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Saturday, July 31, 2004

 

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DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "A little Power..."

[Version Control : Original.]

[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are
not of age to view it, be somewhere else. This series of stories
explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might
offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]

Anything can happen in the Multiverse. Even a world that
is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't. A world that is a
magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind. A
world known as: The Darkside.

The World's economic system depends on a delicate
interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt. When
those bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions
crumbled. Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs
when their families were gripped with hunger. The Survivors of
the Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of
Anarchy.


Chapter 9. "A little Power is a Dangerous Thing." -- by KTM.


Rebecca waited in Robert's comfortable study, wrestling
with her confusion. Liz hadn't been added to his bevy of
brain-dead love slaves in his so-called 'harem'. And when she and
Liz had talked this morning, the pretty scientist hasn't acted as
if she had been raped, as Rebecca had in her first 'encounter'
with the Dark man. Had the Devil changed his tune? It seemed so,
but it was too late for her.
One of the orphans that lived in the Palace, acting as an
Imperial Page, and given Rebecca a black rose, and a politely
phrased request for her to join him in his study at noon. She'd
gotten there at 15 minutes before the hour, to find the usually
sealed door wide open, and the room empty.
There were two chairs arranged by the fireplace, and she
sat on the marginally smaller blue one, leaving the massive black
leather monstrosity for Robert. A minute before noon he strode
into the room. His punctuality would have been more impressive if
she hadn't have felt him teleport from somewhere else to just
outside the room in the hallway.
"Good afternoon, Rebecca," he said to her. She was still
holding the dark rose. He was wearing a white rose in the lapel
of his black Italian silk suit.
"Hello, Robert," she said. "What is it you wanted to meet
me for?"
"This isn't easy for me to say," he said, his tone
betraying a faint tension. "I'm asking you to do what you do
best, and read between the lines."
"I will try, Robert," she said neutrally.
"I have never said that I know everything," he said,
gazing away from her. "And it is... possible, that I have made a
mistake concerning you. At times my thinking can be simplistic.
I assumed if I dominated you physically, and sexually, that
mentally you would be mine as well. I can accept that might not
be true. Is it?"
"No, Robert," Rebecca said. "I may do what you say to
avoid having a... 'session' with you, but I rarely find myself
agreeing with you."
He turned back to her, "It has occurred to me, that I need
to respect the people who's intellectual contributions are
important to me and my empire. Liz is one of them, and I found
that respect can be difficult, but not impossible for me. You are
another, and I'm afraid there is already to much 'history' between
us for you to ever fully support me."
His control slipped for a moment, and his face took on a
haunted mein, reflecting the tension that he lived with every day.
"The truth is, Rebecca, that I need you besides me. I need your
will to oppose mine. Your input makes me a better leader.
Because of this, I'm asking you to put aside our differences when
you work with me."
"And in return?" Rebecca said, pushing him.
"And in return..." he said, slowly, "I'll try to respect
your individuality, and to remember that you might not like to be
sexually used, or even casually groped."
"To use someone, and to respect them, are often
contradictory," Rebecca pointed out.
Annoyance flashed over his face, followed by a faint
smile. "I know. And that's what I meant, you can make me mad so
easily, but you always make me think. Give me your hands," he
said. "Please," he added.
She set the rose down, and held out her slender hands to
him. Robert took them in his big square hands, looking at the
contrast between them. He smiled at her, and touched the black
bracelets of her bondage, and dissolved them. He looked at her
collar, but left it on her. He wasn't sure he trusted her that
much, yet.
"I don't need to bind you, anymore," he said. "But you
are still my adversary. You understand."
"I understand that you are threatened by me," she said
fearlessly. "But not why you must humiliate me with a sign of
slavery."
His jaw worked as he fought down an impulse to snap at
her. "Ok. How about this." He touched it, and it softened,
turning into a linked serpentine necklace of glossy black metal.
There was an odd loop on it, that she knew was the connector to
the chain. He had altered the form, but not the function.
"It doesn't help," she said. "I'm still your prisoner."
"But you won't be humiliated anymore, right?" he said.
"Only if you never put me in a public scene without my
consent, as you did with Kitten," she said. "Promise me that, on
your empire, and I'll accept what you're trying to say for now.
But I will wait for the day that you will apologize to me and
truly mean it."
"Lotsa luck on that one, babe," he retorted. "But as for
the public scenes, I can see your point. On my Empire, and my
love of it, I swear never to involve you in a 'scene' in public
without first asking for, and receiving your explicit consent. Is
that what you wanted?"
"That will do fine, Robert, for now," she said. "But
don't think that I'm done working on you."
"Nor I, you, sweety," he said with a grin. "Or haven't
you noticed that you can now contemplate sexual acts that before
you met me would have put your lily white heart into a flutter.
The society you represent is dead and gone, and I mean to drag
it's descendants away from the guilt and obsession over sex."
"And you go too far," she said. "The only society you
represent would have fit in with the rightly infamous Court of
Caligula. Is that what you want for your empire?"
"Perhaps there's a happy medium there," he allowed. "But
it will probably be awhile before we find it."
"Probably," she agreed. "Is that all?"
"Yes," he said. "You can go." She nodded and left the
study, leaving behind the black rose. He pulled the white rose
from his lapel, and studied it's clean perfection. He didn't know
what he wanted to see in it, but he felt that symbolized something
he was missing.

A few day later, on a day when Robert wasn't holding
court, Rebecca was called to meet his first power team. He'd said
they were an interesting group of people, and she had to agree.
Rebecca had already seen two of the nine members, the big
bruiser named Titan, and the young speedster Jerry both of whom
were waiting at the throne room conference table. There were
three other men, and four women ready to be introduced.
Robert stood, "For the record, I'm Robert Black. This is
my advisor, Rebecca White. Seated are Hank Dodds, known as Titan,
and Jerry Conners, known as Blur. I'd like you to introduce
yourself, and take your seat. Alphabetical is ok?" He sat, and
scarcely waited for a response. "Al-Raji," Robert said.
A blue haired young man about Jerry's age stepped forward.
He was of Middle Eastern decent, and wore neat clothes. "My name
is Luke," he said good, but faintly accented English. "I'm a
naturalized citizen, my folks moved here when I was a baby. He
touched his azure hair, "I just got this not long ago, when I
gained the ability to throw around blue energy bolts, and to fly.
I think I would like to be called 'Sapphire'. 'Saf'-'fire', get
it?" he grinned and sat.
Robert rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh, I get it. Barrett,
you're next."
"My name is Joane," said the red-head with green eyes.
Her voice was low and husky, and her chest was quite prominent in
comparison to her waist. Her clothes were well made, of subdued
colors. "My talent can telepathically link a small group of
minds, and for that I am called Lady Web," she sat down as she
said this. "It also tells me if others are telling the truth.
For instance, 'Sapphire' lied about his real name."
"Mr. Al-Raji?" Robert said, his manner questioning.
"I just turned 18," the young man said defensively. "I
hadn't had a chance to change it yet before the courts closed.
I just like 'Luke' better than 'Ali'."
Joane Barrett nodded at his response. "Truth; that you
intended to change your name. Half-truth; that you like the name
better than the one you were born with."
"Alright," Ali said, sounding harassed. "Truth is, I
don't really care, but Americans respond to me better when I use
Luke."
"That may have been important in your last position, Ali,"
Robert said. "But here you are among supporters. Please feel
free to be yourself." The young man nodded.
"Fisher," Robert said. "You're next."
"My name is Karen, and I'm an Iroquois Native American."
She was young, and very muscular for her slender build. Her brown
complexion and raven black hair framed a delicate face that was
set off by a severe expression. "My powers make me strong and
tough. I also have a set of 'shadow' wings I control when I fly,
that I'm told aren't really there. I chose the name Osprey." She
sat down.
"Thank you, Karen. Your turn, Miss Jones." Robert said.
"My name is Charity," said the light chocolate colored
woman. She was short, but nicely rounded. She spoke in a soft,
slow Southern accent. "I won't use a fancy name. All I can do is
feel what other people are feeling. I can't tell if a cold person
is lying, but most folks get edgy and nervous when they lie, so I
can mostly tell when they do. Besides that, I'm not really sure
what I'm doing here."
"You'll do fine, Charity, take your seat," Robert said.
"Melaui?"
"My name is Tim," the Polynesian boy in the loud tropical
shirt said. "My folks came from Fiji originally, but I'm a native
born American. I have the power to teleport short distance in my
line of sight. Luckily I can carry my clothes and anything I have
on me." He smiled. "I wanted to be called 'Prodigal Sorcerer',
but Mr. Black wouldn't allow it. He calls me Warp." He sat down.
Robert smiled. "I don't care for your 'Poke' jokes. I
thought you needed a short name easy to yell. Frequently. Mr.
Peters, if you please?"
"My name is Zechiel," the quiet spoken black man said,
"but everyone calls me Zeke. I couldn't come up with a hero name.
But Mr. Black noted that another term for what I do, telekinesis,
is Teke. That's what we decided on, since it sounds like with my
name." He shrugged and rubbed a hand over his bald head. "He
said my power makes me valuable to him." He took a seat, and
looked as if he wasn't going to say anything more.
"Thank you, Zeke," Robert said. "Mrs. Simmons, you're the
last. Introduce yourself, please."
"Hello," said the older graying blonde in a French-
influenced accent. "My name is Paris, after my parents favorite
city. I have the power to see what is going on elsewhere. Our
employer calls me Seeker." The focus of her eyes turned away,
gazing at nothing. "You asked me to see what the children are
doing in the courtyard, sir. They are playing flag football. The
Blue team is winning." She took her seat.
"I have discussed your options with all of you," Robert
said. "This group has decided to join my Special Forces team.
Ultimately, you report to me, through the team Captain I will
appoint. He will direct your actions, under my orders."
He looked at the big man, "Titan, you've been acting as a
sort of Sergeant of Arms for me. I know you have experience both
in the military and as a mercenary. You understand that not all
of them are combatants?" Henry Dodds nodded. "Will you take
command of the team, Hank?"
"Yes, sir!" Titan said, and saluted crisply.
"Alright, here are your room assignments, and list of
duties. There's also a suggested schedule of drills, but the
final form of that is up to your Captain," Robert said. "If you
have any problems, bring them to Hank. It's his job to bring your
problems to me."
Rebecca shot him a startled look, and then frowned in
concern.
"Ok, people," Titan brayed. "Let's get a move on.
C'mon,"
The black man Zeke, gave him and a cool stare, and walked
to their quarters without an appearance of hurry. The others
didn't make eye contact with the big man.
Rebecca watched them leave, then turned to Robert.
"What? Obviously you have a problem," Robert said. "So,
out with it."
"Have you ever heard of the Open Door Policy?" she asked
him. Robert nodded, in response. "It's a way for a subordinate
to step around his immediate superior if someone in his chain of
command is corrupt. You basically shut that door. If Titan does
something they don't like, they can't come to you about it without
getting into trouble."
"I don't need them whining to me for every petty
grievance," he said, dismissing her concerns.
"What about major grievances?" she said. "There is
nothing worse than being trapped into a corrupt chain of command."
She fingered her black necklace. "I should know."
Robert smiled, "Hey, corruption is the name of the game,
babe. Who ever can get away with doing something, gets it his
way."
"You may find, Robert, that some corruption is even more
than you can stand," she said. "There are already limits that
you've imposed on yourself. Lines you will not cross. So what
will you do if you encounter someone who violates those rules?"
"I'll decide that when I get there, Rebecca. And now it's
time for my lunch." He walked away from the table, trying to
ignore the words she spoke after him.
"I think you'll get there sooner than you wish..."

Titan returned to the Power quarters later that evening.
"Im-fucking-pressive!" he said coming in, ignoring Paris's
disapproving frown at his language. "He's been beefing up his
army big time. It looks like he's stripped the armories of his
whole territories, and drafting the man power to carry them."
He strutted a little. "We're going to have to learn to
use our powers well and work as a team, and soon. The Boss has
made it clear that I'll suffer if the team isn't up to snuff, and
that means you guys will suffer if you don't perform to my
standards. I'm not gonna let him down, so you better not let ME
down!"
He stared at them all in turn, daring them to contradict
him. None of them challenged them. He nodded and went on.
"We'll get started in drills first thing in the morning. So hit
your bunks and get some sleep, people!" With little hesitation,
the varied group of powers went quietly to their rooms.
The only one that paused was Charity, and that was because
Titan was leaning on her door, and he wasn't moving. The Southern
woman stood in front of him, suddenly feeling a chill. "Yes,
Titan?"
"Not you sweety," he said. "You're coming to MY room."
She could feel his rising lust, and her chill spiked to
pure fear. He took her arm in his huge hand, and pulled her
relentlessly to his room. Soon the door to his quarters closed
firmly, cutting off the faint sounds of her tears from the
hallway.
Titan pulled her to the bed, and looked down into her
frightened eyes. "I'm scheduling some extra "empathy" work for
you, Charity," he said with a mocking tone. "You can feel what I
want from you, can't ya pretty girl?" She nodded, terrified of
him.
His hamlike hands touched her cheek, stroking the mocha
colored skin, drawing down, past her chin, her neck, and collar
bone, to dip into her blouse's cleavage. He slipped his whole
hand inside her blouse top, grabbing the fabric and tearing it off
her. His tongue wet his lips, as he stared hungrily at her chest.
Her bra was a soft, front-catch variety, and he unhooked
it brusquely, shoving the cups aside to palm the round globes of
her ample breasts. She gasped in shock as he grabbed her chest,
squeezing her tits firmly. She had to fight the urge to try to
step back or to push away his hands. Her feelings told her he
would punish her if she did, and Charity didn't like pain.
He pulled up on them, forcing her on her tiptoes to ease
the strand he was putting on her flesh. He ducked his head and
slathered his hot wet tongue over her dusky nipples. His mouth
roamed over her tits; kissing, sucking, and licking. She wasn't
sure what was worse, his tight hands, his insistent mouth, or his
grey beard stubble.
He pulled away a fraction, "Rub me!" he growled, and then
lunged at her left nipple, teeth bared. She cried out as she felt
his hard teeth nip at her sensitive nipple. Her hand trembling,
she reached to the front of his pants, and rubbed over the rigid
bulge that she found there. He grunted and thrust against her
hand. He met her eyes again under lowered brows, and didn't even
have to tell her to open his pants. Her hands fumbled to answer
his unspoken demands.
His pole was impressive when she freed it. Like him, it
was big, and nearly bigger around than it was long. Her fingers
lightly brushed the feverish male flesh, before grasping it
tightly. He raised his face, and kissed her brutally. He thrust
his broad tongue deep into her mouth, sliding it wildly inside.
Titan stepped back and said, "Strip!" while quickly taking
off his own black uniform. Her whole body shook as she disrobed,
her eyes like those of a frightened doe, when facing the ravenous
wolf.
He pushed her down on his bed, grabbing her legs, and
dragging bottom to the very edge of the bed. He spat on his
hands, rubbed it on his cock, and stepped between her splayed
thighs to thrust his meat between her cunt lips. The big man's
hands reached down and grabbed her ass, forcing himself to ever
deeper penetration. Brutally, he pulled her tight snatch down on
his thick pole.
She squealed in fierce pain at the burning stretch that
she felt inside. He growled and grunted in a bestial fashion,
leaning his whole weight on her slight form. He was intent on
nothing but to sink his big cock all the way in her, single
mindedly pushing for his goal.
Feverishly he plowed into her, ignoring her cries of pain,
disgust, and muted outrage. His hands worked her ass, twisting
and grinding to get his meat sunk to the hilt. Once he hit bottom
in her, his hands when to her back, pulling her against him,
lifting her, so he could throw their joined bodies more fully on
the bed. He laid on her heavily, and growled at her, "Lock your
legs behind me, cunt, I need my hands free."
Trembling, she complied. His hands clamped down on her
tits, and started mauling and squeezing. He rutted his sex in her
body, puffing like a freight train from the effort of his thrusts,
as hard as hammer blows. Charity tried to block out his mind-
numbing lust, knowing that he only wanted to use her body. If she
let herself emotively participate in his arousal, she would let him
think that she enjoyed his vicious assault.
As she suffered through his pummeling from her what she
would freely given for the asking, she tried to think. One of her
abilities was to project intense feelings. She ached to lash out
with her emotive matrix of fear/pain/rage/humiliation mixed with
betrayal and hopelessness in revenge for his assault.
But more than she wanted that vengeance, she feared his
violent response. If those feelings poured into him, he might
simply crush the life of the cause of his discomfort. So she
leashed her terrors, and tried to be stoic about his endless
sweaty invasion of her body.
He became more vocal, and more violent, as he neared his
completion. "Yeah, pretty cunt! Oh, whimper for me, bitch, I
like into hurt. God! I like fucking your unwilling cunt so hard.
I get off on rape more than anything. Can't wait to fuck the
other babes, too!" His hands squeezed her tits harder, creamy
flesh turning white between his thick splayed fingers. "Fuck me
bitch! Squeeze your cunt on me, whore, or I'll rip 'em off!"
Through her pouring tears, Charity deliberately contracted
her cunt muscles around him, as he came for what seemed like
forever inside her. Despite her pain, she began to vicariously
participate in his release with her empathy. He abruptly pulled
out of her and raised to his knees, to finish cumming on her body.
He sprayed his jets of sperm on her belly, giving a barking
laugh while subjecting her to this final indignity. He pulled her
leg out of his way, and sat heavily, as his meat became flaccid.
"Get out of my bed, cunt, and hurry up."
Charity tried to move, with little success. Her pelvis
ached, and her insides felt raw. "I said get off, bitch!" A long
brawny arm reached out and shoved her unceremoniously to the
floor. He laid back on the bed, and wriggled to a comfortable
position. "Now get to your own room, I need my sleep."
She struggled to rise, and managed to start crawling on
her hands and knees towards his door.
"Oh for the love of... Goddamit, you're making a mess." He
lurched up, grabbed her by the waist, and lifting her to her feet.
He opened the door and shoved her into the dark hallway. Then he
slammed his door shut.
Charity stood shakily, leaning hard against the wall,
nude. She was dripping with his cum and decorated with his
bruises. She slowly turned to her room, and slid along the wall,
trying not to fall down. She cringed when she heard a door open.
The only thing worse than him coming back after her, was one of
the others seeing her like this.
A fair slender arm slipped around her, and she felt
supported. Together, she and her helper got her to her bathroom,
where a careful and gentle toweling cleaned up the worst traces of
her disgrace. Charity didn't have the strength to shower, so that
would have to do for tonight. The shivering young woman curled up
in her bed in a ball, and looked up miserably at the pale blue
eyes of the older woman.
"Thanks," she whispered.
"Glad to help," said Paris Simmons as she left the room.
'But it's not over yet', she thought to herself.

The next day, a cheerful Titan walked down the hall,
pounding on the doors of his team, shouting for them to wake up.
Charity groaned and slowly washed her self and got dressed. Her
breasts and pelvis ached with pain, and her hips felt unsteady,
but dressed she looked alright. He hadn't touched her face, neck,
or hands. By the time he pounded again on her door, raising his
voice in anger at her tardiness, she was as ready as she was going
to be.
The old bat was staring at him with a disapproving
expression. He glared back at her, unsure of what she might know
or would say, but trying to intimidate her with his stare. She
didn't budge. When he turned around, Zeke was holding Charity by
the arm and looking concerned as she stumbled. Titan strode over
and slapped away the black man's arm.
"Don't coddle the girl," he said curtly. A flare of hot
anger shone in Zeke's eyes, and Titan took it as a challenge. He
balled his fists and leaned his bulk towards the smaller man. "If
you're feeling froggy, Nigger, then why don't you jump!" The eyes
of the bald man turned stone cold, and he would not turn them
away. Titan raised his fist, while power crackled around the
Psionicist.
"No!" Charity pleaded, not daring to touch either man, but
interposing herself between them. "I'll be alright, Zeke," she
said quickly, swallowing hard. "Titan is right." While keeping
her eyes on Titans steely grey eyes, she reached out with her
power, and let a sliver of her terror intersect Zeke's aura. He
jumped in shocked surprise.
"Good girl," the big man said, oblivious to the power she
had used. His smile was half a leer at her, and half a sneer for
the cowardice he perceived in the Telekinetic. "You heard the
girl, BOY, so back off. Let's remember the chain of command and
try to look professional here."
For the rest of the training period, he rode them hard. He
spent the time watching them, while standing aloof. He also was
watching the bodies of the two younger women. Karen avoided him,
and even cool Joanne tended to lean away from the big man when he
got near.
During dinner, he seemed relaxed and happy. Charity
shuddered at something underneath his pleasant facade that none of
the others could see. Titan addressed the team afterwards.
"Based on your performances, I'm restricting some of you to
quarters tonight. You sucked in the exercises and drills, and
obviously need your rest. But don't worry, I'll whip you all into
shape, in time." He smiled wickedly.
"Charity, you need to take care of yourself better.
Paris, you're letting yourself go to pot, lady. Tim, you're gonna
lose some of that baby fat! If I see any of you out of your rooms
before morning, you'll be subject to discipline. And I'm allowed
a bit of leeway in administering that discipline." He smiled
again, and none of them liked it this time. "Dismissed!"
At Joanne's door that night, there was a knock. The red
haired woman opened the door, and saw Titan standing there.
"Miss Barrett? I know that it's late, but there's something I
need you to see in my quarters..."

In the weeks that followed, the Power team had the
occasional day off from their oppression. Paris Simmons, Seeker,
sat patiently awaiting a chance to see Robert during one of the
days he held open court. Her name was one of the last, and the
Steward warned her that Robert sometimes cut off the last few
interviews. However, if the those petitioners turned up for the
next session, they had priority.
She waited anyway, and finally walked into the great room
with her cane, to stand leaning of the polished wood and the
golden point.
"Paris!" Robert said. "Come over to the table," he
invited. He waved at the Steward to end the day's interviews.
"How are you?" he inquired.
"A little tired, sir. Titan emphasizes the physical
training a bit much for my tastes." She smiled wryly, "Though I'm
able to do more sit-ups and push-ups than I have for years."
"I've underlined readiness with him," Robert said, "but he
also has to work within your contracts. Your contract specifies
that you are not a combat operative, and though I can't blame him
for wanting you all physically fit, he shouldn't push anyone too
hard."
"That's what I wanted to tell you, sir," Paris insisted.
"The team is in serious trouble, and it's only going to get worse!
A single disruptive member is being abusive, destroying our
morale."
"Surely Titan can deal with..." Robert began, with a
faintly bored tone.
"It IS Titan, sir!" she interrupted with a note of
desperation. "You have no idea what he's doing to us."
"It can't be all that bad," Robert said. "I'll have a
talk with him, if you like."
"No!" she pleaded. "If you talk to him about this, he'll
just take it out on us. I'm asking you for a meeting with all of
us, where we can tell you what's been happening."
Robert sighed. "The whole reason I appointed a captain,
was so I wouldn't have to hear all the petty bickering. Can't you
just give him your concerns?"
"The last person to do that," she said stiffly, "was
slapped in the face, and required four stitches. I'm told the
official report said that he had 'suffered a fall'. I was there
and I saw the slap, and the blood. We really do need this meeting
with you."
"I saw the report on Zeke," Robert said with concern.
"Alright. I'll schedule that meeting when I have time. The local
U.S. Military is getting aggressive, and I'm having to keep an eye
on the situations."
"Thank you sir," she said, wearily getting to her feet
with the aid of her cane. She mummered softly as she left, "I
only hope that you're in time."


To be Continued...

September, 1997 -- Darkside: United States of Anarchy, Part 9/20.
Series Continues after #20 in Darkside: Imperial States of America.
Archived "://./pub/Authors/WorldoftheDarkside";
Or /~WorldoftheDarkside & greyarchive.

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Thursday, July 29, 2004

 

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Monday, July 26, 2004

 

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Business Studies 09


By Katzmarek


------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Note.


This is a work of erotic fiction. It may not be used for profit
without the author's express permission in writing.
------------------------------------------------------------------


(Part 9)


Nick greets me at the door with a whistle of appreciation and a big
hug. I reach up for a kiss and we're soon Frenching.


He's dressed casually with an open shirt but I notice he's bathed
himself in the cologne I like.


His mouth is hot, his lips caress mine and our tongues play with
each other. His hands explore my back and settle over my bottom,
squeezing, feeling.


I'm pretty sure he now knows my pantyless condition!


He pulls me hard against him, through my dress I can feel how
excited he is. It's almost as if we're naked and my pussy moistens
and tingles underneath the fabric. He could stand me against the
wall, pull my dress up and fuck me if he wanted, I'm SO horny!


Eventually he releases me and I stumble backwards a bit. He takes me
by the hand and leads me through to the lounge. Rachael is standing
there with a drink in her hand. She looks nervous and eyes me up and
down, checking me out.


She's dressed in a simple top and pants, but she could wear
anything, she's so slim.


"Hello Tee," she says casually, "you've dressed up?"


"Yes, "I answer.


She's making me self-conscious.


"I thought I'd go to a bit of trouble," I reply, "y'know."


"Yes, I wish I'd gone to some trouble... myself now... You look
fabulous."


"Thank you," I blush, shyly.


"Where'd you get that outfit?"


Nick wanders off to the kitchen while Rachael and I discuss clothes.
He returns, drinks in hand, and offers me a Rum and Coke.


"Doesn't she scrub up well?" Nick nods towards me.


"You always had a good eye," she tells Nick, "except for that little
scrubber of a housewife..."


"Rachael! We're not here to discuss my..."


"Why not? Tee, did you know about Nick and that lady that owns that
Souvenir shop, on the corner as you go into the Mall?" she laughs.


Nick squirms and walks away towards the window, suddenly
appreciating the view.


"She doesn't have to know..." he mumbles.


"Anne Jackson?" I exclaim, interested, "mum and she play tennis
together!"


"Yes, that's her... Anne Jackson, she must be what, about 50 if
she's a day, Nick?"


"I don't know... something like that..." he mumbles again, clearly
uncomfortable.


"So what happened?" I ask eagerly.


(I'm enjoying this!)


"She approached Nick for some help with choosing an investment
property. I always thought she wanted to get into his pants..."


"You did not!" Nick protests.


"C'mon! I saw the way she was eyeing you up that day. She couldn't
keep her eyes off your arse..."


"You exaggerate..."


"Ignore him," she continues.


She draws me away conspirationally, like a schoolgirl whispering
secrets.


"They had this big affair... Nick said she couldn't keep her hands
to herself. She'd grab his nuts in the car while they were driving to
look at places. They'd be viewing this property and she'd be all over
him like a rash. Nick said she couldn't get enough, apparently her
old man didn't appreciate her, isn't that funny?"


I'm laughing along with Rachael, both enjoying watching Nick squirm
with embarrent.


"They once did it in the back of the shop,"


"You're kidding!"


"Yep... one lunchtime... locked the doors and put out the sign...
fucked the lights out of each other over the lunchroom bench."


I tried to imagine the scene. Mrs Jackson is on the heavy side with
big boobs and arse. She'd always struck me as pretty conservative,
dressing always very businesslike. The thought of her bent over that
sink... well... it wasn't a pretty thought!


"He must have been pretty desperate," I tell her, "with her, I
mean..."


"Ah, you're being judgemental," replies Rachael, "you can't always
judge a book by its cover. Take you," she goes on, "I'd never have
thought you'd dress up like that... or have Nick so... completely..."


"Completely what?" I ask.


"Bedazzled! That's a good word..."


"Bedazzled? You think so?"


"I KNOW so. Can I get something clear?" she asks, dropping her voice
still lower, "you don't want to move in with him, do you?"


"You're safe," I re-assure her, "I couldn't live with him, he'd
drive me crazy. He's just a... pitstop for me at the moment... and a
source of financial support for next year."


I tell her all this unashamedly. She needs Nick more than I do and
I'm responding to her insecurity.


"Yeah... ok... good," she tells me, "I've got a little... ah...
source tucked away too. I think Nick knows but doesn't know who."


"I think he mentioned something about you having a sugar-daddy."


"He would! I can't say..."


"I wouldn't ask."


"Good... then it's a straight business arrangement?"


"Yep."


"No worries. Do you know what Nick has in mind... for tonight?" she
asks.


I shake my head.


"Do you?"


"I gather he wants a little show... with us... before joining in, I
suppose. Do you have any ideas?"


"Maybe we could have a little dance together?" I suggest, "that'd be
painless enough and... I guess... take things from there."


"I guess... Have you done this before?" she asks.


"No, have you?"


"Me neither. Y'know, I'm not really the whore he makes out. I
haven't had that many lovers... it's really Nick who comes up with
the ideas for..."


I'm beginning to warm to this woman, her frailty. I'm beginning to
think she's hugely misjudged.


"I see, so he's the one with the imagination?"


"Sure is, " she laughs, "don't get me wrong... we have a lot of fun.
I enjoy most of it, I don't mind camping it up a bit, bit of acting,
it's fun. Nick probably gets into it more though..."


"Yeah, I know..." I think of that night when we sealed our agreement.


"You too?" she raises her eyebrows, "of course he would. Has he done
that little schoolgirl thing where he slaps your arse and stuff?"


I shake my head.


"It's SO hot. Do you like being spanked?"


"I don't think so. I've never had it."


"It really gets me going, especially when he does me afterwards...
from the back... it just comes in one long... I'm surprised you
haven't heard me next door! Y'know," she whispers in my ear, "he's
such a good fuck."


"Have you two finished conspiring yet?" asks Nick.


"Yes dear," replies Rachael, "be right with you."


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


Rachael puts on some slow smoochie music. Nicks watches us from the
sofa, a look of anticipation on his face.


"Shall we dance?" she suggests, holding out her arms, "can you lead
or do you want me too?"


"How about both of us," I reply.


We hold hands and start to swing slowly to the music. We're not sure
what we're doing at first, neither of us are great dancers.
Eventually one hand rests on a hip and the other on a shoulder. Like
that we sort of guide each other around.


Rachael moves close to my ear.


"Are you wearing panties?" she asks curiously.


I shake my head.


"Really! I can't feel any elastic. I guess you couldn't with that
dress. Does Nick know?"


"Suspects, I think. In the hallway when I arrived... we... hugged...
I think he felt it then."


"You're a foxy wee thing aren't you?" she grins, "I bet this guy of
yours walks around with a permanent hard-on."


I chuckle to myself, thinking about Jonno's massive member.


"He'd need to keep it in a sling," I tell her.


"Why," she laughs, " is it that big?"


I nod.


"Oh my," Rachael grins, "how big are we talking about?"


I show her with my hands.


"About this!"


"Goodness! I wonder how that would feel... up you. I don't think I
could take something like that."


"I guess you'd stretch."


"I guess so... still... I wish you luck."


Meanwhile Nick's still sitting on the sofa, legs spread, looking a
little bored.



"Having fun you two?" he asks, sarcastically.


"We're just getting to know each other," Rachael replies, "what's
the hurry?"


"No hurry," he grumbles.


"This is fun," she says, then turning back to me, "I don't really
have any girlfriends, if you know what I mean. Y'know, someone to
gossip and moan to, I don't really have that."


"Why is that?" I ask her.


"Don't know," she looks sullen, "women don't seem to trust me...
especially around their men. I seem to have this reputation as a
Jezebel or something. Particularly after me and Nick had that break
up."


"You ran off with one of Nick's contractors. At least that's what I
heard."


"We'd broken up before that happened!" she snaps back, "and HE can
talk..."


"It's ok Rachael," I say in a calming voice, "I don't really give a
shit anyway."


"I'm sorry," she apologises, "it pisses me off... all the talk... I
mean, no outsider really knows what's goes on inside a marriage do
they?"


"Of course not," I agree.


"Fuck the lot of them!" she spits out.


"Too tiring... anyway, who gets the ugly ones?" I ask, grinning.


"You can... I'll get the rich ones."


"That's not fair!"


We laugh out loud together. Nick gets up grumbling about getting
another drink.


"Y'know?" Rachael says, "I like you."


"Me too," I tell her.


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


When Nick returns, he comes up to us and puts his hands on our
bottoms, guiding us closer together. He arranges us so that our legs
are intertwined. Our pussys, therefore, our now bumping against each
other's thigh.


"That's better," he says and he pulls Rachael's head around and
Frenchs her.


I watch in intimate detail their mouths working together. Nick still
has a hand on our arses and traps us together. His hand is rubbing me
just under the swell of my cheeks, his middle finger presses into my
crack.


Nick withdraws from Rachael who has her eyes closed. When she flicks
them open she looks all dreamy, like she stoned.


I can feel Rachael move as Nick strokes her bottom too. The contact,
his closeness and the sexy kissing just inches from me is beginning
to have an effect. I feel an erotic tension growing around us.


"Now you, sexy," he says to me and bores in.


I need no prompting and open my mouth. His kiss is hot and
passionate. My hands are still on Rachael's hip and I instinctively
pull her harder against me. I can feel her hand, it has left my hip
and is stroking Nick around the head.


On my hip I can feel the pipe of Nicks erection, hard and ready.
Between my legs, Rachael's warm thigh is grinding slowly against my
moistening pussy. My other thigh can feel the warmth of Rachael
sliding against me.


"Oh baby..." Rachaels coos and nibbles Nick on the shoulder.


He withdraws from my lips leaving me wanting more. Of themselves, my
lips try to follow him. I guess I have the same stoned expression as
Rachael.


"Now play kids," he tells us in a low voice.


He puts an arm around each of our shoulders and draws us inexporably
together. He guides our faces closer till we can touch noses, our
breaths mingling.


"Rachael," he says softly, "look at Tee's beautiful face."


Rachael looks into my eyes.


"Those sexy lips..."


She looks down to my mouth.


"... So kissable... Give her a kiss."


She moves in and kisses me on the lips, open-mouthed and sexy. I can
taste lipstick and her mouth has an altogether more delicate feel
than Nick's. She gives a little start and I sense that Nick's
stroking her somewhere, intimately. She kisses me more fiercely and
grinds herself harder against my leg.


"That's enough!" Nick commands and nudges her away.


We look at each other full in the face, she's flushed and dreamy and
her hand is on my arse pulling me against her pussy.


"Tee, don't you think Rachael has a sexy face..."


I nod.


"Lips... so kissable..."


I nod, but I don't need any orders and pre-empt him. I want to feel
the softness of Rachael's lips on mine again.


After a while we're oblivious to Nick's presence. I'm dimly aware
he's sitting down on the sofa again but I can't tell you when he left
us. This has become our own little scene.


"This is not... too bad..." Rachael whispers breathlessly into my ear.


"Better than I thought," I whisper back.


Our hands are working too, exploring and stroking. Rachael plays
with the hem of my dress, lifts it a little and touchs my bare leg.


"Smooth skin..." she whispers.


"Nice hands..." I reply.


I slip my hand under her top behind her and run my hands up her
narrow back to the strap of her bra. She shivers and pulls my dress
up a little higher.


"You've nice hands too," she tells me.


Her fingers are on the backs of my thighs and travelling North. I
move my hands around to her tummy, it's smooth and flat. My little
fingers sense the closeness of her bra-covered boobs.


She straightens and her hands leave me. She hoists her top up and
over her head and tosses it to a chair. Her breasts are smaller than
mine and nestle in a lacy bra that squeezes and pushes them up a
little.


"I guess I'd better takes this off," I tell her, self-consciously,
and try to undo the hook and eye at the back of my dress.


"Let me," she offers and turns me around by the shoulder.


As Rachael undoes my dress, I look across at Nick. He's transfixed
and I notice his hand shifting on his leg. It's obvious that he's
been rubbing himself while watching.


I can't dwell on the thought because Rachael has undone my dress and
is busy smoothing it off my shoulders. She has to push it down over
my hips and takes the opportunity for a bit of caressing.


"You've got beautiful boobs," she says looking over my shoulder into
my cleavage, "I wish mine were that size... just right!"


She works the dress down over my bottom and I can feel her fingers
on my cheeks, her boobs are squashed into my back.


"Feeling horny yet?" she whispers.


"Hmm hmm, you?"


"I'm flooding baby," she grins.


I smile back.


"Want your bra off?" she asks.


"Sure!," I swallow.


My boobs loosen, then fall free. Rachael's hands are immediately on
them, caressing and squeezing. A little grunt from the direction of
Nick suggests he's enjoying the view.


I turn around and throw myself on Rachael's lips, fiercely kissing
and writhing against her body. My tits are mashing with hers, I grab
them and try to pull them from her bra.


"Wait... you have to undo..." she gasps and reaches behind for her
catch.


I have this overwhelming feeling, I want to bite, kiss and suck
every part of her. I don't KNOW myself right now, I feel SO out of
control.


Her breasts are now free and I'm sucking and squeezing her flesh. I
clamp my mouth on her nipple and flick it with my tongue.


"Oh my... Tee... I never... Oh God..." she babbles.


"Take your pants off... please!" I demand.


"Yes... sure... wait a minute... got to sit down... Oh baby..."


Rachael backs away towards a two-seater by the wall.


"Legs going..." she says desperately.


She's trying to undo her pants as she goes. By the time she sits
down she's has them open and lifts her bottom to push them down. I
follow close behind and help her pants the rest of the way. She hooks
her thumbs in the waistband of her panties but I stop her.


"This is for the woman to do!" I tell her and we both burst out
laughing.


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


I collapse next to her on the two-seater.


"He says that to you too!" says Rachael laughing and pointing at me.


"They ALL do," I tell her, laughing back, "they must get told that
by their fathers. 'son'," I imitate a male voice, "'you must take
down the lady's panties'."


"Yes!" yells Rachael, "'this is for the men to do'," copying my
'voice.'


"Oh for Christ's sake..." comes Nick's frustrated voice.


He's standing over us, watching our chests jiggling with the
laughter. Rachael has her arm draped over my shoulder, my hand is on
her leg. Together we smile up at him like a pair of giggling
schoolfriends.


"Oh poor baby... what's wrong?" Rachael asks with mock concern, "are
you feeling left out? Look Tee, he's all frustrated, bring it over
here and let us kiss it better."


"That sounds like a good idea," says Nick undoing his pants.


Rachael reaches across and feels my pussy.


"My, you're damp down there," she comments, "you're really getting
into this girl/girl thing aren't you?"


"You're pretty slippery yourself!" I comment, feeling the damp
crotch of her panties.


"Better slip them off..." she says, sliding her panties down.


She then takes my hand and places it on her pussy.


"You can give me a fiddle if you like," she tells me.


"Ok... So you're a natural blond? Um... you can do the same... to me
if you like," I tell her, putting my leg over hers.


We seal the bargain with a smooch.


"Not blond..." she whispers, "I've put colour on there too..."


"Really? Why? Um... wouldn't it... um... burn you? The chemicals..."


"No... not really... if you're careful... uh... oh baby... there!"


We're kissing again when I feel something brush my cheek.


"Kiss?" says Nick.


We break apart and there's Nick's cock inches from my face.
Momentarily, I feel resentment at the intrusion, but Rachael
volunteers to go first and captures him with her mouth. I kiss her
neck as Nick pushes his cock in and out of her mouth.


After a few strokes she gurgles and takes him out of her mouth,
jacking him in her fist instead.


"Sorry babe," she tells him, "can't concentrate... Tee you're...
just right... oh babe... I'm..."


She looks in my eyes, her fingers rapidly dancing on my clit. I'm
wriggling and squirming against her, feeling like I'm about to
explode. Her fingers know exactly what they're doing and drum a beat
right where it works the best.


"OOHH..." Rachael cries out and her fingers stop working on me.


Instead she grips me with her hand and her leg traps mine hard. Her
hand jerks,


"OOHH... OHHH..."


She cries again followed by a low moan. Her arse grinds against my
fingers.


"Oh baby... baby... I'm so... sorry... OOHHH... there's more...
OOOHHH... Jesus... no! Stop...OOOHHH... God..."


She grips my hand, holding it hard against her pulsating pussy.


"Oh Tee... sorry babe," she grins, "I couldn't finish you..."


"It's alright," I pant, "was it nice?"


"Yes babe... so good..."


I feel my legs being lifted. Another body slides up between my legs,
Nick. He puts my feet on his shoulders, the bulb of his hard cock is
already probing my entrance.


"Oh finish her Nick," Rachael says and puts her arm around my neck.


She grabs my boob and kisses my face as Nick begins hammering away
inside my ready pussy. At first it feels funny, different, this other
body. Not as soft as Rachael, it takes a little while to adjust to
the new sensation.


Nick's driving deep in this position. Rachael puts her finger on my
clit, increasing the stimulation. I look up at Nick, who has his eyes
closed. He's grunting and already beads of sweat appear on his naked
chest.


A mouth fastens on my nipple, it can only be Rachael's. She traps it
between her tongue and teeth, it's the final straw. I scream into
Rachael's shoulder, I hold her head on my tit. Nick growls and jerks
into me rapidly pushing my right over the edge.


I cling to Rachael for support, I want to hold her to me, enjoy her
soft body against mine. Nick's the instrument but it's Rachael I want
to hold as I ride the spasms of my orgasm.


We kiss for a long, long time, she's still holding my boob as if
she's forgotten her hand is there.


Later, Rachael tells Nick,


"I'm going to jump in that big bath of yours sweetheart," then to
me, "care to join me?"


"Sure," I reply.


"Can I join you?" Nick asks.


"If there's room," she replies.


I'm pretty sure there wouldn't be enough room for the three of us.
It's interesting that Rachael asked me first.


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


Nick tries to get in with the two of us but it's obvious we'd all
have to stand. He gives up after a while and takes a shower instead.


Rachael and me snuggle up without the disturbance of the air
blowing. It's just so peaceful and comforting.


We don't talk much, I guess we're both thinking about our experience
and what it means to us. It was a lot more pleasurable and intense
than I thought possible with a woman. Something else too.


Neither of us were concerned with performance, as one might expect
with a guy. It was somehow much less stressful and fun and we could
afford to clown around. That's because we had no expectations of each
other, I see that clearly now.


With Nick, it's like he has to prove himself every time. With
Rachael, we simply have nothing to prove.


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


Afterwards we all tumble into Nick's big bed. We oblige Nick, who
wants a babe on either side of him, but later on Rachael comes back
from the bathroom and slips in beside me. We eventually fall asleep
in each other's arms.


Katzmarek

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