Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Heat Wave
Part: 11 of 25
Universe: The Heat Wave
Summary: Meet Cletus Putnam: landlord, entrepreneur, opportunist, sometime
Dom.  It's hotter than Hell and he has the only swimming pool and central
air conditioning in his little lower middle-class neighborhood -- and he's
not above taking advantage of that fact.
Content: MF oral M-dom toys spank

Chapter 11

        Holly finally went home, replete with assurances that she would be
invited back by Kate at a future date to be determined.  Pete wandered into
the kitchen, catching me sitting in a dining chair with his mother's head in
my hands guiding her while she slurped on my meat.  "Um, Kate says we're
moving in."

        "Yeah," I grunted.  "I figure it'll make life simpler, don't you?"

        "Yeah..."  Pete watched his mother stick her nose in my pubes,
bemused.  "Things sure have changed."

        "For the better, I hope," I grunted.

        "Yeah..."

        "If this bothers you..." I offered.

        "I'm starting to get used to it," Pete smiled crookedly, "but it
makes me a little horny."

        I nodded.  "Makes sense.  Shit, we just shipped out the last of the
unaffiliated pussy, didn't we?"

        "Holly?  Yeah.  She doesn't..."

        "Actually, she might.  She gives head."

        "No shit?"

        "She did me."

        "Everybody thinks..."

        "Yeah," I chuckled.  "She's kind of unhappy about that.  Where's
your sister?"

        Pete blinked.

        "I'm just trying to assess the level of privacy," I explained.

        "She went with Holly."

        "Where's Michael?"

        Pete got real cautious.  "He went home -- his momma wanted him to do
some stuff, I think."

        "So that leaves us," I concluded.

        "Yes."

        That left us in a bind.  I had a couple of possibilities -- and
neither of them was exactly the best way to handle things at this juncture.
I could offer to get him off -- which might undermine his new-found
masculinity in front of his mother, not to mention embarrassing him -- or I
could encourage him to fuck Karen.  He would do it -- I'd have done my
mother at his age -- and Karen would allow it -- but it wasn't smart and
might prove equally damaging.  The best solution required a little willpower
on my part....  "We're done here," I told Karen.  "Go on back to what you
were doing when I interrupted you."  She pouted a little so I kissed her
cheek.  "You were doing fine, but I don't want to get Pete all hot and
bothered.  Run along and I'll fuck you later."  I got up and, waving Pete
before me, left the room.

        In the TV room, I settled onto the couch and waved Pete into a
chair.  "Are you okay with what's happening?"

        "You mean moving?" Pete asked.

        "Everything," I replied.

        "Where will I sleep?"

        "Here," I waved at the room, "Or the basement -- until we can put up
a room for you somewhere.  I felt like I needed to give your sister the
spare bedroom."  Pete nodded.  "What about... that?"  I threw a thumb at the
kitchen.

        "It takes some getting used to."

        "That's fair," I agreed.  "She's gonna be naked in the house..."

        "Yeah."

        "You'll need to get used to it."

        "I'll get there," he agreed, "but..."

        "Watching her fuck and suck...?"

        "Yeah."

        I sighed.  "You know, Son, just about every boy wants to stick his
dick in his mama -- I did, too.  Usually, it's kind of unthinkable -- she
takes care not to start anything and you're too scared.  I'm kind of jerking
the rug of respectability out from under her -- and that leaves you both
vulnerable.  She's gonna let her hair down -- probably pull a train at some
point -- you understand?"

        Pete nodded.  "Several guys?"

        "Right.  Maybe more than once.  There will be other shit, too.  She
WANTS to do wild shit --- and doing you qualifies.  I could turn you two
loose on one another -- but I don't think it's smart."  I rubbed my razor
stubble.  "You're at kind of a crossroads -- and your momma is right there
in your face going from angel to slut.  It's only natural to kind of want to
drop the barriers and TREAT her like a slut.  In fact, there's even a little
revenge component there to be dealt with.  But what you need to do is accept
her on her terms, for what she is -- and if you pork her, that's going to
get in your way.  Once you've settled out, you might decide to give her a
nasty little thrill for her birthday, or whatever -- as long as she's on
birth control, incest isn't an issue scientifically, even though it is
morally -- but you need to have your feet on the ground where she's
concerned first.  She's a woman.  She has feet of clay and a big wet pussy
and she's gonna use it.  When you are okay with that we can move on, but I
really don't think you're there yet, do you?"

        Pete grimaced.  "Probably not."

        "So, how is Joy?" I changed the subject.

        "Pretty neat, but..."

        "Go ahead."

        "I don't know if she's it, long-term."

        "Don't worry about that," I told him.  "She has needs.  You have
needs.  It's not just about sex.  She needs a man to answer to and to grow a
little self-respect.  You need a woman who'll do what the fuck you tell her
when the fuck you tell her and how the fuck you tell her.  Both of you get
what you need for now -- the future will take care of itself.  Don't cut off
your nose to spite your face."

        Pete nodded.  "Why did you ask about Michael?"

        "You know why, or you wouldn't have asked," I replied.  "I figure,
though, that's another thing we need to keep a handle on until you and your
momma are solid with the new situation.  I don't want to embarrass you with
guy stuff in front of her and put you in a position where you feel like you
have to call her a slut or something to justify yourself."

        "Thanks."

        "Don't mention it.  I won't.  I don't know where Michael sits,
anyway -- once might have been enough."  I peered at him.  "What about you?
Was once enough?"

        Pete pursed his lips, then bit them, looking away.  "No."

        "We'll have to break Joy in right, then, so she doesn't get excited
if it happens."

        Pete nodded.

        I could tell he was bothered.  "What's wrong, Son?"

        "I don't know..."

        I chuckled.  "You don't know which side of the fence you're gonna
come down on?"

        "Yeah."

        "Wait and see.  One day, you'll know.  Between now and then, enjoy
both sides so you have a sample to make your decision from."

        "Okay."

        "Don't worry, Son.  Your mother won't care.  And you KNOW I don't!"

        "Thanks Cletus."

        "No sweat."  I stood.  "Go for a swim?"

        "Sure!"

        So we played grab-ass in the pool.  After a bit, Michael came back
and added to it.  We were hanging off the edge at one point and I asked
Michael, "So, did you have a good time?"

        "Shit yeah!"

        "What do you figure was the best?"

        "Aw, I dunno.  It was all different."  He lowered his voice.
"Pete's mom was pretty good."

        "What about Gina?" I asked.

        "Well, it was good, but she doesn't know that much.  Besides, she
was all hot to tell me it wasn't going to happen again."

        "You never know," I told him.  "She's not tremendously popular, I
figure, and not tremendously outgoing, either.  You're a sure thing -- she
might be back."  I omitted the idea that she might return for ME...  "What
about Joy?"

        "Well, I don't want to horn in on Pete..."

        "Pete's worried that Joy isn't a long-term thing for him.  I think
she's good for him right now, but he might be right.  I'd be up-front with
Pete about it -- he might be more than happy to share," I related.  I paused
for a moment.  "Pete won't ask you about this, so it's up to me to be nosy.
What about the other thing?"

        "What oth...  Oh."  Michael's face took on a serious expression.
"It was good."

        "But?" I prompted.

        "No buts.  But no butt, either."

        "Ah."

        "Is that a problem?"

        "Not for me," I muttered.  "What if you're offered?"

        "I might..."  Michael puffed a sigh.  "But I don't think I'd want to
return the favor."

        I shrugged.  "I told you before that I wouldn't press you on that.
Just, you know, don't hurt anyone's feelings."

        "Cool."

        Pete swam up.  "What's going on?"

        "Just shooting the breeze," I told him.

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

        Jean showed up about two-thirty in a bikini -- very fetching.  The
boys were long gone; I was lounging on a floater.  I waved her over.  "Want
to sit on my lap, little girl?"

        Jean managed to smile, rather than crapping on me.  "You're
incorrigible."

        I nodded.  "It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it."  A thought
occurred to me.  "Speaking of tough jobs..."

        Jean's shoulders drooped.  "What?"

        "You need to take care of Pete occasionally."

        "I thought Joy had that?"

        I looked around.  "Do you see Joy?  I don't."

        "Oh."  I watched her wind herself up.  "Cletus, do you really think
that's right?  I mean..."

        "If I'd had a grown woman helping me through the storms of puberty,
I'd have been a much happier young man!" I cut her off.  "It's your duty to
your sex to see to it that he learns how to please women and doesn't go hog-
wild.  Besides, I'll feel a lot better about watching Michael ride Karen..."

        "Well, good for you!" Jean retorted sarcastically, "I'd HATE to have
you feel bad about siccing teenage boys on women twice their age!"

        "Come on, this is important," I chided.  "You did a good job with
Michael, but Pete needs more.  You're the premiere woman in my household..."

        "I'm what?  Cletus, I am NOT a member of your household!" Jean
protested.

        "Okay, Heather is -- I'll go talk to her..."

        "YOU WILL NOT!"

        "That does it!" I rasped.  "SHUT UP and GET OVER HERE and LISTEN to
me!!"

        Jean gave me this look that protested that I had no right to talk to
her like that -- but she swam up, anyway.  I dumped myself out of the
floater and hauled her in with her back to me.  She was still being mulish,
so I just hauled her in and held her loosely with an arm under her breasts
until she relaxed a little.  I'd figured out a couple of days before that
Jean had a critical behavior pattern; she would fight and argue and stand
her ground -- UNTIL you indicated to her forcefully that you weren't going
to take no for an answer.  At that point, she would cave without even
thinking about it.  Oh, she still thought she was fighting, inside her head,
but she was defending and delaying, not attacking, and prepared to lose
ground.  I'm sure it worked for the vast majority of her conflicts -- but if
anyone really stood up to her and got in her face, her body signaled
unconscious surrender before her brain realized it.

        "Pete needs a certain touch," I explained.  "Karen and Kate have
been telling him that being male is being inferior since before he could
walk -- and it's gotten worse since first Kate and then Pete hit puberty.
The other message they've been sending is that it would be nice if he were a
little more feminine -- and you can imagine what that's done to his public
perception.  Now, they did this because they're both potential sluts and
they needed to keep him from smelling juice and going after one of them..."

        "Cletus!"  Jean swatted my arm, but her outrage covered mild
amusement.

        "Hon, I'm calling a spade a spade, here," I replied.  "Why do you
think you're in position over both of them when I can dick Karen any time I
want and Kate will probably fall, too?"

        "Cletus, I just can't be your woman."

        "That's one of your better qualities," I murmured, more or less
ignoring the content of the protest, "You're independent to a point, but you
know when to let a lost cause go.  Pete needs for you and Joy to give him
self-confidence and self-respect and help him learn how to overcome conflict
and appreciate women for what they are."

        "You're not listening to me."  The comment wasn't particularly
freighted with emotion -- it was just her putting something out there.

        "You'd be right.  I'm waiting for you to realize that you've hit one
of those lost causes and shut up about it and step up to the plate.  I could
always use Heather as a backup, but you're a MUCH better candidate in every
way..."

        "I'm not seeing a lost cause, here," she muttered.

        "Okay, you can lie to yourself about that for a while.  We're
talking about Pete."

        "Why can't Joy handle this?"

        "Two reasons -- inexperience, and the fact that she has no self-
respect of her own.  Pete has no problem being ascendant over her -- but he
also needs to be able to deal with someone who has a sense of self-worth."

        "And I'm it."

        I squeezed her against me.  "Come on, it isn't like you're going to
your death."

        "No, you're right," Jean agreed.  "He's a sweet boy."  She eyed me
for a bit.  "What were you planning to do if I refused?"

        "Tie you out spread-eagle for him to use, then stick you in a kennel
with vibrators for company," I replied, poker-faced.

        "Thank God I'm learning to be reasonable."

        "Amen to that," I agreed.  "Oh, by the way, disassembly of my
computing platforms will not get you off the hook, so don't.  I figured I'd
tell you before the idea occurred to you -- no offense..."

        Jean leaned up to give me a look, then sighed, settling back.
"Would you really have tied me out?"

        "We'll never know, will we?"

        "Do I have to, uh, initiate?"

        "Not really.  Just be receptive.  Maybe advertise a little.  This is
serious -- the kid was under the impression that he had no choice but to be
gay.  You don't want to see that, I'm sure.  Can you handle it?"

        "Yes, Boss."

        "That's a good girl."  I hugged her against me.  I knew she wasn't
thrilled with the plan or me -- but she would go along.  As for the
household thing, she was already committed -- she just wasn't ready to admit
it to herself.  I knew it -- and she KNEW I knew -- but that didn't mean she
was ready to capitulate, yet...

        Jean rubbed my arm.  "Cletus?" she said diffidently.  "About
Heather..."

        "Don't."

        "Don't what?"

        "Don't ask me to make a promise that neither she nor I are going to
want to keep."

        "But...  Why?"

        "Aside from the fact that I think I'm a better candidate for busting
her cherry than some pimple-faced kid who's never seen a pussy in real life?
Because she does, too," I replied.  "Besides, we're not talking about Heather
moving into my bed -- just a couple of critical early experiences and a
little mentoring -- that's all.  I have bigger fish to fry."

        "If you do, why bother?" she asked.

        "Because I think it ought to be done right," I explained.  "Most of
the reason that sex is fraught with danger is because of ignorance -- and if
you'll forgive me for saying this, one of the sources of that ignorance is
you!"

        "What?  Dammit, Cletus!"  She started struggling in my arms.

        "So I'm wrong?  Or it just hurts a little?" I pressed, not letting
her go, but allowing her to turn in my arms to face me.  "You've told her
everything she needs to know -- or did you just try to scare her to death so
she wouldn't go near a boy?  Was that your concept of everything she needs
to know?"

        She started beating my shoulders with her fists.  "Damn you!  You're
just like my ex!  Domineering, rational, you pretend to be logical, but
you're not!  Controlling..."

        I grabbed her wrists.  "I assume those aren't compliments..."  She
tried to kick me, and I considered tripping and dunking her -- but her face
collapsed from anger to pain, so I let go of her wrists one by one so I
could haul her against me.  She shook and sobbed and dribbled salt water on
my shoulder while I rubbed her back and murmured, "You did fine with
Michael, but you did almost as badly with Heather as Karen did with Pete.
Do you WANT her to be a lesbian?"

        "No!" she choked out.  "I just didn't want her to get hurt..."

        "Like you did," I finished for her.  "Now I've wandered in and all
of the fancy plans and defenses you had built up are as ineffective against
me as they were against him..."

        "You're worse!" Jean whined, whacking me on the shoulder again.
Women and assault and battery...  "He at least covered over his worst traits
in public -- you just throw it all out there for the world to see just how
weird and strange you really are...  You're demanding and abusive..."

        "Abusive?  Me?" I blinked.  "Really?"

        "Of COURSE you are!  Just look how you..."  She ground to a halt,
looking thoroughly flustered.

        "I try to be up front about things," I defended myself.

        "You use it as a weapon!" Jean accused.

        I nodded.  "Guilty as charged."

        "I don't see it coming..."

        "Exactly," I agree.  "I told you God's honest truth and you
underestimated me -- largely because people who say what I did to you are
either big liars, kidding, or don't even think they have a shot.  It was
like I showed you the gun and let you watch me load it and take target
practice -- and then you're standing there wondering how come you're gut-
shot -- because nobody would do such a thing.  Well, Babe, people who mean
business WILL do such a thing!"

        "It's sneaky," Jean whimpered.

        "Well, it is and it isn't.  What more could I do to warn you?  I was
rude, crude, and socially unacceptable..."

        "Which is EXACTLY why I didn't believe you!"

        "Yep."

        She shook her head.  "What am I going to do?"

        "Get used to it.  Roll with the punches.  More or less what you're
doing," I told her.

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

        Heather got in at three-thirty -- sans Amy, which was probably a
good thing.  I was in feast or famine mode -- and the feast was a bit much
for me to handle.  Two adult women, and one and a half sixteen year olds
(Heather was only schooled in giving head, after all) is a bit much for a
guy my age.  Fortunately, I had two horny fourteen-year olds to back me
up...  Still sex isn't everything; I put Karen on dinner and she dragged
Heather and Kate in, too, while I made some calls.

        After dinner, I briefed the grand plan; we would collect the
Moffat's gear from their old place while the heat index was down a bit after
dark.  This met with more or less universal approval -- with a couple of
abstentions --notably Jean and Heather.  I let it ride -- Heather was just
in from work, and Jean, while she claimed not to have any interest in being
the mistress of the house, had clear issues with the whole Karen moving in
thing.  I piled everyone else into the Saturn and we went off to U-Haul to
pick up a truck, then on to the Moffat hovel.

        I'd been there once, but it was even more dismal in detail than I'd
noticed.  The Moffats were living in a two bedroom place that was about
eight hundred square feet in a neighborhood that, well, I wasn't driving the
Mercedes to.  I had a property about four blocks over, but it was over the
barbed wire fence from the combat zone.  I'm sure that those of you with
fingers have figured out the fact that they were short a bedroom; I
discovered that I wasn't hurting Pete any by putting him in the TV room or
the basement.

        It took the five of us four miserable hours to evacuate the place --
it was still hotter than fuck and the place had no air conditioning -- and
cleaning would have to wait, because we had to think about unloading at my
place, too.  When we got there with the truck, Jean in particular was
graceless about it, but both she and Heather turned out to help.  Kate and
Karen's stuff went into Kate's room, loading the closet pretty heavily; I
gave Pete his choice between the TV room and the basement, advising him,
"The basement may seem to be a come-down, but you'll have a helluva lot more
privacy there."  Pete agreed -- and I promised we would subdivide things
down there for his further privacy and convenience.  In the meantime, he had
the TV area down there to himself -- and a bed that Kate no longer had any
use for, since she was using the one set up in the spare room.  For the
night, however, he was fine with the couch; we were all wasted.  It was
almost two a.m. before everyone was settled; there was still a lot of crap
on the truck, but we just didn't have the resources.

        One bathroom wasn't going to handle the load, either, with Jean's
family present, so I ordered, "All right -- everyone into the pool!  Once
we've knocked the sweat off, we can talk about showers and who is sleeping
where."  Jean wanted to argue, of course -- especially since we were CLEARLY
into Adult Swim -- but she gave it up as a waste of time when nobody else
even bothered to wait and see if she was going to win the argument or not.
I just put up a hand and said, "Everybody's tired -- do we have to argue
about this?"

        Jean grimaced and muttered, "I guess not."

        Nobody was in a mood to play a lot, anyway; for most, it was in and
out, having cooled off and knocked the sweat away.  Then it was back inside
to get ready for bed.  I fired the boys off downstairs, and Kate and Heather
shared the spare room -- now Kate's.  Karen and Jean were with me.  Once
again, Jean started to voice objections -- and I killed it.  "Don't!  We're
going to sleep!  You can stay here where it's cool, or you can go over to
your house where it isn't -- but if you do that, plan to hang out there all
day tomorrow..."  This hit Jean where she lived, since she couldn't sleep in
the heat and there was really no way she wanted to do without air
conditioning.

        "Do you always have to be a hard ass?" Jean whined.

        "I would have Karen sleep on the floor, but she's been working
pretty hard," I replied.  "You chose not to participate fully, so I have a
hard time justifying giving you shit she can't have."

        "I could go sleep in the TV room..." Jean offered.

        "You do that," I replied -- but my expression told her it would be a
mistake.  The 'and see what happens...' was clearly implied.

        "What?"

        "Where do you want to sit on the totem pole, Missy?" I demanded.
"Make up your mind -- but be aware that it takes some work to get below
Karen -- and you will NOT like it there!"

        "Dammit Cletus!"

        "Get in the bed!"  I circled between her and the door and basically
bulled Jean backward by bumping her with my chest until her knees hit the
bed and she fell back.  "Shut the Hell up!  I'm tired and grouchy and if you
piss me off, there's a cage downstairs with your name on it!"

        "All right!  All right!"  She backed onto the bed and took up a
position on the right side.  I climbed in growling, and turned to Karen,
"You have the foot -- don't play with my feet.  In the morning, ONE of you
had better figure out the right way to wake me up!"  I pushed Jean over so
her back was to me, deliberately seated my cock in the crack of her ass, put
a hand on one of her titties, and closed my eyes.  "Karen, get the light."

        That was all she wrote.

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

        Sunday morning started slow; everybody was exhausted, not just me.
I didn't crack an eyelid until nine-thirty.  Jean was gone; I think Karen
leaving the bed awakened me.  I glanced around, decided it wasn't time yet,
and rolled over.

        The next time I awakened, it was due to voices in the hall outside
my room.  "Jean, are you professionally stupid, or is Cletus a special
case?" Karen's aggravated voice asked.

        "I can't let him run me!" Jean retorted.

        "How are you gonna stop him?"

        "I don't know."

        Karen sighed.  "Until you figure it out, every time you buck him,
he's gonna pin your ears back.  Frankly, I don't think you stand a
snowball's chance in Hell at this point -- all you're buying yourself is
trouble.  Do you think fighting him every step of the way is going to get
you ANYTHING but trouble?"

        "I don't know -- but I can't just..."

        "Just what?"

        "Stand by and watch him railroad EVERYBODY!" Jean finished.

        "Nobody else is particularly worried about it," Karen retorted.

        "Heather is.  Cletus has designs on her."

        "Heather was using Cletus' cock for a teaching aid this time
yesterday morning!" Karen retorted.  "She was trying to learn Deep Throat!
Does that sound to YOU like she's concerned?  YOU'RE the one concerned --
and you're wasting your time!  If Heather rolls on her back and spreads her
legs, you're not going to stop them -- and if she doesn't, it won't happen!"

        "It happened with Kate!" Jean snapped.

        "And I was right there when she volunteered," Karen replied.
"Cletus was right -- Karen got a LOT better break-in than some young kid
would have given her!  I'm sure she'll avoid a lot of hang-ups!"  The
implication that Jean was hung-up was clear in her voice.

        "Yeah, there'll be no barriers to her being a total slut!" Jean
snarled.

        Uh oh.  I rolled out of bed -- but didn't make it before the cat-
fight started.  They were hard at it in the hallway when I arrived, and I
took two or three strikes from both of then when I interposed myself.  "All
RIGHT!" I roared, plastering them against the hallway walls.  "That's
ENOUGH!"  By then, all four kids were in sight.

        "She..!" Jean howled.

        "I know what SHE did -- and I know what YOU did, too!" I snapped.
"Karen, go to your kennel!"

        "Yes, Cletus!"  Karen headed off.

         I turned my attention to Jean.  "What is it with you?  What makes
you morally superior to everyone else around here?"

        "I don't chase down every woman in sight and coerce them into having
sex with me!" Jean spat, "And I don't just roll over and spread my legs for
the mighty Cletus Putnam!"

        "No, you hide in the shadows watching people fuck and play with
yourself!' I roared, "That's SO much better!"

        Jean blanched -- everybody heard me.  Her eyes flicked to Heather,
who was halfway down the hall.  Heather stopped dead.

        I turned to Heather.  "Your mother is under the impression I'm
putting the moves on you.  Am I?"

        "Um, no."

        "Kind of the other way around, isn't it?" I asked.

        "Well..."

        "I haven't sucked your pussy."

        "No, you haven't."  Heather turned cherry red.

        Jean tried to take a swing at me.  "Damn you!"

        "I'm sick of your shit!" I roared.  "You think everybody ought to
have your hang-ups -- which is classic for some of the worst people on the
face of the planet!  You fucking stand right there -- I'll be right back!"
I went into the TV room and surfaced the vibrator that the girls had played
with two nights before.  Naturally, Jean didn't pay a lick of attention to
me and was wrangling with Heather about succumbing to my pernicious
influence.  "Here!"  I brandished the vibrator.  "Here's your perfect
boyfriend! It won't care if you're playing voyeur, and it won't get you
pregnant, and it'll get you off again and again, and you can hide it and use
it only when no one is around and pretend you don't need sex, because God
forbid anyone thinks you're human -- but you know what?  If someone else
decides to use it, it won't tell them no -- JUST LIKE ME!"

        Jean's face turned paper-white.  "Come -- we're leaving."  She waved
at Heather.

        "So, once again, you're gonna make them pay for your fuck-ups!" I
snarled.  "Once again, they have to suffer because you have your head up
your ass!  How many times does that make?  Three?  Four?  Five?"

        Jean totally lost it and took a swing at me, "You...!"

        I put a hand right between her tits and smashed her into the
hallway wall.  "Can't take the heat, either, can you?  Well, you forget who
the fuck you're playing with here!"  I grabbed a waving arm and used it to
spin her so she was facing the wall.  "This is MY house and we play by MY
rules, and you're screwed ANYWAY -- but since you INSIST on having me rub
your nose in it..."  She couldn't see me -- she was seeing stars from having
her nose hit the wall.  I pinned her there with a hand in the middle of her
back and waved to Michael and Heather, mouthing assurances that it would be
okay before saying aloud, "Kids, you should go elsewhere -- you don't want
to see this..."  Then I put Jean in a hammerlock and marched her back to the
bedroom and straight out onto the bed.  She was ranting and screeching and
generally foaming at the mouth, but a knee in the middle of her back kept
her from going anywhere while I peeled her out of her shorts and panties.
Then I gave her twenty solid swats on her bare ass!  She went from
screeching to blubbering, and I rolled her over and straddled her, parking
my butt on her stomach.  "Here, date your boyfriend!"  I stuck the vibrator
against her clit and fired it off.

        "No!  Don't!  Stop!"  Jean drubbed my back with her fists.  She
couldn't close her legs tight enough to keep me from putting the tip of the
vibe against her clit and she wasn't going to move me appreciably.  She
pushed and hauled at me, but I probably had fifty pounds on her.

        "Shut up!" I grated.  "Enjoy your new boyfriend!  You don't like men
and you can barely tolerate boys and God knows what lies you tell yourself
about women, so this is what you can look forward to!  You might as well
enjoy it!"

        "This is rape!"

        "Is it?  You're not gonna get MY dick unless you beg for it!" I
retorted.  "This is just a party between you and your new boyfriend; I'm
merely matchmaking!"

        She fought and she wriggled and she kicked -- but some things merely
exposed her further, so she tried locking things up -- but she was too
excited, too enervated.  The spanking helped, I think, distracting her.  I
knew I had her when she held still for thirty seconds or so, but then her
toes started curling and her feet started flopping back and forth -- which
opened her up.  Her feet started rubbing one another and she stopped beating
and hauling on me; a glance behind me showed her fists clenched, but she was
trying to will away the pleasure and it wasn't working.  "Good, huh?  Tell
your boyfriend how good he is..."

        "No!"  But her voice was strained.  Her feet clenched and her toes
curled and her legs started to dance, granting me more operating space
whether she wanted it or not.  "Cletus, please..."

        "Please what?  Please don't stop?"

        N--no.  You don't have to do this..."

        "No, I don't," I agreed.  "I could let you up and let you go on your
merry way -- but you know what?  You would continue to pretend that you
don't like sex and you can do without it and that you're different from and
superior to people who do -- and it would inevitably lead to something more
drastic."

        "What are you going to do?"

        "Make you face yourself."

        "Don't!  Please!"  But her legs were moving; her knees bent, and she
kicked and wiggled and eventually she put her knees up and dug her feet into
the mattress.  I watched her toes curl and her knees jump and the tendons on
the inside of her thighs jerk; she clutched my love handles and moaned,
"No... No...  Auuugh!  No!" then tried to lift me into the air as she jerked
and shuddered through Orgasm Number One.

        After that, it was easy.  By Number Six, all she could do was whine
and rub my back.  A couple more and she was exhausted; "No more!  I'm
dying!"  I let her beg a bit, then let up.

        "So, pretty horrible, huh?" I asked, climbing off.

        She couldn't move a muscle -- she'd been fighting herself and her
body had abused itself straining through orgasm after orgasm and she
couldn't lift a finger.  "Don't go!" she panted.

        "You've got your boyfriend," I replied, "You don't need human
company.  Want me to turn him back on for you?"

        "No!  Please!  I DO need it!  Please?" she gasped.  She managed to
clutch one of my hands.

        "I'm tired of your shit!" I warned.  "If you mess with me, I'll lock
you in a kennel with your boyfriend and a ball gag to scream into and you
can wait for the batteries to die!"

        "No!  Please!  I'll be good!"

        "Too bad you don't like dick..."

        "I do!  I do!"

        "Really?"

        "Yes!  Yes!  I love them!"

        "No kidding..."  I stepped to the door.  "Heather!  Michael!  Come
here!  Bring the other two with you!"  Feet thundered up the hall, the boys
arriving first.  "Tell them what you just told me!"

        "Cletus, no!  Please!"

        "I'll go get the kennel ready."

        "No!"  Jean surged up to bolt upright.  "Okay!  I... like cocks."

        "I think you went further than that a minute ago," I chided.

        "I love them!  I love sex!  I'm just scared, you know?  It makes
you... vulnerable."  Jean's eyes pled as she looked at her daughter.

        "Are you gonna be good?" I demanded.

        "Yes."  Jean hung her head.  "I'll be good."

        "We'll see."  I turned away.  "Now I have to go punish Karen for
your folly."