteed to make her pussy wet with desire.
"Well," the young man, feeling Marsha's tit absent-mindedly as he thought about what he had learned, about what he could teach this sexy girl who sat in his lap, "I can tell you about Jimmy."
"Jimmy," the girl said. She would have screamed exept for the knowledge that she had to keep very quiet. She and Bob could not afford to wake his parents. Then she leaned in close to Bob. "Tell me about Jimmy," she whispered. "What strange things does he do late "at night."
"You have met his sister, right?" Bob asked.
"Yes."
Jimmy's sister was Claudia and she was a pretty, blonde girl who had gone away to college. She came home for holidays and for the summer.
"Jimmy,-likes to tell me about the things that he and Claudia do when she comes home from college," Bob said. "He says that Claudialikes it when he watches her fuck."
"What?"
"Claudia fucks this guy here in town. The guy is married, but he is always open for Claudia when she calls him. During the summer, she brings the guy over to the house while her parents are at work and she fucks him in her bedroom and Jimmy sits in the closet and watches them. It turns Claudia on to know that Jimmy is watching her do it with that guy."
Marsha did not say anything for a long time. She tried to visualize what Jimmy looked like, hunched in the closet.
Bob helped her to see it when he added some more information.
"Claudia bored a hole in the closet door so that Jimmy could look through it and watch her."
Jimmy watched through a hole in the door, sitting there, surrounded by his sister's clothes in her closet. The idea was too much for Marsha. She could not even begin to comprehend the image that came into her head. It confused her even more. If Jimmy was willing to watch his sister fuck some guy, why wasn't he willing to fuck her? Again, she asked Bob her question. He seemed to have all the knowledge on this night, she thought, all the answers to all the things that bothered her.
"Why wouldn't Jimmy fuck me?" she asked.
"I am not sure, really," Bob said, "but I have a theory. He probably gave you some song-and-dance about going to college, didn't he?"
Marsha nodded her head. "Well, that thing does not make sense, does it?"
Again, the girl agreed with Bob with a silent move of her pretty head.
"I think that Jimmy does not fuck girls because he has some secret lust for his own sister. I mean, it would be natural for him to have that kind of feeling toward Claudia. He has seen her fuck. I think he wants to fuck her too, but Tie is too frightened to admit it-even to himself. So he just refuses to fuck any girl, even a sexy, little thing like you, Marsha."
As Bob said those last words, he pulled the blonde toward him and kissed her again. Marsha knew that he was tired of talking to her, tired of teaching, her all of the secret things that he knew.
And she was tired of learning too. She wanted to get the fucking, the real learning started.
As they kissed, Bob fell back on the bed and Marsha tumbled with him. They rolled on the bed and kissed and Marsha felt the hardness in Bob's jeans as he moved his body close to hers.
She sighed when she felt that hardness. To her, it seemed like a very important feeling, perhaps the most important in her life.
Marsha was wearing a little, blue blouse that night. She had dressed very nicely for her date with Jimmy, and it had not done her any good. When Bob began to open that blouse with his experienced fingers, the blonde girl thought that she was finally going to do it. She was finally going to fuck a boy and make her life mean something. And she was happy that it was Bob who was touching her and unbuttoning her blouse. This young man, who was still a high school student and teen-ager himself, seemed to know so much. He had experienced so much. Marsha knew that she had found the right teacher for her sexual education.
When Bob had unbuttoned her blouse, Marsha sat up on the bed and let him help her take the blouse off. Her skin was tingling with nervous excitement and she could feel the muscles in her body going wild as she shivered and shook with passionate emotion. She was not really afraid, she thought. She was just anxious. She wanted to get this fucking started, for she longed to find out how it would feel to have a man's cock inside her pussy.
Bob reached around her and quickly unsnapped her little white bra. She took that bra off and she sat there on the bed, feeling very proud of her budding breasts. Bob's smile made her even more proud of them. She knew that she was pleasing him with the way that she looked and he would return that pleasure by giving her a good and sexy fucking.
The young man put his hands on her tits and Marsha closed her eyes and gasped. She had never been touched like that before. She had never had a man's hands planted directly on her breasts with such softness and yet such masculine hardness too. Without even thinking about it, she reached out and ran her girlish hand over his crotch and felt his hardening cock.
She suspected something and she looked at Bob and asked him another question.
"You are not wearing any shorts, are you?" she asked.
"No," he said with a smile.
She smiled too and she moved her hand over his crotch again. His cock was so big and so hard, she thought. It made her feel like something was already invading her, some fire that warmed her and made her want even more fire in her system.
Marsha lay back on the bed and kicked her little shoes off. She was just wearing a little skirt and her panties then and she suddenly wanted to be naked, to be completely free in front of Bob. He had probably seen a lot of naked girls before, she thought, but he would want to see her naked too. She wanted to make this experience memorable for the stud who knew so much. She wanted to make it as memorable for him as it was for her.
She murmured to him.
"I am a virgin, Bob. I have never done anything like this before. But I want to do it all tonight, Bob. I want you to show me how to do it all."
The masculine boy chuckled again.
"Well, I don't think we can do. it all, Marsha, not tonight. But we will do a lot of it, I assure you."
Bob looked down at her girlish tits and then he pulled his T-shirt off with a steady, male movement.
When his chest was bare, Marsha reached out and touched it and felt those nice muscles once again. She pulled him down to her and that feeling of skin against skin, his bare chest against her soft, naked tits excited her even more. He kissed her face with wet, little smacks and thrilled her as he muttered to her.
"We will do a lot tonight, Marsha."
He ran his hand down her body and moved his hand inside her skirt. She wanted to get that skirt off. She wanted to get rid of all the obstructions between her and Bob. She loosened the little thing and unzipped and then taised her hips up from the bed as Bob pulled the thing smoothly down her legs.
Then she was just in her panties, her white panties. She glanced down and she noticed the wetness that stained that white material. Bob noticed it too and that wetness made him smile.
"Okay, Marsha," he said softly, "get ready for the big stuff."
He slipped his fingers inside her panties and raa those fingers through her soft pussy hair. The girl gasped with that touch. She had played with herself many times, usually thinking about how it would feel if Jimmy put his hand there, but this was more exciting than playing with herself. She did not know what Bob was going to do next, and the tension and the passion that filled her as she waited for his fingers to move again made her want him all the more. She was again glad that she had not fucked Jimmy. Jimmy, who watched his own sister fuck men, would not be this good, she thought. Bob was a youthful, muscled expert, and she liked the feeling that he was giving her.
When Marsha lifted her hips, Bob took those panties off her with a smooth motion of his hands. She knew that he was used to pulling panties off women. When her legs were free, when she was totally naked, she felt a freedom that she had never felt before in her life. She spread her legs open and took Bob's hand and placed it directly on her pussy.
"Do it for me," she muttered.
And Bob knew just what to do.
He ran one finger around the lips of her pussy and felt the wetness there. The finger was thrilling to the girl and she sighed as she felt it moving down there. Then Bob opened her pussy lips with a soft motion and Marsha felt the air go inside her. It was cold but it was also exciting and she knew that Bob would really open her up before this night was over. He would open her up in a way that she would never be able to be opened again. He would take her virginity with his cock and he would prepare her for a lifetime of fucking and fun.
When Bob pulled his hand away from her pussy, Marsha opened her eyes and realized that she was already naked, but Bob still had his jeans on. He opened those jeans and pushed them down and lifted his legs and pulled them off. Then he was naked too.
Marsha looked at the cock that sprang out from his body when he was naked. It looked so full and so male. She had never seen a cock before, but she was sure that this would be one of the best ones in the world. It had to be. Bob was so experienced.
Then Bob spoke softly to her.
"Marsha, you have to do what I tell you to do if you are going to learn everything that you can about sex. You have do it and have fun with it. I would not tell you to do anything that would not be fun and normal. Do you trust me, Marsha?"
The girl kept her eyes on the prick and nodded her head. She did trust Bob. She knew that he would teach her well with that piece of meat.
Hesitantly, she moved her hand down his naked body and felt his muscles. She was headed for that prick. Both of them knew that. They both knew that she wanted to touch the prick, but she also knew that this touch would be very special. It would be the first real touch of a man. After this, everything else would just be repetition, she thought.
She closed her hand around the sturdy cock and sighed.
Bob smiled at her. He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the mouth.
"Your hand feels good, Marsha," he whispered to her.
"Your cock feels good too," she said.
She moved her hand back and forth on the rod and felt it quiver under her touch.
She liked knowing that she was making the prick respond to her with her touch. She opened her hand and looked down at the meat. It was beautiful and powerful and she wondered if it was ready to go into her pussy.
Marsha looked back at Bob, and he seemed to read her mind. He shook his head slowly.
"Not yet," he said, "but I will be ready after you suck on it for a few seconds."
Suck on it? Marsha had never heard of any girl doing that. She reasoned that this was just one of those secrets that people had about what they did in the dark. She looked at the cock. It did look strangely sweet to her, and she wanted to please Bob. She remembered that she had promised to do what he told her to do. She remembered that he had promised not to tell her to do something that was not fun. She nodded her head and resolved to suck his big pole. She pushed him back on the bed with her hand and started to kiss his muscled, hairless chest. She wanted to take her time getting to his cock. She remembered that she had run her hand down his chest and stomach before that first touch of his pole and she knew that that had made that first touch even better arid more exciting. Again, she would work her way down his body, and Bob did not seem to mind. She seemed to be doing the right thing.
Marsha decided to listen to the knowledge that came to her from deep in her mind, the knowledge that every girl has stored in her if she would only listen. She knew that her intuition would not lead her astray.
The girl moved down his body, kissing his chest. She stuck out her little tongue and ran it around his nipple. She knew that she liked it when a boy did that to her, and she could tell by the way that Bob sighed when she did it to him that He liked it too. She remembered then that Jimmy had sucked on her nipples several times, but he had not done the ultimate thing. That damned Jimmy, she thought. She wanted to make this experience great for Bob. That would be part of her revenge on her boyfriend.
She kissed his boyish nipple and then she moved to the other side of his chest and kissed the other nipple. She glanced back and saw the trail of spittle that she had left on his chest, running from one pink spot to the next. She liked that trail. She stuck out her tongue and moved further down his body and licked his stomach with a warm, wetness She ran her tongue into his navel and she felt Bob jerk. She did it again and he jerked again. Then she tried one more thing, a thing that her girlish intuition told her would work with that young man.
She blew into the navel and Bob gasped and pressed his hand to the back of her head. He pushed her down to his little hole and she blew in it again and again.
"That is incredible," he murmured to her as he held her down there. "No girl has ever done that to me before."
Marsha had to smile with her own pride. She had given Bob something new too, just as he was giving her all of these new things. She knew then that she and Bob were equals in a special way.
She left his navel and kissed and licked her way into his soft cock-hair. The hair was dark and she licked the feel of it on her wet, excited tongue. The hair also smelled very clean. In fact, all of Bob smelled clean and strangely pure. She liked that aroma of clean masculinity that came up from him.
And then she could delay it no longer. She reached down and held his stiffening cock steady and kissed the tip of that piece. She ran her quick tongue over the piss slit in the end of the cock and tasted the sweet fluid that was already there, and she felt Bob jerk again. She knew that she was thrilling him, and she knew that she would continue to thrill him if she could only keep listening to that stiff voice that spoke to her from deep in her feminine brain. That voice would not do her wrong.
And that voice told her to look up at Bob and speak to him and let him know just how lustful she was at that very moment.
She did look up and she smiled as she said those dirty words that felt so good when they came from her lips.
"Your cock is beautiful," she said softly. "I know that I am going to love sucking on it. I know that I am going to love the way that it tastes and the way that it will grow in my mouth. Then, when it has grown enough and hardened enough, I am going to love it when you shove that prick into my pussy and start fucking me for the first time in my life. This cock will be the most important one I will have in my life."
Bob smiled down at her. He.opened his mouth to speak but all that came from his lips was a guttural sound of passion. She knew that her feminine voice had given her good advice again. She knew that she was exciting Bob very much.
And Marsha also knew that every dirty word that she had said to Bob was true. This cock was going to be the most important cock in her life, and it did seem sweet and natural that she would suck on it and then let it come into her virgin cunt. Everything seemed very natural in that basement bedroom in those early morning hours.
Marsha opened her lips and slowly lowered her head over the tip of the prick. Then she closed her lips tightly around the cockhead and felt the quivering meat in her. He was sweet! She ran her tongue over the rose head of the member and she tasted some more of that fluid in her mouth.
"Go up and down on it," Bob murmured with passion.
She followed his orders, for they were also the orders that that feminine part of her brain had given her. She began to bob up and down on the prick, pressing her lips around it and feeling her soft lips battle the hardening power of his manhood. She sucked with delight. She found herself thinking that this was fun, more fun than kissing or having her tits sucked. For the first time in her life, Marsha felt like a real woman as she bobbed up and down on the cock.
Then she felt Bob's hand on her head, his fingers running through her soft, blonde hair, and she knew that he had had enough of the sucking. She knew that he was now ready to fuck. His touch and that feminine voice told her all of this within a second. She pulled off his cock and kissed it one last time.
The teen-aged girl moved up on the bed and lay down and spread her legs. She murmured to Bob with a voice as soft as the night that surrounded the house.
"Fuck me, you handsome stud."
Bob smiled as he moved toward her. He pulled her toward him and kissed her passionately and they rolled on the bed, rocking back and forth as Bob lifted her leg over his thigh. Her pussy was open then. It was open and juicy and yearning for his cock.
Gently, the young man slid the meat into her. Then he made a forceful thrust and broke through her virginal wall. She felt the tingling shock run through her and then she started to kiss his face and thank him in a soft voice.
"Oh, thank you, Bob. Thank you. You have made me a woman. Now fuck me. Fuck me hard. I want to be fucked like a woman should be fucked by a man."
He responded to her words by moving the prick deeper into her well of honey and then began to move with a rhythm, pulling his cock back and then pressing his body closer to her as they lay there, joined together by adult experience, she thought. The pleasure of the cock running in and out of her pussy gave her a special warm feeling. She could feel her cunt open to make room for his huge ramming tool and she felt that tool rub against her girlish clit as it moved in and out of her. They were so close together, she thought, closer than she had ever been with any other male. But Marsha loved that closeness, loved the way that her body felt when it was pressed against Bob's, and she knew that she would have to feel more of this closeness with more men. With this first experience, her mind was made up. She was going to spend most of her life fucking and being fucked. She wanted to experience this close feeling a million times before she was dead.
She remembered that resolution in her girlish soul on this hot afternoon, as she lay there and lazily looked up into the sun. Then she turned over and felt the warm rays fall on her back.
Marsha still fucked Bob from time to time, and he was still one of her favorite men. But she had others, so many others that now she longed for something different, something special as that first time with Bob had been special.
She chuckled to herself as she remembered Jimmy's reaction.
The revenge would have not been complete if she had not told the boyfriend that she had fucked Bob on that night. At first, she had also planned to tell Jimmy that she knew about him and his sister, about his secret desires and his secret experiences, but then she decided that she did not want to get Bob in trouble with his best friend. So she just said that she had gone over to Bob's house and fucked him.
She told Jimmy that the next day, when he came over to pick her up for their date.
She had sat in the car in front of her house and told him that she had fucked Bob and that he had been a great fuck, a wonderful fuck.
Jimmy had turned very white and then he had asked her to get out of the car.
He never went out with Marsha again.
But she did not mind that. She had other boys who wanted to go out with her and she started fucking them all, fucking them in cars and on the ground and in bedrooms, fucking them in stolen hours that meant a great deal to her at first and then became very sour for her, very boring.
Now, at sixteen, she was terribly bored.
She lay in the sun and thought about how bored she was and then she heard a girl's voice.
"Hi, Marsha," the voice said, "can I join you."
She opened her eyes and saw Peg, the teen-ager who lived next door. She was standing over Marsha in her own bikini and she looked very sexy with her slim body and her red hair. Peg was sixteen too, and she and Marsha knew each other, although Marsha could not say that she and Peg were really good friends. She had been too busy with guys during the past few months to make friends with girls.
But now the blonde smiled at Peg.
"It is sort of lonely when you sunbathe by yourself," Peg said, explaining why she had come over. "I saw you over here and I thought that maybe-"
"Sure," Marsha said.
Peg spread a blanket on the ground and sat down on it. She handed Marsha a tube of tanning lotion.
"Could you rub my back?"
"I would be happy to."
The blonde sat up and took the lotion from her next door neighbor. As she began to rub that lotion into Peg's soft back, she started to think that she had been very foolish not to make friends with this sexy, little redhead. She felt her neighbor's softness and she suddenly thought of a way to ease the bored feelings in her own body. She smiled and she spoke softly to her new friend.
"Tell me, Peg," she said, "what is new with you."
"Oh, things have been pretty bad, Marsha," the girl said. "I just broke up with my boyfriend. You know David, don't you? David Weir?"
"Yes," Marsha said.
"Well, he and I dated for a few months but then we decided that it just was not working out. I have been sort of lonely the past couple of weeks."
Marsha smiled. She knew that the girl was ripe and ready, and she knew that she was not going to be bored any longer.
PART TWO
As the summer wore on, Marsha started talking to Peg more often, and soon the conversations took a good turn. like all teen-aged girls, when they thought of themselves as friends, they started to talk about boys and sex. When Peg began to discuss that subject one afternoon as she lay in the back yard with Marsha, the blonde knew that the redhead would soon be ready for some really wonderful experiences.
"David and I were fucking, of course," the redhead said suddenly one hot afternoon.
"Really?" Marsha said with a grin as she lay there on her stomach looking at her new friend. "Was he good?"
"I guess so," Peg said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I don't really know for sure because I have only fucked one other guy and that was George Gleason. He was drunk that night and he almost threw up all over me."
Marsha had to giggle. She knew George Gleason too, a fat little guy who was always talking about astronomy and stuff like that. She had never even wanted to fuck him, and that was very strange. Marsha would fuck anybody usually. Now she was glad that she had never spent any time with George Gleason.
"But David was nice," Peg said thoughtfully, "real nice. He took his time with me and he made me want it just as badly as he did." She sighed. "But that is all over now."
"I guess you miss the feeling that the fucking gave you," Marsha volunteered, "especially if it was good fucking."
Peg blushed.
"Yes, I do," she admitted. "Why don't you go out with some other guy?" the blonde asked.
As she waited for an answer, she looked over the redhead's body again. This girl should have no trouble finding a guy to fuck her, she thought This girl was very sexy and cute.
But Peg just shrugged her shoulders.
"I don't know why I don't go out with some other guy," she said. "A couple of them have called me and everything. But I told them that I was busy. I think that I want to make sure that the next guy is at least as good as David before I fuck him. It would be a real bummer if I was stuck with some George Gleason type again. It would depress me more than being alone and unfucked."
Marsha nodded her head. She understood.
"Maybe I could fix you up with some guy," she said. "Maybe I could introduce you to some guy who has fucked me and fucked me well."
She was already thinking of a candidate. Bob, her first and her best. He was game for anything and he would certainly go along with the plan that was forming in Marsha's blonde head.
"Would you like for me to introduce you to some guy?" the blonde asked again.
"I don't know," Peg muttered. "It would be nice and everything, but I would feel a little self-conscious knowing that this guy expected to fuck me and I expected to fuck him. I mean, it would be strange, wouldn't it?"
Marsha tried to understand what the girl was talking about, but she really could not. She expected that Peg was just stalling out of fear. She knew that she never worried that some guy expected to fuck her. She liked that because then she could tease him a little bit before they really got down to the fucking. After a few months of hot sexual experience, the teen-ager liked to tease guys a lot. Sometimes, that was the main joy that she got out of fucking them.
Then she suggested something else, something that worked right into her plan.
"I know this guy," she said softly, "and you know him too. I can tell you that this stud is such a good fuck that he could take both of us on at the same time."
Peg sat up with surprise. She realized what her friend was suggesting, but she did not want to admit it right away.
"Both of us?" she asked. "No guy could do that, could he?"
'This one could," Marsha said, thinking of Bob. It would be a thrill for him too, she thought. He would enjoy making it with two sexy girls at once. The blonde wondered if Bob had ever done that before, if he had ever seen two girls make it together before. For, that was going to be the final climax of the act; that was the way that Marsha had it all planned out.
"I bet he can take us both on at the same time," Marsha said softly. "Of course, he only has one cock but he can keep it hard for hours and he can really make a girl squirm. I know that from experience."
The blonde sat up too and looked into the redhead's eyes.
"Come on. We can try it, can't we?" she coaxed.
"Both of us?" Peg asked with a little smile. "At the same time? In the same bed? Both of us with him?"
Marsha put her hand on Peg's soft red hair and purred playfully at her.
"All three of us naked and yearning and fucking our brains out," she said, pursing her sexy lips.
Peg could not resist that. She wanted this stud, and she also wanted some special kind of experience. She wanted to get her mind off David.
"Okay," she chirped. "We will do it."
"Good," Marsha said, grinning and showing her dimples as she took her hand away from Peg's face. She did not want to make the girl think that she had any designs on her body-not yet, at least. She understood that Peg would have to be led into this slowly. She understood that the waiting would make it better for her too.
"I will call him," she said, jumping up. "You wait here and I will let you know what he says."
"Who is this guy?" Peg asked.
But Marsha decided to tease her new friend a little bit.
"I am not going to tell you right away," she said. "I am going to let it be a surprise for you. But you know him and he is very handsome."
Peg grinned and allowed her friend to play this little game. It added to the fun of the experience, she thought, and it made her even more eager for this thing to happen.
As Marsha walked into her house, the redhead called after her.
"Ask him if tonight is all right!"
Marsha turned around and shook her body a little in a silly dance.
"I am going to ask him if this afternoon is all right," she said.
Peg giggled and lay down and waited for her friend to return to her. She hoped that the stud was free this afternoon. She wanted this to happen. Most of all, she wanted to forget about David, the man who had been so good. She trusted Marsha and she knew that the blonde was very experienced. If Marsha said that this guy was good, Peg knew that he must oe a very good fuck. She smiled to herself and let the sun beat down on her and warm her as her pussy started to leak excited juices.
Marsha told Bob the truth on the phone. She. had always told him the truth about everything and she knew that she could trust him because he knew so much truth about so many people and she knew that he would not be shocked. She said that Peg wanted to join the two of them in bed and she added that she wanted to make it with Peg.
"Have you ever done anything like that before, Marsha?" Bob asked on the other side of the connection.
"No," she said, "but I think that it might be fun. And you can watch. Have you ever watched two girls make it together?"
"No," Bob said, "but you are right. It would be fun."
Then they made their plans. Bob's parents had a cabin on the hill outside town, and Bob could get the key from his father. He would just tell his father that he wanted to up to the cabin and relax for the afternoon. His father would figure that Bob was taking a girl up there, but his father did not care. Bob knew that his father was vaguely proud of his son's stud abilities. Then he would come over to Marsha's house and pick up both her and Peg. When they got to the cabin, they could all three romp and play and fuck in the wilderness of the woods.
The plan sounded ideal to Marsha. She reminded Bob that he was not to mention anything to Peg about the two girls making it together for him.
"It will just happen naturally," she said.
"Naturally," he repeated and then he chuckled again.
When she put down the phone, Marsha thought again of how good Bob was ir bed. He had graduated high school the year before, but he had not gone to college. In fact, Bob had not done anything except stay around the house and fuck girls all day and all night. Marsha knew that he was lazy, was no-good. But she also knew that, she enjoyed having him around. He was worthless in the ways of the world, but he was worth a great deal to her.
She walked back out mto the yard and looked down at her redheaded friend.
"He will be here to pick us.up in a few minutes," she said with a grin.
"Should I change?" Peg asked.
"Fuck no," Marsha told her with a grin. "You are going to have to take off your clothes anyway."
Peg giggled with excitement.
The two girls were standing in front of Marsha's house a few minutes later when Bob pulled up in his car. When she saw that it was Bob, Peg almost jumped up and down with delight She did know him and she thought that he was very good-looking. She wanted to hug her blonde friend for fixing her up with this sexy stud, but she tried to act mature abut the whole thing. She wanted to make sure that Bob and Marsha did not think that she was just a silly girl.
The two girls got into his car and Bob started to drive for the cabin in the woods.
As he drove, he looked at the two sexy things who sat in the front seat next to him. Marsha had let Peg sit in the middle of the front seat, and Bob liked that. He wanted to study her soft skin and her pert, little tits in that bikini.
"Peg," he muttered, "I am going to enjoy this."
He put his hand on her bare thigh and squeezed it. Peg closed her eyes for a second and sighed.
"Yes," she said, "I am going to enjoy this too."
Bob drove safely but quickly to the cabin. He pulled up behind the little, wooden house and got out of the car. The two bikinied girls got out with him. He stood in front of the car and put one arm around Marsha and the other around Peg.
"Here we are, girls," he said with a chuckle, "wild and free in nature."
Although it was something of a joke when it came from Bob's mouth, Peg knew that, in a special way, he was right. She felt very good out there in the woods with no one else around. She wanted to take off her bikini and run naked through the wilderness and feel like some kind of sweet, savage thing.
Then she decided, why not?
She moved out of Bob's clutch and quickly began to take off her bikini. Within seconds, she was standing there naked under the trees and she was laughing with a girlish glee. The girl looked so sexy that way that Marsha wanted to join her. She moved out of Bob's hold and took off her bikini too. Then she ran up to Peg and took the redhead's hand.
The two girls held hands as they started to run around from tree to tree, making the rounds in the clearing behind the cabin. They both laughed, and Bob laughed too as he stood there and watched four tits jiggle with natural excitement as they ran and two pussies grow damp with feverish sexuality.
Yes, he thought. They were very natural there in the woods. He was wearing a pair of cut-offs and he ran his hand over his stiffening cock as it grew in his crotch. He wanted to get naked too, but he stopped that longing in his system. It would be better, he decided to just watch them for a few moments. When they were tired and ready to fuck, then he would show them what he had for them. Marsha already knew, of course, but Peg did not know. He wanted to surprise her with the size of his cock and its strength.
The girls made a couple of rounds and then stopped in front of Bob. They were out of breath from giggling and running and they both grinned at him.
"Let's go inside," he said.
Their grins told him that they would not disagree with him. They wanted to go inside too. They wanted to get this fucking on the road. In fact, Bob thought, Marsha must be particularly excited to get the fucking started. She and Bob knew what she had planned for Peg, and she was, no doubt, yearning for this new experience. Bob was yearning for it too, and he wondered how Marsha would go about getting Peg in her clutches. He wanted to study this girl-to-girl seduction. He wanted to see it happen in front of his eyes.
Bob unlocked the back door of the cabin and then stepped aside like a true gentlemen so that the naked girls could enter the place first. As they went inside, he looked back and saw the two bikinis lying on the ground. He smiled. That is where they belonged, he thought. For some reason, he knew that the girls would be more comfortable naked in that cabin.
The cabin just had one room. On one side of the room was a shelf that was used for storing books and liquor, mostly liquor. Bob's father often came to the cabin and got very drunk all by himself. Bob knew that his father did that when he could not longer stand to be around his mother.
In the middle of the room was a big, soft bed. It was really the only piece of furniture in the room. Bob looked at the two naked girls who sat down on the edge of that bed and he found himself thinking of his father once again. Did his father bring women up here? Maybe he did. Bob could not really blame him if he fucked around on the side, but Bob also knew in his heart that his father was not the type to bring naked girls or women up to the cabin. For his father, this cabin was only meant for drinking. For Bob, this cabin was the perfect place to screw.
And it had never seemed so perfect before. Now, as the young man looked at the two girls who were so willing, he thought about how lucky he was. He had so many willing women who made his life bearable. Sometimes, he thought that he would go away to college or at least get a job, but he knew that this was his true calling in life. This was what he was best at. He could fuck and fuck and fuck. Perhaps, he thought, he would find some wealthy gorgeous woman who would pay him to stay with her and fuck her. That was Bob's dream.
But this was another of his dreams, two girls at once. And he knew that this dream was going to come true very soon.
Marsha spoke out with glee.
"We are ready, Bob," she said. "Get those shorts off and show this sexy, little redhead that cock."
The blonde turned to Peg and assured her, "You will love his cock. It is so big and juicy."
Peg looked again at Bob. "I am sure that I will," she said softly with a grin.
Bob could not keep the redhead in suspense any longer. He opened his shorts and pushed them down his legs and stepped out of them. Then he pulled on his already stiff cock a couple of times to make sure that it would jut out from his body at just the right angle.
When Peg saw that cock, she felt her pussy pulse with passion.
"Wow!" she said.
"Wait until that thing is in you, Peg," Marsha said softly. "He will give you a fucking that you will never forget."
But the blonde was also thinking one other thing. She was thinking that she wanted to give this girl something else that she would never forget, her first experience with another woman.
Marsha did not really consider herself a lesbian. She just liked to have fun, and she thought that this would be a fun, new thing to do. She wanted to fuck Bob and do whatever girls do together with Peg. She was still not quite sure what girls did together, but she knew that, if she followed the feminine voice that had been directing her for the past few months, she would not go wrong.
Bob stepped toward the two girls who sat there on the edge of the bed and turned slightly, offering his cock silently to the redhead.
Peg lifted her little hand and touched the prick with a light flick, Then she became more courageous and she wrapped her fingers around the cock and closed her eyes and let the emotion that that cock gave her go through her body like a lightning bolt. She had touched other cocks before, of course, and she had gotten to know David's cock pretty well. But this one was different, she thought. This one seemed to pulse with the energy of life itself. This was a great cock, a truly great one. She moved her hand back and forth, feeling the rod grow taut with lust as the skin moved in her hand.
Then she quickly took her hand away from
Bob's piece and turned to her friend.
"His prick is wonderful," she muttered as she felt the juices flow out of her pussy and onto the sheet on the bed.
"Yes," Marsha said, looking deep into the redhead's eyes. "I told you that it was great, didn't I?"
"Thank you, Marsha," the girl said with her voice breathy with lust. She seemed to be filled with lust at that moment and she wondered where the lust was directed. She just seemed to feel the vague need to do everything at once. The passion swept over her like the sun's rays when she sunbathed with the blonde.
Peg was suddenly a little nervous looking at Marsha and turned and looked at Bob again.
"Thanjc you too," she said.
"Thank you," he said, lifting his eyebrows.
Marsha put her arm around her redheaded friend.
'Why don't you suck on it?" she asked softly. "It tastes good too."
Peg touched Bob's thigh and he moved closer to her as she spread her legs and let him stand between them. When he did that his prick was right in front of the redhead's face. She kissed the tip of the prick and then she lifted the rod slightly and ran her tongue down the underside of the cock. The masculine flesh was sweet to. her wild and girlish tongue. She worked her way up the cock again and licked the tip of it. She tasted the fluid that was there.
David had taught Peg how to suck his cock, and the little redhead was anxious now to find out if what had worked with her old boyfriend would work with Bob. She figured that, if he liked this sucking, she would know that she would never have to worry about pleasing a man.
She stuck out her tongue again and ran the quick thing around the head of the cock very slowly. She felt the prick jerk as she held it and she knew that she was doing something right, for David's member had always jerked when she did that too.
She opened her mouth and took the tip of the prick into her. David had always taught her that the prick was the most sensitive at its head, at its opening. All of this stuff about deep-throating, he said, was nothing much. If a girl knew how to make the head of the cock respond to her, she did not have to worry about any other part of that thing.
Peg sucked on the head of the cock just as David had told her to suck on it, with quick sucks and intakes of breath. Then she pulled her mouth off the cock and blew on it with a soft rush of air.
"Wow!" Bob yelled.
In his mind, he remembered how Marsha had used her breath to thrill him that first night that they had fucked. She had blown some air into his navel and that had been great. This was just as good, maybe even better, he thought. This girl was playing his cock as if it were some kind of musical instrument.
And she was making him feel great.
When Peg saw his reaction, she knew that she was doing things correctly. She knew that what had worked with David worked with this stud too and it would probably work with other men, all of the men in her life. She felt strangely relieved when she discovered that and, in her relief, she opened her mouth wide and shoved Bob's whole prick into her. She closed her mouth tightly around the base of that cock and she felt him expand in there. She knew that her mouth was warm and that that warmth would make him grow larger and more excited after the chill that she had given his wet cockhead with her breath.
Marsha watched all of this with pleasure. She was surprised that her friend knew so mucli about sex, sucked a cock with such expert ease. But that made the blonde happier too. If Peg was this experienced, she thought, then she would not think that much about another girl. She would be adventurous, as adventurous as Marsha was at that moment.
Marsha put her arm around the naked redhead who sat there on the bed next to her and whispered in her ear. Her lips were close to Peg's head at that moment and the blonde almost wanted to kiss the girl who had sucked the cock so well. But she did not kiss her. She just spoke to her with a soft, purring voice.
"I think he is ready now. He will probably want to fuck you first."
When Peg heard her friend's words, she understood the real meaning of what Marsha was saying. The blonde was giving up her chance to feel that cock in her pussy first because she wanted to give her friend a special, little present. Peg took her mouth off the cock id looked at the blonde. She had never felt grateful to anyone before in her life. She almost cried with the thanks that she felt in r heart for this pretty, sexy teen-ager. Marsha moved away from her and looked up Bob.
"Fuck her," she said. "She is the new girl, is it going to be her afternoon." "All right," Bob said.
He moved back on the soft, big bed and lay re and waited for Bob to come to her. She did not have to wait long, Bob crawled onto the bed carefully with his cock hard and jutting from his body. He lay down on his side, next to Peg and took the redhead in his arms and kissed her.
Marsha watched this action and smiled at him. She knew that this was his favorite position, the side-by-side position, and she knew that Peg would like it too. It gave the girl the most freedom to use the muscles in her pussy in order to hold the cock into her.
Marsha knew that this was one of her favorite positions.
She was happy that she had given up her spot with Bob to the redhead, for, as the cock slid into Peg's open, yearning cunt, the blonde saw that her friend was already getting into the fucking. Peg closed her eyes and sighed and moved against Bob with her leg thrown over the side of his naked body. She kissed the young man's face and she held him close to her.
This girl, Marsha thought, loved sex just as much as the blonde did. This girl enjoyed a good fucking and she knew that Peg would be even more open to a girl-to-girl love feast after she had had this cock in her, giving her pleasure and reminding her of how good sex could be.
Marsha knew that sex with Bob could be very good indeed.
As Bob and Peg moved together there on the bed, Marsha yearned to join them. She moved across the bed and reached out and touched them. They were already sweating with delighted work, and she ran her fingers from Bob's hard muscles to Peg's softer body. Seeing them fused together in that way, Marsha began to think of Bob and Peg as one entity, one person that squirmed there on the bed with passion in its heart and the blonde fantasized about what it would be like to fuck this Bob-Peg creature. The cock and the pussy were busy, but Marsha thought that it would be so nice to have the hands of Bob-Peg covering her body and touching her and squeezing her. It would be so nice to have the Bob-Peg mouths moving over her and kissing her.
Then Marsha looked down at the feet. As Bob and Peg moved together and fucked, their feet moved too and the Bob-Peg feet looked very exciting to the blonde. She reached down and caught one of those feet, one of the male feet, and kissed it and then she sucked on the male toes. She heard the male part of Bob-Peg moan when she did that and she knew that she was adding to the creature's passionate intensity. She let one of the male feet go and grabbed a female foot It was soft and it had little freckles. She kissed one of those freckles. The female part of Bob-Peg was already moaning with passion, but Marsha sensed that she heard an extra little gasp when she kissed the freckled foot. She opened her mouth and sucked one of the female toes into her and tasted the sweetness there. This foot had been bare on the grass and it tasted fresh like the springtime, like the grass and the forest that surrounded them there in that cabin.
Then Marsha let Bob-Peg go and sat up on the bed and watched the creature move and squirm on the bed. The Bob-Peg mouths were kissing and the Bob cock was ramming deeper and deeper into the Peg pussy and everything seemed to move like Wonderful machinery. The movements got quicker and quicker, like a train, Peg thought, a train that was pulling out of a station, and she knew that this train was ready to move on down the track.
The Bob-Peg train summoned up more speed and more sighs and more gasps of lust, and then Marsha knew that they were ready to leave the station behind.
"Pull out," she said. "Pull out."
And Bob did. He yanked his cock out of the pussy and he rolled over on his back. Both Peg and Marsha were quickly on top of that cock and they both grabbed it and yanked on it until it started to shoot. Marsha thought of that stuff that spurted from the head of the prick as the oil that made the machine, the
Bob-Peg machine, work with ease.
Both girls moved their faces over the cock and caught some of that oil on their skin and on their lips and in their mouths as the young man came and greased them and oiled them so that they would run smoothly too.
Marsha's face was close to Peg's and she looked at the bits of white come on the redhead's freckled face and she yearned for her. She yearned to create a new creature, a new, well-oiled machine, a Peg-Marsha. And she knew that it was time to do just that. Bob would not feel like fucking for a few minutes after his orgasm.
The blonde knew that the come was on her face too just as it was on Peg's. She stuck out her tongue and ran it over her lips and tasted the semen and she saw Peg do the same thing. Then the girls smiled at each other and the heat of passion in the room started to grow with a mindless fury again. The Marsha-Peg creature came together as the two girls kissed each other and tasted the remnants of Bob's orgasm in each other's mouths.
It was so easy, Marsha thought, as she pulled the smaller redhead across Bob's body and lay back with Peg coming into her arms. It was so easy to get the girl to do this. Then she knew that Peg had wanted this experience too, just as much as she did. She knew that Peg had yearned for her body and her kisses, even though the redhead might not have been able to define that yearning in her lusty spirit.
Marsha lay on her back in the bed and Peg moved on top of "her and the kissing continued, the well-oiled, wonderful Marsha-Peg machine started to run.
Marsha lifted her legs and put them around Peg's body and the kissing, the hot and excited kissing, continued. Peg licked Bob's come from Marsha' wet and feverish brow and then licked the woman's lips, ran her tongue around those lips as if she were trying to suck up some wonderful kind of juice that would give her eternal life, eternal lust.
Their pussies moved together with little smacks. Both cunts were wet, wet and hot and yearning for each other and the clits were bold and hardening. Marsha could feel Peg's clit against her own and those clits started a lustful little battle, like two gentlemen fencing, dueling for honor.
It had been so easy, Marsha thought again, so mindless and so sensitive and so real.
Bob watched the two girls together and realized that he was a very lucky young man. He lay on the bed and began to move his hand over his cock as she watched the two girls kiss each other and hump each other. He smelled the sweet aroma that came from their cunts, the aroma that filled the room with a powerful scent of lust. He looked at the way that Peg's tits seemed to sink into Marsha's bigger breasts and he knew that these two young sex-pots would give him hours and days and months and, he hoped, years of pleasure in the future. He wished that this show could continue forever and he wished that the two girls would hump each other like that for all of eternity.
But then something strange happened.
Peg gasped and moved out of Marsha's hold on her and quickly crawled to the other side of the bed. He sat there shivering and gasping with nervous tension. She started to cry.
"What is wrong?" Marsha asked, moving toward the redhead.
But Peg pulled away from the blonde and cried out in anguish, "You are a girl and I am a girl!"
Marsha was stunned by Peg's sudden change. She had been so willing and so lusty for so long. Certainly, Marsha thought, the girl could not have just realized that she was kissing arid humping another girl.
But Marsha tried to be calm and speak softly to Peg. She did not want to upset the redhead any more than she was already and she wanted to make sure that this special lust that she felt for Peg would continue.
"What is wrong, Peg?" she asked again.
"You're a girl!" the redhead sobbed. "So?"
The smaller sex-pot pointed to the naked young man who sat there on the bed with them.
"He saw!" she yelled. "He saw us do that together!"
'f "So?" Marsha asked again. She turned to Bob. "Did you mind, Bob? Did you mind see us doing that?"
"Fuck, no," the young man said. "I liked it."
"Did you think that Peg was sick or perverted or something like that because she and I-"
"Fuck, no," Bob said, interrupting her. "I think that you are both great girls. You aren't dykes or anything like that. You just like sex and fucking and stuff like that."
Marsha turned to Peg again.
"See?" she said. "He did not mind watching us. He liked watching us. Guys like to watch girls make it when the girls are sexy and when they knew that they will have a chance to fuck those girls."
But the blonde's calm words did not mean anything to Peg. She continued to shiver and weep and moan as if she had just lost something of importance, great importance to her.
"Didn't you like it, Peg?" Marsha asked.
The girl yelled again.
"You are a fucking girl!"
Suddenly, Marsha was very angry with this little redhead. Peg was not making any sense at all, she thought. She had liked it, Marsha knew, and she had probably yearned for it for weeks-maybe even years. There was nothing sick about it, the blonde thought. It was just something new and different, something to make her feel alive and good again. She had been enjoying this little girl-to-girl play, but this bitch had ruined it for her. This little redhead had taken away the thing that Marsha had most looked forward too.
"You fucking bitch," Marsha snarled, "you know you liked it With me."
"No!" Peg cried! "You are a girl and I am a girl!"
Why did she protest? Why did she deny what was obviously in her heart and in her pussy? Marsha wanted to knock some sense into the girl. She moved toward the cowering Peg and raised her hand.
"Listen to your body and do what it tells you to do!" she yelled. "Listen to your cunt! Your cunt is real and it has not been fucked up by some stupid morality!"
And then she slapped the little redhead with a furious blow.
"Fucking bitch!" the blonde cried again and slapped her again.
"No," Peg whimpered. "Stupid little slut!"
There was another slap, but this one went across Peg's tits.
The redhead was crying and the blonde was hitting her and Bob did not know what to do. He had not planned on something like this when he had brought them to this cabin. He did not know if he should stop Marsha or not. He was angry with Peg too, for he had been enjoying the show that the two girls were putting on for him, but he hated to see the girl hurt just because she had suddenly had second thoughts.
"No," Peg whimpered again, but she held her hands on her side now. She did not try to protect herself from her friend's slaps. "Yes!" Peg cried. "Beat the shit out of me, Marsha! Beat the fucking shit out of me! I am a no-good, little whore!"
When Marsha heard those cries, she suddenly wanted to weep too. She wanted to weep and take the redhead in her arms and tell her that she understood, but she could not be kind to the girl now. She needed to beat the girl as much as Peg needed the beating. With every blow that she gave the little redhead, her pussy burst with more passionate flame. She was finding out something very important about herself at this moment. She was finding out that she enjoyed giving this girl pain.
Bob watched them work together with his mouth open in shock. He had never seen anything like this before.
And he listened to their cries without understanding the reason for them, as if the two girls were crying out in some foreign language, some strange language that expressed strange desires. He only knew that he was not supposed to stop Marsha now. He knew that the redhead wanted this action as much as the blonde did.
As the blows fell again and again, he watched the two of them and listened to the words that they used in speaking to each other. The words did not make sense at all.
"Marsha, beat the fucking shit of me!"
"You little slut, you liked it didn't you?"
"Yes! Hit me again, Marsha!"
"You mangy little whore!"
"Yes! Slap the crap out of me!"
Then Marsha suddenly stopped hitting the girl and smiled at her. Through her tears of pain, Peg smiled back at the blonde. She had discovered something about herself too. She had discovered just how good pain can be when it comes from another sexy girl.
Marsha lay back on the bed and ran her fingers through her own, light-colored pussy hair. She smiled at the redhead who sniffed there in the corner of the bed.
"Eat my pussy, you little whore," she said softly. "You know that you want to suck my clit and lick my cunt. So do it."
Peg sniffed her tears one last time and lay down with her head between Marsha's sexy legs. She put her hands on the blonde's thighs and she kissed the inside of those legs with hot passion. Then she moved her tongue up to the hole, the sweet hole that held Marsha's best juices and she buried her face in the blonde's pussy hair and ran that tongue into that sweet hole.
"Mangy whore," Marsha gasped, but, as she said those words, she reached down and played with her friend's red hair.
The blonde looked at Bob with eyes like looked sleepy with satisfaction.
"When we are through here, I will hit her some more and then we will both fuck you," she promised the young man.
The perplexed Bob did not understand this scene at all. Did the two girls love each other or hate each other? Did Marsha love giving the girl pain? Did Peg love receiving it?
Bob had never seen anything like this before, but he did not try to stop it. He knew that he could not stop the sex and the lust that flowed between these two girls, and he knew that at least most of it turned him on. He watched Peg now and heard the slurping of the redhead's tongue in Marsha's cunt and he knew that he did not want to stop this kind of exciting show.
Marsha lay there and rubbed Peg's red hair and felt a new emotion run through her. She remembered Mrs. Fletcher, the woman that she had wanted to hurt when she first saw her with Bob, the woman who was also so sexy that Marsha could not really blame her Bob when she thought that he had fucked her.
It was that confusion of desires, that confusion of hungers that made her dizzy with lust, for now both of the hungers had been taken care of. She had slapped Peg and now Peg was eating out her cunt.
Marsha did not really understand it, but she knew that this was the most secret part of her sexual world, that this was the thing that she had most wanted for all of these months. She had stumbled upon it almost by accident, but now she would know that she would want it again and again.
As Peg licked her cunt and then ran her tongue over Marsha's aching clit, the blonde wondered how many other females there were in the world who, like Peg, wanted to be hurt and cursed. She remembered the story that
Bob had told her about Mrs. Fletcher, how the woman like to sit naked on the floor while Bob cursed her. Marsha knew that she would be calling on Mrs. Fletcher very soon. She would give that sexy housewife what she needed and even more, more than Mrs. Fletcher had ever dreamed of at night.
Yes, Marsha thought, it was the night that did it to her. She looked out the window of the cabin and saw the sun going down as Peg started to suck on her clit. Marsha gasped and knew that she would be coming very soon.
And she knew that she would come many more times with these strange desires mixing in her body.
This was her real night-time desire, she thought.
And people get very strange at night, very strange and very exciting.
She smiled and lifted her legs and put them over Peg's freckled shoulders and waited for the wonderful, new orgasm to sweep through her young body. She knew that it would be there at any second.
TEACHER, TEACHER, SUCK MY CLIT!
The beautiful, dark-haired woman hung from the ceiling with the chains tight around her wrists. She was naked, of course. She was in the presence of her love.
Marsha hurled the lash of the whip at the woman's bare back and listened to the lovely crack as the whip sank deep into Donna's flesh.
"Yes," the hanging woman muttered. "Yes.
Again."
Marsha tossed another bit of pain her way and Donna felt the shock move through her blood and make her cunt juices flow.
Marsha was nineteen years old by then, and she had been knocking women around in her spare time since she was sixteen. But she had only recently met Donna and this woman had added a new dimension to the sexual sport of punishment. Donna was a very wealthy, young woman, and she had stocked her big house with whips and chains and other devices that she begged Marsha to use on her.
Marsha was more than happy to oblige the sexy female.
The strange thing was this: Donna was only twenty years old herself. Marsha knew the story of her life. They had been lovers for two weeks, and Donna had told the woman with the whip everything.
Donna was an orphan.
Her father had been a banker and her mother had been one of the leading socialites in this college town, but they had both been killed when their private plane crashed in the Rocky Mountains. That had been the year before. Donna felt guilty about her parents' deaths, strangely responsible because, when she received the word that they were dead, she was in bed with a little, fifteen-year-old sexpot with big tits.
Donna had kicked that girl out of her bed and out of her life when she heard that her mother and her father were dead. She had fired her servants and she had continued to live the big house alone. She had bought all of the punishment equipment six months later, but it was not until she met Marsha that she found a woman who was willing to use the whips on her.
When Donna discovered that Marsha enjoyed giving pain to other women, she fell immediately in love with the sexy blonde. Marsha seemed to be angel sent from heaven to help Donna relieve herself of her guilt.
When Marsha first whipped Donna, the blonde had felt a great deal of satisfaction after that action. She had felt that she had done something inherently good in the world, and she also knew that that whip made Donna love her even more.
It made her feel good.
After this whipping, Marsha gently lowered Donna to the floor and then loosened the bonds on her wrists. Donna lay there, bloody and happy, and looked up at the blonde.
"I love it," she said, "and I love you too."
She pulled the blonde to her and kissed her gently on the lips. Then she closed her eyes. Donna always liked to rest a bit after her ordeal. Marsha turned her over and moved across the room to get the salve. When she rubbed that ointment on the cuts, the cuts that she had put on her lover's back, she felt Donna jerk a little bit and mutter to herself. She knew that the dark-haired girl was happy.
Marsha soothed Donna with the ointment and the massage that she gave the dark-haired girl, and she thought about her English teacher.
Marsha majored in English because she had always liked to read, and she was not really interested in studying for a career. The blonde already knew that she wanted to move to a big city when she graduated and become professional dominatrix. She knew that that was where the money and the lust was, and she wanted a job that she would enjoy. She was only in college because she knew that some wealthy clients like their girls to act as if they were intelligent and well-read. And, anyway, Marsha thought, college was nice. She had met Donna in college.
She had also met a lot of guys that she fucked. Yes, she still fucked guys, but the fucking had become a secondary pleasure for her. It had been that for years, since she had discovered how much she enjoyed giving pain to women.
And she had met someone else in college too. She had met Nancy Malone, the young and sexy English instructor. Marsha had taken her first English class the year before from Nancy Malone, and she had made an A in that class, but, mostly, she had watched her teacher and wanted to beat her and make her come. There was something in the way that Nancy Malone moved that told her that that blonde-a woman with hair as blonde as Marsha's-would love being punished for untold sins by a sexy, young girl.
Nancy Malone was divorced and lived alone in an apartment near the campus. She spent most of her time reading and preparing for the classes that she taught. Marsha knew that she rarely went out with any of the men in the town, and she could not say that she blamed Nancy for that. Most of the men in that town were college professors and they were all generally worthless as men. They were bland, little book-worms and Nancy Malone, Marsha thought, deserved better than that.
She deserved a good whipping from a young, sexy blonde.
For more than a year, the girl had tried to think of some way to bring the subject up with Nancy Malone, some way to read the woman's mind and make her know that she yearned for her scholarly cunt.
But she had not been able to think of any way to get Nancy Malone to submit. She had talked to Nancy many times in her office and they had become good friends. Marsha took as many classes from Nancy as possible, but she had been at a loss to find out about the teacher's secret desires until recently-when she met Donna.
Donna was in one of Nancy's classes, in the same class that Marsha was in. She was not really a student, Marsha discovered. She had just come out to the college in an attempt to get back into society, to get used to being around people after her parents had been dead for several months. But, from Donna, Marsha learned one thing that was very important to her:
Donna and Nancy were in the same therapy group.
Obviously, Marsha thought, Nancy had some secret desires that she was not comfortable with and she understood that others had such desires too. Obviously, Marsha thought, Nancy Malone needed something out of life, and Marsha sensed that she needed some punishment.
For days, Marsha had been trying to convince Donna to tell her about what Nancy Malone said in the therapy sessions. She asked the dark-haired girl to tell her while she beat her and she asked the dark-haired girl to tell her while they made love after the beatings, but Donna was adamant She was not supposed to reveal anything that was said in those therapy sessions.
But, lately, Marsha thought, Donna had been weakening. She knew that it was only a matter of time and beatings until the dark-haired, wealthy, guilt-stricken girl opened up and told her everything that she wanted to know about the teacher.
It was only a matter of time and of beatings. When she felt that Donna was asleep, Marsha stopped rubbing her back and stood up and walked out of the torture room into the bedroom that adjoined it.
She lay down on the bed and spread her legs and moved her fingers to her pussy. She closed her eyes as she played with her throbbing clit and thought, not of Donna, the girl who was her lover, but of Nancy, the woman that she wanted to subdue in a special lustful way.
What did Marsha want?
She thought about that as she fingered her own clit, and she came up with the vision that often came to her when she masturbated.
She wanted Nancy Malone to take off her glasses and walk naked toward that bed. In her mind, she tried to capture the image of the lustful Nancy again and it came easily. It had been one of her favorites for months. She watched as Nancy Malone took off her glasses and lay them on a table. She moved slowly to the bed. She was naked and her tits were small and firm. Her pussy hair was light in color but it was very thick and bushy. The aroma that came from Nancy's body was the like the aroma that came from the sea on a spring day.
Nancy Malone sat down on the edge of the bed and ran her hand over Marsha's sexy body and smiled at her. Then she spoke softly and told the girl what she desired.
"Please, torture me, you sexy thing. I will accept torture from no other person than you. I will accept love from no other person. You are the only one in the world."
And, then, as if to prove her words and seal a special bargain that she was making with the girl, she leaned forward and kissed Marsha on the lips. The kiss was wet and soft and quick but it sent spasms through the young girl's body as no other kiss had ever done. Nancy Malone was soft and yearning and wanted to be whipped.
Then the scene changed in Marsha's head and Nancy Malone was standing in a field of tall, green grass. She was still naked and she turned her back to Marsha and the girl could see her body tense as she waited for the first blow to fall upon her skin.
"Do it," she said softly with her back still turned to the young girl. "I need it so badly-from you-do it and make me feel good."
And the whip moved like a feather in the girl's hand. She lashed the teacher's back with no effort at all. She cut into Nancy Malone's soft, white skin and she saw the body jerk as Nancy stood there and tried to stand rigid under the blows that she was receiving from the young girl who loved her. She lashed her again and again and the crack of the whip sounded so naturally there. It sounded like the song of a bird, a strange bird that flew down from paradise to sing to these two lovers because they had pleased the heavens with their pain and their passion.
And then the blood came to Nancy Malone's back. It came in trickles that turned into a mighty rush, like a flood of blood. The blood fell like a sheet of rain down onto the green grass as Nancy continued to stand there and Marsha continued to whip her. The blood flowed over the landscape, over the grass and turned it all red, red like fire, and, soon, as far as Marsha could see, the grass was red with Nancy Malone's loving, hot blood, with the blood that never stopped flowing, with the blood that never stopped beating from her body.
And that blood was so hot that a steam began to rise in that green field as Nancy
Malone spoke to her favorite student.
"I love you, Marsha," the teacher said in the girl's fantasy.
And then Marsha dropped the whip and moved toward the teacher as the steam rose up from the bloody grass and made everything so hot and so close that, for a moment, the girl thought that the world was coming to an end. And she did not care if it came to an end. Let the Apocalypse come, she wanted to shout to those blood-filled heavens, if I can share this passion with this women in the last moments of the world!
But Marsha said nothing. He just moved to her lover and fell to her knees in the bloody, tall grass and stuck out her tongue and licked the gallons of blood from Nancy Malone's flesh. The blood tasted that good too. It surrounded her and it found her good. She realized that, and she let the blood from Nancy's back flow over her own body as she continued to lick it and drink it down with passion. She was thirsty for the teacher's blood. It tasted to her like the sweet cunt juice.
In her fantasy, the scene changed again. It always changed this way. As she drank on the blood, she was suddenly back in a bedroom and Nancy Malone was lying on the bed and the blood that tasted like sweet cunt juice was actually cunt juice. Marsha was tasting Nancy Malone's pussy, was licking it and loving it. Then she put her mouth on the woman's clit and her mind seemed to explode as that sweetness came to her in a mighty rush of passion. She felt Nancy Malone move her legs over her shoulders and she felt Nancy Malone run her fingers through her hair and she felt Nancy Malone come with a wonderful sexual force that only a real woman could have, that only a real woman could bring out in another female.
And then, as Nancy Malone came in her fantasy, Marsha came too. She came jerking on the bed and gasping for air and thinking of the blood-drenched grass and the sweet juice that flowed from the pussy, the juice that tasted like blood, the blood that tasted like cunt-juice. Everything came together in Marsha's heated brain and the orgasm moved through her like a sudden shot of new blood in her system.
Then she relaxed on the bed and rested there and waited for Donna to wake and come to her.
She wanted Donna with her because she wanted to again try to get the dark-haired girl to talk about Nancy Malone's wonderful secrets. What did Nancy Malone think about in the darkness of the night? Marsha wanted to know so that she could work her own way into those thoughts that came to the teacher in the darkness, in the soft and comforting and secure darkness.
In a few minutes, Donna was standing at the door. She grinned almost sheepishly to the naked girl who lay on her bed.
"You were especially good tonight," she said. "You seemed to swing that whip with so much heat in your body that I loved every minute of it."
"You caused the heat in my body," Marsha murmured with an inviting smile on her lips. "You caused the heat and I loved every minute of it too.
Marsha lifted her arms and beckoned the dark-haired girl to the bed with a sexy smile.
And Donna came to her and lay with her, lay in Marsha's arms, the arms that had worked the whip that had cut into her body. The two girls kissed with an easy and relaxed lust and their tongues moved from one mouth to the other.
"This night was so good," Donna said again when that kiss was over. "It was very special. I feel that I owe you something special for it."
Then the dark-haired, wealthy girl looked into her blonde lover's eyes.
"Tell me," she said softly. "Tell me what I can do to repay you for what you gave me tonight and I will do it. I will do anything."
Marsha smiled. She knew what she wanted.
"Tell me what Nancy Malone says in those therapy sessions," she murmured.
"Marsha," the girl whined.
"You promised that you would do anything that I asked you to do. This is what I am asking you to do, Donna."
Then, just to show that she was not going to be that cruel, Marsha gave the dark-haired, sexy, naked girl a kiss on the lips, a quick kiss, a loving kiss.
"All right?" she asked.
"All right," Donna muttered.
The wealthy victim lay in her lover's arms and spoke softly, feeling that she had to because she had promised but knowing that she was breaking the rules of her group, the rules that had been set down by the psychologist who ran the sessions. She would have to be punished for breaking those rules later on, Donna knew, and she knew that Marsha would be the one to punish her. Everything in her life seemed to revolve around the blonde girl who gave her so much pain and love at the same time. She spoke softly, but Marsha heard every word, hung on every word as if those words could give her a new life.
"After Nancy Malone divorced her husband three years ago, he killed himself," Donna said.
"He was a weak little guy who had once planned on being a minister but he lost his faith in God or something. He claimed that Nancy had taken his faith away from him because she did not believe in God. Anyway, two days after she left him because she was fed up with his weakness and his whining, two days after she moved out of their apartment into the apartment that she had rented for herself, he called her up at the English office and told her that he was going to kill himself. Nancy says that he had made threats like that before, and she did not believe these threats at all. She laughed at him and told him that he should go ahead and do it. She said that she and the whole world would be better off if he were dead. Then she heard the shot and she heard a thud, the sound of his body falling on the floor. She started to scream and then she went with a friend to his apartment--the one that had been their apartment until two days before-and she found him dead on the floor."
Donna felt sad as she told the story. She felt sorry for Nancy Malone, who had to carry such guilt around with her. It was an even greater guilt than she felt. At least, the dark-haired girl thought, she had not told her father to go ahead and crash his fucking plane and kill himself and her mother.
"She never really got over it," Donna said, completing her story, her betrayal of Nancy Malone and the group, "although most of the people she works with think that she did. She took a few weeks off from the college and she cried and cried and cried, and then she came back to work and she did not cry any longer. But she still carries the guilt in her, the terrible guilt that she feels because she laughed at her weak husband."
"Did she love him?" Marsha asked.
"I think so," the girl told her. "In a weird way, I think she loved him a great deal, but he was just too weak and too spineless for her. You know Nancy Malone. She is a very strong woman and she deserves an equally strong man."
-Or woman, Marsha thought. But she did not say anything. She did not want to make Donna suspicious or jealous, not just yet.
When Donna finished her story, she looked up at the blonde girl who seemed to be lost in thought there on the bed.
"Marsha," she said, "you must punish me for this. I have betrayed the group and Nancy Malone."
"I will punish you tomorrow for this," she said. "That way, you will not have to carry the guilt around with you."
"Thank you, Marsha," the beautiful girl said.
Marsha looked at Donna's full, red lips.
They were quivering now with passion for the blonde. Donna wanted to be kissed, and, looking at her lover, Marsha wanted to kiss her.
"Now," she said with a grin, "Let's make love."
She kissed Donna's red mouth with passion and pushed the girl back on the bed. When Donna's back hit the sheet, the dark-haired girl made a little gasp. Her back was still hurting her, but Marsha knew that Donna liked to have a little pain mixed with her pleasure as she liked giving her girlfriend both.
She ran her hands over Donna's firm tits and then moved down the wealthy girl's body and kissed her soft skin and ran her tongue around one of those pink nipples. When the nipple began to harden under the touch of her tongue, Marsha took that pinkness into her mouth and sucked on it with delight.
Donna moaned to her lover.
'Yes," she said, "Love me. Love me just like you beat me. Love me. I love you. I love everything that you do to me."
When she heard those words, Marsha had to feel a little guilty. Her dark-haired, sexy girlfriend was declaring her love to her, and she felt a certain kind of love for Donna too.
But, even as she sucked Donna's juicy tit, she was thinking of Nancy Malone and forming in her head the plan-the action that would make Marsha happy and would free Nancy of her guilt.
That action would involve punishment, but it would also involve love.
Marsha kissed Donna's nipple with her warm, soft mouth, and let the plans form in her pretty head.
PART TWO
The next day, Marsha threatened Donna with the ultimate. She told the sexy, wealthy young girl that she would never beat her or love her again if she did not help in getting Nancy Malone. Donna knew that Marsha meant it too. The sexy blonde would fuck men and find other girls to make love to. She did not need Donna as badly as the guilt-ridden girl needed her. So she quickly agreed. She needed to be beaten and tortured. She did so many bad things every day that she had to feel the whip on her in order to feel free.
Donna did not really like the idea of sharing Marsha with Nancy, but she figured that she would have to, and, even sharing the blonde was better than not having her at all, the dark-haired girl thought
So, when Marsha laid out her plan to the wealthy girl, Donna listened carefully. She would have to follow it and not make any mistakes. That way, she thought, she would prove to Marsha that she loved her.
The plan began to work on the afternoon that Nancy Malone came over to have coffee with Donna. The dark-haired girl had invited the teacher over to talk about little things, just to visit. While they talked, Marsha stood in the next room and listened to the conversation and waited, for the first chance that she had to make her move.
"You know," Donna said, "I think that the group therapy sessions help me a lot. I do not feel as lonely now as I used to. I used to think that I was the only person in the world who felt such guilt."
"Yes," Nancy said softly, "I used to feel the same way."
Donna knew what direction the conversation was supposed to take. Marsha had briefed her on that.
"What do you do, Nancy," Donna asked, "to get rid of the guilt that you feel?"
The blonde teacher looked into the eyes of the dark-haired girl.
"I don't do anything," she said truthfully. "I talk about it a little bit in the group and that helps. But I still carry a lot of the guilt around with me. I don't know if I will ever be able to get rid of it."
"Your husband still haunts you then?"
Nancy sat the coffee cup down and relieved herself of some of her spiritual burdens.
"Every night, I still dream about him. I had thought that the group would get rid of those dreams, but it has not really helped that much. I am able to function during the day but I dread going to bed at night. I dream about him and he comes to me with his head all bloody and he tells me that I laughed at him, tljat I caused it all. I just wish that there was some way that I could repay him, that I could get all of the suffering out of me."
"I don't mean to ask personal questions, Nancy," the dark-haired girl apologized.
"That is all right," the teacher said. "It might do me some good to answer some personal questions."
"Do you sleep with other men?"
Nancy lowered her eyes to the floor.
'i have not slept with another man since my husband died," she said. "I would be afraid to do it If I was making love to some man, I just know that my husband would appear to me with his head all bloody and then I would scream. I just know that something like that would happen to me."
Then the teacher looked at the dark-haired girl and asked a question.
"Have you found a way to get rid of the guilt, Donna?"
The wealthy girl blushed.
"Yes," she murmured, "but you might think that it is strange. All that I can say is that it works for me."
Nancy reached out to the girl and took her hand. She trembled with anticipation. It was obvious to Marsha, who watched through the crack in the door, that Nancy was almost ready for her entrance.
"Please," the teacher begged Donna, "please tell me what works for you. I have tried to get rid of the guilt but it still tortures me. I have to find some way to-to-"
The sexy blonde's voice faltered. She did not know exactly what she wanted to do. She just wanted to be free, and she was willing to try anything if she thought that there was a chance that it would free her.
Donna put her hand on Nancy's and tried to calm the teacher.
"You won't think that it is sick or strange?" she asked.
"No," Nancy vowed, "I would not think that anything was sick if it helped you."
"Well," Donna muttered.
Hurry up, Marsha thought impatiently from the other room. She tried to send Donna a signal through telepathy. Nancy was ready at that moment. If Donna did not hurry up and explain how she relieved her guilt, the blonde might calm down and then the moment would be lost to Marsha.
Finally, Donna said it. The words came out in an excited jabber, as if she wanted to get it said and over with.
"I let another woman beat me and then make love to me. That is how I get rid of my guilt for a little while at least."
Nancy looked at Donna closely. She did not say anything for several seconds. Her mind was busy trying to understand what Donna had said. She finally realized that Donna's confession made some kind of strange sense to her. Nancy thought it over some more. She had killed her husband, who was a man. Would it not be correct then for her to seek a freedom with a woman? Her husband would not come to her if she loved another woman. At least, that is what Nancy hoped would be true.
She spoke before she even realized that she had said it aloud.
"I think it would help me to do that too."
Even though the words were murmured softly by a woman who was just thinking about the prospect for the first time, Marsha heard those words. When she heard them, she opened the door and walked into the room. Nancy turned her head and stared at her in surprise.
"Marsha," she said, "what are you doing here?"
And, quickly, the teacher took in the way that the blonde was dressed. Marsha was wearing a pair of black leather panties and a black leather bra that had little spikes coming out of it. She was wearing boots too. Nancy had never seen anyone dressed in this way, and she had certainly never expected to see Marsha, her student, dressed like this.
But, when Marsha announced her reason for being in the house, Nancy was not surprised. The quick glance at the way that Marsha was dressed had prepared the teacher for the news.
"I am the woman who beats and loves Donna," the sexy, young blonde said, "and I want to beat and love you, Nancy."
Nancy looked over the black leather again and then stared into Marsha's eyes.
"All right," she said softly, "if you think that it will help me."
"I think that it will," Marsha informed her.
The blonde in black leather walked toward the teacher and reached out. Nancy put her hand in Marsha's and stood up very slowly, keeping her eyes on the woman who looked so sexy. Marsha was really little more than a girl, Nancy thought Marsha was her student But there was something about the blonde that seemed very experienced to Nancy at that moment, as well as very sexy, and she knew that Marsha had become the teacher and she had become the student. She had to admit to herself that she did not mind the new arrangement She just hoped that it would cure her of her guilt and rid her of her nightmares about her husband with a bloody head.
Marsha put her arms around Nancy and pulled her close and kissed the woman firmly on the lips. As they kissed, Nancy felt the spikes from Marsha's leather bra dig into her flesh. She wanted to gasp in pain, but when she opened her mouth to make a sound Marsha put her tongue deep into her and that tongue gave her a great pleasure. It seemed so lively and so sexy in her mouth.
Nancy had never kissed another woman like this and she had certainly never felt pain like this, but she realized that this afternoon was going to turn into a period of new sensations for her. Without even giving it much thought, she gave herself over to the blonde student who seemed to know just what to do. She would let Marsha do anything that she wanted. She would accept kisses and curses and lust and leather from the student who had become the-teacher.
Donna watched as Nancy put her hands on the sides of Marsha's head and held her in the passionate kiss. The wealthy girl felt the twinge of jealousy in her spirit, but she knew that it would be better to share Marsha than to lose her. She set her cup of coffee down and watched the two females-both blonde and sexy-kiss. She watched too as the little streams of blood darkened Nancy's white blouse. The spikes in Marsha's bra were cutting into the teacher's tits. Donna wished that that was her blood, but she knew that Marsha would still be able to give her pain. One woman was probably not enough for that sexy, young thing, she thought.
And then the wealthy girl surprised herself when she found that she was hoping for something different. She hoped that Marsha had prepared a place for her in the torture room this afternoon, not as a victim but as a dominating female. She was one of Nancy's students too and she realized now that, like
Marsha, she had always considered the blonde teacher very sexy and vulnerable. Now, she wanted to join Marsha in whipping the teacher, but she knew that she would not be able to ask her blonde friend for that chance to show her own dominating power. She would have to wait and see if Marsha invited her into the torture room with Nancy.
When the kiss was over, Marsha pushed the teacher away from her and looked at the blood that was staining the white blouse. She smiled at that blood and kept that smile on her face as she raised it and looked at Nancy. Nancy smiled too. The blood was warm and fresh on her blouse and she knew that it was mixed with the love that she felt for her blonde, sexy student at that moment.
Marsha reached out and ran a finger over the blouse, pressing the material close to the bleeding flesh of the teacher. Nancy winced when she did that, but she did not protest. For some reason that she could not understand, she knew that Marsha knew best how to treat her, how to cure her of her guilt and her nightmares.
The blonde student took the teacher's hand in hers and spoke to her softly.
"Come with me," she said. "Donna has a special room that we use. You will be the guest of honor in that room this afternoon."
Nancy found herself gasping with lust as she heard the student's words and she felt the wetness soak her panties. She knew that she was being turned on as she had not been turned on in years.
The two blondes walked toward the door that led to the bedroom. Donna sat in her chair and waited with expectation. She wanted to go with them, but she knew that she would not be allowed in that room unless Marsha decided that she was worthy of it. She knew that Marsha controlled this moment as she controlled all the other moments in Donna's life.
As they stood at the door, Marsha turned around and looked at the dark-haired beauty and smiled at her.
"Come with us, Donna," she said.
Donna, with relief in her breath and joy in her heart, almost jumped up from the chair. She followed the two blondes through the bedroom and into the special room, the room that she had decorated before she had even met Marsha but the room that Marsha controlled like a queen now.
The dark-haired girl stood by the door and watched as Marsha led Nancy to the center of the room. There, the student ran her hand softly through the teacher's hair and then gave her her first order of the afternoon.
"Take off your clothes, Nancy," she said softly, "and while you strip, tell me about your nightmares."
Nancy shivered when Marsha reminded her of those nightmares, but she knew that she would have to reveal them if she wanted the student turned teacher to help her.
She slowly unbuttoned her bloody blouse and started to talk.
"In those dreams, I was lying in the dark and I am naked when my husband comes to me. He is in light. The light shines around him as if he were some kind of a god, and his head is bloody, so bloody. The bloody spurts out of the little hole at the side of his head and he looks down on me. The blood from the hole falls on my naked body and covers me with its heat and its stickiness. I want to tell him that I cannot stand the blood any longer, but I cannot speak. I know that I deserve that hot blood on my body. Then my husband tells me that I caused it all, that I laughed at him and made him weak and that caused his death. 'You shot me in the head, Nancy,' he says. 'You shot me and killed me.' And the blood keeps coming and covering me until I feel that I am drowning in blood, his blood, not my blood. It seems to me that, if I could only bleed, he would forgive me, but I cannot bleed. I have no blood of my own. But he is filled with blood, never-ending blood and it washes over me and covers me until I can no longer breath. That is when I scream. That is when I wake up."
By the time she finished her story of blood that drowns, she was naked in front of her student. She stood there with her own blood still flowing in little streams from her tits.
"I understand," Marsha said softly, looking over the teacher's naked, sexy body and feeling her own pussy pulse against the leather of her panties. Then she thought that she should explain something to the woman.
"Nancy," she said, "when we do this, I will have to curse you and yell at you and call you all kinds of names. But I am only doing this for your own good. I want you to realize that. I am cursing you because I love you and want to help you. Do you understand, Nancy?"
The teacher nodded her head and then she thought of something that the girl had said, something that she wanted repeated because it made her feel so good to hear it.
"You love me?" she asked.
"Yes," Marsha said, "I love you."
Nancy turned to Donna and looked at her with eyes filled with tears.
"Do you love me too, Donna?"
"Yes," the dark-haired girl said softly, realizing that it was the truth, "I love you, Nancy."
"You both love me?"
"Yes," Marsha said, "and we will both beat you with love."
Donna, leaning against the wall, felt a sigh escape her lips as she learned that her lover was planning to include her in this wonderful afternoon of pain. She yearned to pick up a whip and beat the teacher as Marsha had beaten her so many times. She yearned to hear Nancy's screams of pain, and then, Donna thought, she and Marsha would take the woman to bed and soothe her with their lips and their pussies and their love.
Marsha walked to center of the room and pulled down the chains that she had often used on Donna. When she saw those chains, the dark-haired girl felt her own pussy grow wet as she remembered all the times that she had hung from those special things. Now, she thought, the teacher would hang from them and she would be beaten with desire and lust by both students.
"Come here, Nancy," the blonde said.
And teacher walked to her and held out her arms. She knew that Marsha wanted to fix those chains around her wrists. She knew in her heart that this would be a special part of the ordeal. The chains had little shackles on the end of them. Marsha quickly snapped those cuffs onto Nancy's bare wrists and tightened them until they held the teacher securely.
Then, as Nancy stood there, waiting for her ordeal to start, Marsha walked to another part of the room, to the little machine that controlled the chains. She flicked a switch and the chains started to move up into the ceiling. Nancy's arms moved with them and, finally, Nancy could feel herself being lifted off the floor as the chains jerked her arms and gave her a delicious pain.
When the teacher's feet were off the floor, Marsha flicked the switch again and let the blonde, sexy woman hang there, chained and ready for anything.
Then the blonde student looked at her old friend in pain, Donna.
"Take your clothes off too," she said softly. "It would mean more to you and to her if you were naked."
While Donna stripped, Marsha walked toward the woman who hung there in the center of the room. She spoke to Nancy is a voice that was like a curse.
"You whore," she hissed. "You killed your own fucking husband with your whore ways. Now you will pay."
"Yes," Nancy murmured, feeling the words chill and heat her spirit at the same time, "make me pay for what I did to my husband."
Marsha moved close to Nancy's side, so close that the spikes from her leather bra punctured the skin there. She lowered herself a bit and felt the spikes rip through Nancy's soft, sexy skin. Then Marsha stepped back and saw the blood flowing, the beautiful blood of a beautiful woman.
"See," she said, "you have blood. Your dead husband had blood and you have blood too."
Nancy glanced down at the red liquid that flowed down her body and dripped onto the floor.
"Yes," she said, "I have blood."
By that time, Donna was naked and waiting for Marsha to tell her what she should do to show Nancy some more of her blood.
Marsha turned and smiled at the dark-haired beauty.
"Get a whip," she said. "You will be the one who will beat her."
Donna grinned with girlish glee. "Thank you, Marsha," she said. And Nancy murmured an echo. "Thank you, Marsha."
Donna walked to the wall and pulled down a whip, one of the whips that she most loved for Marsha to use on her. She ran the leather end of the whip through her fingers as she walked slowly toward the sexy, naked, bleeding teacher who hung there, waiting for her.
This was a new experience for Donna. She had been beaten many times but she had never had the chance to use the whip on anyone else. She was going to love this, she thought, and she knew that she wanted to give Nancy the kind of beating that she herself would have wanted on such a sexy afternoon.
Marsha stepped back and grinned at Donna. She gave her one last order, one last bit of learned advice.
"Curse her when you beat her," she said softly.
Then the sexy blonde in black leather raised her voice in a roar.
"Beat the shit out of the no-good, murdering whore!"
Donna raised the whip and flung the leather end at Nancy's sexy, white flesh, at her trembling breasts and stomach. It landed on that skin with a smack that Donna felt in her soul. She loved this sound of whip falling on flesh, even when she was the one doing the whipping. She tried to imagine what kind of pain was going through Nancy at that moment, and she knew that the teacher would enjoy this just as much as Donna had enjoyed all the beatings that Marsha had given her.
Then, as she lashed the blonde teacher again, she started to curse.
"You filthy cunt! You murdering prostitute! You no-good whore! You stink and your pussy stinks! You deserve this, you mangy cunt!"
Nancy listened to the words and knew that they were true. She felt the sting of the whip and the pain in her body and she felt the warm blood flow from the cracks in her flesh and she felt good, warm and good and loving toward these two students. For the first time in years, she felt free.
Marsha stood back and watched it all and thought about what was still to come, the loving, the lesbian loving that she and Donna would give to this sexy teacher. That is what she looked forward to now. She would let Donna do most of the beating because she wanted to be rested and refreshed for the loving. She had dreamed of this afternoon for months and now her dream was coming true. As she watched the teacher bleed and cry out, she felt that she could conquer the world.
Later, she and Donna carefully bathed Nancy and rubbed the special ointment on her wounds. They put her on the bed and let her rest for a few moments before the loving part of the evening began. By then, the sun was going down and that made Marsha happy. She remembered that the night was soft. She remembered that she controlled the night.
She stood at the window of the bedroom next to Donna and she put her arm around the dark-haired girl. Donna liked it when her blonde friend touched her, and, now that they were both naked and ready to make love to Nancy, she felt that Marsha was in a way her sister. They seemed to have so much in common.
And, just a few moments before, she had discovered something else that she and Marsha had in common. She admitted it to her blonde lover.
"I liked beating her," she said softly. "I liked giving it as much as I like receiving it. I do not know which one I enjoy more."
"You can have both," Marsha told her, looking out the window as the night came over the town.
Then Donna thought of something that she had never even considered before.
"Have you ever been beaten, Marsha?"
The blonde looked at her. She was a little shocked by the question, but she would not let her shock show. She had never thought about being beaten, but, now that she did, she knew that the idea did not appeal to her at all.
"I like to be in control," she said.
"I understand," Donna said.
Then the dark-haired girl looked at Nancy, who lay sleeping on the bed. She wondered if she would like to beat someone now, if she would enjoy using the whip on a dark-haired, wealthy beauty. It was something that Donna had to consider now that she had discovered this thing about her own soul and her own enjoyment
Marsha kissed her friend on the cheek and looked down at the sleeping Nancy.
"Let's do it," she said softly. "Let's make love to her."
The two girls climbed onto the bed with the teacher and lay on either side of her. They began to kiss Nancy's face and they roused her with those kisses. Nancy opened her eyes and felt the soft lips on her and knew that she was going to sleep better because of what had happened and what was going to happen to her.
She stretched out her trembling arms and put one arm around each girlish head.
Both Marsha and Donna seemed to peaceful and sexy, she thought, as they lay there on either side of her, and Nancy felt peaceful and sexy too, as if she had caught some of their peace when they had put themselves on either side of her. She tried to move and she winced with the pain that was still in her body. But it was not a bad pain, she decided quickly. It was the pain of love and peace.
Marsha saw her reaction to that pain and she kissed the teacher lightly.
"Just lie still," she said softly, with a voice that was filled with love. "Donna and I will do everything this time."
And those words from her sexy, blonde mistress and lover made the peace flow through Nancy in a gentle stream. She was content to lie there and let the students serve her, just as she had been content to let them hurt her.
Donna turned Nancy's face to hers and pressed her red lips to the teacher's. Nancy's mouth opened willingly to Donna's tongue and, as the two sexy females kissed, Marsha moved close to Nancy and started to lick her neck. She ran her tongue down the teacher's tit until she came to one of the pink nipples The nipple looked so yummy to the girl who had just seen that teacher bleeding. Marsha lowered her lips to the nipple and started to suck on it. She tasted the saltiness that was something like blood and she loved that taste on her tongue.
The teacher moaned as the two girls continued to thrill her. Nancy would just lie back and let them please her as she had been told to do. She let Donna kiss and lick her face as Marsha sucked on her nipple and she felt a new soft sensation coming to her, something that she had never felt with her husband or any of the other men who had fucked her so many years before. This was woman-to-woman love, she thought, and she knew that it was something special.
Marsha ran her lips up to the woman's face and Donna moved down to the nipple on her side of Nancy's body. She felt the teacher shiver under her as she ran her tongue around that nipple and she glanced up just in time to see Marsha kiss the teacher passionately on the lips. She thought that the blondes looked very sexy like that, and she let the thrill in her spirit that came from viewing Nancy and Marsha together pucker her lips. She put those lips on the nipple and sucked on it.
After a few seconds, she felt a hand pressing on her head. She took her mouth off the pink nipple and looked up and saw that Marsha was kissing Nancy as she moved her hand down and gave Donna a sign. She knew what that sign meant. Her blonde, sexy lover, the girl who had beaten her so well, wanted her to go down on Nancy's pussy. Donna was happy to oblige.
The dark-haired girl began to moved down Nancy's body, kissing and licking the little scars that she had put on the teacher's flesh with her whip. Every few seconds, she glanced up to see the blondes kissing. That gave a special thrill and it added to her pleasure as she moved down the body that she had beaten with a whip just a few moments before. Once she saw Nancy reach out and put her hand on Marsha's nice, soft tit and she liked that. She liked the idea that the teacher was moving a little and showing the girls how much she enjoyed what they were doing to her. Donna ran her tongue into the tender navel of the whipped teacher and felt the woman give a little jump when she did that. The dark-haired girl liked that too.
Finally, Donna was over Nancy's pussy. The teacher's legs were spread for her, although Nancy was not looking at her. Nancy was still playing with Marsha's tit and was still kissing the woman's warm, wet lips. For some reason, Donna thought that it was better that she was not watching the girl who lay poised over her pussy. That way, Donna thought, she could enter the cunt and surprise the teacher and give her an extra, thrilling tingle before Nancy even realized what was happening.
And the teacher's pussy smelled so good. It was clean and musty with the aroma of brand new pussy juice, juice caused by the pleasure that she was receiving at that moment. Donna moved her red lips to the woman's cunt and kissed it and the teacher did jerk. Donna put her hands on Nancy's thighs and held her down and heard the teacher moan a little bit. Then the wealthy girl kissed those thighs and stuck out her tongue and ran it over the soft skin of the battered female. She worked her way back to the pussy and spread the lips of that cunt with her fingers and sniffed the aroma that came from deep inside Nancy and wanted to taste the place that that aroma came from. She moved her tongue into the pussy like a dart.
Nancy, still kissing and holding Marsha, sighed with pleasure as she felt that tongue come into her. It was wonderful to feel such a thing, she thought. It was the kind of thing that she had always wanted. That warm tongue seemed to be alive in her pussy like a little animal and Nancy held her breath and wondered how far into her cunt that tongue could go. She felt like that tongue was traveling all the way through her body, and the pleasure that it gave her was coming up to her brain in sparks. As Donna moved that wet, warm thing all around her, the blonde who lay next to her kissed her face and felt her tit and Nancy felt Marsha's tit too. It was so soft and the teacher was surprised at that. She was surprised to find that a woman who could be so hard when she was giving pain could be so soft when she-was giving pleasure.
Whenever one of the girls would touch one of the cuts that they had caused in Nancy's body, the teacher would jerk in a little start, but she loved those little bits of pain too. In her mind, that pain was cleansing her and making her free of her husband's bloody ghost. She had found out that she had blood too, blood that would flow, and that made all the difference in the world.
Donna moved her tongue out of Nancy's cunt and moved it against the teacher's aching clit. This would make the woman come, she knew, and she wanted Nancy to come. She wanted the woman to feel completely cleansed as she felt when she came after a beating. It would give Nancy the courage to start a new day and a new life.
Donna understood all, and she put her lips around the woman's clit and started to suck on that piece of meat.
"Oh, God," Nancy moaned.
All of the sensations were hitting her at once and she knew that the orgasm was on its way. She felt that she was floating, floating on the lust that the two girls gave to her. It was wonderful and peaceful and it made her feel alive again.
And then Nancy came. She came with an excited yelp that turned into a girlish growl.
As she came, she knew that she would never be haunted again.
A CRY IN THE CITY
Many women who lived alone in New York City were afraid. They thought that there was danger around every corner.
But Marsha was not afraid. She lived in a deluxe penthouse apartment on Park Avenue and she knew that she would be safe because she usually worked at night. The night had always protected her.
Marsha was twenty-six, a college graduate and a professional dominatrix. She loved her work, and she knew that her clients loved her too. She was sexy and beautiful and she looked so feminine as she walked down the street, but her clients quickly discovered that there was in Marsha a hard core, a passionate love for giving pain. It was that core that her clients appreciated. It was that core that made the blonde wealthy.
The woman arose that day at three in the afternoon and looked over her schedule of appointments. At seven o'clock, shortly after sundown, she would meet with the Broadway leading lady who liked to be tied up in her own clothing and spanked. That would be interesting, Marsha thought, but that would not be the best part of the night.
The best part would come at about midnight, when Marsha went to visit Ron and his secretary. That was an appointment that Marsha waited for with a feverish feeling in her soul. That was the one that she would really love this night.
Ron was a wealthy businessman and his secretary was also his lover. He had called Marsha a couple of days before and had given her the name of one of her clients-the one who had recommended her to him. He had a special thing planned, he said. He had recently discovered that he liked dominating women, and he wanted his secretary trained, tamed and tortured. He wanted a pro to do it to her first, he said, so he could watch and learn too. He wanted to learn all the subtle things that a person could do to give his lover beautiful pain. :
And his secretary, Veronica, had agreed to Ron's plan. She was willing to do anything to please her boss and her lover.
Marsha loved giving pain to girls who had never received it before. She thought of these girls as virgins in a special way, and she liked being the first because she knew that she was one of the best. After a girl had had her, she would know just what it meant to be hurt in the best way possible, Marsha thought.
The blonde dominatrix was proud of her ability and she wanted to share her knowledge with this businessman and his secretary.
Marsha dressed carefully and put on some girlish perfume and went out to eat some lunch at a local restaurant. She liked eating there. The clientele included some of the best hookers in town and she knew that the call-girls would be there, eating something after arising for a night of work. She liked talking to those girls. She liked to compare notes.
That afternoon, as Marsha sat at a table, eating a steak, one of the prettiest call-girls in the business in New York City, a girl named
Candy, came in.
She walked over to Marsha's table.
"Hi, Marsha," she said, "mind if I join you?"
"No, I don't mind," the blonde said with a smile. "Sit down."
Candy was a cheerful, little redhead with big tits who looked so innocent that no one would ever think of her as a hooker. That is what Marsha liked about the girl, her lying innocence. Candy would do anything in bed. She and Marsha had once made love one afternoon when they were both horny and just happened to meet, but they did not work together. Candy was not into pain-either giving or receiving it. But she certainly enjoyed lapping a fresh pussy, and that is why she liked the blonde.
"How is business, Candy," Marsha asked.
"Okay, I guess," the girl said. "I had three appointments last night. But, I tell you, Marsha, things have gotten very weird lately. No guy just wants to fuck any more. When a guy just wants two girls to put on a show for him, I think I am having a normal, fun time. Last night, one guy wanted me to piss in his face and another guy wanted me to give him an enema and the third guy wanted to dress up in his wife's clothes while I watched him. Nobody-likes straight pussy any longer."
Marsha laughed.
"Well, Candy," she said, "you might have to take some lessons from me in a few months if you want to stay in business."
"Jesus, I hope not. No offense, Marsha, but I got into this business because I just loved the feel of a cock in my pussy and last night I did not get one cock in my pussy. Not one of the three of those guys put it into me."
Marsha knew what Candy was talking about. She still liked the feel of a cock in her cunt once in a while, although the blonde considered herself basically a lesbian. From time to time, she went out to a bar and picked up a guy and fucked all night. That was enough to hold her straight desires down for a week or so.
Candy ordered a salad and when the waiter walked away the cute, little redhead smiled at Marsha.
"Got to watch my weight," she said.
Marsha laughed and felt vaguely glad that she did not have to watch her weight. She worked off a lot of calories by beating her clients all night long.
While she waited for her salad, Candy moved her leg close to Marsha and rubbed against the blonde's knee. When Marsha smiled at her, Candy pursed her lips.
"You know what I have in my purse, Marsha?" she asked softly. "No, what?"
"A dildo. One of the biggest dildoes that I have ever seen. I got it in the mail yesterday and I was thinking of using it on myself, but it is no fucking fun to use it on yourself."
Marsha grinned, knowing what the redheaded call-girl was suggesting. She looked at her watch. She had plenty of time until the sun went down, she thought, and she would enjoy spending an hour or two with the sexy, big-titted girl.
"Sure," she said, "just as soon as we finish having lunch."
The girls were professionals. They did not lose their appetites just because they knew that they were soon going to make love. They ate slowly and talked about politics and music and life in the city. Anyone who overheard that part of the conversation would think that the two girls were just two secretaries having a late lunch or perhaps two young housewives from Long Island. But some others in the restaurant knew the truth. The other hookers who came in waved at them and came by to speak to them, but most of them recognized the look that passed between Marsha and Candy. The two girls were lusting for each other there at the restaurant.
When they finished with their meal, they went back to Marsha's apartment. When they entered the place, they walked quickly to the bedroom and there they stopped and looked at each other. Candy reached into her purse and pulled out the dildo.
It was the biggest one that Marsha had ever seen. It was a foot of white, soft plastic, and, when Candy flipped a switch at the bottom of the dildo, the big, white thing began to hum and vibrate.
"Just imagine," Candy said with a grin. "Just imagine what that could do to your pussy."
Marsha giggled girlishly. She leaned forward and gave the little redhead a soft kiss on the lips.
"I have to go to the John," she said softly. "You stay in here and get ready."
"Okay," the redhead chirped.
Marsha walked into the bathroom and closed the door and took off her loose dress that covered her black outfit made of leather. She had not wanted to let Candy see that outfit. It was for customers only and Marsha did not want to remind the sexy little girl with the dildo that she beat up people for a living. Marsha took off the special leather bra and let her big tits swing free. She wanted Candy to see the softness in her, not the hardness that her customers saw. She felt her big tits and she knew that they were very soft, as soft as Candy's tits would be. The one other time that she and Candy had gone to bed together, Marsha had fallen in love with the hooker's tits. They were so big and so full of life. They were like strange sexual creatures who had just attached themselves lovingly to Candy's body, Marsha thought.
The blonde sat down on the toilet and pulled off her black boots. She remembered at that moment how her clients liked to lick those boots, how they liked it when she ordered them to crawl toward her and lick the leather. One of them kept a special bag of manure in his apartment so that Marsha could step in it and then have him lick the shit off the black leather.
Yes, Marsha whipped men too, but she was really good with women. She enjoyed women more and she knew that that showed in her work. The blonde pulled off the other boot and stood in front of the full-length mirror on her bathroom door. She was just wearing her black panties now, the special leather things with the crotch cut out. Her blonde pussy hair was thick and stuck out of the panties like a forest that could not be controlled by anything, like something wild and natural.
Marsha unzipped the leather panties and pushed them down her firm legs and stepped out of them, studying herself in the mirror as she moved. She liked the looks of her body. She knew that she was sexy, and she took good care of herself. There was no reason why she should not be able to work until she was forty or so.
But then what would happen? She had been asking herself that question a lot lately. She knew that she would never have to worry about money. She had already made some very intelligent and lucky investments. When she retired from her work as a professional dominatrix, she would be able to travel and see the world. She would be able to afford a nice house in the country with servants. But would she be lonely? Would she have no one to share her experiences with? Marsha was bothered by that She had not been very good at holding onto lovers. The girls and women that she had met in college had passed out of her life when she moved to New York City and the women she had met here-even the ones who were not customers-were only interested in a good time. And she wanted more than that. She wanted some kind of lasting love from a woman who was tender and who cared for her.
It would have to be a woman, she thought. A man was out of the question. She could never tie herself up with a man. She did not have a yearning desire to be accompanied by a man as she traveled down the road to the grave. She wanted a woman with her.
Marsha looked at her sexy body in the mirror and thought of the redhead who was waiting for her in the bedroom and she could not help it. She was suddenly very sad. If she could only have a girl like Candy, a girl who would stay with her for the rest of her life, she would be happy. But Marsha knew that Candy was basically straight, that she liked cocks too much to settle down with a woman.
The blonde wondered if she would ever find a woman who would stay with her.
But then Marsha thought again of Candy, the cute redhead with the big tits who waited for her out there in the bedroom. Candy would never be her partner for life, she thought, but she could certainly make this afternoon very pleasurable. And that is all that Marsha could ask for, something to get her through from afternoon to afternoon. She opened the bathroom door and looked out at Candy.
The young hooker was lying on the bed naked with her big tits standing up proudly. She was using the vibrating dildo under her tits, giving herself pleasure in that area that few people ever touched. When she saw Marsha standing there looking at her, she grinned girlishly.
"I was wondering what was taking you so long," she said. "Come on, Marsha. Let's try this thing out."
Marsha grinned and ran toward the bed. She jumped onto the mattress and crawled toward the redhead, shaking her head and growling playfully like a jungle animal. Candy growled back and turned off the dildo for a moment. She dropped the long, white thing onto the mattress beside her and put her arms around the blonde as Marsha crawled closer to her. Marsha growled one last time at Candy and Candy growled back. Then Marsha moved close to those big tits and the two women kissed.
The jungle growling had been playful, but the kiss was in earnest, and there was something of the jungle in it too. The two females lay together and opened their mouths and let their tongues battle it out, moving from one mouth to the other as they rocked together there on the bed and felt their soft tits smashing each other with playful passion. Candy liked cocks more than pussies, but she enjoyed this afternoons with Marsha. The blonde could tell that. She could tell that Candy liked the softness of her tits just as much as she liked Candy's.
When that kiss was over, Candy ran her lips around Marsha's face, kissing the blonde's cheeks and eyelids and throat. As she kissed
Marsha, she reached for the dildo. Marsha heard the thing start to hum again as Candy moved on the bed and Marsha lay on her back with the redhead over her. Candy pressed the vibrating dildo to one of Marsha's nipples and the humming went through the blonde softly. She grinned and sighed and held Candy close and kissed her freckled face as the big-titted hooker worked the vibrator around the pink nipple.
"That feels good," Marsha murmured. "Glad you like it," Candy said. "Mmmmm."
Then Marsha raised her hand and put it on the white cock-like instrument that was better than any cock that she had ever had.
"Let me do you," the blonde said. "You need it more than I do."
Candy rolled onto her back and let her blonde friend press the vibrator to one of her nipples and run the thing around the pink circle.
As the soft hum went through her, Candy sighed and opened her legs and ran her hand down to her red-haired pussy. She liked the afternoon easiness of the whole experience. It made her cunt wet with desire.
Marsha saw the girl finger herself and knew that this dildo would do more for Candy than her finger ever could. She moved the vibrating thing down the redhead's body slowly. She made circles on Candy's flesh with the dildo and each circle got a little closer to the little hooker's wet and lustful snatch. Marsha ran the vibrator down the girl's stomach and worked it into her navel and made the girl giggle as the humming went through her even more deeply. When Candy laughed, Marsha laughed too, thinking that she felt young at that moment, as young as she had ever felt. She suddenly thought of another redhead, the first girl that she had ever made love to. That girl had been Peg, and Marsha had been a teen-ager when they had first gotten together. The relationship continued in mutual fun until the two girls graduated high school and went off to different colleges. Marsha suddenly realized that that was why redheads always made her feel young and carefree. Realizing that, Marsha put her lips on Candy's little mouth and kissed her softly. She was thanking the young hooker for being a redhead, the new redhead in her life on this nice and easy afternoon.
Then Marsha knew that it was time to give Candy the dildo. That is what this hooker really wanted. She wanted Marsha to shove that vibrating, long, white thing up her aching pussy. Candy was very traditional, Marsha thought, too traditional to stay with her forever.
But she was fun on an afternoon like this one.
Marsha ran the dildo through the red pussy hair and put it gently against Candy's clit. The big-titted girl jerked a little with that first touch and then sighed with pleasure. Marsha lay her blonde head on the hooker's big tits and watched as she worked that clit up with the white dildo, as the vibrating brought out the juice that shined on the clit in the overhead light.
"Put it in me," Candy murmured. "Put it in my pussy."
Marsha sighed with resignation. Candy was so traditional.
She moved the white thing down to the opening of the girl's pussy. She stretched her arm out and felt her way to that opening. Candy reached down and spread the pussy lips for Marsha and the dildo. She was that anxious for it.
"Put it in me, Marsha," she whined, almost crying with the tension that she felt at that moment.
One part of Marsha wanted to shove that long thing into the hooker with a fury, wanted to rape the girl with the white, fake cock. But she knew that she would be tender with Candy. The girl could not help it if her desires were centered around her love of a prick.
Marsha knew too that sh'e could never be cruel unless she was being paid for it. Even the fun that she had once had by beating friends and neighbors was gone. She was a complete professional and she saved her wrath for those who paid to see it.
The blonde moved down Candy's body as she slipped the white thing into her pussy. She moved it around in there and let the vibration go deep into Candy's pussy.
"More," Candy murmured in ecstasy, "put more in."
Marsha slipped about another inch of the long, white, fake cock into her cunt. "More."
Marsha looked at the girl in amazement. How deep was her cunt anyway? She already had almost half of the foot-long thing in her. But Candy wanted more and the blonde slipped another couple of inches into her.
"More. More. Give me all of it, Marsha."
The girl was twitching on the bed with the pleasure that she was feeling and Marsha slipped the rest of the white cock into her. The blonde held onto the end of the prick and watched in interest as the big-titted girl went into a frenzy on the bed. About eleven inches of the vibrating thing was in her and Marsha moved it around and the girl started crying out, making those animal sounds again, loving the feeling that the cock was giving to her. And then the redhead arched her back and tensed her body as the orgasm rushed through her like a flood. "Ahhhhhhh!"
Marsha continued to dig into her cunt with the big, fake cock until Candy relaxed again. Then the blonde pulled the thing out of her friend and looked at the glistening, vibrating thing. She held it up to the light and grinned at it. All of that had been in Candy. No wonder she loved cock so much.
Then Marsha flipped the switch on the end and shut the vibration off.
She looked down at the satisfied redhead and grinned. Candy grinned back at her.
"Do you want it now?" the redhead asked. "That thing never goes limp like a guy does. It can fuck and fuck all night long."
Marsha held it up and considered it for a moment. Then she decided that she did not want Candy to use it on her. She did not need a cock as much as her sexy, little friend did.
"Naw," she said, "I don't think so. I am just happy that I got a chance to serve you."
Candy started to giggle and reached out for the blonde. Marsha dropped the dildo onto the bed and went to her redhead lover and kissed her.
"Thanks," Candy murmured, as she held
Marsha to her.
"You are very welcome."
The dildo was lying between their naked bodies and their movement flipped the switch again. The thing started to hum and vibrate between them and both of the high-priced hookers-one a generalist and the other a specialist-giggled and felt the softness go through them.
It was a great way to spend a lazy afternoon. It was a great way to get ready for a night's work.
And it cured Marsha's melancholy for a little while.
But, later, as she took the cab from the Broadway star's apartment and headed for the place where she was supposed to meet Ron and his secretary, Marsha felt sad again. She wondered if she would ever find a girl who loved her enough to stay with her. She wondered if she would ever be able to settle down.
She thought of that first redhead again. She thought of Peg, the girl who had gone to high school with her and who had been her first female lover, her first female victim. :
Peg had married a guy from the town and had devoted herself to teaching junior high school in her hometown. She would not want to have Marsha around now. She enjoyed Bob, her stud husband, and the two children that he had given her. She enjoyed her quiet, sedate life.
Peg would never need Marsha again.
And the other women from her past had left her too or she had left them. She had yearned for adventure and money when she was younger and now she just yearned for someone to share it with.
When the cab stopped in front of the apartment house where Ron lived, she got out and paid the driver and stood on the sidewalk for a moment and let the night caress her. She loved the night. The night would protect her.
But, she wondered, would the night give her a lover for life?
Marsha ran her fingers through her long, blonde hair and walked into the apartment house. She could not think of love at the moment She had a job to do.
And she was going to be paid well for that job.
PART TWO
Marsha stood in the hallway and rang the doorbell to the apartment and thought of power. She liked power, and she enjoyed being around people who had power. That is why she liked her job. But she also knew that most of those people with power gave it up when she entered the room. They let her control them. In fact, they paid her to control them.
This one would be slightly different, she thought. The powerful man here wanted her to show him how to control his lover. In a way, she reasoned, she would be adding to the man's power by teaching him some tricks that he could use on this girl who loved him so much.
The man opened the door and smiled at her. "You are Marsha?" he asked. "Yes," she said with a smile, "and you are Ron, right."
"Right."
He held the door open and let her walk into the expensive apartment. He closed the door behind her.
The blonde turned and studied the man who stood before her. He looked to be about forty. His hair was turning gray and he was very handsome. Marsha also thought that this man reeked of power. She had heard that he was wealthy, very wealthy and that he had visited in the White House recently to advise the President on tax matters involving big business. He was one of those people who had gained a lot of power since 1930, the kind who listed themselves only as consultants. They were experts and they knew how to handle people. Ron knew all about politics and business and public relations and several other things, and his knowledge gave him power.
"May I get you a drink, Marsha," he asked, stepping toward her.
"No," she said. "No, thank you. I never drink when I work."
He smiled at her. She sniffed his expensive cologne and reached out and felt the fine fabric of the dressing gown that he wore. She grinned.
"As I understand it," she said, "I am supposed to train someone here."
"Yes," Ron said. "My secretary, Veronica. She is waiting for us in the bedroom. I would like to watch you work with her and learn what I can."
"Certainly."
"I just discovered this part of myself a couple of months ago when I was in Europe. I went with some friends to a very expensive-well, apartment filled with young ladies, and the girl that I picked was interested in these things and she asked me if I wanted to try it out."
"So you did," Marsha said.
"Yes," he said, "I did and I found that I responded to it better than I have ever responded to anything else in my life and now I want my secretary to prepare herself for this kind of-of-"
"Treatment?" Marsha asked, supplying a word.
"Yes, treatment."
The man was obviously a little nervous with Marsha around, the blonde thought. She liked that. She liked the idea that she had the power to make even a wealthy and powerful man like this nervous. She tilted her head to one side and grinned at him.
"Shall we go in and visit with Veronica?" she said.
"All right."
Ron led the way into the bedroom and Marsha followed him. When she saw the young girl sitting on the bed, she was immediately struck by Veronica's beauty. The girl did not look very old. Marsha guessed that she was probably nineteen at the most, much too young to be a real secretary for such a powerful and influential man. She wore her blonde hair long and she had a moon-shaped face, a fresh face. She was sitting naked in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed in front of her and she was reading. She put the book down when they entered the room, but Marsha got the chance to see the title.
It was The Sun Also Rises by Hemingway.
Marsha smiled at the young, blonde girl and remembered when she had been so young. But she did not believe that she had ever looked this innocent. She studied the girl's body. The little tits were pert and pointed and her body still had a bit of baby fat on it.
Marsha put her briefcase down and took off her coat. She was wearing the loose dress over her mistress garb. She would show that outfit to Ron and Veronica soon, she thought, but first she wanted to talk to the girl, to find out something about this fresh-faced, young thing.
She sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Do you like the book, Veronica?" she asked.
"Yea," the girl said. "Sometimes I have trouble following it but I feel real sorry for Jake Barnes."
Marsha had read the novel in college. She smiled at the girl and knew that Veronica was really too young to understand what was going on in the novel. She could not understand the sexual inversion or the myth of death and rebirth that Hemingway worked into the book so skillfully. She would just feel sorry for Jake Barnes.
Marsha knew what Hemingway was getting at when he wrote that novel. He had wanted us to feel real sorry for the whole, damned human race, not just Jake, and he had been right.
But Marsha did not want to bother the girl's pretty, young head with questions of damnation. She knew that this young girl had plenty of time to worry about her own damnation in the future.
Marsha took Veronica's hand in hers and spoke to her softly, in much the same way that a doctor would talk to a patient in the hospital.
"Has Ron told you anything about what we will do tonight?" she asked. "Yes," the girl said, "a little."
"And you are willing."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I love Ron and I want to make him happy."
The girl's blue eyes were very big and, when she looked at Marsha, the woman almost wanted to hug her and burst into tears for she had not seen such loyalty and love in a long time. She glanced back at the powerful man who had settled into a chair next to the bed and she wondered for a moment if Ron deserved this kind of loyalty, this kind of selfless affection. The girl felt real sorry for Jake Barnes, but Marsha suddenly felt very sorry for Ron. She doubted that he would ever understand just how much this little deer-like creature loved him, even after he had seen what she was willing to go through for him. Ron was too old to understand, Marsha thought, too old to realize that things could be done for love as well as for money.
But she reminded herself that she was doing this for money, a lot of money. She looked back at the girl and felt vaguely guilty.
Then she started to explain some things about the experience to the girl with the big, blue eyes.
"Now, Veronica, when we start the action, I will call you a lot of names, but that is just part of the fun. And you should do whatever I tell you to do. There will be some pain for you, of course, but you are a healthy, young girl and I am sure that you will enjoy it. Just let the pain rush through your body and I think that you will find that it is something special. All right?"
"All right," the girl murmured.
"Let's get started then," Marsha said, standing up and unzipping her dress.
She pulled the dress off and stood there in her leather bra and panties and boots. She tossed her long blonde hair about and hissed at the girl.
"Lie down on that bed, you fucking, little slut."
Veronica was obviously surprised at the change in the woman and she did not move at first. Marsha knew that she could not allow that, even from a beginner. She pick up Hemingway's great novel and hit the girl with the big eyes across the face with the book. As Veronica lay back on the bed, Marsha dropped the book on the floor and turned to Ron.
"Make sure that she follows every order that you give her, and make sure that she does it quickly. You cannot allow a slave to be too slow with you."
The man nodded his head. He understood.
Marsha opened her briefcase and pulled out the ropes. She moved around the bed, jerking the girl's hands and feet and tying them quickly to the frame of the bed. When she was finished, the girl was lying on the bed with her arms and legs spread.
Marsha turned to Ron.
"Now she is open to your every wish," she said.
Again, the powerful man nodded. Marsha glanced down at his robe and saw that his cock was hardening in there. In a few seconds, it would be sticking out from under that expensive cloth.
But she did not care about his cock. The girl was the one she had to work with now. As she reached into her briefcase for some more tools, Marsha looked out the window. It was very dark out there. She smiled and took a deep breath, trying to take some of the darkness into her soul so that it would protect her during this little session.
Marsha pulled the whip out of the briefcase and turned to the girl who lay there on the bed, tied and big-eyed. She knew that Veronica was frightened now. No amount of preparation could keep her from being frightened at the first sight of that black, leather whip.
The blonde professional walked around the side of the bed and turned the handle of the whip toward the girl. She traced the handle down the girl's body and she saw Veronica close her eyes and sigh as the cold hardness went around one of her young, pink nipples. Marsha ran the handle down her stomach slowly and moved it through the girl's light-colored pussy hair. She slipped the handle of the whip against the girl's eager, young clit. As she heard the girl moan.
"Bitch," Marsha hissed, "you like that, don't you? You would like to have this whip handle up your slut pussy, wouldn't you?"
The girl nodded her head.
Marsha slapped the whip handle against her clit and heard Veronica gasp as the pain and pleasure mixed in her body.
"I can't hear you, you little slut," the blonde snarled.
"Yes," the girl moaned.
"Yes, what, you bitch?"
"Yes, I would like to have that whip handle in my pussy," the girl whined.
She still had her eyes closed and, when Marsha hit her clit again with the whip handle, the girl opened her eyes with a start and a gasp.
"What kind of pussy do you have, bitch?" the professional asked.
The girl was confused. She did not know how she was supposed to answer that question.
Marsha ran the whip handle against the cunt-lips.
"Is that a whore pussy, bitch?"
"Yes," the girl murmured softly.
Marsha hit her clit again.
"Yes, what, bitch?"
"Yes, it is a whore pussy," the girl sighed. "Is that a hot whore pussy."
"Yes, it is a hot whore pussy."
"Is that a young, hot whore pussy."
"Yes, it is a young, hot whore pussy." I "Is that a cock-loving, young, hot whore pussy?"
"Yes, it is a cock-loving, young-uh, young-young-"
The girl had forgotten the rest of the phrase that Marsha had given her. The blonde slapped the whip handle on the clit again and then she saw the tears come to Veronica's blue eyes.
"Cock-loving, young, hot whore pussy!" the professional screamed.
"Yes, I have a cock-loving, young, hot whore pussy!" the girl cried in answer, echoing the woman who controlled her.
Marsha moved down to the end of the bed and studied the sweet, pink lips of the pussy. She rubbed the whip handle against those lips and saw the girl tremble and shiver with the desire that filled her body.
"Bitch," the professional snarled.
And, with that snarl, Marsha jabbed the whip handle up the girl's love-hole.
Veronica gasped again and then started to move against the whip handle as Marsha started to move it in and out of her cunt. She was being fucked with the whip handle and she was enjoying that fucking. She was fucking back.
Marsha knew that she could not allow the girl's pleasure to go on for too long. She jerked the handle out of the cunt and saw the girl try to follow it, try to keep it in her for as long as possible.
But Marsha held the thing up and licked the sweetness from the handle with one long movement of her tongue. She turned to Ron and showed him how she was tasting his girlfriend's sweet pussy juice. Then she saw that his cock was standing straight up from his body as he sat there in that chair. His robe was open and he was stroking himself with an easy, powerful grace.
But Marsha did not want to look at a cock right then. She looked back at the big-eyed girl who lay there waiting and wondering what would happen to her next. Marsha looked at Veronica was she turned the whip in her hand and let the leather strips on the end of the whip come free. Veronica gasped again. The girl knew what was going to happen. She knew that the painful part, the real part, was about to begin.
Marsha had chosen this whip especially for the girl. It was a good one for beginners because it did not cut. It only stung the naked, excited flesh. She did not want the girl bleeding right away. She did not want to frighten the girl too much. She walked toward the side of the bed and held the whip out over the girl's body, as if she were giving some kind of religious blessing. She closed her eyes for a moment and remembered when she was as young as this girl. Was she ever as young as this girl? Suddenly, Marsha doubted it. To her, it seemed that her youth was a fantasy. She had always been this age and she had always been working in this way, beating people for pleasure and money-but mostly for money.
The pleasure was leaving her every day, and she knew that, one day, very soon she would be hollowed out. There would be no pleasure, only business, and that thought made Marsha suddenly angry. She opened her eyes and she looked down in anger at this girl. It was as if this girl had stolen her youth from her.
"You slimy little bitch," she hissed. And then she raised the whip and brought it down on the girl's white belly with a smack. "Fucking cunt."
This time, the whip fell on her tits.
"Silly little, cock-loving pussy."
The whip fell on the girl's pussy.
The curses continued to fall from Marsha's lips as the whip continued to fall' on Veronica's body. The girl twisted on the bed and cried out in pain but she was tied securely. There was no way that she could escape the whip and Marsha's wrath.
And then, as suddenly as it had come to her, the anger drained out of the woman. She looked down and she saw the blonde girl weeping and moving on the bed, still trying to escape the whip that no longer fell on her flesh. Her white skin was red in the places where the whip had fallen, and Marsha knew that Veronica still felt the sting, the hot and lusty sting of that whip running through her.
The blonde professional dropped her whip on the floor.
With a sigh, she moved onto the bed and looked down on the girl. She put her hands on the girl's soft, little tits and massaged them, taking the sting away from Veronica's flesh with her soft movement. The girl stopped struggling against the ropes that bound her and looked at Marsha through her tears.
"Did you like it?" the blonde woman asked softly, tenderly, as she rubbed the girl's breasts.
"It was a little strange," the girl murmured. "But did you like it?"
"I liked the heat and I like what you are doing right now."
Marsha turned to the man who sat in the chair, playing with himself, pulling on his rod.
"You should always follow the whipping with soft touches and with love," she said.
But even as she said it Marsha doubted that Ron would ever know how to touch a girl correctly. She doubted that he would ever understand real love. It was up to her, she thought, up to her to give this girl the kind of love that she needed for once in her life. This one time would make up for all the times that Ron would not be able to completely satisfy her, Marsha thought.
The blonde professional lay down next to the girl and massaged her tits some more as she moved her face close to Veronica's. The girl accepted her kiss with a soft, young passion and opened her mouth to Marsha's tongue. She was still tied. There was no way that she could touch the woman, but she tried to hold Marsha to her with her lips, with the sucking kiss that she gave to the woman.
"Hey, wait a fucking minute," the man said, standing up.
Marsha pulled away from Veronica and looked at him. He was leaning over the bed.
"This was not part of the deal," he said. "I did not agree to pay you money so that you could turn my girlfriend into a fucking dyke."
"Please, Ron," the girl moaned, "please let her. It won't change the way that I feel about you-"
"It will be good for her," Marsha said softly, running her hands up and down the girl's body.
"Fuck no!" the man yelled. "I will fuck her! Keep your lousy, dyke hands off her."
"But-" Marsha said.
"But, shit. I said get your hands off her!"
"Please, Ron," the girl moaned again.
"You shut the fuck up," the man said, sticking out his finger at the naked girl who lay bound there. Then he turned to Marsha. He reached in the pocket of his robe and pulled out an envelope.
"Here is your fucking money. Take your whip and your rope and get the fucking shit out of here, you fucking dyke."
Marsha surrendered to the powerful man. He could not be reasoned with.
She looked at the girl one last time.
"Sorry," she said.
"So am I," Veronica whispered.
"Fucking dyke," Ron said.
Marsha stood up and pulled on her dress and zipped it up. She picked up her whip and put it into the briefcase. Then, with Ron watching her closely, she walked around the bed, untying the girl's hands and feet. She dropped the ropes into the briefcase and closed it.
Ron stood at the side of the bed, yanking on his pole.
"Fucking dyke," he sneered.
Marsha put on her coat and shoved the envelope with the money into her pocket and walked toward the bedroom door. Behind her, she heard the powerful, stupid man say to his lovely girlfriend, "Let's fuck."
"Asshole," she muttered.
But she did not stop to curse him out. She was a professional and, officially, her job was done.
Downstairs, in front of the building, she waited for a cab and she felt the night surround her. Suddenly, the night seemed very cold. It was not as comforting as it had been when Marsha was younger. She thought about the girl who had been so open to her in that apartment upstairs. That was the kind of girl she needed with her, but Ron would never let her go. That stupid, powerful man would never let his girlfriend escape him.
Marsha stood in the darkness and sighed and knew that she would never see that pretty, blonde girl with the blue eyes again.
Then the professional lifted her hand and hailed a cab that was coming down the street. She wanted to get home as soon as possible. She wanted to get out of this cold, damp night air.
MOTHER AND CHILD
On her thirtieth birthday, Marsha got up and took two of her pills and sat on the edge of her bed, waiting for them to work.
She had been taking the pills regularly for more than a year. She needed them to make her feel things, to make her work up the courage to go out and face the day and the night.
As she waited for the pills to work through her and give her their special tingle, she turned around and looked at the bed and thought that it seemed very big. She fantasized that the bed was growing a little bit every night. While she worked with her customers, the ones who paid to be beaten, the bed grew just a little bit, so that, when she came back and fell into it and tried to sleep, she seemed even smaller than she had the morning before.
Either the bed was growing or she was shrinking, she thought.
But she knew the real reason for that fantasy. She knew that what she hated most about that bed was the fact that it was always empty. When she had been younger, she had had men and women in this bed with her, but, for the past year, she had slept alone on every night She worked with her clients and then came home and slept alone, when she could sleep, that is. Marsha had no interest in picking up anyone these days. She yearned for some steady companionship, a woman who would share her life, but she knew now that she would not find such a woman. She would be alone until they put her into her grave, and then she would be alone for all eternity.
When she felt the pills start to work on her, she struggled to her feet and walked into the bathroom. There, she closed the door and looked at herself in the mirror, as she did every morning. Even with the pills and the sorrow in her system, she had still kept her beauty. That was her professionalism at work, she thought. She kept her beauty in just the same way that she kept her whips new and polished. But her beauty meant nothing to her any longer, for she knew that she would never have anyone to share her life with.
Then she remembered that she was now thirty. She leaned against the mirror and sighed and thought for a moment that she was going to cry. But she did not weep. The tears would not come. Marsha was dry as an old bone that had been buried for years.
The blonde moved out of the bathroom and into the kitchen and put some coffee on. Then she studied her appointment calendar. Big Lu, the prostitute, had called her a couple of days before and had asked her to pencil her in for an appointment soon. Marsha had done that, but she had wondered why Big Lu wanted to see her. That woman had never been into pain. She had figured at the time that Big Lu just had a special customer that wanted some pain, and that is what she figured now. But she would have to call Big Lu in a few minutes and find out what was going to happen that night. It was Marsha's only appointment for the evening, and it did not start until midnight. But she wanted to be prepared.
The professional dominatrix thought about going back to bed and trying to get some more sleep, but the pills were already starting to work, knocking the sleep out of her head, and she looked at the bed and knew that she could not face being alone on that mattress again right now.
Marsha sat down on the stool in the kitchen and held her head in her hands. If she could only cry, she thought, things might be better. Thirty was not so old if you could still weep, if you could still show some emotion except for sighing resignation at your plight. But she could not cry and she felt like she had been on the earth for at least a century. She sat with her head in her hands and waited for the coffee to brew.
There was a time, she thought, when she would have rebelled against this loneliness that she found inside her every morning when she awoke, when she would have gone out and picked up some woman-or, at least, some guy-and taken a lover home to bed with her. But she could no longer rebel at all. She just wanted to take her pills and forget her loneliness. But it would not allow itself to be forgotten. It was always with her, just under the skin, and the mornings were the worst time, the mornings when she came home alone. The afternoons were bad too, when she awoke alone. Those were the times when the loneliness scratched and tried to break out of her skin and attack her and gobble her down.
Finally, the coffee was ready. Marsha poured herself a cup and carried it with her as she walked to the phone. She called Big Lu and waited until the woman answered the phone.
"Hi," she said, "this is Marsha."
"Hello," the woman said with a groggy voice. She had obviously been awakened by the phone. But Marsha did not care if she had awakened the prostitute. If Marsha was awake, the blonde thought, the whole fucking world should be awake.
"I called to find out what you have planned for tonight," she said.
"Tonight?" Big Lu asked.
"Yea, you called me last week and told me to pencil you in for tonight."
"Oh, tonight," the woman said. "Tonight is something special, Marsha."
"Special."
"Yes, special."
The woman seemed to be wide-awake now, but she also seemed a little nervous to be talking about what she planned for the night.
"Well, tell me, Big Lu," Marsha said, a little testily.
"It is my daughter."
"Debbie?"
Marsha had seen Big Lu's daughter. She was a cute, little, dark-haired girl of about sixteen who was already working the streets just like her mother did.
"Yea," the mother said, "Debbie."
"What about Debbie?"
Was she going to have to pull every bit of information out of the hooker as if it were a tooth, Marsha wondered. She was thirty years old today. She did not feel like playing these games.
"Well," the prostitute said, "I don't want Debbie working the streets no more."
"So? What does that have to do with me?"
"I want you to train her to do the stuff that you do."
"What?"
"Listen, Marsha," the woman said, suddenly relieved that the whole idea was out in the open, "you make a lot more money than I do, and I want Debbie to make a lot of money too. If you could train her-"
"So that she can turn into my competition? You must think that I am fucking crazy?"
"I have been saving up for a year for this, Marsha," the mother said. "I got ten thousand dollars and I can assure you that Debbie will not try to cut in with your regular customers. I will even send her to another city if you want. She can work in Los Angeles. A friend of mine lives out there and-"
"Okay, okay," Marsha said, surrendering to the idea and surrendering more than anything else to the money.
But Marsha still had some problems with the plan.
"Listen, Big Lu," she said, "I can't really train Debbie unless we have a customer. You know, somebody to work on."
"Male or female?"
"Doesn't make that much difference. I work most with females now."
"What about me."
"What?"
"You could train her on me."
"You got to be fucking crazy!"
"Listen, Marsha, I love Debbie and I want her to make something out of herself. I don't want to see her hanging around the bus station picking up drunken sailors and sucking them off in seedy hotel rooms. I want her to be somebody. I want her to have some money and a nice place to live. If I have to get a little beating to make that happen, it is okay with me."
Despite her inbred cynicism, Marsha was touched by what the mother had to say.
"Okay," she said softly. "Where do I meet you?"
"Debbie and I got a little apartment on
Ninth Avenue. I can give you the address and you can come over and see us about midnight."
"All right, Big Lu," the blonde said.
She took down the address and hung up the phone.
The prostitute mother was prepared to endure pain in order to help her daughter make more money in her trade. That touched Marsha. She wondered if she should tell Big Lu and Debbie the whole truth, that even this kind of trade got sick and boring and worthless after a few years. No, she decided, Debbie was not interested in fulfillment. She would find that on her own. She and Big Lu were interested in getting her trained so that she would be able to specialize and make more money. Marsha tried to picture in her mind what Debbie looked like. Yes, she thought, she would be quite popular with the customers in Los Angeles. She was cute, pert, little thing. People would enjoy being beaten by her.
Marsha suddenly started thinking about her own mother, the woman that she had left behind so many years before. She could not even remember what her mother looked like. She only remembered that her mother and her father had never really cared what she did. She had always been a strange, little creature in their eyes and she remembered that they had always seemed vaguely surprised by her presence when they saw her around the house, as if they could not quite place who she was.
Her own mother would have never done for Marsha what Big Lu was preparing to do for her daughter. Her own mother would not even welcome her back if she returned to the little town where she had grown up. No one would really welcome her. They had all forgotten about her.
Even Peg, the first girl that she had ever hurt, had ever lusted after.
Marsha was haunted by visions of Peg, the little redhead who had lived next door to her. If she could only find Peg again, she thought, she would be able to regain her youth. She would not feel so. lost and so alone at thirty. Sometimes, when-she walked around the city on the afternoons when she could not sleep, she searched the faces of strangers, trying to see if one of them was Peg, even though she knew that her first female love was still in that small town, married and happy. At least, Peg had been married and happy a few years before, when Marsha had last heard from her parents, had last heard about Peg.
It had been years, she thought. For all she knew that little town no longer existed. It could have been blown off the map by some kind of storm. It could have been destroyed.
All the people in that town-Peg and Bob and her mother and her father-could be dead. She had not really cared before, but she cared now and she thought vaguely about trying to call her parents. But then she figured that it would not be worth the time. Her parents did not seem to care about her. They never had.
She thought about calling Peg. Peg had cared about her. She picked up the receiver and called directory information and asked for that small town where she had grown up. She gave the operator Peg's name, Peg's married name, Bob's name. She waited and then the operator came back on the line.
"I am sorry," she said. "We do not have a listing under that name."
The simple, dismal sorrow filled Marsha.
'Thank you, operator," she mumbled and hung up the phone.
She wondered what had happened to Peg and Bob. Maybe they had moved to another city. Maybe they were dead. She closed her eyes and tried to summon up the tears, but, as usual, they would not come. They were dead as far as she was concerned, she thought. It was stupid to even try to call Peg. What would they talk about after all these years? The way that they had made love? The latest fashions? Exams they had taken in high school? Politics? The weather? The sweet taste of pussy?
Marsha got up and headed for the bathroom, feeling suddenly ill. She knew that she would not be able to throw up, just as she was not able to cry. She was that dry, but she wanted to be in the bathroom, where she could hide from this bed, this growing and empty bed.
At midnight, she swallowed a couple of pills and then knocked on the door of the ratty, little apartment. Big Lu answered it immediately.
"Come in, Marsha," she muttered, a bit nervous at the prospect of what was going to happen on this early morning.
The blonde walked in and dropped her briefcase on the floor and looked at Big Lu. The woman was older than Marsha and she was big, but she was still pretty in the way that an aging hooker was pretty. There was a kind softness about her. She had somehow gotten rid of all the hard qualities that young prostitutes have. She had become a sexy mother to her customers, the kind of woman who was ideal for young, virgin men.
Then Marsha looked across the room and saw Debbie sitting there on the couch. She was a small girl with big, dark eyes and long, black hair. She was cute, very cute. She had not been working the streets long enough to turn old before her time, and she was not wearing any makeup. That made her look even younger, Marsha thought, even more innocent.
"Hello, Debbie," Marsha said.
"Hi," the girl said, blushing.
Marsha thought that that was strange. This girl could blush at the prospect of beating her own mother, of whipping her mother's flesh.
"Has your mother told you what we are going to do this morning?" Marsha asked, but as she asked the question she looked past Debbie to an open window and saw the dark night sky. She shivered.
"Yes," the girl said softly.
"She knows," the mother said. "She is ready and I am ready, Marsha."
The mother's words made Marsha jerk away from the night sky and look at her.
"Are you sure that you want to do this, Big Lu?" she asked. "Maybe, in a few days, you can find a client who-"
"No," the woman said forcefully. "I want it done now. I don't want Debbie on the streets any more. I want you to teach her enough to get her started tonight. I have already bought her plane ticket for Los Angeles and I called my friend and told her that Debbie was coming."
Marsha looked at the little girl who sat there and stared off at nothingness as her mother talked.
"When is she leaving?"
"This afternoon," Big Lu said. Marsha shook her head. "I can't teach her much in just a few hours."
"I understand," the mother said. "Just get her started. My Debbie is a smart girl. She can think up a lot of things on her own."
Marsha leaned over and picked up the briefcase.
"All right," she said. "Let's do it."
"The bedroom is in here," Big Lu said, leading the way. "Come on, Debbie."
The little girl got up and followed her mother with a silent obedience.
The bedroom was small and the bed was old, but it would do, Marsha thought. Through a window near the bed, she could see the night sky. She put down her briefcase and took off her coat and looked at that sky. There had been a time, she thought, when she had loved the night But now the darkness meant nothing to her, nothing at all.
Big Lu and Debbie were both wearing robes over their naked bodies. The mother made a move to take her robe off, but Marsha stopped her with a sharp move of her hand.
"Not yet," she said softly, "not until she tells you to do it."
Then the blonde turned to the young girl and began her instruction.
"Now, Debbie," Marsha said, "you must remember that you cannot allow a slave to do anything until you tell him or her to do it. The slave must always be reminded that you are in control of everything, and if the slave does something without being told to do. it, that slave deserves punishment. You should also remember that words are very important. You must curse the slave and sound as if you are really angry with that slave. That thrills the slave just as much as the beating does."
Marsha glanced at the mother.
"Okay, Debbie," she said. "I want you to tell your mother to take off her clothes and lie down on the bed. Remember to speak to her harshly and remember to curse her."
The girl with the black hair looked at her mother for a moment with her dark eyes wide. Then the eyes narrowed to little slits and she spoke in a guttural, snarling voice.
"Get naked, you old bitch," she said.
Those first words, directed at the mother from the daughter, made Marsha shiver. She looked at Big Lu. The woman was obviously a little shocked too. She did not move to open her robe and take it off.
Debbie walked to her mother and slapped the woman's face hard.
"I said for you to get naked," she hissed. "I want to see that mangy, old pussy of yours, you old fucking whore."
Then Big Lu opened the robe and took it off and stood there naked in front of her little daughter.
Marsha watched the pair with a strange sense of glee. This girl was a natural, she thought. She would not have to be taught very much. She took to domination as she had taken to her mother's tit when she was a baby.
Debbie pointed at the bed and snarled at her mother.
"Get over there and lie down, you worthless old whore, and spread those legs. I want to see that stinking cunt of yours."
Big Lu went to bed quickly and lay down and spread her legs. Marsha looked closely at her face. The mother was actually frightened, scared of what her own daughter would do to her if she did not follow her orders and follow them quickly.
Debbie looked at Marsha, waiting for some more advice on how to handle her frightened mother.
"Take your clothes off too, Debbie," the blonde said softly.
