Author: SM

Title: Her New Name

Part: 28

Universe: SM, Her New Name

Summary: A divorced librarian, daughter of a minister in the Bible belt, discovers that she is irresistibly drawn to slutty experiences.

Keywords: cum fetish, exhibition, humil, gangbang, les D/s, inc

Language: English

Her New Name—Part 28

(cum fetish, exhibition, humil, gangbang, bi and les D/s, inc)

By SM

(Other parts of this series can be found at: /files/Authors/SM/Her_New_Name_Series/

Copyright: This story is the sole property of the author (SM) and is freely available here to adults over the age of 18 for private personal use only. Reposting of this material without the express written consent of the author is strictly prohibited.

Just to let my readers know, the ASSTR counting log isn’t working for my files, and the ASSTR staff are swamped trying to correct some other problems, so the only evidence that these are being read are the comments. Please take a moment and send any comments, even if you just want to send “I read it” or something, to /files/Authors/SM/Her_New_Name_Series/A_Feedback_Form_For_SM_Stories_Her_New_Name.htm, and you can do that anonymously. That way I can have a better idea of how many people are reading these stories.)

From Part 27 (The Slutty Daughter, Kari):

“Your daughter? You mean the librarian? Kari?”

“Yes!”

“Uhmm . . . may I ask why you think that? I’ve never seen or heard anything untoward about her . . . the only thing I can think of which seems unusual is that she hasn’t been to Sunday School for many weeks. Her Sunday School teacher sent me a note about those who’ve sort of ‘disappeared’ and she was on that list. Other than that, I have no knowledge of this.”

“Well, you should SEE the pictures and videos which have appeared on the internet of her showing . . . her . . . and doing . . . her doing . . . unspeakable things!”

“uhmm . . . I’m not in the habit of looking for my church members on the internet doing unspeakable things, so I don’t’ know what you mean. Anyway, how do you want me to help?”

“WELL! . . . If I had MY way, she would be flogged and put naked in stocks so everyone could see just what a whore she is. And after that, she could wear the proverbial “A” on the front of her dress!”

“Somewhat like The Scarlet Letter you mean, of course—although, I don’t think in the story that they put adulterous women in stocks while they were naked. Are you saying she’s having a secret affair with a minister?”

“It seems that she’s having affairs with almost everyone she knows . . . but, most of it is right out there before God and everybody, so it’s certainly not hidden. And, she’s apparently flaunting her body to everyone and seducing ordinary normal people, so I’m sure there’s a minister in there somewhere!”

“Ok . . . so, how do you want me to help?”

“Call her in to account for her actions!”

“Uhmmm . . . ok, I can ask her to come in and talk with me, but I can’t promise that she’ll change like you would like her to. Only God’s power can change us.”

“Yeah, I know all about that. She hasn’t changed a thing that I ever wanted, that’s for sure. My husband said a friend of his found those despicable videos online . . . so ask him about them, so you know what I’m talking about.”

“Ok. I will.”

“Thank you. See you next Sunday,” Kari’s mother said as she abruptly huffed out the door.

After she left, his very-large-bosomed secretary came in and moved around his desk and sat with her legs open in front of him, pulling up her skirt, showing her naked upper thighs with just a hint of pussy hair. “You’re a good liar, Chuck,” she told him boldly. “You watched her gangbang video yesterday while I sucked you off.”

“My name is Charles.”

“Yeah, but that don’t rhyme with ‘fuck’, baby . . . and I’m in the mood for a good fuck, Chuck.”

“Try not to sound so much like a trailer-trash whore, will you?”

“You came from the same trailer park, Chuck, and I don’t talk like that when your high-an’-mighty church members come in, so get off my case! . . . or, should I beg you to cum ‘in my case’, instead?”

“That might work better, bitch!”

“Maybe I need a good cunt whipping, because my cunt is talking more than my mind.”

“I didn’t know you had a mind.”

“You’re right . . . I’m just a fucking cunt who needs her boss to fuck her. Please, Boss! Fuck my cunt!”

“I don’t mind if I do,” pushing her back on the desk and tearing her blouse open, pulling her legs up over his shoulders, unzipping his fly and thrusting his hard cock into her cunt.

Her bruised boobs flopped sideways onto his desk, staining his desk pad calendar with her sweat and his cum.

“Damn it!”

“What?”

“I can’t read what I wrote on my calendar now!”

“Oh, don’t have a hissy-fit . . . I have all your appointments written down like a real secretary out on my desk.”

“But, I lost all my . . . uhmm . . . other comments”

“No, you didn’t, unless you wrote some today that I don’t know about. I come in every evening after you fuck me ‘wham-bam’ and leave most of the time without even a ‘thank you, ma’am’, and then I copy down all that you have written on your calendar.”

He just looked at her.

“Well, I am your secretary, you know.”

“So, you know about . . . “

“All of your affairs? Of course.”

“Ok. What are you planning to do about it?”

“Open a store selling dresses with the letter “A” embroidered on the bosom—unless, you’d prefer opening a whorehouse called ‘Cum To Heaven’ or something, with your harem of bored housewives. Your wife might even join, since you’re fucking almost all the other married women and horny divorcees, including me.”

“Uhmm . . . no, I think I’ll pass on that . . . thanks anyway.”

Kari saw on the Caller-ID that the church office had called, so after listening to the message, she returned the call from the pastor’s secretary.

“This is Kari . . . you said you’d like me to call you?”

“Yes, Kari . . . Thank you for returning my call. The pastor would like to speak with you, if you would be so kind to take time from your busy schedule to meet with him.”

“Uhmm . . . could you tell me what he would like to talk with me about?”

“The pastor has not shared that with me, so I’m sorry, I really don’t have any idea.”

Kari felt suspicious, mostly because the pastor had never called her before, and for all she knew, he hardly knew who she even was. But, as usual, she had a hard time telling anyone ‘no’.

“Ok. Does he want me to come in to the church, or what?”

“That’s fine, if you’d like to. He said he’d meet you any place and any time which would be convenient for you.”

“Ok . . . uhmm . . . maybe I can come by tomorrow, if that works.”

“Sure . . . what time?”

Kari thought for a few moments. She was on duty at THE [OLD] LIBRARY during the afternoon and evening, and since tomorrow would be ‘Whip Me Wednesday’, she didn’t think she could visit with a pastor with who-knows how many bruises and whip marks on her boobs, therefore, she didn’t think it would be wise to see him later in the day. It also occurred to her that it was good that all this hadn’t happened on Tuesday after ‘Monday Marker Moments’, so she didn’t have to hide or scrub off all the slutty and crude sayings which people wrote on her.

“Uhmm . . . maybe 9 or so Wednesday morning? . . . or, sometime like that?”

“Yes, Kari, that sounds like a good plan . . . I’ve just put you down for tomorrow to meet with him here on Wednesday at the church office at 9 a.m. Thank you.”

“No, I don’t have the foggiest idea what he might want to talk with me about.”

“Maybe he’s gotten wind of the online video of your gangbang?” Joe suggested.

“Ok . . . maybe . . . so why would he want to talk with me about that if he’d seen it?”

“Because he’s jealous that he didn’t get in on the fun and wants to fuck you?”

Kari just looked at him. Joe looked back innocently.

“Yeah, right.”

“Hey, I’m not joking, babe. A friend of mine is a therapist here in the ‘Bible Belt’ and he says that he hears all kinds of stories from his female clients about how their minister seduced them and had long time affairs.”

“Yeah. My ex said that, too.” She sighed. “So, if he comes on to me, what should I do?”

“Well . . . you’ve been fucking everybody else around here. If you decide you want to fuck him, then go right ahead. If you don’t want to, then don’t,” Joe replied.

“So, I should give him a THE [NEW] LIBRARY card, so to speak?” Kari asked.

“Yeah. You wouldn’t want him to grow old and still be illiterate, after all.”

One thing for sure, it wasn’t hard to find a parking space on Wednesday morning, as compared to some Sundays when she’d walked from the parking lot about 3 or 4 hundred yards to get there. She parked in the space labeled “Reserved for the Associate Pastor” just to see if they would give her a ticket or have her car towed. She’d often wondered about that.

When she went into the room labeled “Main Office”, the woman at the desk looked up at the door, rather startled—like she’d been caught with her hand in a cookie jar, so to speak—and rearranged her dress a bit, which seemed to Kari to be an effort to cover her rather large bosom more carefully.

“Hello . . . may I help you?”

“Hi. I’m Kari.”

“Well, hello, Kari and God Bless you,” the secretary said, as though she had to catch her breath somewhat.

“Uhmm . . . apparently you--or someone from this office said I had an appointment with the pastor.”

“Oh, YES! . . . Kari . . . yes, yes, yes . . . I’m sorry, I was thinking about one of the calls I need make for the Pastor. He will be with you in a moment. He’s been a bit busy this morning.”

Kari found that to be a bit curious. Busy? The parking lot was empty, except for her own and three other cars.

“Please have a seat and I will let him know that you are here.”

“Thank you . . . uhmm . . ., “ looking at her curiously.

“Oh! . . . I’m so VERY sorry . . . my name is Cassandra.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Kari replied, with the cold voice of Southern courtesy of a woman who was not at all pleased. She rarely used that voice, but something was weird about this whole thing, so it just came out in that tone. Cassandra smiled back in a similarly fake manner. Kari took a seat, wondering if she’d wasted her time in even attempting to respond to this present request.

Cassandra typed a few words, and wrote on a pad beside her keyboard . . . and then reached up and wiped her fingers between her boobs . . . and then, without looking up, she licked her fingers and then wiped whatever was left onto her face and neck, rubbing it in as though it was lotion. Kari thought that was rather odd. And, it looked like she had bruises on her boobs, too.

The pastor came out of his office and walked over to Kari, with a wide smile and a hand outstretched. “Kari? Hi—nice to see you. Thank you for coming in.”

“Uhmm . . . it was really no problem.”

“I’m glad. Come on into my office and please make yourself at home. Would you like some coffee? Or, a soda? There are some donuts, too.” Kari followed him into his office, wondering what all this was about.

“No thank you. I brought in the water bottle I’ve been sipping this morning.” She sat down in one of the chairs facing his desk. Pulling up his $700-ish wool suit pants a few inches, he turned and sat on the edge of the front of his desk, with one of his legs partially up, facing her smiling.”

“So, how have you been doing?”

“Fine, thank you,” Kari replied cautiously.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I asked for you to stop by.”

“Well, yes . . . I have been wondering that, sir.”

“Please call me ‘Charles’. Your Sunday School teacher sent me a note that he hadn’t seen you for some weeks—several months, actually--and I couldn’t remember seeing you in the morning worship services either—so, we thought we’d check in with you to see if there is a problem or if you have needs which we could help with which we’ve overlooked.”

“Thank you, but no . . . I’ve just been busy with my new job.” Kari thought it was rather unusual for him to ask for a face-to-face meeting just because she’d missed Sunday School.

“New job? . . . Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a new job. You’re a librarian at the San Antonio public library system, aren’t you? Or, at least, you were before the job change.”

“I was previously, yes.”

“It’s a very fine library . . . I’ve used it on occasion when I’m preparing my sermons.” Kari thought that was very odd—mostly because she’d never seen him set foot in the library she had worked in. “So, if it’s not too forward of me to ask, what is your new job situation?”

“I am now working in a private library.”

“I see. Sort of a parallel move or a move up?”

“Uhmm . . . I’d say it’s a move up, but now we don’t really have those kinds of roles. I’m not supervising others—I’m just the only trained librarian there.” Kari thought it wouldn’t be wise to mention that people came in just for the fun of jerking off on her face or playing with her boobs when she was topless or fucking her on Free Fuck Fridays.

“So, how do you like it?”

“It’s great. I am enjoying it.” Kari wondered where he was going with that.

“So, you’ve been required to work on Sundays have you?”

‘Well, it’s more like I’ve been planning things for the new expansion, so I’ve been very busy all the time, really.”

“This sounds very interesting. May I ask who your new employer might be?”

“Well . . . Wendy Marcella.”

“Wendy Marcella! . . . wow! . . . the billionaire?”

“Yes.”

“I’m very impressed!”

“She’s a . . . a friend of mine . . . and her personal secretary, Josie . . . she’s a friend, too.”

“Wow! . . . Friends in high places! . . . <chuckle> . . . Forgive me if I am mistaken, but isn’t that the woman that The Butler Lady works for?”

“Lisa? . . . yes.”

“You know her?”

“Yes, very well. After all, we work together now.”

“I see! . . . I’m impressed. The Butler Lady caught all of our attention for awhile there. Primetime news. . . . Oh, that’s right! You were in the video on the news when she went to court and they almost gave her a medal!”

Kari nodded, still wondering where all this was going. If he’d seen her on TV, then he’d already known that she knew Lisa.

“Did you happen to know the librarian she mentioned . . . who had that horrible rape experience?”

Kari looked away and took a deep breath. “Well, yes.”

“Were you close to her? . . . friendship-wise, I mean.”

Kari closed her eyes.

“Here we go again, chickie,” she said sarcastically to her slutself.

“Bonsai!”

“Thanks.”

“Just think of it as one of those fun things like bungee jumping. It’s like you’re on vacation and you want to do something new.”

“But, it’s NOT new. As I just said, this is a re-run of the last time I felt like I had to confess my deep dark secrets.”

“Maybe you should just schedule a press release and see if it makes it to prime-time. It would save you the jump, because everyone would know already and you wouldn’t have to confess all the time.”

“Thanks. You’re a lot of help.”

“Next payday, I’m going to ask you for a raise on the grounds that I have to put up with all that sarcasm.”

“What about all the sarcasm I have to put up with from you?”

“That’s different. Sometimes it’s the only way to get your attention. All in the line of duty.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve asked a painful question,” Charles the pastor said to her apologetically.

“Well . . . it’s not really painful. It’s just that . . . well . . . it was me.”

“It was you?” he asked incredulously. “I’m sorry to hear that!” He moved the other armchair closer to hers and sat down next to her and putting his hand on top of her hand. “I’m so very sorry to hear that. I didn’t know.”

Kari looked at him, feeling a bit intruded upon. His hand actually felt a bit greasy, like he’d used lots of lotion or mineral oil recently. Her thoughts jumped to the image of his secretary licking ‘whatever’ off of her fingers from her boobs.

“Do you need to talk about it?”

“Uhmm . . . no, I don’t think so.”

“I see,” he said, patting the top of her hand. Kari just looked at him, still wondering what this conversation was all about.”

“Of course! He used mineral oil on his cock when he jerked off on her boobs. She must like the taste of cum, and likes it on her skin, so she rubbed it in. And he maneuvered you to tell him that you’d been raped,” her slutself tossed in.

“For what?”

“He’s horny . . . can’t you sense it? He probably gets off on having sex with brunette divorced bi-sexual rape-survivors or something. Maybe he’s into threesomes with his secretary.”

“So, you’re saying he’s hitting on me like Joe suspected?”

“I’d say ‘DUH!’, but you get all huffy when I say stuff like that. Stacy could say that to you and you wouldn’t mind.”

“That’s because it’s how the teenagers talk like nowadays.”

“Well, you’ve been re-living your horny teenager fantasies, so why not just talk like them? You’ve always wanted to have that kind of freedom.”

Kari blinked. “Yeah, you’re right. But, right now, what do I do with this guy?”

“<Sigh> . . . ok . . . do you know how little boys have penises and little girls have vaginas . . .”

“Oh, shut up!”

“Yes, ma’am, Ma’am.”

“Ok . . . is there anything else we can do to help?”

“No, thank you,” Kari said.

He stood up and moved around to the other side of his desk, sitting in his high-backed chair and clicking a few things with his mouse on the computer, the monitor turned so Kari couldn’t see it.

“Well, there is one other little thing that I wanted to ask you about.”

“Ok,” Kari said, again quite cautiously. “What’s that?”

He turned the monitor toward her so she could see the main screen. The video he had playing was the video of her gangbang with the football team.

For once, Kari didn’t blush—at least, not right away. This time, she was both still curious about what he wanted and a bit angry that he had been trying to maneuver her throughout the conversation. She looked at the video for a minute or so, and then shrugged, without saying a word.

“So . . . uhmm . . . have you turned to a life of sin?”

“Where did you find this video?”

“A friend of mine showed it to me . . . a church member who was concerned that you might be struggling with your faith.”

Kari knew bullshit when she heard it—and this was exactly that. “I don’t believe you. I think you were looking at porn and stumbled across it. I know all about pastors and their sexual deviance. After all, my dad was a minister, too, you know. And he was one of the worst perverts around. So, what is it that you want?”

He looked at her and pursed his lips, his brow wrinkling in thought. A long silence followed.

“Just so you know, I think you’re screwing around with your secretary, because she had cum all over her boobs when I arrived, and she was all hot an’ bothered, distracted by something. She wiped something off of her cleavage with her finger and licked it. I doubt she keeps her boobs soft with corn syrup.”

He blinked a couple of times, grimacing in exasperation.

“If she’s your sex slave, you should give her a good whipping for revealing your secret. So, what do you want? Did you think that I’d just give you a free blowjob just to keep your mouth shut about the gangbang? Do you have threesomes with her and your wife, or are you fucking around behind your wife’s back?”

“Did I do that the way you wanted?” Kari asked her slutself.

“Huh? This is all your doing, babe. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“You’re kidding! I thought you were prompting me.”

“Nope. Good show, though. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks—I think,” Kari replied wryly.

He sat looking at her without reply, until suddenly the side door into his office banged open and his wife, Cynthia, walked out, her face livid with anger. “Get that slut in here and whip her ass good!” she said to Charles.

“Now, wait a minute, baby. I . . . “

“Oh, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DO AS I TOLD YOU, DICK-FOR-BRAINS!”

He went pale and swallowed hard. “Ok.”

“And I want to see you drag her in here by her hair and rip her clothes off! And, if YOU don’t whip her hard enough—I FUCKING WILL!”

“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury, like a woman scorned,” Kari thought, remembering the quote.

Charles swallowed again and got up, walking to the door. He disappeared from view and then returned literally dragging Cassandra by her hair. She had obviously heard Cynthia’s angry shouts, so she didn’t even try to protest. One of her high heeled shoes came off and laid there on the plush carpet only a couple of feet from the door, and the friction pulled on her pantyhose until they were torn off of her heel. He threw her down in front of Kari, and began tearing her clothes off, first by pulling her blouse open and then pulling her skirt off downward over her legs.

Her boobs popped out over her very thin bra as Cynthia walked over to her and looked down at her, slapping Cassandra very hard across the face, hard enough to bring tears to her eyes and a blush handprint on her cheek which quickly grew more and more vivid. Then she reached between her boobs and pulled her bra off, snapping the clasps as though nothing was really holding it in place. Cassandra’s large boobs jiggled as she looked up in fear at Cynthia. As Kari had suspected, she clearly had bruises on her tits.

“Did you think that wouldn’t find out that you were fucking around with Charles, bitch?” Cynthia asked her, as she grabbed her by the boobs, her long fingernails digging in.

“No, Sis. I mean, I . . . “

“Sis?” Kari thought to herself. “They are sisters?”

“You fucking slut! We worked so hard to get to the point where we have money and get to live in a real house instead of a trailer park and you announce it to everyone. That would get Charles fired, you idiot! And we’d lose everything!”

“But, he’s . . . been fucking everyone he could talk into it . . . he’s been having affairs with all the bored housewives in the church who come to see him for ‘counseling’! I can show you all his notes about when he’s going to meet with them at the motel or when their husbands are out of the country and all that. I swear it! I’m not making this up! It’s in my desk.”

Cynthia looked at her. “Ok, then go get it, and if what you’re telling me is not true, then you’d better just start running away, even as naked as you are.”

“I swear it. I’ll go get it and bring it back, I promise.”

“Ok, go get it and bring it to me.”

She got up and staggered out to her desk wearing only one of her 3-inch black heels and matching black French-cut panties, returning with a steno pad, handing it over to Cynthia. Cynthia looked down at the dated entries, then flipped the page . . . and again, her eyes tracking down each page, reading what her sister had written. As Kari watched, she saw her face grow more and more angry, until Cynthia slapped the pad back into her sister’s bosom. Then she turned toward Charles, her eyes ablaze with fury.

“Now, wait a minute, baby. . . . I don’t have any idea what she had written in that notepad, but you can’t possibly believe that I would . . . “

She slapped him in the face. “You’re a fucking asshole! YOU FUCKING IDIOT!” She said through clenched teeth. “You’re risking everything we worked so hard for! So, shut up! You’ve been lying to me for these last 3 years.”

He looked down like a kid caught cheating on a test. His mouth opened and closed, but clearly it was very hard for him to think of anything to say. “I’m sorry, dear,” he said lamely.

“Don’t call me ‘dear’, you idiot. I should divorce you, but that would ruin things, too.” Turning, she looked at Kari. “And why were you trying to blackmail Kari?”

Then to Kari, she said. “This makes us all look like fools, doesn’t it?” Her voice had softened somewhat, but Kari could see that she was still very angry. “Maybe we are fools,” she answered herself, turning away clearly embarrassed, “just . . . stupid fools.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It makes you look a lot more human in some ways. I’ve done some pretty wild things, too. And sex is a very complicated issue.” Turning to Charles, “But, I’m curious, too. What were you trying to blackmail me to do?”

He looked rather abashed. “I’m didn’t have anything really planned. Your mom put me up to this conversation anyway. I really didn’t know how to handle it in the first place. I don’t know anything about counseling.”

“My MOM?”

“Yeah. She came in and said that a friend of your dad’s found some videos and pictures of you doing ‘unspeakable things’ and she told me to call you in to account for your actions. She said she wished that flogging and putting you naked in stocks was an option these days.”

“So, how did you find that video?”

“You were right . . . I was watching porn . . . I’d actually already seen that video by the time your mom came in. I . . . am . . . uhmm . . . a paying member of that website. I’ve seen all of your videos.” Kari could see he had decided to just tell the truth. “You’re very sexy. I’ve . . . uhmm . . . lusted . . . over you since the first video I saw of you.”

“So, what about our marriage, you cheater!? You’ve been fucking around all over the place—except me! You haven’t had sex with me for several months! Aren’t I good enough for you? Or, slutty enough for you?”

Though she’d said it from her anger, Kari could see panic in her eyes over being rejected, and what it might mean.

“Uhmm . . . maybe it’s the other way around. I think you’re too good for me . . . or too strong anyway. You intimidate me.” Cynthia closed her eyes, and turned her head away, rubbing her forehead in confusion.

Cassandra was sitting in a chair wearing only her panties, looking down at the floor, as Cynthia opened her eyes and turned to her, “And YOU! You whore! . . . you’re my sister, and you’ve turned down tons of dates, but instead, you’ve been fucking my husband behind my back.”

“I’ve been in love with Chuck since I was just a young girl. But, you’re a lot stronger than I am, and you pushed your way into your marriage. I’m a submissive—you know that—I didn’t know what to do. So, when he let me know he was available, I couldn’t turn him down. You had stopped having sex with me when you married Chuck, so I just couldn’t stop myself,” Cassandra confessed in a teary voice, but it seemed to Kari that she was trying, at least, to be open.

Charles’ eyes opened wide at that remark.

“You mean you and your sister were having lesbian sex before we married? Incest?”

Cynthia sighed and sat down in the other chair, covering her eyes with one hand. There was a long and very uncomfortable silence. She finally dropped her hand, took a deep breath and blew it out, “Yes.”

“That’s why I can’t cum unless you hurt me and humiliate me, Chuck,” Cassandra said. “She has been whipping my tits and cunt, and all kinds of kinky things for most of my life. In the trailer park, we had the same bedroom, so I couldn’t get away from her. She is 6 years older than me, so when she started puberty, I was only about 7. She started making me do things to her, even before I knew anything about sex or anything like that. Then, several years later, she started calling me a slutty whore and hurting me, sitting on my face and all that while she made me cum.”

“You didn’t ask for help?” Charles asked her.

“Actually, I did ask for help. Mom was either at work or drunk, so I knew she wouldn’t help me. It was just the three of us. So, I went next door to an older man and his wife and told them about it, asking them to help me. In front of his wife, the guy just shrugged and said that it was none of their business, and his wife agreed with that. But, the next day, he came over and talked with Cynthia about it. After that, he started coming over and tying me up and helping Cynthia do whatever she wanted to do—and of course, he made me suck and fuck him whenever he wanted. So, eventually, I just came to believe that was my destiny . . . that’s just the way life is going to be. I’m just a cheap trailer trash fuck.”

“He was fucking me, too,” Cynthia said in a voice which could only be called ‘despair’. The old guy, I mean. He was the one who put me onto the whole idea when it all started, when I started my periods and you were only 7. He told me how to do all that, and then I would go over there the next day while his wife was at work and he’d fuck me while I told him what I’d done to you.”

“You’re talking about Richard and Molly, aren’t you?” Charles asked.

“Yes,” Cynthia and Cassandra chorused.

“Well, do you remember their niece that lived in the next row? Two trailers down from our trailer?” Charles asked.

“Yeah . . . she was in her late twenties or so, living with her dad, who had emphysema—the one who was pregnant all the time. I think her name was Terry or something like that?” Cynthia said.

“Yeah, her dad was Molly’s brother. . . . Anyway, Terry decided to teach me all about sex, so she started fucking me when I was 14—and she was 27,” Charles said. “And she was into kinky sex, so she was always goading me, pushing me to show I was a man . . . to slap her tits and fuck her harder . . . stuff like that. She liked to fuck 3 or 4 times a week.” His eyes were plaintive and confused. “I . . . uhmm . . . looking back . . . I think that confused me quite a bit. . . . Confused me a lot, in fact.”

He blew out a breath and coughed. “All I can do now is . . . well, always feel inadequate and powerless about sex . . . and . . . uhmm . . . pray that none of her pregnancies . . . I mean . . . I just hope none of them are my . . . uhmm . . . “ He left the obvious hanging, and there was another long silence, as all of these things soaked in. But, he while he said it with pain-strickened eyes, he still looked directly at Cynthia and Cassandra.

“Sounds like all of us are confused about these kinds of things,” Kari said, somewhat timidly. “Like sex and relationships and all that, I mean.”

They all looked at each other, their pain unhidden, and the sense of battle between them faded away.

“Kari . . . I don’t know what your plans are about telling anyone about this, but I do appreciate your patience and gentleness with us. This is like . . . uhmm . . . one of the worst days of my life,” Cynthia said softly, unable to even look at her, her face blushed and tense, lines of stress across her forehead. “I’m so embarrassed, I could crawl under the floor.” Charles had a haunted look, and Cassandra was just sitting there crying silently, still dressed only in her panties and one heel, her tears dripping down onto her bruised boobs and then on down onto her naked thighs.

Kari swallowed and took a deep breath. “It sounds like you need some help.”

“Yes, we do,” they all three said, almost in unison.”

“Well . . . I could ask Wendy to meet with you . . . and we can see what choices there are.”

Cynthia, Chuck and Cassandra looked at each other.

“Well . . . it’s worth a try . . . at the very least, we’d get to meet a billionaire,” Cassandra offered.

“She may not want to waste the time on us,” Chuck said.

“Well, one thing for sure. If you tell the truth and not try to hide what you’ve done wrong, she will listen to you and in all of those times when I’ve seen people do that, she has always tried to find solutions for the problems that anyone has brought to her. She’s done that with me, too, so that’s the only thing I can offer you. . . . no, wait . . . I can also offer that I won’t talk with anyone else in public about what happened today—except that I will tell my . . . uhmm . . . intimate partners. Like The Butler Lady, Lisa . . . Joe. Wendy. Josie. Stacy. Jacquie. I don’t hide anything from them, but they won’t talk to anyone in public either. We all have secrets which the public doesn’t need to know. I’m not going to start a rumor mill or public scandal about this, I promise. Wendy and Josie have almost the highest security clearance in the U.S. government, except for the nuclear level. We don’t talk about people’s secret things outside.”

“Thank you, Kari,” Charles said, with what sounded to Kari like authentic sincerity.

“It’s the only shot we’ve got,” Cynthia said. Cassandra didn’t say anything aloud, just remained bowed on her folded hands, looking like she was praying, which very likely was the truth.

“Sure, Kari. I’ll be happy to meet with them. So, you say it’s rather urgent?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s a pretty difficult situation. One that will require your help, or else they will likely . . . God help us, to prevent . . . shall I say . . . ‘crash and burn’.”

“Yes. I agree with your prayer, and I do hope that God will help us. I’ll postpone some meetings tomorrow afternoon, and send Lisa out to pick them up in time for a 3pm meeting if that will work for them.”

“She said she can meet with you at 3pm, and Lisa will come and pick you up in time for that.”

“We accept, and thank her for us, please,” Charles said.

Other than adjusting the food serving appliances, the conservatory was still pretty much set up for meetings or interviews, so that’s where they met after Lisa had picked them up in the limo-van. Kari had gone with her, because she wasn’t sure if they would get caught up in talking with “The World Famous Butler Lady” and then arrive with Wendy in confusion. But they didn’t say a lot on the drive over to the mansion, which Kari thought was likely the product of their embarrassment about the whole situation. She wondered if they had even gotten any sleep the whole night, not to mention all the grief that their whole life was apparently coming unraveled right before their very tired eyes.

Of course, each of them knew that their own actions were the cause of the present crisis, a point which they clearly regretted. Kari knew all about that, having regretted numerous choices in her own life already.

Wendy herself met them at the door and welcomed them in. They were a bit in awe about the mansion, of course, but Kari thought they were mostly in awe that it was Wendy who personally met them at the door, wearing only casual clothes, a simple blouse and Capri-style jeans. “Please have a seat,” Wendy said, as she ushered them into the area where previously they had hosted the Channel 4 News Team.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” all three of them said, and Kari thought for a moment that Cassandra was about to bow on her knees before Wendy, but she managed to take a seat without any untoward movements. Katie and Krystal served them gracefully while they settled into their places, still in shock from having been ushered in by a billionaire. Wendy had the power to make or destroy people’s lives--yet, she gracefully welcomed them into her own house (well, mansion) in person.

“Kari has told me that you are in need of some help, and since I trust her judgment about such things way up there with the sun and the moon and the stars in the heavens, I am very willing to listen to what is happening in your lives. As you also know as Kari has told you, I am quite willing to help if I can. So, please tell me what has brought us all to this moment and this meeting with all of you.” Kari blushed at her compliment and smiled at her.

“Uhmm . . . this is very embarrassing . . . for all three of us,” Charles said.

“Well, is there any way that we can reduce the pain of that embarrassment? I certainly have been embarrassed many times in my life, and so, I will gladly do anything I can—if it is within my power to do so—to make you feel more at home and welcome, and without regret about this conversation and what it means about your life.”

“Grace.” Charles said quietly.

“I’m sorry?” Wendy asked.

“Uhmm . . . I’m not a very good theologian, but I do believe in ‘grace’. It’s just that I haven’t found it very often. If I’m not mistaken you have offered exactly that—‘grace’. I can’t imagine a better definition of experiencing grace than ‘to feel at home and welcome, and without regret about this conversation and what it means about your—that is, our--life’. Thank you for that grace . . . for your grace with us.”

Wendy spread her hands and smiled again. “Mi casa es su casa. My house is your house, as our Hispanic friends have taught us.. As Kari’s friends, you are my friends as well. Whenever you’re ready, please tell me how I might help you.”

Several times during the silence which followed, Kari thought that each of them had tried to speak, but they could not find the words to say.

“Uhmm . . . Ma’am, our hesitance is that we probably don’t deserve your help.” Cynthia finally replied, “and, we certainly don’t deserve being considered among those who are friends with Kari. We haven’t been very good to her, which I can now see was a grave mistake.”

“Please let me be the judge of that . . . if you don’t mind, please just tell me the story of what has happened, and we’ll go from there.”

“Yes, Ma’am. . . . uhmm . . . ”

“Please just call me Wendy . . . and if it helps, just pretend I was the best neighbor you ever had.”

“Well, actually . . . uhmm Wendy, Ma’am . . . our neighbors were not very good neighbors . . . at least in the trust and respect sense . . . “

“Hence, the beginning of your story—please continue,” Wendy encouraged. Kari thought later, that she’d never heard anyone be more graceful in helping people tell their story in such an uncomfortable situation. No wonder people listened when she spoke.

They finally stuttered out the whole story . . . and Josie was in tears by the end of it. Kari could tell that Wendy wasn’t far behind.

“I’m quite moved by your story—it’s very sad that all of you were abused when you were young, and no place to go for help all these years. And, so you’ve have been struggling all this time to get the love you want and need. But, what happened to you has kids confused everything—mostly because it was hidden,” Wendy commented. “It was even hidden from you—at least, in terms of what it meant. So, now you’re at a place when you must change. That’s very difficult.”

Lisa overheard the whole story, since she had been standing next to the charcoal embrasure where Joe was searing some shish kabob and bratwurst to go with the beer his cousin had brewed for Rosh Hashanah—the Jewish new year celebration that evening. (His cousin wasn’t Jewish, but he thought it would be a good drink to go with the occasion and a good excuse to have a big party, anyway.) Kari could see that Lisa found their story very sad, too. Joe seemed preoccupied with cooking, so Kari wasn’t sure what he felt about it.

“Well, then we dug our own hole. I’ve had all those affairs with women in the church, and I’ve fouled up my marriage with Cynthia, and I don’t know what to do with the fact that Cassandra and I have become lovers, too. I can see that all this can only result in a big scandal, and we’d lose everything.”

“It’s my fault,” Cynthia said. “I know I’ve been really pushy with you. I just didn’t want to stay the rest of my life in that trailer park with nothing.”

“No, it’s my fault. I’m just a cheap trailer park whore, and I couldn’t stop myself from being slutty with Chuck,” Cassandra said.

“It seems clear that you’re all just blaming yourself. I don’t think that’s going to help much, although it’s good that you’re owning up to your part of the responsibility,” Wendy said. “It’s actually amazing that you’re still in this together after all of that. So, what do you think needs to be done now?”

“I’m going to have to resign and find another job before it all blows up.” Charles said, sighing deeply but honestly. “We’re past the point of no-return.”

Cynthia sighed, tears coming to her eyes. “We’re gonna’ lose everything.” Cassandra wept silently with her.

“Let me see . . . Charles, you are good at public speaking, aren’t you?” Wendy asked.

“Yes, he’s very good,” Kari said, before he could respond. “I didn’t know about his personal problems before all this, but when he’s preaching, he’s very good.”

“I’ve been thinking that I need to hire a good spokesperson for the political part of what I do. I can’t keep up with all of it by myself.”

“I think I’d like to try that. It sounds very interesting, a challenge. I’ve been feeling very much in over my head as the pastor of that big of a church. I’ve just been hiding my inadequacy. Maybe that’s why I was having sex with so many of the lonely women—it was a way to feel important. Because the truth is, I don’t feel that way.”

“Maybe it was a way to get out of the situation—sort of an unconscious sabotage maneuver,” Wendy mused.

“Maybe—but, that way would be a pretty bad way out.”

“Yes, if it continues, it will likely end badly. . . . But, we should talk that over in more detail in order to avoid that becoming a pattern. I do need someone who can handle speaking in public, so if you’re interested, I’m willing to give you a try. And, uhmm . . . Cynthia—I don’t know your experience, but I’m willing to bet that we could find a job for you here. For one thing, I’m going to need to hire more staff for THE NEW LIBRARY to work with Kari—however, you’ll need to keep in mind that it’s intended to be an adult environment with sexual themes. If you’re not interested in that, then we can find a place within my organization where you can fit.”

Cassandra looked up with panic in her eyes. “And, for you, too, Cassandra,” Wendy said. “The only problem I can see with all of you working here is if you’ll be fighting over Chuck.”

“Oh, I don’t think I really feel bad that my sister is fucking my husband . . . excuse my language. I think I’ve just been scared that everything would blow up and I’d be back in the trailer park, with nothing—empty and surrounded by defeated people. I can’t bear to even think of that.”

“Really?” Cassandra asked. “I mean . . . you aren’t mad at me because I . . . uhmm . . . had sex with Chuck?”

“Not really, no . . . I’d just give anything to make sure we don’t go back to poverty. In fact, I think I’d like to be with the two of you sometimes. My sexual needs haven’t been met for a long time.”

“Well, one thing for sure. This is a sexual place—we’re very open about sex. In fact, THE NEW LIBRARY has sexual themes each day. Cassandra . . . uhmm . . . it sounds like you enjoy having a lot of kinky sex, so you could help Kari. She even has a table and a sign which says ‘Slut on Duty’,” Wendy said, giggling just a bit.

“Really? That sounds like fun,” Cassandra replied.

“Kari can tell you all about it. . . . But, do you two need some help with your marriage?” Wendy asked, looking at Charles and Cynthia. “I’ll be willing to pay for you to get some marriage therapy if you need it.”

“Thank you, but, no . . . I don’t think so. I’m willing to back off and work things out,” Cynthia said. “I’ve been too pushy, I know. I think the only thing I would ask is that if you have sex with someone else, to include me, too,” she said to Charles.

“I think that will work,” he answered. “But, I am sorry that I messed things up so much, dear. I do love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replied.

“And, I love Cassandra, too.”

“Yeah . . . me, too,” Cynthia said, looking at her sister.

“We’ll have to find a new place to live,” Cynthia continued rather morosely, after a thoughtful pause.

“Well, if you want, you can rent one of the apartments on the third floor of the new wing when it’s finished. Josie and I planned for some of THE NEW LIBRARY staff to have housing. We could work out a deal to have it be a part of your salary and benefits package,” Wendy put in.

“It would be a short commute—just walk downstairs or take the elevator, and you’ll be at work,” Josie said, grinning.

“That might work. And, I might be interested in being the ‘Slut on Duty’ at times, too,” Cynthia added.

Kari looked thoughtful. “If I have understood your story, you’re a dominant in sexual things, so we could even have ‘Mistress Monday’ as a theme alternating with “Marker Moments Monday’. You could have a crop and a whip and have fun dominating the patrons who come in wanting that.”

“Wow! That sounds great! When do we start?”

“The new wing is scheduled to be open in about 3 weeks,” Josie said. “Ok, so if you want to go in that direction, we need to discuss salary and so on.”

“Yeah . . . we do. I don’t think I’ll last much longer as a pastor,” Charles said.

“And, wherever he goes, I’m going. I love him, even if I’m not his wife,” Cassandra said, glancing up at her sister, with fear in her eyes.

Cynthia looked at her sadly. “I’m sorry, Sis. I didn’t know. We’ll work something out.”

The news of Charles resignation almost made the local evening news, but even though it wasn’t aired, most everyone in San Antonio heard about it. In his announcement, effective two weeks later, he gave out very little information in terms of the reasons, as guided by Wendy and Josie. “They don’t have to know why. Don’t give them ammunition to attack you.”

Unfortunately, the various women in the church who he’d had sex with over the past 3 years felt the need to call in and ask for an appointment. Charles had to apologize over and over, as well as affirming them as beautiful and sexy women. In his final two sermons, he did manage to fit in the story of some people he knew who were welcomed by a very powerful person and about her effort to, quote: “make you feel more at home and welcome, and without regret about this conversation and what it means about your life”, end of quote, as an excellent example of grace.

“One thing for sure,” he said to Cynthia and Cassandra, “you won’t have to worry about me screwing around ever again. This week has been worse than brutal. I have even been tempted to cut my chest with the letter ‘A’”

“No, don’t do that . . . but if you ever fuck around again behind my back, I’ll do it for you,” Cynthia said. “Except with Cassandra, I mean. And if I do it, you won’t have much of your chest left. Or, I could turn you over to The Butler Lady.”

“I know. . . . reminds me of that congressman, during the Clinton scandal—Representative Dick Armey ‘If I were in the President's place I would not have gotten a chance to resign. I would be laying in a pool of my own blood, hearing Mrs. Armey standing over me saying, "How do I reload this damn thing?".”

“Yeah . . . that’s pretty much how it would go.”

“Babe?”

“Yes?”

“I think I’d gotten confused that you only cared about a big house and social success. It’s good to know that you care that much about . . . uhmm . . . us.”

“I think I got confused about that, myself—in my fear about living in poverty all my life. But, as for caring about us, you better believe it. And you’d better care about us, too, or it’s going to be a problem between us.”

“I know that. But, I already care deeply about you and Cassandra, so you don’t have to motivate me.”

After a lengthy discussion with Josie about the details of jobs and apartment benefits, all three of them moved into a very nice apartment over THE [NEW] LIBRARY, complete with a new king-sized bed in the Master/Mistress bedroom, an additional bedroom for either Cassandra or one of their guests, large LED televisions on cable and internet in every room, two bathrooms, each with a garden tub and a separate shower, and voice activated lighting and music—the partridge-in-a-pear-tree or mermaid statue sold separately. Kari got the job of showing it to them, and they were very appreciative, indeed.

Cynthia walked very hesitantly into the living room and looked around, shaking her head, “I don’t believe it . . . I can’t believe it,” she whispered, tears appearing and running down her cheek unabashed. Charles looked around thoughtfully, blinking a bit, as though fighting back his own tears. Cassandra was bending forward slightly, clasping her hands in front of her, and looking up like Dorothy in The Wizard of OZ, in cautious awe to say the least.

“Toto . . . I’ve a feeling that we’re not in Kansas anymore,” Kari said softly. “I feel that same way about being here, too.” Cassandra looked over to her and smiled, nodding.

Cynthia turned and ran to Charles to catch him up in a hug. “Looks like we made it . . . finally,” he said, over her shoulder. Then, Cynthia turned and hugged her sister with the same amount of enthusiasm, a moving moment if there ever was one.

After giving them a few moments, Kari told them that the refrigerator, freezer and pantry had a selection of food to help them get started, but after that had been used, they would have to buy their own favorite foods, but by that time they would be receiving pay checks in order to be able to do that. The maids had provided bedclothes for the next few days, and she told them that if they needed more, just to call and ask. They discussed when the movers would be moving in the rest of their household items, and they got Josie on the phone to schedule a meeting for all the paperwork for everything . . . tax forms, insurance and retirement, and all that.

“So, when do we start work?” Cassandra asked.

“Well, if you need a few days to get settled, then you can begin after that,” Kari told her.

“Uhmm . . . I think I’d like to get going right away . . . I’m still not quite used to being with both my sister and Chuck at the same time. It will be an adjustment . . . a good one, but still . . . I don’t want to sit around here, wondering what to do with myself.“

“Well, whenever you want to start, just look at my schedule—it’s here on our employee website [showing her]—so, when you get there, we’ll start showing you around, and get you started. Just let me know when you’re coming in, so I’ll be prepared to help you get started. You can leave a message for me either by texting my cell phone or by sending me an email [here]. After you get started, you’ll probably have Melinda or one of the other supervisors scheduling your hours, but I’ll help you get started until then.”

“Thank you.”

“So, if I understood Josie, I’ll be one of the shift supervisors for THE [NEW] LIBRARY restaurant under Joe, the Master Chef, so when do I start with that?”

“Uhmm . . . in case you didn’t know . . . I’m . . . uhmm . . . Joe’s . . . lover, and I live with him in his suite. . . . uhmm . . . with my other lover, Stacie, who is Joe’s cooking apprentice.”

Cynthia raised her eyebrows in surprise . . . then looked sheepish. “I guess we’re not in Kansas anymore . . . and, I’m no longer the wife of big church pastor. This is . . . uh . . . going to take some getting used to.”

“Well, if it helps, just remember that you won’t have to go back to the trailer park,” Kari pointed out, gently.

She just looked at her. “Yeah, you’re right. . . . and this place is more than I ever imagined. It’s really wonderful.”

“But, back to your question about when you start, you’ll have to check with Joe about that. I’m his lover, not his scheduler, so you’ll just need to use the employee website to ask him [showing her how].”

“Thank you, Kari. I’m very grateful for you taking the step to connect us with Wendy and all this,” Cynthia told her.

“You’re quite welcome,” Kari replied. “So, unless any of you have any more questions, I’ll leave you for now.”

Charles came up to her. “You may never know how much we appreciate what you have done . . . but, anyway . . . thank you,” he said to her, his voice hoarse with emotion as he shook her hand. Cynthia just gave her a hug and cried against her shoulder, and Cassandra took her hand and kissed it with her tears dripping onto her fingers.

“<ahem> . . . I’m glad to have been able to help,” Kari replied, feeling their deep emotion. “Please enjoy your new home.”

Cassandra entered the library while Kari was showing a young gal how to use the electronic version of the old ‘card-file’ on the computer in order to research something she was working on. She walked in unobtrusively, as though she was trying to hide, and went to one of the tables and sat down, looking around, blushing just a bit at the erotic paintings and the poster list of the sexual themes for each of the coming days.

“In THE [NEW] LIBRARY, it’s going to be on an LED screen,” Kari told her, having finished helping the young secretary. “How’re you doing, Cassandra?” Kari asked as she patted her on the shoulders from behind, warmly and gently.

“I’m doing ok, I think.”

“You think? . . . as in, you’re not sure?”

She reached up and put her hand on top of Kari’s right hand, smiling up at her. “Yeah, I’m not sure. It’s just been a lot of change in just a few weeks. A month ago, I was the secretary for a big church pastor, and agreeing with church members about the shocking sexual rumors they had heard about each other. Of course, Chuck was fucking me almost every evening like a piece of meat and then just going home to my sister.”

“Yeah, a lot has changed. It was like that for me, too, a year or so ago.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was a prim and proper public librarian with conservative parents—at least in public—and then I got behind on my bills and answered an ad which paid very well—there was a lot of sex involved—and a month or so later, I was the main dish at a bukkake orgy in a strip bar.”

Cassandra blinked and looked at her with an openly shocked expression.

“Of course, the truth was that my mom is a total bitch, and she pushed my dad into coming into my room at night while I was a teenager and jerking off on my face while he made me fuck myself with a hairbrush, or making me suck him off. He kept saying I’d turn out to be a bi-sexual fucktoy and a whore and a slut and that I’d love being used and abused. I finally believed him, so that’s what I am now . . . a pain and humiliation slut, and a nymphomaniac who can’t get enough sex. I got that from wanting to be raped, so since I got raped, everything sexual is in overdrive.”

Cassandra turned around in her chair and looked questioningly at Kari. “Really?”

“Yes. I figured out the reason for that, later, actually.”

“You did? . . . I . . . uhmm,“ Cassandra blushed, “I’ve had fantasies about being raped, wanting to be raped . . . even since . . . uhmm . . . Chuck started fucking me. I never had any idea that I’d ever understand a reason. Do you mind if I ask why?”

“Not at all . . . what I understood was that being raped would make me be seen as ‘damaged goods’, a slut, so after that, if people treated me as a slut and made me have sex—as a submissive—I couldn’t be blamed for it. All my life, it was hammered into me that I couldn’t initiate anything sexual, or I’d be responsible, I’d be to blame for it. So, I screwed up my marriage because I couldn’t be sexual—I had to be forced, or I’d be responsible for being a slut. And in that marriage, with my husband, I became a total bitch and wouldn’t work anything out about it—just like my mom—which finally killed our marriage.”

Cassandra leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, blinking in the way of someone in deep thought. “I think the overlap with me was that when I was so young—7 or 8 or whatever—I was forced to have sex by my own sister, but she was always in control . . . and then when I went to the neighbors and asked for help, they simply joined together to take more control. So, for me, I guess . . . I’ve just never had sex except when someone else is in control, when someone else has the power.” She sighed. “I can’t cum unless someone else is in control . . . and is rough with me and humiliates me and all that. That’s why I haven’t been able to date anyone . . . well, successfully, I mean. I just can’t imagine being in a relationship with anyone who isn’t going to take control of me.”

Kari nodded understandingly. “It’s that way for me, too. I have some . . . well . . . friends who want me to dominate them, but it’s not something I understand. I can manipulate guys to a point, but I really can’t take charge. Not ever. Or, I guess I should say that whenever I have to be in charge, I become the bitch my mom was . . . and I become destructive . . . enraged . . . the part of me which I hate more than I can say. My ex used to say that I was taking charge by sabotaging everything we were trying to do, and maybe he was right. Maybe I did. But, if I actually become the one in charge, I become an impossible bitch, someone I hate . . . so, maybe it’s just another way of living so others have to take responsibility for what happens, I’m not sure. When he tried to be nice and tried to negotiate, it just made me more enraged.”

“I can understand that part. When I used to go out on dates, if the guy was nice and gentle and all that, I’d almost always pick a fight, even though I didn’t know why I was doing that.” She looked exasperated. “I bitched about the food or the movie, or that it was too hot in the car, or that I didn’t like steak or shrimp.”

Kari looked at her with moist eyes. “Yeah, I know that feeling. After my first date with my ex in college, he put up with all that for 3 hours or so, and then he parked the car where he was going to let me off at my apartment and he said, ‘Look, Kari. You’ve complained about everything all evening. I don’t know what’s going on. I took you out with respect, and tried my best to have a good time with you. I took you out for a steak dinner, took a nice walk across the campus and I don’t have the foggiest idea why you were so negative. I’d have to say this is the worst date I’ve ever had, and I’ve really tried my best to be gentle and courteous to you the whole time. So, would you be so kind as to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Oh, my god . . . “ Cassandra commented. “Just like me, even though my dates didn’t know how to even say it. . . . So, what happened?”

“I cried and hid my face . . . and apologized. He said that it was ok, so maybe we could go out again on the next Saturday? I couldn’t say no, because I honestly didn’t think anyone would ever want me. So, I said ok. And so, he started taking me for a walk each evening to the oak tree at the end of the street.”

“The oak tree?”

“Yeah, it had several small stumps so he would sit astride one of them and I would sit on top in front of him, facing away toward the street. At first it was just a game . . . although, I think both of us knew something magical/sexual was happening . . . it may also have been magical love, too, but I don’t think I’ve ever been able to accept that. But he would walk down to the oak tree with me in the dark and we would talk about school and things and . . . he would sit down astride the stump and pull me into his arms from behind.”

“Yes?”

“And he would hug me from behind and hum into my ear . . . he’s a songwriter, so he has a beautiful voice. Back then he was a music student. Since then, he’s produced 6 albums, last I heard. . . . but, that’s not all . . . ”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he would slide his hands from the back down my sides . . . and sneak underneath my blouse, and he played with my boobs from the side, you know . . . squishing them together, rubbing up and down . . . and <ahem> . . . yeah. After a couple of those nights, I used to make a point of wearing the in-stylish bib-overalls I had so he could . . . uhmm . . . “

“Yeah . . . I can see where that would lead,” Cassandra said, a glint of remembrance in hers eyes as she also relived some enticing moments from the past. “I remember in high school one of the football players who had a steady girlfriend used to tease me about my big boobs when she wasn’t around. So, I used to wear tank-tops under my other blouses and shirts, so I wouldn’t get in trouble for violating the dress code, but when we were alone, I’d unbutton my shirt, you know . . . to show my cleavage,” she described with a giggle. “Then one day in the parking lot, he just reached out and pulled my tank-top down and my bra and played with my boobs. My nipples were so hard, it was embarrassing. He got a little rough, twisting them, although it wasn’t as hard as I was used to, actually—but he didn’t know that. I just stood there and let him do it, and I got so turned on, I could barely talk.

“He told me to meet him in the parking lot—and he always parked his car in the far corner, so there was less chance the teachers would see us. The next day, I obeyed him and he looked at my blouse buttons, and I just unbuttoned them, like I knew he wanted. Then he did the same thing, just pulled my boobs out and played with them. That went on for a couple of days, and then after I’d unbutton my blouse, he just looked at me and well, gestured, you know—like, ‘keep going.’ So, I pulled my tank-top and bra down myself. After that, he made me open my pants and slide them down to my ankles. My panties were wet, of course, so I just stood there blushing, feeling like a slut.

“He told me to wear a dress, or a skirt the next day. Of course, I obeyed, so this time, he had me pull my straps down and show him my boobs, and then to lift my dress. I did, and then he told me to give him my panties. . . . I did that, too, of course.

“The next day, I didn’t know what he wanted me to wear, so I wore another dress. He seemed pleased with me about that, had me take my boobs out as usual, and then opened his car door and pushed down his pants so his hard cock was out. He sat down on the driver’s seat with his legs still on the ground, his hard-on sticking straight up, and told me to use my panties to jerk him off. So, I did. He told me to put them on again, so I did that, too, of course—I was his slut after all and he could tell me to do anything. Then he said he had to go take his girlfriend out to dinner, so he’d see me again the next day. He drove around the high school parking lot to the front of the school, picked her up and took off. Leaving me with my panties filled with his cum and my boobs out.”

“I’ll bet that was humiliating to you,” Kari said.

“Oh, yeah. Very much so,” she said in a very aroused voice. “The next day, instead of jerking him off with my panties, he told me to suck him off. Then, after he came in my mouth, he took off to take his girlfriend to a dance.”

“So, uhmm . . . maybe we should change the subject before we both start masturbating . . . although, I’d like to hear more of your story when I’m not working . . . where would you like to start with the Library?” Kari said, waving at her flushed face from the stories of making out.

“I was very interested in the . . . “Slut on Duty” . . . uhmm . . . assignment, actually. Cynthia and Chuck have been sorting stuff from their house, and I didn’t have that much to sort. So . . . in short, I’m very horny,” she said with a shy giggle.

“Ah . . . that makes sense, after your story . . . well, you chose a good day to start then. It’s Fuck Me Friday, so if you want to sit at that desk over there <pointing>, and whenever the next patron comes in wanting to . . . uhmm . . . take advantage of the theme for the day, then you’re open for business—so to speak,” she told her, grinning.

“I’m open, alright,” Cassandra replied, smiling.

“And, I have a suggestion. While you’re waiting, why don’t you type out that story about the football guy in high school and how he used you . . . we can project it onto the overhead so patrons can watch an erotic writer in action. In THE [NEW] LIBRARY, we’ll have numerous LED screens to show things like that. So, we’ll just have to live with the old technology until then.”

“Uhmm . . . I don’t type all that well . . . will they be able to see me typing . . . I mean, AS I’m typing?”

“No . . . unless they’re looking over your shoulder, but your desk is against the wall, so I’m sure you’re safe. As soon as you finish a paragraph—or whatever portion you choose—you can dump it into the projector live-feed. I’ll show you how to do that. So, you can take as long as you want to type it out and proofread it, and then when you are ready to show it, you hit a button, and it’s there on the overhead screen. If it’s too long for the screen, we can have it slowly scroll down. If you don’t want to show your story until you’ve reached the end of the chapter, that’s fine, too. Then after you finish a chapter, or whatever part of the story you choose, we can play it on repeat, scrolling down as it goes.”

Cassandra blushed and clasped her hands. “Oh, that’s wayyyy too cool! . . . show me how!”

Shortly after that, the top of the overhead projection screen on the wall suddenly turned on with the words “WATCH AS AN EROTIC AUTHOR TELLS HER STORY. HERE IN THIS ROOM! NOW! LIVE!”

“I’m a 36 year old slut with rather large boobs, which are very likely the equivalent of a Megatron of erogenous zones, although I wouldn’t want to leave out any of the rest of my body, either. I admit to an almost insatiable need for kinky sex. You may find it interesting that I’m not all that aroused by ordinary vanilla [which is to say ‘non-kinky] sex. But, twist my nipples and spank my ass, tie me up and fuck me until I pass out, or make me walk around the block naked with my panties in my mouth, and I’m your girl. The one secret is that you have to be the one in charge. I’m a true submissive, so I can’t be responsible, so you’ll have to be in charge.”

“But, this story is about some of the experiences from high school, when one of the football players who had a steady girlfriend—he was rather big, played defensive tackle—started to tease me about my big boobs when she wasn’t around. . . .

“So, I used to wear tank-tops under my other blouses and shirts, so I wouldn’t get in trouble for violating the dress code, but when we were alone, I’d unbutton my shirt, you know . . . to show my cleavage . . .

“Then one day in the parking lot, he just reached out and pulled my tank-top down and my bra and played with my boobs. My nipples were so hard, it was embarrassing . . .

“He told me to meet him in the parking lot the next day—and he always parked his car in the far corner, so . . .

“He told me to wear a dress, or a skirt the next day. Of course, I obeyed, so . . .

“The next day, I didn’t know what he wanted me to wear, so I wore another dress . . . his hard-on sticking straight up, and told me to use my panties to jerk him off. So, I did. . . .

“That was sooo humiliating . . . but, arousing all the same—because, after all. I’m a fucktoy, a pain and humiliation slut.”

“END OF CHAPTER ONE” and a picture of Cassandra smiling at the webcam appeared, with the familiar sign “SLUT ON DUTY” behind her.

Much to her surprise, because she’d been rather engrossed in writing her story, the group of readers which had gathered in the tables and chairs facing the overhead offered her a rather nice applause, including the occasional “Bravo! We want MORE!”. Since there was a waiting time between overhead paragraphs, they had been playing games and texting and looking things up on the library computers or any of those very-interested-people-things . . . but, after the first paragraph, whenever the next part appeared overhead, they would stop whatever they were doing and read.

As the story continued, some would rub themselves surreptitiously, and several times, some of the women would pull their boobs out over their blouses and bras, and offer them to the nearest co-reader, both male and female. One guy asked for a blowjob from his busty manager sitting nearby after she’d had a few beers, and was well rewarded. Another, a female employee from the grounds-crew took off her uniform pants and her panties, thereafter using them (her panties, not her uniform pants) to jerk off her boss while his wife, from the cooking crew, sucked on her pussy.

It didn’t stop there, however, as her fans lined up by the “SLUT ON DUTY” table, and asked for her autograph, usually with a second request, such as “I think you should show us your boobs, since you told us so much about them” or “I want to cum in your panties, so take them off and jerk me like you did to him back then, . . . and by the way, what is your cell phone number?” . . . or, the bitchy woman executive from HR–“I’ve always had the fantasy of using a strap-on to fuck a slutty librarian . . . would you mind? . . . ok, well, I’m going to fuck you anyway . . . so, here goes . . . “

Her erotic story was overhead on auto-repeat, scrolling slowly, with the camera on whoever she was sucking or fucking at that particular moment, so Kari had to intervene after an hour or so. “Please, ladies and gentlemen . . . she needs a break, or we will never get to read CHAPTER TWO.” They chuckled but respected that, and gave Cassandra a break.

She was so high, Kari had a hard time bringing her down . . . her eyes were glazed, almost in REM, her pussy juices dripping down her thighs, and she was so very sensitive to touch, she obviously came when Kari hugged her, since she had no idea how to slow down Cassandra’s sexual energy. Cassandra was so drained from the combinations of her emotional efforts of writing the story and the orgy which had followed, her body temperature seemed very low, so Kari turned to physical skin-to-skin body warmth. Ironically, this was a technique she’d learned from her ex-husband. So, she stripped and wrapped her legs and arms gently around Cassandra and just held her, breathing deeply and trying to soothe her own anxious/excited feelings which she was catching from Cassandra, as it were, like they were contagious, as all feelings are.

“Breathe in and breathe out . . . mostly concentrate on breathing out, because it seems much easier to fill your lungs than to empty them of the ‘dead’ air, but if you empty your lungs, you will breathe back in the best of the best, the oxygen you want and need . . . breathe out all the way, so then what you bring into your lungs is full of oxygen and life . . . yes . . . and again . . . blow out the tension . . . blow it out again, the tension . . . with every breath, relax even more . . . imagine a warm fireplace in the mountains . . . under the quilt on the couch in front of the fireplace, the taste of a warm glass of Burgundy, and another sip . . . the scent of the cedar logs, feeling the snow falling . . . softly . . . softly . . . like a blanket, the touch of our skin together . . . the sight of the blue mountains, so beautiful, so wonderful . . . hearing the crackle of the logs in the fireplace as well as the wind which draws the fire so well up the chimney,” Kari said, not knowing if any of it was getting through to Cassandra, but still trying, still hoping.

Cassandra jerked a bit and then her eyes refocused . . . “OH! . . . Oh! . . . I love you!” and she hugged Kari as though her heart and life depended on it. Perhaps it did, especially this time. It was a new opportunity, and a gateway into a new world, like we all need from time to time.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just to let my readers know, the ASSTR counting log isn’t working for my files, and the ASSTR staff are swamped trying to correct some other problems, so the only evidence that these are being read are the comments. So, please take a moment and send any comments to /files/Authors/SM/Her_New_Name_Series/A_Feedback_Form_For_SM_Stories_Her_New_Name.htm, even if you just want to send “I read it” or something. That way I can have a better idea of how many people are reading these stories. I have appreciated the comments and suggestions some of you have sent, so please continue.

Don’t miss the “Buxom Mother and Daughter Series.” My story folders can be found at:

/files/Authors/SM/

Thanks,

~SM~