Category Archives: FF

Before Sunrise

It was a half and hour before sunrise, and Amy was already up. The sky outside was slowly lightening, with the promise of a sunny day. Everything was quiet, few other people in the household were awake. Just the kitchens really.

Amy liked this part of the day, she had a few minutes which were completely hers, at a time when she still had energy to do something about it. She slid her hand between her legs, feeling herself already wet from anticipation of her next duty. A delicate touch, and she shivered just a bit. It didn’t take long anymore, and she didn’t want to come too much, Mistress might not like that.

But, since she’d been waking Mistress up, she’d been getting everything she needed that way. Even if it just made her want more. She strapped on a front-tying corset, which pushed her breasts up and covered nothing. A simple dress over that, and she was dressed according to Mistress’ desires.

It was already light enough that she didn’t need a candle to find her way to her Mistress’ room in the east tower. It was becoming second nature, anyway, to follow the stone hallways and up the uneven stone stairs. Windows were cut in the turret, letting in the predawn light. Amy lifted her skirt to keep it out of the way, climbing the forty-odd stairs to the top of the tower.

Arriving in her Mistress’ room, she walked silently to the bed. She removed the dress, letting it pool on the floor. Gentle nudging at her Mistress’ legs and she rolled over, legs wide. Amy knelt there, lowering her mouth to her Mistress’s pussy. She licked, and teased, arousing her Mistress, and forcing her to arise. Hands clutched at her head, her collar, pulling her more deeply into Mistress’ sopping cunt. Feet pressed against her back, and her Mistress shouted out.

Amy crawled to lie next to her, and her Mistress turned and smiled. Amy felt her Mistress’ fingers press against her pussy, and she came again and again, blocking out the sound of the cock’s crow greeting the new day.


The Sultan's Slave Rejected

This stands alone, but follows on from The Sultan’s Slave

The harem was dark when Sherri returned. The Sultan had demanded a story, and she had proffered one, but he had not returned the favor of his bed. The eunuch guards brought her back to the harem, but did not enter.

She found her way to the pillow bed that was her normal place of sleep, when the Sultan did not desire her company. She pulled off her silks, and lay down, and closed her eyes relaxing. Hands wrapped around her arms, and held her down. Other hands pulled her legs apart. There were people all around her.

She opened her eyes to absolute darkness. The windows were shuttered, the gas lamps out, there was nothing to see. “The Sultan didn’t want you tonight,” whispered someone in her ear.

Another member of the harem licked her nipple, bringing it to hardness. “He has someone else to warm his bed.”

A third voice, stroking her cunt. “Your sister.” Laughter, and soft caresses.

“No,” Sherri said. “She can’t protect herself.”

“Neither can you,” said the second voice, biting hard down on her nipple. Sherri cried out in pain.

Hands, fingers assailed her private areas, arousing them, delighting in her body’s moisture.

“You like it this way.”

“Does he hold you down, and ride you?”

“Does he stick his cock in your mouth and fuck your face?”

“Does he take you like a dog?”

After every question, the voice would lick and tease at her. She started to answer, and her mouth was covered as another of her sister-wives lowered her cunt to Sherri’s mouth. Someone licked her pussy.

“Don’t you know we’re all lonely?”

“You’ve been taking all his time with your stories.”

“Lick my lonely cunt, sister-wife.”

The woman between Sherri’s legs redoubled her efforts, and Sherri rode the wave of pleasure, rocking with orgasm.

“Tell him this — it will make a great story,” whispered the voice in her ear. “He may even want us again.”


Keeping Her In Suspense

“Do not come.”

The command had been simple, if hard to obey. Rachel had been bound in full rope bondage, the ropes wound around her body, encircling her waist and each of her breasts. More ropes had been tied around her breasts, turning them purple. Then she had been suspended from the ceiling. Vertiginously, Rachel had agreed to the command — her head swam too much to focus on orgasm.

Mistress Jane had then added to the mix. A vibrator, held in place by the Japanese bondage, set on a timer which frustrated her from orgasm, but always left her higher and higher. She tried to focus on the ground, spinning below her, but that made her queasy. She might not come, but Mistress wouldn’t be happy with a messy floor. Mistress decided to “help” her with that, by giving her a blindfold.

Then Rachel started feeling feather touches on her distended, super-sensitive nipples. As she spun, she came in contact with something — a feather duster or single feather, teasingly touching her nipples, playing with her. The vibrator kicked on inside her, revving her arousal ever higher.

“Do not come,” Mistress Jane said. “Or you will be sorely punished.”

Rachel knew the punishment would be bad, not enjoyable. Not like Mistress’ other “punishments.”

The feathers teased her nipples, again, and again as she spun. The vibrator clicked off and on again. She shifted in response, the knot of rope above her pussy brushing brusquely against her clit.

Sweat beaded on her brow, as she tried to focus on not orgasming. On anything but where she was, and what she was doing. Her back arched, she cried out, twisting. She would not come, she would obey Mistress’ orders.

Rachel heard her Mistress’ laughter as she fought the inevitable.

Son of God

Amy ran her hand over the carved marble surface of the Son of God, and shuddered. She loved Sundays. She remembered the first one.


It was the first Sunday after she had started “working” for Mistress. Roused from bed, she had protested. “But Mistress,” she had asked, confused. “I thought we weren’t Christian.” The first thing Mistress had done was to rip off her wooden cross and throw it in the parlor room’s roaring fireplace.


“We aren’t,” Mistress said. “But no one else knows that. So we go to church on Sunday. I know you are still… recovering from the change; when we are in a church, I need you to remember your new status. You have left your old life behind, and entered into a new one. So I have a present for you, to help you remember.”


Reaching into her secret cabinet, Mistress pulled out an ornate wooden box She lifted the lid, displaying a fine silk fabric, which she reverently moved aside.


Inside was an elaborately carved marble phallus, with intricate carvings all around it. “It is made to stimulate in the very best ways,” Mistress said.. It was also thick. While it was only slightly longer than her hand from finger tip to base, she wasn’t sure she could wrap her hand around it. She gasped as Mistress lifted it out the box.


Mistress smiled at her and said, “You will wear this for me in church, so you will know who truly commands you.”


“Yes’m,” she had said and bowed her head.


“Strip,” Mistress commanded, and while the lesson was still new, Amy had good reason to remember. Her clothing was quickly removed, and folded carefully away. Mistress then slipped the huge marble monstrosity inside her, filling her completely. A simple metal chastity belt strapped on the outside of it. Mistress locked it, and slipped the key between her breasts. Amy felt her cunt water around the cool stone.


They walked to church, and the thing slid around inside her: not much, just enough to make her aware, but the chastity belt kept it firmly inside. The stone balls rubbed against her clit when she stood upright, and “walked like a lady.” Mistress smiled at her as she strutted, tall, proud, and excited.


Then there was church. Despite what Mistress had said, Amy had never been very devout. But with the marble man inside her, she gave the very air of passion. As they knelt for prayer and the Eucharist, the phallus moved inside her bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. Finally as the communion wine passed her lips, she stood, and her body shook in passion.


The priest looked at her oddly, and asked her if she was all right. “Yes, Father,” she spoke. “I have never been so moved by the Son of God before.” Mistress’ nails dug into her when he noticed her, and then she began to shake as she spoke. Later, once they had left the cathedral, Mistress began to laugh heartily.


“Oh, my dear, Amy” she had said. “I do believe you have promise to maintain your position.” There, evidently, had been many before her. “Whether I keep you or not, you have earned a reward.”


“Can I keep it?” she had asked meekly.


“The phallus? For now, and every Sunday. In fact, I think you’ve christened it.” She paused and Amy felt her Mistress’ caress on her face. “But I had a better gift in mind.”


Stroking the marble phallus, Amy smiled in the memory of her Mistress’ gift, and slid the Son inside her.
It was Sunday, again.
This was one of my early, and favorite, images. The dildo here is in fact the same as the one referenced in Episode 03 of Warehouse 69, about which more will be forthcoming.

The Best Hour

The best hour of the day is when Mistress comes to bed. She spends the hour wrapping me in bondage: ropes and leathers or cuffs and chains, or some new more wicket invention. She binds me so tightly that the most I can do is rock back and forth in the night. Mistress is an expert, though: the bindings are tight, but rarely painful. Unless I’ve done something wrong.

On a better night, when I’ve been particularly good, she’ll take the special dildointo me — the one with the vibrator with a timer — and she’ll bind it inside of me. On those nights, I’ll wake up again and again, and come over and over. On the best nights, she’ll let me spend time, kissing and licking her first. Teasing her feet, licking her legs, and finally to her special place where I can suck and lick on her clit. Where she grabs my head and pushes it up against her while she comes. Sometimes I can’t breathe when she does it and that makes me come, too.

Then, when she is done, if I’ve done a good job, and she’s feeling benevolent, that’s when she slides the vibrator inside me, before she gets out the ropes and leathers or cuffs and chains. And when she does get them out, she binds me:  my breasts, my arms and my legs. She binds me so I can’t move, and she binds the dildo inside me, and starts it humming. Then she lays me down at the foot of her bed and I’ll lie there, my cunt spasming, my mind calm with the knowledge that Mistress loves me and takes care of me.

She’ll turn out the light, and curl into the sheets, and I’ll slowly drift off to sound, happy sleep.

4: Pirate Captain

Captain’s Private Journal
August 17, 2170

ID: Captain Amy Shurinko
Hair: Black
Eyes: Blue
Height: 183 cm
Mass: 63 kg
Age: 36
Birth Date: 2135.07.17

I’ve added the navigational logs to this record, but that’s for my own information later. I’m afraid things have been crazy these past few days, and we may need to look into another line of business. That and I think I may be smitten. Roxy is mad, even though she knows I’d never leave her or the ship. That, or she’s jealous of the time I’ve gotten with Helen. That’s fixable, at least.

Six days ago we were on Geneforge station, doing a bit of recon, and looking for solid work. I was at the Seven Sisters when the woman I call Helen — for reasons that will become obvious — walked in. It was day shift, and she was dressed like a little corp-girl up for a night out. She was out of place: dressed completely wrong, and way too beautiful for a dive like that.

For that matter, she was way too beautiful for the club outfit she was wearing. The red heels — too high for anywhere with more gravity than a station — were shiny, trashy fuck-me pumps. They were designer and expensive, and I suppose that made them okay for work. If you ask me, anything with a heel that long just says “lay me down and grab hold. My thoughts weren’t pure, that’s certain; I wanted to get her out of those clothes and pull her down to my crotch and make her lick me.

Judging by how quiet the bar got when she walked in I wasn’t the only one thinking such thoughts.

But I was the one she walked up to.

I just sat there as she slinked towards me. I sipped my drink, and tried to keep my eyes on her face. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I don’t like to look. I prefer the ladies, after all. My crew is all female for a reason — more than one.

She moved like a dancer, or someone who had studied martial arts for years. The low-G skirt and top drifted around — still covering everything, much to everyone’s dismay — enticing the eye and making my gaze wander. She was round and full and sexy, her hair cascaded down her back, unkempt and wavy. She had a just-fucked look about her, the kind models and vid-stars try to create, but with her it was just a natural thing. Her breasts bounced a little as she moved; I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Captain Shurinko?” she asked when she arrived at my table. I nodded, and took another sip of my beer. I gestured for her to sit down, and she slid into my booth. I glared around the bar, and most people went back to what they were doing. Someone kicked the music player, and the bar went back to loud and lively.

As the girl slid into my booth she artfully and “accidentally” flashed me her tits. I knew my night was looking up, after all my reputation is well known in places like the Seven Sisters. She didn’t have much on her: skirt, shoes, top. Maybe some panties, but I was betting not. She had a small bag, maybe 400cc’s that was bulging a bit, but that wasn’t odd, either.

The other thing that struck me was how young she looked. She couldn’t be more than eighteen, nineteen tops. She didn’t move like a teenager, but maybe they were growing them young these days. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she looked, either. She had come down to the docks, and to a place like the Seven Sisters. “I have a proposition for you,” she said, leaning close to me so that I could hear her. I turned on the sound squelchers and the noise from the bar went away — and no one would be able to hear what we had to say either.

“A proposition?” I said. There was probably a bit too much leer in it, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Yes.” Her voice was like smooth cream and chocolate. “I need off station.”

I knew where it was going, but some part of my hesitated. The part that wanted her too much. I was getting wet listening to her, and I knew what I wanted, but you don’t become a successful pirate captain without some caution. You can’t always listen to your gonads, you’ll get keelhauled that way. “So buy a ticket, kid. Ladies’ Luck doesn’t take passengers.”

“Tickets require things I don’t have,” she said. “Money. Proper identification. That sort of thing.”

“You need smuggled off the station, and don’t have money?” The rational part of me was waving red flags and jumping up and down. I acted calm, nursing my drink. The irrational part of me was slick and hard from nips to clit.

“I have other things to offer.” She jiggled then and the rational part of me fuzzed out and I was all lust and agony, wanting her. “Seven Sisters has rooms. I only need an hour.” The rooms were mainly for a shower and a real bed, in a room you don’t have to share. They rented by the hour, and that meant they were used for more than just a nap.

“An hour?” I said. My throat was parched. My hands gripped the strong clear plastic of my mug. “You think that’s enough for passage anywhere?”

“No,” she said. “But it’ll more than pay for the room.” She looked me in the eyes, and I matched her gaze.

I wanted her, that was true. But more than that, I didn’t just want sex. I wanted to possess her, even for a few minutes. She must have seen that, because she shifted in her seat. Her arrogance and certainty slid away; her expression became tentative. Her eyes were still powerful, though. She was strong deep inside.

“Yours for an hour,” she said. “As a trial for the passage.”

How could I lose? I nodded, and waved a waitress over. I told her what I wanted, thumbed the bill, and she slipped a room key out of her apron. She looked at us enviously, and smiled a knowing grin. I downed the rest of my beer, and I led Helen to our room.
~ o ~

The room was small: a full sized bed, with no more than a half meter of space on one side. There was a little space to stand at the foot to open the sliding door that hides the shower and bathroom facilities. There’s a light built into the headboard, and a harsh overhead that reflected off the too-white walls. I turned it off as I stepped in and sat on the bed to activate the headboard light.

She stepped in behind me, falling her knees next to the bed; the door swooshed shut behind her. She knelt between my spread legs and rubbed her head against my thighs. I pulled her low-G top off, getting my first good look at her breasts.

She was definitely young, her breasts were firm and her nipples were hard. I took her nipples in my hand, first caressing them, then pulling on them. She moaned, and I watched as her body responded, her nipples growing firm under her hands.

I pulled my own top off, discarding my bra as I went. I kicked off my shoes. “Take off my pants,” I ordered her, and she undid my fly, and pulled. I lifted up off the bed, “Panties, too.”

She obliged, and pulled my pants off, standing against the wall to give herself enough space to pull them down. When my pants were in a pool beside the bed, I grabbed her wild red hair, and pulled it. She pulled back, fighting for a moment, and I laughed and pulled harder. She fell forward, back to her knees, and pressed her body against me.

I pushed her down, and pressed her lips against my cunt.

I was wet, and I wanted her now. She moaned against my mound, vibrating her lips against it. I felt her tongue parting her lips, then mine, finding my secret place with ease. She must have known what I wanted. She didn’t fuck around, and got me off fast. I grabbed her head, and held her there while I came. I left her there as I recovered.

The irrational part of my mind that had pushed for this moment since she walked into the bar finally subsided enough that I could think again. The rational part of my mind started planning now, instead of thinking about how I had to ditch her, since she was obviously either jailbait or in some worse kind of trouble. I was planning what I would do to her for the few weeks I’d have her on the ship, and only that short if we didn’t leave Earth orbit.

In other words, after those few seconds I was sold. But I’m a careful buyer, and she might have been lucky. She was already licking again, since I hadn’t pushed her away. I pulled her in tighter with my hands, and wrapped my thighs around her ears as she licked me. I fucked her face until I got off again.

It was time to get a look at the goods.

I made her stand up. She wobbled a bit in the heels, her chest was flushed with arousal, and her breathing fast and shallow. I pulled at the velcro straps of her skirt, and it fell off of her. I was right about the panties.

She was a natural redhead, her pussy hair thick red curls. The lips of her cunt stuck out, folding around her opening. My tongue ached for a taste, but I told myself to wait. I parted her lips with my finger, her skin was soft and pliant, and her breath caught as I slid my finger against her. I fondled her breast with my free hand, and brought it down to my lips.

She bent against me, wrapping her arms around me for balance. “Don’t come until I say,” I told her.

She groaned, “Yes.”

I pressed more firmly with my finger, moving slowly back and forth. I teased her nipple with my tongue in time to my other movements, and listened to her breathing. As she grew closer and closer, I looked up at her. She was looking off to one side of the room, her mind trying to be elsewhere, her lower lib caught in her teeth. I smiled to myself and began to move a little faster. She gasped and pressed against my hand. “Not yet,” I said.

She whined. I continued.

Her fingers gripped my shoulders, pressing into them, I could feel her nails against my back. I lightly bit her nipple, and sucked her breast into my mouth as I continued to tongue the tips of her nipple. I wrapped my hand around her breast, frigging her for all I was worth.

“Ready?” I asked. She nodded enthusiastically. “Not yet,” I said again, and watched her face as she tried her best to wait. I squeezed her breast, hard enough to be painful. “Now!” I said. “Come for me now.”

And she did. Her thighs squeezed my hand as she came, and she wobbled against me. I pulled her back, and let her collapse on the bed. My right hand never left her cunt, or stopped pressing against her clit. She smiled at me, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” I said.

She laughed, and lay next to me. I pulled myself up next to her on the bed, and she curled up next to me. “Okay,” I said. “That paid for the room. Now, why should I take you with me?”

She got up on her knees, and cupped her breasts, and pouted in a way that was both cute and fake. “Isn’t owning me enough?” she teased.

Chuckling, “But what, exactly, am I getting?”

“This,” she said, parting my legs an sitting between them. “And more.”

She slid two fingers inside of me, then three. She fucked me slowly, teasing my g-spot, and moving in and out of my cunt. She slid a fourth one in and I sighed contentedly. She fucked me like that, and I came around her fingers — a little one, just a precursor for the big one I knew she was working toward. “Ready?” she asked. I was wet enough, I knew. I just nodded.

I felt her adjust, and I knew what she was doing. Sliding her thumb into a circle with her other fingers, sliding it into me. She pressed against me, pushing against my cunt filling me up as full as she could. Her other hand settled on my mound, her thumb parting the cleft above my hole, teasing my clit. She twisted her hand inside of me, pressing in, making a fist out of her hand.

I felt my orgasm coming from a long way off, like the low thrum of engines on a large space liner. It was a low bass vibrating at the bottom of my spine; building and building as she pressed into me, and twisted and turned and teased me. And then it was on me, and in me, and taking me over completely. I wasn’t a ship captain or a lesbian pirate or anything but a solar flare of orgasm.

It’s that moment when you touch the Goddess, when you are everything and just yourself, when your whole body is focused on just one single divine thing. It didn’t happen that often, and almost never with someone you’d just met in a bar. I knew then, as I was coming down from it, that I’d made up my mind. She pulled out of me slowly, and lay down next to me.

I didn’t talk; we just lay there, skin on skin, blissful and happy. I wasn’t yet remembering that you pay for everything you get: there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. But I wouldn’t have cared, and despite what has happened, I still think it was worth it.

“Wow, that was something,” I finally said. “You are a wonderful lover. You know you’re coming with me.”

“I know, ” she said. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

I laughed, “No that’s true.” I adjusted her age to account for her obvious experience; she had to be older than 18.

“Actually,” she said, biting her lip. Then it dawned on me: no paperwork, no money. The clues were all there. It didn’t change anything about how I felt. I was taking her with me.

I kissed her soundly, pulling her to me, forcing my tongue between her lips. She moaned curled against me; I held her tightly in my arms. I would possess her, for as long as I could.

Clone or no.

2: The Temp

To: RJ Sang <rjsang@…>

From: txjacobs@…>

Re: Disposition of Sue Ellen McDougal

Date: August 12, 2170

[Attachment Begins] –Deposition of Sue Ellen McDougal, taken under Loquatia.

Name: Sue Ellen McDougal
ID:: 392-343-23432
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Brown
Height: 157cm
Mass: 50kg
Age: 21
Birth Date: 2149.02.27

Subject responds well to Loquatia, if perhaps overly descriptive.  This is normal and points to a complete and truthful deposition.  Transcript follows (McDougal voice entries only.)

My night? Well, mostly it started normal night, y’know. I had a date with Jack. I’d had a good paycheck the week before, so I’d gone down to Sak’s and bought some designer low-G stuff. A nice skirt that sort of wafted around but still covered everything. Same for the top. I bought a nice bra and panties set, too. They’re all gone now, but, hey, they were just clothes.

Oh! And my shoes! I found this awesome pair of iVersace low-g ultra-high heels. Shiny red, patent Corinthian neo-leather. And on sale, too!

I guess it’s okay. I mean, you didn’t see her. She was freaking awesome.

Yeah, yeah, sorry. I’ll get back on track. It’s just that her hair was so luminous. Her eyes, I just lost myself in them.

Anyway, I was working in records, checking over the datacubes, and organizing them. Every week as new clone models role off, I close up the books and put away the records. Plus we’ve got exabytes of cubes back in there. Hard to believe it fits in a walk-in closet. I was scanning cube titles, and organizing them when someone opened the door. And there she was, this naked lady.

I mean, she was the hottest person I’ve ever seen. I’d never even done anything with girls. Man was I stupid. Anyway, she was standing there, the light was behind her mostly, and it’s like she was glowing. But maybe that was just natural.

I told you about her hair right? Bright golden red, and her eyes pierced right to my soul. Oh, and her breasts? Wow. They made my mouth water. Then she said something. It was like an aphrodisiac, what the fuck did she say? I’ll remember in a moment, but I know it was the most sensual, wonderful thing I’d ever heard.

All I could think of was that I just wanted to lean up to her and kiss her, or maybe lick her breasts. Or something. I don’t think I was that clear on what I wanted. I just know when I heard her, my nipples got real hard, and my pussy got all wet when I heard it. I remember what she said now: “Is this the records room?” Yeah. that was it. So. Fucking. Hot.

Sorry, when I think about her, I just can’t think straight. Probably because she’s a girl. He he, that’s funny right? I’m a girl, and she’s a girl.

Sigh. You really have no sense of humor do you?

Okay, like I said, she asked me if it was the records room and I just nodded, and fell down to my knees. She didn’t ask me to, I just, well I just wanted to. My eyes were on her breasts the whole way down. The next thing I know, her hands are behind my head, tilting it up to her face.

She smiled at me, she was so happy, so beautiful. She leaned over me, and pulled my lips to her breasts. Her nipples were hard and crinkly with arousal. I’d be aroused too, if I had that kind of a body. And walked around naked someplace.

I, mean, I knew it was odd to see a naked woman at work. I knew I should report it, but if you’d seen her, you’d know. She was supposed to be naked, so everyone could see her beauty. Like a work of erotic art, there just for me, little Sue Ellen McDougal the file clerk.

Like I was saying, I was sucking on the most luscious breast ever, her hands were in my hair, pulling me close. She was moaning, and I moaned back knowing I was doing a good job, turning her on as much as I was turned on by her. Her hands went all over my body, and she pulled off my shirt. I remember because I had to stop kissing her breasts so she could pull it over my head.

I remember whining, frustrated to be separated from her, but it was okay. She pulled my face in between her breasts, and I took them in my hands, and pushed them against my face, as I kissed and licked them. She pushed on my head a bit, and I kissed down her body. I’d never gone down on a woman before. She was musky and wet, and smelled like a hot fuck. Which is how she looked, really. And what she was. Her lips were awesome; I can still taste her on my tongue. No man ever tasted so good, let me tell you that.

I’m not sure exactly what happened next. I was on the floor, on my side, and she’d taken everything off of me, except for my shoes. She had the ultra-high heels in her hands, spreading my legs. I felt her tongue on my clit, and I started coming. I even stopped licking her, I was so distracted, I just sort of moaned into her pussy, and she was shuddering around my head, grabbing me with her thighs.

She rolled me over on my back then, still straddling me, still licking me. She put a finger inside me, and then another. Then she started fucking me with her fingers. She ground into my face in time with her thrusts, and I just tried to keep up. She came again, I remember that. Then I was coming, screaming out loud.

She pressed her cunt into my mouth then, and I just screamed into it. I guess that’s why nobody heard me. Not that I cared. Her cunt was the most wonderful one in the world. Not that I have a lot to compare it to, not yet, anyway.

I think I passed out then. At least, when I woke up, I was still naked, just the shoes, and there were datacubes all over the floor. I guess we knocked them off the racks as we fucked. She was still there, only she was wearing my clothes, everything but my panties, which she had in her hand. Part of me thought she was so sexy in my clothes, and part was, like, furious that she’d dare cover herself. The part that thought she was sexy won out and I told her.

She looked a bit surprised and smiled down at me where I lay on the floor. “Well they are sexy clothes,” she said. I just shivered to hear her voice. It drove me almost as crazy as the first thing she said to me. Maybe, despite my orgasms, I wasn’t too fucked out to care. “I love your shoes,” she added.

“You can have them, too,” I told her. “On one condition.”

She arched her eyebrow at me, and grinned. “And what is that?”

“Let me lick you again.”

She sat on my face then, her cunt right on my lips, my low-G skirt fluttering around my face. She didn’t just let me lick her. She fucked my tongue, and rode me. I licked her for all I was worth, and the next thing I know she’s moaning and carrying on. I mean, she’d come before, but it was more like her whole body shuddered, and her pussy clenched. This time I could tell she was finally losing it.

She was biting her knuckles — trying to be quiet — as she came. Her whole body went rigid, and I just kept licking and licking for all I was worth. And as she came, soaking my lips in her juices, I started coming too. Not loud, but strong. And not just in part of my body, but all over. It was like I exploded and imploded at the same time.  It fucking rocked.

That’s the last thing I remember before they found me. I didn’t wake up until the day shift people found me. And then the only proof I had was that I could still taste her on my lips. Datacubes were strewn all over the place, and my clothes were gone; I’ll probably be fired for indecent behavior, but if you’d seen her you’d have done it too. Hell, I got off cheap — just one nice outfit.

She could have my whole wardrobe if she’d came back for just one night. But I can guess from you guys that she’s gone for good.

Guess I’ll have to find a girlfriend then. Someone into shoes and sex.

That’s all I got to say.

[Attachment Ends]

Subject was wistful after treatment, and fairly emotional. This is consistent with side effects of Loquatia, as well as her experience. McDougal’s descriptions are consistent with Girl #16180’s data, and the incident earlier in the night. Records is still determining if any datacubes are missing, it will easily take a week before they can get through the entire catalogue, by which time Girl #16180 will probably be off-station.

Our recommendation for Sue Ellen McDougal’s continued employment follows.  Normal company policy is termination under the indecency clause, however McDougal represents a unique case of someone not involved with (or aware of) #16180’s origins having encountered her.  She should be kept under observation to see if there are any adverse or atypical side effects that might allow us to identify others who have fallen under #16180’s sphere of influence.  For this reason, we suggest that she retain her position (perhaps in a different department) and that she be offered permanent employment so that we can ensure her continued availability.

Thom Jacobs, Chief of Security

Secret Infidelity

Rachel wore a black latex bodysuit with cutouts for her breasts and crotch. Her feet were locked into six inch stilettos and a spreader bar which kept them a yard apart. Chains bound her ankles and arms to a St. Andrew’s Cross. She was bound on the stage at The Chained Triangle, a leather dyke bar. She looked out on a sea of faces, all there to watch Mistress Jane work.

Jane stood behind her, and leaned forward, reached around and gripped her right breast. “I know you fucked him,” she whispered in Rachel’s ear. She knew. Rachel felt her stomach churn; she pulled on the chains to steady herself. She scanned the women in the crowd – her community. “Lesbians don’t fuck men, do they Rachel?” Jane whispered to her.

“N-no.” She felt her nipples harden.

Jane continued to caress her breasts, tweaking her nipples. “Look at them, Rachel. They know you and me, the know us. We’re part of their family. Think how betrayed they will be if they found out.” Her hands slid from Rachel’s breast to her crotch. “Want me to tell them?”

“No!” Rachel cried out.

“What will you do for me to keep them from knowing you’re bisexual. To keep them from knowing how you cheated on me, and with a man?”

Rachel looked out at them. Now, they weren’t just a crowd, she could pick out her friends: Alysa, Janet, Mo. Mo, who had been raped and hated all men, and women who deluded themselves by liking them. What would they think of her? Of her secret? “Anything,” Rachel whispered. “I’d do anything to keep them from knowing.”

“I’m going to cane your breasts,” Jane said. Jane knew how she felt about caning. No permanent marks, not on her breasts, ever. Jane had whipped her with a crop once on her breasts and that was much too much. She shook her head back and forth.

“You said ‘Anything’, Rachel, so that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to strike them over and over until your pretty, perky breasts are covered with red welts.”

“But our agreement…”

“The one you broke, when you slept with Richard? That agreement?” Jane tweaked her breasts, hard as she spoke. “I could tell them, could dump you, leave you alone. Maybe I should.”

“No,” Rachel said.

“That’s what I thought,” Mistress Jane said and picked up the cane.

W69S01E01: The Jade Choker

Patrick and Celine were sitting the Pentagon City Mall when the odd man walked into the food court. “So, I’m scheduling a wake for that relationship,” Celine said to him. “Drinks, regrets, everything. Friday night.”

“I’m on duty Friday night,” he said. “How about Saturday.”

“Okay, but I might start before then. Messy breakups are messy.”

“That was doomed to failure,” Patrick said. “You should have known.”

“I always know,” she said. “Nothing lasts.”

“Do you recognize that guy?” Patrick asked. “Looks like he’s headed our way.”

Celine took a moment to check out the man. Overall he was neat, clean shaven and of apparent Middle Eastern descent. He wore a tan trench coat over a well-fitting charcoal suit and dark tie. He had the tell-tale wire coming out of his ear that said he worked for some Agency or another. Celine didn’t see an obvious badge, although the outfit itself spoke volumes.

Celine noticed he was also wearing the oddest glasses, kind of squarish with a green tint which were totally wrong for his face. She’d seen some like them before, but couldn’t place them at the moment. He had one hand on them as if he was peering through the glasses, instead of them being something he normally wore. “Doesn’t look familiar to me,” she said to Patrick.

That’s when the man turned to her. “Miss,” he said. “Might I inquire if you are lesbian, bisexual, pansexual or otherwise interested in people of your apparent gender?”

Patrick snorted at the question and Celine glared at him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “What did you ask me?”

“I guess what I’m asking is, are you capable at cunnilingus? It’s a matter of national security.”

“What?” Patrick was cackling now, but it didn’t seem to faze the man with the glasses.

“I’m not asking for myself,” he said.

“Of course not,” Celine replied. “You seem ill-equipped for that.”

“It’s just that the glasses aren’t working on you at all but no one here even has a glimmer of gay.”

“I take offense at that,” Patrick said.

“Sorry,” the man said. “I misspoke. I meant that no other women here have a glimmer of gay. Not that being a lesbian would confer some magical capability at oral sex with women, but it seemed like a reasonable decision procedure given the short notice.”

“Well to hear her tell it she’s an expert at all sorts of sexual activities.”


The man took the odd glasses and adjusted them with his thumb and forefinger. His mouth quirked, he shook his head and took the glasses off. Behind them his eyes were a very deep brown, with little golden flecks..

“It’s true, and you know it, so you might as well own it,” Patrick said.

“We don’t even know who this person is,” she said. “He only says this is a matter of ‘National Security.'”

“Indeed,” the man said. He folded the glasses and tucked them into a case in his coat pocket, and pulled a small billfold from behind the glasses case. “I’m Agent Fareed Alexander, with the Department of Homeland Security.” He brandished his badge; Celine took it, looked it over and handed it back.

“Okay,” she said. “What sort of national emergency requires the use of my purported extensive oral skills? Do you have some sort of uncontrollably horny Diplomatic Attache-slash-lesbian thrashing about on a bed in the Ritz Carlton?”

Patrick laughed, but the man looked askance. “Well” he said. “She’s not a Diplomatic Attache.”

“This I have to see.” Celine got up and took out her phone. “Just let me text my boss.”

“You going to be okay?” Patrick asked.

She just stuck her tongue out at him. “With this tongue I’ll be better than okay.” Turning to the agent, she said. “Lead on Agent Alexander.”


The Pentagon City Mall was connected to the Ritz Carlton, so the walk wasn’t too difficult. “It’s not many people who would do this,” Fareed said to her. “I appreciate your help.”

They strode together through the lobby, and Fareed called the elevator. As they got on she told him, “Well, I’m an agent too. It’s our job. Plus if you aren’t for real, my boss is going to text me any moment now, since I sent him your badge number.”

“You have a photographic memory?” Fareed asked.

“More like French Impressionist,” she said. “Still it’s pretty good.” He just arched his brow and turned to the door. “Are you going to tell me what this big emergency is?”

“Need to know,” he said. “You don’t need to know.”

“What about the name of the woman?”

“Need to know.”

“I kind of think I do.” He just shrugged. “Of course,” she said. Agents.

The elevator stopped on the 8th floor, and he stepped off. He pulled out a key card and opened a door onto a large suite. Inside the outer room were a couple of other non-descript agents. From the bedroom, Celine heard a woman shout out a despondent “Fuck!”

Celine walked to the door and looked in. “Maggie?” she said.

“You know this woman?”

“She’s a programmer,” Celine said. “We’ve worked together. What the fuck is going on?”

Fareed paused for a moment and sighed. “You probably know then, what she was working on?”

Celine nodded. “Site security for the Fed. Some kind of complicated encryption.”

“Well, she’s one of two people who know the encryption codes,” Fareed said. “She went missing three days ago, and we just found her. Pretty much like this.”

Celie stepped into the room, and saw Maggie roll around on the bed. The room reeked with the other woman’s arousal. She was naked, except for a jade choker. Her long red hair was plastered to her face; her hands were on her pussy working it hard. A look of intense frustration was on her face, and her nipples were like sharp points on big round luscious mounds.

Celine shook her head to clear it “Naked, hot and sweaty? or what?” She’d never realized Maggie was so beautiful, or that she was a lesbian. Well, these things were good to know.

“Yes,” Fareed said, stepping in the room behind her. “Naked except for that necklace which won’t come off. She’s unable to focus or orgasm, and we’ve been unable to find a means to aid her. Nor has she been willing to allow us.” He coughed and looked away from the scene.

“Is it drugs?” Celine asked. She walked closer to the bed. The sheets and cover for the bed were in a pile next to it. Maggie still had not registered their presence.

“We’re not sure. We believe it’s a form of torture. They’ll allow her orgasm if she tells them the secret. It’s better than pain, and leaves the victim unscarred, as it were. For now, we hope that an orgasm will break whatever has its hold on her.”

Celine nodded and started undoing her blouse. “Well, I’ve got this,” she said. “You can leave
. Shut the door behind you.”

Fareed nodded and buckled up his trench coat. She turned to Maggie and heard the door close behind her. She undid the rest of her blouse and pulled it and her jacket off at the same time, leaving her in a purple lace bra. She undid that, and walked closer to the bed, dropping it as she went. “Maggie,” she said.

“Celine,” Maggie gasped. “What?”

Celine shimmied out of her skirt. “I’m from the government, and I’m here to help you.” Maggie groaned. Celine kicked off her shoes, that left her in her panties and nothing else. They were also purple and lacy — life was too short for boring underwear. She slid into the bed next to Maggie, and the other woman wrapped her hands and legs around her.

“I’m so horny,” Maggie said. “Can’t think straight.”

“That’s good,” Celine said, “because you aren’t.” Then she kissed the other woman, tasting her lips and tongue. Maggie sighed and moaned against her. Her tongue darted out insistently, and her hands ran up and down Celine’s body. She found her underwear and started working it off.

Celine pulled back. “No, hon, today those stay on. Let me take care of you.” Maggie whined a bit, but then Celine kissed her again, touching and tasting the redhead’s soft lips. She then kissed her on the chin, and started sliding down the bed.

She glanced at the jade necklace. It was a beautiful piece, jade inlaid in silver with chinese symbols etched into the metal. Something about the piece seemed inimical, and yet fascinating. She closed her eyes and forced herself to look away and avoided touching the thing.

Celine moved down to Maggie’s breasts, and kissed between them. She breathed in the other woman’s scent: salty from sweat and musky from arousal. Celine moved over her left breast and sucked in the nipple. Maggie’s hands ran down her back, her nails scratching insistently at her back.

Celine slid her hand between Maggie’s legs which opened wide to let her in. Her pussy wasn’t just wet it was sopping. When she ran her fingers over the other woman’s lips, Maggie let out a long hiss that might have been the word “Yes.” Celine smiled at that, and slid further down the redhead’s body until her mouth was over the soft red curls of her mound.

Celine nipped at Maggie’s mound and the woman thrashed under her. Maggie’s hands and fingers entangled in Celie’s head, pushing her down. Celine was ready for that now and went willingly. The first two fingers of her right hand were brushing against Maggie’s lips, but now she slid them inside and felt for the sensitive ridges inside her pussy. With her tongue she slipped open the folds of Maggie’s pussy and found her clit.

Maggie cried out then. “Oh my God, I’m so close, so close!” Celine teased her, and Maggie pressed her crotch against her face. Celine worked the redhead’s pussy, licking in time to finger motions, teasing all the sensitive flesh of the other woman with all the skill she knew. Maggie bucked and rode and grabbed her; she cried out and thrashed and still she did not come.

This wasn’t just a game, Celine realized. This woman really couldn’t come. She could get aroused, get really close, but couldn’t get over the edge. She had to up her game and get her off. She clamped her lips around Maggie’s clit, and started sucking. With her right hand, she extended a third finger, and slid it into the other woman’s pussy.

Maggie wrapped her legs around her head, and cried out as she pulled Celine tighter and closer. Celine slid another finger inside her and began moving her hand back and forth as much as the tight space would allow. “Come for me,” she thought. “Come for me, Maggie.” She nipped at her clit and sucked it as hard as she could.

Maggie pulled her in so tight she couldn’t breath, and then something broke between them. Maggie screamed a piercing cry and arched her back. Then the cry became too much and she was just quiet. Her body shook and quivered. Celine thought she heard a metal sound; Maggie cried out again and fell so;emt.

Celine pulled herself away, now that she finally could, and looked at her handiwork. Maggie lay there, her hair even more damp and tousled than it had been, but her body relaxed and her breathing easy.

Fareed stepped up to the sleeping woman — and with purple latex gloves, picked up the necklace. “You might want to look away,” he said. He dropped the necklace into an anti-static bag, and it let out an incredibly bright light, accompanied by a zapping sound..

Celine quickly looked away and noticed that the door was still shut. “What was that?” she asked. “And you watched us the whole time?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I had to be here to get the choker.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

“Need to know,” he said. “Your country thanks you for your service. You might want to get dressed.”

Celine dressed and cleaned herself up. It would have been nice to know they had latex gloves. Not that she’d asked. By the time she cleaned up, Fareed was gone. Maggie was still sleeping, so Celine covered her up before leaving the bedroom.

The two other agents were still in the outer room. “We’ll watch over her,” one of them said. “We’ve been detailed to protect her until the codes are changed.”

“Thanks,” she said. “She’s a friend.”

“Of course,” he said. “That other agent left you his card, and said to call him if you experience anything odd, like the smell of fudge when there’s no fudge, your gallbladder feels numb, or if you experience exceptional horniness while looking up. .” The agent blushed and shrugged as he held out the card.

She took the card, it was black with silver lettering. “Fareed Alexander, Department of Homeland Security: Warehouse 69, (202) 555 – 6901”

Sub Let

Kiko stopped outside of the brownstone. It was convenient enough, just a quick walk from the subway line her new job was on. So far she’d been crashing on a friend’s couch since moving to the city, and when she heard about Alan’s year abroad she knew that’d be just the thing.

“Look,” Alan said over lunch the day before, his eyes shifting away and down. “I don’t really think you’re going to want to take over my sublet.”

“Why not?” Kiko asked. “Your roommates seem cool enough, and they like me.”

“Oh, they’d like you,” Alan said. “Particularly Sally.”

“And didn’t you say it was cheap?” Cheaper than any other apartment she’d found.

“Nothing is free,” Alan said.  When she’d pressed the issue he’d just told her to come by today when he’d show her the place and ‘go over the costs.’

Kiko pressed on the call button. “I’m here!” she said.  

The door buzzed and she heard one of the twins say “Come on up”  She climbed the two flights of stairs, and found apartment 312.  She’d been here before, but never on a Friday.  She knocked on the door, and Alan opened it.

He was wearing an apron that read “Kiss the Cook” with a bit arrow pointing down at his crotch.  “Come on in,” he said. “I’m just making dinner.”  He turned and she saw that Alan wasn’t wearing anything but the apron.

She stepped into the room, where the twins were setting up a poker table, and Sally was sitting back in a chair, supervising.  Sally was wearing a pink plaid skirt that came down to her thigh, which showed off her brown legs, and a tight shirt that showed off her breasts. “Konbanwa,” Kiko said to her.

Sally laughed. “My mom wishes I knew what the fuck you just said.  No matter how much Japanese she spoke around the house, I never got it.”

“Well, good evening, then,” Kiko said.

“Good evening to you, too. Alan says you’re thinking of taking over the sublet?”

“Oh is that what this is about?” one of the twins said. Kiko thought it was Robert, but it might have been Greg.  She was still learning to tell them apart.

The other twin looked up at her and looked her up and down. “Oh, my,” he said. “That’s excellent news.”  His voice was low and sultry and Kiko wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Kiko turned to Sally. “Actually he thought I wouldn’t want the place, but honestly, I need a cheap place to live. I’m living on Mark and Mary’s couch as it is.”

“Come, sit down next to me,” Sally said.  Kiko slipped into the chair, and then Alan was there with a diet cola for her.  He was still mostly naked, and Kiko thought she could see his cock pressing against the apron.  Greg and Robert set out a deck of cards and settled into the seats opposite the two women. “Well, we can certainly talk about the price for the place,” Sally said. “Alan needed a bit of discount, so we let him pay with his body one night a week.”  She leaned forward and shuffled a deck of cards.

“Unfortunately, there are three of us with Robert, Sally and I,” Greg said. “So we play some cards to decide who gets his ass each night.”

“You’re welcome to join in the game tonight,” Robert said. “So you can see what we have to offer.”

Alan walked over, and refreshed everyone’s drinks while Sally shuffled.  He turned to Sally and put his hands behind his back, and looked down at the floor. “Dinner is in the oven Ma’am.  It needs to come out in about an hour, but will be ready to serve then.”

“Very good,” Sally said. “We’ll deal with it then, I think you’ll be busy.”

Robert and Greg laughed. “Time to ante up” they said together, pulling off their shirts, and dropping them in the center of the table.

“Personally, I panty up,” Sally said, and reached under her skirt for her panties.  “You, too,” she said, dropping a purple thong onto the center of the table.

Kiko blushed, and pulled her own white panties off, and put them on the pile. She eyed them nervously, and wondered what was going on. She was also kind of turned on by it.  She’d never played strip poker, or really been naked around more than one person.  And she’d always kind of wanted to see Alan naked.  Since she’d gotten to NYC, Alan had been nice and unattached, yet aloof. Kiko could see why now.

Sally smiled at her as she dealt.  “I really hope we get you naked, Kiko,” she said. “I’ve wanted to see you since Alan first brought you by.”  Alan just stood behind Sally’s left shoulder as she dealt out the cards.  The boys passed, but she and Sally both put their shoes on the table.  “I’ve got a pair,” Sally said.

“I’ve got three of a kind,” Kiko said.

“First hand to the newbie,” Sally said. “Take the clothes, but don’t bother putting those panties back on.”  Alan untied the apron and pulled it off.  Kiko watched his cock bob as it came into view, and she licked her lips.  Then Alan crawled under the table, and up to her legs.

Kiko’s eyes got big when she understood what he’s offering.  “She just figured it out,” Robert said.

“Let him,” Greg said. “It’s what he’s here for.”

Sally was more forward, she put her hand on Kiko’s knee, and pulled her legs apart.  Alan went between them, and then she felt his tongue teasing her pussy lips.  “Feels good, eh?” Sally said. Kiko just nodded. “The question is, would you rather be where you are now, or where Alan is, but licking my pussy? Or their cocks.”

She looked around the table as Robert gathered up the cards and began dealing.  Alan’s lips parted her folds, and slid inside to touch her clit.  He was good, but then he’d lived here how long? Two years?  And he’d sucked all this cock and pussy? Her nipples hardened.

She lost the next hand badly to Robert. She was down to her bra and skirt.  She heard Alan unzip Robert’s pants, and a wild look on Robert’s face as Alan slid his mouth over the other man’s cock. Kiko couldn’t help herself and looked under the table at Alan as he sucked Robert’s cock.

“Such a nice ass, eh?” Sally said to her. “I can’t wait to fuck it.”

Kiko looked at her. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Sally said. “I’m the fuck-er not the fuck-ee. I’ve got a great strap-on; you can borrow it if you want. Unless..”

Kiko swallowed. Unless she wanted to be the fuckee, after all. She looked again at Alan as he sucked Robert’s cock.  She could almost takes his cock inside her mouth, filling her up.  She wondered if Greg’s was exactly the same or not, and shook her head. She had to get her mind back in the game, or she was going to be completely naked soon.

Greg took the cards and shuffled them, “Ante up,” folks. He tossed his shorts on the pile.

“Kind of boring panties,” Robert said, putting Kiko’s on the ante pile.

“Guess I finally lose my shirt,” Sally pulled hers off, revealing a bright red lacy bra underneath. “So, what’s it going to be Kiko? Skirt or bra?”

Kiko blushed and reached behind her back to undo her bra, letting it fall forward, she tossed it onto the pile and cross her arms over her chest.  Sal
ly reached out to her and shook her head. “That’s no good, hon.”

“I call a penalty,” Greg said.

“She only has of piece of clothing left, Greg,” Sally said.

“I’ll withdraw it so long as I can see her boobs.  And touch them for this hand,” he said.

“What, what are you talking about?” Kiko asked.

“Oh, come on,” Sally said. “You can’t hide your skin in strip poker. Everybody knows that.  You’re doing it now, and Greg’s calling you on it.  So, you can forfeit your last piece of clothing — and lose if you don’t win this hand.  Or you can drop your arms and let Greg and I touch your boobs while we play.”

Kiko felt like a deer caught in headlights.  She looked to Robert, who had one hand under the table. “You folks take your time,” he said. “I’m getting my cock sucked real good right now. But I wouldn’t mind looking at some nice boobs while we do it.  And, from the looks of things, Kiko, yours are nice.”

Kiko blushed, and dropped her arms  Sally took her right hand and cupped her breast, teasing her nippled.  Greg dealt the cards quickly, and  put his left hand on her other breast. Robert went kind of glassy-eyed, and she heard Alan make gurgling noises under the table. Kiko wondered what Robert was doing to him.

She picked up her cards — four clubs and one diamond, nothing worth anything.  She could discard one and hope for the best, so she did. If she didn’t get a club, she’s fold, and maybe the next hand would be better, although she’d have to go “all in”.

She took one card, and hesitantly looked at it: the two of clubs. She let out a sigh, and then realized she should probably bluff, but there was no way she could focus.  Her nipples were hard, and her pussy was wet, and she could hear Alan slurping away at Robert’s cock. And, she had to admit, she wished she was doing the slurping. She’d never felt that way before; some of her boyfriends — admittedly the ones with whom the sex was hottest — were pretty forceful in bed, but never anything like this. Never anything so slutty.

“Fuck it,” said Sally next to her. “I’m going all in.”

“Already?” Greg asked. “I haven’t even had a turn with Alan.” His hand played a bit with Kiko’s breast as he talked. He pulled on her nipple a bit and she had to bite her lip.

“Kiko’s got me all hot and bothered, ” Sally said. “I want to fuck and I want to fuck now. So fuck this game.”  She pulled the rest of her clothes off, and dumped them in the middle.

Robert set his cards down and put his hands beneath the table.  More noise could be heard from Alan as Robert looked Sally up and down.  “I’m all in, too” he said. “Fuuuuck.”  He let out a sigh and stood up.  His cock was limp and wet, but he got out of his clothes and set them on the table, too.  Greg shook his head and began undressing too.

When he was naked he turned to Kiko.  “You joining this suicide mission?”  

“I don’t think I have a choice,” she said, and slipped out of her skirt.  She felt all the other’s eyes on her as they saw her completely naked now.  She blushed, and sat back down.

“Well,” Sally said, “I’ve got a fucking straight. Read ’em and weep.”

“Beat’s me,” Robert said. “I’ve just got three threes.”

“Well you already got off,” Greg said, “So what do you care?”  Robert just smiled.

“Well,” said Kiko, “but check me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t a flush beat a straight?”

Robert laughed.  “She’s got you there, Sally.”

“As much as I hate to mention it,” Greg said, “But my brother is correct, a straight beats a flush.  However, it doesn’t beat a full house. So sorry ladies, but Alan’s ass and last night here is mine.”

Greg stood up and tossed all the clothes toward his room. Robert gathered up the cards and set them aside. Sally stepped back, and Alan crawled out from under the table, “That was fast,” he said.

He looked over at Kiko and looked her up and down.  He looked up at her and blushed before standing next to her.  “So, do you think I’m a terrible person now?”

“No,” Kiko said. “This…this turns you on, right?”

Alan gave her a short not.  “I think me too,” she whispered.  He gave her a small smile before Greg came over.

“You know the drill,” Greg said.

“Yes, Sir,” Alan said. He bent over the table, and Greg began tying him to it.  Kiko watched as he worked, lashing Alan’s legs to one end of the table. Alan’s arms were splayed out and a rope passed under the table so he couldn’t move them.  His erection, Kiko couldn’t help but noticing, was pressed under the table but hard against the wood.

“Come sit,” Sally said, patting the couch between where she and Robert sat. “We can’t fuck him, but we can enjoy the show.”

Kiko backed toward the couch, never taking her eye off Greg and Alan.  Greg dripped  oil onto Alan’s ass, then rolled a condom on and lubed up his cock.  She plopped down on the couch between the other two roommates.

Greg slipped between Alan’s legs. It felt so unreal and the moment stretched out before her. She was naked, sitting between two other naked people while a third was about to fuck the ass of her best friend. It was a moment of potential, and then she felt Sally and Robert’s hands move on her, their fingers moving so slowly it seemed to go on forever.  

Her legs fell open and then time seemed to move again.  Robert’s hand was on her clit, and Greg thrust deep into Alan’s ass.  Both Kiko and Alan let out moans at the same time and Alan turned his head to look at her, a smile beaming on his face.

Sally leaned into her, moving her hand to her tits as Robert slipped his fingers inside her.  “It could be like this every day,” Sally whispered.

“Oh, God,” Kiko said.  Robert found her clit and she lost her ability to speak for a moment.

“Say you’ll take the sublet,” Sally said.

Kiko nodded and came.