not to be late, or I’d miss the show. Oh, well. Here it is. Hmmmmmm.

Nice neighborhood. Nice place.

The sign says auditions! Oh, so that’s it. Auditions for dancers. Was

I supposed to try out? No way, Jose! My shape isn’t going to get me on

stage! I see somebody waiting outside … I approach him … correctly

guessing this is my date.

We go inside, and he whispers something to the Hostess. She looks me

over and nods. Then we follow her to a table. She takes our order for

burgers and cokes. When she comes back, she gives me a 3×5 card with

the number 6 written on it. “Number 4″ a voice announces over the

microphone.

A young girl gets up from the table next to me, and gets on stage. She

is dressed in street clothes. She is nervous. The music starts. She

is getting undressed! Oooooo. Auditions. But she is not very good. I

can do better than that. She gets down to bra and panties, and she is

shaking. Real nervous. She takes her bra off, but can’t drop her arms

to show her tits. The music stops and she grabs her clothes. My date

is the only one that applauds her. Nice of him.

“Number 5.” That’s quick! And I’m number 6? My heart starts to pound.

…End of the part1. To be continued..

Jane met Rita at the door. Her fair skin was red from crying. When
she entered the rainy night, the tears were lost. Jane tossed a portion of
her yellow parka over Rita’s red hair. Rita just grabbed Jane around the
shoulder. They climbed the hill to the Mansion-the house were Ben lived.
The steps that ran along the driveway were narrow and difficult to
negotiate in the sunlight, much less on a rainy night. Lightning brightened
the scene for a moment, then thunder lashed the couple. They hurried until
they reached the gate.
“He dumped me for Trisha. She has bigger tits.” said Rita.
“It’ll be all right…”
Jane punched in the code and the gates opened, revealing the final
climb to the Hofsteader Mansion. It was a large, Victorian type structure
that had been added on to each successive generation of Hofsteader. Many of
…End of the part1. To be continued..

Archive-title: Early One Morning

AUTHOR’S DISCLAIMER:

(Unfortunately, this is NOT what the life of a computer

professional is like, at least in Research Triangle Park.

Anyone who knows of a place where systems consultants can

do this type of thing, please let me know.)

They had been working on the system for twenty-one straight

hours now. It was finally up and running; their client, a

large banking law firm, wanted the in-house system plugged into

a banking information network and a huge legal database. The

conversion had taken over four hundred thousand dollars worth

of hardware and software, in addition to three weeks of work,

and in the end Ryan thought that it would have been simpler

just to order every single piece of shit in the IBM catalog

that would fit inside the cabinet and load it onboard.

And now the computer was getting ready to entangle itself

into an international 24-hour database. The Brain would never

shut off again; now, it was going through a self-test,

getting ready to read market data, scan the newspapers, and

watch the local trouble spots in locations around the

world where the firm had clients. Its huge main monitor

was split into sixteen screens, one screen for each

communication controller operating in the building. Ryan

was trying to give each of them in turn something

approaching his immediate and undivided attention.

He was having trouble concentrating, however. His

software engineer, Kelly, was a sweet young thing just

out of MIT…young, blonde, beautiful, and brilliant.

She showed a decided preference for working in sweats,

and since the machine room was cooled to 68 Fahrenheit,

sweats were comfortable. But while she and Ryan

were hooking up the cabling on a replacement unit, and

now again as they crowded in front of the monitor to

watch The Brain do its sitting-up exercises, they had

been working in close quarters. And Ryan had found himself

meditatively studying the curves of her beautiful, firm

ass underneath her crimson sweatpants. Wondering what it

would be like to nibble on her neck, near her hairline,

with her on all fours…

With an effort, Ryan snapped out of this pleasant fantasy.

The console beeped, signalling the end of the self-test.

“Is it ready to connect now?” asked Kelly.

Oh boy, he thought, is it ever. He was so hard that he

was positively throbbing, and he knew that he would

have to find some kind of relief soon. Just go off in

a corner and jerk off two or three times.

“Well, let’s give it a try,” he said, struggling to control

his voice. He punched the key sequence, and The Brain

started activating its connections. Lights danced on

the modem consoles. Satellite linkups moved into place.

“Jesus, I think it works!” breathed Kelly. “I think it’s

really running!”

“I’ve got my fingers crossed.”

An error code flashed on one of the low screens. “Oh, shit,”

muttered Kelly. “Hand me the green manual, would you?”

Ryan looked around, hoping against hope that he would

see the green-cover book somewhere within his reach. To his

dismay, he found it: it was on a utility shelf about four

feet over.

He stood with as much dignity as he could muster, but

his stiff seven inches were standing at attention inside

his grey flannels. He retrieved the green manual, and walked

gingerly back to Kelly’s desk, willing her not to look up

at him.

To no avail. She looked up at him; her eyes widened, and

she gave a little gasp, as she saw the evidence of Ryan’s

arousal (and the source of his embarassment). Then she

quickly looked around to see if anyone else might have

come into the machine room (they hadn’t), and gripped

Ryan’s cock firmly, through his pants.

“You’ve been watching me tonight,” she said matter-of-

factly.

What could he say? “Yes.”

“And thinking dirty thoughts about me.”

“Yes.”

She smiled, unzipped his fly, and cupped his hot, swollen

balls in her cool hand. “Are you lonely, Ryan?” she asked.

Ryan was now concentrating very hard to keep from spraying

hot come all over her MIT sweatshirt. “Yes,” he half-

exhaled, half-moaned.

She rubbed the tip of his throbbing organ gently over her face,

and suddenly gave a little shudder. “Oh, God,” she said.

“This is for me. My boyfriend’s been away for MONTHS!

I need a man. I need to be fucked. I need you, Ryan. Now.”

She wriggled out of her sweatpants, exposing a gleaming,

moist patch of blond pubic hair; she stood, and kissed Ryan

deeply while fumbling with his belt. Ryan picked her up, and

sat her magnificent ass down on the table next to the system

console. He entered her still standing, and she locked her

long legs behind his back to support him as he thrusted

into her warm and welcoming wetness.

Her cunt was firm and tight and muscular, and her scent was

intoxicating. At the apex of each thrust, Kelly gripped Ryan

with her vaginal muscles and pulled him in tighter with her

legs. “Your cock was made for me, baby. Give it all to me.

Give me everything you got.”

They moved together in the simplest and most primitive rhythms.

His breaths were coming short and sharp now, and he tried

to fuck Kelly as hard as she was thrusting back. She could

feel him swelling even bigger inside of her. “Coming,” he

gasped. “Oh, God, come with me.”

Her eyes became very, very wide as she felt him swelling.

Her lips parted, and she felt like she was drifting weightlessly–

that the only two things in the universe were her tight young

pussy and his engorged cock. And they were moving together

faster and faster, and it was getting bigger, and she knew

that soon the spasm would come.

Ryan exploded inside her, in a hot, blinding

flash, like a supernova. Her muscles jerked rhythmically,

uncontrollably, over and over again as her orgasm washed over

her in blissful waves.

When they had rested a moment, and recovered their wind, they

glanced up at The Brain. Its lights danced merrily; it was

storing up and analyzing all the financial data on Southeast Asia

since the dawn of recorded history, just because it wanted to

and there was nothing else for it to do before the London

stock exchange opened.

“We should test it before we allow it to hook in this morning,”

Ryan said gently.

“The machine,” Kelly replied firmly, “can take care of itself.

You can take care of me.”

He then in turn, gave her his immediate and undivided attention.

End

–

dig best is getting laid or sucked off when there’s a chance of

getting caught or being seen. That’s when my dick is at its

hardest and my load is at its sweetest.

I’m an assistance manager at a local bank and one of our

tellers feels the same way I do. I’ll call her Joan so her

husband doesn’t find out. Joannie is tall and very attractive

with long slim legs and firm pointy breasts.

Last Friday, Joan was servicing the customers at the

drive-in window when she had to go to the ladies’ room. I was the

only other person in the bank so I took her place. An older woman

had just pulled up when I felt a hand slide between my legs and

grab my cock. It stiffened immediately.

“I want to suck you so bad,” she moaned in my ear.

Joan slid my cock around in my pants while I counted out the

old lady’s money. I was getting wetter and hornier by the

minute, and the instant the car drove away, I pushed Joannie to

her knees in front of me. We both fumbled with my zipper, and she

groaned as my steaming hot dick fell out. The shaft was hard as a

rock, and the swollen head was moist with pre-cum.

“I love your cock,” Joan sighed as she wiped the tip all

over her face, leaving white sticky traces.

I watched as she pulled back the foreskin, exposing the

swollen purple head. Her pick tongue flicked in and out of her

hot mouth, sending sparks up and down my spine as she caressed

and teased the rigid flesh.

I jerked my hips forward, trying to get my cock in her warm

mouth, but she pulled away.

“Not yet,” she said. Her hands grasped my balls and began

pulling as her tongue jumped along the swollen shaft. Joannie

kept licking and kissing my dick until I thought I was going to

die.

Suddenly I heard a car horn. Parked in front of the teller

window was a sharp looking blonde, who was not over 18, in a

short skirt.

That was the moment that Joannie clamped her mouth over the

head of my big dick and started sucking REAL hard!!

“You OK?” asked the blonde, giving me a beautiful smile.

I couldn’t believe what was going on. I was getting my hot

meat eaten inches away from a girl who didn’t know what the hell

was going on.

“Yeah,” I stammered, trying to count the money right. Who

wouldn’t be OK?

Joan was sliding my cock in and out of her hungry mouth, and

it was drenched with saliva. It isn’t easy counting while some-

one is chewing on your dick, and it took me three times before I

got it right.

Joan would run her tongue around the wet tip and then engulf

the staff, ramming it down her throat until I though I would grab

her. I’ve had blow jobs from Joannie before, but today she was at

her best.

Joan’s breathing was getting heavier and louder as she

swallowed my prick, and I knew that she was going to get a load

real soon.

“So where’s my money?” asked the teenage blonde.

Just as I passed the cash out, the girl shifted her legs

giving me a great view of her pink pussy. She wasn’t wearing any

undergarments.

That did it. With a moan from me, my 9 1/2″ dick started to

shot load after load. Joan felt it, because she began pumping my

shaft harder and sucking on the head like a vacuum cleaner.

Looking down, I watched her mouth slide up and down the cum-

stained shaft as she swallowed my load. Every drop went down that

eager throat as she slurped and sucked every last drop.

The blonde was staring at me real funny , but my attention

was on Joan as she continued to lick until every tongue flick was

painful.

“Tell your friend I hope it was tasty,” the blonde said

before driving away.

“That was the biggest load you’ve ever shot,” Joan said,

giving the tip one last lick before tucking it back into my

pants.

We had to go back to our regular jobs after that, but when

work was finished, I spread Joannie out on the back seat of my

car and ate her pussy until she begged me to shop.

So, the next time you go to a bank drive-in window, you

might know why the teller is smiling.

—

He’d mentioned he’d seen the psychologist who’d given him some relaxation
and meditation exercises to follow, and they had seemed to help. But he’d
never mentioned seeing another doctor, and a young woman at that, from her
voice.

Now, the doctor wanted to see her next week at 4:30 during John’s “session”
whatever that was all about, and talk with her about helping John with his
problems.

Dr. Whetmore had said not to say anything to John about their conversation
or next week’s visit, which had seemed strange, but then she didn’t want
John upset. She had assured Ann there was nothing to worry about, but she
felt Ann could really help John with his problems and help him on the road
to recovery. She’d said she’d seen this in lots of young executives who
were under terrible strain to produce as they moved up in their careers.

John was the Director of Public Relations for the Centre and had just taken
over this position from his predecessor about a year ago. It was just about
6 months ago that John had started getting these headaches and stomach
aches that had sent him to the Centre’s clinic.

About that time he’d come home and told Ann that he thought there was some
“funny business” going on with the way the clinic was run, but that he
needed more evidence before he told her more.

He was always such a straight arrow, and with the amount of government work
the Centre did, he felt it his duty to find out if there was something
going on that wasn’t right. He’d occasionally tell her things about some of
the research the clinic did, but since much of it was ‘hush hush’ he
couldn’t tell much except it involved some high tech “brainwashing” and
“mind control” stuff.

Much of the work the Centre for the Advancement of Psychology, or CAP as it
was called by the employees, did was just normal psychology research with
rats, and such or studying which colors had what affect on people, and
relaxation methods and techniques for stressed out executives or high
ranking government people.

It was a fast paced environment and there was a lot of stress, so CAP ran
its own private health clinic with a full range of services from general
medical to addiction rehab, to psychology and psychiatry.

John had gone to the clinic about 3 months ago and lately it seemed to have
helped. His stomach aches were far less freguent and his headaches seemed
to go away when he closed his eyes and just let himself relax. He seemed to
hum some silly mantra or something, kind of like a familiar lullabye, but
it seemed to help and he was in a much better mood, except when Ann brought
up the subject of starting a family.

With John at age 33 and she at age 30, she felt it was time, and she badly
wanted a baby before it was too late. She was surprised at how few of the
women she knew whose husbands worked at the clinic had children, but they
seemed to poo-poo it by saying “We have our pets, and careers, and besides
these silly men are just like children anyway.”

Many of the wives worked right at the Centre, and many of them worked in
the special daycare where workers and local townspeople received excellent
daycare and nursery care for their pre-schoolers, but Ann so far hadn’t
been interested in a “career”, especially with other people’s children and
babies.

the Visit and the Secret Revealed

The week had gone uneventfully, and John seemed much better. He’d been
sleeping so soundly, he’d wet his bed twice that week, but Ann didn’t have
the heart to scold him or make fun of him. He seemed embarrassed enough
when he woke up and had to change his bed and PJs.

He’d been listening to some tape or something the doctor had given him, but
all Ann could hear was music and nature sounds. It seemed very relaxing and
soothing, but Ann didn’t have time for that nonsense.

Finally, Friday afternoon at 4:25 Ann sat waiting for Dr. Whetmore, when
Dr. Rotman came out and invited her into his office to “talk” before they
went in to see John and his associate.

While they talked, Dr. Rotman explained that much of John’s problems were
due to the stress of his job, and this silly “investigation” he’d started,
and finally decided to drop. His pressure and the strain were making him a
little paranoid, seeing “bogey men everywhere” as Dr. Rotman explained it.

While the doctor was talking he kept playing with a small shiny ball on a
thin metal chain, kind of like a pendulum, and Ann was fascinated by it as
it swung back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, with a gentle,
steady rythm, and the soft click, click as it hit the other ball. She found
it hard to concentrate on what the doctor said at first, but then it seemed
so much easier, as she relaxed and just listened to him while she watched
the ball.

Finally, the doctor said “Let’s go see Dr. Whetmore and John, Ann so we can
find how to help John with is problems.”

Ann found herself rising and taking the doctor’s arm as they walked slowly
to the room at the end of the hall, and the doctor kept talking slowly and
softly to her reassuring her everything would be alright, just as long as
she accepted John’s problem and helped him to get over the stresses he was
feeling.

As they entered the room, Ann saw an attractive young woman sitting in a
chair beside a couch talking to a man who was lying on the couch with
headphones on and with a small tube going into his arm. He was covered with
a blanket up to his chest, and Ann could see his feet were bare and he was
fast asleep.

As Dr. Rotman introduced the woman, Ann learned she was Dr. Janet Whetmore,
a psychiatrist who dealt with special problems like John’s. Dr. Whetmore
talked softly to Ann for a while, and Ann began to really trust Dr.
Whetmore and to like her as though she were a long time friend and
confidante.

The two doctors exchanged knowing smiles, then Dr. Whetmore offered Ann a
glass of juice which she gratefully drank. After a few seconds she felt
very “alive” and “able to listen” to Dr. Whetmore and hung on her every
word.

Dr. Whetmore explained she was a psychiatrist who dealt with special
problems, called paraphilia. She explained these were fetishes or sexual
interests in objects or things, like feet, or clothing or a special time in
life. She explained many men wanted to dress up in women’s clothing, and
this was called transvestitism and the “love of womens’ clothing”. She
explained that a lot of men in important positions, like John’s, found the
stresses of everyday life caused them to want to escape into an easier
life, where they had no responsibilities, and a time when they were cared
for as babies.

These men wanted to wear baby clothing, and be dressed as babies,
especially in diapers and baby panties, and to wet their diapers like
little babies.

Unfortunately, their desires and their positions created further stresses
and conflicts and this sometimes made them sick, especially if there was
stress at home, or they were afraid their wife wouldn’t accept their
fetish. Then they could get really sick and have a breakdown.

Ann felt very sad, and sorry for these type of men. How could their wives
be so mean as to deny them this outlet for their stresses. The doctor had
…End of the part1. To be continued..

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I had been riding for some seven hours now, but wasn’t yet tired. The

sun had just started to draw the evening curtains, and there was a

faint hint of rain on the cooling twilight air. I was cruising along a

quiet back road in Sussex on my BMW K100.

I have been riding bikes since I was 16, that’s 24 years now. I

have always liked biking, and will do it for as long as I can. I’m not

a flash rider. My bike is silver and standard; and I wear jeans and a

black leather jacket. I like wearing jeans, they are comfortable and

offer a little more protection than trousers.

I was doing about 50 when I saw across the hedge a Day-Glow lemon

top and black trousers. Quick check, no speed O.K. as I’m outside the

limit, still be careful! After rounding a couple of bends the road

straightened out and I could see the figure some way ahead. I was

wrong, it wasn’t the law, just some youngster in a fluorescent top and

black track suit trousers. He was hitching as far as I could tell from

this distance, but I don’t pick up hitch-hikers. Still I was in a good

mood as the day had been good; and he was miles from anywhere on a

road with little traffic and he couldn’t cause me much trouble on the

back really. I slowed down and pulled up alongside him.

Hewas about 18 I assume, but it was difficult to tell. Dark hair

and deep brown eyes. He was about five feet eight and had an athletic

build.

“Can I give you a lift, there’s a spare helmet in the back box.”

“Thanks very much mate.”

“Where are you going?”

“About twelve miles along this road, well I live just a bit off

but if you drop me at the turning I can walk from there.”

“That’s O.K. I’ll go all the way.”

“Good, that would be super.”

“Have you ever back-ridden before?”

“No, well not on one of these.”

“Well just hold on tight and stick close behind me. Don’t try to

stay upright when I lean the bike, now climb up and when we are near

your turning tap me on the left or right shoulder and I will take the

next left or right turn.”

“O.K. you’re the gov.”

He climbed up and slid himself forward till he was close behind

me. Instead of holding the seat he put his arms round my waist; obvi-

ously not been a back-rider before. We started off, and gathered

speed. There are some people who find the vibration and motion of a

big bike rather stimulating, perhaps that’s why I like bikes, all that

power throbbing between my thighs. I think it must have affected him,

as he pressed harder into my back, and I was sure I could feel quite a

hard bulge pressing against my rear. A few more miles and I felt his

hands slip down from my waist to my hips, then slowly he moved his

hands down onto my cock. The inevitable happened and my cock began to

stir and rise. He didn’t take his hand away, but cupped my swelling

bulge. Suddenly I felt a tap on my left shoulder so I regained concen-

tration, slowed and turned left up a little lane. I saw a cottage in

the distance on the right and then felt a tap on my right shoulder. I

slowed and stopped at the entrance to the drive of the cottage. He

slid off the back and removed the helmet. He stood next to me and

asked “Would you like a coffee or something before you go. I’d like to

thank you. There’s nobody in, my parents are on holiday.”

…End of the part1. To be continued..

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bisexuality–using their time away at college as an opportunity to experiment or

to develop relationships to keep them safely satisfied. Not that I’d seen signs

of it: my campus wouldn’t be in the forefront of such trends, and most of all,

people tend to keep things like that from me.

It’s not just that I’m a straight-arrow: I seem to send out straight-arrow

signals to everyone I come in contact with. Somehow they look at me and just

*know* I’m not a person with which to engage in questionable practices. And it’s

ironic: yes I grew up in a conservative household, but inside, I’m not that

conservative at all.

And the idea of bisexuality intrigued me. The idea that some of the women I

lived with were quietly pairing off. Trying something new and different. And

most of all, I must admit, I did feel some attraction to women. I’d discovered

my attraction while watching some sexier scenes in movies (no, not X-rated

movies; just noticing the women in some of your plain-old R-rated heterosexual

love scenes). Once discovered, I’d realized some fashion models held that kind

of fascination for me, and eventually I admitted to myself that women I’d seen

and knew could affect me. Not that I’m not basically heterosexual, but I *did*

start thinking, and from all I heard, college is the time to give it a try.

What an idea! I mean, for me! I *am* a straight-arrow in many ways: never been

with a man if you know what I mean; date very little. Not really outgoing. And

here I was, contemplating the idea of actually finding and forming a relationship

with a woman! How would I do it? Ask someone I knew?

I couldn’t imagine it. Go to some obviously-Lesbian gathering? Like a bar?

That wasn’t what I was looking for. This was going to be hard. One way or

another, I was going to have to overcome my natural reserve, at some point. I

thought about all the women I knew. I thought about what sort of person I was

interested in. It would be nice if I found someone exactly like myself: a woman

who wasn’t outgoing and didn’t go out much, but on the inside, wasn’t as

conservative as she appeared. Someone who I could share the experience with, in

confidence.

And the problem was, how would two such less-than-outgoing people find each

other? Was I going to start finding quiet women and bring up the subject of a

Lesbian relationship? And though I *know* there must be other women similar to

myself, since I don’t talk to that many people, I’d be unlikely to discover them,

and even if I did, how would I make friends with someone as reserved as me?

I finally decided that finding and approaching another reserved woman just wasn’t

practical. I needed someone who would take the lead. Or someone to help me. Set

me up? Or at least someone sympathetic that I could talk about it to. Someone

nice, who was engaging in such a relationship.

I thought about the women I knew again. Who was most likely to be in such a

relationship? And again, with enough thought, I had my answer: Leslie Brown.

She was definitely outgoing. I’d once noticed her with a woman and wondered

about the two of them, but more than that, she had the right kind of personality

for this. She had that combination that I needed: someone who I could feel

comfortable talking to and someone who certainly would know what was going on.

All I needed was some unobtrusive way to bring up the subject with Leslie. After

more thought, I settled on trying to casually ask her if some other pair of women

were engaging in something. I started spending more time with her, actually

hanging on her a little, and eventually one day as we were walking back from

supper, I managed to comment on two women I’d seen together a bit.

“Rebecca and Janet?” she responded. She looked at me for a couple of seconds as

we walked, not saying anything more.

Finally I had to fill the silence. “I just wondered.”

I glanced at her. She was eyeing me sidelong as we walked and she was smiling.

…End of the part1. To be continued..

I should pause, here to tell you a little about Jan. She is Vice
President of Sales with a medium size electronics manufacturer in
the midwest. She is respected by everyone who deals with her as a
tough but fair executive who knows her business and manages people
very effectively. Her sales force calls her “The Iron Lady” but not
in her presence. It is obvious the first time you meet her that she
is a beautiful woman who could easily have become a top paid model
or actress but in her role as a business woman, she tones the
beauty down to “attractive” by her dress, demeanor and sparing use
of makeup. She wears very conservative business suits, doesn’t
smoke and drinks only a little wine on social occasions. Jan is
thirty-six, but most people believe she is only in her late
twenties. Those who know her a little better are aware of the fact
that she has been divorced for about three years from a man who
tried for five to deal with her strong personality but finally
admitted defeat and went to live with a woman almost ten years his
junior and seems to be ecstatically happy, now. Jan has seen three
men off and on, since her divorce but is “too busy” to think about
a long term relationship. Her only close female friend is Donna,
whom she has known since college and whom she trusts with her
deepest, darkest secrets. In fact, Donna is one of the few people
in the world who know about Jan’s “other life”, the one that
prompted her to insist that Jan talk with Dr. Stevens.

Six months ago, Jan was on a business trip to Boston when she met a
man in the hotel bar and found her self talking with him for hours.
Dan was unlike anyone she had ever known. From the first, she was
fascinated by his quiet manner and soft speech and the
contradiction represented by the “fire” she saw in his eyes. He
made no attempt to pick her up or hit on her. In fact, she was the
one who kept the conversation going and she began to realize that
she would have to say “goodnight” to this fascinating man and might
never see him again. That prospect made her sad and she resolved
not to let it happen. When it was time for her to return to her
room, she initiated an exchange of phone numbers and said she hoped
they could get together on her next trip to Boston. He smiled as
they parted and kissed her very softly on the cheek (somehow, she
had hoped for more).

The next trip was only two weeks later. She told herself that it
was important that she follow up with the new potential customer
right away but deep inside she knew that the Northeast Regional
Sales Manager was the best in the company and could easily handle
things at this early stage of negotiations. She had never before
arranged a business trip for personal reasons and refused to admit
to herself that she was doing so now. Dan picked her up at her
hotel and they talked of nothing in particular as he drove her to a
small French restaurant. Over dinner, she found herself drifting
away from the conversation several times as she tried to gain an
understanding of what she was seeing and feeling in his eyes. Over
coffee, she told him that she really didn’t want the lovely evening
to end (hoping he would take the hint). He said, “We could stop by
my place for a nightcap, if you like.” She had to restrain herself
from blurting out “Oh, Yes!” and said, demurely, “I think that
might be very nice.” Dan looked at her for several moments, then
took her hand gently into both of his. It was like an electric
shock and she only half heard him say, “But, there is something I
think you need to know…” When he knew that his words had reached
her brain, he continued, “I am a very strong willed man and I
require my lovers to place themselves completely under my control.
If you don’t feel comfortable with that, perhaps it would be better
if we had our nightcap at the bar in your hotel.”

Jan only partly understood the meaning of his words, but she knew,
without question, that she had to be alone with him and the sooner,
the better. Her mouth was dry as she nodded slightly and replied,
“I’d really prefer your place.” They talked a little as they drove
to his house but Jan’s mind was filled with questions. She really
didn’t know Dan very well and had surprised herself by saying she
would go with him. She had a strong sense that she could trust him
and needed desperately to be in his arms and feel his body pressing
against hers.

It was a fairly large, old house on a quiet residential street and
it was obviously well cared for. Even in the dark, she could see
that the lawn was well manicured and dotted with big, old oak
trees. He parked the car in the drive and came around to open her
door. He took her hand lightly as they walked up the front steps.
He unlocked the door and reached in to turn on the hall light
before allowing her to enter. When they were in, he closed and
relocked the door then, escorted her to a very modern looking great
room. It was clear that someone had remodeled the old house
extensively and the great room had probably once been a living room
and dining room. She turned and offered herself for the kiss that
she fully expected. He took her (so gently) into his arms and their
lips met. Almost immediately, their tongues were teasing each other
and she felt a great welling up of need and desire. Too soon, he
broke the kiss and stepped back slightly, holding her hands in his.

“As I told you,” he began, “I will expect you to do exactly as I
ask. If, at any time, you want to stop, you must say ‘That’s
enough’. When you say those words, our time together will be at an
end and I will take you back to your hotel. Do you understand?” She
was shaken by the stern tone of his voice and the seriousness of
his words, but she nodded. Jan was beginning to understand that she
was to be submissive to his wishes and she found herself both
frightened and excited by the situation. “After all”, she
reassured herself, “I can stop it any time I want.” It never
occurred to her that she would soon lack any desire for her time
with Dan to end.

“First, I want you to remove your pantyhose and panties.”, he
directed. She started to protest, but he held up his hand. There
was no mistaking the meaning of his gesture and she found herself
standing before him taking off her shoes, followed by her
undergarments as he had instructed. She looked around for someplace
to put the items she had just taken off but there was nothing
within reach so she just dropped them at her side. “Now, kneel down
and open my pants.”, he said quietly. Her skirt was short enough
that when she knelt, she could feel the soft carpet against her
knees, and she reached forward to loosten his belt and unzip his
fly. She was moving as if in a dream, now, and lowered his pants
and briefs to the floor. His semi-hard cock hung between his legs
and she was impressed with its size and shape and wanted to touch
it but wasn’t sure if she was supposed to wait for instructions, so
she did nothing. Dan kicked off his shoes, pulled his socks free
and pushed the pile of clothing aside with his foot. He removed the
rest of his clothes in silence as she knelt motionless before him.
When he was completely undressed, he said, “Show me how you suck
cock.” The words stung her. “Why does he have to be so direct?”,
she wondered and looked up into his eyes. He smiled and said,
“Remember, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Using both hands, she guided the head of his penis between her lips
and began to lick it with her tongue. She was so aroused that she
could feel her juices beginning to leak from her vagina and run
down the inside of her thighs.

This is essentially the story she told Dr. Stevens on her second
visit. The first visit had been spent getting to know one another
a little and learning to feel comfortable in the doctor’s office.
The second time, Dr. Stevens had said, almost immediately, “Tell me
about why you decided to see me.” Jan really didn’t know how to
begin so she just started talking about how she had met Dan and
ended up becoming his “slave” and how “out of character” it was for
her to behave this way but she didn’t want to stop. Dr. Stevens
rested her chin on her fingers as she listened to Jan’s story and
when Jan had paused, reflecting on the scene she was describing,
the doctor asked, “How did you feel when he was in your mouth?” “I
wanted to taste his sperm.”, Jan blurted out, then said, “I’m.. I’m
sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” The doctor leaned forward to
touch her hand and said, “Of course you should. If that’s how you
felt. I need to know your feelings and I don’t want you to hold
back because you think you may shock me.”

After a short pause, Jan went on. “It was really weird. Dan is an
O.K. looking guy but not the type I would usually be attracted to.
But, when he told me, straight out, that he wanted me to suck him,
it was as though there was nothing else in the world I wanted more
than to make him come in my mouth. It only took a few minutes
before he tensed and I felt the fist spurts hit the roof of my
mouth and I had to start swallowing. He told me not to swallow but
just let it run out my mouth so I did as he said and I could feel
it running down my chin and neck. I’ve never really enjoyed the
taste and feel of sperm before, but I remember thinking how
beautiful it was at that moment.”

“When it was over, Dan told me to get down on my hands and knees
and I felt him lift my skirt all the way up and lay it on my back.
I felt very strange with my ass exposed like that but I couldn’t do
anything else. Besides, I felt a thrill like I’ve never known
before and wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me. I think I
knew he was going to use my ass, but I pretended that I didn’t know
what he intended and just waited, kneeling on the floor while he
went to a table and took something out of a drawer. In one way, I
dearly wanted to look to see what he was doing, but in a more
powerful way, I didn’t want to know. So, I stayed with my eyes
focused on the carpet before me as he returned and started applying
some kind of lubricant between my cheeks. He came around in front
of me and held out a vibrator that was very narrow at the end, but
gradually widened a little. About half way along it’s length, it
became much wider and stayed that width to its very large base. Dan
said, ‘This will help you become ready for me and I think you’ll
find it quite interesting on its own. Have you ever had a man in
your ass?’ I looked up at him and said (quite truthfully) ‘No.’
Then, he went behind me and I felt the tip of the vibrator nudge
against my anus. He turned it on very low and moved it around a
little before working just the end into my opening. As he held it
there, I was aware that my vagina was positively flowing and I
waited for more. He was so slow and gentle, that there was never
any pain as he moved the narrow end in and out in a kind of rhythm
and pushed more and more into me until he reached the place where
it bulged out wider. Dan put his hand on my back and said, ‘This
may hurt just a little, but it won’t last long.’ I tensed at his
words and he said, ‘No. You must remain relaxed.’ and he pushed
forward steadily as I felt myself stretching to accept the wider
part. There was a sharp pain as I opened farther than I would have
thought possible, but it started to disappear almost immediately as
I felt the whole vibrator sliding in to the depths of my bottom. He
turned up the speed and started fucking me with this devilish toy
as I grunted and groaned and found myself pushing back to meet each
thrust.”

“Suddenly, he pulled it out. I gasped and I felt him place the head
of his cock against my slightly open anus. He pressed forward
steadily until his stomach was resting against my cheeks and his
legs were tight against mine. I could feel him all the way up
inside me and I started to come. I kept coming as he fucked my ass
as deeply as he could until he finally came and slowly withdrew.”

Dr. Stevens was quiet for a while, then asked, “Jan, why do you
think you liked it?” “I think it’s because I’m always in control at
work”, Jan replied, “and I really don’t have a very exciting life
outside the office. I know I was searching for something before I
met Dan, and now I feel like I’ve found it. The other thing is that
it seems so ‘dirty’. I was raised in a very strict environment and
all through college and my career, I’ve worked hard at being very
serious and straight. I remember thinking, as Dan’s sperm was
dripping down my chin, ‘If my sales people could only see their
boss, now!’ It was really very exciting to think about but, of
course, I could never let anyone know I did anything like that (let
alone, loved it). It’s hard enough for a woman to be taken
seriously in the business world without having people think you’re
some kind of nymphomaniac or pervert.”

“Do you think you’re a nymphomaniac or pervert?”, Dr. Stevens
asked. Jan thought for a while, then replied, “I guess I don’t
know. In a way, what I let Dan do to, and with, me seems perverted
but when I’m with him, I just feel so free. That sounds funny,
doesn’t it? That I would feel so free when I’m being his slave? Dr.
Stevens was quiet for a few minutes, then said, softly, “Are you
going to keep seeing him?” Jan’s response was immediate. “I don’t
think I could stop. And, I don’t think I want to. Do you think I
should?” “I won’t tell you what to do”, the doctor answered, “but I
am a little concerned for your safety. Suppose Dan decides to go
too far and no one even knows you’re with him?” Jan said, “I really
don’t believe that will happen, but it’s a good point. Would it be
all right if I leave a message on your answering machine when I’m
going to see him, so at least you’ll know?” Dr. Stevens agreed, and
told Jan she wanted her to think through what she was doing and
why, so they could both understand it more fully. Jan said she
would.

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I had been riding for some seven hours now, but wasn’t yet tired. The

sun had just started to draw the evening curtains, and there was a

faint hint of rain on the cooling twilight air. I was cruising along a

quiet back road in Sussex on my BMW K100.

I have been riding bikes since I was 16, that’s 24 years now. I

have always liked biking, and will do it for as long as I can. I’m not

a flash rider. My bike is silver and standard; and I wear jeans and a

black leather jacket. I like wearing jeans, they are comfortable and

offer a little more protection than trousers.

I was doing about 50 when I saw across the hedge a Day-Glow lemon

top and black trousers. Quick check, no speed O.K. as I’m outside the

limit, still be careful! After rounding a couple of bends the road

straightened out and I could see the figure some way ahead. I was

wrong, it wasn’t the law, just some youngster in a fluorescent top and

black track suit trousers. He was hitching as far as I could tell from

this distance, but I don’t pick up hitch-hikers. Still I was in a good

mood as the day had been good; and he was miles from anywhere on a

road with little traffic and he couldn’t cause me much trouble on the

back really. I slowed down and pulled up alongside him.

Hewas about 18 I assume, but it was difficult to tell. Dark hair

and deep brown eyes. He was about five feet eight and had an athletic

build.

“Can I give you a lift, there’s a spare helmet in the back box.”

“Thanks very much mate.”

“Where are you going?”

“About twelve miles along this road, well I live just a bit off

but if you drop me at the turning I can walk from there.”

“That’s O.K. I’ll go all the way.”

“Good, that would be super.”

“Have you ever back-ridden before?”

“No, well not on one of these.”

“Well just hold on tight and stick close behind me. Don’t try to

stay upright when I lean the bike, now climb up and when we are near

your turning tap me on the left or right shoulder and I will take the

next left or right turn.”

“O.K. you’re the gov.”

He climbed up and slid himself forward till he was close behind

me. Instead of holding the seat he put his arms round my waist; obvi-

ously not been a back-rider before. We started off, and gathered

speed. There are some people who find the vibration and motion of a

big bike rather stimulating, perhaps that’s why I like bikes, all that

power throbbing between my thighs. I think it must have affected him,

as he pressed harder into my back, and I was sure I could feel quite a

hard bulge pressing against my rear. A few more miles and I felt his

hands slip down from my waist to my hips, then slowly he moved his

hands down onto my cock. The inevitable happened and my cock began to

stir and rise. He didn’t take his hand away, but cupped my swelling

bulge. Suddenly I felt a tap on my left shoulder so I regained concen-

tration, slowed and turned left up a little lane. I saw a cottage in

the distance on the right and then felt a tap on my right shoulder. I

slowed and stopped at the entrance to the drive of the cottage. He

slid off the back and removed the helmet. He stood next to me and

asked “Would you like a coffee or something before you go. I’d like to

thank you. There’s nobody in, my parents are on holiday.”

…End of the part1. To be continued..

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built up with various subdivisions, but it is unincorporated. That

means we are beyond the reach of a city sewer system, so we have to

depend on a septic tank to dispose of solid waste. These can be a real

pain in the ass, especially when you have to dig up and replace 20

feet of crushed 6-inch PVC pipe from the house to the tank in the

middle of a wet early winter day as I did about six years ago.

The thing about a septic tank is that every 6-7 years they fill up,

and when they get full, you have to call a professional, who comes out

with a big tank truck and sucks out all the accumulated shit. This

happened at our house two summers ago. All of the toilets backed up;

we had shitty water everywhere, and, well, you get the picture. So I

called the necessary people, and the company said they would send a

man out the next day.

Now I work out of my home, while my wife works in town, so being home

to meet the tank truck operator was no big deal. I expected some fat,

toothless redneck or a big, beefy black guy to show up, but what I

got, right around lunchtime, was a slight, pleasant young man of about

30. He was about 5-7 with curly blond hair and rimless glasses, who

looked like he’d be more at home teaching a college class than lugging

heavyweight hose and sucking up shit for a living. The truth is, this

guy was gorgeous, and when he peeled off his t-shirt to get to the

task at hand, I couldn’t help myself. My stomach and my cock started

churning.

I should say at this point that I am not gay. I have little use for

gays or for the gay lifestyle, although I’ve have and have had friends

of both genders who are/were gay, and I respect their right to live

their lives any way they choose.

Paradoxically, however, one of my hottest fantasies for a long time

has been to have sex with a man, to suck a dick and have a cock

fucking my ass. I discovered during my college days many years ago the

effect anal penetration can have on the sexual experience, and I’ve

been hooked ever since. Believe me, don’t knock it until you’ve tried

it.

Keep in mind, I’m not interested in a gay relationship, per se; in

fact, in my fantasies, these men are nameless and faceless. They

materialize out of thin air, with disembodied dicks that fuck me, suck

me, cum in me and on me, then disappear. By the way, my wife of some

20 years knows about these fantasies and we often use them to enhance

what is still a pretty active sex life, considering our hectic family

and work lives.

Speaking of sex, I happened at that moment to be incredibly horny. The

good wife and I hadn’t had sex in over a week. She’d been on her

period, and had also been working extremely hard on a major project,

so she’d been too pooped to putter. So I’d been sitting at the

computer that hot morning surfing the Net for porn, and was

contemplating a rousing stroke session when the septic tank guy showed

up, considerably earlier than I expected.

Like I said, I’ve never been particularly attracted to men, but I was

definitely attracted to this guy, whose name was Greg, and it wasn’t

just the fact that I hadn’t gotten laid in over a week. I wasn’t sure

what, if anything, would happen, but I decided right then that the

time would never be better than that moment to make my gay sex fantasy

come to life.

So I walked out into the back yard to chat. I was dressed in a pair of

baggy gym shorts, no underwear, and a loose-fitting tank top. I’m in

my mid-40s, and while my hair has gone mostly gray, I still have all

of it, and people tell me I look much younger than I am. I’m not a

fitness freak, but I keep myself in decent shape. I watch what I eat

and try to walk a couple of miles two or three times a week. Greg, on

…End of the part1. To be continued..

very bank official who had first sent him here. It happened the first day after

Jim’s total makeover, when without being fully aware of it Jim had committed to

dressing and looking like a woman for good, the first day after his three-week

full-time crash course in femininity had gotten under way. I thought of telling

Jim this to mortify him, that he was sucking his boss’s cock at one remove, but I

couldn’t violate client confidentiality. Then I realized that with Brian’s

cooperation I could convert Jim completely and irreversibly by the end of the

three weeks available. So why shouldn’t he suck his boss’s cock directly, and

enjoy it? Many women do. No news there!

I mentioned to Brian that I had this curious transsexual client, a man he had

recommended to me who now thought he was really a woman and who thinks semen on a

cock tastes like melted ice cream. Brian immediately recognized that it was Jim,

as I’d intended, and immediately asked for an introduction to this “lady” who

felt so impelled to suck cock. He’d wondered what was happening with Jim

because, as he said, Jim’s perfume and make-up had been duly noticed by everyone.

In fact he’d become something of an embarrassment, fixing his face daily,

arranging his hair like a woman’s even while he pretended to be a man, so he’d

been reassigned to a back office.

I asked Brian straight out, would he let Jim suck his cock. He was amused by the

idea. He quipped that many employees seem willing in order to secure

professional advancement, but even so, he’d have trouble letting a man come near

his prick. He thought a bit longer. A man who looked and acted like a woman

might be another matter. And a man who was already so much a woman he could

never again become a man, why, he’d enjoy being serviced by that kind of woman.

Especially — and he looked at me — especially if there were no charge for the

service. Was I sure that Jim’s conversion was now irreversible?

I told him that in another week or two it would be, that with his help there

could be no going back for Jim ever. What he had to do was quite simple — audit

Jim’s books at the bank. But in absolute secrecy, and to do absolutely nothing

about whatever he found.

Brian looked quite serious when I said this, and was about to refuse. But I

added quickly that any irregularities in Jim’s accounts would be set straight

together with whatever interest was required to convert missing funds into

“loans.” That I personally guaranteed whatever the sums, as long as they

remained confidential. That no one need ever know about them, nor about the

slack supervisorial hand that had allowed them even when the employee began

acting peculiarly unconventional. That not even Brian’s wife needed to know that

he had been tipped off to the embezzlement, if any, by a woman who regularly

gratifies his need to be whipped. I now looked back at Brian equally seriously.

He grinned, and explained that when money has been mismanaged or embezzled, most

businesses prefer getting it all back quietly to pressing charges against the

embezzler and perhaps thereby giving other employees ideas of their own, and

meanwhile needlessly distressing stockholders. Of course the malefactor had to

disappear and never reappear again, or Brian would be obliged to order his

arrest. I nodded and agreed. Jim would disappear.

I then told Bryan that just as banks give depositors gifts of radios or toasters,

he would receive a bonus — no charge for his first few deposits into Jim’s

mouth, and afterward the two of them would be free to make their own

arrangements. Brian might never have to pay for oral sex again. Brian smiled.

“I wonder why you’re so generous,” he commented. Brian was no fool.

The next day, while Jim was slurping away at my pussy and drinking up who knows

who’s cum, and while I was moaning, my mind delightedly dancing through fields of

fragrant flowers, I told Jim I had a arranged a special surprise for his next

appointment. I told him it would change his life. I told him to try to look as

beautiful as he could when he appeared, as feminine as possible. I told him to

ask his wife to help him look seductive.

That night he laid on the bed a choice, a beautiful, black sequinned,

figure-clinging cocktail dress, very classy, and a really racy, silver-threaded,

mini-slut dress. Then he tried to find the courage to broach the subject with

me. I knew he’d be nervous, so I laced his pre-dinner cocktail with fresh

tranquillizers instead of relying as usual on whatever effects were left from his
…End of the part1. To be continued..

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