“Tell me a fantasy,” I said.

“Like what?” she asked.

“Something sexy,” I said. “What’s your favorite fantasy when you’re
alone in bed at night, masturbating?”

Cathie shook her head, causing her black, straight, shoulder length
pageboy hair to swing from side to side. I couldn’t see her large,
deep brown eyes but I knew they showed alarm.

“Goss, I can’t,” she whispered.

I looked down at the bulge of my cock showing through my jeans, half
hidden in the crack separating her round, fleshy buttocks. It twitched.
I moved my hips a bit, causing my cock to slide up and down her crack.
At the same time I allowed the fingers of my right hand to brush up
and down between Cathie’s thighs, the left edge of my forefinger barely
grazing the lips of her cunt. She whimpered.

“Yes you can,” I said into her right ear, feeling her whole body vibrate,
her naked bottom pushing back into my lap, her ass cheeks grasping at
my cock.

Past the coffee table in the immediate foreground, the television
muttered and flickered in the gloom of the living room. To the right,
an easy chair fronted by a footrest loomed.

“What’s your absolute best fantasy?” I insisted. “The one that always
makes you come? Maybe I can make it come true.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, continuing to rub the skin of her ass
against the denim covering my slowly leaking cock. “You’d be jealous.”

“Really?” I asked, perking up. “A fantasy is just a fantasy, we don’t have
to make it come true. Tell me about it and I promise I won’t be jealous.
Cross my heart.”

While Cathie ruminated on this I put my forefinger on her clitoris and
began a gentle circling motion. After awhile, I could feel body heat
rising up into the palm of my hand and a sweet, viscous lubrication
building up in her cunt. I darted my finger inside her cunt for a moment,
then resumed a wetter, smoother stroking of her clit. A sensual muskiness
filled the air and I could hear Cathie breathing more heavily.

Into her right ear I whispered, “I’m going to stick my cock up your ass.”

In response, Cathie moaned softly and pushed her bare bottom tightly
onto my cock. She was a sucker for dirty talk. I unzipped my jeans and
painfully extricated my raging erection. With some shifting of her hips
and legs, I managed to dip my cock into her amazingly hot, wet cunt and
pumped it in and out a few times.

“Oh, Goss, fuck me,” she said into a pillow.

Pulling my hips back, I managed to free myself from her cunt. Using my
right hand to guide it, I placed the tip of my circumcised cock at the
spongy opening of her anus and pushed forward slowly until her ass was
squeezing the head tightly.

“Tell me your fantasy,” I whispered. My right forefinger was still
massaging her clitoris. She was pushing her ass back at my cock, trying
to get it inside her rectum while I was pulling back, allowing only the
head to penetrate.

“It happens right here in the living room,” she said. “You bring three
of your friends… three guys… home for supper and they sit here on
the couch and you sit over on the chair.”

As a reward, I allow more of my cock to sink into Cathie’s asshole,
then start slowly and gently fucking in and out of her body. At the
same time, my finger is becoming more and more familiar with her clit.
The sexy odor becomes stronger and her liquid cunt becomes hotter.

“I’m wearing a white, see-through apron that covers my tits and my
thighs but there’s nothing at the back but the bow where it’s tied,”
Cathie continued breathlessly. “While I’m serving them supper on the
coffee table, all of them feel my bare bum. I can see you’re watching
but you don’t say anything about them feeling me up.”

“Yes, go on,” I said,  allowing my cock to slide up her ass to the root.
I began tickling the underside of her clitoris, which she seems to like.

“You tell me the supper isn’t any good,” said Cathie. “You tell me I
have to have a spanking. You pull me over your lap so everyone can see
my bare bum up in the air and you spank me…hard…for a long time.
You spank me and spank me.”

Cathie’s last sentence coincided with two deep thrusts of my cock,
in and out of her asshole. The month was July and I could feel that I
was soaked in sweat. Looking at Cathie’s back, I could see perspiration
droplets blossoming through her white T-shirt.

“Does it hurt?” I asked softly, continuing to fuck her ass.

“Yesss,” she answered. “It hurts and it burns and my bum is all red
and stinging. You just keep spanking me harder and harder until my whole
rear feels like it’s on fire.”

“Then what happens?” I asked.

“You push me down onto the carpet on my stomach and all three of them
stand over me and masturbate until they all come all over my ass and
back.”

At this point I had Cathie almost onto her stomach on the couch and I
was stroking in and out of her bottom with short, hard, angry strokes.

“Did you like that?” I asked “Did you like them coming all over you?”

“Yes, yes,” she gasped.

“Then what happens?” I wanted to know.

“Then one of them decides he wants to fuck my bum,” she said clearly.
“They all push me head first over the coffee table and the one who wants
to fuck my bum gets behind me. He pushes his cock all the way up my ass
the first time and he starts fucking me. And it hurts.”

“Do you like it?” I gasped, slightly out of breath.

“Yes. YES!” she said, fucking her ass onto my cock.

“Then what?” I whispered in her ear, my cock pistoning in her asshole.
I was very near to coming and I could feel Cathie was about to explode
too.

“He fucks me and he fucks me and he fucks me,” she breathed in rhythm
with our own fucking. “He fucks my bum and he fucks my bum and he fucks
my bum.”

I’m sure my voice cracked when I said, “Yes???”

“After the first one comes in me, another one takes his place and he
decides to fuck my ass again.”

“Mmmmppphhh,” I said.

“Then the second one comes in me and the third one fucks me up the bum.”

“And you like it,” I prompted, about to come myself.

“Yes!” Cathie cried out.

“You like it,” I said again.

“Yes, I like it, I like it!” Cathie cried out. “All of them fucking me
in my ass. I like it, I like it!”

I think I let go first, but it was close. As my cock was gushing come
up her ass, suddenly her asshole clamped down hard on my cock, squeezing
it tighter and tighter. I experienced spasm after spasm during the time
her anal canal had an intense grip on my cock. Eventually Cathie relaxed
and my cock lay, erect, like a wooden pole buried deep in her bottom.

When I returned to my senses, after minutes that seemed like eons,
I heard Cathie say, “Leave it up there, Goss. We’ll watch Jay Leno,
then I’ll tell you another fantasy, a better one.”

–

Archive-name: Dreams/cathfan2.txt
Archive-author: Gossamer Wasp
Archive-title: Cathie’s Fantasy #2

At the end of our last installment….

When I returned to my senses, after minutes that seemed like eons,
I heard Cathie say, “Leave it up there, Goss. We’ll watch Jay Leno,
then I’ll tell you another fantasy, a better one.”

***************************************************************************

They were playing the new Tonight theme on television and Cathie and I
were in the much the same position as we’d been before the show started.
I was on my left side with my back to the backrest of the couch and
she was curled up, spoon like, in front of me. She was still naked from
the waist down but I’d pulled up her white T-shirt so I could feel the
smoothness of her soft, white back. The shirt was crumpled into her
straight black, pageboy hair.

Although I still wore my faded blue jeans and a black T-shirt, my flaccid
cock was still stuck comfortably up her relaxed asshole.

“Do want to hear another fantasy, Goss?” she asked dreamily.

“I dunno,” I said honestly. “I dunno if I can hard again so soon and I
don’t want to waste it.” I nuzzled her neck for awhile.

Cathie laughed softly. “I don’t think that’s a problem,” she said and
I knew her large, dark brown eyes were twinkling. I looked down at the
thin tube of my cock disappearing into her asshole and saw it twitch
with anticipation. Her buttocks were large, white, round and smooth.
Using two fingers I pried her hind cheeks apart and looked at the brown,
spongy asshole encircling my cock. I noticed her asshole was still loose,
leaving room for the expansion of my cock.

“What’s this fantasy about?” I asked innocently.

“The usual,” Cathie said. “All my really good fantasies are much the same.
Some strange men strip me naked, spank me and fuck me in my bum. I guess
I’m just neurotic or something. The strange men never seem to want to
kiss me or fuck me normally in my cunt.”

“Hmmm.” I said, trying to be casual. It was difficult for me to pretend
to be casual  when my cock was expanding in Cathie’s ass. I also guess
she’s leaving out a common element in her fantasies. She likes it.
“So what happens?”

“Well,” she said. “I’m laying her on the couch in my pink bathrobe.
You know the terry cloth one with the zipper that goes all the way down
the front? I’ve just had a shower and I’m stark naked underneath. Anyway,
I’m watching TV with the drapes closed and all the lights on in the living
room and you’re away on a business trip so I’m all alone in the house.”

“Uh huh,” I said, my right hand massaging Cathie’s fleshy right asscheek,
stroking, squeezing, pinching and pushing on it.

“Suddenly there are these two guys, dressed all in black and wearing
black ski masks, in the room with me. I have no idea how they got
into the house. I jump up and one of them grabs my arms from behind,
holding me. He’s big and heavy and somehow I know he’s the subordinate.
The guy I think of as the  leader is standing in front of me. He’s tall
and thin and he’s wearing black leather gloves on his hands and he
reaches out and pulls my zipper down past my belly button.

“Doesn’t anyone say anything?” I asked, three of the fingers on my right
hand inserted into her hot, wet cunt.

“I say something like, ‘leave me alone or I’ll call the police’ and
I scream a little,” Cathie answered, “but you know we don’t have any
neighbours. Then the leader says, ‘Fuck you, you cunt,’ and pulls my
bathrobe open so he can see my tits. He grabs a nipple in each hand and
squeezes and twists them. I’m in terrible pain.”

“Uh huh,” I say, thinking that the ‘terrible pain’ in her fantasy probably
isn’t so terrible, in a fantasy, anyway. I pulled my cock almost all the
way out of her ass, then jammed it tight, all the way into her asshole.
Her buttocks sealed tight against my thighs.

“Then the one behind me pulls my robe all the way open and holds me
tight against him and I can feel his hardon against my ass through the
terry cloth and his pants. The leader begins slapping my tits with both
of his hands. The leather gloves keep cracking and cracking against my
tits, up and down, left and right, hurting my nipples and turning my
breasts bright red.”

I said, “Get on your hands and knees, Cathie. I feel like I can fuck
your ass for hours.”

She scrambled up onto her hands and knees, incidentally dislodging my
thick, hard, heavy cock from her bottom. I settled in behind her on my
knees and, using my right hand to aim it, forced my cock all the way up
her asshole again. With my hands on each side of her waist and my eyes
on the tight, wide, round curves of her buttocks, I started fucking her
ass with a long, slow, steady rhythm.

“Oh, Goss,” she said. “I might come any second now.”

“Finish the fantasy,” I demanded.

“OK,” she said. “The guy is slapping my breasts, really hurting me.
Then he says, ‘Lay her down, I’m going to spank her fat ass’ and the
guy behind me pulls me onto my back on the couch. He grabs my legs and
pulls them up over my head, which curves my back and raises up my robe,
leaving my bare bum hanging free, up in the air. The leader begins
spanking my bare bottom with his gloved hand, really hard.”

Abruptly, Cathie stopped talking and began pushing her ass back into
my thighs, rising up on her knees on the couch. “Oh, Goss,” she said.
“Oh Goss, fuck my bum really hard. It feels so good tonight. Fuck me
hard, Goss. Fuck my ass really hard! It’s never felt this good!”

I found myself pounding my cock into her asshole, my thighs slapping
onto her pliant buttocks.

“The leader spanks my bare bum for a long time,” she said. “He spanks
me until my ass is red and burning hot. Ah, Goss, he spanks my bum and
he spanks it and he spanks it, really hard. I’ve never had such a bad
spanking in my whole life.”

It occurs to me what she is describing is slightly similar to what I’m
doing at that very moment with my thighs.

“Then what?” I ask desperately.

“He stops spanking me after half an hour and he tells the other guy, ‘I’m
going to fuck this whore in the ass until she can’t sit down for a week.
Then you can fuck her ass too’ and the guy who’s holding my legs up in the
air grunts or something. The next thing I know, the leader has his pants
down and he’s kneeling on the couch and he’s holding my legs with his
arms and shoulders and I can feel his big cock jamming into my asshole.
Without any lubrication or anything he shoves his cock all the way up
my bum and it burns and burns. Then he starts fucking my ass and there’s
nothing I can do about it except lay there and take it.”

“What about the other guy?” I ask out of curiosity. My erection feels
like it’s a piece of wood, no real sensation, and I continue fucking
Cathie’s ass.

“Oh, oh,” she gasps. “The big guy sticks his cock in my mouth.
It’s upside down because my head is pulled back and he’s behind me.
He makes me suck on his cock and move my tongue around all over it,
all the time the leader is fucking me in the ass.”

I felt a very strange sensation in my loins about that time and I pushed
and I wiggled and I squeezed my cock as far up Cathie’s ass as it would
go. Then I held it there, more or less motionless, the circumcised head
feeling like it was floating in air. It was a very erotic feeling.

“I’m about to come like an ocean,” Cathie said calmly, her head scrunched
down into a pillow at the head of the couch and her hind end stuck up
into the air.

“Finish the fucking fantasy,” I pleaded.

“The leader finally comes in my bum,” she said. “I can feel him squirting
and squirting inside me. After awhile he pulls his cock out and they
force me onto my knees on the carpet. The big guy, who has a very big
cock, pushes it into my bum and it hurts! He bumfucks me for a long,
long time. When he finally comes, his cock lifts me right off the floor
up into the air.”

“Is it over?” I pleaded with Cathie. “Is the fantasy over yet?”

“No,” Cathie breathed. “No, Goss. Actually, when I’m masturbating with
this fantasy, I don’t have an orgasm until the next part.”

“Jeeze! What’s the next part?” I ask, my cock quivering in her ass.

“They roll me onto my back,” Cathie continued. “Then the leader pees on
me, all over my body. When he’s finished, the big guy puts his cock in
my mouth and pees. He makes me drink his pee. Then I come.”

At that moment I felt an explosion of twitching, spasming, rock hard
muscles squeezing my cock. Instinctively, I instantly yanked my cock
out of Cathie’s asshole and she farted and screamed long and loud.
I assumed the sudden removal of my cock had intensified her orgasm.
She fell onto her belly and twisted and twitched for a long, long time.

When she was finished, I grabbed my cock with my right hand and pumped
it exactly twice. I had an intense spasm and watched my sperm shoot out
of the tip of my cock and splatter all over Cathie’s bare ass. And again.
And again. And again. Finally, I collapsed beside her on the couch.

My fogged mind heard my voice saying, “Let’s keep it down to one fantasy
a night from now on, OK, Cath? This is gonna kill me.”

–

Archive-name: Dreams/cathfan3.txt
Archive-author:
Archive-title: Cathie’s Fantasy #3

At the end of our last installment….

When she was finished, I grabbed my cock with my right hand and pumped
it exactly twice. I had an intense spasm and watched my sperm shoot out
of the tip of my cock and splatter all over Cathie’s bare ass. And again.
And again. And again. Finally, I collapsed beside her on the couch.

My fogged mind heard my voice saying, “Let’s keep it down to one fantasy
a night from now on, OK, Cath? This is gonna kill me.”

*****************************************************************

“Do you want to hear a fantasy, Goss?” asked Cathie.

I groaned. “I’m not sure I can take another fantasy of yours,” I said.
“It’s been two days and I’m still not fully recovered from the last
two fantasies.”

We were in the small kitchen of her house. Cathie was washing and I
was drying. She wore tight, almost new blue jeans that accentuated
the wideness of her hips and the protruding fullness of her buttocks.
They swelled and swelled in a pair of round curves. She’d managed to
splash soapy water on the front of her Harvard maroon shirt.

I’m not particularly affected by breasts. It just happened, as it
usually does for the female figure, her breasts were big and buoyant,
to balance her big ass, I guess. As unaffected as I am, I noticed that
her nipples were hard and erect through the soft material of her shirt.
I reached over and grabbed her right nipple between the forefinger and
thumb of my right hand, just feeling the rubbery protrusion.

Cathie shook her head to get her bangs out of her eyes. She had fine
black hair, cut in a pageboy that fell to her shoulders. Her hair framed
a perfectly smooth, white complexion. Her face was heart shaped, with
thick, luscious lips topped by a small straight nose and overly large,
deep brown eyes. Although I found her figure to be slightly overblown,
she had the most beautiful, delicate, porcelain face I’d ever seen.

“Ow,” she said, obviously referring to my fingers pinching her nipple.
“I’m going to have my period soon. My tits are ultra sensitive.”

I immediately let go.

“No,” she said. “Pinch the other one for awhile, Goss.”

Obediently, my right hand reached across her body and my fingers squeezed
her left nipple through the maroon shirt material.

“Do you want to hear my fantasy?” she asked again.

“Give me a break, Cath,” I said. “I just got home from work and ate
dinner.”

“Go get a beer from the fridge,” she told me. “A beer will loosen you up.”

I let go of her nipple with my right hand and flipped the dish towel
onto the counter. I got a beer out of the fridge and sipped at it.

Cathie continued to wipe dishes and put them in the rack. “Chug it,”
she said.

“It’s Monday night. Do I want to do that?” I asked.

“Yeah, chug it,” she said.

I chugged down the beer, then got another bottle from the fridge.

“Chug that one too,” she said, gazing out the window over the sink.

“How loose do you want me?” I asked, draining the bottle.

“Keep going,” Cathie told me.

I retrieved another bottle and started drinking it. I noticed the mauve
colors of the setting sun, shining through the window, were starting to
look a bit fuzzy around the edges.

“Maybe I’ll have a shower tonight,” Cathie said, draining the sink.

“Um, golden?” I asked, having connected the beer to the fantasy. I’m not
at all stupid.

“Maybe,” she answered.

We’d both read about golden showers but we’d never done anything like
that. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to do it.

“I don’t know, Cath,” I said, sipping at the beer. “That’s the outer
limits, don’t you think?”

“It’s no big deal for you,” she answered. “All you have to do is pee.
I’m the one who has to sit under it and get wet. Do you think you can
do it?”

“If I have enough beer, I’m sure I can do it,” I answered. “I’m just
not sure I want to do it.”

“Well, have another beer and think about it,” said Cathie. I got another
beer and thought about it. In the meantime, Cathie grabbed the dish
towel and started drying the rest of the dishes. I stood in the corner
and stayed out of her way.

“If we did it, how do you think we should do it?” she asked.

“Hmm?” I said, too embarrassed to say anything.

“Should I have my clothes on or off?” she asked. “Should I lay down?
On my back or my front? Maybe I should kneel down in front of you,
like I’m going to suck your cock?”

“Whatever,” I said. We went into the living room and sat down on the
couch. Cathie clicked the TV on with the remote control and we found
ourselves watching the news. She curled up with her legs tucked under
her body, facing me from the other end of the couch. I sat sprawled out,
slouching, on the other end. I was wearing my blue elastic track pants
and a floppy gray sweatshirt.

After awhile, I became uncomfortable as Cathie stared at me. She was
looking at the stretched crotch of my track pants.

“Yes?” I asked, somewhat exasperated.

“Are you full yet?” she asked eagerly.

“No,” I said sullenly, although I could feel a slight heaviness in
my bladder.

She jumped up and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll get you another beer,” she
said, disappearing around the corner. A few seconds later she was back,
depositing two bottles in front of me on the coffee table. “Drink up,”
she encouraged me as she settled back on her side of the couch.

“Yeah,” I said, going for another bottle. “If I keep this up, I won’t
be able to do much tonight.” This was a somewhat forlorn announcement,
since I knew I didn’t have much choice in any matter that night.

She was tucked up on her end of the couch again. “All you have to do is
pee,” she said. “It’s not like I’m expecting marathon sex or anything.”

“Sooner or later,” I agreed.

I was finishing the sixth beer when the news ended.

“Don’t you have to go yet?” Cathie sounded frustrated.

Although I did have to go, I said, “No.”

“Wow,” she said, a smile dancing around the very edges of her full
lips. Her brown eyes twinkled. “I never noticed your capacity before.
It’s amazing.”

“Practice,” I bragged, my eye teeth floating.

“Not even a dribble?” she asked, smiling at me.

“No,” I was gritting my teeth.

“I’ll get you a beer,” she volunteered, jumping up and running into the
kitchen before I could object. I looked at the ceiling and thought that
eventually I’d have to give in. Still, I was determined to hold out as
long as possible.

She came back with three beers, two for me and one for her. We watched
a half hour sitcom and I made a point of not laughing at anything.
In spite of myself, I gobbled down the seventh and eighth beers.

“So what are you going to do?” Cathie asked finally, perched like a
vulture on the other end of the couch. “Are you going to pee on yourself?”
Her eyes kept dipping down to my crotch at regular intervals.

“Really, I’m fine,” I lied. “I just don’t need to go yet, honest.”

“I’m impressed,” she said. She wandered into the kitchen and came back
with a beer for herself and numbers nine and ten for me.

Glumly, I eyed the two open bottles on the coffee table and I had a
mental flash. This was the first time in my life I’d ever counted beers.
Feigning innocence, Cathie dropped her long, black tresses into my lap,
laid down on her back with her head firmly against my lower abdomen.
The pressure was incredibly out of proportion to the weight of her head.
In amazement, I watched my right hand reach out for a beer bottle and
tip the neck into my mouth. I drank.

“So,” said Cathie. “So if you’re ever ready, how are we going to do
this?” She twisted her head from side to side, increasing my discomfort.
I concentrated on the television screen. There were tough cops and bad,
bad guys.

“I think I’d like to feel it on my face,” she announced. “Wouldn’t you
like to pee all over my face, Honey?”

I just grunted and even that hurt.

“Oh, I understand,” she continued, although I couldn’t fathom how she
understood anything from my neutral grunt. “You want to pee in my mouth.
Well, I didn’t want to do that but I’ll do it for you, Goss. You can
pee in my mouth and I’ll drink it.”

“Cathie, that’s not necessary,” I objected.

“Well, if you’re going to force me, I’ll just have to do it,” she ignored
me, turning onto her left side and facing away from the television.
She grabbed the waist of my track pants and pulled them down to my thighs.
After she started nuzzling my flaccid cock with her lips, I suddenly
became aware of how sensitive it had become over the past hour or so.

“I know you have to,” she said. “It’s OK, Goss. Pee in my mouth.”

I felt her lips close around my cock and slide down to the root. When she
began gently sucking, I moaned loudly. Still, I couldn’t let go, even
when I felt an acidic burning at the tip of my cock and knew I was leaking
urine into her mouth. I could feel it as Cathie swallowed once or twice.

Even though I was trying to hold back, I felt several more spurts of
urine shoot out of the end of my cock and into her mouth. Cathie sucked
harder and swallowed several more times. She made a “Mmmmmm,” sound
that vibrated along my cock and I spurted again and again. She continued
swallowing in gulps.

I could feel the tip of her tongue lightly flicking the slit of my cock
as I finally gained partial control over myself.

“Cath, stop,” I said, trying to pull away from her mouth. Unfortunately,
I was sitting solidly on the couch and my back was tight against the
backrest and I couldn’t move very far. I grasped her head with my hands
on her ears and tried, gently, to pull her head away. It didn’t work.
Her mouth was busily sucking on my cock and the suction made my pulling
on her head very painful for me.

“Oh, geeze,” I said, feeling a stream of urine shoot out of me. Oddly,
at that second I was thinking that I’d rarely peed like this, sitting
down, shooting up instead of down. I watched Cathie’s cheeks suctioning
in and out and her Adam’s apple bobbing.

Watching her perfect face in profile, I purposely urinated in her mouth
for the first time and saw her to swallow my pee. My mind was growing
more and more sexually excited, although my cock remained flaccid.

“Cath, Cath, on your back,” I muttered. I raised up and twisted to my left
and she dutifully twisted herself onto her back under me. Eventually,
I ended up on my knees above her face. Still, she would not let my cock
out of her mouth.

I tried to grasp my cock with my right hand but her damp lips were in
the way. “Let go for a second,” I insisted. Cathie finally opened her
mouth and allowed my cock to swing free. I grasped it in my right hand.

“Pee on my face for awhile,” she said.

“The couch?” I wondered.

“Fuck the couch,” she said. “Pee on my face.”

I directed a long stream of warm urine over her eyes, nose and mouth.
Cathie giggled. “It’s up my nose,” she complained, snorting.

“I want to see it going into your perfect mouth,” I said.

“Me too,” she said. “Push back a bit so I can see too.”

I sat back on my haunches and released a long stream of urine at
her open mouth. I could see her eyes watching the process intently.
Eventually her mouth filled up and there was a period of swallowing,
choking and spitting. I forced myself to stop.

Cathie shook her head. Her hands were trapped behind my legs. “Turn me
over and pull my jeans down and pee on my panties,” she asked. “Soak them,
then spank my bum a little.”

Disciplining myself not to piss, the elastic of the track pants tight
under my balls and my cock swinging free, I stood beside the couch
and grabbed the waist of Cathie’s jeans, rolling her onto her stomach.
She couldn’t help, that would have spoiled things for her. Reaching under
her, I undid her belt and the button at her waist. Then I unzipped
her jeans. Finally, I yanked the waist of her jeans to her thighs,
leaving sheer, pink panties covering her bulging ass.

Still standing upright, I sighed with relief and holding my cock in my
right hand, I allowed a long stream of urine to shower down onto her up
thrust, pink panty-covered ass. As the urine soaked the silky material,
the pink panties became transparent, highlighting her big, twin globes.

“It’s so warm it’s hot,” said Cathie, her face buried in pillows. “Goss,
it feels so good and so sexy. I want you to pee on me from now on,
every time you need to pee, do it on me. Don’t waste it in the toilet!”

Although I had more in me, I stopped the urine stream directed onto
her ass.

“From now on,” said Cathie, her face still muffled in the pillows, “Every
time you need to pee at home, Goss, just stand up and pull your cock out.
Then stick it in my mouth and let go. It tastes kind of salty but I like
the taste. Somehow, drinking you makes me feel peaceful and sexy.”

“OK,” I said, nonplused.

“Now spank my wet bum for awhile, through my panties,” Cathie said.
“Spank it really hard, OK?”

I pushed the coffee table away behind me and knelt beside the couch on
my knees. My right hand smacked Cathie’s bottom.

“Ohhh, yeah,” she murmurred. “Spank me good, lover.”

I have to admit, I’m always fairly disinterested in spanking Cathie but it
seems to give her pleasure, so I continued to slap her bottom as hard as
I could. I got some satisfaction out of watching her writhe on the couch,
pumping her hips down into the couch cushions like she was fucking them.

“Pull my panties down and spank my bare bum,” she pleaded after five
or ten minutes. Grasping the elastic waist with both hands, I pulled
her wet panties down, just below the lower curve of her ass cheeks.
The twin globes of her wide, fat ass were pink and glowing.

Cupping my hand, I landed several slaps on each round hind cheek.
Cathie yelled, “Ow! Damn! It hurts! It hurts so good, Goss! Ow, Owwww!
My whole bum is just burning up. Spank me some more, Goss. Spank my bum
harder and harder.”

In spite of her pleas, I continued to slap her fat bottom with exactly
the same intensity. I knew she didn’t want it harder, just longer. Being
clinically detached from the punishment, I was the perfect instrument.
I never got carried away and hurt her more than she enjoyed.

More than ten minutes passed before she said, “Stop, stop, I’ve had
enough for tonight. Really, I have.”

I stopped, pulled her maroon shirt up around her neck and began kissing
her, up and down her backbone.

“Goss,” she said.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Do you think you could pee on my tits and then slap them for awhile?”

“Yes, Cathie,” I said, standing beside the couch. She wriggled onto her
back and I moved my cock over her breasts. After peeing on her breasts,
I couldn’t help directing the stream of urine onto her valentine face.
She opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out. I sprayed my urine onto
her tongue, into her mouth and all over her face again.

After I stopped, Cathie swallowed and licked her lips. “Slap my tits,”
she said. “Make them as red as my bottom, OK, Goss?”

“OK, sit up,” I said. Cathie sat with her back against the backrest
and removed the maroon shirt, exposing swinging tits topped by large,
brown nipples. She then secured her arms, trapping them behind her back.

“Slap them hard,” she said. “Slap my tits and make them sting like
my bum!”

My right hand did a short arc and my palm landed flush on the bulging
side of her left breast with a loud cracking noise. My left palm then
connected loudly with the outside of her right breast. “More,” she said.
“Harder. Make it hurt.”

I landed several slaps on her breasts and the white flesh began to turn
pink. Cathie lay back against the backrest and thrust her breasts out.

“Take my belt out of my jeans and whip my tits,” she said. “On the
nipples. Whip my nipples.”

I reached down and pulled the black leather belt out of the loops on
her pants. The belt was long and thin.

“Whip me, Goss,” she pleaded. “Whip me hard.”

I snapped the belt against her breasts and nipples twenty or thirty times,
stopping now and then to watch the red stripes form on the pink flesh.

Cathie was crying but she was pleading, “On my nipples, Goss. Whip me
on my nipples.

My heart wasn’t in it but I snapped the leather onto her right nipple,
then the left, then the right. I alternated for several minutes.
Both of Cathie’s big, floppy breasts were bright red and I could see
welts forming.

“Stop,” she finally commanded.

I stood back, puffing, with the belt hanging from my right hand.
Cathie looked deep into my eyes and said, “Now my ass again. Do my ass,
the same way you did my tits. Whip my ass with the belt until I can’t
sit on it for a day or two, OK, Goss?”

Looking into her eyes, I nodded. Cathie reached behind her and took two of
the pillows. Then she arranged herself, face down on the couch with the
pillows under her thighs. Her big ass was pushed far up into the air.
At this point, the pinkness was mostly fading. I watched her take a
pillow from the other end of the couch and put it under her face.
She turned her head until her left cheek was against the pillow.
I couldn’t avoid that one, big brown eye, boring into both of my eyes.

“I know you don’t spank me very hard,” Cathie said flatly, with no
inflection. Her glare penetrated my eyes. “Tonight I want you to put
your back into it,” she continued in a monotone. “Tonight I want you to
hurt my bum, Goss. It’s OK.”

Cathie’s head was to my left, her straight black hair mussed with
thin strands spread in a spray of perspiration across her high, right
cheekbone. Her wide, white back was bare, bisected by the backbone,
pointing down at her waist. Because of the pillows under her thighs,
her ass spread up and round, two delicious fat, pink round cheeks pointed
at the ceiling. Her long legs tapered back to the other end of the couch.

It occurred to me, Cathie was probably a sadist’s wet dream. But I wasn’t
a sadist.

“I’ve never really whipped you,” I said. “Tonight is our first time with a
belt and I had a hard time, whipping your breasts. I don’t know,” I said,
looking down at my bare feet, buried in the green pile of the carpet.

Cathie raised up on her elbows, her red, welted breasts swinging from
side to side. “Look at me,” she demanded. I looked into her eyes.

“I make your fantasies come true, don’t I?” she asked.

“Yes,” I admitted. Cathie had never refused to do anything I wanted her
to do.

“Tonight,” she said. “Just tonight, I want my ass whipped like I’ve
fantasized about it being whipped all my life. My mother and father
always spanked me like you do it, just enough to sting. Since I was
eleven or twelve years old, I’ve dreamed about a big, cruel man tying
me down and beating my ass black and blue. It’s made me come a thousand
times since then. Tonight, Goss, I’m so horny, I want it to come true!
Tonight the pain is making me hornier, the worse it gets! Really! I almost
came when you were whipping my tits but I waited because I want to come
while my ass is being whipped, like in my fantasy.”

“I’ll try,” I said.

Turning her head away so her left cheek was against the pillow she said,
“You’re a cocksucker, Goss. You’re a lousy shit of a lover and I hate
your guts. You’ve never satisfied me, ever.”

Grasping the belt buckle in my palm, I wrapped a loop of the thin,
leather belt around my hand. When I stopped, there was about 24 inches of
belt hanging loose. I raised my right arm and swung down past Cathie’s
bare bottom. The thin strip of leather whistled through the air and
then cracked against the flesh of her ass. Cathie shrieked and a thin
welt bubbled up across the widest part of both of her buttocks. In fact,
I was pretending anger but the result was the same.

Cathie was crying freely but she said, “Yessss. That’s it, Goss.
Just like that. Whip my ass just like that.”

I raised my right arm and brought the belt down on a diagonal. crossing
the original stripe with a new welt. Cathie shrieked again but raised
her ass up higher into the air. Sidearm, I lifted and snapped the belt
directly across the underside of her buttocks.

“Yes! Yes!” she cried. tears spilling onto the pillow. “Again! Again!”

Levering my body from side to side, I cracked the belt down onto her fat
ass five or six more times. I was sweating like a pig. Her big bottom
had welts all over both cheeks.

I paused and she cried, “More. More, Goss.”

Deliberately, with all the strength in my right arm, I continued
to whip her ass. Although she thrashed violently from side to side,
Cathie never moved her hands out from under her body. In fact, as the
welts crisscrossed her big ass, she kept pushing it up, anticipating
each stroke.

The muscles of my arm were burning with fatigue after ten minutes and
I could see that Cathie’s lower back, bulging bottom and upper thighs
were displaying a violent red color. Her ass was a fiery red circle.

“Stop,” she croaked and I dropped the belt on the carpet.

“Piss on my ass,” she moaned.

I directed a long stream of urine down her backbone, over the red-striped
mounds of her buttocks, between her thighs, onto her cunt.

“Now fuck my bum,” Cathie said. “No lubrication. Just stick your cock
up my ass and fuck me.”

I moved onto her back, keeping my weight on my elbows and knees so I
wasn’t pressing onto her abused ass. I immediately had an erection and
I tried to burrow between her thighs, into her pussy.

“No, Goss” she said clearly. “Force your cock up my asshole and fuck me
until you come. Don’t worry about me, I’m already coming non-stop.”

As directed, I burrowed between her red ass cheeks until I felt the
circumcised head of my cock move though her anus.

“Oh, yeah,” said Cathie. “Now stick it all the way up my bum. Push it in.”
Her hind end was wiggling and pushing back at me. My cock, in spite of
a certain amount of friction, slid all the way up her ass.

“Now bumfuck me, Goss,” she said. “Just fuck me up my ass as fast and
as hard as you can do it.”

After awhile, the burning sensation left my poor cock and it was sliding
in and out of her ass at a leisurely pace.

“No, harder and faster,” Cathie demanded.

As my hips pistoned back and forth and my cock burned rapidly in and
out of her asshole, I began to feel an orgasm approaching.

“Come in my bum, Goss!” Cathie yelled suddenly. “Come! Up my fat bum!
Fill my big bum with your come, Goss. Give me a come enema in my bum.
I want to feel you coming in my bum!”

When I let go, it felt like a river flowing up her ass. I swear, I didn’t
stop pumping sperm into her asshole for thirty seconds. Then there was
another thirty seconds as my spasms continued.

“Oh, Goss, I’m so full of you,” said Cathie. “You can pee in me too,
if you have to. You can piss up my ass.”

I was so relaxed, it was several seconds before I realized I was urinating
in Cathie’s ass. I didn’t do anything consciously. I just lay on her
back with my cock up her ass, pissing into her. The urine just kept
coming and coming, flowing into her rectum.

“It’s perfect,” Cathie breathed. “Just like my fantasy. Pee in my bum,
lover. Keep peeing in my bum.”

After awhile, it just stopped. I was so relaxed, my flaccid cock popped
out of Cathie’s ass and I fell off her back, onto the couch cushions.
She twisted around and scrunched down until she could get my cock in
her mouth. She sucked on my limp cock for several minutes, her tongue
licking all over it.

I felt her lips slide the length of my cock and let it fall out of
her mouth.

“One more thing,” she said. “You have to pee in my mouth one last time,
Goss. Come on, let it go. I have to drain you.”

I felt her lips circle just below the head of my cock. The tip was barely
in her mouth. I pissed in her mouth and she swallowed. Another spurt of
urine squirted out of my cock and into her mouth and Cathie swallowed
it again.

I was amazed to feel my whole body continue to relax until I felt like
an insensate blob of clay. All I could feel was a long stream of urine,
apparently endless, pumping out of my cock and down Cathie’s throat.
She swallowed it all, then sucked the last gush of urine out of my cock.
Finally, she licked the last drops off the tip.

When she moved up and snuggled into my arms she said, “I have another
fantasy and it’s really gross. Do you want to hear it?”

“No,” I said, just before I fell asleep.

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Roseshannon sipped her coffee as she stared out the window
at the beautiful rolling acres of her country home.  Her
life was perfect, she had accomplished everything she set
out to do, a rich husband, a fabulous home, a host of
friends and well-wishers, a beautiful daughter, but she had
yet to experience the joy and happiness that was supposed to
come with such complete fulfillment of the American dream.
She thought about a time as a child she was given a hand-me-
down dress from a cousin and she had been unable to contain
her excitement every opportunity she had to wear it.
Contrasted with the dull and empty feelings she experienced
today as she surveyed her teeming closets of fabulous
designer dresses and bureaus stuffed with every conceivable
type of lingerie, she wondered when the happiness was
supposed to begin.

Maybe it was just a matter of age, Roseshannon mused.
Perhaps the possession of things of paramount importance to
a child  meant very little to an adult. Her window looked
down at the huge swimming pool landscaped at an exorbitant
price to appear like a stone quarry lagoon.  Zeta, her
thirteen-year-old daughter, was sunning herself on a
polished surfboard in the middle of the pool.  Why was her
gaze drawn so magnetically to the burgeoning sexuality of
her own daughter?  Was that some natural curiosity when a
daughter reached that level of physical development? Did all
mothers obsess about their daughters bulging breasts and
flaring hips? Roseshannon was perplexed because she had
never felt the slightest sexual inclination for another
female, in fact, she had never felt the slightest sexual
inclination whatsoever.  Certainly not for her own daughter.

Zeta was wearing a tiny bikini bought by her father that
probably cost more than Roseshannon’s father had earned in
any one year of his short life, yet Roseshannon had never
seen a trace of joy on the face of her child.  Utterly
extravagant presents were accepted as a matter of fact as
though it was nothing more than her due. The joy of
possession was not a matter of age in Zeta’s case. Maybe the
crux of the matter was in the difficulty involved in the
acquisition.

Roseshannon realized that Robert, her usually absent
husband, seemed to contradict this concept.  Even with all
his easily acquired, inherited wealth, he was driven by some
inner desperation to acquire more and more. The
contradiction could be only apparent, perhaps having
acquired great wealth through no effort, he felt compelled
to increase it to reassure himself that he deserved it.
Maybe he was not happy but he was very occupied. Yet it was
not merely things Robert was driven to acquire; he seemed
mostly concerned with power.  His primary source of
amusement was to have senators and congressmen call him to
ask how they were expected to vote on certain issues, not
that he was some expert on the far reaching repercussions of
government policy but because he had supplied the money
required for their election in the first place.  He enjoyed
the feeling of power when he helped divert government wealth
from programs for inner city kids to another anti-missile
missile system that would be obsolete by the time it was
built.  This pastime was expensive and his days and nights
were spent in an unceasing search for ways to accumulate
more wealth.

Yet he was not driven to assure prosperity for posterity, he
had only one skinny little daughter as an heir and she had
certainly not inherited any of his lust for acquisition.  He
had no other progeny because the sex life of Roseshannon and
Robert had barely survived their first year of marriage.
Neither seemed very concerned about this missing aspect of
their lives.  Robert exhausted most of his prodigious
energies in his accumulations of wealth; Roseshannon had
never had much sexual interest to begin with.

Sex she had participated in only when deemed necessary to
gain some imagined end and she had always been thankful that
she had not been afflicted by the need for love and sexual
fulfillment like some of her high school friends.  Most had
fallen in love with the first boy who managed to get his
dick in their pussies and had spent most of their youth
chained to first a diaper pail and then a minivan hauling
children around to their myriad activities.  Some had even
married so badly that they had to work outside the home to
help support the family.  Roseshannon, whose father had been
a construction worker and mother a seamstress, could not
have endured such a life, to get up early every morning and
report somewhere to be told what to do all day.  She thought
she would be repelled by the idea of having a boss.

She heard a muffled knock at her door and Helga, her
housekeeper, entered bearing a pure silver percolator.
“Would you like a little more coffee, Miz Roseshannon?”
Helga was a big woman, right at six feet tall with huge,
bullet-shaped, double D breasts. However, she now dressed so
severely with such straight cut dresses that her small waist
was hidden, giving the impression that she was thick-
waisted. She had no regard for appearing attractive.  With
her hair in a tight knot at her neck, the tall housekeeper
exuded confidence born of extreme competence.  She had an
austere, judgmental countenance that most people found
completely intimidating.

“I probably would have enjoyed it more a half-hour ago when
it was fresh.  What do I need to do to get a little
attention around here, install a bell tower?” Roseshannon
said hatefully.  She knew she was doing it again, allowing
her general displeasure to bring out the bitch in her but
what did it matter?  Was she supposed to step lightly around
the feelings of servants?  What did anything matter when she
was bogged down in such a morass of discontent?

Helga stifled her resentment and poured the coffee.  The
buxom housekeeper had worked in this house for this family
all her life.  She was here when Robert married this ill-
natured gold digger and Helga had learned to tolerate her
moodiness.  When in one of her black moods, Miz Roseshannon
at times seemed fascinated by her great bosom and the woman
was staring at her tits now with rapt attention.  Helga did
not know what to make of it, the woman seemed unaware of
what she was doing.  She approached her with her coffee and
Roseshannon never raised her eyes above the jutting
protrusions of her breasts.  Helga purposefully stood close
enough to torment the woman. She could see out the window by
bending down.

“Looks like Zeta is working on her tan again, Lord, she’s
already brown as a berry.”   She purposely pushed her great
breast snugly against Roseshannon’s hand resting on the back
of her chair,  A visible jolt passed through the woman but
she did not move her hand, neither to increase the contact
nor diminish it; she merely endured it without acknowledging
to herself the tantalizing  tingles dancing up and down her
arm from the point of contact.  Helga maintained the contact
for a while, moving her ample breast slightly over the back
of the hand.  Would Roseshannon finally do something about
her apparent fascination?  When she would not, Helga excused
herself and left the room.

Still rather nervous about why Helga had stood so close, so
intimidating; and why had she pushed her huge breast against
her hand?  Sure, she was looking at her breasts, she
couldn’t see anything else when Helga was in the room, they
were like the bumpers of a 55 Buick.  “Omigod!  Did she
think because I was looking at them that I wanted to touch
them?  How embarrassing that she would leap to such a
conclusion.” Roseshannon thought with some alarm but soon
dismissed it because she really did not care about the
housekeeper’s presumptions.

Roseshannon decided to go for a drive to get her mind off
her current apathy.  She felt a slight tremor of excitement
as she opened up the powerful sports car along the deserted
road leading across rich farmland owned by her husband’s
family for several generations.  Then she saw the flashing
lights of a patrol car bearing down on her in the rearview
mirror.  Her speedometer needle was close to eighty she
realized in panic.  She slowed rapidly and pulled off the
road, preparing for a stern lecture from the unfamiliar
state trooper.  With some consternation she saw the trooper
was a female.  She might have been able to flirt her way out
of a ticket otherwise.

“Is this your car, Lady, or your pimp’s?”  Shirley, the
policewoman asked by way of a cordial opening.  She had been
recently transferred because of several openings in the
Sheriff’s department and was pulling double duty for most of
the week. She was very tired and this primadonna tooling
around in her obscenely expensive car just grated on her
nerves. Her competitive nature compelled her to bring the
woman down a notch or two.

Being in too bad a mood to put up with such a crude remark,
Roseshannon reacted with a disparaging comment about cops
who felt safer harassing honest citizens than looking for
real criminals who might prove dangerous. Roseshannon would
have been a bunch better off not to have adopted such a
haughty attitude. A mild case of invidious comparison
erupted into unconcealed animosity as the policewoman made
her get out of the car and lean against it with her legs
spread.

“But I didn’t do anything!” She protested, “Do you treat
everyone like a convicted serial killer?” Roseshannon was
glad she had on her nice business pantsuit but wished she
had bothered to put on her panties before she left. The
routine search for weapons was being conducted with such
avid fervor around her hips and buttocks that the
policewoman was bound to notice their absence. Such a
development filled her with as much panic as the unconcealed
hostility of the search.

“Do you get turned on by feeling up other women?” She asked
daringly. She wanted to ask about the policewoman’s mother’s
marital status at the time of her conception but she
controlled the impulse. Sarcasm was a defense caused by the
feeling of mild terror that Roseshannon experienced as a
result of the cop’s animosity. She had very little
experience in dealing with disapproval.

Taking the comment as a suggestion, the female cop began to
rub her hands over the protruding, rounded ass cheeks. She
also rubbed around her hips and the tops of her thighs and
finally she came back to delve deeply between the prominent
ass cheeks, noticing the rapid increase in breathing.
Moving her hands to just above the knees, she forced the
legs apart and pulled them back from the car causing
Roseshannon to be leaning with her back nearly level, her
ass jutting out enticingly. Shirley squatted slightly to
bring her prominent pelvic mound up under the jutting ass
cheeks and began to hump Roseshannon’s lovely buttocks so
fiercely that she was lifting the woman up with each thrust.
Roseshannon endured the ignominy of being butt fucked,
trying to control her rapid breathing even as she tried to
widen her stance to increase the contact against her pussy.
Her excitement was evident as she let the policewoman have
her way with her.

“If you were wearing a skirt I could just flip it up and
really do your ass good. You really like having your butt
bumped by a strong woman, don’t you? Squat down a little so
I can bump your big pussy. Yeah, that’s a good girl. Maybe I
should spank you for not wearing a skirt?”

The suggestion electrified Roseshannon who had trouble
recognizing her rising desire, certainly incapable of
admitting the pulsating feelings caused by such a depraved
notion. “No, please don’t. I’m afraid you would hurt me, you
are much too strong.” She declared immediately, and then
relented, “but if you want to punish me for wearing pants,
there’s not much I could do to stop you.”

The policewoman had just been playing with the woman, seeing
how far she could go without committing a criminal act
herself. This last comment seemed to open a plethora of
doors. Holding her with her left hand at the front of her
slacks, she brought her right hand crashing against the
gorgeously rounded behind of the recalcitrant Roseshannon.
There was no reaction of outrage as the policewoman
expected. With but a whimper of protest, she stood perfectly
still waiting for the next blow to fall.
Roseshannon’s eyes were clenched shut and she hoped a
submissive attitude would ingratiate herself with this
aggressive woman and diffuse her hostility. But the lady cop
was only encouraged to really vent her frustrations on the
lust-inspiring, suddenly vulnerable ass. She slapped the
unresisting ass several more times. Roseshannon thought with
some self-disgust that she was doing everything but coo at
the woman who was severely abusing her buttocks.

“Your slacks are much too thick,” the lady cop hissed,
“lower them to your thighs.”

“Someone might see.” Roseshannon protested weakly. “You are
already hurting me enough for whatever reason you’re doing
this.”

“The road is deserted. Drop `em!” With tears of shame and
abject confusion as to why she was tolerating this
unwarranted treatment, Roseshannon unsnapped her slacks,
slid down the zipper and arranged them around her thighs.
Holding them in place with a widened stance, she leaned her
hands back against the car. Deep within, she knew why she
was accepting this degradation; she experienced an
absolutely unexpected thrill to be treated like a naughty
child. She squirmed in pleasure to have her ass bared and
punished, but she struggled to deny it in her mind. For the
first time in her life she felt sexual arousal, so much so
she could hardly breathe.

“And where are your panties? You disgusting little slut!
Did you think I wanted to touch your nasty, naked ass with
my hand?”

“I didn’t even know I was going to get a spanking.”
Roseshannon replied meekly, her efforts to mollify this
aggressor causing her voice to assume the qualities of a
little girl.

Prompted by the woman’s bizarre acquiescence, the lady cop
rained a series of blows on the nude cheeks bereft of
protection. The slaps cracked like gunfire in the still
morning air, bringing forth a bright crimson to accent the
white creamy roundness. Roseshannon endured the fiery pain
by concentrating on her pussy that was teeming with hot
juices. Surely the woman would feel the wetness. Surely it
was splattering when Shirley struck a low blow.

“Please stop. I can’t take any more.” Roseshannon cried as
she dropped to her knees to move her ass away from any
further punishment. The policewoman halted her hand in mid-
swing and brought it to the back of the neck of the kneeling
woman. She stepped forward pushing her hips as Roseshannon
turned her face to meet the thrusting pelvis. The hand at
her neck snuggled her face up against the crouch of the
police pants. Amazed at her rising passion, she could not
keep her tongue from reaching out to caress the rough
fabric. Roseshannon struggled to shut her mind off what she
was doing and concentrated completely on what she was
feeling.

“Now see what you’ve done by not wearing your panties?
Press in closer and feel how wet you’ve made it.”

Roseshannon complied, inhaling deeply the pungent aroma and
using her tongue to taste the exhilarating dampness. “Are
you going to make me suck it?” She looked up in wonder at
the trooper, unable to conceal the sound of hopeful request
in her voice.

“I will if you can stop licking long enough for me to get my
pants down.”

“And your panties, too? I will suck your bare police pussy
so you will see what a good girl I am and that I don’t need
any more spanking.” Roseshannon withdrew slightly to give
the woman room to undo her belt and zipper and push her
pants down to mid-thigh, quickly followed by her white satin
panties. Quickened by the sight of the risqu panties,
Roseshannon did manage to chide, “Oh, I doubt if these are
police issue.” Her undeniable arousal forced her to lower
her face to lick the wet crouch of the panties that were
stretched between the full thighs.

“I wear `em just in case I come across any queer women who
can’t control their urge to suck on a panty.”

Her mouth moved up to engulf and suck on the exposed,
swollen cunt-lips, to caress the clitoris, and cause it to
expand into her voracious, heated oral orifice. Roseshannon
clung to the belief that she was not sucking the woman’s
cunt because she was a queer woman, but was forced to do it
to avoid any further pain on her blistered backside.

“Ohhh, you do that so well.” Shirley gasped. Roseshannon’s
hands had pulled the outer lips apart and she was fluttering
her tongue across the clit and inner lips as though painting
them with her saliva. Then she would stiffen her tongue and
pump it in and out of the woman’s fuck hole. “Your pimp must
be female. Does she let you have a little pussy only when
you sell your ass successfully? I bet she’s the one who
taught you to enjoy a spanking, heh?”

“I didn’t enjoy any spanking, you beat me for your own
satisfaction.” Roseshannon interrupted her lingual caresses
long enough to claim.

Suddenly the policewoman’s pussy began to convulse and
copious quantities of pussy juice erupted into Roseshannon’s
mouth. She was aghast that she was letting the woman cum in
her mouth but she could not stop slurping up the heady girl
juice. The eruption inundated her senses and caused an
equally violent, empathetic spasm in her own pussy as she
sucked the juices greedily.  Inexplicably, she thrust her
hot tongue in deeper in a compulsive search for more.
Mercifully, Roseshannon’s mind went blank to blot out the
guilt, allowing her to bask in the exhilaration she felt at
being used so abjectly.

“That was fantastic. You’re such a nasty slut I’m going to
stop you every time I see you and next time you better be
wearing a skirt and a pretty pair of panties or you will be
treated much worse, especially if I have to piss.” The lady
cop said as she straightened her uniform, returned to her
cruiser, and sped away.

Although she had participated in sex before, that strange
event was the only time she had ever experienced anything
sexual and Roseshannon never recovered from the things she
had to admit about herself. Her abject, all-consuming
surrender and the absolutely mind shattering orgasms left
her with grievous doubt about all the things she had valued
in life. Back home, even her relations with her domestic
help were altered, causing her to become less demanding and
more tolerant of their shortcomings.

Her housekeeper especially benefited from this more relaxed
attitude. However, as nature abhors a vacuum, Helga’s
naturally dominant attitude expanded in inverse proportion
to Roseshannon’s retrenchment. She had always enjoyed
spanking Janet and Denise, the cleaning girls and had even
abused the cook, Florence, on occasion when the infraction
could be made to seem serious enough; but these acts had
always been surreptitious without the knowledge or consent
of her employers. As Roseshannon retreated from her role as
head of the household, Helga became more open with her
administrations of discipline. Many a breast was pinched
severely and bottom was smacked soundly as Helga went about
intently consolidating the malevolent expansion of her
power. Helga began to grow to fit the role she seemed
destined to fill by virtue of her awesome physical
attributes. She began to exude an aura of authority and a
commanding attitude that preempted everything except
submission to her.

With the sudden exposure of her own sexuality, Roseshannon
realized that her former absence of lust was primarily
responsible for her success in life. Instead of being used
and used up in her burning need to belong to some high
school boy, she had been able to methodically plot a
campaign to snare a man of wealth and acquire a life of
leisure. She had experienced the same neutral response to a
rich man as she had with some guy working for wages.

Of course she had to spend a lot of time maintaining the
luscious curves of her trophy wife body but she had the time
to spend and a gym equipped with every essential.  Naturally
she had been extremely well endowed to begin with but she
had improved her physical appearance to a much higher level.
If she had not married well, but still managed her rigorous
regimen of diet and exercise, she could have easily become
wealthy posing for centerfolds with her hugely thrusting
breasts, narrow waist, taut washboard abs, lushly curving
hips and long, sleekly toned legs; legs that could stop
traffic for miles in a miniskirt.

The change in attitude that resulted from her subjugation to
the female cop even affected Roseshannon’s relation to her
daughter, which had never been much. Roseshannon had assumed
that a child would bring some feeling of fulfillment when
she first began to realize the emptiness of her life but
such a consequence for her was by no means automatic.
Maternal fulfillment depended on love for the child and
Roseshannon could no more love Zeta than she could love
Zeta’s father. The little discipline that Roseshannon had
bothered to instill in her daughter began to dissipate
because her confidence had been submerged in such a sea of
self-doubt. After Shirley, she felt unqualified to direct
her own life, much less anyone else’s.

Zeta reacted to the vacuum in much the same way as Helga and
the absence of maternal restraint gave her license to
explore any avenue deemed of interest. She was at a point in
life when her hormones raged relentlessly and she began to
seek relief by emulating Helga in her treatment of the
cleaning girls, but more interested in forcing them to be
sexual objects than physically abusing them. When one would
come in to wake her in the mornings, she would grab the
girl’s breasts and try to get her hand under her short skirt
and into her panties. Both of the servant girls quickly
learned that her temper was vastly improved if they allowed
the girl a few liberties every morning. Both Janet and
Denise adopted the habit of lowering their panties to mid-
thigh before waking her, then standing passively while the
girl amused herself under their skirts.

Zeta did not attend school, she had a private tutor, Ms
Preston, who was so straight-laced and uptight that she went
to the bathroom to fart. Zeta loved to torment her.
Although her face was attractive, she dressed in loose
fitting clothes that made her seem gaunt and bereft of
sexual appeal.

“Zeta, stop that!  I don’t know what’s gotten into you
lately but you do not seem to be able to keep your hands to
yourself. It is much too often to be accidental and, if this
behavior does not cease, I will be forced to confront your
mother.” The tutor threatened one day when Zeta had induced
her to bend over to review a paragraph and then grabbed a
breast in each hand. She buried her face between the woman’s
surprisingly ample breasts, trying to insinuate her tongue
into the cleavage. Ms Preston fumed and fussed as Zeta
wrapped her arm around her girdled waist and brought her
other hand up under Ms Preston’s skirt.

“Go ahead, I doubt if she gives any more of a shit than I
do.” Zeta replied confidently as she began to squeeze the
woman’s thighs above her stocking tops. The calm self
assurance of the girl gave the tutor pause. Although
painfully embarrassed to be fondled this way by a young
girl, she could not quite summon the resolve to put an end
to it. Instead she made a small effort to resist the
restraining arm around her waist and managed to part her
legs more and squat down slightly, unconsciously urging the
small hand upward towards her passion starved pussy.

The girl read the signs like an experienced seductress and
worked her hand slowly up the woman’s thighs until Ms
Preston abandoned the appearance of resistance and stood
passively, bearing all and barely able to breathe. The
girdle ended at the tops of her thighs and had no crotch.
Ms Preston almost swooned when the girl’s fingers finally
reached her pussy covered only by a thin panty.

After working her pussy a while with the woman wildly
humping against her hand, Zeta said, “Maybe I’ll have to
tell Mother about you letting me play with your pussy.”

“Oh, no, Zeta, this must always be our little secret.  You
like secrets, don’t you?”

“Yes, but this is not much of a secret, just my hand up your
dress.”

“We could do more and make it a real secret. If you cross
your heart and promise never to breathe it to a living soul,
I’ll even rub your little pussy for you.”

“All right. Let me up on the desk and you sit in the chair.”
Zeta agreed as she stood and turned to rest her ass on the
edge of the desk, leading the woman to the chair with her
hand on her waist.

“Do you promise?” Ms Preston demanded as Zeta widened her
thighs and lifted her skirt to the top of her panties.

“Take my panties off and I will cross my heart and hope to
die.” She said as Ms Preston’s eyes were riveted to her
soaking wet crotch. The passive woman had transformed into
eager aggressiveness as Zeta lifted her hips enough for her
to pull the panties down and off her legs. “Why don’t you
kiss it for me then we’ll have a real secret that can never
be revealed?”

Her mounting desire allowed the woman to conclude that she
had gone too far to leave herself any options as she eagerly
bent forward and tentatively licked the little cunt slit.
“You need to get your tongue inside. Let me put my thighs
over your shoulders.” After that adjustment, Ms Preston had
nothing but pussy in her vision and nothing but cunt on her
mind. She placed her hands under the firm ass and lifted the
little girl’s pussy to her ravenous mouth and sucked it
until Zeta screamed in mounting orgasms.  When the girl lay
back on the desk and pulled her legs up to her chest, Ms
Preston could not keep her tongue out of the young asshole
presented to her.

“Lift your dress and take off your girdle.” Zeta commanded
when the woman stopped sucking her ass and lay back against
the chair, exhausted. Simply obeying the young tyrant seemed
by far the most rewarding policy so she complied.  When the
girdle was worked off along with her panties, Zeta grabbed
the dress at the top of her ass to keep it from falling back
into place and then nudged the woman around to lean over the
desk. “You really need a spanking for your behavior today.
Sucking a little girl’s pussy and then reaming her asshole.
Do you want me to call my mother in to do it, or Helga, or
do you want me to?”

>From her prone and vulnerable position, the woman realized
the extent to which she had placed herself in the little
girl’s power. Zeta was not asking her anything, she was
telling her what she was going to do to her. Ms Preston had
never had a spanking in her life that she could remember,
certainly not one with such rampantly sexual overtones.  She
clenched her buttocks together, steeling herself for
unimaginable pain and mumbled for the girl to do it if it
had to be done.

Zeta began to spank the lovely curved buttocks and Ms
Preston felt minor pain that was nothing compared to the
stupendous re-ignition of her burning desires that matched
the flaming crimson of her ass. “If you ever try to suck my
pussy again, and you will, this is what you’ll get.” Ms
Preston clenched her thighs together savagely in
anticipation of all the spankings she was going to receive
at the hands of this little girl.

Ms Preston knew by committing these acts she would be
powerless to resist their repetition, this little tyrant
would use her like this any time she wanted. In the
twinkling of an eye, she was reduced from a professional
teacher to an avid cuntsucker and she embraced the change
with uninhibited enthusiasm. Most of their school time was
spent with Ms Preston trying to get the girl’s skirts up to
get at her pussy.

Helga closely observed Roseshannon’s changing personality,
how she deferred to her daughter, ignored the house, and,
most of all, the way she constantly devoured the buxom
housekeeper’s breasts regardless of her mood. To see how far
she could push the woman, Helga affected very low cut
blouses with no brassier. This was a major transformation in
Helga who, since puberty, had always been overly conscious
of her monstrous breasts and had taken utmost care to keep
them as covered and immobile as possible. Roseshannon
reacted more appreciatively than Helga had hoped and took
every opportunity to sit beside her and lean into her huge
mammaries. Helga began the welcome practice of bringing a
warmed liqueur to Roseshannon at night to help her sleep.
Then the housekeeper began to lie down in bed with her and
comfort her by letting her gratefully snuggle her head
against her giant bosom. One night she first bared her
breasts by stretching down the bodice of her nightgown
before lying down. This thrilled Roseshannon unbearably
while she squirmed in anticipation and struggled to appear
casual, as though nothing was unusual about the rearranged
nightgown. She tried to appear unaware of the voluptuous
mounds.

Then, inevitably, her mouth found a large, tumescent nipple
and she surrendered all pretense and sucked like a starving
child. Eventually Roseshannon became highly addicted to
sucking herself to sleep every night on the housekeeper’s
large tits. Helga would stay with her a long time after she
was asleep, stimulating her pussy manually and causing her
to mumble startling revelations in her sleep.

One day Roseshannon, feeling neglectful of Zeta, bought an
expensive bottle of perfume that she thought the girl would
want but was, for some unexplained reason, not satisfactory
and the girl had hurled the bottle against the wall. An
explosion of rage had engulfed the mother and she lashed out
with her hand and smacked the daughter’s trim bottom through
the thin layer of her baby doll pajamas. Zeta had become
completely inconsolable and retreated to her room for
several hours, intent upon escalating this conflict into an
all out battle of wills, a battle she was determined to win.
Helga seized the opportunity to secretly visit the girl and
further encourage her rebellious spirit.

When Zeta did not come downstairs, Roseshannon began to feel
very uncomfortable. There were feelings of remorse for
striking the child, but she imagined feelings of hatred
emanating from the silent door of her daughter’s room. And
she had still managed to construct no psychological means of
dealing with the disapproval of others. She softly entered
the room with an attitude of abject apology. She found Zeta
laying across her bed, still in her baby dolls.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper but that perfume was very
expensive, I could have returned it.” Roseshannon explained
in hopes of reconciliation.

“You not only lost your temper, you spanked me! I am
thirteen years old!”

“It was only one little swat. Surely it did not hurt that
much.”

“How would you know what it feels like to be beaten like a
disobedient dog?” The daughter demanded, her teeth gnashing
in anger. She reached back and slid down the panties of her
baby dolls, “Look what you did to me!” She exhorted, as she
revealed a faint tinge of pink in the shape of a handprint.
Helga had applied a touch of rouge in the proper shape in a
conspiracy far beyond Zeta’s grasp. Helga had learned from
the mother’s late night verbal emissions that some bit of
aggressive violence by another female had been responsible
for the sudden change in her. The housekeeper was
surreptitiously searching for ways to further diminish the
mother’s confidence. She wanted to fully explore the strange
way the mother deferred to her daughter.

“Oh, Honey, I’m so sorry. What can I do to make it up to
you?” the mother asked, distraught by the evidence of her
rage but strangely aroused by the sight of the firm young
bottom that Zeta purposely left on display. Not that she was
aware of any unique quirks in her mother, she simply wanted
to reinforce the extent of the crime by continuing to
display the carefully constructed evidence.

“There is nothing you can do,” Zeta sneered and then decided
to try the outlandish  suggestion of the wily housekeeper,
“unless you will let me do the same thing to you to show you
how it feels”

The bizarre image invoked by the suggestion created sudden
and unbearable feelings of arousal in the pit of
Roseshannon’s stomach and exploded into the depths of her
increasingly lubricating pussy. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she
objected, hoping to diffuse the exciting proposal, “a mother
does not allow herself to be spanked by her daughter.”

“Fine, then. Just get out of my room.” Zeta certainly had
not expected the suggestion to work although she was
painfully disappointed, having allowed herself to fantasize
about spanking her mother. She had even imagined forcing her
mother to take down her shorts and panties. She would
graciously allow her to keep her clothes on, just lowered to
where she could see the luscious posterior that she had
lusted after ever since her hormones had begun exploding and
especially since her mother had begun to exhibit submissive
tendencies and to withdraw her efforts to control her
daughter.

As Roseshannon struggled to deny her raging arousal and
force herself to turn and leave, Helga strolled into the
room carrying a Polaroid camera. “What are you doing here?”
She asked, puzzled by Helga’s involvement.

“She’s going to take a picture to show my father what you’ve
done.” Zeta replied with a smirk at the implied threat.
Roseshannon forgot her suspicions concerning Helga’s
involvement as she suddenly realized a way she could indulge
in this exhilarating, depraved idea. She had no regard for
the silly threat since her actions could be easily justified
to Robert. However, she could pretend to fear the threat to
conceal her own eagerness to submit to her daughter’s
demands, a daughter whose naturally dominant attitude had
somehow endowed her with the proportions and dimensions of a
female officer of the law!

“Why don’t you go ahead and let her do it?” Helga suggested
as she moved close to her employer, brushing against her arm
with her huge breasts. “Surely a woman with your well-padded
posterior can absorb a swat or two from such a little slip
of a girl and you don’t want to risk upsetting Robert, do
you?” Helga leaned into the woman and pushed her large
breasts almost into her face, “Perhaps I can offer you a
little comfort when it’s over.”

With the additional promise of Helga’s large breasts,
Roseshannon surrendered to the lusts that rampaged her even
though she left the impression she was yielding to the tacit
threat of her daughter and the brilliant logic of the
housekeeper. She walked hesitantly over to her daughter and
laid down on the bed beside her.

“Not with your shorts on. That really would hurt me more
than it would you. You spanked me when I was virtually naked
with just my thin baby dolls.”

“Let me take them down for you.” Helga  intervened. “Raise
up your hips a little.” When Roseshannon complied, Helga
reached around her waist, undid the shorts, and yanked them
down to mid-thigh along with her lacy panties, although
everyone pretended not to notice the incongruity, the
panties being much thinner than the daughter’s baby dolls.
Both the mother and the daughter were breathing heavily in
anticipation of this intoxicating act. Helga was only
aroused by the prospect of crushing the remaining confidence
of the mother and driving her further into introspection and
withdrawal.

Roseshannon trembled when Zeta excitedly sat up in bed and
placed her hand on her naked ass. Realizing that her mother
actually had only one swat coming, Zeta wanted to prolong
it. Although she expected her mother to angrily demand that
she get this charade over with, the woman just lay on the
bed in silent submission, moving nothing but her luscious
ass which pressed slightly upward against the daughter’s
hand. Zeta’s third finger curled downward exploring
tentatively the sensuous crack only to see her mother’s back
arch slightly, raising her ass, causing the cheeks to spread
a little more to accept the invasion. Unconsciously Zeta
rotated her wrist fractionally and the finger felt the heat
emanating from her mother’s tight rosebud. Such open
acceptance confounded Zeta who hardly dared to hope her
mother actually wanted a spanking. That very thought sent
titillating thrills raging through her as she could not
imagine a more appropriate way to achieve dominance over
this woman, the only authority figure she had ever known.
Expecting her to jerk away in outrage, she pressed her
finger more firmly against the hole only to hear a gasp of
pleasant surprise and more arching upward of the buttocks.
Now certain that her mother wanted to be finger-fucked in
the ass, Zeta began to feel quite confident that her mother
would submit to far more than a perfunctory whack on the
proffered posterior.

“Go for it, Girl!” Helga exclaimed, “She wants it and when
you get through, I want to give her a few over my knee to
pay her back for all the times she’s made my life hell with
her bossy, insatiable demands.”

With such prompting, Zeta commenced slapping her mother’s
ass with all her little girl might, raining blows which were
absorbed without protest. Although aware that allowing the
spanking to continue was exposing her complicity,
Roseshannon was unable to halt the delirious joy brought on
by her submission to her dominant daughter. The hand was
small but very determined and Roseshannon could not suppress
mighty groans of pain/pleasure that were slapped out of her.
She was helpless to do anything but lift her ass to invite
the next blow.

Zeta’s left hand reached over her mother’s back, wrapped
around her trim waist and under her flat stomach, pulling up
to indicate she wanted her mother to raise up on her knees.
Roseshannon pulled her knees up under her as the hail of
smacks was interrupted only temporarily. The hand under her
waist moved down a little more and the fingers began to
strum through the bushy curls of her pussy. Then Roseshannon
was unable to resist moving slightly forward to bring the
strumming fingers to bear directly against her throbbing
cunt. Zeta stopped strumming and pressed her little and ring
fingers up into the lips that yawed wetly to welcome them as
Roseshannon widened her knees and sobbed in lascivious
rapture. Zeta began seriously working her fingers in and out
of her mother’s pussy, finger-fucking her at a rapidly
increasing rate.

Helga moved to the side of the bed and joined in, swinging
with her left hand upon the beautiful, exposed ass. The
housekeeper staked her claim on the mother’s right cheek,
forcing the daughter to confine herself to the left. Helga
used her right hand to press down upon her employer’s neck
to discourage any movement.

After a while, Zeta’s arousal reached a point beyond denial.
Without thinking any further, she pushed her baby doll
panties down and off, swung her right leg over her mother’s
back and rubbed her dripping little girl pussy against her
mother’s rib cage in search of some relief for her consuming
desires. The warm wetness of the precious pussy immediately
magnified Roseshannon’s arousal until she could resist no
longer. She twisted her neck out from under Helga’s grasping
hand and turned herself around to bury her face in her
daughter’s delightful little slit with its lips already
parted in welcome invitation.  With her raised ass now
sideways on the bed, Helga stepped over to where she could
use her right hand to continue the brutal assault that only
accelerated the mother’s fiery level of desire.

“That’s right, Miz Roseshannon, suck on your little girl’s
pussy while I blister your ass just like you deserve, you
heartless, haughty bitch.” Roseshannon could do naught but
comply as she slurped up the prodigious juices, forcing her
face deeper between the lips, pushing her tongue far up into
the receptive, baby pussy. Roseshannon had only one
experience sucking pussy but her mouth intrinsically knew
what to do to bring her daughter to one peak after another,
from orgasm to overwhelming orgasm.

Finally exhausted and sated, Zeta pulled her pussy away from
her mother’s mouth. Seeing this, Helga left off with the
spanking, grabbed the mother’s hair with her left hand while
raising her skirt with her right and forced the beautiful
face around to kiss her own aroused cunt through her white
cotton panties. Roseshannon’s mouth disregarded the
difference and sucked with the same enthusiasm while she
reached for the waistband of the housekeeper panties to drag
them down and out of the way of her searching tongue.

“Oh. That’s good! We need to wean you off the little baby
pussy and get you used to a big ole nasty cunt, something
you can really get your face in. There’s where it’ll be from
now on. No, don’t look up at me, just pay attention to the
cunt you’re sucking or I’ll take a belt and flay your
beautiful ass.”

Betrayed by her inexplicable needs and gnarled appetites,
Roseshannon sucked the large pussy to her heart’s content.
Knowing that she was surrendering all her pride and all her
power to her exploitative housekeeper and domineering
daughter, she was helpless to do anything to prevent it.
She could do nothing but follow her own suddenly discovered
carnal urges as she slid down off the bed onto her knees
without losing contact with the cunt that now controlled
her. As a consequence of her complete capitulation, her life
was now anything but empty.