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Archive name: ex4.txt
Authors name: Homer Vargas
Story title : Examination of a NAG
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(c) Copyright Homer Vargas - 1998 - This work is
copyrighted to the author, with all rights reserved.
This story may be archived and displayed on non-
commercial web sites without permission, but please
make no chages to the text and do not remove the
author name or address. Thank you
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Although this story is self contained, it alludes
to three earlier stories, "The Examination," "On
Further Examination" and "Wonder Woman's
Examination." I like to believe you will enjoy
this more if you have read the others first.
Examination of a NAG
by Homer Vargas
Sometimes Kate Harridan thought *Milly* was
the cause of her headaches, the way her
administrative assistant went on and on, urging
her boss to see a doctor about the trivial
ailment. Milly ought to have been working for
Kate long enough to know by now she *always* got
headaches when she was under stress. And Lord
knows she had cause enough for stress. Just
moving the headquarters of NAG (National
Association of Grrls), the organization Kate had
founded, from San Francisco to Washington was
stressful enough. Then the disasters began.
The movers had hardly finished putting all
the ficuses in place when the Finger scandal
broke. Carol Finger, yes, Senator Finger herself,
was caught in a sexual liaison with one of her
hunky interns. "Sexual liaison" hell, the Senator
was getting her lights fucked out daily if not
more often. Truth be told, Carol Finger had never
been a credit to the World's Greatest Deliberative
Body, but she was on NAG's Board of Directors and
the organization had to back her up. Always ready
with a faux feminist rationale for her erratic
positions on issues, Carol compiled an amazingly
inconsistent and self-serving voting record.
The disclosure that Senator Finger was having
sex with a boy half her age was bad enough. Worse
was the grainy photo obtained by the other party
showing a plump middle-aged woman draped over an
arm chair, red skirt up around her waist and red
panties down around her ankles, being skewered to
her obvious delight by a muscular blonde. The
President's picture above the desk smiled down in
apparent approbation, or was it envy?
The Senator made everything ten time worse,
however, at the news conference she gave to
announce her resignation. Kate had read the
transcript and seen the video enough times to have
the gut-wrenching performance memorized. The
rhetorical low points were burned into her memory.
"Hell, yes, I'm having an affair with this
gorgeous boy and I sure don't intend to apologize
for it," the Senator declared. "That's the
difference between men and real Grrls. I do *not*
beg forgiveness from my husband and family and
this has definitely *not* made my marriage to the
wimp stronger. In fact, I'm going to divorce his
ass! And for all you school marms of whatever
profession that `can't understand' how a woman of
`my age' can take up with a twenty year old stud-
muffin, let me spell it out for you. S-E-X.
Clear enough? Let me be more specific. T-E-N I-
N-C-H C-O-C-K. Need more? How about, T-W-O. I-
N-C-H. D-I-A-M-E-T-E-R? I've got the boy putting
the wood to me like I haven't gotten it in years
and damned if I'm going to stop him."
"Take it from me, Grrls, get your self one of
these," she proclaimed lustily, reaching over to
fondle the erection of the handsome young man
standing beside her, smiling even though he was a
little dim to fully comprehend what was going on.
"Stop grinding up the contraband Viagra in the old
fart's oatmeal at night. It's not doing either of
you any good," she admonished. "Loose some lard
ladies, get your titties a silicone upgrade if
they need it, buy yourself a few hot little minis,
and wiggle your ass down to the nearest sports
bar. I guarantee within a week you'll be getting
your pussy plowed or I'll let you have Arnold for
a night. If you are lucky, you might even find a
plowman who can remember which morning to take out
the garbage, but don't hold your breath.
Remember, Grrls, there's just one thing a man's
good for. If he's well equipped between his legs,
don't worry about what he's got between his ears."
"There is, however, one particularly
disgusting canard out there, that I must most
emphatically deny. I did *not* let my fuck toy
`get me pregnant.' I got this," Carol paused for
effect and lifted her obscenely short skirt to
display a telling bulge in her panties, "Because
*I* threw away the pills. *I* decided on the best
dates. *I* locked him in the hotel room and kept
the pillows under my ass. *I* made sure he gave
me frequent re-fills of jizz all weekend long.
I'm having this baby because *I* guided his big
cock into me and made him shoved it farther down
into my fertile womb than he ever had before.
Arnold, the dear, just supplied the semen, one
thing he can do very well." Arnold grinned,
suspecting the nice woman had said something good
about him again.
Ex-Senator Finger had gone on for twenty
minutes in that vein. It had been a public
relations catastrophe ending with the horrific
finale. "Therefore I am resigning my seat in the
United States Senate. Not because I am ashamed of
myself, but because there isn't a man there who
can fuck worth a damn -- and the women aren't much
better. I don't have time to listen to windbags
when I could be on my back getting a prong where
it belongs. And so adieu and fuck yieu!" she
concluded giving the middle finger salute for the
nation's television cameras.
The furor over l'affaire Finger had barely
died down when NAG was embarrassed to learn that
Wonder Woman was out of service. For some time it
had been damned hard to get in touch with her.
The Army's main contact with the superheroine,
Diana Prince, was spending every free hour shacked
up with Col. Steve Trevor and had the little
round tummy to prove it.
When the lovebirds could at last be prevailed
upon to call in Wonder Woman, it was revealed just
why the superheroine had been keeping out of
sight. Although the Amazonian Princess wasn't
telling who had done the deed, America's first
line of defense had irresponsibly let some man put
a bun in her oven and her doctor didn't allow her
to travel. Consequently, the US military had to
deal with a rogue faction of the Ruritanian
Defense Force without the assistance of its
superheroine. It was close run thing.
Finally, although it was not a crisis, Kate
became increasingly aware of the subtly hostile
atmosphere to NAG's agenda in the Washington
social milieu. Kate had expected to find
Washington full of sour women -- hard-bitten
lawyers, disgruntled NGO executives, and angry
consultants -- eager to become NAGs. Instead,
every time she turned around Kate heard another
story of a professional woman who suddenly quit
her job to become a happy little sex kitten for
her boyfriend and promptly got herself knocked up
or one who had to give up her career when she
"accidentally" let her husband make her pregnant
again. Hundreds of women with children in college
were waddling around in maternity dresses again or
were back to washing diapers. Some were doing
both. Olivia Fuentes in NAGs Research department
confirmed that the birth rate among upper middle
class women ages 30-45 in the Washington
metropolitan area was almost double the national
average and was still shooting up.
The queen bee of these "New Feminists," as
she dubbed them, was Angelica Lopez, the new
editor of the Post's "Style" section. And
Angelica made no secret whom she considered to be
the "Old Feminists." Angelica was an odd bird,
Kate thought. Admittedly she had a strong claim
to being a feminist. She was a successful young
woman with a six figure income and a handsome,
slavish husband whom she kept home to look after
the house -- and the kids. That was the odd part.
Angelica had five children under four and was
pregnant again. She filled "Style" with stories
about having sex and having babies. Thousands of
readers adored Angelica, but unfortunately, had
rather less supportive husbands than their icon.
So when their bellies started getting big, they
were the ones who stayed home to care for the
little shoot.
No, Kate didn't come by her headaches gratis.
She had to admit, though, that Milly might have a
point. Her assistant did seem so happy and full
of life since her visit to Dr. Bock. Maybe it
was a good thing NAG had selected him. Several
women doctors had bid for the contract to be NAG's
Preferred Provider of gynecological and (Ha!)
obstetric services, but Bock's price was just too
good. Moreover, Carol Finger and Milly, who had
been on the selection committee, had returned
singing the praises of the Bock Clinic.
Grudgingly, Kate told the eager AA to make an
appointment for her the next week.
This made Milly very happy. Although she
knew Kate would not understand the recent changes
in her life, much less approve of them, Milly was
convinced somehow that the visit to Dr. Bock had
been a turning point. Although she could not
remember much about what happened there, since
then Milly had blossomed socially. To be more
exact, were Milly not such a little lady, one
would say she had turned into a cock hound!
Like many women who discover the joys of sex
a little tardily, Milly focused on the basics,
seeking to make up for lost time. Candles at
dinner were an unnecessary expense and wine,
however useful for getting a guy into bed,
interfered with good service once she had him
there. Experience had taught her that a big plate
of pasta before the main event and Gatorade, kept
by the bedside for pit stops, were all that was
needed for the kind of strenuous lovemaking she
demanded.
Milly was not yet much into romance. Her
idea of a long term relationship was a guy who
would pick her up at work on Friday afternoon and
would still be performing to spec Monday morning
when she reluctantly made him climb off and go
home so she could get ready for work. Sadly,
Milly had not yet found the man she was looking
for, so she made do with a team. A major league
manager planning his pitching rotation for the
playoffs had nothing on Milly's strategizing her
boyfriend schedule according to her moods and
social occasions.
Primus inter pares was Horse, the Washington
Wizards' center who was hung like a ... well, the
eponymous farm animal. Carlos was a dance
instructor whose introduction of the movements of
Salsa, Cumbia, and the Meringue into his frenetic
lovemaking more than compensated for his small
stature. Wentworth was a pleasant looking banker,
rich as sin, and not too bad in the sack. He had
his uses. The sleeper of the group was Albert who
worked at National Science Foundation. He was
terribly bright and didn't look so goofy now that
Milly had convinced him to get contact lenses.
Albert was still a bit of a nerd, but Milly
decided must have a Ph.D. in the geography of
erogenous zones and had perhaps done some post-
doctoral work in cunnilingus. He could get her
off so well with his fingers and his mouth, Milly
only fucked him to be a good sport ... and
because his prick was almost as big as Horse's.
Amaka was also happy to get Milly's call that
Ms Harridan would be coming for a visit and
immediately informed James. "You handle her
honey. After all, she *is* a feminist."
Emboldened by James's confidence in her, Amaka did
a little research on her patient-to -be. Although
Kate had written several books, the locus
classicus of her anti-male ideology was, "Forget
It!" This screed was mainly famous for Kate's
aphorism, that "a woman needs a man like a fish
needs a bicycle."
When Amaka saw Kate's scowling face, she knew
this was not going to be easy. She decided that
the best approach would be a respectful,
businesslike tone. "Since you're a new patient,
Ms Harridan, I'll need to get some preliminary
information."
"I assumed that that was the purpose of
having me fill out the form," Kate icily replied.
"You're quite right," Amaka assured her,
wanting to get her into at least a semi-
cooperative mood as quickly as she could. "All
the basic, standard information is on the form,
and of course I won't waste your time asking you
to repeat it. All I need to do now is get some
more details medical history, and because so many
questions are contingent on other questions, it's
a lot faster and more efficient to do that in an
interview."
Kate seemed to accept this common sense
explanation, if reluctantly. She nodded and said,
"Very well."
"OK, glancing over what you put down, it
looks like the only medical problem you've had in
the past several years has been headaches, is that
right?"
"That's correct."
"No history of sinus trouble? Good eyesight?
Has there been a change in your symptoms
recently?"
Kate answered the first two questions with a
quick negative shake of her head. "The headaches
have been getting worse in the past few weeks.
Well, I'm not sure they're worse, just more
frequent."
"I see. And has anything changed recently
about your habits or your diet or your environment
at home or at work?"
"I keep telling my secretary it's stress, and
I have certainly had to deal with a good many
problems recently. Unfortunately, stress is
unavoidable in my work."
"Do you anything to relax?"
"I don't have much time for relaxing." Kate's
expression changed from sourness and impatience to
one of passionate zeal. "I don't know if you're
aware of how much ground the feminist movement has
lost in the past few decades. It's all we can do,
those of us who still care about it, to keep
things from sliding back into the dark ages."
"The real crisis is that we women have
ourselves given up the fight. A lot of us have
convinced ourselves that full-fledged feminism is
extremist rather than simply right. Some even
take delight in being sex objects, living their
lives as if they were in some male fantasy. I
don't suppose you've read Andrea Dworkin?"
Amaka had in fact read some Dworkin, but she
shook her head, not wanting to extend the
discussion if she could avoid it. But Kate seemed
to be on a roll.
"Well, you should read Dworkin; she's a very
important writer. But even Dworkin is too
tolerant for my tastes. Men have subjugated women
for years, using them for sexual pleasure and to
make babies and to clean up after them. And look
at so-called women's magazines! What are they
about? Babies, sex, and how to have a pretty
house! We're subjugating ourselves! Every time a
woman has sex, she's cooperating with the
oppressor!"
This was not going the way Amaka had
intended. She had meant to gradually steer the
discussion around to the need to relax, then
either to the use of tranquilizers or self-
hypnosis, which would give her the opening she
needed to start this woman's conditioning. But
she couldn't help saying, "I've heard that Andrea
Dworkin says that any sex involving penetration is
inherently sexist. Is that what you mean?"
Kate shook her head emphatically. "No,
Dworkin has that completely wrong. That's a
detail, mere symbolism. It isn't how you have
sex, it's having sex at all. Any kind of sex
subjugates women to men!"
Amaka looked at her with real curiosity.
"Well, what if there aren't any men involved?
What if it's just two gir -- two women? How can
that o--"
Kate cut her off impatiently. "That's still
sex, isn't it? Do you think that makes any
difference to a man? Men love the idea of lesbian
sex! They like it as much as they do male-female
sex. Maybe more!"
Amaka opened her mouth to say something, but
decided better of it. Reminding herself that this
was not going anywhere useful, so she decided to
revert to her original plan. "You make a very
good point," she said, hoping agreement would
avoid extending the argument. "You're absolutely
right. Your work is very important. Vital. And
I'm sure your headaches are interfering with your
work, so we had better do something about them."
"Yes," Kate agreed, putting her palm to her
forehead and seeming to sag slightly.
"Are you getting a headache now?" Amaka
asked.
"Yes," Kate said. "I guess I got a little
too intense." She looked up sharply. "But it's
important! Ow!"
Amaka stood up and moved behind the woman.
She began massaging Kate's shoulder's while trying
to make it seem like an examination. The woman's
shoulder muscles felt like taut steel cables. "Ms
Harridan," Amaka said, "I believe that
hypertension of the striated muscles might be at
the root of your sensitivity to stress. I would
like to examine your staticodynamic
ligomusculature more thoroughly. Please remove
your outer clothing and lie down on the examining
table."
Kate looked sourly doubtful. "I had assumed
the doctor would examine me."
"And I'm sure he will," Amaka said with a
second unstated meaning. "But I assure you that
I'm a qualified medical professional, although I'm
sure I don't have to tell you that, since you
would not underrate the nursing profession simply
because it is traditionally female."
Kate seemed horrified by the very suggestion
and quickly said, "Oh, of course not. I, I simply
was concerned about the time. But perhaps you're
right." Efficiently, and without the slightest
sign of either shame or delight about the process,
she stripped to cotton briefs. No doubt all her
bras were burned years ago, Amaka told herself.
"OK, now if you'll just lie down here. No,
face down, please. All right, now tell me if I
hurt you."
But of course she had no intention of
hurting. Amaka massaged the woman's shoulders,
her back, her legs and arms, alternately gently
and firmly, all the while trying to make it seem
like an examination despite the pleasure she was
sure she was provoking. Occasionally she allowed
her large uniform-covered breasts to brush against
her patient's bare skin as if by accident, and she
let the tips of her fingers brush a few times
against the sides of the woman's breasts. Kate
showed no suspicion of what Amaka was up to, but
she did show signs of responding and trying to
conceal it. Amaka grinned inwardly, wondered if
this woman ever had a massage before. Probably
not the sort of thing a tight ass like her would
go in for. May that was why she was reacting so
well to this one.
When Amaka shifted her attention to the
surprisingly cute little ass, though, she provoked
a more negative reaction. "What are you doing?"
Kate suddenly demanded.
Sounding professional, Amaka said, "I'm sorry
if I startled you. Headaches can originate in
primary or secondary muscle tension anywhere in
the body, but especially near the head and spine,
and in particular with the larger muscles, such as
the gluteus maximus, here. I notice you seem to
be particularly tense around the base of the
spine, and I really should examine the whole
pelvic area for my report."
Kate reluctantly let her press and feel her
way around, and after a while the ass muscles no
longer clinched up when she touched them.
"How's your headache?" Amaka asked.
"Why, it's gone!" Kate sounded genuinely
surprised.
"Good. Sometimes the physiological
manipulation necessary for the examination is
itself therapeutic." Damn, she thought, she was
starting to sound like what's her name on ER. "In
fact, I believe it would help establish a
treatment modality that I could report to the
doctor if I tried one additional thing."
Amaka looked around for some oil but couldn't
find any. "I'll be right back," she said as she
hastened out of the room.
Kate lay there feeling better and almost
relaxed. Perhaps her initial skepticism of this
nurse had been based upon some residual sexism.
After all, it pervaded society, and patriarchal
values were passed on as much by mothers as by
fathers -- that was the insidiousness of it. She
should have thought to mention that in explaining
how even lesbian sex could be oppressive of women,
in that it reflected the patriarchal socioeconomic
system. Marx had been, in his typical male way,
wrong. It was not religion but sex that was the
opiate of the masses, especially the female
masses, and as with any seemingly pleasurable
addictive drug it was best avoided.
The nurse came back with some sort of bottle.
"This is a therapeutic lubricating oil," she
explained. "It will help me perform a palpatative
examination of the deeper musculature." Amaka
neglected to mention that the oil had several
tranquilizers that would be absorbed through the
skin mixed with it. Since her close call with
that tough Ms. Lopez, Amaka took no chances.
Slowly, she began to smooth the cool liquid on
Kate's back.
Kate had found the initial examination
pleasurable, almost embarrassingly so, but when
the nurse's oiled fingers began sliding over her,
pressing gently here and there, then stroking so
lightly it was barely a touch, it felt incredible,
like nothing, well, like nothing she'd experienced
in many years. It made it hard to think. Perhaps
she should make her stop, but that was silly, this
was simply a medical examination, even if it was a
kind she wasn't familiar with.
"Excuse me, but I don't want to get oil on
your panties," the nurse said, and Kate felt them
being pulled down to expose her posterior. The
sensation of the slippery hands examining her bare
bottom was shocking to Kate, but she strove to
avoid showing any sign of it. Only when an oiled
finger feeling about her tailbone slipped briefly
down between her cheeks did she start to say
something. It was over too quickly, before she
could object, although not before it had given her
a strange and strangely pleasurable, frisson.
"Now please turn over," the nurse instructed,
and Kate did so. The nurse put more oil on her
hands and proceeded to examine Kate's shoulders,
neck, and sides. Amaka moved to stand at the head
of the examining table. Kate felt the nurse's
gentle fingers trail lightly across the muscles of
her face and forehead, then to the sides of her
neck and her shoulders, then back to the face.
She felt much better and more relaxed, but she
noticed that her nipples seemed to be standing up.
Much as she hated to admit it, Kate knew she was
becoming aroused.
The nurse said something Kate didn't catch.
She realized that her eyes were closed and she
opened them. The nurse was leaning over her, her
face upside down from this angle, some sort of
shiny amulet hanging from her neck and swinging
slightly.
"I want you to relax as much as you can, Ms
Harridan. Based on the what I've seen so far, I
believe it's very likely that your headaches are a
consequence of general musculoskeletal
hypertonality. It should respond well to
treatment if we know its full extent."
The skillful hands ranged more freely over
Kate's body as the amulet swung over her face,
capturing her attention. Gradually Amaka moved to
stand beside Kate's head, one hand continuing to
explore her upper body and the other straying
lower and lower in its gentle, pleasurable
examination of the abdomen.
Kate felt herself drifting into almost a
dream state, aware that she shouldn't fall asleep
in the examining room but too relaxed -- more
relaxed than she had been in years, she thought --
to really care. In fact, the nurse kept telling
her to relax, and she kept feeling herself do so
more and more.
Almost in a daze she heard the nurse say,
"Now, I need to check some interior muscle
tension, so don't be startled. This will only
take a moment." And she felt a lubricated finger
slip gently into her vagina. The pleasurable
shock was intense and it was all Kate could do not
to cry out or arch her back. The finger moved
around inside her, setting off little rockets of
delight. Then it began to pump in and out of her
while the nurse kept telling her to relax, relax,
go to sleep for her, go to sleep, listen only to
her voice ...
A weak thought that had for some time been in
the back of Kate's mind, one she had been refusing
to listen to, suddenly shouted its way into her
consciousness. This wasn't any damned medical
examination. There was no medical reason for
finger fucking. This was a seduction attempt.
This so-called nurse was trying to have sex with
her, and a lesser woman than Kate Harridan would
have fallen into her trap!
"What the hell are you doing!" she spat out,
trying to sit up.
The nurse, still standing beside her, looked
a little surprised by the attempt at resistance,
but her hand didn't miss a stroke and Kate
realized to her horror that she half-wanted her to
continue.
Amaka leaned over her, keeping Kate from
rising, murmuring soothing instructions to relax
and as the pleasure between her legs increased,
Kate felt the tenseness draining out of her again
against her will.
"Stop it!" Kate insisted, weakly trying to
close her legs and push away the hand that was
robbing her of her will. "I know what you're
doing and it isn't going to work!"
"Isn't it?" Amaka asked sweetly. "I believe
you've overlooked something about sex. Just
because men like sex doesn't mean it's bad for
women. In fact, it's a source of female power.
I'm using it on you right now, and it's pretty
effective, wouldn't you say?"
"No, no That's lipstick feminism crap! All
bullshit!" Kate replied foggily. She was still
trying to push the nurse's hand away from her, but
she was at a disadvantage half-lying in this
position. Every time she managed to force the
nurse's hand away with both of hers, Amaka simply
writhed her oiled hand free and went back to what
she was doing. Covering herself with her hands
didn't work either, because the nurse simply
shifted the focus of her attack to Kate's
sensitive inner thighs or sides or breasts, and
Kate was by now so turned on that almost any
contact with those skilled fingers sent
involuntary thrills through her.
This is crazy! Kate told herself. Why can't
I fight this? I've had enough men think they
could seduce me, hoping to bag a feminist as a
trophy, and those stupid bastards never came
close. What's this woman doing to me? Why can't
I control myself? Her mind seemed sluggish,
unable to think. She felt the nurse's lips
encircle one of her nipples and begin to suckle,
the hot tongue flicking across and around the hard
bud. She couldn't keep from whimpering from
unwanted but undeniable pleasure, and she began
relaxing back onto the table.
"Don't fight me, baby. You're too hot to
fight. You need to relax and have a good come!"
As her struggles gradually weakened and eyes began
to drift closed Kate began to figure it out.
Amaka wasn't just seducing her. All that talk
about relaxing, that sparkling, waving amulet, it
had to be hypnosis. She was being seduced and
hypnotized at the same time, with the one
reinforcing the other and making them both
incredibly hard to fight.
That meant she was in much greater danger
than she'd realized. This wasn't just some horny
lesbian after sex as she'd thought. This was
someone who wanted to take complete control of
her, to reduce her to some kind of sex slave or
worse. She couldn't let that happen, she had to
fight it. If she didn't fight it, who knew what
might happen?
Was this what had happened to Milly? Had
Milly been brainwashed at this place? And Carol
Finger! That explained her disgusting
transformation. Now Kate wasn't just angry or
upset, she ought to be scared, but somehow she
wasn't.
She tried again to fend her off her seducer,
struggling. This time she almost succeeded in
sitting up.
Amaka wrapped her arms around her and began
whispering in her ear. "You can't get away now,
you're too far gone, honey, so horny. Now relax
for me, relax now..."
Kate felt herself responding to the
suggestions and said, "No!" She twisted around,
trying to get away. Amaka was still breathing in
her ear, "You can't resist me. Give in. You want
to give in. You want to come too bad. Close your
eyes, now. Sleep for me. Sleep..."
Kate continued to squirm against her
attacker, trying to get away, trying not to
listen, but her sense of touch, made
hypersensitive by the massage, made the struggling
contact more and more erotic. When she fought to
keep her eyes open despite the hypnotic
suggestions she felt her sexual arousal grow
irresistibly, and when she tried to concentrate on
controlling her sexual instincts her eyelids
refused to stay open.
Little by little she felt herself relaxing
back onto the examining table. She ordered her
body to obey her, to throw off this female
collaborator with the forces of patriarchy, but
her body had already sold out to the pleasurable
sensations Amaka could produce.
Amaka's hands were once again exploring her
body, forcing her to respond against her will.
Kate felt helplessly half angry, partly
frustrated, but more and more she felt another
sensation, an undeniable sensation, not quite a
buzzing but something rather like it, that seemed
to pervade the whole area between her legs and
fuzzy mound just before it. Amaka's hands were
there, making her feel this way.
As the sensation grew it drove before it all
her other thoughts and feelings. She heard
herself gasping for breath, felt her hips bucking
violently against the table, felt her vaginal
muscles, all her muscles, suddenly contract and
squeeze tight and her breathing stop for an
instant, and then the first orgasm she had had
since high school, since before she joined the
movement, came flooding over her like a hot tidal
wave, like a wall of lava, like nothing she could
even imagine, and she felt her little remaining
will slipping away and her whole self, mind and
body, fall under the power of the beautiful black
woman.
Two hours later Amaka was smiling as a dazed
but dreamily smiling Kate Harridan stood up to go,
still a little shaky. "I'm so happy it turned out
those headaches were just stress related, Ms
Harridan. If you just listen every day to the
tapes and take the pills Dr. Bock put in you bag,
you'll be pleased with the change." Amaka
instructed, not adding that she knew someone else
who would be even more pleased.
*****
Milly did not expect an immediate
transformation; instead she just smiled at the
slow improvements she began to notice in Kate's
demeanor and wardrobe. Week by week the hem of
her boss's skirts crept up until they were a
really impressive six inches above the large
woman's knees. The severe bun gave way to tight
curls with sexy highlights. Some criticized the
large loopy earrings that appeared in Kate's newly
pierced ears and other thought the bangles were
not serious enough for the head of NAG. High heel
strap sandals and brightly painted toe nails also
signaled that something was afoot. Kate's blouses
got frillier and when they became translucent,
Milly noted that Kate's respectable boobies were
on display in some eye-catching bras whose colors
matched those of the blouses.
For a few days Milly feared that Kate was
getting dolled up with an eye to making passes at
her or some of the other women at NAG. In an
organization like theirs, several were of that
persuasion. Even before Kate's transformation,
Ethel Parker in Accounting had lusted for the
shapely head of NAG. The slim woman was always
attracted by opposites. She had dreamed of
removing Kate's thick jacket and heavy blouse and
getting her bony fingers on that overflowing set
of jugs. She yearned to pull down one of those
wool skirt and peel off the opaque pantyhose to
get her henna curls between Kate's plump legs.
The very thought of the effort required to get
Kate naked almost exhausted her, but Ethel
reckoned there was enough Kate underneath all
those clothes to be worth it. Now that Kate was
sporting mini skirts with stockings and revealing
blouses, Ethel was shivering with lust.
Ethel's desire for Kate was apparent to Milly
who knew she would have to be alert. Nothing
untoward must developed before she could get the
sexy redhead some professional help from Dr.
Bock. Her worries about Kate, however, vanished
when Milly saw how her boss enjoyed flirting with
and teasing the bicycle delivery boys. The
President of NAG became a real hit the young men
as she bent over to sign for packages, making sure
her skirt hiked up almost to her crotch and
setting her titties to bob tantalizingly. She
didn't seem to mind when the same boy returned to
have her sign two or three times for the same
item.
Milly would have been equally amused had she
been able to observe the daily vignettes that had
developed at Kate's apartment. One morning soon
after Kate started dressing a little more like a
woman, she got a single, almost deferential little
wolf whistle from a worker at the construction
site across the street. Kate flashed him a grin
and rewarded him with an extra swing of her hips
as she slid her shapely ass into the little Neon.
The next day several pairs of masculine eyes
awaited Kate's emergence from her building. The
sight of a healthily built lady with a skirt cut
closer to her waist than her knees and whose hips
rolled provocatively as she undulated toward her
automobile, did not disappoint them. A whole
flute section of whistles and trills registered
the men's approval.
Fortunately, Kate was punctual so she caused
little disruption to the construction schedule
when every morning at exactly 7:25 all activity
stopped. Seventy five men waited to see what bit
of exaggerated exhibitionism the hot broad across
the street had in store for them that day.
Whatever it was always drew a chorus of approving
hoots and cheers. Kate loved the effect she had
on all those burly men. Of course all those burly
men had quite an effect on Kate, too. During her
drive to work she had quite a tingle between her
legs that forced her to steer with one hand much
of the time. By her arrival at the office the
first few days, her panties were too soaked to be
worn. She coped by donning `Lite Days' and
changing the pad first thing.
Although Kate's headaches were gone, Milly
noted that her boss still was not entirely well.
She seemed distracted and had difficulty
concentrating. Milly smiled, remembering how
antsy she had felt before she met Horse. Several
times when Milly walked into Kate's office
unexpectedly, she glimpsed Kate quickly
withdrawing her hand from between her legs. She
decided Kate was ready for the proffered help.
One day soon afterward Kate returned from
lunch to find a package on her desk. "Milly, what
is this doing here?," she asked.
"I ... er ... it's ... uhh ... something
I got for you, ma'am. I thought you might you
need it."
Puzzled, Kate opened the package. "Milly!
This looks like a ..." she gasped, looking at the
long cylindrical object.
"The batteries go in there," Milly said
shyly, pointing and trying to keep everything
matter of fact. "I put in a fresh set of Eveready
Energizers."
Kate turned beet red and ordered Milly out of
the office. Disgusted, she thrust the object into
the bottom drawer. Try as she might, though, she
couldn't get it out of her mind. She had already
changed pads once that afternoon; it was hard to
wait for five o'clock to go home. She didn't make
it. About 4:30, Kate told Milly to hold all her
calls and a soft hum interspersed with muffled
moans and sighs began emanating from Kate's
office. Milly was still hearing them when she
left for her night with Horse. Next morning, she
found a more serene Kate asleep on the couch in
her office. Milly made a note to send out for
more Energizers.
A few days later Milly got the call she had
been expecting. "Yes, sir, I gave it to her." ...
"I think so, sir. She took it home and she's been
coming in late." ... "If you say, sir."
With some trepidation, Milly spoke into the
intercom. "A Mr. William Jenkins on the line for
you, ma'am." ... "He didn't say, ma'am."
"What do *you* want, Bill?" Kate demanded
sourly. There was no reason to feign civility.
Bill Jenkins was President of NARM (National
Association of Real Men). His organization of
male chauvinist pigs was opposed to everything NAG
stood for. The fact that Bill had dumped her for
that skinny blonde bimbo at Berkeley had nothing
to do with her distaste for the man.
"Ahw, don't be that way, Katie," Bill
pleaded, perhaps forgetting how she *hated* being
called "Katie." "I thought it was time NAG and
NARM buried the hatchet, you know, start to work
together as partners.
"Partners? In what, for heaven's name?"
"Go out to dinner with me tonight and let me
explain." he entreated.. "Please?"
Kate was about to hang up on the asshole, but
something made her hesitate. Perhaps it would be
droll to hear how Bill Jenkins thought the
organizations he and Kate headed could be
"partners." "Pick you up at 8:30?" he asked.
Kate surprised herself with the pains she
took to look her best. She had been wondering
when she would wear that rather daring little red
leather mini she had picked up a few days ago on a
whim. Well, why not? Let the bastard look, for
all he good it would do him. He had always been a
leg man. In fact, why not *tease* him a little?
Make the old goat regret fucking that blonde who
had a waist twice hers by now, Kate would wager.
A deliciously wicked thought crossed her mind.
Did she really need a bra? Her tits were big
girls; they could take care of themselves. The
stupid man had passed up many a happy night
pleasuring these babies just because the blonde
minx opened her legs for him the first time they
were alone together, Kate thought with disgust.
Kate considered going without panties, too --
that would give him an eyeful -- but rejected the
idea. For some reason she was *pretty* damp down
there tonight. She didn't want to soil her skirt.
The red fishnet stockings would be a nice touch.
Four inch heels were good enough for the office,
but she decided on the fire-engine red five-inch
pumps for tonight. Finally she dabbed on
"Midnight Assignation." Marie? Hadn't that been
the bitch's name?
Kate couldn't understand the way Bill squired
her into the restaurant, seeming to treat the
occasion as a date rather than a business meeting.
She tried to turn the conversation to professional
matters but found it difficult over the arucula
and radiccio salad, broiled lobster, and a fruity
Australian white wine. Bill repeatedly deflected
her questions with witty stories that kept Kate
tittering. The pig was a great raconteur; always
had been, now that she thought of it. Letting him
refill her wine glass that third time could have
been a mistake; it didn't get her any closer to
understanding his ideas of partnership.
She had even less success on the dimly lit
dance floor. Kate had forgotten how much fun it
was to be whirled and twirled around by a man who
really knew those old steps that few people did
nowadays. When the music turned slower and she
felt his hands caress her buttocks, it just felt
so natural to melt into his arms and let him hold
her close. Snuggling her head against his
shoulder didn't really mean anything romantic; it
was just a social ritual. But it was certainly
not conducive to serious talk about institutional
partnership.
No, Kate realized, if she was going to find
out what Bill had in mind for NAG and NARM
collaboration, she would just have to go back to
his house with him as he suggested. If she had
not been having so much fun, Kate would have been
really annoyed at all this beating around the
bush. In the car with his arm around her was the
same. Would this bear of a man ever get serious?
Why did he want to have a liqueur on the couch
before he would out with it? It was very nice of
him to tell her how pretty she looked, but what
did that have to with his idea of partnership?
And flattering though it was that Bill though she
had pretty legs and wanted to see more of them,
pushing her dress up like that was quite naughty,
though it did make Kate laugh.
Well, that she had a great set of jugs was no
news to Kate! She guessed there was no real harm
in letting him unbutton her blouse to admire them
better. In fact, it had its practical advantage.
If Bill had been kissing her man melters, as he
was now, through the material of her blouse, what
a dry cleaning bill she would have!
Men! They could go to the moon and explore
continents but needed help with the zipper of a
woman skirt! She hated to think of the commotion
if she hadn't been clever enough to leave the bra
at home. Oh, that was nice. Having her titties
kissed while a hand wormed it way into her panties
was a lot more exciting now than she remembered
from the back seat of Bill's automobile in
college. My Goodness! Bill Jenkins had learned a
few things about women in the last twenty years,
Kate reflected. She was sure he would never have
know how to put his mouth down *there* in college!
Uhh! "A few things?" My god, a lot! When had he
pushed aside her panties? He had his tongue in
her ... UUU! ... He was going to make her ...
AAAH ... yes, she was about to ...
"Ahiyouuuuu!" Kate wailed as she came.
After that, the exact sequence of events was
a bit fuzzy, but they included Kate tottering
upstairs a few orgasms later in just her panties
and heels. Bill's hand on her shapely ass
provided the needed guidance. Somehow the
panties, too, disappeared and Kate found herself
lying on her back, red spikes pointed to the
ceiling with a naked Bill Jenkins looming over
her. His prick was about halfway into her very
wet pussy and sinking deeper! Kate knew she was
about to orgasm again.
Moments later another inhuman shriek pierced
the midnight calm.
"Oh shit!" Bill thought Of all the times for
his home security alarm to malfunction, why *now*?
He scrambled down to the basement to turn the
infernal contraption off as quickly as possible
without disturbing the aroused woman lying naked
in his bed, but when he returned, he saw the spell
was broken. With fire in her eyes Kate was down
in the living room with her panties back on,
pulling up her skirt and searching for her blouse.
"You son of a bitch!" Kate hissed. "You
deceitful, low life, treacherous scoundrel. Why
waste abuse on a snake like you? Take me home
this instant!"
Kate Harridan when she was riled, brooked no
dissent. A chastened Bill Jenkins meekly opened
the car door for the fuming woman. She slammed it
closed herself. "But Katie ..." he tried to
explain as he slid into the driver's side.
"Shut up! I don't want a peep out of you!"
Kate glowered. There was nothing Bill could do
but start the car and point it in the direction of
Kate's apartment. To break the silence he slipped
a cassette in the tape player.
Kate was furious, as wrought up as she ever
remembered being. As with most women, when she
was angry with herself, she projected her ire
outward. What a creep! How could Bill Jenkins
think she would fall for that romantic evening
routine? Bill Jenkins playing the gentleman!
What a laugh! Bill Jenkins was no gentleman. He
was a rogue, a cad. The machista pig's idea of a
good night with a woman was probably to throw the
bitch down on a hardwood floor and fuck her
senseless.
Kate bet he'd done it enough times, too,
starting with that dumb blonde in college. Bill
sure had the equipment for it. Kate eyed the
bulge in his pants knowingly. Silly women didn't
stand a chance with men like Bill. Just like that
college floozy, they would glimpse a prong like
Bill's and get so horny they couldn't keep their
legs together. Any man with a prick the size of
Bill Jenkins's was dangerous. Kate had never seen
a package that size in a pair of pants. Bill
probably had women falling over him, hot little
numbers half his age that welcomed him into their
warm wet fuck holes in a trice. Gad how she hated
him!
"O. K., Katie. Here we are." Bill said at
last. "And I really am sorry about ..."
"I thought I told you not to speak!" Kate
snapped. Bill waked beside her to the door in
silence.
"Well!" Kate growled as she turned her key in
the lock.
"Well, what?" Bill asked uncomprehendingly.
"After your disgusting behavior tonight, do
you think you can just dump me on my door stoop
like a sack of potatoes? Get your sorry ass in
here. I want to get fucked!"
It was Zen, Kate later reflected dreamily as
she drifted down from a third orgasm and snuggled
closer to her now sleeping partner. Once she
stopped searching, the meaning became crystal
clear. Bill had his huge part`n'er and damned if
it didn't feel good!
*****
The next few weeks saw a general relaxation
of discipline around NAG headquarters. The
President, frankly, was not setting a good
example, often ducking out on Thursday afternoons
for a long weekend with her new silver-haired beau
and sometimes not straggling back until noon on
Monday.
Fortunately, Kate had loyal staff that
stepped into the breech. NAG's head of Security,
La Toya Ruston, put the fear of god into the
unruly young men in their fancy cars who were
causing havoc, queuing up for their dates every
afternoon. Olivia Fuentes in Research tried to
keep up a semblance of a media program. Victoria
Chung of Personnel relentlessly docked the pay of
girls who couldn't wait until quitting time to get
started on their evening trysts.
One would have expected Milly to help hold
the fort, but Milly was facing one of life's big
decisions. A little queasiness one morning
brought something to mind she had not thought
about for a while. She had been having such a
great time these last four months, but she
realized that since visiting the Clinic, she had
been forgetting to re-fill her prescription for
contraceptives. With the exception of Wentworth
who was always responsible, she hadn't had much
protection. When she got going with Carlos or
Albert or especially with Horse, she just didn't
have the heart to insist that they stop to put on
a condom and she sure as hell didn't spoil the
moment by making them pull out before they came.
Olivia would have made a more exact calculation.
Milly's was rough. Let's see ... three men,
twice a week each for four months, average, say,
four times a night times maybe three oz. per come
... Hum. About two gallons of semen by her
reckoning. Yep, she was probably pregnant.
Waiting until the baby was born was not the
best way to assign paternity; it weakened her
bargaining position. The decision was too serious
for "enney, menney minney moh." A more objective
method was required and the answer was pretty
obvious. Wentworth had even more money than Horse
and was a lot more malleable. Of course Milly
expected his lawyers to try to push him into a
stingy pre-nuptial agreement, but she and Wenny
would pay a visit to Dr. Bock to talk about the
baby and she was sure Amaka could give her fiancee
enough backbone to stand up to a few lawyers.
Besides, Wentworth would need Amaka's help to
"remember" that night he had begged Milly not to
make him use a condom and not to wonder why their
baby was a lot darker than either he or Milly.
Horse, Carlos and Albert were not too happy
when Milly informed them she would not be able to
see them quite so frequently once she was married.
They were mollified, however, when she promised to
introduce them to some of her friends. The ones
she had in mind were taking work far too
seriously, anyway, and needed a little more fun in
their lives. Milly scheduled appointments with
Dr. Bock for Olivia, Victoria, and La Toya.
*****
The group wedding of Kate and three NAG
officers was the socio-political event of the
season. Angelica Lopez headlined the "Style"
spread "They're All `New Feminists' Now." The
photo caption said it all, "...from left to right
the party comprised Mr. Charles, "Horse" Jones
and his bride, Victoria Chung Jones; Mr. Carlos
Valdez and bride La Toya Ruston Valdez; Mr.
Albert Wu and bride Olivia Fuentes Wu; and Mr.
William Jenkins, President of NARM and bride
Catherine Harridan Jenkins, President of NAG.
Accompanying the party were Mr. Wentworth Stokes
and wife Mildred Stokes with infant; and Dr.
James Bock of the Board of Directors of NARM and
companion, Ms. Amaka Ebe"
The touching photograph showed a delicate
Victoria with her dark, straight hair and almond
eyes smiling blissfully as the huge basketball
player looked down on her in adoration. Heaven
help the man who so much as *looked* the wrong way
at his darling Vickie. No bantam rooster could
have been more proud than Carlos at the side of
the broadly grinning black woman who may have
doubled his weight. Olivia and Albert were
oblivious to the camera, lost in each others eyes.
Kate in her surprisingly short bridal gown beamed
as Bill held her around the waist like a prized
possession. It was only a fluke of the camera
angle that enabled a close observer of each
bride's belly to note that someone had jumped the
gun by serveal months on starting a family.
The photographer had not thought it seemly
for a family newspaper to include the adjacent
tableau of considerable human interest. In it, a
thin fiery redhead stood grinning, very proud and
very pregnant, in the middle of the other four
Wizards starters who were looking quizzically at
each other.
The End
Comments, please, to:
Homer Vargas
the_story_writer@yahoo.com
I wish to acknowledge inspiration from "Downing
Street" and someone else who does not wish to be
acknowledged without blaming them for the
execution. I also wish to thank "Gary Grant," who
ought to be writing himself, and who will
recognize his input.
___________________________________________________
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex
with strangers. But it isn't okay to *HAVE* unpro-
tected sex with strangers!! You only have one body
per lifetime, so take good care of it.