Themes: tg, forced feminization 

------- Legend -------
*bold*
_This_is_underlined_
/Italic/
--------------------


  General standard generic disclaimer: If you are
offended by sex, rape, men being turned in to women,
sodomy or homosexuality; if reading such material is
illegal in your area or you are under age, then do not
read this story. General standard generic end to
general standard generic disclaimer - you have been
warned.

	"If you don't stand for something,
	You'll fall for anything."
	 - A slogan I once saw on a button

"Degraded Assets"
By Quiet Savage

Part 1 of 6 - "Pride came first - it was the light"

	Missy was the office's wet dream. Yes, she was kind
of thick in some areas but overall she was well above
average. Except for a more modern sensibility -
clothing, hair style, makeup techniques - Missy was a
throwback to America's glory days, not the 12 year old
girl look so popular today. A real Gil Elvgren's come
to life. Missy took after the greats: Marilyn Monroe,
Mamie Van Doren, Jane Russell. She had a passing
resemblance to Jayne Mansfield. All the right assets
were her's - ample bosoms, a fat ass and a perfect
beautiful face. And mentally she was just as
attractive - openly flirting with her coworkers and
the customers. She liked to show off her body always
wearing low cut tops and tight, if conservative,
skirts. And there was an odd feature that some men had
noticed - right on the edge of her breast, often
peeking out, was a small tattoo. Unless you stared
directly at it and concentrated on reading the tiny
letters you never knew exactly what it said. The
tattoo read, "Slut."

	But for all her overly made up face, exaggerated
features, provocative clothing and flirting ways Missy
never wanted to cross the line to actual "slut hood."
In the few months that she had been a secretary there
she had never once taken up one of the many offers
made to her. The men in the office had concluded that
she was nothing but a cock tease who enjoyed turning
them on just to leave them frustrated. What they
didn't know was Missy had some secrets. First, and
most notable, she had some "extra equipment" tucked
away under that skirt. Second, A few short years ago
she had been the male boss of this office. and,
lastly, she was in love.

	Missy's girlfriend, Kate, was a very strange bird
indeed. The age difference between the two was greater
than normal. When they met Mike, Missy's former self,
was only 22 while Kate was an elder 33. But was she
hot! And fast! After their eyes locked at that party
years ago it was only three hours flat before they
were in his car doing it, and doing it hard.

	Kate was the architect of all he was this day. The
young man was "innocent" and unprepared for anything
other then a straight vanilla relationship. She had
blind-sided him by giving him exactly what a young man
wants - excitement, action and sex. And lots of it!
Over a three-year period she had corrupted his mind
and led him down the road to sissyhood. And the part
Kate was most proud of? To the world, even in Missy's
own mind, she had chosen to become what she was today.

	Kate had laid a line, a real head trip, on Mike. Mike
was no ordinary boy or man. At the tender age of 16 he
had entered the business world as a high school intern
and he had showed such talent that by 20 he was the
head of a minor, yet very profitable, corporation. He
was young, ambitious and wealthy. He was, in Kate's
words an "ubermensch". "Beyond Good and Evil" was the
phrase she always used. Those weak useless moral
guidelines that the common man followed? He was above
all that. He was the yin and the yang, the embodiment
of a new order, a new man for a bold new time. There
was no reason for such a man to control his excess,
his wantonness. All those rules were for the common
man - the man who made $35,000 a year; the man, who at
Mike's age, still lived with his parents.

	"Today," she would say, "belongs to the masses. The
masses however don't know what is great, what is
worthless, what is straight and what is honest. They
always lie."

	No, Mike was not a member of the masses. Today
belongs to them, but tomorrow to him. He had climbed
high on his own two feet. He had no reason to follow
their rules. His will to power gave him and excuse, an
out, to do what he wanted. Spoon-fed by Kate, Mike ate
it up. He WAS power, he WAS control and in so
believing he was the perfect victim for Kate's
control.

	Somehow, all the philosophies and ideas didn't quite
sync up, out of context, but that was beyond Mike. The
ideas were interesting and fun and made him feel good
about himself. And instead of thinking and reasoning
Kate kept Mike partying and dancing. Throwing his
money around - expensive cigars and cheap women. The
club scene was not the country club scene and Mike
wanted to be hip - the browns and blacks of the normal
American male were replaced by silken purples and
fuchsias of a metrosexual. All the while he, and his
girlfriend, were scoring with an endless string of
young women.

	That was another bonding point for him and Kate, they
both loved women. And Mike was in a state of constant
arousal for both Kate and the women she provided. With
all those women it would be normal to think that the
attachments between Mike and Kate would loosen but
just the opposite was true. All that those women
provided was empty sex; it was Kate, and only Kate,
that truly understood him. In Mike's mind it was Kate
that loved him and he loved her back. They were in
this together.

	Sex and love were powerful motivators but Mike's real
passion, and Kate's real power over him, came from
drugs. Gutter drugs - Cocaine, heroin, weed - were all
known to him. At first he didn't want to take them, it
seemed against his goals. But Kate made him understand
that while others used these drugs for pleasure or
escape he was using them to improve himself, as tools
to exceed the common limits of the species. The street
drugs kept him hopped up, but the real weapons in
Kate's arsenal were the less common drugs - muscle
relaxers, stimulants, Viagra, tranquilizers and even
psychiatric medications. By giving Mike these she
could produce in him any number of physical and
emotional states. If she wanted him excited or
excitable, clam or gung ho, she could produce that
exact state in his mind or body. And she preferred to
keep him physically weak and mentally placid.

	The drugs and a poor diet were taking there toll on
Mike. Over a few months his body had changed from a
fit healthy male to a small waif of a man. He had
become androgynous. He looked the part of the classic
effeminate gay man. He wasn't though, how could he be?
He and his /GIRLFRIEND/ banged so many women. He had
his share of offers from men but it never interested
him in any way. In fact, he and Kate always had a good
laugh at those "queers" expense. Yes, it was all in
fun. That was a line he would never cross.

	But one come-on was a bit different. One night in the
darkness of a club a straight man tried to pick Mike
up, thinking him a girl. Soon realizing his mistake
the man went on to chew out poor Mike calling him
"sissy", "pansy" and "fag." Kate had spent so much
time building him up and this little man came along
and knocked him right down! To Mike, the "new man" who
was beyond good and evil, it was infuriating.

	Kate saw and seized the opportunity. Sissy? Pansy?
Fag? Mike was none of these! He was above all that.
Kate said if that's what they thought of him he should
throw it back in their faces. Stupid sexual
stereotypes were just that, Stupid! The "new man"
should have a new body. Gone were the technical
constraints of the past; a new sex - a third sex, was
being born into the world. Kate showed him picture
after picture of beautiful she males with large full
breasts, each stroking  their own nine inch cocks. She
regaled him with stories of the power and desirability
of these new creatures. Besides, Kate reasoned to him,
they both liked tits; why not get a set of his own? He
wouldn't have to cut off his cock. He didn't have to
do men. He would still be a heterosexual male; he
would be man plus, double plus even. And if he would
do this for her, if they could share this, then Kate
would be bonded to him forever, a sex life and
marriage like no other.

	At first Mike was shocked, it seemed so over the top.
But as Kate continued the pressure, normalizing it for
him, the idea of a Male/Female hybrid didn't seem so
off the wall. He was living over the top, why not go
for it? In his constant drug induced haze he agreed to
it.

	There were no tricks, Kate didn't have to secretly
slip hormones into his food. Mike went right to a
doctor, a real proper doctor, and told him his plan.
Mike knew how to get what he wanted. He lied and said
he had always been a woman in a man's body, and it was
time for that to change. It was what the doctor wanted
to hear so that's what Mike said. And it Worked!
Thousands of dollars worth of plastic surgery, drugs
and hormones later Mike was a stunning woman. He was
equal to the cute girls of his peer group, even
better. He even picked out his own new name, "Missy."
Very cute and very funny.

	Missy's and Kate's sex life was still amazing and the
women she continued to bring him loved, just loved,
what he was doing to himself. He truly had the best of
both worlds the drive and financial power of a man and
the personal sexual power of an attractive woman.

	The best pay off, and display of his new power, came
shortly after the breast implants. Kate loved to take
her new girlfriend out and show her off to the boys.
Mike thought it was Kate's way of showing her own
power, her way of saying, "look what I have that you
boys never will."

	That night Missy was entered into a wet tee shirt
contest. She hated such vulgar blatant displays of her
body, but what the hell? It was all in good fun and
Kate said it was a good idea - to get him use to being
gawked at. It was at this event that a man hit on her.
It happened all the time now, but Missy recognized the
man as the one from before, the one that had treated
Mike so poorly. With her blond locks flowing over her
shoulders, her eyes clear and blue and her new breasts
in full view she looked at the man and said, "What
makes a /fag/ like you think you could get me? Go away
little man!"

	Then Missy watched the man slump away with a proud
smirk on her face.

	But all good things come to an end, for Missy they
came crushing down. A heart arrhythmia brought on by
excessive drug use landed her in hospital. As Kate sat
by her bed, hand in hand, they both vowed that their
lives would change. The party, the dream, was over. It
was time to get on with life.

	Of course, just because they didn't party, didn't
mean they weren't into kink. When Missy arrived home
she found Kate waiting with a chastity. The rules
were simple - it got removed, and Missy got off, only
if she did what Kate wanted. And even then only when
she allowed Kate to tie her up.

	At first the tasks were simple, easy to follow, and
Missy was getting off nearly everyday. But then the
tasks became less well defined and subjective - smile
more, be happy, flirt. Till finally the demands boiled
down to one thing, "be sexy."

	Each day it was "be sexy", "be sexy", "be sexy." What
did it mean? Missy wasn't sure. She tried to be sexier
and sexier in the only way a man understands, by
sluting herself up. But it didn't always work. Often
days, sometimes as much as a week, would go by with
Kate judging her, "not sexy enough" and trapped in his
little cage Mike would try harder the next day.

	The nature of their sex life changed - Vaginal sex
quickly became a rare treat and the amount of oral
Missy received declined as well, this man who once
banged three chicks a day was soon happy with a hand
job.

	Then Mike, now Missy, returned to his company after
an extended leave of absence as Kate's personal
assistant. In his drugged out fog he had signed
everything over to the older woman, giving her power
over himself and his assets. Not that he minded all
that much, he and Kate were still together; that was
all that mattered. Besides his lust filled mind was
now as weak as her body, filled only with one thought
- be sexy.

	This day Missy was seated at her desk, outside the
big doors that lead to Kate's office, doing her nails;
her large breasts jiggling with each stroke of her
emery board. So it was when she received a visitor for
Kate, it was Mr. Cone the head of a rival company.

	She was stunned when Mr. Cone was quickly ushered by
Kate into her office, as if she was expecting him.
Kate motioned for Missy to follow her. She watched as
Kate and Cone signed a few papers then shook hands.
Their attention then turned to Missy. Bob, Mr. Cone,
lowered himself  into a large leather chair saying,
"Now that that's done, the question is what to do with
you? MIKE."

	Missy's jaw dropped, Robert continued, "Why don't you
take off your clothes and show us those nice big tits
of yours? MIKE."

	Missy looked at Kate, "Show him, honey."

	As Missy slowly stripped off her dress Bob laid out
what just happened, Mike had been played. Did he
remember a few years ago when Bob Cone sent a man over
with an offer? Did he remember? Did he remember how
he, Mike, had thrown the offer in his face saying that
in ten years the young start-up would be so large it
would run Bob Cone's own company out of the market?

	He looked at Missy now dressed in only bra, panties
and stockings, "I said I wanted to see those Tits!"

	"Off with the bra, Missy!" Kate added.

	Bob's eyes grew as the strapless bra popped off, "How
big are those things?"

	"40 DD." Kate laughed.

Bob told the now shamed girl to put her heels back on
and do a few spins around. He continued his narrative.
$10 million for an $8 million company was so very
generous, but it was not enough for the young man who
found instant wealth with an investment of a few
thousand. And did he remember what he said? Bob hoped
he remembered because it was simply the best part!
Mike had said those years ago, "I'll never sell to
that cocksucker Cone, who probably has to wear his
wife's panties to get off."

	Well, Mike? Who's wearing the panties now? And you
wear them so well.

	Bob now smiled at the lovely creature standing naked
before him, "You see that's when I hired Kate. At
first all I wanted to do was destroy you and your
company by keeping you distracted. But as it became
clear that you had fallen under her power more
completely then could have been predicted I realized I
could do so much more with you."

	Missy so transfixed and shocked by the story had not
noticed Kate sneaking up behind her. She pinned the
younger girl's arm behind her and forced Missy down
onto her knees. Bob was unbuckling his pants, "You
know Mike, or 'Missy' I guess, I understand A is A.
Cocksucker? Now, that's an interesting word. Words
have meaning, they are the foundation of how we
understand things and relate to each other. Wouldn't
you agree, COCKSUCKER."

	Missy was now vainly struggling against the stronger
Kate as she was pushed across the floor to Bob's
waiting prick. She was crying out, whining, "NO! NO!
I'm not gay! I won't do it."

	He pushed down ruthlessly on her head, "it's not gay
for a gal to give a fellow a blow job."

	She was then warned that if Bob felt any teeth he
would belt her across the face and knock every last
one of her pearly whites out.

	He was moaning, she was on the verge of vomiting. The
head of his cock was moving over her tongue. It was
sick, it was disgusting. And as she felt him tighten
and spurt into her mouth she tried to pull away but
found her head held fast.

	She was now a cocksucker, a real cocksucker, and she
could never go back. Her view of reality was crashing
and burning all around her. That body, that body she
had paid so much for had but one purpose and she now
knew what it was, sex. Her body was made, shaped and
molded, to turn on and be used by men. Missy had been
fooling herself that she could walk that line so
closely. Most lines in the sand have some coming back,
but this was not one of those times or places. She now
saw that it was not a line at all, it was a precipice.
She had now crossed over, she had been pushed off the
edge.

=====

	"Fuck - (also f*ck, f**k, f***, ****, f-k, f---) 1.
to copulate
	... 3. semen 4. any sex act leading to orgasm. This
	includes all homosexual acts and other practices
	which are covered by the term 	'sodomy' 5. a woman
	considered as a sex object, as in the phrase
	'a good fuck.' ... 8. to cheat, deceive, or ruin"
		from "Slang and Euphemism, Abridged Edition"

Part 2 of 6 - "Shiny things from on high"

A, B and C; these were the choices before her. Each
was represented by a sheet of paper with a different
fate written on it - street whore, corporate slut toy
and housewife. From these limited choices Missy was to
decide the course of the rest of her life.

	She looked them over then looked to the right where a
list of mandatory rules Cone had drawn up for Missy to
follow, to follow despite which ever choice she made,
lay. The rules were designed to ensure that, forever,
Missy would never be a threat to him or the business
world at large. They ran from the obvious - she could
never have more then $1000 in a checking/savings
account and she could never own any stocks, to the odd
- her hair must be at least one foot long and her
clothing can never extend below her knee. There was
even quasi-legal language - "The owner, here after
referred to as 'Master', reserves the right to
reinterpret and revise these rules at any time. Random
checks by the Master to insure compliance..."

	Missy's eyes next darted to her girlfriend, who was
sitting across the desk. She looked so calm and
collected, how could she change so fast and so
completely? Just a few days ago they were so close,
now she had sold Missy's company for her own profit
and was about to sell Missy herself into slavery.
There had to be something left, "Kate? I..."

	"Do not forsake me, oh my darling", came a sarcastic
tone cutting her off. Missy's eyes shot to the other
end of the desk Where Bob Cone was sitting. He was
pushing his lips out in a funny pout. It looked
comical on his face but, Missy realized, it would look
damn sexy coming from her full lips.

	He continued, "Don't look to Kate for help. She has
what she wants from you, now it's time for the men of
the world to get what they want from you. And it's up
to you to decide precisely how you will provide it. So
be a good little pet and try to focus on the task at
hand."

	Missy averted her eyes, "none of these..."

	"What? 'None of these are acceptable?' Is that what
you were going to say? Well, that's sort of the point,
isn't it then? You'll soon learn that you don't get to
decide what's acceptable, a cocksucker like you
doesn't have that right."

	The word, cocksucker, cut into Missy; the memory and
taste of her first blowjob were still fresh in her
mind and mouth.

	Bob continued, "If you don't make a decision by the
hour, I will! And tranny whore it will be! There's a
'nice' black man downtown that's going to have a lot
of fun turning you out. You won't walk so proud or
talk so loud after you've had a dozen cocks a night in
each of your holes."

	A shiver went down Missy's spine, street whore was
definitely out. Kate and Bob had explained the
lifestyle each choice entailed and the horror of being
forced into the life of a street whore was
particularly horrific. She never considered it a
viable option.

	Bob didn't consider it a legitimate option either, it
was just there as a threat to force Missy into
deciding between the other two. However, Bob thought,
wouldn't it be a hoot, and revealing about Missy's
true nature, if she would choose it.

	The other two, the real choices, were meant to
inspire a separate kind of terror of their own in a
man. Corporate slut - being a kept woman, a very
nicely gilded cage indeed. Luxury and fashion would be
hers, but it would still be a cage. She would be
required to have an active social life, to be the play
thing of every man who would ever come in contact with
Bob's company. Many of whom she had worked with or
pushed around when her name was "Mike." She would have
to see them everyday and they would know that she was
the "go to girl" to relieve their tension. She would
always be THAT girl in the boardroom. And many, if not
most, would be in on her secret. She would be an
object lesson, the kind of thing usually relegated to
urban legend in the dark corners of the corporate
psyche, "don't cross Mr. Cone," they would whisper,
"he can do some very bad things, look at Missy."

	Housewife was little better - no luxury or fashion,
the cage would be much more bleak. A life wasted away
on such mundane things as cooking and cleaning. But,
there would not be hundreds of men, just one. One man
she would be completely subservient to. And her hell
would be private, no public displays of submission; no
object lessons for others to stare and marvel at, just
a slow burn into nothingness.

	Right now it was the choice itself that was
important. In the end Missy would be a toy for along
time to come, and Bob had such devious plans for his
toy. Both choices would lead to her destruction and
his pleasure. But right now the game was simple - fool
her into thinking she has some say in the matter, then
make her do what he wanted anyway. Years down the
road, when Missy was completely broken and lost to the
world, Bob could point to this exact moment and say,
"it's your fault, Missy, you should have chosen
better."

	There was a fourth choice - Missy could start
screaming bloody murder and hope for a rescue. It had
crossed her mind. But Kate had bested her so easily,
forcing her to Bob's crotch. Missy was sure she would
be tackled, chained and neatly delivered to that "nice
man" downtown. It was enough of a threat to send the
thought fleeing from her head.

	An antique clock on the side table started to chime.
Bob smiled, "The chimes of Big Ben! What's it going to
be?"

	She looked at the papers, it was go time. Which would
it be? She passed the paper across the desk.

	Bob grinned, checkmate! He laughed out loud, "It's
your funeral. Kate, you know what to do."

	She reached for the phone. The paper read "house
wife."

	Bob then launched into a monolog," I knew deep down
that's what you wanted. I know little about psychology
and I know in every would-be titan of industry there
is a 'little woman' hiding. An anvil inside a hammer,
and you have gone so easily from a hammer into anvil."

	The words again cut into Missy, raking across her
mind, inspiring both shame and fear. She had flipped
so easily, not only choosing to become a woman, but
custom designing her body's sex bomb look. Kate had
said B-cups were fine, but Missy had balloons
installed. Kate said narrow hips were ok but Missy was
not satisfied, even going so far as flying to a
European clinic to have exotic hip implants put in.
Thin lips? A little lipstick goes a long way Kate told
Missy. Missy went to the surgeon with a blanket demand
"whatever it takes", she wanted her face, her lips,
"fixed." Kate had not directly opposed these
decisions, in fact she was happy to wink and say Mike
had done the right thing afterwards, but she had not
encouraged him either. Mike's predilection to overdo
things, to do them to perfection, had been turned
against him. Now he would be overdoing homemaking and
learning to suck his husband's cock to perfection.

	Bob continued, "You've been a schizoid man... er...
woman. Living out of harmony with your true nature",
he was clearly mocking her with a crooked grin on his
face, "But soon darling, we'll have you living in
harmony. After all women, like you Missy, like to
server men and men like to fuck women like you."

	"The world is not a free for all. We can't have you
flaunting that body of yours around then going home to
your 'lesbian' girlfriend, there would be fall out.
That", and he stretched and emphasized the next word,
"H-O-M-O-S-E-X-U-A-L life style is death. And what you
did with Kate was the dance of the dead. We can't have
you being the 'girl who was death' leading everyone
astray. We can't have that at all."

	To Missy this was a strange disturbing speech. To her
she was a heterosexual male who for what ever reason,
by hook or by crook, now had the body of a female. She
even had all the essential equipment, secured away in
it's chastity as it may be. To her sex with Kate, or
any woman, was normal and healthy. Sex with men on the
other hand, that was wrong, disgusting. Her body shook
with the understanding that she would be the bottom,
the "catcher" and not the "pitcher", to her new
husband. She even wondered if he would ever allow her
escape from her chastity, or keep her forever locked.

	There was a knock on the door. Bob waved for Kate to
open it, "The arrival! Your once upon a time is about
to begin."

	Kate greeted Missy's former chauffeur. As he leered
at the bare breasted sissy behind the desk Kate
finally spoke up, "I don't think you need to be
introduced, but your new husband here wants to
introduce you", she giggled, "to 'The General'"

	Missy didn't know who 'The General' was but the on
coming reality that this was her new "hubby" was
dawning and horrifying her. Bruce was a large man,
linebacker large, and had a history of violence. Missy
remembered the long list of orders of protection
against him that riddled his criminal background check
when she, then Mike, had hired him. Back then this
tendency to violence and his size were good things -
he was to be both a chauffeur and bodyguard. And he
was there for all of Mike's transformation. Missy even
remembered the circumstances of his dismissal. Kate
and Missy were making out in the back seat after a
night out when Kate leaned over and whispered in her
ear that the driver was watching. Missy looked up and
saw, indeed, he was studying them in the rear view
mirror. Missy not thinking shot at him, "keep your
eyes on the road, Bruce! And keep IT in your pants!"
and she closed the privacy barrier.

	After that Missy began to see something dangerous in
his eyes, she had seen it before but now it was
directed at HER! It was something wild, a violent
anger (or lust, Missy wasn't sure) he seemed unable to
tame. It scared her so much that he was soon gone.
Missy couldn't even do it herself; Kate had handled
Bruce's firing. Of all the men she had encountered
since her transformation he was the one that Missy
most feared. And now, she realized, she would have to
be totally subservient to his wishes.

	Missy was soon introduced to "the general", Bruce's
mighty prick. It was large like the rest of him - a
full 10 inches and 2.5 around, the uncut skin gravelly
with veins along the shaft. When Missy first saw it
she tried to flee, this was all getting too real for
her. She had to be dragged kicking and screaming back
to the desk.

	"NO! You can't make me," she wailed, "I won't put
that in my mouth. I'll choke!"

	Missy's fear deepened as she heard Kate hiss in her
ear, "You won't choke. Because, it's not going in your
mouth!"

	Missy was held firm bent across the desk. She felt a
finger invading her, greasing up her passage. Still
she vainly struggled,"No! Please! No! This isn't
right!"

	She then heard Bob's voice, "No Missy, it IS right.
In time you will come to accept that," he then trailed
off, moving back," You must have known, when you were
shooting yourself full of female hormones. You must
have known this is where you would end up. How could
you not? You want it Missy, we'll help you see that.
It is right, it's exactly right."

	Kate had a popper in her pocket; she debated whether
she should use it. It would keep Missy from clenching
up and make her deflowering go all the easier. But it
would also make her light headed and high. Would the
effects relax her or make what was happening all the
more frightening? It didn't matter, Bob would want
Missy in her right mind for this; it's best to see how
it plays out. Such subtleties, such kindnesses, were
best avoided anyway if Missy was going to accept her
new life in any quick order. There are times, like
now, to be ruthless; times to give the pray no
quarter.

	She could feel Bruce now, pushing. Forcing his way in
to her. Stretching her wide," please, it hurts! You're
hurting me!"

	Bob then began to talk in a mock serious tone," We
are gathered here today to join this man and this
woman..."

	She could feel it moving, tearing her wide, ripping
every inch of her. Bruce was more than excited, he was
fond of taking real girls anal virginity, and the site
of his former boss; the person that had been the
object of his lust and angry scorn; beneath him was
profound. He would enjoy breaking her, getting her use
to and even willingly accepting, his cock on a daily
basis.

	"To have and to hold? In sickness and health? Till
you let her up?"

	"I Do." Bruce moaned

	"And do you Missy pledge to love 'the general' and
obey Bruce through..."

	Bruce was now slowly moving in and out, reaming
Missy's battered hole. The overwhelming pain from his
invading cock and her inability to do anything to stop
it's violation of her had reduced Missy to tears and
she was quietly sobbing, "please stop.. please..
please.. please..."

	Bob looked down at the grimace on her face and
listened to her soft pleas, "I'll take that as 'I
do.'"

	With Bruce's heavy weight and deep penetration now
nailing Missy firmly to the desk Bob lifted himself
off her. He walked over to a side table and picked up
a glass. Wrapping the glass in a handkerchief he
listened as Bruce groaned filling Missy with his thick
white essence. Bob put the package on the floor and
just as he had crushed Missy's manhood he crushed the
glass with his loafer. He, Kate, Bruce and Missy were
all now bound in an unholy marriage, "many happy
returns."

To be continued...

Copyright 2004 Quiet Savage
quietsavage@yahoo.com
/~qsavage/