Desired Outcome : Chinese fantasy Novel

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Re: Desired Outcome : Chinese fantasy Novel

Unread post by admin » 03 Feb 2020 18:39

11 The Palace Of Kink(Pilot With Five Chapters)


 Chapter One

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"So what are the risks of... you know. Of dying?" Kathryn asked.

"We take every precaution," the Japanese man across from her guaranteed. He was in his late forties - gaunt, stoic, the stereotypical Asian businessman in a sharp suit and thin glasses. He regarded her scrutinizingly, like a material resource perhaps, but not moreso than he would look as such upon any other clerk that worked for his organisation. "The Palace contracts the very best doctors in the country and we have the resources to have specialists flown from as far as the US within twenty-four hours," he continued with only a faint hint of an accent.

"But..." the redheaded girl on the other side of the desk prompted him.

The man shrugged, "Accidents happen. Very rarely. The customers are heavily penalised, naturally. It is not in our interest to lose any girls at all," he remarked, "it simply makes no sense fiscally. We have extended our range of services," he opens his arms, "as far as we can. With the standards we maintain it is a struggle to keep our current portfolio at what it is. If our workers were afraid for their lives, there would simply not be enough women in the world to meet our criteria," he smiles. "We would be out of wares to trade."

Kathryn nodded a little, feeling the heat rising up under her skin as she contemplated the implications. She knew them by heart, of course. She'd fantasised for years. Yet the reality of a man behind a desk telling you what you must be prepared to do felt different. "So, ah... the limitations..." she looked across toward the businessman.

"Yes. This is how the Kink Palace distinguishes itself," the businessman acknowledged. "In all other establishments, the client is presented with a selection... and he is forced to choose, not by the personality or the appearance of the girls available to him, but by their 'speciality'. They are forced to play by the whims of the hostesses, rather than the other way around. One might be repulsed by bestiality, for example, another might insist that her clients be circumcised and... other such whimsical fancies," he chuckled. "Many girls are afraid of knives, so if a client would like to indulge in some, 'bloodplay' as it is called in English, then he might well only have one or two options available even if the establishment boasts a selection of dozens, yes?

"Here, our guarantee is that, not only do we cater to the widest possible selection of kinks, but also that every hostess in our employ, every single one, is open to every single kink..." the Japanese man continued speaking with a slow, carefully paced tone, pausing to lift a finger. "No," he corrected himself, "not open. Eager," he emphasised, "each one is eager and willing no matter her client's requests."

The Irish girl crossed her legs, glancing out of the window across the night-lit Tokyo skyline. "So these limits are, uhh..." she swallowed a tiny lump in the back of her throat as her attention drifted to the contracts laid out on the table in front of her.

"That as a result of your treatment you are not likely to suffer any permanent impairment of your abilities, lasting discomfort or any class of disability," the businessman explained calmly, looking at her straight in the eye. "So in truth, every fetish is permitted at a reasonable price," he opened his hands, "the limitations primarily concern... physical damage. An expensive but, nonetheless, very popular indulgence among our clients, you must be aware," the man leans forward. "You most certainly can be hurt, Miss... Kincordie, I cannot stress how important it is for you to be aware of that. And you very much can be hurt in ways that are... permanent. Merely so long as they are not classed as debilitating."

Processing the words, the girl nodded, "It says I might receive brands and... tattoos, right?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper. "And..."

"Yes. Many clients enjoy marking their favourite girls. Some more than others. In that list you will see the limited list of... mutilations that we allow and consider them to be non-debilitating. For instance, it is permissible for a client to ask for a ring finger but not a thumb. An ear, but not an eye." His face became graver, "These are all very expensive operations and few girls must ever undergo such tasks," the businessman insisted, "but every woman who works here must be prepared to face such a request not merely with acceptance, but with a smile. Do you understand that Kathryn? Do you believe you could?"

"Yeah..." Kathryn's voice came out barely audible and she took a moment to recollect herself. "Yeah, I could," she nodded, more confidently this time. "I... I think it would be hot," she admits with a quiet shudder.

"Excellent. You have performed very well on the physiological and psychological evaluations. If you would simply sign here, here and here, then we can consider your employment contract with the Kink Palace official."

Interlude

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In 2020, the world faced the third decade of the new millennium. The world marched steadily onward, the same but different, change coming - as it always does - not in leaps, not in silver spacesuits and jetpacks, but in small details. Connectedness, cellphones, iPads. VHS tapes ushered a new age of pornography in the 20th century, but no technological advance was as revolutionary and widespread as the internet to every aspect of human existence. Societal norms were swept up and dissolved in a truly global community that had not existed since the fall of the Tower of Babel. And expose of humanity, from the core to the fringes.

What does it mean to be a freak? Even as television once brought information to the masses, disseminated across five terrestrial channels to the entirety of the United States, the norm was established with it. The mainstream. The Honeymooners. The Brady Bunch. It united people under an unwavering monolith of normalcy. Without choice, people could simply commune over their common interests - interests that had to be common. Those who diverged immediately became outcasts, the comic book nerds, the IT guys, the rednecks.

With the digital age information dissemination altered unimaginably. The five channels became five hundred. Films turned to video games, where no single experience is quite like another. The internet replaced the unifying monolith with a gaping chasm of diversity. In turn every interest became fringe and every fringe became mainstream. When Spiderman hit the theatres, how many comic book 'nerds' did it create? How many young souls sat quivering in a film theatre frightened but aroused the first time they watched a SAW film? How many gagged in front of their friends as they laughed watching 2 Girls 1 Cup only to Google the clip and watch it again and again at night in the comfort of their own rooms, retching at every frame as they masturbated?

A new culture was born - at first termed 'hipsters', which glorified this diversity. The fringe literally did become mainstream and the commune was no longer of people coming together over common interests, but sharing their most uncommon ones.

In a society where the fringe, the deviant and the bizarre found themselves on equal footing with the mundane, such distinctions begun to lose meaning. What can rightly be called shocking and obscene when the majority of the population will have watched it on YouTube and laughed? Oh, them comic book nerds. Oh them America's Got Talent Nerds. Oh, them furries. Oh, them guro fans. Oh them football fans. Aren't they funny? Aren't they weird? Who isn't?

---

In 2021, the Kink Palace opened in the heart of Tokyo. Despite the fears of stricter censorship after the RapeLay crisis, a decade later the global shift in attitude resulted in a political apathy once words such as 'obscene' and 'perverse' were banded about. The few who still droned on about the state of public moral health were ignored up until the point when an ailing economy saw the relaxation of prostitution laws and, eventually, the drafting of new regulations to promote healthy and diverse sex tourism across the island nation.

The Palace was founded by a coalition of wealthy businessmen with the capital to invest into the fledgeling industry and capture the imagination of the world: a place that catered for every fantasy. The most elaborate facilities with the most beautiful girls, each and every one of them ready and willing at a moment's notice, with a smile on their lips. Just as long as you had the bank account for it.

Chapter Two

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"Come on Kathy, you're being ridiculous," Ruth wrinkled her nose, giving her friend a queer look. "You wouldn't last a day. What if... I dunno, you could be asked to do anything. ANYTHING. Like, dress up like a bunny rabbit and lick some guy's dog's balls," she snickered.

"Yeah, but..." Kathryn's blush spread across her freckled cheeks. "It's kinda romantic in its own way, isn't it? I mean those girls they're at the top of their class. Two hundred of the kinkiest, most beautiful women in the WORLD and getting paid like it," she gesticulated like she always did when she got tipsy.

Around them the lights of the Dublin nightclub flashed, swirling hologrammatic decor projected into the ceiling - galaxies and dizzyingly huge nebulae, as if the entire dance hall was being propelled at warp speed through a celestial vortex. The three of them sat around a small table, having turned its sound isolation up until the music was muted enough for them to speak without shouting. The throbbing bass of the dance music continued to reverberate through their bodies however, irrespective of the electronic dampening, even while the audible component was rendered inaudible.

Ruth had transferred to school in Dublin when she was fourteen and now, two years later, she had become Kathryn's best friend, or thereabouts. The blonde Glaswegian was pretty - with flowing hair, an ample, perky D-cup bust and a partying streak a mile wide. She was the most outgoing of their bunch and had no shortage of boyfriends. That night she'd brought Darren along, a lanky teen with curly hair from the year above.

As she sat in her lap, nursing an empty cocktail glass, the seventeen-year-old cuddled her and leant down to kiss the Scottish girl, making her squirm against him, a hand quietly reaching down into his skinny jeans.

While Ruth was pretty, Kathryn was gorgeous - or so everyone told her. She watched the couple from the other side of the table, still sipping at her white Russian. The redhead was pure Irish and a bit on the short side, but her pink, freckled cheeks, plump ruby lips and wide, iridescent green eyes were to die for. Or so she was told. To top it off, her hair grew in long, luscious and silky locks, coloured a stunningly bright and very natural red. She was a passing athlete to top it off - in good shape, with a perky pair of C-cups that commanded their own respect and attention.

As fortune would have it, she was also the heavily bookish type. Going out on the blitz never held that much interest for her. Sure, there was the sex and the strippers and the booze, but frankly - there was little she couldn't enjoy in the peace and quiet of her own home. Without the blaring music, the flashing lights, the drunk freshers from the universities making passes at barely-legal fifteen year-olds. She was not a fan of crowds. The mediated turn-by-turn dialogue of a chatroom, certainly, but not this thing... so many people, all talking to each other, where you have to grab at every little pause in conversation and squeak and hope people pause talking and listen to you, followed by the awkwardness when you start speaking and someone else does half a second later and you pause and hope that they'll respectfully let you continue what you started first, but then they just keep on talking like you never even said anything...

That is not to say that Kathryn Kincordie did not have a social life, far from it. But she met most of her friends online, while her school hours were focused on work, either curled up alone in the library with a tablet, chatting to someone online or down in the design workshops, polishing trinkets for extra credit in her metalwork classes until one of her friends like Ruth would decide to drop by for a chat. Of course she had boyfriends - few guys could resist the quiet, shy redheaded cutie and many would seek her out. A fair few would even elicit a blush and a smile and a few blissful weeks would be spent in sweaty embraces under the bedsheets every afternoon after school. But while she'd chat for hours about the socio-political studies, or the implications of Godel's incompleteness theorem on the nature of truth, the consensus was established that she was a dull girlfriend as she was never one to go out, go to parties, or really do anything couply at all. Other than fuck.

The ones that did not grow bored of her, she grew bored of herself - her own sexual interests deviated from most of her classmates and once the newness of a stranger's cock pressing against her skin during a languorous Saturday afternoon wore off, she found she had no real use for them. When she celebrated her fifteenth, she unwrapped her first vibrating dildo courtesy of her mother, while her dad gifted her a pre-paid all-site pass for Kink.com. Having themselves first met online in World of Warcraft and courted by means of months of orgiastic all-night erotic roleplay, Sienna and Brien Kincordie where hardly the paragons of conservatism.

Kathryn's gaze wandered across to the stage, some fifteen feet from where they sat. Lit up gorgeously from below, nude figures twisted ecstatically, glistening with sweat amidst swirls of luminescent smoke - spinning for the entertainment and arousal of club goers. Closest to them were a couple, both intimately wrapped around a pole and each other. The woman looked like she was a college student, blonde and buxom. The breasts looked natural, but Kathy thought she could see traces or fresh scars from an operation. The man was some twenty-five years older, well-built, with jagged hair and a proud erection.

The intimacy and eroticism of their dance was practically palpable, her vice-like grip on his cock as they kissed, broke apart, mounted the pole, then reunited. With effortless grace, she inverted herself, spiderman-kissing her partner from above. As the teen watched, she wondered if they were an actual couple. Mixed, male and female, strippers became all the rage since before she'd even set foot in a club, catering to both the girls and the guys on the dancefloor, rousing their tempers to the beat of the music. But the missing ingredient was discovered when some club owner realised that rather than having a pole each, the result was so, so much more fascinating when they shared the poles, to at a time. You can only watch the rippling muscles of a perfect Adonis for so long: the interplay of two beings in romantic, intimate union, however, was something else entirely.

Naturally, it was another show entirely when a real spark existed between the two dancers, something that could silence half a room as they would themselves become embodied, enraptured and entranced within the lovers' art. Show business was show business however, and while skilful couples could earn a respectable living performing for the masses, many more learned to fake it when it meant keeping their jobs.

"Hi, how are you beautiful guys and girls doing, would you like any more drinks, top-ups?" Kathy was torn from her reverie as the table was attended to by a young lad with a shaved head and a Scottish accent. The cheerful sort, likely just out of school, working part-time to save up for university. He stood shirtless, wearing leather chaps, his bare cock swaying between his bared thighs at an impressive length, getting a little giggle out of Ruth.

"I'm good," Kathryn blushed, shaking her head as she hid her smile behind her white russian, while watching the attendant with a degree of amusement. This club was definitely posher than Ruth's usual haunts.

"What about you two?" the boy turned to Ruth and her boyfriend, distracting them from their canoodling. "Can I refill your glass for you sweetie?"

The blonde Glaswegian looked up with a little smile, "Sure... ahh..." Ruth's eyes searched around and hit upon Kathy's drink. "What's that you're drinking, Kitty-Kat?"

"White russian," the redhead shrugged quietly.

"Ooh, okay. I'll have one of those then," Ruth nodded, handing the handsome attendant her empty glass. "Aaaand..." she added before he had a chance to depart, lips curling into a teasing smile, "a layer of your thick, creamy spunk on top, if you will, er.... what's your name cutie?"

"Michael Fiennes," the young man laughed warmly, "I'll get right on that," he nodded back with a little wink, tapping up the price on his tablet. Ruth waved her debit card and a moment later he was off, with a little wave.

Darren shook his head with a mock sigh, "You're such a teasing little slut," he muttered, nibbling on his girlfriend's ear.

"Oh, why - did you want some too? We can share..."

Kathy finally finished off her drink once Ruth's new friend zipped off to get a white russian, flashing her friend a little smile at her antics. "So what do you want to do once you graduate?" she wondered idly, avoiding setting her glass down on the table, lest the device flagged it as empty and sent another nude waiter their way for expensive refills.

"Not my ken," the blonde shrugged it off, "maybe work at a place like this for a while, meet some cute boys, maybe an older gent of some handsome deion and wealthy persuasion," she winked. "Maybe one with a healthy appetite for young boys' asses..." she leant back, planting a gnawing kiss on her boyfriend's cheek, evoking a retaliatory bite from Darren in turn, plunging the two of them into giggles and more squirming.

"But you don't think I should go to Japan?" Kathryn sighed. "I mean, I can learn some Japanese by then, I'm cute, I'm kinky..." she shook her head, "why don't you think?"

Ruth pushed Darren away for a moment as she leant forward, "Kitty-Kat, you know it's not like that. I know you're into freaky shit and I'm sure you might enjoy some of the stuff they do at the Kink Palace, but I dunno, doing that stuff for work just isn't the same, don't you think you'd just spoil it for yourself, having to do this kinda thing day in, day out?" she sighed. "And it's not like it's a career for you, you wanna do... what was it you said?"

"Umm, I want to start a company making jewellery and sex toys," the redhead blushed a bit. "But I mean it's not like I'd be there long, most girls only have to work for a year or two until they have like ten million in the bank account and they're basically set, right?" she countered. "I could really use capital like that, I could start up something serious with that money, not like some homemade online shop, but a real business."

"Mm-hm, or maybe one of your clients gets a bit too eager, strangles you a little bit too much and they send your parents a compensation check of some, say, fifty million to make up for the 'Tragic Loss'. You don't know what kinda psychos would be using you over there. It's NOT going to be fun, Kitty-Kat." Ruth squeaked as Darren pinched her nipple through the sheer, black top she was wearing. "Oi! Stop it, horny perv," she slapped his hand away, pouting playfully as she popped off his lap and walked over to Kathy, leaving the teen having to cross his legs to hide the erection he was sporting.

"Right," Ruth continued, "where was I... so yeah. And then there's the chance they'll do something really nasty to you and you'll end up with their 'golden parachute' retirement package because they can't use you anymore. Sure, great if you like the money, but that would only be because they Really Fucked You Up. Right? You don't want that," she stroked Kathy's chin softly. "And you know, likeliest outcome is you'll get there and they'll say, 'Eh, you're okay, but not our kinda girl'. And you'll waste like a whole year bumming around Japan, barely getting by on strip clubs and hostess cafes."

Kathy stayed silent through the monologue, watching Ruth's chin move as the Scot spoke. Once the hand comes up, she took the girl's fingers and pulled them away, shoulders slumping. A part of her wanted to yell at the blonde. It was the same thing everyone else had told her. Her parents tried to scare her with stories of Japanese cannibals who liked to eat the skin off teenage girls who squirmed around while still alive. Her teachers kept telling her how good her grades were and encouraging her to go into engineering. The one person whose support she'd always hoped to count on was now here with the same tired old platitudes, making the Irish girl want to shout and tell her to fuck off for once because for once she knew what she bloody well wanted. Or at least she felt like she did.

"Eeyy, one white russian with cum on top for the lovely blonde, yes?" the attendant veered back around the table with a drinks tray and an erection. "Would you care to watch, or care to perform the honours," he chuckled, distracting Ruth away from her best friend.

"Oh!" the Glaswegian brightened up then glanced at her boyfriend - now left by himself across the table - with an evil look. "Mm, I think I'll do the honours. Is it okay if I use my mouth?"

"Be my guest lass, but if you spill any you're nae getting seconds unless you pay for another shot."

Chapter Three

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"Katareena-chan?"

Kathy had dozed off. She squirmed in the large chair at the sound of her name, broken down and reassembled out of foreign syllables, her limbs tightening up in response to the startlement that brought her out of her reverie.

"I am very sorry for the wait," the Japanese woman smiled bashfully. The girl recollected that she'd introduced herself as Yuna, speaking the language fluently as if Kathy had been a native speaker, making it a little hard to follow her at times. "You are looking very lovely indeed today," her gaze ran down the redhead's pale skin.

After a week of basic training, Kathryn found herself shivering as she had now entered the Kink Palace as an outsider for the last time. Yuna had greeted her, stripped the girl naked, and bid her to wait in the make-up chair while she fetched her records. In spite of her nudity, she felt warm and comfortable in the upholstered white leather, every part of the room clean and smooth like the Apple stores she used to visit as a child. Before her was a tall mirror, showing a buxom Irish beauty with a pointed nose-tip, cascading rivers of fire down her shoulders and peppered freckles that adorned her chest until it curved out into pert, somewhat puffy, pink nipples. At some point, the comfort of the seat made her doze off.

"It's okay," Kathy replied, carefully forming the Japanese words on her lips as she smiled up at the hostess. Yuna wore the classical uniform of the Kink Palace - a white, button-up shirt that was carefully tailored to fit snugly around the woman's curves, thin three-quarter length white hose, designed to accent the buttocks, and a pair of featureless white slippers. All in all, the impression was sterile and almost medical, easily something a nurse might wear as well as being, perhaps, almost surprisingly conservative.

Yuna herself was thin and rather tall compared to most of the Japanese girls Kathy had gotten to know during her stay in Tokyo. She also had the appearance of a model, as well as the countenance of one - perfect posture, graceful, elegant movements and that alluring, enigmatic gaze that felt as if her eyes had been trained by rote to always look just a little bit past the camera, at something mysterious out there beyond the shot. She wore her hair long and straight, brushed into a glossy black sheen.

Her uniform bore no insignia, no gaudy advertisement of the Kink Palace like one might have seen on a Hooters' Girl or a Playmate in the US a decade past. It was impressed on Kathryn from early on that the Palace Hostess' role is one of subtlety, until she was called upon to be otherwise. Only one identifier was required, yet it alone spoke volumes: a thin, black band stretched around Yuna's neck, intricately ornate. Though easily mistakable for a fashionable choker, up close there was no doubt it was in fact a masterful tattoo, inked all the way around her throat. The Kink Palace logo, in roman and katakana characters, formed the centre of the ornament, very permanently emblazoned into her skin and that of every other hostess - a mark of pride and shame, submission and prevalence.

"You were born in 2009, yes?" the Japanese woman dexterously tapped her fingers across the tablet in her hands, standing between Kathy and the mirror. "Twenty years old, born Katareena Keen-Koru-Dee," she asked rhetorically.

"Yes and... yes," Kathy nodded. "I was twenty last winter."

Yuna's fingernails, Kathryn noticed, were a bright, glittering pink, clacking on the glass of the tablet every time she pressed something. "Very good health condition, normal psychological profile, psychosexual data is still to be gathered... yes, everything is very much in order." She lowered the pad, "So your shift will begin in three hours, I hope you are prepared for the experience of a lifetime," the brunette smiled politely with an odd spark in her eye. "I am here to help you get ready and get you set up."

"Okay."

Yuna's fingertips brushed across the girl's skin, making the redhead shiver as they slowly travelled over her leg and followed the curve of her toned stomach. "I see you were thoroughly waxed during your training. That is very lovely. Your skin is perfect and it will save us some time. We will begin with your makeup and then apply your tattoos. After that, you'll be ready to have your digital avatar captured, first nude, then with your uniform. At nine, you should be ready to meet your client."

While the older woman spoke, she opened up several silver cases of cosmetics, first brushing Kathy's hair back, before starting on her face. She went easy on the foundation so as to preserve the natural freckles and soft transparency of the girl's rosy skin, yet the Japanese beauty was an artist with her brush, touching up her complexion in all the right places to give a very natural-seeming radiance. "My client?" the redhead wondered, biting her lip a little at the thought. "I thought..."

"Yes, we have a few gentlemen who are regular customers who very much enjoy being the first clients of our new girls. It is a harmless privelege that comes with an elevated price - once a new hostess signs her contract, her preliminary details are published online, allowing for her to be bid upon," Yuna stated, switching tools a few times. Within minutes the fine retouching was finished and she started on the eye makeup, "very careful, stay still, Katareena-chan," she whispered quietly, gesturing for the redhead to close one eye.

"I just never really expected that," Kathy took a deep breath, "it sounds so... serious. Baptism by fire?"

"Nothing too hard for your first day, I am sure. Doing anything... um, drastic to a girl on her first day is very expensive. I am sure no one paid quite that much this time."

"I guess, but still - I suppose I expected something more, I don't know, mundane. Serving drinks maybe, working the bar and things like that..." Kathryn smiled a little.

Yuna only offered an enigmatic smile as she walked around to work on her other eye, "You will soon find that, here, the mundane is the exceptional. The unusual and unexpected... that is the norm."

"And that's why I came here, I suppose. So do you know who will be taking me in, um, two and a half hours?"

"That would spoil the surprise, would it not? Most customers do not announce their choices and preferences until they pick you out from the menu," Yuna shakes her finger at the new girl. "You always face the unexpected. Every moment - a lottery. You must always look forward to it - otherwise it will drive you insane," she giggles.

"No, I do! I do... I'm just nervous."

"Well, don't be - you look gorgeous and I am sure you will enjoy yourself," Yuna gave her charge a confident smile, lifting the girl's chin up. "Now let's see about your nails - are there any colours you prefer to wear?" she mused, inspecting Kathy's hands briefly before opening another case to reveal a rainbow spectrum of nail-polish.

Kathy was somewhat surprised, "I get a choice? No, I hadn't thought about that," she blushed, sitting forward.

"It's one of the few ways you get to express yourself before a customer. Your hairstyle, which is gorgeous as it is, is the other - so I'd recommend something that brings you out, gives you a little spice."

"I can't say I've ever worn any..." the redhead paused, noting again her hostess's neon pink nails, "...especially expressive colours of polish."

"Then allow me to suggest," Yuna carefully tugged a bright green bottle from her kit, "I know it's a little... mm, stereotypical," she held it up against Kathy's hand, "seeing as you're, well, Irish, but I also think it would work great with your hair and complexion. If you'll let me?"

"Whatever you think works best," the girl flushed, nodding.

The hostess smiled and got set up, sitting down beside Kathryn as she got to work on the polish. "You'll look beautiful." Yuna's brush-strokes lay quickly and accurately across the redheaded girl's nails, the lacquer shiny enough to seem like it glows. "I've meant to ask however... as a new initiate you were given a choice. You could have just one week of basic training, or a month of advanced before you started work. You chose to start as soon as possible?"

"Of course."

"That is very brave of you. What if you won't be able to handle everything that's thrown at you? I mean, how much pain have you ever experienced? What if you throw up the first time someone inserts their member into your throat?" the woman blushed a little while she talked, still concentrating on the other's nails. "There are many things you may not be prepared for - the smell of a horse, your first taste of urine, these are all things you could have been properly exposed to and trained to tolerate otherwise..."

"Well, I suppose. But, I think there's something exciting in finding these things out for myself, trying things out for the first time with people who really want me to do them."

"Oh yes," Yuna laughed, "many clients feel the same way - and hostesses who join with minimal training are labelled with a lotus flower on the menu to signify their relative 'innocence'," she mused. "You will very likely earn more money as such, but... well, many clients are very eager to introduce their 'lotuses' to the receiving side of their darker pleasures," the woman knelt as she lifted Kathy's feet, painting her toes in the same manner - the lacquer dried quickly.

"Well, I've... tried some of those at least, I mean, in my personal life. I don't mind the anticipation, excitement of trying something new, something I don't know if I can bear. And, when I say I don't mind it, I mean I kind of like it."

"You're going to be an interesting one to work alongside. I think we're done here," Yuna smiled and stepped back, admiring her work with a little squint. She checked something on her tablet and nodded, "Alright then. The tattoo artist should be waiting for you, it's just down the hall," the woman offered a hand, helping Kathy up.

The girl glanced back at the street clothes she had worn when she came in, carefully folded on a shelf at the back of the dressing room. "Nude? What about my..."

"Katareena-chan, this is the Palace! Don't be silly. Come on," Yuna tugged her hand and soon they stepped out into the corridor - soft diffuse lights, wooden panelling and sinfully soft carpeting for Kathryn's toes to sink blissfully into. The tattoo studio was just a few doors down and the hostess made her step in first, the redhead's breasts jumping in surprise as she hopped over the threshold.

The studio was made out to look more like a doctor's office - white and surgical, with a reclining chair in the centre, easily re-fashionable into a bed. The artist, an elderly and slightly plump Japanese man nodded politely to greet the Irish arrival. "Take a seat," he spoke in accented, but clear English, careful not to touch the girl until she got comfortable. Yuna, on the other hand, was addressed in quick strings of his native language that Kathy barely caught. She only realised the intent once the woman had lifted her red locks up and carefully secured them within a rubber cap, leaving her long neck exposed.

"Will it hurt?" she switched to the much more comfortable English language. It felt as if ants were marching down her neck, especially her spine, while she watched the man put on latex gloves and prepare a tray of his tools by the cabinets. As always, the anticipation and arousal made her nipples harden and she looked to Yuna for support, but the woman was speaking to the artist - something along the lines of being informed when the process finished - before she turned around and wandered back out the door.

"Have you had tattoos before?" the man wondered, setting up the tray beside his patient. Although a quick glance over the Irish girl's soft, rosy body, he laughed, "No, no of course you haven't. Yes, it will hurt. Not as much as other things you'll be doing, I'm sure," he grinned at her, "but much more than... piercing your ears, or new tattoo would." Cold cotton swabs circled her neck several times around, spreading only more goosebumps across the rest of the nude foreigner's skin. "The Palace has these expensive devices and high-technology and advanced inks!" he chuckled, inserting a cartridge of opaque black ink into the electric tattoo gun. "They go in deep, they do not fade and they much faster than streetcorner tattooist. But they also - how do you say it - they sting like a beetch. And they cannot be removed, not ever. Only skin transplant. The boys like girls tattooed for ever. And ever!" he laughed in that high-pitched 'old man' kind of voice.

If the artist expected Kathryn to reply, he did little to give her the chance as, a moment later, she felt his firm, vice-like grip on the back of her head, holding her steady, and the whirr of the needle. Two moments later, the needle was burrowing under her skin, or so it felt. The burning tip felt as if it were scorching her nerve endings directly while it curled across her tender skin in a swirling, intricate dance.

Her mind span dizzily as the pain failed to subside, but the tip of the artist's pen only continued onward, curling from the back of her neck to the throat, where she felt with frightening permanence the symbol of the Palace being branded into her, letter by letter.

Kathryn wasn't entirely sure how long had passed, but at some point the burning tip subsided to merely a dull, throbbing ache encircling her entire neck and she opened her eyes, bleary from the tears, to see the older Japanese man holding up a digital mirror - in which her neck, angrily red and just a little swollen, now shared the same unmistakeable design that Yuna wore.

"That looks really beautiful," the redhead smiled, trying to blink the tears away that had begun to gather. Her fingertips, trembling anxiously, rose up to trace the insignia. The touch burned, but she pressed against the swollen skin regardless, gasping at the fact she could feel the sharp corners of the 'K' rising up from her own flesh. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Wear it proudly, Katareena, the Palace is forever a part of you now," the artist placed a hand on her shoulder. "I hope you are ready to understand what that means. Now go find Yuna," he smiled.

Chapter Four

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

The redhead's body sprawled luxuriantly across the large, soft bedspread. She lay on her stomach, taking in sharp, quick breaths, her hands still gripping the fabric like tiny vices. Her own red hair, spread in a fiery explosion all around, dominated her vision, but beyond it the night-time lights of Copenhagen flickered while out of focus: a scintillating background of bokeh.

Much less peripheral to her senses, the young woman's anus was throbbing with a tight, burning pain - sharp, but not entirely unpleasant in her state of arousal. The cock within it, was describing a slow pistoning movement through her rectum, slowly coming to a stop - cumming, even. Though she could not feel the semen spurting deeper into her colon, Kathy could definitely feel the rhythmic quivering of the spurting member. With her bowels impregnated, the sodomite that was lying on top of her firmly squeezed her breasts and sighed.

The youth's lips ran up along her shoulder, alternating between kisses and gentle bites, even the softest ones leaving little red marks on her pale skin. "My little Irish slut sounded like she enjoyed that," he whispered, biting down on her earlobe a little too hard - enough to make her whimper and squirm under his sweaty body. "Are you still sure you want to do this next part?"

Kathryn closed her eyes, silently wishing he hadn't asked her that. Instinctively, her hands pulled at the restraints - warm leather cuffs around both her wrists and ankles that spread-eagled her for the young man's entertainment. In one sense, she was entirely helpless as the straps lacked any give. Were he to abandon her, her situation was nigh-on inescapable: she might rather sensibly starve to death of thirst and hunger before working herself free from his bondage. Yet in another sense, she remained very much in control. A single word, a single shriek of discomfort too loud for his conscience would end the illusion. As such, her submission irrevocably remained merely that: a fantasy.

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes remaining closed until she felt the cock slowly pull out of her ass, still half-firm, the man rising up from her body along with it. The bed swayed and buckled, rocking her back and forth as she felt him climb off and, finally, bounced up sharply as her pretend 'captor' stood up from it.

When her eyes opened again, his hand was brushing the red locks out of her face, tenderly stroking the girl's cheek until she could see clearly the uncut penis, glistening with smeared cum and lube, being held in front of her, inclined downward at a receding angle as its erection faded. The youth slid his fingers down, curling them under her jaw and lifting her head to meet the moist tip of his member.

The smell of cum and sweat was musky and pleasant, though with the exotic tangyness of her own ass. Without hesitance, the redhead pulled herself up and carefully swallowed the foreskin, sucking it in between her lips, her tongue tasting the saltiness and bitterness of her captor's cum. She kept her eyes closed, slowly allowing more of the prick to rest against her tongue, filling up her mouth until her nose buried itself in his bristly pubic hair.

Another hand, pulling her red locks tight, kept her face there, slowly breathing through the musky, sweaty pubes, while she heard the man groan pleasantly far above her. At the same time, her ass remained sore, now feeling oddly exposed to the elements as it gaped by its lonesome.

"Look up at me," the calm command sounded from above. Her face was slowly pulled back along the shrinking length until she could just see the dark-haired youth looking down at her. Kathy knew what was coming and her heart beat faster. She blinked a few times while she strained to maintain eye-contact and gently suckled on the soft prick, pushing that foreskin back with her tongue and finding more sticky semen underneath.

Then it came - the penis perked up, tightened and slowly released a hot trickle of piss into her mouth. The rancid, salty fluid felt almost scorching at first, not through its heat but by the strength of its taste, the redhead's mouth filling with the frothy liquid and its heady vapours. It took her a few seconds until she could overcome the retching in the back of her throat and build up the courage to swallow, by which point it was almost too late to stop it from spilling out on the bed. With a mammoth effort, Kathryn began to gulp mouthful after mouthful of urine, feeling the warmth run down her throat, grimacing as the taste and smell became overwhelming - and yet, to stop would have let the dark, yellow liquid overflow and stain the bedsheets as an even more vivid testament to her submission.

It seemed like hours until the man's bladder was exhausted, though she felt sure no more than a few seconds had passed. She realised she'd closed her eyes, still grimacing, her mouth tasting like a toilet even with the source of the repulsive flavour gone.

Just like that, the cock pulled free from her lips and she breathed in deep, ventilating her tongue while her restraints were loosened one by one. In the end, Kathryn's captivity was no more and the young woman sat up, relaxing into the arms of the Danish brunet.

"Was it how you expected it?" he murmured into her ear, kissing it and caressing her stomach from behind - large, warm hands scouring her sensitive skin, so much of it still covered in goosebumps.

"No, but it was amazing," Kathryn smiled blissfully, licking her lips while she turned to nuzzle her lover's cheek.

---

Troels had been the latest in Kathy's online conquests - or perhaps she in his. Once she turned seventeen, though still in school, she was in a position to work part-time and soon found herself serving tables in the nude at the same high-end club Ruth had taken her out to in the past. The money, in turn, helped pay for Japanese language lessons and the occasional bit of recreation she would not otherwise have been able to afford: such as visiting the friends she made overseas.

The handsome brunet was a Danish dom, only some two years older than Kathryn herself. He had just left school and enrolled at university in Copenhagen. His parents had been considerably more conservative than Kathy's and he was curious to try a more sexually exuberant lifestyle than he managed at home. She met him on a lifestyle forum - it was an online community that had started out as an advice board for young people seeking to get into the sex industry, where the younger generations could interact with more experienced industry workers. Over the years it expanded to become a far more general aggregate for discussions of sex, industry practices, ethics and all matters related.

She first found herself curious as Troels appeared to go against the grain of the majority of users: while originating from one of the more permissive European countries, he seemed to consider most sex work unethical, even while advocating a sex-positive outlook on inter-personal relationships as long as the interactions were constrained to the bedroom (or similarly appropriate other part of the house).

"I'm a utilitarian," Troels explained, stepping out of the shower and towelling off his hair. Kathy had showered first - rinsing out her mouth and then carefully salving her bruised anus after she damage had been soothed somewhat by the warm running water. By the time her Danish crush was done with the bathroom as well, she was once more lying nude on the bed where she had been sodomised, albeit this time snuggled up amidst the sheets with a Kindle and a mug containing a frothy half-pint of Leffe.

"And this kind of trend just isn't socially-speaking healthy," the Dane continued, pouring some of the beer in his own mug too. "It's a question of gender equality and it's long been documented that public, constant sexual objectification of women does no favours toward male prejudice of your sex. The more women there are that dedicate themselves to the sex industry the poorer the rest are regarded."

Kathy sat up, sipping her Leffe and putting the mug aside as Troels sat back down on the bed. She pressed up against his back, enjoying the athletic man's warmth, her arms wrapping pleasantly over his abdomen, her breasts flattened against the musculature of his shoulders. "Sexuality is just a part of you like any other - men are strong and they're allowed to work as heavy lifters. Women are prejudiced against men because they reckon every guy is stronger and we make you do all the hard work," she snickered, "obviously, that's why we've been treating you like heavy lifting machinery for the past few centuries," her lips nipped at his earlobe.

"Look, no matter how fine and great you say it is in theory, there's no arguing that the stats are fucked up. Look at income, okay? Now compare the gap between the average incomes of men and women - going down right? But suppose we took only those women who do not work in the sex industry and compared their pay to men's pay? Big surprise, their pay has actually gone down in the past ten years or so. All the figures are there."

"By what, a Euro? These things go up and down all the time, Troels. You can select whatever statistics you want and look at them any way you like. It's different from country to country, city to city. I mean, what makes you think you're allowed to separate out sex workers and all the others like that? That's the idea, they're both just as legitimate as each other, that's the whole point."

"But they're not. Are they, Kathy? Fifty percent of women still baulk at the idea of..."

"You mean the fifty percent that are over the age of fifty?"

"I'm serious! Look, you... you can't just tell women to either become prostitutes or just suck it up and earn less pay than men who are otherwise just as good as them at their jobs in every respect. And think about it, this kind of bullshit is just spreading further and further into society. I mean, you serve tables nude at your club - I bet ten years ago anyone trying to employ a nude seventeen year-old attendant would have have broken so many laws they wouldn't have seen the light of day ever again. What'll happen in another ten years or twenty? Maybe every law firm in Europe will demand that their secretaries perform their duties in the nude, too. Maybe every female nurse will be contractually obligated to give the patients blowjobs to speed up their recovery."

"Troels..."

"Oh, what's that? You want to go into medicine, but you're a weird freak who doesn't like having nasty sex with strangers? I'm sorry, we don't have any openings! Try another hospi..."

Kathy bit the boy's neck, making him hiss quietly instead of continuing. "You're being silly. Look, all that your job distribution stats say is that there's more girls choosing to work in sex - there's no evidence at all to say that women's opportunities are being impeded. If anything, they're better than ever: girls who couldn't afford education before, or who couldn't afford their own businesses now have an extra option of making a lot of money quite fast by doing sex work. It's empowering, it's relatively safe and it can be enjoyable for a lot of the ones doing it. After a few years they can do whatever the fuck they like..."

"Except then they realise that nothing else pays quite as well as sex, so they've got a choice of being metaphorically fucked up the ass by The Man and being stuck in a shitty low-paid job while their male colleagues take home checks that are twice as big... or being wealthy, but being quite literally fucked up the ass by The Man."

"Well it's their choice and they deserve to choose whether they want to make something of their academics or if they want to do sex work - there's nothing ethical about denying them choice," the redhead moaned, pulling Troels down with her, the two of them splayed out nude on the bed together. The brunet struggled not to spill his beer while she continued, sitting up over him, "I keep saying, it's about opportunities - it's not closing off opportunities at all, it's only offering new ones. Like, look at the percentage of female CEOs. Back in 2010 it was like three percent. Now it's eight."

Troels craned his neck up to sip at his mug while Kathy held him down and moved over to straddle his chest, her wet, smoothly waxed pussy smearing its honey across his skin while she did so. "But it is an ethical issue," he objected, letting her take the top for now. "It's like, why is there such a huge ethical difference between making a girl eat a cucumber and making a girl give a blowjob when she doesn't want to? **** is **** because coercing a woman into a sex act is a very special kind of evil, babe. And this, this is mass coercion. Today it's girls having the 'option' of selling their bodies to pay for education, tomorrow it's politicians arguing that women don't need student grants or child benefits because they can always go and make a quick buck on the streets..."

"God, you and your slippery slopes," Kathryn smirked, pinning the youth's hands down as she leaned in and planted a warm kiss across his lips - it lasted only for a few moments, but ended with a firm bite on his lower lip, making the Dane arch his spine and buck against her aroused vagina. "You're so much more fun when you're just fucking me in the ass and calling me a slut," she whispered.

"That's different," the boy objected, lowering his voice as he realised she'd just put an end to any more philosophising he had lined up. "You know, when you work at the Kink Palace, you won't get a choice whom you fuck," he smirked, "maybe you should practice putting up with my..."

"Yeah, because ardent feminists are just going to be lining up to flog my tits at the Kink Palace," Kathryn interjected with a deviant smile. She sat up and pulled herself up off the young man's chest, strands of sticky wetness connecting her to him. "I think it's time for you to service my pussy, mister feminist," the girl mused, sliding her fingers through the brunet's curly, luscious hair.

"Ja, ma'am."

Chapter Five

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

By the time Yuna brought Kathryn to the dressing room, the ache in her neck had begun to subside. For the first time, she witnessed a communal area - she found herself in a circular chamber, well-lit and furnished with baroque leather sofas, antique dressing tables and old-fashioned garderobes. While about half of the women appeared asian, the other half were a multitude of ethnicities.

Amid quietly murmured conversations, overall there was little in terms of loud chatter. Stages of dress and undress were many: some had just come in to work, changing out of work clothes and headed into the steam showers. Others were already slipping their own uniforms on, others still were changing out of uniforms into costumes of their clients' choosing. One girl stepped out in a cowgirl outfit, flashing her bare ass under an authentic pair of leather chaps - except it wasn't entirely bare, one of the cheeks sporting a large, circular mark branded into her flesh.

First Kathy was taken into a sideroom for a final stage of preparation: cameras were lined up in a circle around a small pedestal, where she was to pose for the rotating display that would later appear on clients' menus. Two versions were needed: one clothed and one nude, with the ominous reminder that both would be updated to reflect 'changes', which Yuna blushingly characterised as hairstyle and bodyweight updates.

"If you receive marks or... injuries, however," the Japanese woman remarked quietly, "they will of course need to be photographed as well. Not just after you receive them, but every day as well as they heal," she explained, producing a rotating display of Kathryn in the nude.

Once satisfied with the product, the Irish girl found herself taken to the dressing lounge yet again - this time another girl stopping to spray a selection of lightly-scented perfumes.

"Sonja," the petite and remarkably flat-chested blonde replied when Kathryn asked for her name. She was wearing the same white uniform that most of the girls wore, kneeling down with a polite smile as she fished out another small bottle from her bag and applied the ointment to the redhead's toes. "First client?" she wondered, speaking with a light Scandinavian accent.

"Yes, a little nervous," Kathy admitted, "you have a lot of different perfumes - do I get to choose which ones to use later, or is there some unique Kink Palace fragrance?"

"Yes and no. These aren't strictly-speaking perfumes, you can add a fragrance of your own choosing on top, later."

"What do you mean?"

Sonja moved a little closer, tapping the redhead's knees with a little blush. Another tiny vial came out and as Kathy revealed her warm sex, the smaller woman leant in, carefully applying yet another oil across the lips of her pussy. "They're... well, they're a little complicated. But mostly they aim to give your body a smell that feels natural, but pleasant. There's a whole bunch of science behind it - when you first signed up, during your physical, they would have taken your sweat samples, your saliva, your cooch and all that," the blonde smiled sweetly.

Another bottle came out, "Sorry, you'll get used to me doing this I'm afraid," Sonja warned coyly, moistening her fingers with the new oil - this one, Kathy soon found out, was applied by inserting those digits inside her, down to the knuckle. As the nude redhead squirmed, the perfumier continued, "So I've a list here of all the formulas to use on you. The idea is that they work with your natural musks and make the smell nicer in some places, or cancel out your odour in others. So you can use your own perfume if you like! But a lot of the clients don't like there being too much artifice, you know, they like the 'real deal' and such."

Kathryn leant forward as her armpits and breasts were treated in the same manner. Finally, Sonja gave her a tablet to dissolve in her mouth, one that she explained was for the girl's breath and saliva.

"Can I ask you something before you go?" she touched Sonja's arm once the blonde had turned to move off.

"Sure. Shoot, I guess."

"I'm just wondering, there's a lot of girls here like, um, you - who don't really look like they serve clients. I mean, will I have to do perfuming between clients, or makeup and all those things as well? It looks kind of like you specialise, but you have the tattoo and everything..."

Sonja's cheeks blushed quite darkly, "Ah, yes," she bit her lip a little. "It's just that some of us who have been here for a while, the clients become less interested, especially if you've had a lot of things done to you... it's like, a few battle-scars are fine, but too much and you're a veteran, you know?"

"But can't you just take the retirement package? That's a lot of money and you get care and all that..."

"Well, yes, of course you can. It's just that..." Sonja sighed a little, "I don't know, it's a bit hard to explain, but it's just that when you give so much of yourself," she winced a little, "literally, even, it can become quite hard to leave this place. And make no mistake, I just mean like emotionally, it's not that anyone stops you or discourages you," the blonde giggled nervously. "But a lot of girls do want to keep working even if they get hurt or even disfigured and they still get clients, just much less than before.

"Maybe they just want to keep going, or well, some of us just maybe have a regular client or two who keep coming back..." she smiled coyly, "but maybe we're a little scared to just leave the palace and move in with them after all this time. But anyway, if you don't get too many clients you can just opt to do some internal work between appointments for really good pay, and that's what I'm doing."

Kathy stood up, running her nosetip along the skin of her own arm, surprised by the gentle fragrance. "This does smell so good," she smiled down at Sonja. "Thanks. And, I didn't know that. Um, it's probably rather impolite to ask, but what is it that's er..." she gestured a little at the blonde, "I mean, you look fine and really quite pretty..."

"Oh," the Scandinavian shifted her weight a bit, looking away, "well, careful asking things like that," she lowered her voice a bit. "I mean, some girls really wear their marks and scars and such as badges of honour and love to show them off, but... there's quite a few who can be really quite sensitive, too."

"They're ashamed of them?"

"No... no, I don't think so. I mean, don't think there's anyone here who really regrets their decision, I can tell you that much. I think the psych examiners are actually really pretty good at weeding out the women who'd really freak out if a client did something really horrid to them," Sonja shrugged. "But, I think it's just a fairly intimate thing for many here. I mean, you get the perfumier coming around and fingering your pussy before every client," she giggled, "so there's not much you get to keep all that intimate and private."

Kathryn nodded, "I can see where they'd be coming from," she acknowledged, smiling somewhat bashfully, "I'm sorry I asked."

"No-no, it's okay, I'm not really like that. It's just that some new girls can get rather antsy when I tell them, I didn't want to scare you... even though, well, I know that since you're here you're okay by the psych tests and all that and..." Sonja shook her head. "I get like that, sorry. To answer your question, well, it's that I used to be a D-cup and now, well..." she glanced down apprehensively at her flat chest.

"Fuck..." Kathy felt breathless, cheeks blushing. "I-I didn't realise," she gave the woman a sheepish look, "how did it... I mean, what happened, did a client just...?" she paled a little.

"Now that's priveleged information," the blonde teased, "but no, it was a long time in coming. It was a client that... well, I built up a lot of trust with over a long period of time. And, well, if I'm being honest, it's really him, mostly, that I'm still working here for," she explained quietly.

"Crazy," the nude Irish woman whispered, "I mean, not you... just..."

"Mhm. Don't forget, be ready for anything," Sonja reached out, gently stroking Kathy's neck, "you never know when you might meet a guy with the money and the inclination. Could even be your very first. He might just want you to dance naked for him, or he might want to fuck your ass just as much as he might want to watch you fuck an ass, or he could brand you, or cut off your little finger for his collection," she whispered, "or he might do... well, this."

"I know," Kathryn nodded softly. "And there's a throng of butterflies in my stomach right now."

"And the best part of this is... they'll never go away. Not as long as you work here." Her cheeks entirely red now, the Scandinavian blonde stepped back at last. "Anyway, I think there's a few more waiting for me now, so I'll go. But good luck!"

---

"Do you do extra work here too, like Sonja?" Kathryn wondered, nodding toward the perfumier attending to another girl.

Yuna tapped at the leopard, quiet for a few moments. Once more in the photography room but now dressed in the same clinical, white uniform as all the other palace girls, Kathryn had her second scan taken. "Just pose naturally and don't talk now," the Japanese woman replied. "But no, I don't. Newcomers are assigned active hostesses with at least a year of experience to mentor them for the first week or two."

Cameras clicked all around the redhead for a minute or two until the green light blinked back on and she stepped off the podium once more, leaning over Yuna's shoulder to look at her newest spinning image on the computer - this one clothed and looking like a real Kink Palace hostess.

"Wow," Kathryn blinked a few times, "I really am a hostess now," she whispered. "It's incredible, I used to see photos of women dressed like this when I was still a kid..." she mused.

"Hostesses aren't generally late to meet their clients, so let's get going," Yuna chuckled and motioned for the Irish girl to head out instead of staring at her digital image. From the dressing lounge, a large double door opened out into the client areas. The Japanese woman stepped back to look over her new hostess with an approving smile.

"Moment of truth, mm? How do I look?" Kathy bit her lip, spinning around for her mentor.

"Good. I'm sure your client will love you. Last thing," Yuna slipped a digital tablet from the wall and handed it to her. "You've been shown how to use these, right? Keep it on you at all times. It'll tell you everything you need and..."

Kathryn nodded quietly, "Yes, I remember these from basic training. Has price lists, directions through the palace, client profiles..." she smiled, holding the display up. Logging in was simple - just a thumbprint, and she saw the price menu for her own self pop up on screen. Four shiny buttons, each representing a category of its own beside her smiling, animated photo and her name. Seeing the tattoo on her neck in the photo made her reach up to stroke her fingers along the slightly inflamed skin again, shivering.

"I know it's all a lot to take in, but you can daze while with your client, dear," Yuna reminded her, taking the panel out of Kathryn's hands and clipping it onto her belt instead, the screen automatically going black. "Go straight down the corridor here and you'll be in the Courtyard. He's already waiting for you by now, table 3B," the asian woman gave her a brief hug, "take care, Katareena-chan."

---

Artificial sunlight streamed down from the ceiling to cover a large and luscious garden in the centre. The Courtyard was a circular hall, curving concrete supports disappearing up into the ceiling, where a large opening gave the impression of opening up to daylight, even though it was past 10pm in Tokyo. Terraces circled elegantly around that central garden, many with their own bars and small cafes while wooden ramps and steps joined them up to each other.

The Courtyard was as much, if not moreso a social hub as it was a place for clients to meet their hostesses. Nonetheless, every bartender, every barista and every waitress proudly wore the tattooed collar on her neck, signalling without words that they, too, could be bought at a moment's notice and taken to someplace private to be ravished in any way desired. Or even to be taken right there and then.

"Kathryn Kincordie! You look every bit as lovely as your auction photo did," the gentleman grinned, inviting his paid-for hostess over to the table. He was a short, stocky fellow with glasses - surely not even in his thirties yet. From his attire: a businessman. Striped tie, blue shirt, sharp suit and his hair buzzed short, hiding an early-developing bald patch.

Kathryn flashed the man a coy smile, bowing her head slightly, before brushing a few red locks of hair out of the way and slipping into the seat across. "Thank you. And whose pleasure am I..." she chewed on her lip briefly, "well, whose pleasure /am/ I?" the redhead's cheeks flushed just a little as she perused her client. His accent was East-coast American, as far as she could tell. He didn't seem the type to be a high-flying CEO, either, so she put him down as most likely a successful investment banker of some deion.

"Casper Bates," the man replied with a flourish of his martini glass.

"I don't get it."

"What's there to get?"

Kathryn squinted a little, "Well, the name. I mean, as a pseudonym I don't really get what you're getting at. 'Mister Bates', maybe? I mean, 'Hugh Dixon' or something I'd understand. But... Casper?"

The man, whose name indeed was Casper laughed at the comment, looking down into his drink for a moment, "No, no... that really is my name. Pseudonyms - well, folks use pseudonyms here, sure, but it can get kinda inconvenient and there's no real reason to. Kink Palace girls aren't gonna be blackmailing anyone," he shrugs.

"You don't think it would be more prudent? Like, with business rivals and all that?"

"Kathryn, don't trouble yourself too much over this kind of stuff. And suppose I gave you some fake name like... Eddie Balls, or whatever, what if I then decided I liked you so much I wanted to sign off on your butt with ink, hm?" the banker leans forward. "Or maybe give you a brand with my initials. All that fun stuff, would really be kinda counterproductive, don't you think?"

The hostess smiled faintly, "You give out a lot of those?" she mused.

"Only to the girls I really like. And I usually spare the first timers, don't you worry that pretty little brow of yours."

The redhead playfully furrowed her brow a few more times in reply before leaning a little forward, "Well then, what kind of fate awaits me on my first outing... Casper?" she inquired, reaching over for the man's martini glass. He released it with a surprised smile, letting the girl taste the vodka cocktail.

"Probably nothing especially expensive," he laughs quietly, "unless you really manage to convince me - and something tells me you're not gonna be begging to get ruined on your first date. I'm what they call an 'early adopter'. I like fresh goods. I like being first. For now I'm pretty happy just being your first client. Watching a girl take a john for the first time is a pretty special experience - there's lots ways to make sure she remembers you. Not just... defiling, the poor thing."

"Well," Kathryn bit her lip, "you're not really my first john, exactly," the girl admitted, taking a slow sip from from the glass.

"You're shitting me? You worked before this place?"

"Well yeah. I needed the moneys to come to Tokyo in the first place. I did a few odd jobs - working in clubs, dancing and all that. I did kind of want to save myself for the Palace, but... well, then I figured I could use the money and I'd enjoy it anyway, so might as well give it a try. I worked for a few months as an escort in Paris." Kathryn shook the hair out of her eyes, before giving her client an innocent little look, "Is that so unusual?"

"It's not common I don't think. It really isn't common funnily enough. No matter, no matter," the man smiled again. "I'm happy to chat for now anyway. That's the nice thing about the Japanese, they know that the magic's in a good conversation. You don't give a shit about a girl you can't talk to, no offence, but... it's true, right? I don't know if it started with Geishas or what, but what makes this place special for most of us, I reckon, is that you get to know all these lovely girls."

"And then do lovely things to them," Kathryn laughed quietly.

"You laugh, you laugh but it's true. And we, we guys spend more on a girl we know and we like and we're less likely to do the really nasty to shit to them. It works great for all involved." He held out his hand for the martini glass and Kathryn surrendered it with a shrug. "So tell me something about yourself. I know you're from Dublin - my family's from out of there. When I saw you, well, gorgeous little Irish redhead, I knew I had to have you," he smiled. "But what brings you out to Tokyo?"

The girl canted her head, surprised, "Well, the Palace of course. I've wanted to work here since I was little. Probably since I was way too young to be considering doing this kind of stuff. I don't really know why, but it became a bit of an ambition. You know, not that it's my only ambition or anything, but I've spent a while working up toward it," she smiled wickedly.

"A one-track mind, eh? Yes, now that you do share with a lot of the girls here. Given the way you have to put yourself on the line here, it had better be a thing for you. Not for everyone, mind. You do get a fair few who I'm pretty sure just manage to grin and bear it, poor souls."

"I don't think there's many who would genuinely enjoy finding out what it feels to have a knife slice into you. But it's the anticipation, the tension and vulnerability that does you in," Kat lowers her voice as she leans in. "I don't know. Maybe it'll wear off, but for the past few weeks, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't on the biggest high I've had in my life. I love that feeling, even more than I thought I would. The extreme helplessness. The fact that I'm agreeing to be so completely out of control."

"And that's the mark of a real masochist. You'll do great here kid," the man grins brightly.

"So what's your story?"

The banker ran a hand through his cropped hair, "I just like breaking in pretty young things," he laughed quietly.

"Married?" Kathryn pried with a nosy smile, her eyes skirting to the man's ring finger.

"Not on my life, no. Ah, my story's boring as shit. I was a pretty lonely loser in college, but I made good money out of it. Suddenly got popular with the ladies."

"So you decided to become a womanising nouveau-rich asshole with a taste for prostitutes?" Kat teased, evoking only a frown from her partner. "I kid. Hey, I like assholes.

"That's rich, yeah. Given a rimjob before?" her client sighed, his jaw clenching a little - but he soon relaxed, especially as he got around to finishing his drink.

"Mhm. How else would I know that I like assholes?" the redhead straightened her back proudly.

"Yeah. Well, see, like I said, I like firsts. Can't be your first client, pretty damned sure I won't be your first anal fuck, won't be your first asshole either," the man shifted in his seat. "You're a pretty experienced slut by all accounts it seems and you're gonna make me spend more money than I want to at this rate. You ever drank a guy's piss before?"

"I'm afraid so," she blushed.

"Well fuck. The hell am I supposed to do with you? I'm not gonna tattoo you, but it's a fucking waste of auction money to just fuck you and leave you be, too," the banker clenched his teeth.

Her freckled cheeks still flushing, Kathryn slid out her tablet. "Well, er, the menu's pretty extensive. There's a whole lot of stuff I've never done before," she considered as she opened a few of the categories, expanding long menus of kinks and fetishes. "You could buy me a piercing, er, there's a whole bunch of torture options..."

"No-no, the hell do I look like? I don't get off on you all sobbing and screaming all over the place. What else," the client pulled the tablet over, holding it up. His fingers swiped back and forth. "Ah, this is a pretty good deal. Ever done it with a critter?"

"Critter?"

"Animal. You know, donkey. Ever blown a donkey?"

The proposition alone created a lump in Kathryn's throat. She nearly choked, an even deepr flush spilling across her freckles. "Er... no. Not at all. I..."

"Good. That's good, so let's do this," the banker laughed, tapping a few confirmation buttons on the menu. His tone of voice gained a darker streak, one that Kat found gave her shivers, despite her initial reservations as she first met him. "I'm gonna watch you blow a donkey. I've never seen that, so I guess that's a first for the two of us, right? You're gonna get in there and guzzle donkey-cum like a filthy little whore. Then I'll fuck you senseless. Or maybe while you're doing it. Come on, pick a room and do that stuff you do," he pushed the tablet back to the girl. "Time you got to work."

Her fingers were still shaking as Kathryn tapped her own PIN into the device, confirming the booking and the room. "It'll be a pleasure," she looked up with a nervous little smile and carefully pulled herself up to her feet. "Right, um, this way..."

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Re: Desired Outcome : Chinese fantasy Novel

Unread post by admin » 03 Feb 2020 18:40

12 Sadist(Oneshot)


 Mrs Blackwell looked at me with wide and tear-filled eyes as I explained what was going to happen to her. She would come to understand that her body was no longer hers. Instead, it would be mine and she would obey exactly what I commanded her to do.

It is a strange feeling to control someone so completely, to utterly dominate another person, to know that I will get what I want from them, and most importantly, to know that they know.

It is in incredible feeling to look at someone and know you are more devious, more cunning, more logical, more intelligent, and simply more powerful. The moment they understand and break is euphoric to me and that is exactly what makes me a sadist.

Of course, this doesn't have to happen: Mrs Blackwell could go to the police, she could end this immediately and I wouldn't stop her, the only thing keeping her here are her own failings.

"You will strip for me, as I command, and I will take the photos I need. Do you understand Gemma?"

"Y... yes Sir."

"And do you know what each flash of my camera means Gemma?"

Mrs Blackwell's head dropped and she held back her tears as I slowly explained the new reality she was living in.

"N... no Sir."

"It means..." I paused so she would submissively look up at me, "it means everything I see, I own. Do you understand Gemma?"

The distraught woman wiped a tear from her eye as she managed a reply for her blackmailer, "Yes Sir."

"Good girl, stand by the wall."

Slowly Gemma got up from her seat and stood where I pointed. First I turned on my bright halogen lamp and pointed it directly at the scared woman. Then I picked up my large and heavy professional DSLR from the desk and slowly stalked towards her. Her limbs were so tense I could see them freeze as her eyes fixated on the camera.

"Hands by your side."

The woman, 15 years my senior, obeyed quickly enough and looked absent-mindedly into the camera for the first shot. The large flash mounted on top of the camera did its job and caught the image of a trapped housewife desperate for the torture to end, or at least, desperate to know what it would entail.

"Hmmm... I need you to smile Gemma."

My victim shuddered just slightly. She was obviously in no mood to even act enjoyment.

"P....please..."

"Please?" I echoed, but I only needed a raised eyebrow to elicit a response.

"P... please Sir."

"There is no negotiation Mrs Blackwell."

Gemma took a couple of deep breaths and found the strength to look back up at the camera. With wet eyes she finally managed a weak smile and my camera caught her humiliation and dread perfectly.

Over the next hour I cataloged Mrs Blackwell - Gemma - perfectly. As she stripped each piece of clothing from her body she was documented. From sweater to t-shirt, from jeans to panties, each transition was recorded, front and back. It was a record of a new slave entering her new world and showing exactly what she had to offer her new master. Obediently, gradually becoming accustomed to my sharp commands, Gemma posed for me with her hands behind her head, or bent at the waist with her tits swaying obscenely, or with her legs spread wide and awkwardly. My camera would capture everything and with each explicit statue she made for me, she would realise she was mine to do with as I wanted.

Of course, this gradual transition to ownership ends with the climax of the victim's complete nakedness and so, finally, Gemma's body was totally exposed to me. As I ask - or command - a new piece of property to spread her pussy, or her ass cheeks, or hold her tits up for inspection, neither of us can deny the transition is complete: My camera captures a body and a person that is totally mine.

The details of my story are obscene, vile and incredibly illegal. I am the Suburban Sadist.

Suburbia is hell so it should be no surprise it spawned a devil. I grew up in the most boring of neighborhoods: families of 2.3 children; whitewashed houses and immaculate laws; baseball on Saturday; PTA meetings; SUVs and people carriers; and gossip and rumors among the soon-to-be-rich. In essence, all the dead-livingness of middle-America in its modern glory: an incredible sea of boredom and fantasy.

So maybe I was lucky I understood which sexual fantasies would drive me through life. Of course, when you're in high school this isn't the most important question. In fact, it isn't a question to be asked at all. My grades were good, very good, and that would keep me easily below the familial and suburbia radars, but it was my sexual desires that would inhabit and consume my free time. Of course I had the sense to try (and fail) at organized sports and I happily passed time in more useful extra-curricular school activities involved with business or science. But I cannot deny my real passion was something wholly unpalatable to most - most inhabitants of suburbia anyway.

Of course, suburbia keeps secrets. That is what it is designed to do with similar houses, similar families, similar jobs, similar hobbies, and in fact, maybe the same lives. So it was strange when I realized we all keep secrets. I remember, bored with a piece of easy chemistry homework, staring out of my window and seeing a car park opposite my house. The occupant, dressed in a dark blue suit of a style I would later know was common in the city (the place the 'suburbanites' wish to make it rich) left his car and seemed to creep up to the door of number 324. I was fascinated with the doorstep exchange as Mrs Wilk first tried to negotiate with the stranger then finally started shouting. I couldn't make out her words but my heart pumped with seeing a little bit of true passion in this manicured wilderness. The well-suited man kept up his ministrations but Mrs Wilk finally got rid of him. As he left for his expensive car her body language betrayed the meaning of the meeting as she looked desperately for neighborhood witnesses. He was a lover? Or a co-worker? A betrayed relative? But it didn't matter exactly what, her secret was out: she had a secret.

Mrs Wilk was not a beautiful woman but I fantasized about her that night. I imagined I had her secret and that I knew the man in the rich blue suit. More, I had the paperwork that proved her infidelity or her dark secret. It was easy to think of the suburban housewife on her knees in front of me, begging, pleading for me to keep the secret. 'Sure, but take your top off.' 'I won't tell if you won't.' 'Show me your tits Mrs Wilk,' 'I'll stay quiet if you suck it Mrs Wilk.' The fantasies were endless and they quickly got explicit. If I am honest, there has never been any controlling them.

So maybe I was forced by my psyche, my fetish, and maybe I had no control. But critically I turned my desires into action. With the dedication I showed to the periodic table or to American history I turned to my dark desires.

Surveilling a neighborhood is not difficult. If you pretend to do homework for 5 hours a day in your room, if you pretend a telescope is for the stars, if you can sneak out of your house at 1am, if you can take any and all neighborhood pocket money jobs going, and most importantly, if you can keep meticulous notes of everything you see and hear, it's not difficult. I won't deny it was and is an obsession. If you pay $300 for the latest mini-camera, or a piece of software to hack emails, it is certainly an obsession, especially for a high-school boy.

So I got to know people's secrets, or more particularly, women's secrets. Jane Downser at 348 would get as drunk as possible on a Friday night if her husband was away. Sophie Beckels, a girl a year above me, living at 471 had two boyfriends at different schools. Her mother, Anne, had a kid nobody knew about. Tracy Spizfell enjoyed bisexual erotic stories after her family went to sleep. Josie Tress had a past nobody in this suburbia could possibly imagine.

I got this information from the internet with sly little software that would do the job for me. Better still, and more difficult, from awkward conversations at the right moment with friendly neighborhood confidants, or loose talk after I had cleaned gutters and mowed lawns, or little cameras hidden away in the darkest rooms and moments of American suburbia. The information was overwhelming and my spider's web was growing quickly by the end of high school.

I was 18 and attending community college when I finally took the plunge and decided to manifest my desires. Mrs Tiffany Sands was divorced with two children at college out of state. She worked in upper management at a local big business. She was an 'upstanding member of the community', as they say, a member of the neighborhood committee and beginning to get involved with local politics. For the first few years of my research I thought she was spotless - someone without anything to hide, truly a perfect suburbanite. I suppose this was why I concentrated on her so much. I had blackmail material on many other women but I was desperate to prove even the 'best' had a dark past too. It also helped that Mrs Sands was a genuine MILF: a gorgeous mother who it was easy to imagine doing all sorts of dirty stuff with.

I continued gathering evidence about everyone else in the neighborhood but Tiffany became an obsession. It was the greatest day when I finally found a loose thread to pull on. As I was looking through some old files in her house (I had been her gardener for a full 3 years) I found 2 photocopies of checks made out to cash. They were pretty big and from a company called Avecom Media.

I pounced on this tiny piece of information. After searching state records, then country-wide listings I found the defunct company in Miami. It took even longer to find out what the company actually did and it was the greatest success of all my surveillance: softcore porn! The company had long since shut down, there were no tax records for 5 years previous. It took hours upon hours and many long-distance phone calls but I finally found the name of the previous CEO. Another 20 or so hours and I had his current contact information. Anonymously, with a return postal address at a safety deposit box, I contacted this man and inquired whether he had a back catalog. I said I was searching for Tiffany's 2 videos (I had 'forgotten' her last name). I said they were 'always my favorite' and asked whether I could buy the master copies. I offered a check to cash for $1000. This was a huge amount of money, months of yard-work, but I was desperate and hopeful it would help the CEO ignore the legal aspect of my request.

After a full month of waiting I checked my safety-deposit box and my knees nearly crumpled as I saw a package. I rushed home and tore open the bag. It was two VHS tapes with scrawled titles 'Tiffany 94' and 'Tiff 94'. My excitement grew as I rummaged in the attic for a video player. Finally, with everyone out of the house I sat down to watch Mrs Sands' naughty past. Although these master copies were only softcore and grainy with terrible cheesy music I delighted in the sight of Tiffany's younger body, her pouting made-up face and her beautiful tits, ass and thighs swaying to the music. I immediately made 2 copies and tried to relax. Everything I had been working towards for years had come to fruition: I had Tiffany's secret.

What I did next was dangerous. I suppose it was an 'amateur' mistake but I simply couldn't control my desire and rushed into things. Luckily it - mostly - worked out. On a sunny Saturday, knowing Mrs Sands' kids would not be back from college, I rang the doorbell of 397.

"Hello Josh, what can I do for you?"

Immediately my face turned red at the thought of what I was about to do and I stammered an answer, "I... uh... I just thought I'd... er.... like to have a chat."

"Right, well I suppose."

I stood there awkwardly and finally motioned to be allowed in. Tiffany led me to the lounge with a little concern on her face.

"Are you alright? Do you need a glass of water?"

"Err... yes.. err... yes please, thank you," I was grateful for a chance to pause.

My heart thumped in its chest as I watched Mrs Sands walk to the kitchen. The sight of her ass was gorgeous and I knew it was now or never.

Tiffany returned with the glass and sat opposite.

"So what's this about then, you need more gardening work?"

"I.. . umm..." I realized I hadn't thought this through. I couldn't form any words so simply tried to make my actions count. "I think you should have these." I took out a plastic bag from my backpack and put it on the table. Mrs Sands gave a slight smile as she picked it up.

"Very mysterious Josh."

Her face dropped as she pulled out the two video tapes and read the labels.

"Where did you get these?"

"I..."

"Where did you get these?!"

Tiffany's face had gone bright red as she nearly shouted at me.

"Y... you know..."

"I know what they are! Where did you get them!?"

"I... I haven't..."

"You... you haven't.... You haven't watched them? Where did you get them!?" Mrs Sands was now shouting and I couldn't put two words together. I thought I had made the biggest mistake. I looked down as I began twitching with fright.

"Josh! Answer me! Where did you get these!?"

I managed to make eye contact and stutter an answer, "Av... Avecom Media".

"That bastard!"

Immediately Tiffany ripped off the side of the first video and pulled out the tape. She was fuming as she quickly destroyed the second video too. I could only glance up at the disaster I had caused. Finally, satisfied with her destruction, she seemed to calm down a little.

"Did you make copies?"

I couldn't answer.

"JOSH! Did you make copies?"

"I... errr... yes." I was simply shell-shocked, everything I fantasized about was going out of the window.

"Where are they? Where are they Josh?" Although she seemed to have calmed down a little she was clearly desperate for the copies. "Josh, you need to give them to me... right now!" As she said this she got up and stood over me. I felt an inch tall.

"Josh... now! You need to give them to me now."

I nearly crumpled; none of my bedroom fantasies had gone this way. But out of the corner of my eye I saw Mrs Sands' skirt halfway down her toned legs. It was easy to imagine the rest of her body and this gave me a tiny surge of power.

"No," I mumbled.

"What?"

"No... you," I paused for breath, still looking at the carpet, "...you need to give me $2000."

"Is that what you paid for these!?"

"Y.... yes...," but I was so terrified I offered a moment of honesty, "No... $1000."

"So that's it! You want a PROFIT?!" She took a breath, "$2000! You fucking creep! I'm not paying you $2000!"

Tiffany stood silently above me, waiting for an answer, waiting for me to crack.

My mouth was dry and I could hardly speak, "$2000."

Mrs Sands was obviously thinking and didn't respond. I suddenly took the opportunity to try to gain a little power. "$2000 and I'll give you the copies."

"And I'm meant to fucking trust you!?"

I didn't dare look up as Tiffany put the pressure back on me. I swallowed and managed an answer, "Yes."

"You've got them on you?"

"No," I was still looking at the carpet and avoiding eye contact which gave me the strength to push my position, "money first."

"What the fuck!? You little shit!" I stayed silent and waited for her move. "When? When do I get the copies?"

"Tomorrow," I muttered.

"How the fuck can I trust you?"

Silence filled the room as we both waited for me to answer. Finally I found a spark of inspiration: "You can't."

I could hear Mrs Sands exhale deeply, I knew I had shocked her and I pressed my advantage, "I could upload them..."

Tiffany cut me off, "You could fucking upload them to the internet and ruin me. That's your game right?"

Again I stayed silent, desperate that she'd begin to succumb. I knew I'd probably never have the nerve to share the video and this was my only chance: a bluff.

"You want to let everyone see these videos, you want to make sure you make your money otherwise you're going to fuck me!"

I could hardly contain myself at her use of words but kept staring at the floor. A flush of excitement spread across my body knowing that she knew the position she was in.

"I haven't got $2000," Tiffany offered.

I hadn't thought of this. I paused for a second then meekly suggested, "Check."

I could hardly believe it when, without replying, Mrs Sands stormed out of the room. For a second my mind was terrorized, I imagined her going to the police, or even my mother and explaining what I had done. I imagined myself behind bars.

Suddenly a wave of relief washed over me as I heard Tiffany storm up the stairs, apparently to look for her check book. I slumped into my chair and finally managed to raise my head. Looking back, that was the instant I knew I had her. But not only Tiffany, I had all the women of the neighborhood in my spider's web.

I managed to make eye contact with Mrs Sands as she came back into the lounge. A feeling of power came over me as I saw her red face and her check book gripped tightly in her hand. Furiously she began scratching details into the check book.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen," she fixed me with a deadly stare, "you're going to take this check. Tomorrow you're going to give me any copies you made. Then, you're going to forget about all this. I....," Tiffany took a breath, unsure of herself, "I.... I'm sure you watched the videos. You're going to forget that, forget anything you saw. And you're never going to talk to me again." She finished writing out the check and tore it aggressively out of the book.

"And if anybody, ANYBODY, sees those videos, if they're uploaded to fucking Youtube of whatever, If they touch the light of day, you're done." Slowly Tiffany offered the check to me. I could hardly make eye contact as the steamed, "Josh!" I looked up at the enraged woman, "If ANYBODY sees that video, you're done. I will make sure of it. The police? The government? You want to go to jail?"

I couldn't help myself responding to her anger, "N... no."

"Good. If you fucking cross me you will. Do you understand?"

I merely nodded in response.

"Now, take the check, cash it. And what are you going to do tomorrow?" Her eyes pierced into mine as she waited for my humbled response.

"I...," I gulped to hide my real feelings of excitement, "I'll give you the copies."

"And what happens if anyone sees the videos?"

Again she waited for my meek reply, "I.... police."

"That's right. The fucking police and my friends at city hall. Take the check Josh."

I struggled to look at the MILF I had blackmailed. Awkwardly I took the piece of paper and shoved it into my pocket without looking.

"Get the fuck out of my house."

I almost did. Mrs Sands had abused me so much I thought staying any longer was useless. I had never thought she could be like this. But as I looked into her beautiful face, and as my eyes glanced at her beautiful body, I knew I wanted more. I knew I didn't care about the consequences: getting her would be worth it. I took a deep breath and desperately tried to take control, "No."

"No? We're done! Get out of my house." Tiffany obviously couldn't believe this 18 year old was standing his ground. However, she showed weakness when she actually waited for my response.

"You...," this is probably the stupidest thing I have ever said to a woman under my control but I don't mind because of what it got me, "you.... need to make me cum." I already had a boner and my lust gave me the strength to look Mrs Sands directly in the face. She glanced down at my jeans and I desperately kept eye contact when she tried to stare me down.

"Cum? What the fuck! Make you cum!? Are you a fucking idiot? I've given you $2000. You think I'm a fucking slut? Cum? Get the fuck out of my house!" I shouldn't have been surprised that Tiffany finally got physical. She grabbed my collar and pulled me to my feet. "Get the fuck out." She was almost hysterical as she pushed me towards the door of the lounge.

It took all my strength to respond, "Otherwise...," Mrs Sands paused and I knew she realized she had underestimated me.

"You wouldn't dare." Again, but with less force, she pushed me towards the door.

"I would."

My response was almost silent but it stopped Tiffany in her tracks. Her hand relaxed on my collar and her shoulders slumped. I knew then that it was the moment I broke her. With a flush of power in my body I simply repeated my stupid-sounding request, "Make me cum."

"Or you're going to... to send those videos? You're fucking blackmailing me!? You're fucking blackmailing me for..."

She didn't have the strength to finish her sentence and I didn't respond: we both knew the situation. Finally I knew Tiffany couldn't compete with the power I had over her and I started to assert myself. Slowly her grip on my shoulder weakened. A surge of adrenaline rushed through my body as I realised my next move. Quickly I grabbed her hand and pulled it forcefully downwards to my crotch. I pushed her palm up against my jeans and against my cock that was straining against the fabric.

"No," Tiffany tried her hardest to sound strong and her hand twitched away from my jeans. I didn't respond and simply guided her palm back to my crotch. Again, but more weakly Tiffany responded to my physicality, "no."

But I felt the warm buzz of conquest flowing over me. I held her wrist and pushed her hand onto my crotch and repeated the stupid words "Make me cum." I looked Mrs Sands directly in the eyes as I forced her limp hand to roam over my engorged dick. After the shock of the videos from her past and the hastily written check it seemed like I had shattered Mrs Sands.

"No," Tiffany again mindlessly protested. She could have easily pulled away but her hand only moved a couple of inches. Again I pushed her palm into my crotch.

"Make me cum... and you get the videos." I explained simply and gently. Now it was her turn to look into the carpet. It seemed all the fight had gone out of her as I forced her hand up and down my shaft.

"But..."

I ignored her protestations and started to assert myself and fully control the interaction, "5 minutes... 5 minutes and I'm out of our life and you can forget about the videos, and your past" I added menacingly. Tiffany's eyes darted to the destroyed video tapes on the table. I repeated myself, almost in a whisper, "5 minutes."

It was an unbelievable feeling as I felt Tiffany squeeze my cock of her own accord. She had suddenly lost any fight as she freely began stroking my cock through my jeans. I took my hand away and shivered as I contemplated my next move. After a silent minute, slowly, not wanting to upset the now obedient MILF, I reached for my fly. Gently, as Mrs Sands kept up her ministrations, I undid the button and zipper to my jeans. Quickly my cock shot out through the fly of my boxers. With an intake of breath after seeing my erect penis, Mrs Sands quickly took her hand away. I looked at her face for a information but her head was down.

Gently I guided Tiffany through her submission to me and told her what to do, "Stroke it. 5 minutes," I reminded her: 5 minutes and she would be free of her past and of her stupid young blackmailer.

With her last ounce of resistance Tiffany weakly muttered, "No," but at the same time her fingers wrapped around my cock. I could hardly contain my urge to cum.

Slowly, silently, Mrs Sands began rubbing my member up and down. Even at 18 I didn't actually have any experience with girls and the sensation was incredible, my cock-head was coated in pre-cum and it took every muscle to avoid me exploding right there and then.

For about 5 minutes we stood in silence as the beautiful neighborhood MILF stood beside me and slowly jerked the cock of her blackmailer. She seemed inexperienced, nervous and timid as her fingers gently roamed over my shaft and mushroom head. Her head was down and I ignored her sniffling as she obviously tried not to cry. But suddenly her pace increased; slowly her hand gripped tighter and her strokes covered my full length. Gently she whispered in my ear, "Cum..." I realized it for what it was, Mrs Sands trying to regain some control, finish me as soon as possible and put this nightmare behind her.

It was a struggle and it took all my control to realise what she was doing. Desperately I held onto this single orgasm I had blackmailed my beautiful neighbor into. Tiffany increased her efforts and whispered again into my ear, "Cum for me." It almost sounded like she was begging.

I took the opportunity to demand more. I told myself that if she wanted me to cum she would have to earn it. I mustered all the bass in my voice: "Suck it." I didn't let her answer. Instead I simply put my hand on her shoulder. Gently I pushed down and I almost came straight away as Tiffany didn't resist and simply began to lower herself to the floor.

It felt like a dream as I looked down on Mrs Sands on her knees in front of me, my dick pointing towards her face as she reluctantly quickened her handjob. I knew she wanted me to cum as soon as possible and I clenched every muscle to prolong the overwhelming experience. I desperately wanted to feel her lips around my cock so I guided her actions and hoped she was too broken to resist, "Open your mouth."

Mrs Sands only glanced at me before she submissively obeyed. Opening her mouth in front of my cock she slowly lent forwards and wrapped her lips around the end of my penis. Tiffany didn't hesitate as she sucked powerfully on my tip. I didn't know whether that was her natural instinct or whether she simply wanted this blowjob over as quickly as possible but she nearly succeeded and I tensed my loins and exhaled deeply, desperate for just another minute of bliss before my inevitable climax.

Gently Mrs Sands pushed her face into my crotch and the sight of my cock inching into her mouth was delicious. Slowly she pulled back and repeated the process, all the while properly sucking as her tongue slid across my wet penis. I knew I could only hold off for a few more seconds. Gently I placed a hand on the back of the MILF's head: I wanted to fuck her face just like the porn films I'd watched.

Tiffany didn't protest and again she thrust herself forward, so much so that I felt my engorged cockhead hit the back of her throat. Without even thinking my hand pulled her head onto my cock. For a split second I penetrated her throat and that was all it took to push me over the edge. My hips and legs shuddered as my cum exploded into Mrs Sands' mouth. As the first spurt filled her mouth Tiffany immediately gagged and pulled her head back. With wide eyes the mother of two withdrew completely off my spasming cock. I suppose that was a mistake because the next spurt of cum splashed across the MILF's mouth, nose and into the edge of her eye.

I couldn't control the orgasm and my knees shuddered as it ripped through me. The feeling was only increased when Tiffany, seeing how much cum I was going to deposit, quickly wrapped her mouth back around my cock. I don't know whether she didn't want any more on her face, or her clothes, or whether it was just natural for her but Mrs Sands obediently let me deposit spurt after spurt of cum directly into her warm and wet mouth.

After what felt like a blissful eternity my hips and legs relaxed and my dick finished twitching inside Tiffany's mouth. With my last orgasmic gasp the older woman immediately pulled her mouth off my prick. Instinctively she held a cupped hand under her mouth and let my semen sloppily drool out. Her hair was in the way but her shuddering shoulders told me she was certainly disgusted and probably crying.

I stood in shock for a couple of seconds before I realized what I had done. I knew I had to get out of her house as soon as possible. "I'll give you the copies tomorrow," I gasped. Again, I sounded like a stupid teenager and I almost sounded sorry for what I had done. But I wasn't. I didn't care because I had got what I wanted: the beautiful neighbor serving my cock. As I hurriedly did up my trousers Tiffany didn't look at me. Instead she simply hunched over her cupped hand filled with my seed. Without a word I rushed out of number 397 and ran back to my house.

The feeling was incredible! I had done it! My first conquest! A beautiful woman sucking me off to keep me quiet! I came in her mouth! I couldn't believe it. Of course I felt guilty: I had taken advantage of Mrs Sands' past mistake and forced her into a 'sexual act'. Even worse, I selfishly thought, I had done something that could see me go to jail. But it was a turning point: my lust had overtaken my thoughts and I knew this desire would control me.

The next day I didn't give Mrs Sands the copies. Of course I should have. After all, I had got what I wanted. But then I realized I didn't have to: She wasn't going to risk her secret getting out, especially not with a council election 4 months away. Instead I summoned all my courage and called her. I desperately didn't want to hear the voice of the woman I abused yesterday so I tried to control the call.

"It's Josh."

"You fucki..."

I cut her off, "I'm not giving you the copies. You stay silent, I stay silent. Don't worry, they're safe."

With that I hung up and turned off my phone. For the next hours, days and weeks I was terrified of payback. But soon enough, especially when the $2000 check cashed, I realized Tiffany would stay silent. I started to relax and fantasize about other women in the neighborhood.

It was reckless but my conquest that day was defining: it was the start of my life as the Suburban Sadist. Even after all the women I've blackmailed and made into slaves, often my mind returns to those video copies and the beautiful body of Tiffany Sands who still lives at number 397.

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Re: Desired Outcome : Chinese fantasy Novel

Unread post by admin » 03 Feb 2020 18:41

13 A Step In The Wrong Direction (1)
 Caution - This has Netorare.



Dinner was ready; Dave's wife, Jenny, had sent him upstairs to fetch their daughter Sarah and her boyfriend Jake. Sarah had been dating Jake for over a year now; they'd met at college and instantly fell in love. Both were eighteen and their parents trusted them to be mature and responsible; they were in Sarah's room, studying for their final exams.

The door was closed, all was quiet, so he knocked softly on the door, not wanting to startle them. He heard Sarah say "Come in." so he pushed the door open. Dave stopped. Pinned to the wall, the girl he had brought up for thirteen years was naked and wrapped around her tanned boyfriend as he thrust into her. Her eyes were screwed tight, lips forced into a thin pale line as his cheeks clenched and her thighs gripped his waist.

Dave looked on, frozen, helpless, too embarrassed to say anything as his cock responded to the live porn show in front of him, tenting his sweat pants. Sarah came down from her orgasm; head dropping, eyes opening but unable to focus on the man in the doorway who backed out slowly and quietly closed the door.

"Dave!" Jenny shouted from downstairs, "Are they ready? Dinner's on the table."

"Just a sec love." Dave shouted back, "Just been to the loo." He heard scrambling from his daughter's bedroom as they rushed to dress. He knocked on the door, a little louder than before.

"Won't be long Dad." Sarah sounded out of breath, "We're just tidying up our notes."

Without opening the door, Dave said "Okay." and went back downstairs.

During dinner, Dave looked across the table at his daughter; she gave no indication that she'd seen him; no awkward looks or blushes. She'd seen him accidentally in the bath when she was twelve; only his top half, from his chest upwards; but she'd blushed for a week whenever their eyes met. Now though, it seemed like this was just his little secret with himself.

After dinner, they watched TV for a while, Jake stealing furtive glances at Sarah. Jake went home, kissing Sarah at the door as he left. Her cheeks flushed as she turned around and saw her father standing in the hallway. "Serious then?" he joked. "Do I need to buy your Mother a hat?"

"Dad?" She replied, embarrassed, "We've only been seeing each other eighteen months, I don't think we're quite ready for that."

"A year and half? Already? Well I never." Dave said. "We haven't met his parents yet."

"I have. They're nice, but I think Jake thinks that you won't approve of them."

"We're not that bad, are we?"

"Well..." Sarah bit her bottom lip, "They are a little... Unconventional."

"Ahh." Dave nodded, "Unconventional. Are they both little people?"

"No!" Sarah laughed, "They're normal; just not what you'd expect."

"Well that's settled then." Dave clapped his hands together. "My interest is piqued; you invite them here for dinner next Saturday and we'll see just how unconventional these freaks are." Sarah punched her dad's shoulder then hugged him before going upstairs to her room.

"We'll see." She said as she dashed upstairs. Jenny was feeling friskier than usual tonight. Her hands wandered over Dave's body until she found his semi-erect penis. He'd been thinking about Sarah; the way her face scrunched as she came, Jake's cock thrusting into her, pursing her lips in a silent scream whilst her lover took her to the edge. He didn't know what Jenny was thinking as she slipped beneath the covers and took him in her mouth.

Fully erect, Dave turned onto his back as Jenny climbed on top. She kissed him, tongue darting into his mouth as she lined herself up and impaled her slick pussy on his raging hardon. He'd never known her to be this wet before, or, for that matter, this horny. Head back, gasping for air, she grabbed handfuls of chest hair as she rode him through her second and third climaxes, falling forwards, breathless as she felt him swell; his cock falling from her as semen gushed over her buttocks and between her legs.

They lay together, kissing, regaining their strength. Dave hugged her tightly and kissed the tip of her nose. "Wow! What's gotten into you?"

"Just a bit horny love." Jenny replied. "Watching those two all lovey-dovey together reminded me how much I love you." They kissed again; Jenny rolled off the bed and walked out of the bedroom. She absently wiped the cum from her buttock and licked her finger, savouring his saltiness as the bathroom door swung shut.

Dave sat up in bed, bed springs squeaked softly from his daughter's room, followed by a breathless gasp. His mind wandered back to this evening's scene; she looked so much like her mother, especially in the throes of passion. He'd never met or seen Sarah's father; he'd disappeared before Sarah turned five. Jenny met Dave eight months later at a work event and they'd been inseparable since.

Sarah took to Dave immediately, calling him daddy well before Jenny said "I do." in the Little White Chapel in Las Vegas, and he'd always thought of her as 'his' daughter. His feelings were conflicted now though, their bond was strong, but until now, he'd never thought of Sarah as a sexual being. He lay back, thinking of how his daughter had grown, absently touching his hardening member as his wife returned to the bedroom.

"It's getting late love." She said, spotting him stroking his erect cock, she climbed back into bed and snuggled her bum into him. He reached over and caressed her soft breasts; she opened her legs, trapping his cock between her thighs, relishing the feeling of it rubbing her shaven lips as she humped back at him slowly, cum dripping down her thigh as it dribbled from his manhood, finally drifting off to sleep, softened and spent.

Dave dreamed of Jenny; he dreamt of the first time she stood in front of him, breasts bare, nipples hard, begging to be touched. He reached out, staring at them, cupping each one; flicking her nipples with his thumbs. She took a step back and he looked up from her shaven slit, across her flat tummy and pert breasts, his journey of adoration finally resting on his daughter's eyes and soft lips. Sarah lifted her arms from her sides and beckoned him to come closer. He walked into her embrace, his hard cock pressed between their stomachs as their lips met. He took a second to realise that the lips he was kissing were those of his daughter's and he tried to push her away. He woke, sweating, the duvet bunched in his hands, the panic subsiding as his breathing returned to normal.

In the next room, Sarah dreamed of Jake; his hot breath against her neck as she responded to his thrusts. Her legs tightening around his waist as he pushed himself into her and her father watched from the doorway with his cock in his hands. As Jake convulsed within her, she reached out to Dave; her slender fingers stretching out to touch him. Their hands met, Jake ceased to matter, melting away, replaced by Dave as her thighs gripped his waist and she threw her head back, mouth stretched in a silent scream. Waking with the duvet clamped between her thighs, Sarah grinned to herself; she sometimes thought of Dave as she played with herself. "Hell," she thought, "Me and Mum are pretty similar, why shouldn't we be attracted to the same type of men? Or even the same man?" She got out of bed and opened her bedroom door, Dave walked past her on the landing, yawning and stretching, his boxers bulged at the fly and Sarah subconsciously licked her lips. "Morning Dad" she said sunnily.

"Morning Pumpkin." He replied, slightly startled he dropped his hands to save his dignity, but she couldn't un-see what had been seen. She had seen it before though, when she was fifteen; she'd opened the door to the bathroom while her dad was sat on the toilet, his cock in his hands and his eyes screwed tight as he pumped himself towards climax. She felt the familiar tingle in her pussy as her hand snaked under the hem of her nightdress and she felt her wetness. Sarah closed the door and retreated to her bedroom, her finger not leaving her pussy until she'd satisfied herself. That tingle was back as her dad scurried to the bathroom, looking back at his daughter sheepishly as the door closed.

At breakfast, he looked over the table at his daughter, but she was either playing it cool or too embarrassed to look him in the eyes; truth was, she was confused. She loved Jake with all her heart; she felt butterflies in her stomach whenever she saw him; recently though, she felt different elsewhere when she looked at Dave. Last night's hadn't been the first dream she'd had of her step-father; there had been plenty more which had found her waking in a sheen of perspiration and a scratch needing an itch. This was, however, the first time she felt that she needed to act on what her heart and body were telling her; even if the mind knew it was wrong.

She decided to think it over properly; see how she felt in a week or two, and if anything happened after that, it was fate. Dave tried hard to suppress his feelings for Sarah; telling himself that he was Sarah's guardian, her protector and most of all, her father. The feelings he had for her at this moment were morally wrong, and that his attraction to her, was only because she had become a woman, and so like her mother, that it would be impossible for him not to be attracted to her.

For the next week, both Dave and Sarah attempted to return to normal, not knowing each other's internal struggles. Sarah hoped that Dave would walk in through the door again as Jake pounded her; orgasms ripping through as she felt her father's eye's upon her in the doorway. Dave, watching TV with Jenny, found it hard to concentrate as he fought to stay in his seat, desperately wanting to rush upstairs and press his ear against the wall or watch through the keyhole. He didn't notice Jenny absently stroking her labia through her panties as she listened intently for her daughter's muffled screams.

That night, and every night after Jake visited Sarah, Jenny would go to bed horny and in need of hard cock. Sarah had told her mother about what her boyfriend's wondrous penis did to her. At first, Jenny thought it was just Sarah's infatuation with him; thinking that Jake was her first; he hadn't been, but he had been her biggest. Jake had reached places that the other boys could only dream of; had taken her to heights of pleasure she had never experienced before. Sarah, having seen the outline of Jake's penis through his shorts as it hung down his leg, could only imagine what it looked like in the flesh. "Jake's father must be pretty well endowed himself." she thought, "Black men usually are."

Saturday came; Jake's father knocked on the door and Jenny answered. "Good evening," he said, holding out his hand, "We're Jake's parents." Jenny took the hand, shocked.

"C... Come in." She stammered. "Pleased to meet you." Jenny stepped back, taking their coats and kissing cheeks as they filed past. Jake looked embarrassed, his dark skin a stark contrast to the paleness of both his parents.

During dinner the conversation flowed like they'd been friends for years; there was no mention of Jake's obvious mixed heritage until the kids retired upstairs to study. Talk faltered as Jenny tried to address the elephant in the room. "S... So, how long have you been married?" She finally asked, hearing the door lock upstairs.

"Eighteen very happy years." Brian, Jake's father answered, "You two?"

"Oh, we've been together for thirteen." Jenny said, her confidence returning. "Dave is my second husband. Sarah's father ran off when she was five." Dave smiled back at Brian.

"We've only been married the once." Nicole, Jake's mother said, "You couldn't live without me, could you sweetie?" It was Dave's turn to smile at Brian, who was blushing.

"So." Jenny asked awkwardly, "Did you adopt Jake?" Dave's jaw dropped, Brian and Nicole grinned.

"What the...?" Dave mouthed at his wife.

"Oh no!" Nicole said, her face lighting up. "He's all mine." Dave and Jenny looked at Nicole with disbelief.

"We went to Jamaica on our honeymoon." Brian started to explain. "Nicky here has a penchant for black studs."

"And I thought I'd give Bry a little treat, while I got myself a big one." Nicole's grin spread from ear to ear. "He had fantasies of being cuckolded, so I made it come true. Nine months later we were in the delivery room taking bets on the baby's colour, you were ever so randy that week love, but that black sperm just beat you to it."

"And she doesn't know which one knocked her up, do you sweetie?" Brian said happily.

"Not a clue love. It could have been any one of them. Four in one night, Brian tied to a chair while they all had their way with me. Every night that week I was on my back with someone plugging away in one hole or another. I was so sore on that flight home." The thoughts that ran through Dave's mind were disturbing. He stared; slack-jawed, as Nicole rattled off her experience. "Had my tubes tied after Jake was born. They'd done some damage, and I didn't want another ruining my fun."

"So, you're still..." Dave cleared his throat, "active?"

"Oooh yeah!" Nicole said, surprised. "I don't ever want to stop. As long as it's clean, long, thick and black, it's always got a place in me. And Brian loves clean up duty." Brian's smile was nearly as wide as his wife's.

"Does Jake know?" Dave asked.

"He found out the hard way." Brian's smile faltered. "He came home early from school and found me in the kitchen making a cup of tea, while his mother was fucking a black stud upstairs. He's come to terms with it, sort of."

"It's like an addiction." Jake's voice cut through the tension from the doorway. "Me and Dad just have to live with it. You know, once you go black and all that jazz." Sarah stood behind Jake, her hair was dishevelled, his softening cock was pushing at his trouser leg; Jenny tried not to stare, her eye's darting to the impressive length, there wasn't any wonder why her daughter's hair was so messed up.

"Tonight has been lovely." Nicole said, standing up. "We must do it again, if these two lovebirds decide to stay the course."

"Definitely." Dave said, kissing Nicole farewell, "It's been a pleasure."

They waved from the front door as Jake and his parents drove away. "Definitely unconventional." Dave said as he hugged Sarah's shoulder. He thought he detected the scent of his daughter's recent activity, but it could have been his wife's arousal as she pressed herself against his back, waving her a hand over his shoulder; the air was thick with pheromones.

Sarah turned, Dave's hand dropped from her shoulder and brushed past her stiff nipple, she felt a tingle in her pussy as a spark from leapt from his fingertip, electrifying her senses and causing her to shudder. They looked at each other, Dave saw hunger in Sarah's eyes; it seemed like a lifetime, but the spell was broken by Jenny, playfully slapping her husband's bum. "I am well and truly bushed." Jenny said, turning towards the stairs. "I'm off to bed."

"I'll lock up down here and I'll be with you in a sec." Dave said, reaching past his erection for the keys in his pocket.

"I'll check the windows are closed." Sarah said, glancing at her father's keys and the prominent bulge in his trousers below them.

Dave saw his daughter's look; he looked down at her breasts, covered only in a t-shirt, nipples testing the cotton and his resolve; daring him to reach out and touch them. His hand gripped his keys, the sharp metal digging into his palms as she walked away, her shapely behind swaying hypnotically. Doors and windows locked, she caught up to him on the stairs and kissed him good night, his hand resting on her hip momentarily, both of them fighting the urge to kiss again, not only fearing that the other would reject them, but afraid they would lose control. "Honey!" Jenny called from the bedroom, "Are you coming to bed? I'm lonely." Sarah and Dave parted guiltily; he patted her bum as she hurried to her bedroom.

"Night princess." He whispered.

"Good night Dad." She blew him a kiss; he caught it, and then disappeared into his own room smiling.

"Anything I should know about?" Jenny asked curiously.

"I thought you knew everything." He said, sliding into bed next to his naked wife. She slid underneath the covers, finding him already hard; she licked his length and rolled a condom on.

"We have to be careful this week." She said, impaling herself on his covered cock. It might have been her imagination, she could have sworn he was bigger; but she was thinking about Jake as she came. Sarah thrust her one year anniversary present, a silicone cast of her boyfriend's erect cock inside herself, as her mother tried not to scream out Jake's name on the other side of the thin wall.

As the week wore on Sarah's exams loomed large and sex was the last thing on her mind; revision began in earnest, both parents helping as much as they could. Jake, his own exams to study for, came around less; both daughter and mother missed him being around, although Sarah had something with which to physically remember him by.

It was while Sarah was at college, taking an exam, that Jake called round. "She's not in, Jake." Jenny said. She'd finished work early and wasn't expecting visitors, dressed only in pyjama bottoms and a light camisole which showed off her impressive bosom. "Do you fancy a cup of tea?" She asked, surprising herself as the words tumbled from her lips.

"Sure." Jake said, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary, although he'd never been alone with Sarah's mum before. He stole glances at her breasts, unhindered by her bra, as they swayed beneath the sheer fabric whilst she brewed the tea. Sat next to her at the breakfast bar, he could see her nipples pushing at the thin material. As he lifted the mug to his lips, she took the opportunity to look at his crotch and found herself reaching out to put a hand on his leg.

"Wha..." Jake said, but realised that she wasn't listening; Jenny was too busy stroking his impressive length through his jeans. She stood up from the stool, standing between his legs, his mouth open in shock as she kissed him. He kissed her back; their tongues duelling as she fumbled with his belt. He raised a hand and tentatively squeezed her breast, feeling the nipple harden under his thumb. She gasped as he tweaked it, finally freeing his belt; she yanked his button fly open and pulled him to her. Standing, his jeans fell to the floor and she followed them, kneeling before him as his cock yearned to be free of his boxers. She yanked them down and he had a second to stop her as she looked up at him, her eyes almost pleading for him to say "No, I can't, your daughter is my girlfriend!" But the lust resurfaced before he could say a word.

With a hand gripping his shaft, she ran her tongue around his bulbous head. He shivered as her tongue touched his balls, and then travelled his length before swallowing him. Jake was longer than Dave, but not quite as thick; he nearly lost control as Jenny easily deep-throated him, her lips over half way down his shaft and her hand massaging his balls. After less than a minute, he couldn't go on; he grabbed her hair as she squeezed base of his cock, making sure he didn't choke her with his monster; spurt after spurt of semen hit the back of her throat, forcing her to swallow, or be drowned in a torrent of cum.

She removed his cock from her mouth, licked her lips as she stood up and grabbed his hands. "Quick!" She whispered, pulling him towards the stairs, he stepped out from his puddled jeans and followed, dumbstruck as she led him to her bedroom. At the edge of the bed she kissed him, pushed down her shorts and embraced him tightly, relishing in the feeling of his penis growing between them. Jenny sat on the bed and pushed herself backwards; leaning back and opening Dave's bedside drawer, she retrieved a condom, bunching it in her clenched fist as Jake's tongue tasted her and flicked her clit. Her back arched as she came, the condom tumbled to the floor, he crawled up her, kissing her body, suckling on her nipples, cock teasing the entrance to her womanhood.

"Fuck me!" She whispered urgently; his cock slid easily into her defenceless pussy and she cried out as it touched her in places her husband failed to reach. On his inward thrusts, she felt like it had no end, she came in a cacophony of breathless screams as his pace quickened. He rose from her, lifting her legs, her ankles on his muscular shoulders as he thrust deeper into her. "Oh! God! Yes!" She cried as she felt his cock swell, filling her with semen and a sense of dread; the unused condom came in to view as she turned her head to the side.

Releasing her legs, she locked them behind him, keeping him pinned inside of her as his cock spasmed gently. When he finally pulled out, she felt so deliciously naughty as she felt his cum ooze from her pussy and between her bum cheeks; she giggled to herself and looked at the clock, Sarah would be home soon, they needed to act fast. She pulled her pyjama shorts back on and ushered Jake out of the room; on her way to the stairs, she ducked in to Sarah's room and grabbed her spare exam timetable, thrusting it in to Jake's hands she said "Use this." He folded it and put it in his pocket.

She kissed him on the cheek, her hand resting on his bottom as he left the house, turning to look at her as he reached the gate and the front door closed slowly. Her heart was racing as she turned, back against the wall, she slid down and hugged her knees; feeling the wet patch spread between her buttocks as Jake's cum still flowed from her. "How hard did that boy cum?" She said to herself, reaching down to touch her swollen labia, "I can't let that happen again." But she already missed the feeling of Jake's cock plundering her pussy. She stood, stripped off her cum soaked pyjama bottoms and cami top, placed them in the washing machine, then went back upstairs for a long, hot shower.

Drying herself in the bedroom, she spied the discarded condom on the floor. Her thoughts went back to the feeling of Jake's tongue on her clit as she bent down to pick it up. She placed it back in the packet, thinking that she should get some of her own, just in case it wasn't a one-off and that Dave would notice more than a couple missing. "Wow!" She thought. "It's only happened once, and here I am planning a whole series of sessions with the boy. Pull yourself together Jennifer!" With the condom at the forefront of her mind, she started to panic; she'd forgotten where she was in her cycle, and with that much cum, Jake had surely knocked her up if he'd caught her at the wrong time. Dashing to her side of the bed, she yanked open her bedside drawer and retrieved her diary. Flicking through to this month's calendar, she noticed the red star she used for the expected start of her period and exhaled; it was due in a week and the chance of her getting pregnant by a boy nineteen years her junior, was slim. She dressed, threw her laundry in the washing machine, and rinsed away the evidence of her excesses.

Jake didn't come around that night; Sarah supposed that it was the stress of exams, Jenny supposed, rightly, that he was embarrassed, not wanting to face both women together, afraid of what would happen should the truth reveal itself. He sent Sarah a text message saying he was tired and that he'd see her tomorrow. She went upstairs to console herself with her toy; Jenny said she felt tired too, so took herself to bed. Dave, at a loose end, turned on the TV, then crept quietly upstairs when he heard the bedroom doors close, and pressed his ear to his daughter's door. He could hear Sarah groaning softly; he'd seen the dildo before, sorely tempted to sniff and even lick it; he resisted temptation, leaving it where it was. Now, with only the wood of the door between himself and Sarah, he imagined her impaling herself with the hard rubber.

Another noise caught his attention; a familiar buzzing noise, but not from behind Sarah's door, this was coming from his own bedroom. Reluctantly, he left his daughter's door and tiptoed towards the noise. Their bedroom door was ajar and he could see his wife in the middle of the bed, her hand frantically working her vibrator between her outstretched legs. He was about to creep in and join her, when she whispered coarsely "Ooh, Jake." At least he thought it was her; it could have been Sarah, he wasn't sure. Confused, he decided to leave it, creeping back downstairs to watch TV.

Jake didn't show up the following night either, which wasn't out of the ordinary, but Jenny was starting to think that she'd ruined her daughter's relationship. She made love to Dave that night, but she was thinking of Jake as she came; the way his cum was forced into her deepest recesses as he flooded her womb. Dave was none the wiser; he had decided that what he'd heard last night was just a trick of the acoustics, that his daughter had whispered the words while she played with the toy she thought was secret.

Sarah was home alone, her head in her books and her parents at work when the doorbell rang. She walked halfway down the stairs, expecting to see Mormons through the fanlight window above the door; instead she saw the top of Jake's head. Rushing the rest of the stairs, she yanked the door open and embraced him, kissing him deeply. He had come to confess his fling with her mother, but with her tongue in his mouth and her pert breasts pushing into him, all he could think about now was Sarah. She pulled him upstairs, undressing each other before falling naked on the bed. She screamed out Jake's name as the penis which had last given her mother the most intense orgasm of her life, did the same to her, only this time his cock was sheathed in latex.

Jenny had been home for about twenty minutes. Walking through the door earlier, she was about to announce her arrival when she heard her daughter scream her lover's name. She felt instantly jealous, then ashamed and guilty as she remembered that the man currently pleasuring her daughter was actually her daughter's boyfriend and not her own. It seemed as though he was using the timetable she'd given him to avoid her; which was how he should be using it, given her current state of mind; but it wasn't how she wanted him to use it. Distracted, she dropped the pan she was holding; the noise upstairs stopped abruptly as it clattered on the tiled floor and a few seconds later a worried voice called "Mum?" from the top of the landing.

"It's just me Honey!" Jenny called back, "Is Jake staying for dinner?" There was a brief, hushed conversation before Sarah answered yes; Jenny smiled to herself. Dave came home to the three of them sat around the table; Jenny, sat opposite Jake, stood up and bustled to the kitchen, taking food from the oven and warming vegetables in the microwave. Dave shook Jake's hand and kissed Sarah's cheek before sitting opposite his daughter. Jenny set the food on the table and then sat down to eat.

During dinner, Jake tried to avoid eye contact with Jenny, looking mostly at his plate, even when she accidentally stroked his leg with her foot. He did look at her when her foot made its way slowly and deliberately up his leg, lingering near his crotch before making its way back down. She licked her lips as he looked into her eyes and he felt his cock rising; blushing, he broke her gaze and tried to concentrate on his food.

As they finished, Jenny gathered the plates and asked Jake to help her. He stood, taking the bowls and flatware, and followed her into the kitchen. Halfway in, he stopped; she was loading plates into the dishwasher, bent over suggestively, the tops of her hold-ups showing beneath her short skirt. "Jenny, don't." He whispered. She looked behind her and pulled her skirt up around her waist, showing her bare pussy; he groaned as his cock responded to her show. She straightened up, letting her skirt fall back in place; she turned and took the bowls from him, touching his hands as she did so.

"Sarah is out all day tomorrow, Dave is at work. Come see me!" She pleaded, although it sounded to Jake like an order. "Tomorrow afternoon!" She looked into Jake's eyes, he couldn't turn her down, he nodded, she smiled, his cock twitched.

__________

The next morning Jenny saw Sarah and Dave out of the door and donned her running gear. The tight Lycra showed off every curve, the top required no bra and she'd not worn panties, using talc instead, wanting to keep clean lines and avoid chafing. She jogged to the supermarket and walked up the healthcare aisle, taking her time to select what she needed. Choosing the same brand she used with Dave, in case they were discovered, she decided against ribbed or flavoured for the same reason, finally choosing a pack of three as they would be easier to conceal. She paid for her purchase at the chemist counter, tucked the change and her condoms into the small zipped pocket of her running top and jogged home.

As she turned the corner of her street, she saw Jake at her front door, finger poised over the doorbell button, contemplating whether or not to push it. She reached her gate as his hand dropped and he turned, surprised to see her standing behind him, the outline of her sex plainly visible through the tight shorts. His cock betrayed him; he had meant to leave, resolving to only come to Sarah's house when her mother wasn't in, but here she stood, her body begging to be touched, tasted, ravished. The bulge in his trousers grew painfully erect as she stepped forward and touched him. His resistance vanished as she deftly unlocked the door without her hand leaving his jeans.

Once inside she kissed him hungrily, he reciprocated readily, his hands wandering over her firm buttocks, pulling her into him. She broke the kiss and took his hand, leading him upstairs.

She took the condom packet from her pocket and tossed it on the bed before pulling her top over her head and freeing her breasts. Jake pulled his t-shirt off and stood behind her, cupping each magnificent breast, kissing her neck and earlobe. He tweaked each hard nipple, causing her to gasp. With her hands on his, she persuaded him to go lower; his fingers teased the waistband of her shorts as he slowly rolled the fabric down over her firm arse. With the shorts rolled halfway down, he turned her around and kissed her full on the lips; she opened her mouth and they kissed deeply, her hands caressing his body as he unfastened his jeans. He kicked off his shoes, stepped out from his jeans and, taking her hand, he lowered Jenny down to sit on the edge of the bed.

He kissed her again, resting his hands on her thighs as he knelt down, his lips kissing from mouth, to neck, to nipple. He flicked her hard nubbin with his tongue, his hands moving around the rolled down waistband of her shorts; she laid back, lifted her hips and he removed the last barrier between them. With his head between her legs, he drew a line up her slit with his tongue; her period had finished a day or two before and she hadn't shaved; his tongue tickled as it rasped up the short hairs on her pussy. He licked her slowly, taking his time, savouring her taste, the tip of his tongue finding its way between her lips as her juices mingled with his saliva, lubricating her in preparation for what was to come. Before that though, his tongue found her clit; she tensed as he teased her pleasure button, licking and sucking until she was grabbing handfuls of his hair and crying out his name, begging him not to stop.

As she lay there panting, he kissed his way back up her body until their tongues were entwined; tasting herself on his lips. She rolled him onto his back and kissed him; her hand traced its way down to his marvellous penis and her head followed. Taking him in her mouth, she swung her leg over his chest and backed her dripping pussy to his waiting mouth. Using his finger to tease her clitoris, his tongue delved into her depths. He ran his tongue over her puckered asshole, causing her to shiver. She lost her concentration, not wanting him to cum yet, but desperately wanting him to get her off; she could tell he was close, his hips were moving urgently, but she was closer. With his fingers and tongue thrusting into her, his cock fell from her mouth as she cried out again.

On her back, catching her breath, Jake crawled up to her; she sat up and kissed him, then pushed him backwards into the middle of the bed. Straddling his legs, she unwrapped a condom, rolled it onto his stiff cock and impaled herself on him. He was only half way in when her first orgasm hit; with him fully inside of her, she felt as though she was crashing from orgasm to orgasm. She gripped his shins as she rode him; he held her waist, reaching up to squeeze her breasts as she fucked him. Jenny collapsed on top of Jake as her last orgasm ebbed, fully aware that he hadn't yet cum.

She climbed off him and moved to the top of the bed, head in the pillows, her swollen pussy presented to him; he entered her carefully, starting slowly and building up speed as she urged him to fuck her harder, faster; driving her into the pillows as he grabbed her waist and with one last push, both lovers came together.

Exhausted, they lay together on the bed, neither one speaking, both looking into each other's eyes. Jenny reached out and touched Jake's face; he kissed her hand, his own caressing Jenny's breast. His cock was hard again, she felt the itch in her pussy that needed scratching; she stripped off the old condom, rolled on a fresh one and this time they made love.

It was late afternoon when Jake left; they'd fucked in the shower before she sent him home, clean, but thoroughly spent. As she tidied up the bedroom, she made a mental note to buy more protection; three just wasn't enough, especially if this was going to be a regular occurrence. Dave's arrival woke her from her daydream; he called out as the door swung shut. "I'm upstairs!" She shouted; seconds later he bounded into the bedroom and embraced her, kissing her lips and squeezing her bum. Guilty feelings swept through her, along with a rush of adrenaline as she kissed him back; she couldn't believe how horny she was, especially after this afternoon's activities. He slipped the robe from her shoulders, admiring her lithe form as she undressed him and pushed him onto the bed. Grabbing protection from Dave's bedside drawer, she suited him up and sat astride him; her slick pussy easily accepting her husband's girth. As she rode him, Jenny imagined Jake's mother, a black man between her legs while another pounded her arse; she came, hard, falling forward, Dave thrusting into her from below. She came again, this time she thought of Dave holding her, while Jake filled her pussy from behind; her voice caught in her throat as her orgasm peaked, she felt like her heart had stopped, cunt muscles contracted and milked Dave's cock, her womb trying to suck his sperm through the rubber.

They lay together, panting; Dave wondered what had gotten into his wife, not knowing that it had gotten into her four times already, and she was busy planning more. For the next few weeks Jake tried to balance his love for Sarah with his lust for Jenny; visiting Jenny when the coast was clear during the day, and seeing Sarah when he could muster the strength in the evenings. Jenny tried not to make things awkward when Jake was around with Sarah, but she was insatiable when she was alone with him; using her leave days from work to stay home when Sarah was in school, being careful not to let her daughter and husband suspect anything by dressing for work in the mornings. She bought her condoms in bigger boxes, although not so large that she couldn't conceal them in her underwear drawer; but while Jenny's protection use exploded, Dave and Sarah's started to wane. Dave sometimes caught Jenny while she was still horny from her lover's visits, earning him a quickie before Sarah came home; Sarah had to coax Jake's cock into life before he'd fuck her, and his performance with her had been lacklustre lately.

One morning, feeling neglected, horny, and thinking the house was empty, Sarah decided to take care of herself. Recalling her most delicious dream, she thought of her step-father watching from the doorway whilst she worked her lubricated dildo into her pussy. She found that her orgasms were much more intense when she imagined that her father was watching her play with herself; she didn't know he was in the house, nor that he was walking up the stairs as she cried out "Oh god, Dave!"

Thinking that something was wrong, he vaulted the last few stairs and rushed into Sarah's room. She looked up as the door swung open and her father stood there motionless. It was the final push she needed to take her over the edge; he was rooted to the spot as her orgasm hit, her face contorted and chest heaving as she looked into his eyes. He shook his head, clearing the fog which had descended and narrowed his focus to that of his daughter at her most intimate and open of moments. Embarrassed, he turned and left the room, meaning to enter the bathroom when his step-daughter caught up to him; she touched his elbow, stopping him in the hallway; he couldn't turn around. "I'm so sorry love." His voice was shaky. "I should have knocked. I didn't know. I'm so..."

"Dad, stop!" She said quietly, squeezing his elbow. "Please look at me."

"I can't." He said, but she stepped in front of him; he tried not to look at her glorious nakedness; she noticed the reason why he couldn't turn around. She placed her hand on the bulge in his trousers; he flinched and looked into her eyes, holding her gaze as she traced his length with her finger. He was confused until she stood on her tip-toes and kissed him, arms around his neck, she pulled herself up, pressing her bare breasts into him and encircling his waist with her legs. His hands found her naked buttocks, feeling her soft flesh, his resolve melted and he kissed her back. The girl he had known as his daughter for the last thirteen years; the girl who had called him daddy since she was five years old, was kissing him hungrily, begging him to take her, wanting him; needing him. He couldn't refuse her.

Hands kneading her buttocks as her tongue fought with his; he took Sarah into her bedroom and laid her on the edge of the bed. She released his neck, reclining on the soft duvet as he kissed her thighs and down her legs to her ankles; then kissing all the way back up to her shaved slit. His tongue teased her open, probing and exploring; tasting her nectar while she writhed on the bed. Sucking on her engorged clitoris, she grabbed at the duvet and dug her heels into Dave's back as she shook through the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced.

Dave came up for air; he shed his clothes, his erection proudly before him as he stood. With her feet at the edge of the bed, she pushed herself backwards and reached out to him; he took her hand and knelt between her legs, bending to suckle on her prominent nipples. He wondered if he'd taken things too far, until she passed him a condom; she obviously wanted to take it further, and he didn't want to disappoint his little girl.

On his haunches, he tore open the packet and rolled the thin latex down his thick shaft before tasting his way up Sarah's perfect eighteen year old body. He kissed the hollow of her neck as she reached down and placed him at the entrance of her slick pussy.

This was it, the point of no return; he looked into her eyes, the naked hunger in them confirmed that she not only wanted this, but craved it; he entered her slowly.

She felt momentarily guilty, but it passed as her body accepted him. She thought of the times he'd pushed her on the swing, the time he'd given his ice-cream to her when she'd dropped her own, the Halloween costume he made for her when her mother was sick, and the volcano they'd made together for the science fair. She felt her orgasm build; reaching a crescendo as she thought of Dave watching her as Jake pinned her to the wall. She locked her ankles around her stepfather's back, urging him deeper as she felt him swell; her own orgasm hitting hard as he filled the barrier between them.

He stayed within her, she hugged him tight as they shifted positions; with her on top, she felt in control, his softening cock trapped in her. She rose, helped, in part, by his hands on her firm breasts, caressing the soft flesh and tweaking her hard nipples. She rocked in his lap, feeling him grow again inside her, filling, stretching her until she threw her head back and came in earnest. He held on to her thighs as she slammed down on him, her pussy milking his cock, she cried out as she came.

Still hard, still inside her, he sat up and kissed her; a bead of sweat travelled from the nape of her neck, slowly down her back as he grasped her taught buttocks and picked her up. Laying Sarah on her back, with her head over the edge of the bed, she felt as though he were driving his throbbing member through her. He picked up speed, she groaned with every thrust, raising her knees to her chest, allowing him deeper as he thrust into her. She heard a whimpering, not realising is was herself until her breath caught and her orgasm exploded as Dave added a second load to the condom.

He collapsed backwards, his head on her pillow; she put her fingers on her pussy lips, they were swollen, tender and oh so hot. She shifted on the bed; laying next to her step-father, the man who had taken care of her for thirteen years, and the man who had just given her the most exciting sexual experience of her life, she laid her head on his chest. His heart raced; the post-coital bliss masking the enormity of their recent actions as he hugged her to him, feeling her warmth next to him. They lay together, kissing and stroking as lovers; they parted with a kiss, then Sarah disappeared into the bathroom for a shower. Walking into his own bedroom, he noticed that the bathroom door was ajar; he resisted the temptation to enter, although the thoughts of what could happen if he did had made him hard again. Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he waited until Sarah was finished in the bathroom to have his own shower, although he neglected to lock the door.

In her bedroom, Sarah picked the discarded wrapper off the floor and tossed it into her waste bin. She heard Dave enter the bathroom, but didn't hear the lock engage; thinking that she'd give it five minutes before sneaking in to surprise him, she donned her robe and opened her bedside drawer to retrieve another condom. The packet was empty; she sighed, then thought her parent's might have some. Entering their room, Sarah decided to look in her mother's bedside cabinet first. Opening the top drawer, she found nothing except for her mother's vibrator, a half used bottle of lube and a box of paracetamol. She opened the second drawer and was startled by her mother's voice, "And what do you think you're doing, young lady?"

Sarah's heart was pounding, but not as hard as her mother's. Sarah thought on her feet, "Just looking for ankle socks mum. I can't find mine." Both women relaxed, their secrets safe. They jumped when Dave entered the room; Sarah hurriedly fastened her robe, but not without giving Dave a quick flash of her breasts. She grinned at him.

"Can one of you two start dinner while I grab a shower?" Jenny said, distracted. She was feeling tired; having to put more effort in at work to cover the days she was spending with Jake. She couldn't go on at this pace; but she didn't want to slow down either. She was addicted. The adrenaline rush, the thrill of getting caught, the fact that a man nearly half her age lusted after her; she just couldn't get enough.

Dave set the table, Sarah made dinner; a very nice spaghetti carbonara, but Jenny was too preoccupied to taste it. She sat next to Dave at the table, across from Sarah; Dave and Sarah exchanged knowing glances occasionally, but Jenny never noticed. As much as she wanted to carry on seeing Jake, she had to take a break before she crashed and burned, ruining everything.

The next Saturday, Dave had to work and Sarah volunteered at her local charity shop. Jake had told Sarah that he was busy; he'd got a job at a garage and they needed him that day, so Sarah said she'd work the whole day at the shop. Jake knew that Jenny would be alone, so he was disappointed when he received a text from her that said she was having a spa day at the gym. He knew which gym she went to, and knew she didn't like their spa; the women were too gossipy, and too much relaxation loosened her lips. Having lied to Sarah about the garage to spend the morning and afternoon with Jenny, he was afraid that she was getting cold feet; he hadn't been with her for four days.

All Jenny needed was some "Me time"; a nice leisurely swim in the pool and a relax in the sauna with no-one to bother her. She went at the quietest time, just before lunch; the gym was almost empty, only the die-hard gym bunnies were in attendance, most of them using the weight machines. She used a treadmill next to the window which overlooked the pool, waiting for the serious swimmers to finish, and the daily gossip crew to catch up with the local news, before she left for the changing room.

She'd opted for a two-piece swimsuit which just about met club regulations; her one-piece suit made her uncomfortable in the sauna, the male lifeguard watched her every movement, and she was sure she caught him adjusting himself as she lowered herself into the cool water. She kept her eye on him as she swam across the pool towards him, preferring backstroke as she swam away. She could see he was becoming uncomfortable, shifting in his seat, agitated as blood rushed to his private parts. She teased him with a few more lengths of the pool. As she finished her swim, she hoisted herself out of the water; with nobody left to guard, the lifeguard made a swift exit.

She smiled to herself as she rinsed in the poolside shower, took a towel from the rack and walked the few steps to the steam room door. The hot air billowed around her as she entered the room; the steam thick and humid. She walked to the back of the room, placed her towel on the wooden bench and reclined against the wall. The door was shrouded in mist; the outside world ceased to matter. Finally alone with her thoughts, she started to think of how she could end this affair without her daughter getting hurt too much. She knew that Jake wasn't the right man for her daughter with him being so easily swayed by her; if it hadn't been Jenny, it could have easily been another woman, and she didn't want that for Sarah, but how could she let her know without putting herself in the frame?

Her peace was shattered as she heard the steam room door swing open and footsteps made their way towards her. Jake appeared, dreamlike through the fog; her heart fluttered, her mind screamed "Don't do it!" but she was already on her feet and embracing him. They kissed, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of her swimsuit as his hands grabbed at her arse cheeks.

"I thought you were avoiding me?" He asked.

"I just needed some time to myself." She said, "It's only been four days?"

"I know but I missed you." He looked into her eyes. "I missed this." He pulled her to him and they kissed again. She could feel herself becoming aroused as his hands made their way underneath the tight fabric of her swimsuit and caressed her soft flesh.

"Not here!" She panicked, "We can't do it here! Someone might come in!"

"The place is empty." He said, easing the waistband over her hips. She kissed him, her tongue darting into his mouth. He took it as a signal to take it further, pushing her pants down her legs. She stepped out of them and stepped up to the higher bench. Sat facing him, legs open, inviting him; he knelt on the lower bench and tasted the subtle saltiness of her pussy. She stroked his head as his tongue lapped at her juices, flicking her sensitive clit; his fingers worked her pussy, beckoning her towards climax. Her breath was quick and shallow, her shoulders tense as she came, holding the back of his head, covering his face with her cum.

She moved to the lower bench, next to him, untying his shorts as he sat and she tasted herself on his lips. She pulled his pants down, his monster springing free; she took him in her mouth. It felt so dangerous; they could be discovered at any moment; a boy being seduced by a woman nearly twice his age in a public area. He couldn't take any more; blowing his load down her throat, she swallowed every drop.

He was still seated at the edge of the bench; she wiped her lips with the back of her hand and, with her back to him, she lowered her pussy onto his hard cock. She'd forgotten how good it felt to take him bare, but she reckoned she was safe as she eased herself onto him. He held her waist, his hands moving up to cup her firm breasts; enjoying the sensation of her pussy gripping his cock when he pinched her nipples. She could feel her climax building, rising as she rode him; meaning to pull him out as she felt him swell, but she needed to feel him cum, she needed to feel him fill her completely. She slammed down on him, her own climax ripping through her as she felt him swell and deliver himself into her.

Spent, she reached back, cupped his chin and kissed him; cum oozed from the junction of their union. She felt little aftershocks as his cock continued to pump into her; her pussy hungry for more, though she wasn't sure there would be room.

The steam room door opened; certain they had been discovered, Jenny retrieved her pants and hurriedly put them on. Jake pulled his up and blew a quick kiss to Jenny as he left. She sat on her towel; the crotch of her swimsuit was saturated with cum as it flowed from her. Certain that her new steam room partner would be able to smell the aroma of Jake's seed; she wrapped the towel around her waist and hurried to the changing room.

Semen still trickled from her swollen lips as she showered; she was paranoid that people would be able to see it; to tell that she had been royally fucked within the walls of the club; but nobody noticed. She dried, dressed and drove home.

She threw her swimsuit and gym clothes into the washing machine; stripping off the panties she wore, now damp with Jake's semen, she inhaled his scent before they joined the rest and the washer door closed. The house was empty; she went upstairs and showered again.

When Dave returned from work that evening, he found his wife in bed. He kissed her forehead and she turned her head to him groggily; smiling back at him. "I had the most wonderful dream." She said. "I dreamt that you made love to me on a rooftop in Vegas."

"I can't give you that now, my love." He said, "But I can give you a bed on the first floor."

"That'll do." she said, pulling him into bed; she'd deliberately forgotten the condoms as he filled her adulterous, saturated womb, but she wasn't sure why.

Jake came around less to see Sarah; she supposed it was to do with his new job, but it was mainly because he found it hard to be around her when Jenny was there. Sex between them all but dried up; they still loved each other, but with them both having their own outlets, neither of them really noticed. Sarah and Dave often vented their sexual frustration with each other, mostly before Jenny came home from work, which was often late. She'd told them that one of the girls had left, and they were picking up the slack until her replacement could be found; in truth, her journey home often took her to Jake's while his parents were out, often sneaking out of the door if one of them came home. Not that Jake's mother would have cared; she would have taken great delight in the fact that her son was fucking a married woman behind her husband's back, although she would have preferred it if the husband was made to watch.

Jenny desperately wanted to spend a night with Jake; she wanted to wake up in his arms and make love in the morning. Her chance came two weeks later; an invitation to her colleague's bachelorette party landed on her desk at work. The event would require a two night stay and they would be leaving straight from work on the Friday; she politely declined, saying that she already had plans for that weekend, but not telling them that she'd only just made them. She took the invite home and stuck it to the fridge door, hoping that Dave or Sarah would notice it. She sent Jake a text, letting him know her plans and suggesting they spend the weekend in a hotel. He texted back almost immediately; his parents were out of town that weekend, they told him they were going to see relations, which was usually a euphemism for his mother entertaining lots of big black cock while his father watched. They decided that they would spend the time in Jake's bed, rather than endure the embarrassment of knowing looks from the hotel staff as they checked in.

Sarah saw the invite first and her heart leapt; it wasn't her birthday for another two months, but she felt like her presents had come early. She showed the invite to Dave. "What about Jake?" He asked.

"He's going away with his parent's, his dad told me they we're going to see family. Jake told me yesterday that he was going with them." Plans fell in to place; shopping separately, both women bought new lingerie, though neither thought they'd be wearing it for long.

Thursday night, feeling guilty about leaving her husband for a weekend of debauchery with her young lover, Jenny's hand crept under the duvet to fondle her husband's penis. She still knew which buttons to press to get him up quickly, but she was surprised when he sprang in to life so soon. He'd been thinking about Sarah and their weekend together when his wife's hand stroked his cock. Rolling onto his back, she produced a condom from her drawer and rolled it onto him; whilst she was sure she was safe, she didn't want her husband's sperm ruining her lover's experience. She climbed on top and rode him to climax, biting her lip for fear of screaming her lover's name as she came.

In the morning she packed her overnight bag; her new negligee and her box of condoms in the bottom. She also took spare underwear and some clothes that would be appropriate for a weekend away with the girls; she knew he wouldn't check her wardrobe, but she would need to unpack something to throw in the washing machine when she returned home. "Better to be safe than sorry!" She thought, "And thinking of safe." She took her diary from the drawer and checked for the star; her period was due on Tuesday, she might not use those condoms after all. Her pussy ached as she thought of spending the weekend full of her lover's sperm.

Dave carried her bag to the car, kissed her on the lips and told her to take care; she said she would, her mind flitting to the box of condoms in her bag, then to Jake and his lovely long cock. She waved as she drove off to work, her heart hammering in her chest.

At lunch time she received a text from Jake saying that his parents had left on their trip. She felt excited; fighting off the urge to race round to Jake's house and consummate their weekend long marriage. He sent another text, "Park in the garage. Can't have anyone you know seeing your car here. I'll leave it open x" She forced her legs together; the thought of having Jake's cock in her, uninterrupted for two nights, had her pussy tingling.

She stayed at work until the girls had boarded their minibus and headed off to the airport; she felt a little bit jealous about missing out, but they would be missing out on so much more. She shut down her computer and left the office, waving to Billy on security as she headed to the carpark.

Pulling on to Jake's driveway, she saw the garage door opened, so she drove in carefully. Closing the heavy metal door behind her, she walked to the front of the house, overnight bag slung over her shoulder, her heels clicking on the flagstones. Jake opened the door and pulled her into his arms; she dropped the bag in the hallway and he carried her upstairs.

Sarah was applying makeup; Dave had decided that they should go out for a nice dinner at Sarah's favourite restaurant. He'd surprised her with a gorgeous figure hugging black dress, which, to Sarah's delight went perfectly with the lacy bra and almost-there panties which she'd bought. Her zip needed fastening, so she walked into her stepfather's bedroom; he looked up at her with a smile full of pride and a look of lust. She stood in front of him, pulled her hair over her shoulder and turned her back. It took every ounce of fibre to resist his stepdaughter's allure. In his mind he pushed the dress from her shoulders, down her arms to her waist and her gorgeous legs. Taking a deep breath, with one hand holding the bottom of the zip, his other slowly travelled towards her neck where he kissed her tenderly. She hadn't realised that she'd stopped breathing until his lips left her neck. She'd been a little apprehensive about tonight; worrying if this was what she wanted. After that kiss; she was sure. She turned and kissed his lips quickly, then left the room; the ghost of her perfume lingering.

They took a taxi in to town; the driver stealing glances at the woman in his rear view mirror, she caught him and fluttered her eyelashes, nearly causing an accident as he almost failed to see the stop light. At the restaurant, a waiter held the door open and then led them to their table. It was a family owned Italian place which they had frequented for years; the owner came from around the bar with a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Just the one beautiful lady tonight?" he said, producing a rose from his back pocket and placing it in the empty vase.

"Just the one, Gio." Dave replied, "The other one is out with the girls tonight. We thought we'd treat ourselves." Gio smiled at Sarah and poured the wine, leaving the bottle on the table. She looked around nervously as he left; wondering if Gio knew that this was more than just a father-daughter dinner, and how many others in the restaurant were thinking the same. Dave put his hand on hers. "Are you okay, honey?"

"Just, I don't know. It's weird." She said. "Being out with you like this, on our own."

"We've been to McDonalds on our own." He said.

"But that wasn't like..." She searched for the right words, "A date."

"Maybe not for you, it wasn't." He squeezed her hand. "But I had the most gorgeous girl in the room with me, and I was proud to have you on my arm, even if you were seven." She looked into his eyes and saw only pride. "And I still am."

Sarah wiped away a tear. She didn't care what anyone else thought; right now, he was her father. Their food came, in the background she thought she heard Jake's name, but it was only a takeaway pizza order.

The doorbell rang; Jenny dashed downstairs, hastily tying a robe around her. She opened the door to an astonished pizza delivery boy; he held out the pizza as she handed him the cash and her robe fell open. He dropped the money; bending quickly, her face hidden by the pizza box in her hands, the delivery boy took in the sight before him. Dried semen covered her stomach and thighs; there was more around her pubis and it dripped from her swollen lips onto the wooden floor. Mouth agape, he gathered the money and stood upright, his penis throbbing in his pants. "There's enough for a tip in there too." she said, blowing him a cheeky kiss and giggling as the door closed. The delivery boy was sure he'd seen the woman before, although she was clothed the last time; it wasn't until he'd done his rounds and seen the couple leaving the restaurant, that he remembered where.

Sarah didn't fancy going straight home, but she didn't want to go to a bar or club; not drinking much, she was fed up of being hit on by boys who'd had just enough liquid courage to ask her out, but still too much to form a coherent sentence. They decided on a movie; although, afterwards, they couldn't have said which movie it was they had sat through. As the lights went down and the titles started, she put her hand on Dave's leg. Dave put his hand on her's and they kissed throughout the main feature, hands roaming in the darkened room. They held hands as they left the theatre; Dave hailed a cab to take them home.

Once home, Sarah kicked off her shoes while Dave locked the front door; she took his hand and led him upstairs.

Standing in front of each other, Sarah unbuttoned his shirt as they kissed; he reached behind her and unzipped her dress. Taking his time, savouring the feel of her soft flesh beneath his hands, he gently pulled the dress from her shoulders and down her slender arms. She unbuttoned his trousers, kissing him as he unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor with his pants. Dave kissed and nibbled his stepdaughter's hard nipples, pushing her dress from her hips, it joined the rest of their discarded clothes, he grasped her taught buttocks, her arms tight around his neck as he lifted her onto the bed.

He lay next to her, his hand slowly caressing her body, sending shivers through her. Suckling on her erect nipple, his fingers played with the lacy edges of her panties; she tensed her stomach muscles, daring him to venture further. He denied her invitation, frustrating her, his fingers drew a lazy line up her thrumming body, cupping the breast he suckled, caressing the soft flesh of her bosom. She felt heat building in her pussy, although he hadn't yet touched her there; he felt her hand snake down to touch herself, but he knew she wasn't ready for what he had in store for her. Tongue dancing on her supersensitive nipple, fingers stroking the underside of her breast, her heat built to the point where her legs were pressed together, her knees were by his head and her hands entwined in his hair. She crushed his face into her breast as she came; his tongue drawing circles around her areolae, making her cum harder than she thought was possible without penetration.

As her orgasm faded, she relaxed her legs; it was now that his hand stole beneath the elastic of her panties, fingertips cool against her hot skin, his middle finger sliding easily between her moist lips, pressing on her engorged clit. Her breath quickened, chest heaving, Dave's index finger slipped in, further stimulating her until she gasped for breath, grabbing his wrist, begging him to stop, then pleading for him not to as she arched her back, fingers grasping, digging into the mattress, the orgasm ripping through as guttural animal noises came from her mouth.

His onslaught didn't stop there; kissing from nipple to naval, moving between her legs; Dave removed Sarah's lace panties and inhaled his stepdaughter's scent. With his mouth less than an inch from her pussy, he blew gently on her vulva, the air tickling her short hair; her thighs tensed. He kissed her lips then probed her with his tongue, tasting her sweetness; the soles of her feet hot on his back, she shifted her hips as his tongue delved deeper; she cried out as fingers replaced tongue and he sucked on her clitoris. Unrelenting, his fingers curled towards her g-spot, beckoning her towards another climax, she cried out again, feet and toes twisting, thighs clamped to his head as he flicked her clit with his tongue.

Sarah felt dizzy; unable take any more; she pushed his head away from her dripping snatch. From between her thighs, he looked up at her, catching glimpses of her flushed face as her chest rose and fell with each breath. He crawled up her, kissing as he advanced, tasting the sweat on her soft skin. As he reached out to her bedside drawer, she saw the opportunity to take back control; she rolled Dave onto his back and, feeling his penis poised at her waiting pussy, she shifted backwards onto him. Her slick vagina accepted him readily as she sat astride him, rocking her hips slowly, feeling his girth stretch her as she rode him. His hands were on her breasts, thumbs stroking her nipples; her pace increased, his hands caressed her sides and held on to her thighs as she fucked him, driving him close to the edge. Her cunt gripped his cock, she felt every ripple of his invading flesh; as he started to swell she slammed down onto him, feeling his release as he flooded her womb.

She slowed down, he was still inside her, she rode him gently, her hands on his chest, feeling him soften and disconnect as a river of cum flowed from her, coating his flaccid cock with their juices. She lay on top of him and they kissed tenderly, holding each other as she slid to his side and they drifted off to sleep.

Jenny woke, her back and limbs ached from last night's exertions, though she had surprised herself by keeping up with Jake; he had a voracious sexual appetite. Climbing stiffly out of bed, Jake still sleeping, she tiptoed to the bathroom and ran herself a bath. She'd been exhausted by Jake's constant pounding of her battered pussy last night, that she fell asleep in a stew of their own sweat and juices; now, muscles relaxing in the hot water as she reclined; the ache in her pussy subsided and she gathered her thoughts.

The excitement of spending the night with a young stud was starting to wear off, but she couldn't go home now, they would figure out that she hadn't been partying with the girls; she would have to stay with Jake until Sunday morning. She felt guilty for betraying her daughter like this; Dave too. She wasn't sure how she'd gotten herself into this mess until Jake stumbled, bleary eyed and naked into the bathroom.

His long penis swung between his legs as he lifted the toilet seat to urinate. Jenny watched as she remembered what his monster had done to her; how much pleasure it had given, and how much semen it had delivered to her wanton, cum filled cunt. Ripples spread as her fingers touched her inflamed labia. Jake looked at her and smiled, Jenny felt butterflies in her stomach as whatever doubts she had, melted away with her mind's girlish giggle. Under the water, fingers penetrated and undulated within her. Jake watched as she brought herself to climax and ripples turned to waves.

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